Work Text:
Victoria had not expected to end up like this tonight. She had gotten off work an hour or two ago, and shortly after arriving home on the bus, Trinity texted her.
———
Trinity
[9:23]
hey vic
wanna go to the bar with dennis and i tonight
You
[9:23]
I’ve literally only been to a bar once
But sure
Trinity
[9:24]
oh that’s perfect
i can pick u up in 30
You
[9:25]
Ugh I already got ready for bed
Can you pick me up in 45 instead
Trinity
[9:25]
whatever u say crash
———
Victoria had rushed to get ready, as she usually did when Trinity texted her after a shift. That was an hour and a half ago. It was now just shy of eleven, and Victoria was pressed against Trinity’s bedroom door. Trinity’s hands were roaming along her hips, her waist, seemingly frustrated at the lack of skin available— she had chosen a sleek black dress— and her mouth was on Victoria’s, hard and claiming.
Victoria ran her hands through Trinity’s dark hair, which was unbound and slicked back. She pulled away slightly, gasping for breath, “Isn’t Dennis waiting on us?”
Trinity began kissing her neck. “Why are you always so worried about Dennis?”
“Don’t say it like that when we’re doing… this.”
“Whatever, Crash,” she replied, pulling the skirt of Victoria’s dress up to her thighs.
Victoria wanted to stop her, she really did, but Trinity was just so convincing. Her hands and her mouth and her thighs—
Trinity’s hands wandered in between Victoria’s thighs, touching her through her lace underwear. A shaky little whine escaped her lips, earning a teasing laugh from the other woman.
Victoria felt as Trinity hooked her index finger on her panties, pulling them to the side.
“Trin…” she whispered, trembling under her touch. She could feel how wet she already was— especially as Trinity dragged two fingers along her core and made small circles around her clit.
“We can be quick,” Trinity crooned, “Right, Vic?”
The smile on her face as she looked up at Victoria was downright wolfish.
“Fuck, yeah, I guess,” she breathed, as unable to deny her as she had always been.
Victoria had always found basically everything that Trinity did attractive, irresistible. At this point, though, she figured that she had basically seen everything in the few months she and Trinity had been having sex. Not that that made any of it even marginally less hot, but she believed that she had already been left speechless as many times as it was even possible. But then Trinity removed her lips from Victoria’s neck, where she had left a dark bruise, gave her a short, chaste kiss, and dropped to her knees. She looked up at her silently, moving to kiss her legs, raising herself up until she met the apex of Victoria’s thighs.
Trinity did not hesitate. She licked a long stripe along Victoria’s core, flicking her tongue on her clit, smiling into her ministrations.
“Oh my god, Trinity, shit—” she moaned, only to be cut off by loud banging on the other side of the door she was pressed against.
“Uh, guys? Are we going or not?” called Dennis, sporting his usual innocently unsure tone.
“Fuck,” Trinity whispered, exasperated, dropping back to the floor and leaning her head against one of Victoria’s legs, “Yeah, Dennis, give us a sec!”
He shouted again through the door. “What’s taking you guys so long?”
“Oh just groping, fondling, kissing, licking, you know the drill,” Trinity chimed, giving Victoria a lazy grin.
“You’re gross, Trin,” he called back, audibly making his way away from the door.
Victoria waited until he was definitely out of earshot before covering her face with her hands and sliding down the back of the door to meet Trinity on the floor.
“Do we have to go…” she whined, repositioning Trinity so that she could climb on top of her.
“Yeah, Vic, we have to go,” she sighed, equally as melodramatic as Victoria was.
Victoria, unable to help herself, leaned down to pin Trinity against the floor, kissing her fiercely, whining her complaints about their interruption into her mouth. Trinity hummed as they kissed, placating her, holding her face and running her thumbs along her cheekbones. Lightly, the woman beneath her pushed her up so she was upright.
“Dennis is going to kill me if we don’t get out there, Vic,” she sighed.
“Ugh, fine,” Victoria relented, lifting herself off of Trinity’s lap and standing, begrudgingly fixing her underwear and pulling her dress back down. Trinity followed suit and opened the door to the hallway, making her way into her and Dennis’s living room.
Victoria followed, still dazed, silently praying that Trinity would’ve told her if her makeup had been ruined.
“Finally,” Dennis huffed, “Are you guys ready now?”
“Yeah, yeah, we’re ready, Huckleberry.”
***
Victoria had only ever seen the inside of a bar once, and it was nothing like whatever she had just stepped into. The one she had celebrated her twenty-first birthday in was sort of crappy, dimly lit and mostly populated by college-aged or slightly older groups, in booths or at the bar. But it had some charm, and it had been fun. Though, as she reminisced, she realized that most of her fun was related to her basking in the presence of the then-elusive Trinity Santos. Regardless, that bar might as well have been a shack made of toothpicks when compared to the one she now stood in. For one, it was huge, and the crowd within was even bigger. Everyone had glittery makeup and skimpy clothing. They danced in ways Victoria had never seen before. Everyone looked like they had been wasted from the moment they arrived.
Trinity, noticing the look on Victoria’s face, grabbed her by her waist and led her further inside. She brought her, of course, to the bar, and promptly ordered two rounds of shots for the three of them. Over the blaring music, Victoria couldn’t hear what, exactly, she was supposed to be taking a shot of.
Trinity turned to her after she finished with the bartender. “These are just to start us off. After that, Dennis and I always have a competition for who can get the most drinks bought for them.” She was practically screaming to be heard over the pop song playing.
Victoria did not like the sound of it. Not at all, actually. She could feel herself beginning to overthink. How many random girls would buy Trinity drinks? Was Trinity always doing this when Victoria wasn’t over? Was she taking some of them back to her apartment, just like Trinity did to her? Was she not special? She tried to calm herself, but found it difficult to do so while sober. On that thought, as if the bartender could read her mind, six shots were slid across the surface of the bar in their direction. With no small amount of dread, Victoria noted that they were definitely tequila.
“You ready, Crash?”
“I guess…” she yelled back at her, trying to shove her insecurity deep, deep down. Hoping the alcohol would do the rest for her.
She was relieved to see limes, at least, but still in no way excited to down two shots of tequila in a row. She hadn’t eaten in hours, and the last time she had, it was a granola bar in the bathroom of PTMC.
“Now or never,” Trinity yelled, downing her shots back to back like it was the easiest thing in the world. She barely even made a face. And she didn’t need a lime.
Figuring she would never feel ready, Victoria just went for it, taking the first shot and immediately grabbing a lime to prevent herself from spitting it back out. She barely survived it, but didn’t want to give Trinity another excuse to tease her, so she cringed and grabbed the next and downed it like there was a gun to her head. Once again, she reached for a lime, and when she was done with it, she gave Trinity a very pointed look while the post-shot disgust washed over her. Trinity just laughed and returned her hand to Victoria’s waist.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom before the alcohol hits me,” Victoria shouted, scanning the building to determine where said bathroom even was. She found it, gave Trinity a kiss on the cheek, and vanished into the crowd.
***
In the bathroom, Victoria paced and considered splashing her face with water, but realized it would ruin her makeup. She leaned against the sink, trying and failing not to hyperventilate. This was just too much for her. A competition for who could get the most drinks bought for them? Was Trinity fucking serious?
She couldn’t tell if she was angry, blindingly angry, because what the hell was Trinity's problem? They’d been having sex basically once a week, minimum, for months. Didn’t that make them exclusive? If that didn’t make them exclusive, what about the constant flirting? The cuddling? The softness she only saw Trinity possess with her?
But then, at the same time, she felt stupid for so many reasons she could barely list them. Mostly, though, she felt stupid because she didn’t even feel like she had the right to be angry. Who was she? To Trinity, to her friends, to her coworkers, to anyone for that matter? Was there anyone that she really mattered to? In Trinity’s case, at least, she figured she was lucky to be a casual hookup. In all honesty, Trinity could probably get anyone she wanted at any time, so what could possibly make Victoria special? Why was it her right to be angry and jealous when Trinity lived her life?
Victoria wished she didn’t care as much as she did. She wished, desperately, that she wasn’t so much, all the time. But she just was. She had tried, really, really tried to change it.
When she was younger, once, she went up to the coolest girl in her fourth-grade class, the girl with the dirt on her knees and hair in a pretty blonde ponytail. She asked what the girl’s favorite color was, and she replied that it was purple. Lavender, specifically. By the next week, Victoria had painted her bedroom walls lavender and gotten a whole new purple wardrobe. The girl still never spoke to her again, except once, to ask for a pencil.
Victoria had spent her entire life, really, trying to mold herself into someone special. She had succeeded, she supposed, academically. But being the youngest— the kid genius— in every room she walked into only actually succeeded in ostracizing her more. To those her age, she was annoying, the girl everyone’s parents told them to be more like. The example. No one liked an example. To those older than her, the ones she was surrounded by, the ones whose approval she yearned for, she was just some blushing twenty-one-year-old product of nepotism.
Victoria stared at herself in the dirty mirror. She traced all of the fingerprints that marred the reflective surface, making up life stories for whoever may have been there before her. It was a coping mechanism she had learned in the few sessions of therapy her dad had enabled her to attend before her mom found out about it. When she did, her mother had quickly put an end to it. Victoria pictured a beautiful dark-haired girl. She had a good life, joined a sorority in college and met a nice girl there. She pictured this dark-haired girl and her now girlfriend taking a vacation with one another to Pittsburgh. She realized, even in her own imagination, the utter ridiculousness of someone’s vacation destination being Pittsburgh, but tried to ignore it for the immersion. They stayed in a nicer hotel, since the dark-haired girl’s parents both had high-paying jobs. She pictured them as anything but doctors. They decided to go out, and they picked the very bar in which Victoria was standing. Their night went well, and they ended up in the bathroom. One thing led to another, and the dark-haired girl had to fix her makeup in the bathroom mirror. While reapplying her mascara, she braced a hand against the mirror— leaning in close to observe her reflection— and left a little halo of fingerprints.
Victoria snapped herself out of her imagination. The only dark-haired girl in the mirror was herself, and she wasn’t nearly as pretty as the girl from her stupid attempt at a coping mechanism. She wasn’t really pretty at all, was she?
She tore her gaze away from the mirror. She didn’t really want to see herself, especially not in her current state. It was when she did this, though, that she noticed her vision lagging. Her mind, too. Fuck, she was such a lightweight. Fuck Trinity and her stupid tequila. Fuck Trinity for inviting her. Fuck her for the fact that Victoria probably wasn’t constantly on her mind the way that Trinity was constantly on hers.
It had been fifteen minutes. She knew that she had to leave the bathroom, so she once again met her own eyes in the mirror and did her best impression of a girl who had not just freaked out over her coworker-slash-hookup flirting with other girls for drinks.
***
She looked, and looked, and looked, and could not find Trinity. After about 10 minutes of wandering around, shoving and shouldering through the crowd, she gave up and leaned against the wall by the bar.
She was about to reach into her bag to find her phone, but a figure appeared in front of her before she could. Sighing a breath of relief, she looked up from her purse to chew Trinity out for disappearing. But it wasn’t Trinity.
There was a tall woman standing in front of her. She was beautiful, with sharp blue eyes and swoopy brown hair. “Hi, gorgeous.”
“Oh, me?” Her eyes shot open, reeling both from the fact that this was definitely not Trinity and that she was definitely being hit on by a very attractive butch. God, she had very nice biceps. “Um, thanks… or, hi, I guess.”
“Can I buy you a drink?” She asked the question with completely unwavering confidence and a permanent smirk.
“Um,” she began, about to reject her offer, about to state that she was taken, when she realized what Trinity was probably doing right then. Was Trinity turning girls down? Was she even fucking taken, for that matter? “Actually, yeah, that would be great. Thanks.”
She allowed herself to be led to a different part of the bar, where the woman had the bartender make them two tequila sunrises. Perfect, she immediately thought, more fucking tequila.
As they sipped their drinks— though Victoria realized she was basically chugging it— the woman tried to make conversation with her. Victoria learned that her name was Sasha.
She wanted to care. She wanted to live her life outside of Trinity, to throw it in her face that look, I can get drinks bought for me too, but it just didn’t work. She just didn’t care. Not if it wasn’t her.
Sasha got a little closer to her and placed her hand on Victoria’s hip, and it just fell apart. This act that she was putting on. The batting of her eyelashes, the mhmm-s, and the twirling of a loose strand of hair. She just did not care, could not care.
“I’m really sorry, I have to go. It was, um, nice talking to you. I’m sorry,” she stammered, and turned on her heel into the crowd. She just needed to find Trinity.
She returned to searching the crowd, but after barely a minute, someone grabbed her arm. She turned, once again expecting Trinity, once again being disappointed that it was not. It was Dennis this time, though, which was an improvement from a stranger.
“Hey, Dr. Javadi,” he started, fidgeting with the bottle of beer he had clearly been nursing for far too long.
“Please, if I can call you Dennis you have to stop calling me Dr. Javadi. It’s Victoria. Or Vic,” she stated matter-of-factly. At any other time, she might have felt warmth saying Vic. The nickname Trinity gave her. She definitely did not feel that warmth.
“Yeah,” he winced, “I’m sorry, I’ll remember next time.” He did have a little bit of color in his cheeks, and Victoria wondered if she had judged him incorrectly. Maybe he actually could throw back a beer or two. Maybe he had already, by this point. “Before you ask, I can’t find Trin either.”
“...Right. I think I’m going to go to the bathroom.”
“Didn’t you just come from the bathroom?” He looked so genuinely confused as he said it that she visibly cringed at herself.
“Um… yeah. Yeah, I did.” She felt nauseous. She couldn’t tell if it was from the alcohol, which was really starting to affect her now, or from how horrifically she was embarrassing herself.
“Listen, Jav— I mean Vic, I know your night probably isn’t really going how you wanted it to… but I want you to have fun, you know?”
She didn’t really know what to say to that. He was right, even though she hated that he was. Her night was not, by any means or measure, going how she wanted it to.
“Why don’t you come dance with me and this random guy I met,” Dennis grinned, motioning behind him with a thumb.
She wanted to say no, she wanted to run out of the building and Uber home, if she was honest, but she also did still want to have at least a little bit of fun. She was already drunk, anyway.
“Yeah, okay. Okay, let’s do it.”
He led her to the back corner of the dancefloor, which was next to a small lounge where he motioned for a slightly older gruff-looking guy to come towards them. She giggled to herself. His type was so predictable.
The next hour or so— she wasn’t actually sure how long it was— was a blur of more alcohol, more people, and more dancing than she had ever done in her life. This guy, whoever he was— she had never learned his name and probably never would— was actually pretty cool. Her initial judgement of him was accurate, he was pretty gruff, but in a charming sort of way. He reminded her of Abbot.
At one point, right after she had just finished her third or maybe fourth drink of the night— again, she couldn’t quite remember— she somehow ended up in a circle full of people cheering as Dennis and his mysterious man of the night made out. She didn’t really understand what was going on, but she cheered loud as ever all the same.
Later, Dennis dragged her outside with him so he could find someone to bum a cigarette off of. They did, and then spent thirty minutes at the absolute minimum listening to him rattle on about his messy breakup with his “bitch ex-girlfriend.” Thankfully they escaped the tragically one-sided conversation when Victoria was drunk enough to attempt to take a puff of Dennis’s cigarette. She coughed so hard she had to excuse herself to dry heave in an alley while Dennis uselessly held her hair back. When she regained her composure enough to stand, albeit on shaky legs, they went back and forth about how hard they had both been trying not to laugh the entire conversation, and ended up laughing so hard that Victoria once again lost her footing.
They finally made their way back into the bar, where Victoria excused herself to attempt, once again, to find Trinity.
She had been having so much fun that she had managed to momentarily forget about the competition. But then she found her.
On the other side of the bar from Victoria, sipping on what looked like a rum and coke, was Trinity. Across from some infuriatingly gorgeous blonde girl. A blonde girl that reminded her of dirt on knees and silky ponytails. Everything she wanted to be and everything she was not.
She also, currently, wanted to be absolutely anywhere but standing in this stupid bar or club or whatever the fuck it was watching Trinity flirt with this prettier-than-her girl. All of the insecurity and doubt and anger slammed back into her like a freight train. Not wanting to confront what was happening in front of her, she turned and stormed off.
Of course, given her luck, she stormed directly into someone.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you,” she began, bringing a hand up to her mouth in surprise.
“Hey, it’s all good,” the taller black-haired woman replied. “My name is Emily,” she said, then paused, waiting for Victoria to say hers.
“Hi Emily, I’m Victoria,” she started, then added, “But you can call me Vic.”
Victoria found Emily endearing, not like she found Trinity endearing, but she was currently refusing to let that matter to her. They spoke for a while, and Victoria found that the conversation flowed out of her more naturally than it had all night.
They were just talking about what Victoria did for work when she felt a hand slide around her waist.
“Hey, Crash, Whatcha doin’?”
“She was in the middle of telling me about where she works. A hospital, right, Vic?” Emily was giving Trinity a look that she could not decipher. Trinity was giving her one right back. Were they having a fucking pissing contest over her right now? She was so utterly too drunk for this. Against her own logic, she began to blush.
“Um, yeah, I work nearby, at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, actually. I just became a resident,” she stuttered, starting to feel a bit dizzy.
“Oh, really? Being a doctor must be so hard…” Trinity crooned, leaning her head on Victoria’s shoulder and looking up at her.
“I’m sorry, Emily, will you excuse us,” Victoria breathed, and grabbed Trinity’s arm, dragging her away. She brought her all the way outside, pulled her into the semi-secluded alley, and stopped. Trinity looked so fucking smug, but unfortunately for Victoria, so fucking hot, too.
Victoria seized Trinity’s face and yanked it towards her, kissing her with all of the force of her frustration that night. The kiss deepened, and it just kept deepening, and suddenly she was— for the second time that night— pressed against a wall. And then Trinity’s knee was pressing into her, in between her thighs, and it felt so good, and she couldn’t tell where Trinity ended and she began. It was all so exhilarating, so thrilling, and she was grinding on Trinity’s knee and—
And she was still so fucking mad. She pushed Trinity off of her. “So does this mean nothing to you?”
“Wait, what? What the hell are you talking about, Crash?” Trinity looked genuinely confused, and that only pissed her off more.
“Oh, and now it’s fucking Crash again, not Vic, I’m only Vic when you’re fucking me, right?” She was slurring her words. “You brought me here just so you could ignore me all night?”
“I’ve been trying to find you all night,” Trinity breathed, her face unreadable and her posture still so irritatingly calm.
“Yeah, well, you didn’t. And the only time I actually did see you, you were flirting with some girl.” She could feel herself starting to cry, and she was torn between wanting to do it just to make her feel bad, and desperately trying to keep the tears from falling. She was so hopelessly drunk. “Is this what you do every time? Get other girls to buy drinks for you all fucking night? Do you take them home? Do you fuck them too?” She was definitely crying now, whether she wanted to or not. The tears wouldn’t stop falling, and the words wouldn’t stop coming out, and now every word was coming out in between hiccups and gasps for air and sobs. “I thought that I was special to you, or something, but maybe I’m not, and that’s fine, I’m fine, I just want you to fucking tell me! I don’t want to be this girl that you can fuck whenever you get sick of the ones you meet at the bar!”
“Vic, please, that’s not true,” Trinity started, putting her arms on Victoria’s shoulders, an attempt to ground her.
She took the smallest of breaths in, tried to steady her shoulders from how violently they were shaking. “I just want to be special,” she whispered. It came out so small. The second the words left her mouth another sob tore through her, and Trinity was wrapped around her, and she wanted to hug back but her arms were so heavy that she just couldn’t.
“I’m sorry, Vic,” she pleaded, “I don’t… I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I want you to say that you love me,” she cried, and she was so embarrassed, so ashamed to be doing this, saying this, being herself. She hated being herself.
Before she could embarrass herself any further, with words, at least, she felt all of the nausea and dizziness snake up her spine all at once and had to literally shove Trinity off of her. She dropped to her knees and felt the skin there break against the pavement as she began to vomit. Trinity quickly dropped behind her and grabbed her hair, pulling it behind her head and using her other hand to grab Victoria’s. She squeezed her hand tightly.
Trinity said nothing as Victoria threw her guts up onto the concrete. When she finally finished, Trinity let her continue to cry into her chest. They stayed like that for what felt like a very long time to Victoria.
Trinity kissed her exposed shoulder and lifted her to her feet. “I think that we need to find Dennis. And go home.” Trinity wiped Victoria’s chin with her thumb and rubbed it off on her jeans.
Victoria nodded pitifully and allowed herself to be held by Trinity while she texted Dennis to meet them outside.
***
When they got back to the apartment, Victoria did not know how to feel. Physically, she didn’t feel sick anymore at least. She had sobered up a bit, she wasn’t tripping over her own legs, but the alcohol-induced haze was still present.
She had decided something on the way home. She was not going to be Victoria Javadi anymore. She was going to be Vic. She was going to be whatever Trinity needed her to be, nothing more, and nothing less. She would even be Crash, if it’s what Trinity needed. She would do exactly what Trinity wanted and it would make her special. She would be special. She would, for once in her life, do everything right. She went straight to Trinity’s bathroom.
She used the extra makeup wipes she kept in Trinity’s cabinet to wipe the mascara that had tracked down her cheeks. She grabbed her toothbrush from the cup. It was lavender, and she hated it. She would buy a new one soon. As she brushed her teeth, she stared back at herself. She didn’t recognize the person she saw. But that was good. She didn’t want to be Victoria Javadi anymore. She would be someone new. Someone special.
Victoria finished brushing her teeth and exited the bathroom to find Trinity sitting on her bed, scrolling on her phone. She headed straight for the bed, and Trinity looked up as she approached.
“Vic, I’m really—” Trinity began, but was cut off by Victoria putting her finger to her lips and shushing her.
“It’s okay, Trin, I don’t care. I’m over it,” Victoria breathed, moving onto Trinity’s lap, playing with a strand of her hair. “I just want to finish what we started earlier.”
Victoria leaned forward and kissed her roughly, biting Trinity’s bottom lip and tugging at her hair, earning a soft moan into her mouth. She pushed Trinity down onto her back, leaning over her, holding her there.
“Vic,” Trinity managed in between kisses, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, Trin, I’m fine,” she panted back, “Just— want you.”
“What do you want, Vic?”
“Anything, Trinity, anything you’ll give me,” Victoria blurted, “Please, Trin, I’ll be a good girl—”
Trinity grabbed her face, making her pause. Her face was, as usual, unreadable. “You’ll be a good girl?”
“Yes,” she insisted, “Yes.” As the words left her mouth, Trinity had flipped her. Now straddling Victoria, she kissed her fiercely, lifting her back with a hand to unzip her dress. It all happened so quickly from there, Victoria had shuffled awkwardly out of her dress and Trinity had unclipped her bra, and then she was naked and Trinity was between her legs.
She moaned, a little too loud.
“Shhhh,” Trinity said, into her, and it felt incredible.
“Yes, fuck, Trin, you’re so good, so good,” she whined, delirious with the pleasure of it, the alcohol, this manic state she was in. It was perfect, it was everything, she was doing everything right. She felt better than she had ever felt and she was so completely certain she would never stop feeling that way. This was what she wanted, what she needed, and she would do whatever Trinity needed to do for the rest of her entire life if it meant getting to keep feeling this way.
Trinity was very clearly experienced in giving oral sex. Victoria had known this from the beginning, but it was painfully obvious right now. The old Victoria Javadi would have made herself sick thinking about the other times Trinity had had sex with other girls, the experiences that had led her to her expertise, but that didn’t matter to her now. She was new, she was reborn. All for Trinity.
Trinity swirled her tongue in all the right places, flattening it and curling it and sucking Victoria’s clit into her mouth. The pleasure was so overwhelming that she couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything except whimper and whine and moan syllables that vaguely resembled Trinity’s name. It kept getting better and better, building to a breaking point, and a loud whine began building in her throat as she realized she was about to cum— and then Trinity stopped.
“No, please, don’t stop, please, Trin,” she pouted, tears filling her eyes.
“I know something’s wrong,” Trinity started, eyes glassy but stern, “Do you want to be good?”
“Yes, I’ll do whatever you want,” she responded immediately. Confidently.
“How do you feel, then? About me? About tonight?” she asked, nipping at Victoria’s inner thigh. Using her hand to tease Victoria’s clit.
Victoria paused. Where was she going with this? “I already told you, I don’t care— Fuck!” she yelped; Trinity had pushed a finger inside of her, curling it where she knew it would drive Victoria insane.
“I think you do care,” she deadpanned, “And I want you to tell me about it.”
Her eyes widened. Trinity wasn’t supposed to be able to see through her like this. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. And this, whatever this was, was fucking insane. Why did she want to have this conversation now?
“I— I don’t, I mean— Now? Like… this?” Victoria questioned, her words peppered between little gasps and whines.
“If you want to stop, I’ll stop.”
She turned it over in her mind for a moment. Did she want to stop? Trinity’s finger was still inside of her. She could feel herself twitching. She didn’t want to have this conversation at all, really, but…
“Um… I don’t… I don’t want you to stop.” There were still tears in the corners of her eyes. She was so embarrassed, but that embarrassment somehow felt so fucking good. A tear fell.
Trinity inserted another finger and curled them, hard. “Fuck, holy shit, Trin,” Victoria yelped, trailing off in a pathetic whine. Her hands instinctually flew into Trinity’s hair, clinging to her scalp.
“I’m going to make you cum,” she mused, steady, guiding, “But only if you talk to me first.”
“Please, Trinity, I swear, it doesn’t matter—”
“The truth,” Trinity interrupted, curling her fingers inside Victoria particularly rudely. Maybe it should’ve hurt. Her words, her tone… her fingers. It didn’t. She didn’t know how to explain it other than that it was so far the opposite, so good, so right, that it almost did hurt. She moaned loudly, unapologetically. That almost-hurt, that specific kind of pain she was certain only she understood— it was the part she craved the most. The part she would beg on her knees for. The part she had begged on her knees for.
This was not how it was supposed to go. She felt all of the lies, the false confidence, the false persona she had built herself up on beginning to crumble. She felt as the wild, crazed mania began to give way. In its wake, she knew it would leave a gaping pit. And in that pit, she knew, was that thing in her chest, that disgusting thing. That endless black hole that made her take and take and take and still screamed, begged for more. More attention, more praise, more love. It was never enough. She was never enough. She was barely anything at all.
She felt almost physically as she fell and fell, into the shame, the emptiness, the guilt. The paralyzing fear. The bottomless low that always lurked just behind her euphoric, insatiable highs.
Her tears began to streak down her face. Trinity lifted herself from her position in between Victoria’s legs, keeping her fingers inside of her and moving upwards to Victoria’s face. Trinity’s eyes betrayed so much emotion that Victoria couldn’t make out a single one. Trinity licked one of her tears as it tracked down her cheek.
“Um,” Victoria began, and her voice broke so violently as she said it, so pathetically. “I was really upset.” She paused to sniff and hold in a sob. Her chest shook fiercely. “Because, um, I wanted to be the only girl,” she whimpered, so small and so full of shame.
“The only girl that I fuck?”
She nodded pitifully. She couldn’t keep herself quiet, and the noises of her sobs blended into those of her moans. She cried and cried, and she had never felt so horribly, disgustingly empty in her life. But she had never felt so full either. So broken, so whole.
“I haven’t had sex with anyone else since I realized that I liked you, Victoria,” Trinity said, so sure and gentle, kissing her collarbones and her neck. As Victoria continued to cry, Trinity left marks all across her chest. There was a particularly dark one on the swell of Victoria’s breast. Trinity was fucking her so cruelly, all while she spoke so gently.
“Like me, like— fuck— for sex, or like…” she whimpered, barely audible. She couldn’t find the words to ask for what she wanted to know. She could, maybe, if she really tried. But she was tired, and everything was hazy, and it was just too much.
“Like you, like, for you,” Trinity clarified. She took one of Victoria’s breasts in her mouth, swirling her tongue around her nipple. Nipping lightly there. She removed her mouth with an obscene noise and looked up at her, bringing her free hand to Victoria’s cheek. She wiped the tears from her cheek and spoke with such gentle reverence that Victoria felt herself begin to shatter. “You think, for some stupid fucking reason,” she said quietly, shaking her head and laughing a bit, “That you’re not special. To me, I guess, or maybe in general. But you are, Vic.”
Victoria held her breath. Tried to hold in some of the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “Say it,” she whispered.
“You are special, Victoria Javadi.”
Something inside of her broke. It broke so thoroughly that she was certain it had somehow been audible, some sort of thunderclap or lightning strike. It was all that she had ever wanted, and now that she had heard it, some permanent shield that protected the scared girl within her finally fell. She had been bare in front of Trinity many times, but never in her entire life had she felt as naked as she did then. Trinity pressing her body against her, holding her, worshipping her.
She wept into Trinity, and she wanted so badly for it to be enough. For once, to be content, to not need more and more until she had everything. She was special, finally. It should have been enough.
But it was not. Because as she sobbed and moaned, Trinity’s fingers still emphatically inside of her, all she could think was I love you.
The pleasure and the pain, the gentleness and the violence of it, the act of love between them disguised as lust for so long. It was blinding, and yet, through it all, Victoria chanted it in her head like a mantra. I love you, I love you, I love you.
In that void, her and Trinity its only inhabitants, she finally fell apart. As she came, Trinity whispered in her ear, praises she could barely make out. Good girl, mostly. It rang in her head, echoed in the places beyond her current perception, the dark recesses of her mind that held her shame, her burdens.
It was not a wave washing over her. No, it was not that at all. It was as if she had been shattered into a million unrecoverable pieces all at once. It was violent, vicious. Cruel. It was perfect. It was the best thing she had felt in her entire life. She felt like an addict, only an addict who had finally achieved a high better than the first.
It ripped her soul from her body, and only very slowly in the aftermath did her soul return to her. And with it, the heaviness of shame. Everything that had formed her soul into the jagged, writhing thing it was. Her tears did not stop. Trinity did not stop holding her.
Victoria didn’t know how long they stayed that way. It could’ve been a hundred seconds or a hundred years.
Her sobs began to quiet, and she was silent for a time. But her mind was loud, ear-splittingly loud. It begged for more. “I’m not done. If you aren’t.”
Trinity looked at her wordlessly. She kissed her, but it was chaste, and then she stood up. There was a singular moment of anguish. The loss of her, even if only physically. But as it washed over her, Trinity had already returned. She put something— a box, maybe— on the floor by the bed and began to strip. It only occurred to Victoria then, really, that she had been the only one naked the entire time.
Victoria watched and did not move. Trinity had not told her to move. She still did not move as Trinity, now bare, stepped into a black harness. She knew where it was going now, of course she did, but she would be patient. Victoria’s eyes were glassy as she watched Trinity prepare herself for her. She would do whatever Trinity wanted.
Trinity rejoined her on the bed, lifting her gently. She placed her hands on Victoria’s neck and kissed her languidly. Eventually, she pulled away, just slightly. She fell backwards onto the bed, bringing Victoria with her by her neck. Victoria was leaning over her now, staring at her. The strap-on she now wore. She understood where Trinity wanted her without words.
She climbed fully onto Trinity’s lap, sitting on the long, black silicone so that it was flattened against Trinity’s stomach. She began to grind on it slowly, exhaling little moans under her breath as they kissed. Victoria would have gone on like that forever, but her wetness from being fingered by Trinity was making her slide across the cold silicone too easily, and she was far too horny to take it slow. She lifted herself, not breaking the kiss, and Trinity’s hand immediately went to the strap-on to help position it for Victoria.
A long, breathy whine punched itself out of her chest as she sank down onto it. She was so wet that she bottomed out immediately, their hips meeting. She shivered at the sensation.
Victoria had to stay completely still for a few moments. The fullness was still very new, and when she tried to grind down into Trinity, she yelped at first. It was so much, too much, but that was what she loved most. She began to move slowly. It felt so good her vision went momentarily white.
She started to pick up speed, and then Trinity was grinding up into her, and she knew she was not going to last long. Her head fell onto Trinity’s shoulder as she moaned loudly. She began to shake.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god, Trinity,” she whined, biting at Trinity’s shoulder in a useless attempt to stay quiet. Like that even mattered now, after how loud she’d been when Trinity fingered her.
“Does that feel good, Vic?” she cooed, fisting a handful of Victoria’s hair.
Victoria did not feel able to produce words anymore, so she nodded vigorously instead. That was, apparently, not the right decision. Trinity yanked her hair, pulling Victoria’s head up off of her shoulder so that she was face to face with her.
“Words, baby,” Trinity coaxed, still so kind in her words, still so cruel in her touch.
“Yeah, yeah, it feels really— Oh, fuck— good,” she faltered, barely able to form a coherent sentence. “It’s— you’re so big, Trinity,” she added, despite the haze clouding her mind.
Trinity’s breath hitched as she looked at Victoria, as the words left her mouth. Victoria knew she looked like a fucking mess, but she also knew Trinity loved it when she did. Her eyes were still red and puffy from her earlier sobs, and her face was screwed up in a way that would almost suggest pain if the constant noises ripping their way from her throat didn’t clearly indicate otherwise. Trinity pushed Victoria’s face into hers, kissing her with ferocity. It was open-mouthed and dirty and desperate.
Victoria tried to last longer, but she had been so pent up, and now that everything had been laid out bare— now that she had been laid out bare— she couldn’t hold in the sob that tore itself from her as she came. Her entire body spasmed, her orgasm hitting her like a freight train. Then Trinity was moaning too, though she couldn’t entirely tell why as she continued to whine and shake on top of her. It wasn’t quite as mind-numbing as the first, but it still brought new tears to her eyes.
She only realized as she began to recover from her orgasm that she had been biting Trinity’s shoulder hard enough to leave a ring of bruises. So that’s why she was moaning. Fuck, she thought to herself, Trinity really has a thing for biting. Despite herself, she began to laugh shakily.
“What’s so funny?” Trinity asked, absently playing with Victoria’s hair.
“Your glaring biting kink,” Victoria mocked, her lips pressed together to hold in more laughter.
“Whatever, fuck you, Vic,” she scowled. Even as she grumbled, though, she readjusted herself to help Victoria lift herself off of the strap-on.
A whimper escaped her at the loss, despite her attempt to contain it. Trinity wrapped her arms around her and laid her on her back, trailing kisses from her neck to her breasts. She continued like that, for a little bit, but at some point she stopped and looked up at Victoria. There was a question in her eyes.
“Vic, can you do something for me?”
She thought that she was exhausted and burnt out and done. But something about the spark in Trinity’s eyes as she said it breathed life back into her. She was unable to say no to her, and she wouldn’t ever want to anyway.
“Anything.”
“Can you wear it this time?” Trinity asked, uncharacteristically sheepish.
Victoria felt all of the air leave her lungs, and she knew that her eyes had gone cartoonishly wide. She wanted to, god, she fucking wanted to, but she was very aware that she had no idea what the fuck she was doing. “Yes, yeah, please,” she managed to get out.
Trinity smiled wolfishly. She worried that maybe Trinity’s expectations for her ability to use a strap-on were wildly too high. “Um… I don’t really… know how to do it,” Victoria admitted, covering her face with her hands. This was so embarrassing. Tonight had been a series of embarrassments.
“It’s not exactly difficult when someone’s riding you, I promise, Crash,” Trinity teased in response, lifting her hips to slide the harness off of herself.
Victoria pouted at the nickname. She was only half joking. It still stung, just a little bit. She didn’t dislike the nickname, she never really had, but it did bring her mind back to the events in the alleyway earlier that night. And that train of thought led her to question what ungodly hour of the night it must have been by that point. She was getting off track. She had to figure out how to put on the stupid harness.
After a severely embarrassing struggle, she had managed to tighten it in the right places so that it was secure.
“Should we, like, clean it first?”
“I don’t mind. Do you?” Trinity responded slowly.
The implication of it made her head spin. Trinity using Victoria’s own wetness as lubricant. She felt her heart rate spike.
“Are you gonna lay back down?” she asked, bemused. “So I can… you know?”
Victoria bristled a bit, but did as she was told, laying on her back slightly propped up. She put her legs under the blanket. Trinity had her ceiling fan on high at all times, and Victoria’s nakedness was beginning to make that a bit unbearable.
Once she was settled, she looked to Trinity. She was sitting next to her on the bed, on her knees. She looked mesmerized.
“Jesus, Trin, you look like you’re about to start drooling,” she mocked, a bit too proud of herself for having finally been the one teasing instead of the one teased. It lacked bite, though, and came out breathy.
Trinity did not respond. She just crawled towards her, straddling Victoria the same way she had straddled Trinity earlier.
It felt like the air had been punched out of her lungs. The way Trinity was looking at her, like she worshipped her. She didn’t feel like she deserved it. She wasn’t sure if she even wanted it if it wasn’t love. But then again, she didn’t know what that look could be if it wasn’t love.
Her mind was wiped clean of her doubts when Trinity kissed her. It was soft and slow and careful.
“Please,” she whined, elongating the vowels in a way that would have read as sarcasm coming from anyone else.
“You’re such a baby,” Trinity huffed, finally lifting herself onto the strap-on.
As she sank down, a strained breath escaped Trinity’s lips, and Victoria felt her heart skip multiple beats. Her hands went to Trinity’s face, and she yanked her down into another kiss. Trinity moaned into the kiss, and Victoria felt as she began to grind frantically on top of her. The noises she made into her mouth were intoxicating. Her mind became hazy, guided only by instinct and lust as she began to thrust her hips upwards into Trinity. When she did this, Trinity choked out a loud moan, and Victoria’s thrusts only became more frenzied.
It wasn’t enough, still. Never enough for her. She needed to do more, she needed to fuck Trinity. To make her feel good and to make her pay for Victoria’s suffering and to beg Trinity to love her. To show Trinity how much she loved her.
Something came over her, she didn’t know what and she didn’t let herself care, and she grabbed Trinity’s waist, flipping them over. Trinity’s back hit the bed, and she pulled away from the kiss to see Trinity’s eyes fly open. Victoria readjusted, bracing her hands on either side of Trinity’s head, and Trinity’s hands went around Victoria’s neck, pulling her back down into a kiss.
She thrusted forward slowly and Trinity whimpered quietly. She wanted to fuck Trinity so badly, but this was all very new. She was worried that her eagerness wasn’t welcome. She continued to restrain herself, until Trinity yanked her towards her by her neck, staring defiantly up at her through her eyelashes.
“Victoria. Fuck me.”
The words left Trinity’s mouth, and there was a moment of stillness. It was almost as if Victoria needed a moment to be sure that it was all real, that Trinity had said it, that Trinity was there at all, beneath her. She could feel the smoothness of Trinity’s skin, of her stomach and breasts that were now pressed against Victoria’s, she could see the unflinching sureness in her eyes. She felt Trinity’s hot breath on her face, and her eyes drifted downwards to her kiss-swollen lips.
She surged down, kissing Trinity hard, thrusting into her with the movement. She didn’t— couldn’t— control herself, she felt starved, feral, and her hips were harsh and unforgiving in their thrusts into Trinity.
Her hands roamed across Trinity’s naked body, desperate to hold onto her, to ground herself. They settled on Trinity’s waist, and Victoria pushed her up off the bed slightly so she could wrap her arms fully around her.
Trinity was choking out beautiful moans between kisses. Victoria decided in the moment that she’d rather hear Trinity than kiss her, so she broke from Trinity’s lips and began mouthing at her jaw, sucking and biting and leaving as much evidence of herself as possible. She would mark Trinity, because Trinity was hers, and she was Trinity’s, and she needed everyone to know it. Victoria shivered in response to the breathy moans that came from deep in Trinity’s throat.
“Fuck, oh my god, Vic,” she whined, still pulling Victoria further into her. One hand was grasping Victoria’s dark hair and the other was leaving long, red marks across Victoria’s back with her nails.
Victoria just whimpered softly in response, the force of her own movement and her arousal rendering her incapable of speaking. Her hips were beginning to stutter in their thrusts, exhaustion starting to take its toll on her body, but it seemed that the inconsistency of her actions were only making it better for Trinity as her moans became louder, more frequent. Then Victoria felt, rather than saw— her face was still buried anywhere from the crook of Trinity’s neck to the space between her breasts— as Trinity’s body begin to shake, and the bedroom filled with the noise of her constant cursing.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whimpered— sounding almost bratty— almost like a complaint in its tone, but Victoria knew it was the lilt Trinity’s voice gained when she was about to cum.
Victoria wanted her to cum, she wanted her to feel how much she loved her every time their hips met. She didn’t even know what she was doing, every movement she made was instinct, desperation to please Trinity that was so all-consuming that it operated subconsciously.
“Love you, fuck, I love you, Vic,” Trinity moaned, loud, completely unashamed, and Victoria wasn’t sure that she had heard it. She thought that she must have imagined it somehow, or maybe she was hallucinating the whole thing. Maybe none of this was real, and she was, in reality, alone in her bed, pathetically picturing Trinity with her own fingers inside herself.
But she wasn’t. It was all completely, breathtakingly real. Trinity was there, holding Victoria against herself, moaning her name, saying that she loved her. All Victoria could do was lift herself up slightly and kiss Trinity, deeply and passionately, because she did not know how to form the words she needed. She didn’t know how to say I love you, too, not with words, so she let her body say it for her.
Trinity came with a long, breathy whine, her back bowing off the bed as she babbled, Fuck, and Vic, and Oh my god, and I love you.
Victoria didn’t stop until Trinity’s moans became soft whimpers. She pulled out as slowly and gently as possible, yanked the dildo out of the O-ring, and collapsed into Trinity’s open arms.
They were quiet for a long time. The only sound was their heavy breathing and the pattering of rain on Trinity’s window. Victoria distantly wondered how long ago the rain had begun, but most of her brainpower was spent on her walking through what had just happened in her mind. She was so tired that she could barely comprehend any of it. She didn’t know what to make of any of it, and as if reading her mind, Trinity spoke.
“I love you.” There was another long pause, and then, “I meant it. Earlier, at the bar, I didn’t know what was… the best thing for you, I guess, at the time. I didn’t want to make it worse by saying the wrong thing. But I love you.”
Her voice was hoarse and unmistakably full of emotion. She absentmindedly traced Victoria’s spine as she spoke.
She let Trinity’s words wash over her before she replied. There was, as dumb as it was, a sense of victory that arose at her confession. If Trinity could read her mind, Victoria thought to herself, she would probably make fun of her right now for her big, dumb ego. Trinity always teased her about that, and Victoria had always pretended to hate it while privately blushing at the attention.
On the other hand, though, a feeling she could not have put into words if she tried was bringing sharp tears to the corners of her eyes. She felt… satisfied. Like she could melt into Trinity’s chest forever, as they were right then, and be happy that way. She didn’t need any more than that. She didn’t need more.
So she swallowed the lump in her throat, and she looked up at Trinity.
“I love you, too.”
Trinity kissed her on the forehead.
They cleaned up, at some point, and didn’t bother to put pajamas on. Trinity put on a shitty rom-com, like she always did, and Victoria fell asleep in the middle, like she always did. They slept in each other’s arms, unfazed by the thunder that had begun to sound every few minutes outside Trinity’s window.
Victoria woke up, just once, in the middle of the night. It was still raining, and Trinity was still there.
“I love you,” Victoria whispered to her. She didn’t need a response. She tucked her head back into the crook of Trinity’s neck and fell back asleep.
She dreamt of an apartment, small, but so full of personality and charm, full of plants and throw blankets and quirky lampshades. And in that apartment, she and a green-eyed girl were dancing around the kitchen, laughing about something. It didn’t matter what.