CHAENNIE SMUT ONESHOTS

take the pleasure (with the pain) - 2

"You can do it," Jennie murmurs, her cheek pressed against Rosé's, her fingers pressing bruises into Rosé's hips. She thrusts again, lazy, and enjoys the buzzing against her clit. Rosé groans, long and pained.

"Please," she mumbles, her eyes screwed tightly shut, "please Jennie, I can't--" her voice breaks; a tear slips from her eye, falling down the side of her face and melting into her hairline.

"Sshh." Jennie bites her earlobe gently, tugging. "Be a good girl and spread wide for me."

Rosé shakes her head even as she obeys, her knees parting as wide as she can, the vibrating strap on buzzing away inside her, hidden by the only scrap of clothing Rosé still has on, the black side tie lacy panties Jennie picked out just for her. Jennie reaches back and checks the fit of the harness, shaken a little loose from the night's long activities. Rosé makes a noise that might be Jennie's name, begging. It's too garbled to parse, but the intent is clear: she's desperately pleading for mercy.

Jennie pulls out and Rosé doesn't even move, her eyes still shut. She's shuddering without pause, twitching against the sweaty sheets. "Roll over." Jennie nudges her side, and it takes Rosé three tries and Jennie's help to flop onto her belly, but she spreads her legs as soon as she's settled, tries to get to all fours, and can't. Jennie tucks a pillow under her hips, lifting Rosé up with a faint grunt, smoothing a palm over her belly gently. "What a good girl," Jennie soothes as she slides back in, holding Rosé's panties to the side until she bottoms out, slow and careful. "You've been so good already, I know you can give me one more."

"I can't," Rosé begs, muffled from where she's pressed her face into the sheets. "Please, I can't."

"I want one more." Jennie puts a little steel in her voice, then pauses when Rosé sobs, biting at the mattress. "Color."

Rosé takes a long time to answer, shaking, and Jennie rubs her hands down Rosé's flank, massaging gently. Jennie's about to pull out when Rosé finally speaks, a small, tiny whisper. "Green." Jennie hesitates, but Rosé lifts her hips and pushes back, so Jennie winds the fingers of one hand through Rosé's long hair, finds a few tangles, and lets them catch against her knuckles. She pulls Rosé's head back at the same time she tilts her hips forward, snapping hard, and likes the sound of her skin slapping wetly against Rosé's, obscene. She sets a pace, not as bruising as she had earlier, for Rosé's first and second orgasm, or as slow and easy as she had for Rosé's fourth and fifth, a break in the middle to make Rosé come on her tongue for number three. "Hands," she snaps, and Rosé winds her fingers through the bedframe.

Jennie braces her free hand on the small of Rosé's back, then switches to underneath Rosé's stomach, her index finger slipping into Rosé's bellybutton, and pulls her back against Jennie's thrusts. Rosé's panties roll and tug, twisting around the toy and her hips. "One more," Jennie murmurs, draping herself against Rosé's back and sighing at the slick skin against her chest, their sweat mixing. "One more and we're done, baby."

Rosé moans, low and guttural. "Jennie," she says, and her voice rasps like shredded glass.

Jennie straightens and goes harder, faster, her own thighs straining, her chest heaving. "One more," she promises, "you can do it. I know you can." She drags her nails down Rosé's spine, hard enough to leave red lines that'll stay for at least two days, maybe three. Rosé jolts under her, and she does it again, either side of Rosé's tattoo. "So good," Jennie croons, "you're so good for me." Rosé sobs again, her hands clenched tight, her knuckles white. "Come on, Rosé. Come for me."

She keeps it up, the praise coming easily to her tongue, showering Rosé with how soft her skin is, how her pink lips bow so perfectly, how she's so beautiful it takes Jennie's breath away to be so lucky, how she was so good for the week before when Jennie had her on no touch no come. "Remember, babe? When I ate you out for an hour and you still told me when you had to stop, and take a break? You cried so pretty at the end but you never asked me to stop." Tension coils in Rosé's spine and her head snaps up, the shadows not quite hiding the bites Jennie's peppered across her throat, one hard enough to draw break skin. Jennie remembers the taste of a single drop of Rosé's blood on her tongue and drops over Rosé's back, heavy. She grinds down, punishing. "Come for me," she orders, and on command, Rosé's back arches and Jennie imagines she can feel her clenching and fluttering around the buzzing rubber buried in her wet swollen cunt. She comes from that more than the pressure inside her from the toy or the buzzing against her clit, Rosé obeying her so perfectly, giving her every last thing she has.