Work Text:
“I love being in an altered state of consciousness.”
Francesca declared, letting smoke billow before her face into the cozy, dimly lit room. In the dark hours of the night, the room was enveloped in a soft haze and the thick odor of weed. Their half-eaten pizza sat unattended in front of them on Michaela’s tatami tea table, sharing the space with all of Francesca’s blunt rolling gear.
Michaela giggled at Francesca’s satiated smile, taking the blunt from her fingers and breathing it in. She never would have predicted that the sweet church girl she met last year would be sitting on the floor of her room smoking with her. She probably would have laughed at the idea, but here they were on god knows what session, giddy and high out of their mind.
“You’re welcome, baby.”
Francesca turned her head towards Michaela, unhurried.
“And I’m forever grateful that you introduced this to me. The science behind it all is so fascinating- it’s given me an endless source of things to research. Do you wanna hear about my research topic of the week?”
“Hit me with it.”
Francesca’s answering smile was radiant, and Michaela’s heart softened at the sight. Francesca turned fully towards Michaela in enthusiasm.
“So. Remember that one time I was telling you how cannabinoids interact with the body’s endocannabinoid system?”
Michaela nodded, recalling the smoke sesh when they had broached the subject.
“Well- there’s some research which says deficiencies in the endocannabinoid system may be linked with some of the symptoms we see in PTSD- things like heightened reactivity and problems with fear extinction. And cause of that there’s a bunch of research now studying how cannabis can help stop the consolidation of fearful memories in the brain and even help with fear extinction! How cool is that?”
“That is pretty cool.” Michaela conceded.
“I don’t know why drugs are so demonized when they’re used in the healing practices of many cultures across the world.” She added.
One thing Michaela had learned from her travels was that the world was large and the cultures in it were varied and all rich in different kinds of knowledge.
“Right? It’s such a shame. These substances really could be used to help people.”
Francesca then went into the technicalities of the research. Something to do with the differences that THC and CBD produce, and the lack of randomized control trials holding back the current research. Francesca’s hands were flying everywhere as if they were trying to keep up with the words spilling from her mouth.
Michaela took a slow drag, delighted at how the smoke seemed to warm every crevice of her chest and wanting to share it with Francesca, grabbed her chin to exhale into the Bridgerton girl’s mouth. Francesca trailed off, the smoke lingering in the almost non-existent space between their mouths, its sickly sweetness heady.
“Sorry- keep going.” Michaela whispered, aware that she had just interrupted Francesca’s enthusiastic overview of the caveats in cannabis therapy research.
Francesca blinked as Michaela’s hand fell from her chin. Her eyes took on a deranged glint.
Michaela knew she was in trouble.
Francesca grabbed her chin before Michaela could turn away and slotted her tongue where the smoke had been. Her grip was unrelenting, her tongue even more so. Michaela opened her mouth wider to give her more access, letting their tongues roll together; the blunt was forgotten in Francesca’s butterfly-shaped ashtray. A different kind of warmth filled Michaela’s chest, and she suppressed a moan as Francesca’s hand crept down to the base of her neck, holding her in place as she deepened the kiss.
Unsatisfied, Michaela scrambled onto Francesca’s lap, their lips instantly finding each other again. She wrapped her arms around Francesca’s neck, holding on for dear life as their tongues tangled in a desperate, messy rhythm over and over. She couldn’t help but grind her hips against the girl beneath her, and Francesca’s hands gripped her ass over her shorts, guiding her until her grinding matched the frantic pace of their kissing.
They broke away, only to moan into each other’s mouths with Michaela humping Francesca with all abandon. The warmth in her chest spread across her body, and Michaela felt feverish. It was as if there were weights dampening her mind. No thoughts wandered in. There was only room for sensation; the wetness making the flimsy fabric of her panties cling to her; her hard nipples straining against her bra; the almost painful way Fran was kneading her ass; the pressure on her bottom lip as Francesca took it in her mouth and sucked, so sudden that Michaela clenched her thighs from the resulting euphoric shock it sent to her clit.
She felt the vibrations of Francesca’s groan against her chest, and she licked at Michaela’s lips, dragging her tongue across her bottom lip before pushing against her tongue in a lazy, open-mouthed kiss. Michaela was completely soaked through. She knew it wouldn’t take much for her to come, and her grinding took on a renewed rigour before Francesca’s slender fingers stilled her hips.
Francesca drew back, leaving a strand of saliva connecting their lips. Her pupils were blown wide.
Michaela was sure they were a mirror to her own.
“Fran,” Michaela breathed, irked at the kiss being cut short.
“Hmmm?” Francesca replied, undisturbed. Instead, she brought her hand to Michaela’s face and let her thumb snag on her bottom lip, dragging it down and opening her mouth. Michaela gently nipped at the pad of her thumb, desperate, to which Francesca chuckled.
“This is payback for interrupting me before.”
Michaela rolled her eyes, but before she could say anything back, Francesca slipped her index and middle fingers into her mouth.
“Since you want my fingers in your mouth so bad.” Francesca said in explanation.
Michaela hollowed out her cheeks on instinct to suck on Francesca’s digits, and she felt her shudder in response. Francesca’s fingers slid deeper and deeper until her mouth was stuffed and she felt herself on the precipice of gagging, but Michaela pushed the urge down to hold Francesca’s hungry gaze.
“How are you close already?” Francesca asked, a mere observation, eyes heavy-lidded and frantic.
Michaela let out a muffled whine, tears stinging her eyes. She grinded her hips once more to show just how close she was, but Francesca stilled her again.
“Well- it does make sense. Some studies do say that THC increases sensitivity to touch and- ah- other bodily sensations.” Francesca’s voice was uneven and shuddering.
All Michaela could do was nod helplessly as Francesca rambled about goddamn molecules.
Every patch of her skin felt aflame, and she couldn’t go on like this. Not when Fran seemed intent on torturing her. So, she took hold of Francesca’s wrist, looked her straight in the eyes, and bobbed her head to force Francesca’s fingers in and out of her mouth.
Francesca let out a strangled noise, halfway between a groan and a whimper. She bit her lip and pulled her fingers out of Michaela’s mouth with a loud pop.
“Cum in your pants for me.” Francesca pleaded out of nowhere.
Michaela pinned her with a pointed stare, still gulping air after having Francesca’s fingers in her mouth.
“Baby–”
“–Please Micky? I-I just wanna watch you come undone- I just wanna see it, please?”
Michaela’s head fell forward, resting in the crook of Francesca’s neck, if only to hide the way that statement affected her.
“You’re gonna make me do something embarrassing, huh?” Michaela nipped at the soft freckles dotted along Francesca’s throat.
“That’s what makes it good, no?”
The expression that Michaela saw on Francesca’s face as she drew back was so innocent- too innocent for the request that had left her mouth just seconds before.
Michaela groaned, throwing her head back in mock frustration.
“You’re lucky I love you.” Michaela replied while adjusting herself so that Francesca’s thigh was between her legs. She made sure her knee lodged neatly between the apex of Francesca’s thighs. If she was going down, she was taking Fran down with her.
Francesca’s throat bobbed.
Michaela smiled.
She steadied herself by placing her hands on Francesca’s shoulders while Francesca’s hands fisted into balls at her side.
She really is dedicated to the whole watching thing huh? Michaela thought.
If that was the case, Michaela was going to make this as agonizing as possible for her.
She lowered herself slowly until her wet core was pressed flat against Francesca’s thigh. The pressure on her clit made Michaela jolt, and she heard Francesca gasp. A sharp intake of air later, Michaela was rocking back and forth, leaving a patch of wetness on Francesca’s thigh. She felt the same cold wetness seep onto her knee.
Michaela fucked herself on Francesca’s thigh all the while making eye contact with the Bridgerton girl. Her jaw was clenched, and she was breathing hard. Occasionally, a small whimper would escape Francesca’s mouth. Michaela played up her moans; they were dirty and loud. She would be embarrassed if not for the sight in front of her. Francesca looked so pained, so pathetic, and it almost made her laugh because it was no one’s fault but her own.
“Holding up okay?”
“Mhm.”
Michaela’s thoroughly wet knee said otherwise, but then again, Francesca was never a good liar.
Michaela picked up the pace, feeling the rising crescendo of her climax building, but she didn’t want to arrive without Francesca. She stopped grinding and clenched around Francesca’s thigh.
Hard.
“Can you just touch me? Fran please- need you to touch me so bad.” Michaela begged.
She resumed her grinding, moaning out Francesca’s name and begging her to touch her.
It seemed to break Francesca’s resolve because the next second her hands were everywhere; palming Michaela’s breasts; snaking around her back; crawling up her thighs- it was as if she couldn’t decide where to keep them. Her mouth bruised the space between Michaela’s collarbone and neck, her breath tickling the sensitive area, and she licked up the length of her throat, eliciting a loud cry from Michaela.
Michaela was at the very precipice, and she took Francesca’s face in her hand to bring their foreheads together as the violence of her orgasm ripped through her. Francesca’s arms wrapped tightly around her, bringing Michaela impossibly close. It felt almost like she was trying to fuse them together as she panted into her open mouth and rutted into Michaela’s knee until she came to a chorus of breathless declarations of love.
“Round two?” Francesca asked, not even seconds after they had reached their climax.
“Fuck yes.”
Michaela’s head dangled off the side of the bed, and she heard the squelch of Francesca’s fingers plunging into her soaking pussy. Her other hand rubbed slow, tantalizing circles on her clit.
From the mirror, she saw Francesca’s eyes zeroed in on the place where they were connected. Her mouth was open almost as if she was panting with the way her bare chest heaved up and down. High, breathy moans tangled with the wanton whines escaping Michaela’s own mouth. The sight made her clench hard, and she felt herself spilling even more cum around Francesca’s fingers and down her thighs.
She didn’t know how that was possible. The sheets were already drenched by the mess she was making.
The noise Francesca made in return was half-animalistic, and she picked up the pace with her fingers.
“I-It’s like- you’re just sucking me in- all by yourself- so eager-” Francesca huffed out.
Michaela could only utter expletives, expletives, and Francesca’s name. She chanted it as if it were the only prayer she knew.
“Fran- s-so good. Fuck!” Michaela babbled as she felt the knot of pleasure build at her apex.
Francesca giggled wickedly as she pressed the heel of her palm down against Michaela’s navel and simultaneously curled her fingers inside Michaela’s tight, gummy walls. Michaela cried out, and her hips shot up, overwhelmed by the rolling static of pleasure that assaulted the entirety of her body. Every sound but the heavy thump of her heart was drowned out as white spots coloured the periphery of her vision. Her mouth hung open in a perfect O, and her hips moved on their own accord, rutting into Fran’s fingers as she rode out the seemingly never-ending wave of euphoria. She drenched the sheets again, and she was sure she had squirted all over Francesca, but she couldn’t see her. She was completely spent, and her eyes were screwed shut.
Vaguely, she sensed Francesca slipping her fingers out and positioning herself above her writhing body, one leg by her torso and the other between her legs. A hand groped at her breast, pinching and pebbling her nipple, and another spread her legs wide open. She was met with Francesca’s dripping folds sliding against her own, warm and deliciously wet. Their cum mixed together as it coated the inside of Michaela’s thighs while Francesca rolled her hips into Michaela.
The shockwaves of pleasure buoyed through her body each time Francesca’s clit brushed her own. The friction on her puffy bud fanned the dying sparks of sharp pleasure into a raging tidal wave of ecstasy once more, painfully close to cresting but not quite. Michaela held it at bay, wanting to share the moment with Francesca. Her hand slipped from the sheets she had been gripping and palmed Francesca’s hand over her breast.
Francesca instantly clasped their hands together despite being lost in the act of riding Michaela out, grinding her hips back and forth in an unsteady rhythm. The bed creaked as Francesca bounced, caressing her clit and folds against Michaela’s, and she muttered, illegibly.
Michaela hardly felt real. She couldn’t remember ever feeling as full and warm as she did then. No matter that holding her climax felt almost painful, the warmth of their hands against her chest as they performed the most intimate act of vulnerability made the experience almost transcendental- of another plane of existence. Or maybe that was the weed talking. But Michaela was sure of one thing.
It was the only thing she was sure of.
“I love you.” Michaela declared with all the conviction she could muster in her pathetic state, eyes only on Francesca.
It was all it took for Francesca’s pinnacle to take full force. She threw her head back and exclaimed Michaela’s name, and Michaela finally let the tidal wave take over her body, shuddering all over. Francesca’s body fell limp next to Michaela’s, and she brought their clasped hands to her lips to place a tender kiss across Michaela’s knuckles.
“I love you, too.” Francesca whispered.
Michaela watched from the bed as Francesca sat by her tatami table, rolling another blunt in nothing but her underwear.
The first rays of dawn streamed into the room as Francesca made neat work of the blunt. She approached the task with the same controlled intensity that she approached any other. She had a bedazzled herbal grinder and a matching lighter. And every session, she would bring a fresh Japanese blade in the book-style cigarette case she had gotten as a gift from Eloise to cut the tobacco-leaf paper. She didn’t want to risk tearing the paper, she would say.
Francesca took the paper and wetted it with her tongue, making sure to keep eye contact with Michaela.
Michaela rolled her eyes.
“Dumbass.”
Francesca giggled at that before pinching the paper into a trough that she funneled the weed into. Her fingers were nimble and efficient as she rolled the blunt. She then took her lighter to seal the edges.
“Tada!” She held the blunt up like a trophy once she was done.
“How are you such a natural at all of this?”
“At what?”
“Rolling blunts and you know… sex.” They just had mind-numbing, nasty sex, but Michaela still felt shy saying it out loud.
Francesca suppressed a smug smile, but then seemed to be thinking hard about her question.
“Well, years of piano playing means I got pretty good with my hands.” She offered, then paused for a second.
“So, transferable skills, I guess?”
Michaela burst out laughing. Oh, how she loved her silly girlfriend.