cw: language, mention of statutory rape (of minor), mention of death, fuckboy behavior, mention of sex, oral sex
So-Fuck-Me-
Jugg went back in the room to untie Munchie when he woke up from his extended nap. He started to walk away when her hand weakly surrounded his wrist.
"Stay with me," she muttered.
"I really don't think that's a good idea."
"I'm sober," she replied. She opened her eyes to look at him, "I got the headache to prove it."
He chuckled and climbed into bed to hold her, her immediately turning over to face him.
"I'm sorry about earlier and about last night," she said sincerely.
"You asked me earlier why I stay to myself so much... And I was definitely drunk enough to answer it before I went to sleep."
He sighed, "My sister and her best friend got raped by three grown ass niggas on they way home from school two years ago, and neither one of them survived it. I couldn't pick them up on time that day 'cause my class ended up running late. I told them to just wait at the school for me and I'd be there, but..." he trailed off, forcing his feelings down as he recalled the experience.
"When they caught the niggas, I knew all three of them. Every single one of them was in my class and left early to go do that shit."
"Jugg, I'm so sorry."
"They came with me to pick her up a few times a couple months before that 'cause we all had something to do after I dropped her off at the house. I thought them niggas was my friends, but they ended up being the ones to take my baby from me. So after college I cut everybody off, changed my number, and moved without telling nobody, but my momma, where I was. I don't trust nobody close to me, so I keep to myself. You the first girl-the first person I had over here outside of her. That's why she assumed you was my girlfriend."
He sighed, pulling her closer, "I didn't fuck you earlier, but it ain't have shit to do with your looks, Khy'lar. You pretty as hell. But if you ain't wide awake, sober, and telling me you wanna fuck, then I can't do it. I need you to tell me you want it. 'Cause to be honest, I wouldn't mind fucking you. I can't lie and say I don't get turned on by your li'l attitude, and if I would've been any more drunk earlier, I probably would've."
She rubbed over his bare chest, tracing the lines of his tattoos, "Are you drunk right now?"
He shook his head but immediately winced at the pain of his hangover, "No, I went to sleep, too."
"Well, sex helps with hangovers. It's releases oxytocin and reduces pain," she said softly, looking to meet his eyes again.
"You making shit up?"
She giggled and climbed on top of him, his hands falling to her hips as she rubbed all over his body. "No... I can't afford to go to college right now, but I been doing a little studying on my own so I won't be completely lost when I finally get there."
"What you wanna study?"
She smiled softly at the thought of her desired career path, "Psychology. More specifically, cognitive function in relation to sexual interaction. I wanna be a sex therapist."
"That's just a professional way to say you a freak," he teased.
She laughed, "Maybe it is. How 'bout you find out?"
He sat up to kiss her shoulder, slipping her bra strap over it, "That's all you had to say."
She turned his head to press her lips against his, but immediately felt that he wasn't at all into it, so she stopped. "If you don't want me, we don't have to."
