Issue #3 | Don't Take Your Love Away
Thou shalt not get wine drunk while they're missing an ex...
TRIGGER WARNING: The first section of this issue contains physical conflict and emotional tension that may be distressing for some readers.
Straps & the City is an ongoing Black sapphic fiction about four Detroit-based women navigating life, love, and friendship.
*Set the vibes with the themed playlist in section 4!*
Previously: Destiny has mixed feelings about curving Jazz and some realizations about her relationship with Tim. She’s goin’ through it BAD bad.
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“Mmm,” Cassidy moaned. “Just like that.”
Her body rocked gently on the satin sheets as Jazz stroked her deep and slow—one hand pinning her arm above her head, the other gripping her thigh.
“I gotchu, baby,” Jazz whispered, dragging her closer. “Just stop runnin’.”
Cassidy’s eyes rolled back in her head. She felt like she had been stirred into a big, warm bowl of melted butter. Decadent and rich.
“Oh my god…” she breathed, gripping the sheets with her free hand.
Jazz’s chain swung back and forth over her as she knocked against her spot like a Jehovah’s Witness at the door. But she was having trouble allowing herself to surrender fully.
Letting someone else hold the reins had always made her feel a little antsy after a while.
“Baby?” she said raspily.
“Mm hm?” Jazz replied, face buried in her neck.
“I wanna ride.”
Without a word, Jazz flipped them over.
Cassidy mounted her reverse cowgirl—a position she’d returned to countless times because it allowed her both the control and the spotlight she craved.
She lifted the hair off her neck and put an arch in her back, rocking slowly.
“You feel so fuckin’ good,” she said, fluttering her eyes shut.
She tilted her head back and let out a big sigh as Jazz firmly gripped her hips. Her touch felt reassuring.
Knowing that no matter how many other women Jazz got with, they could never truly take her place made her feel powerful, but also like she was her princess.
This is how it’s supposed to be.
“You love fucking me, don’t you?”, she moaned, riding harder. She had finally found her flow.
“You know I do, baby,” Jazz said, gliding a hand up her bare back.
“How much?” she quizzed.
There was a beat of silence.
“It’s my favorite thing,” Jazz replied, voice sincere.
A satisfied grin spread across Cassidy’s face.
“Mmm. That’s right, baby,” she huffed as she began grinding more intently, fired up by her ego boost.
Jazz reached around and blindly searched for Cassidy’s clit. Finding it, she teased her mercilessly, drawing a whiny whimper.
“Oh…I’m bouta fuckin’ cum!”, Cassidy cried out.
She held onto Jazz’s arms, steadying herself but not letting up on pace.
“Gotdamn, Des. Ride that shit,” Jazz growled.
An abrupt hush fell over the room as Cassidy released Jazz’s arms and let them fall to the bed.
Even the cicadas, who had been obnoxiously buzzing outside of her window, had quieted.
Cassidy stared blankly ahead, unmoving except for the rise and fall of her chest.
She felt dissatisfied and agitated as she mourned the orgasm that was stolen from her, like a sneeze that never made its way out.
“What di—gotdamn, who?”, she stammered, climbing off of Jazz.
Her blinking rate doubled as she tried to process her thoughts.
The inside of her head sounded like TV static.
When she turned around, Jazz’s eyes were diverted away. She looked like a kid in the principal’s office awaiting their scolding.
Cassidy waited.
She needed her to say something.
Anything.
“Damn…,” Jazz finally murmured, sitting up. She still hadn’t met Cassidy’s gaze.
“Damn?”, Cassidy sneered. “Did you just call me Destiny?”
This can’t be fucking real.
“You came to my apartment to fuck me in my bed and called me somebody else’s name?”
Jazz smacked her lips.
“I mean, whatchu want me to say?” she shrugged. “You already know how I feel about her.”
Cassidy’s jaw dropped. Jazz’s nonchalance staggered her.
Her heartbeat felt like a fist trying to punch its way out of her chest.
Did this bitch really just say that shit to me?
“Bitch, did you really just say that shit to me?”, she demanded, standing up now.
Jazz followed suit.
“Nah, you know better than that,” she replied, pointing a warning finger that almost grazed Cassidy’s top lip.
“I know you upset, but you need to watch your mouth.”
As if on cue, Cassidy tagged Jazz with her open palm, leaving a red splotch on her cheek.
Jazz held her face and chuckled dangerously. It was the kind that sounded like a prerequisite to something drastic.
“It’s fucking funny?”, Cassidy asked, raising her voice. “It’s a fuckin’ joke?”
She took a step forward. She and Jazz were practically nose to nose now.
“Because personally, I’m having trouble finding the humor in this shit.” Her words were taut with anger. “And that bitch could never be me. Not even on my worst day.”
“I told you to watch your mouth,” Jazz stated plainly. She backpedaled, giving them a little more room to breathe.
The fact that Jazz was sticking up for Destiny rocked Cassidy’s world. She felt like she had gotten sucked into a vortex of betrayal.
The moment felt surreal as her scrambled thoughts whizzed by.
“Is she all you’re worried about right now?” Cassidy’s voice cracked with emotion. “Not the fact that you just hurt me?”
Once again, Jazz’s eyes dropped. It appeared she suddenly found Cassidy’s hardwood flooring more interesting than their conversation.
Cassidy folded her arms guardedly.
“Do you…” she started, but stopped herself.
She needed to stay in the space between knowing and not knowing just a little longer. There was solace in the calm that preceded the storm she knew was on the horizon.
Jazz finally looked back up at her.
“Do I what?”
The answer was already glaring Cassidy in the face, but she had to ask anyway.
She needed confirmation.
“Do you love her?”, she barely whispered.
Jazz rolled her eyes and shook her head, clearly not interested in answering.
“Man, come on, Cass. We ain’t gotta do all this.”
Cassidy scoffed, a look of hurt etched on her face.
“So, you do then.”
Jazz didn’t deny it. Instead, she looked at Cassidy like she was a bird with an injured wing.
Cassidy resented that.
That’s not fair. She doesn’t get to break me and then pity me for being broken.
“Fuck you, Jazmine.” She sounded wounded. Resigned. “Get the fuck out.”
Jazz stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Cassidy. She squeezed her tight and kissed the top of her head.
“I’m sorry.”
But her words did nothing to soothe Cassidy. And her touch only incited more anger.
She was apologizing with the same lips she’d use to kiss away Destiny’s tears. And holding her with the same arms she’d use to console her.
To love her.
Cassidy gritted her teeth and shoved Jazz so hard that the back of her head hit the wall with a thud.
Jazz squeezed her eyes shut and hissed in pain. She reached for the back of her head.
“Oh, naw,” she said, jaw tight. “You got me fucked up.”
Cassidy looked at her with a smug smile on her face. “Oh? Do I?”
Jazz shifted her weight from foot to foot.
“I’m really tryin’ not to fold yo’ ass right now, but you ain’t makin’ that shit easy.”
Cassidy forced out a loud cackle. “You ain’t gon’ do shit.”
There was a different kind of fire in Jazz’s once-smoldering brown eyes.
A thick vein made an appearance on the side of her neck as she balled her fists.
Cassidy recoiled.
A sense of genuine fear crept up. It was something she’d never felt toward Jazz before.
She could honestly say she didn’t know what was going to happen next.
Why do I always take shit so far?
Taking a step back, she tried to figure out a way to diffuse the situation.
But before she could, Jazz took two big steps toward her and pushed her back with all of her might.
Cassidy’s back hit the mattress so forcefully that she bounced.
She quickly shot back up in the bed, her chest heaving as she stared into the darkness of her bedroom.
“Fuck…”, she whispered, through panting breaths.
She looked to her left at Nicole, who was lightly stirring beside her, her back turned away.
Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, she saw that it was almost four-thirty in the morning. Still early.
These dreams are getting out of hand.
“Babe?” Nicole said groggily. “You ok?”
This was the third time this week that Cassidy had an unsettling dream about Jazz. It was starting to become a nuisance.
“Yeah,” she said, cuddling up behind her and kissing the back of her neck.
“Go back to sleep.”