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The word pathetic holds different meanings to different people.
By definition; it’s arousing pity especially through vulnerability and/or sadness. Other meanings may be miserably inadequate or of very low standard or having a capacity to move one to either compassionate or contemptuous pity.
People could be pathetic; like the politicians constantly trying to push anti-mutant policy through congress simply on the notion of “different DNA makes them inferior” or the pathetic display of sports teams trying to be above a .500 win percentage by the time the season ends. Pathetic can also mean something lackluster, like Rogue’s attempts to say she wasn’t deathly into Gambit or Nightcrawler’s pitiful excuses on why he was always late to mission debriefs or Logan pathetically attempting to hide the fact that yes, he was getting entertained by Angel and Iceman’s stupid antics at the stick hockey table.
Pathetic can mean a lot of things to a lot of different people.
Ororo Munroe seems not pathetic by any metric of the word.
She’s possibly the X-Men’s strongest leader— that’s when Scott and Logan aren’t having a dick measuring contest about who should lead the team despite the small angry Canadian clearly thinking with a soldier-like mentality instead of a leader-like mentality. She controls the clouds at her fingertips, she’s wildly intelligent and she can sometimes sense a person’s emotional state better than the telepaths living in the mansion. She’s a woman with high standards, oftentimes using compassion and common sense to make someone’s day better.
She’s graceful; composed and controlled when she needs to be. She doesn’t let things overwhelm her and she’s often the voice of reason.
Ororo always thought she was controlled and composed… until Jean Grey decided to come in and ruin her in the best ways possible.
Because Jean made Ororo needy in ways that were genuinely embarrassing to the woman herself. She didn’t realize the redhead had this effect on her either… until she began to ache for her. Then it transformed into something emotional; the weight of her on the side of the bed, hearing her stupid humming while making coffee that sometimes got on her nerves because Jean refused to ever hum an actual song, missing the absentminded feeling of Jean checking in on the goddess’ mind throughout the day because Ororo granted her permission, Jean without question always going to her side because her body just naturally drifted to it.
Ororo didn’t realize that between all this cute romantic yearning three states away… yeah… this was also happening sexually too.
She couldn’t put a finger on it for whatever reason (it was horniness.) but she was missing Jean’s legs around her head. Missing her fingers through her white hair as her tongue worked her folds. Missed the nightly routine of eating Jean out. Missed the feeling of sitting on her face and feeling Jean overwork her jaw to the point it cramped. Missed the feeling of Jean’s fingers thrusting in and out of her because she knew just the way to ruin Ororo. Missed the feeling of Jean’s hands on her hips, refusing to let her pull out when she used her strap on her.
Ororo missed it, and she didn’t realize just how much she missed it… until tonight.
Cause obviously; yes, she loves her girlfriend, so the yearning to always be with her stuck in her mind, she wasn’t heartless, but she didn’t realize it would take shape this hard.
The hotel room Ororo was shacked up in was not too bad. In fact, it’s one of the nicest rooms in the hotel.
Being out of state to handle some stupid mutant affairs with some fancy, snoozing politicans about peace talks between mutants and humans; Ororo becoming a top spokesperson on the behalf of the main faction of the X-Men— the mission wasn’t even that fucking difficult, it was just tedious.
Talking to silver-spoon men who don’t actually care about the mutants, only wanting to win their election bids. Negotiating with underground mutants about what problems the state is dealing with that the X-Men could help out with. Having to explain to a new reporter every hour about who she is and what she means to a certain population of people. She was just glad to be out of there for the night and heading home soon enough; just one more politician to talk to, then hit up the fellow mutants in the area to talk to them then she’ll be home. One long ass week of being away and she’s counting down the hours until she gets the final call to go home.
She handled it perfectly like she always did, but deep down, she was getting tired and even worse; lonely.
Because when Ororo was lonely? She began to think. Think about everything, think about her everything.
The hotel room was dimly lit with only the soft overhead light casting the room in a soft orange hue. The city lights glowed outside of the massive windows with the clear night sky, stars shining bright. Her clothes were packed in the suitcase, case files and paperwork sitting happily on the glass table in the corner.
She had tried to distract herself already. She had already attempted to read the books that the hotel left in the drawer, went downstairs into the casino area and got bored looking at the same rotating slots and bright colors
She got back to her hotel room and took a nice, long ass shower and got changed into nightwear aka an old t-shirt and a pair of panties. Already tried to work on the paperwork— just about everything to distract herself away from who truly overtook her mind in quietness like this. Hell, even threw on the television and watched a random show that was running, but nothing worked.
Her mind continued to swirl with the thoughts of Jean, somehow, someway. She tried to not think too much of her; only because it got her in her feels. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to think about Jean, it’s just… Ororo missed her terribly.
She watched an old romance movie on the television but her thoughts circled back to Jean right before she left; the goodbye kiss at the mansion, the way Jean smiled and kissed her, sleepily murmuring a “come back soon” against her mouth and the way she promised not to invade Ororo’s mind during her trip away. Sometimes, Jean likes to peek into Ororo’s mind when she’s away… but she hasn’t this trip, mostly because Jean didn’t want to accidentally mess her up at the worst time possible, so she stuck to her own mind.
Even trying to distract herself, it didn’t fucking work; and Ororo hates it. She knows she’s so lost out of all nights tonight because she’s going to be able to go home tomorrow so of course, her mind is going to think about the woman she wanted to go home to.
On the bedside table next to the hotel bed sits Ororo’s phone facedown, the hotel telephone and clock, as well as her gold jewelry in a neat pile… and one perfume bottle.
It wasn’t Ororo’s perfume bottle… It was Jean’s perfume. One of her favorite scents.
It was a bottle Ororo had quietly stolen from their shared bathroom in the X-Mansion before leaving. Not a permanent robbery; Jean owned three identical bottles of this stuff anyway, but Ororo liked having something to do with Jean when she was gone. Sometimes, it was a bracelet, or a photo, other times it was one of Jean’s shirts or a pair of her lacy panties (a pair that Ororo had managed to not rip up to that point)… and this time? It was the perfume Jean loved wearing on their dates and a girl’s night out, it smelt exactly like her— which to Ororo was all she needed. The scent comforted her through the week, one quick sniff of it and her mind came back to her, the yearning didn’t hurt so much afterwards.
She looked over to grab her phone… but her eyes landed on the perfume bottle instead, the rectangle glass bottle.
The red liquid in the bottle sits happily, the text on the bottle “Sogno in Rosso” glistening at certain angles. Ororo remembered the first time smelling it on Jean’s skin; the blend of vanilla and wood and spice… she remembers nearly losing her mind because of how good she smelt. Also, it was expensive, but fuck— it smelt so good that Ororo couldn’t argue with the price point.
Slowly, her hand reaches over and wraps around the cold bottle, bringing it closer to her as Ororo just… looks at it. She sits against the pillows, one each under her body as she just examines the small bottle.
The second her fingers uncap the perfume, Jean’s scent enters Ororo’s mind.
It was unmistakably Jean’s scent— she felt it in every fucking inch of her body.
Ororo closes her eyes, not even having to put the bottle close to her nose to get hit with the scent and every single part of her brain immediately goes back to Jean. Her scent. How it felt to smell it on the redhead. The perfume mixing with Jean’s natural scent… it was a dangerous thing. Because the scent carried memories and suddenly, Ororo could picture Jean perfectly, down to the freckles, the sleepy green eyes, the warm hands reaching for her and her orange hair sprawled on the bed.
The ache in Ororo’s chest remained… but there was another element to it… a deeper, hormonal reaction to the scent.
She missed her girl, badly, and too bad the hormonal part of her brain took action over her own body.
Without a second thought, Ororo turned the nozzle and with her left hand grabbing the pillow to the left of her, she sprayed it on the thing.
Once. Twice for good measure.
And the scent instantly fills the room as it settles into the yellow fabric of the pillow case with no issue. Suddenly, with the scent entering Ororo’s brain, the empty hotel room becomes impossibly constrained, and Ororo couldn’t control her brain when it got to this place of thought.
Shuddering and letting out a soft sigh, Ororo sat on the bed on her knees, digging into the mattress as both hands fist the pillow. Bringing the pillow up to her face, Ororo sniffs the pillow and immediately gets overwhelmed with Jean’s scent. It overpowers her senses and she can't control her hands.
It’s pathetic. It’s truly fucking pathetic. If Jean ever discovered what she was doing in this hotel room… she’d never stop teasing her.
She moves the pillow downwards and shamelessly shoves the stupid thing in between her thighs, her legs shaking with part need, part just… anticipation as she puts her weight on the perfume-scented pillow, pussy right on the middle of the most scented spot.
With both hands holding onto the bed, palms deep into the mattress, Ororo grinds on it once… then again… and again.
She slowly begins to grind back and forth on the scented pillow; the scent of Jean helping her immerse in the feeling ten fold. Her mind warps around the thought of the redhead as her pussy flutters, each grind against the pillow only rubbing her folds in the best way possible— even with the barrier of her panties in the way, her right hand needily shoving her sleep shirt up away from the pillow to give her pussy every inch of the pillow.
The scent comforts Ororo in the same way it makes Ororo wet. All it does is make Ororo think about Jean… and touching Jean.
The thoughts of holding her down into the mattress as she fucks into her with one of many straps they had, listening to those pretty sounds that never failed to leave her mouth when she got overwhelmed. Remembering the taste of Jean’s cum as she licked it out of her after being in between her thighs. The way Jean pulled on her white hair, created scratch marks on her back and her stomach, the way her words would just get broken by moans and whimpers as Ororo brought her pleasure… it came rushing back to her mind and filled her senses.
“Jean… oh fuck, Jean…” She whispers, closing her eyes for a quick moment and picturing her.
And in isolation like this? With no teammates, no interruptions, nobody there to witness just how quickly Ororo unraveled for her redhead’s scent? Oh, it was bad.
She continues to rut against the pillow, moans filling up the hotel bedroom as her hands leave the mattress, her right hand grabbing the other pillow and putting it in front of her. Just as quickly, she grabs the perfume bottle and sprays the pillow in front of her several times. Almost to overload the scent onto the pillow so she doesn’t forget. She throws the bottle back to the bed as she bends down; burying her face into the pillow with a loud groan as she sniffs deeply.
Her left hand? Blindly opens the drawer and grabs something… something she hid from herself so she wouldn’t think about it too hard. Hiding it from house cleaning because they never checked the drawers as well.
Her fingers wrap around it and barely have enough willpower to shut the drawer, but she feels the slick silver material of her bullet vibrator. With her face in the pillow sniffing with no care, her hips grinding against the other pillow in between her legs, Ororo started up the vibrator, at her favorite medium pace and didn’t hesitate to immediately put it on her clit.
She shudders at the feeling, back arching in the air as she moves her body. Her left hand held the vibrator and her right hand pressed into the mattress as she grinded on both the vibrator and the pillow.
“Jean! Jean! Mhm… fuck, sw-sweetheart.” Ororo moans into the pillow, her vision blurring as she moans into the pillow.
Her mind blurs on if, in this current moment, she’s thinking about fucking Jean or getting fucked by Jean. She’s not sure if she can make up her mind on if this pillow under her represents Jean on her back and Ororo’s strap is thrusting in and out of her or if the pillow is being imagined as Jean’s strap and she’s riding it— she’s honestly not quite sure, Ororo just knows that it’s Jean and it’s only Jean. Her heart races as each rock into the pillow and vibrator brings her closer and closer to her orgasm.
“Oh-Oh Jean… so good f’me… such a pretty pussy, oh fuck.” Ororo speaks into the pillow, tilting her head to the right to sniff it again, rolling her eyes back as her finger presses the plus button on the vibrator, picking up its pace and riding harder on the damn thing, the bullet going in between her folds and quivers harder.
Ororo knew Jean so well physically that she could imagine her body underneath her right now. “You’d look so fucking pretty for me, baby.” She groans, closing her eyes for one moment and imagining her again. “Be-Begging me to replace the vibrator with my dick… begging for- for me to— ahhhhhh, fuck!— begging me to fuck you so good… how could I deny you, darling?”
She speaks as if the redhead is in the room with her, moaning so loud that the people renting out the rooms above, below, to the side of her could probably hear her at this point but Ororo could not give a damn; when she’s so close to cumming, she ain’t going to stop for no one.
Each whiff of the pillow, each grind against the other pillow and the feeling of this toy against her clit breaks her further and further. Her right hand clenches the bedsheets as her left hand rubs her pussy as well as rubbing the vibrator up and down her slick folds, humping the pillow below her as she feels her orgasm slash through her.
“Jean! Jean! ‘M gonna cum f-for you baby… gonna cum all over you, darling… oh shit!” And without second thought, at the perfect angle; Ororo falls over the edge, body spasming as her eyes roll back, mouth agape and her toes curl the air.
She shakes against the pillows, hard knuckling the bed as her orgasm seeps into her body. Pleasure rocks her body to the core as the thought of Jean keeps her orgasm going, as well as the overstimulated nudges of her hips on the pillow and vibrator as well.
Her body becomes tired quick but she mewls out in please as her fingers are slow to turn off the toy, softening the grip she has on the bed as she tries to come back to the real world; reality of being in a lonely hotel bed with two pillows being used, with her redhead’s scent all over it also helping her cling to any sense of said reality.
Ororo slowly comes down from her high, vision coming back to her as every sense in her body is slow to return but eventually comes back. The pillow is soaked as well as her panties and the vibrator— covered in her cum as she peels it out from her panties, looking at the glistening display of need.
“Fuck…” She mutters, not hesitating to continue. “Wish Jean was here to lick it clean…” Wow, just amazing thoughts to have about your girlfriend, Ororo. She tells herself as she opens the drawer with her ring and middle finger and throws the vibrator in there; she’ll clean it tomorrow.
She moves her legs, pushing the pillow from in between her thighs, flipping it onto the non… wet side and putting it back to the head of the bed, doing the same thing with the other pillow that only has Jean’s perfume on it, the smell still lingering even on the other side of it. Her panties are sticky with her own cum as Ororo puts her head in the pillows, her right hand reaching over and clicking the lamp off, grabbing the remote for a quick moment to turn that off as well.
In the darkness of the room, she places the remote down and her hand drifts to her phone, lifting it and turning it on, immediately seeing new messages sitting on her bottom of her screen.
“Sweetheart”... oh, Jean! Her mind thinks as she puts in her password (Her birthday) and reads the messages that she ignored; not on purpose, but when you’re grinding on a pillow and a vibrator… you kind of forget your surroundings...
(Sent 1:44 a.m.) Sweetheart: Hey baby. Hope ur trip is going good! Call me when u can
(Sent 1:44 a.m.) Sweetheart: Also, just a question, do you know where my other bottle of perfume went? The Valentino one. I ran out of my other bottle and the other one, I let Anna use and she took it with her but I can’t find the other one. I was thinking u might know where it is.
(Sent 1:45 a.m.) Sweetheart: If not, that’s no problem! Just checking, baby.
(Sent 1:55 a.m.) Ro: Sorry baby but idk where it is
(Sent 1:56 a.m.) Ro: Maybe check the guest bathrooms, you know how people get when it comes to taking shit then never telling you they took it.
(Sent 1:58 a.m.) Sweetheart: Ur probably right!
Ororo’s expression softens after responding to Jean— totally not feeling a tiny bit bad she was lying to her pretty girlfriend about not knowing where the perfume is… how is she realistically supposed to tell her that yeah, she has the perfume, and she just used it as a sex toy— and closing her phone, seeing her lockscreen.
A date night between her and Jean, a photobooth strip of four photos… her favorite photo? Her and Jean kissing, Jean tipping the baseball cap Ororo was wearing with a stupid smile on her face, Ororo’s hands fisting the leather jacket Jean was wearing. Romantic and intimate are the only two words to describe the photos.
She softly sighs in the empty room, the darkness of the room besides the moonlight bursting into the room brings Ororo a quiet peace as she places the phone down on the bed. “Come back to me soon, my love.” She murmurs quietly, closing her eyes as she tries to get some hours of sleep… and then? After a moment, almost speaking to whatever God was high above. “...And please, never find out about this.”
Knowing Jean and her love of peeking into her mind? She’ll find out about this… but for now, it’s a dirty little secret with a dirtier vibrator.