“For black ‘millennials,’ the push for self-love is inspiring major change, but for that change to have maximum effect it’s going to have to celebrate the beauty of darker-skinned, coily-haired women, too.”
Hi my name is Sandra and I am the founder and editor-in-chief of Oni Magazine. Oni magazine is an online mag featuring speculative and experimental works by people of color. I created this mag because I noticed in speculative fiction and avant garde spaces there was a lack of visible people of color despite out many contributions. I want this to be space where I can give people of color the voice to express themselves fully and wholeheartedly. My goal is to raise enough money to pay contributors, maintain the website, and overall grows as a mag as I hope to branch into other things. My last few tries to raise money failed but I hope this time around, with using a reputable site, I can raise enough money to cultivate Oni to a global force.
When creating COCA, we wanted to create a platform that could be about and enjoyed by the POC community that highlights diversity, thoughts and passions that we share. We are looking for contributors to write for our site, if you’re interested message us! So what are we about:
COCA Mag is a online and print (still in the making)
magazine that showcases all forms of art, writing, music, fashion by and
for p.o.c (people of color).
COCA was created as a platform that
strives to give a voice and a space for p.o.c creatives. This platform
is inclusive and push diversity into these mediums that allows for
critical thought and open conversation. We make it our mission to
publish work that is real and transparent. We tell our stories through
our work and we want to share yours.
She wants her on her tongue, wants her in her blood, wants Maggie every way it’s possible to want someone. Every way she never thought she could want someone.
But she’s not the only one whose body is bruised and whose heart is scarred; not the only one who was activated by the sight, the sound, the reality, of Lilian Luthor, in their presence, in their bar.
The bar where Lilian had orchestrated the massacre of so many of Maggie’s friends. Just because of…
Alex won’t think about it, can’t, but she knows enough to let the woman who’s burning her skin with pleasant flames just with the power of memory, of fantasy, of love… she knows enough, grieves enough, to let Maggie sleeps.
Because sleep is all too rare, these days.
So Alex tries not to wake her and she tries not to disturb her, but god, god, fuck, she wants her.
She bites her lip as her eyes graze over Maggie’s sleeping, peaceful face, hair tossed slightly over her forehead.
She bites her lip as she slips her hand, quietly, quietly, down her own pajama pants.
She bites her lip to help her swallow her gasp as her strong fingers sweep over her clit.
She bites her lip and she rolls her hips slightly, softly, desperately trying not to wake Maggie, but god, does she need more.
She needs more, because images of Maggie’s tongue between her legs, the feeling of her fingers slipping deep, deep inside her, the ecstasy of her mouth on her nipples, her hands on her ass, flash through her mind and tear through her body.
She glances at Maggie – still sleeping peacefully – and she shifts.
Shifts so she’s laying on her stomach instead of on her back, shifts so when her fingers draw hard, fast circles right above her clit, the added pressure of the mattress, of gravity, courses through her veins.
She tries to breathe into her pillow so her increasingly ragged breath doesn’t wake her; tries to keep her hips relatively still so the movement rocking the bed doesn’t disturb her; but when she thinks about, dreams about, fantasizes about, the way Maggie’s head tilts back, the way her fingers reach up for Alex’s breasts, the way Maggie moans her name like a prayer, when Alex rides her, needy and reckless and solid, Alex can’t stop the sharp hiss of breath from forcing out of her lips.
Maggie’s voice is groggy and thick with sleep, and Alex curses internally, swallowing a whine, her body frozen.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Go back to sleep babe, it’s only me.”
But Maggie blinks her eyes open and the effect would be adorable if Alex weren’t so turned on.
“You okay? Did you have another nightmare, Ally, did you – “
But her eyes sweep down to the way Alex’s hands are pinned beneath her body, underneath her hips; the way Alex’s face is flushed, the way she’s breathing quickly, the way her eyes are fire and clarity and thirst.
“Danvers,” she says again, and her voice is still full of the gravel of sleep, but now it’s layered with something else. Something deeper, something needier. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to uh… disturb.”
Alex turns so her face is buried in her pillow, groaning, and Maggie slips closer to her instantly.
“Hey, hey, Alex, look at me.”
“Alex, please, babe.”
Alex shifts so one eye is off the pillow, and the little Maggie can see of her face is tinged with red.
“I’m sorry, Maggie, it… I didn’t mean to wake you, and it’s stupid, and I – “
She starts shifting off her stomach as she talks, and Maggie hovers her hands just shy of touching her, but the effect is the same: Alex stills.
“Whoa whoa, Alex, no, it’s not…” She blinks sleep out of her eyes and she leans up on her elbow, cheek resting on her hand. “It’s not stupid, babe, I’m glad you were…” Maggie smiles and she touches Alex’s chin gently, tenderly, lovingly. “I’m glad you were taking care of yourself. You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Danvers, it uh… it… it’s pretty hot, actually.”
Alex turns her face so she can see Maggie fully, now, fire stoking again in the pit of her stomach at Maggie’s admission.
Maggie lets out a single laugh.
“Uh, yeah. Big time, Danvers. Did you um… did you want to… continue? I didn’t mean to disturb you, I…”
Alex bites her lip. “You’re not disturbing me.”
Something that looks a lot like a supernova flashes in Maggie’s eyes. “Do you want… help? I can talk you through it. If you want.”
“Talk me through it?”
“If you’re comfortable. I mean, we don’t have to – “
“No, I just… you mean you want me to keep going. And you…”
“Talk you through it.”
“Talk me through it. While I touch myself.”
Maggie’s breath hitches. “That’s the basic idea, Danvers.”
“That would be… fun for you?”
Maggie’s eyes rake up and down Alex’s body and she takes a long, slow breath. “Yeah. Yeah, it definitely would.”
Alex’s voice is small when she answers, but god, is she sure.
“So what um… what were you thinking about? Or what do you want me to tell you about?”
Alex purses her lips and Maggie kisses her temple. “It’s okay, babe, we don’t have to – “
“I want you to tell me a fantasy you have. About us. I mean, if you have any, you don’t have to, it’s okay if you don’t, I – “
“Danvers, you want me to talk to you while you touch yourself for me or not?”
Alex hisses and Maggie grins.
“So um… that’s a yes?”
“Okay. You tell me if what I say isn’t hot for you, I can change it, okay? So um… sometimes I think about… uh… Fuck, um.”
Alex bites her lip for her, her eyes wide, her hips starting to move on her own fingers again, and it’s all the inspiration Maggie needs.
“Sometimes I think about having you strip for me, like you did the week after our first Valentine’s Day.”
“You liked that?” Alex asks breathlessly.
“God yeah. So I think about having you strip for me, in that little slip you have, dancing on me and… mmmm… Al, do you mind if I um… Can I – “
She gestures with her hand toward her own hips, and Alex squeaks. “Yes,” she pleads as Maggie grins and brings her hand down to her own boxers. She sighs with relief and lets her head drop back into the pillow before turning her face back to Alex.
To watch Alex.
“And I think about how I wanna bend you over the couch – color?”
“Green, fuck, Mags.”
“Excellent. So uh… I wanna bend you over the couch… our couch… and I don’t want you to strip completely. I wanna fuck you while you’re still wearing that little slip, while that black thong you have is still on.”
Alex whines at the rasp in Maggie’s voice, her hips rising and falling onto her hands quicker now, quicker and harder.
“I wanna slip my fingers inside you from behind – god I love how wet you get for me – do you wanna do that now, babe, do you wanna fuck yourself for me?”
Alex lifts her hips and pushes aside her underwear in answer, moaning out a sigh of relief when she feels how soaked Maggie’s already made her.
“Tell me what to do?” she asks, and Maggie shudders through a sharp groan.
“Slip two fingers at once inside yourself, babe, just like you like me to do to you.”
Alex whines and Alex thrashes, and Maggie slips her fingers into the slit of her own boxers.
“Damn it, Danvers,” she rasps, and Alex grins somewhat cockily through her Maggie-induced haze.
“What should I do next, Maggie?” she begs, and Maggie practically growls.
“Put your palm on your clit, babe, and bring your ass up for me if you want. Cuz you know, this is me fucking you bent over the couch, right?”
Alex’s eyes squeeze shut as she swallows a scream and she does as she’s told.
“More?” she begs, and her hips are starting to thrash erratically.
“You wanna slip another finger in, show me how tight you are for, babygirl?” Maggie asks, and Alex cums, wrecked and unraveled and unrestrained, before she can even obey.
Maggie puts her hand on Alex’s back while Alex works herself through her orgasm, Maggie’s name on her breathless lips.
“You are so fucking gorgeous, Alex Danvers,” Maggie tells her, and god, does she mean it.
“I’m sorry,” Alex whispers as soon as she has enough breath, and Maggie’s brow furrows in the depths of her confusion.
“What – “
“I came too soon, you weren’t done with your story or with… with yourself. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Alex, no, no, babe, you never have to apologize for feeling pleasure, okay? That’s the point, that’s literally the point: you feeling good, okay? If that takes two minutes or three hours, if you wanna take all that time to cum once or to cum as many times as you can count, that’s okay. Everything you want is okay. And hot. Also hot. You’re very hot. Did I mention you’re hot? God, I sound like you.”
“Mmmm, are we gonna be that couple that starts talking like each other?”