storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2013-01-30 07:45 pm
storypaint) wrote2013-01-30 07:45 pm
[Community] be to her faults a little blind (Annie/Britta)
Title: be to her faults a little blind
Fandom: Community
Length: 888 words
Prompt: femslash_kink: Community: Annie/Britta, striptease
Pairing: Annie/Britta
Other: PG-13 for sexual content. Annie has never had a girlfriend before, so she does what she's good at: she researches. Sometime after the third or fourth terrible porn video, she stumbles onto tumblr, and things are a lot smoother from there. (Although she stays up reblogging important social justice discussions until four a.m.)
Annie has never had a girlfriend before, so she does what she's good at: she researches. Sometime after the third or fourth terrible porn video, she stumbles onto tumblr, and things are a lot smoother from there.
(Although she stays up reblogging important social justice discussions until four a.m.)
She still feels awkward when Britta invites her up to her apartment after their date has ended. Her heart is thumping in her chest and she's not sure if it's awkwardness, uncertainty, or the thrill of secrecy. They knew that keeping secrets from the study group was a terrible idea, but Britta thinks that if they came out as lesbians, Pierce might actually have a heart attack, and Annie can't stand that on her conscience. Anyway, she'll invite them to the wedding. Assuming that one occurs. Just because she's now part of the fight for marriage equality, doesn't mean that marriage is for everyone. Although Britta's a great planner--
She's really nervous. Annie sits on the edge of the couch and dusts off her knee, and this might have been their first and very last date if Britta hadn't decided to seize the day. And Annie's breast.
Twenty minutes later they've made their way to Britta's bedroom, which is full of books stacked in haphazard piles and vests that Britta really needs to wash. And maybe Britta's been watching those same horrible movies Annie saw, because she sits down on the bed, smiles really widely, and says, "Strip for me."
No one would ever say that Annie refused to try something -- that is absolutely not true, and Annie can't lie to herself about that. But the fact of the matter is, she's never stripped for anyone before. Usually the guys she dates are happy to get some over-the-bra action on a first date. It's just that she's known Britta so long. She trusts that Britta won't make her use her rape whistle.
So she sways a little and starts to unbutton her cardigan. Britta snorts, rolls over, and almost falls off the bed. Annie thinks that Britta might have drank a little too much with dinner.
"You're so stiff! It's like watching Librarian Barbie undress," she says. "Here, here, here. Let me show you."
She offers a half grin and gets to her feet to start stripping for Annie. First she does leg lifts to remove her shoes, and then she starts to pull her shirt over her head, all the while undulating her hips in what Annie thinks is a rather alarming fashion. She wants to laugh, but she bites her lip and is silent.
Britta can't unfasten her own bra while moving like that, and they're at a momentary, embarrassing crossroads until Annie reaches over and undoes the fasteners for her, running the palms of her hands flatly across the warm lines that the bra leaves on Britta's back. Britta sighs a little and relaxes into Annie's grasp as Annie's hands then skim down to Britta's hips and still them.
Then she laughs.
"What?" Britta says, looking back over her shoulder, suddenly alarmed by this turn of events. "I know I don't have boobs in your category, whatever, but I didn't think they were that bad."
"I like them!" Annie says immediately, and she does. She's been sneaking glances at them for weeks. Britta tends to frame them very nicely, in contrast to her bony shoulders (which Annie also likes; she's a little scared of how much she likes Britta, and how good they both are at screwing everything up -- like they are screwing up having sex right now, apparently).
"I'm laughing," Annie says, trying to figure out how to say this, fingers tracing themselves along Britta's hips, just underneath her blue jeans, "because we suck at striptease."
"I do not suck!" Britta answers, wounded, but she doesn't pursue the matter because Annie is unfastening her blue jeans from the back, and that involves pressing her whole torso against Britta's from behind.
So Britta kicks off her blue jeans in a hurry, ungracefully, and nothing more is said of the matter, because Annie has a list of lesbian sex acts to try in her cardigan pocket, and when she offers them to Britta, Britta becomes quickly determined to try every single one of them tonight.
In practice, they bomb out after the second orgasm -- one for Annie, Britta's lips on her clit, Britta's finger curling a perpetual come-hither, and eventually Annie's short gasps lead her to that place; and one for Britta, because of equality, which is primarily accomplished with the gigantic blue vibrator Britta keeps in her bedside table, and some other less orthodox things that Annie blushes to think about. They sleep after that, pressed together in Britta's small bed, and Annie's arm is asleep when she wakes up in the morning, because Britta's sleeping on it.
It is the best date she's ever had, even if there are a few things on the list that Annie's found to be highly overrated, and Britta's breath smells terrible in the morning. Nothing's perfect. It doesn't have to be. Annie's learning to live with that.
She rescues her arm and turns over, going back to sleep as the sun begins to rise, striping the white walls into butter. And she is happy.
Fandom: Community
Length: 888 words
Prompt: femslash_kink: Community: Annie/Britta, striptease
Pairing: Annie/Britta
Other: PG-13 for sexual content. Annie has never had a girlfriend before, so she does what she's good at: she researches. Sometime after the third or fourth terrible porn video, she stumbles onto tumblr, and things are a lot smoother from there. (Although she stays up reblogging important social justice discussions until four a.m.)
Annie has never had a girlfriend before, so she does what she's good at: she researches. Sometime after the third or fourth terrible porn video, she stumbles onto tumblr, and things are a lot smoother from there.
(Although she stays up reblogging important social justice discussions until four a.m.)
She still feels awkward when Britta invites her up to her apartment after their date has ended. Her heart is thumping in her chest and she's not sure if it's awkwardness, uncertainty, or the thrill of secrecy. They knew that keeping secrets from the study group was a terrible idea, but Britta thinks that if they came out as lesbians, Pierce might actually have a heart attack, and Annie can't stand that on her conscience. Anyway, she'll invite them to the wedding. Assuming that one occurs. Just because she's now part of the fight for marriage equality, doesn't mean that marriage is for everyone. Although Britta's a great planner--
She's really nervous. Annie sits on the edge of the couch and dusts off her knee, and this might have been their first and very last date if Britta hadn't decided to seize the day. And Annie's breast.
Twenty minutes later they've made their way to Britta's bedroom, which is full of books stacked in haphazard piles and vests that Britta really needs to wash. And maybe Britta's been watching those same horrible movies Annie saw, because she sits down on the bed, smiles really widely, and says, "Strip for me."
No one would ever say that Annie refused to try something -- that is absolutely not true, and Annie can't lie to herself about that. But the fact of the matter is, she's never stripped for anyone before. Usually the guys she dates are happy to get some over-the-bra action on a first date. It's just that she's known Britta so long. She trusts that Britta won't make her use her rape whistle.
So she sways a little and starts to unbutton her cardigan. Britta snorts, rolls over, and almost falls off the bed. Annie thinks that Britta might have drank a little too much with dinner.
"You're so stiff! It's like watching Librarian Barbie undress," she says. "Here, here, here. Let me show you."
She offers a half grin and gets to her feet to start stripping for Annie. First she does leg lifts to remove her shoes, and then she starts to pull her shirt over her head, all the while undulating her hips in what Annie thinks is a rather alarming fashion. She wants to laugh, but she bites her lip and is silent.
Britta can't unfasten her own bra while moving like that, and they're at a momentary, embarrassing crossroads until Annie reaches over and undoes the fasteners for her, running the palms of her hands flatly across the warm lines that the bra leaves on Britta's back. Britta sighs a little and relaxes into Annie's grasp as Annie's hands then skim down to Britta's hips and still them.
Then she laughs.
"What?" Britta says, looking back over her shoulder, suddenly alarmed by this turn of events. "I know I don't have boobs in your category, whatever, but I didn't think they were that bad."
"I like them!" Annie says immediately, and she does. She's been sneaking glances at them for weeks. Britta tends to frame them very nicely, in contrast to her bony shoulders (which Annie also likes; she's a little scared of how much she likes Britta, and how good they both are at screwing everything up -- like they are screwing up having sex right now, apparently).
"I'm laughing," Annie says, trying to figure out how to say this, fingers tracing themselves along Britta's hips, just underneath her blue jeans, "because we suck at striptease."
"I do not suck!" Britta answers, wounded, but she doesn't pursue the matter because Annie is unfastening her blue jeans from the back, and that involves pressing her whole torso against Britta's from behind.
So Britta kicks off her blue jeans in a hurry, ungracefully, and nothing more is said of the matter, because Annie has a list of lesbian sex acts to try in her cardigan pocket, and when she offers them to Britta, Britta becomes quickly determined to try every single one of them tonight.
In practice, they bomb out after the second orgasm -- one for Annie, Britta's lips on her clit, Britta's finger curling a perpetual come-hither, and eventually Annie's short gasps lead her to that place; and one for Britta, because of equality, which is primarily accomplished with the gigantic blue vibrator Britta keeps in her bedside table, and some other less orthodox things that Annie blushes to think about. They sleep after that, pressed together in Britta's small bed, and Annie's arm is asleep when she wakes up in the morning, because Britta's sleeping on it.
It is the best date she's ever had, even if there are a few things on the list that Annie's found to be highly overrated, and Britta's breath smells terrible in the morning. Nothing's perfect. It doesn't have to be. Annie's learning to live with that.
She rescues her arm and turns over, going back to sleep as the sun begins to rise, striping the white walls into butter. And she is happy.