Cobra Starship/The Academy Is... - "Wrap You 'Round The World", Gabe/William
Wrap You 'Round The World
Bandom - Cobra Starship/The Academy Is...
girl!Gabe Saporta/girl!William Beckett, R, 1203 words.
Warning for GENDERSWAPPY RPS LESBIAN PORNO.
Written for the motherfucking PORN BATTLE, for the prompt girl!Gabe Saporta/girl!William Beckett, legs, easy, which was, ahahaha, mine. /o\ Completely unbeta'd and written in a serious hurry. My Spanish is terrible. Title from "The Ballad of Big Poppa and Diamond Girl" by Cobra Starship, which is slowly but surely becoming a theme when I write this pairing. That's probably not good.
"You've ruined me," Billie moans dramatically, oozing onto the couch and draping herself over Gabby's shoulders. "I used to be a good girl before I met you."
"Such a liar, Billie Beckett," Gabby says fondly, immediately reaching over to tangle Billie's hair.
"It's true," Billie insists. The singlemindedness of a buzzed Wilhemina Beckett is impervious even to distractions like Gabby's hand petting her head, but she does nuzzle happily against Gabby's shoulder. "I'm absolutely ruined for marriage. You'll have to take responsibility."
To be perfectly honest, Gabby would most certainly not mind taking responsibility for the vocalist currently half-curled around her. Billie is all pliant warmth and long limbs, slender and flexible, and she clings like a fucking octopus when she's drunk. Gabby seriously considers just pouncing and ravishing her right here, and then she remembers that the bandmate with the video camera and the NYU film classes is the one sitting right next to her.
She slings an arm around said bandmate instead. "Vicky-Teee," Gabby croons, breathing hot on Victoria's neck to see if she'll shiver. She never does. "Vicky, Vicky, Vicky-T."
"You are so drunk," Victoria says.
"I am so pimp," Gabby corrects smugly. She is, after all, the one sprawled out on the couch with a hot babe on either side, not Victoria. It's like the motherfucking City Is At War video all over again, except they're not all wearing white and Pete Wentz isn't a policeman.
Victoria shakes her head, but she's smiling.
Billie tugs at the sleeves of Gabby's hoodie, pulling them both to their feet and away from the couch. She rests her chin on Gabby's shoulder. "This party is boring now," she declares. "We should go back to your apartment. And then we should have sex."
"You think so?"
"Mm-hm." Billie nods. Her hair brushes softly against Gabby's cheek. "Lots of sex."
"Sounds like a plan," Gabby agrees, and lets Billie lead her to the door of Alexa and Ryland's place, down the stairs, and out onto the street to catch a cab. She texts Ryland (Eloping w/ billvy dont look for us) and gets a response almost immediately (Suarez says you're a sneaky minx and you're off the guest list for our wedding). She texts back Suarez doesnt say minx that was all you.
Billie manages (more or less) to keep her hands to herself while they're in the cab, but the moment they step into the apartment, she's all over Gabby again, kissing her hot and wet and dirty until Gabby can't stop her hips from rolling against Billie's thigh. Billie finally pulls away, breathing hard, her lips already swelling. "Bedroom," she says, "bedroom right now, Gabanti," and she doesn't wait for Gabby's response before she saunters away, only swaying a little and stripping off her shirt as she walks.
By the time Gabby reaches the bedroom, Billie's already completely naked, sprawled out on Gabby's unmade bed, lazily stroking those long, gorgeous fingers across her breasts and hitting Gabby with what Sisky and Butcher refer to as "the trademark Beckett brand extra-strength fuck-me eyes". Gabby's breath catches in her throat. Not for the first time, she is reminded that Billie Beckett is seriously all leg. You can't look at her and not picture her with those things wrapped around someone's hips.
"Are you just going to stand there all night?" Billie asks. Her fingers move from breast to stomach to hipbone, slow and teasing.
"You're so easy when you're drunk," Gabby murmurs, nudging those fucking legs apart and settling herself on the bed between them.
"I'm not drunk," Billie insists, and gasps softly as Gabby runs a hand down her side. "And I'm not easy. Why does everyone always say that."
Gabby kisses her jaw. "Because you're always drunk, so you're always easy."
"Says you." Billie rolls her eyes. "You and Carden, and you're both extremely wrong."
"Mike Carden knows what she's talking about," Gabby says, between little sucking kisses, nipping at the pale skin of Billie's throat. "And so do I."
"Please stop using words," Billie demands, clutching at the fabric of Gabby's shirt, "stop using words and stop wearing clothes, fuck."
Gabby can't really argue with that. She shimmies out of her jeans and panties and lets Billie tug her shirt off (and winces a little when it goes flying and nearly knocks over a lamp). "Happy now?"
"No," Billie says, matter-of-fact and petulant. "Touch me."
Gabby snorts. "No fucking way. I know you, Beckett, you're totally useless after you come. We're doing this my way." She slides up the the length of Billie's torso, plants her knees and straddles Billie's face, feels her nosing at the already damp curls between Gabby's legs. "Think you can handle that, princesa?"
Billie lets out a happy little affirmative hum against Gabby's cunt and flicks her tongue out to taste, and it's all Gabby can do to keep her knees from buckling. It's been a while since the last time they toured together, and fuck, she'd forgotten just how talented that tongue actually is.
"Fuck," she says, startled, and feels Billie's lips curve in a smug grin. "Do that again."
Billie does, lapping eagerly at Gabby's clit and drawing out a sharp moan. One hand moves up to grip Gabby's hip tight, and Gabby suddenly feels the other nudging her up, creeping under, and then two fingers slide into her without any warning, making her hips jerk, and then oh, fuck, she's riding Billie's face, and it's fucking incredible.
"Fuck, fuck, don't stop now, querida, just like that." She can't stop babbling. It's been too long, she thinks, and now she's rediscovering the effect Billie has on her. "There, stay right there."
It's embarrassing how quickly she comes, Billie's fingers pumping inside her, Billie's tongue tracing her slit, Billie's hand keeping her hips steady, and Gabby collapses onto the bed beside her, breathless and shaky and grinning.
"Now who's the easy one?" Billie raises one eyebrow, but the sardonic effect she was probably going for is kind of ruined, because she is still totally drunk, and also has a face covered in girljuice. Gabby licks her cheek, and she giggles.
"Still you," Gabby throws back, already moving back to the foot of the bed and spreading Billie's legs to return the favor. "Want me to show you, or are you still too wasted?"
"Gabriela," Billie whines, and Gabby laughs, curling her tongue against Billie's clit and startling a little moan out of her.
Apparently, Gabby's forgotten just how loud Billie can get, too. She's writhing and making these little gasping sobs, communicating in desperate moans and fragments of aborted sentences, and by the time Gabby's got two fingers inside her and a thumb steady on her clit, she's not quite screaming, but it's pretty fucking close.
"Come on, corazón," Gabby breathes, hot against Billie's stomach, twisting her wrist and hitting that spot again. "Ven por mí."
Billie does as she's told, arching and shuddering and crying out, spasming around Gabby's fingers as she loses it.
They just lie there for a few minutes in a puddle of sweat and limbs and affection, and then Gabby says, "I told you," because she's always right about shit like this.
Billie shoves at her. "Bitch," she says haughtily, but Gabby takes one look at her languid, boneless posture, and the way she can't fight her stupid post-orgasmic blissed-out smile, and knows it's all good.
Bandom - Cobra Starship/The Academy Is...
girl!Gabe Saporta/girl!William Beckett, R, 1203 words.
Warning for GENDERSWAPPY RPS LESBIAN PORNO.
Written for the motherfucking PORN BATTLE, for the prompt girl!Gabe Saporta/girl!William Beckett, legs, easy, which was, ahahaha, mine. /o\ Completely unbeta'd and written in a serious hurry. My Spanish is terrible. Title from "The Ballad of Big Poppa and Diamond Girl" by Cobra Starship, which is slowly but surely becoming a theme when I write this pairing. That's probably not good.
"You've ruined me," Billie moans dramatically, oozing onto the couch and draping herself over Gabby's shoulders. "I used to be a good girl before I met you."
"Such a liar, Billie Beckett," Gabby says fondly, immediately reaching over to tangle Billie's hair.
"It's true," Billie insists. The singlemindedness of a buzzed Wilhemina Beckett is impervious even to distractions like Gabby's hand petting her head, but she does nuzzle happily against Gabby's shoulder. "I'm absolutely ruined for marriage. You'll have to take responsibility."
To be perfectly honest, Gabby would most certainly not mind taking responsibility for the vocalist currently half-curled around her. Billie is all pliant warmth and long limbs, slender and flexible, and she clings like a fucking octopus when she's drunk. Gabby seriously considers just pouncing and ravishing her right here, and then she remembers that the bandmate with the video camera and the NYU film classes is the one sitting right next to her.
She slings an arm around said bandmate instead. "Vicky-Teee," Gabby croons, breathing hot on Victoria's neck to see if she'll shiver. She never does. "Vicky, Vicky, Vicky-T."
"You are so drunk," Victoria says.
"I am so pimp," Gabby corrects smugly. She is, after all, the one sprawled out on the couch with a hot babe on either side, not Victoria. It's like the motherfucking City Is At War video all over again, except they're not all wearing white and Pete Wentz isn't a policeman.
Victoria shakes her head, but she's smiling.
Billie tugs at the sleeves of Gabby's hoodie, pulling them both to their feet and away from the couch. She rests her chin on Gabby's shoulder. "This party is boring now," she declares. "We should go back to your apartment. And then we should have sex."
"You think so?"
"Mm-hm." Billie nods. Her hair brushes softly against Gabby's cheek. "Lots of sex."
"Sounds like a plan," Gabby agrees, and lets Billie lead her to the door of Alexa and Ryland's place, down the stairs, and out onto the street to catch a cab. She texts Ryland (Eloping w/ billvy dont look for us) and gets a response almost immediately (Suarez says you're a sneaky minx and you're off the guest list for our wedding). She texts back Suarez doesnt say minx that was all you.
Billie manages (more or less) to keep her hands to herself while they're in the cab, but the moment they step into the apartment, she's all over Gabby again, kissing her hot and wet and dirty until Gabby can't stop her hips from rolling against Billie's thigh. Billie finally pulls away, breathing hard, her lips already swelling. "Bedroom," she says, "bedroom right now, Gabanti," and she doesn't wait for Gabby's response before she saunters away, only swaying a little and stripping off her shirt as she walks.
By the time Gabby reaches the bedroom, Billie's already completely naked, sprawled out on Gabby's unmade bed, lazily stroking those long, gorgeous fingers across her breasts and hitting Gabby with what Sisky and Butcher refer to as "the trademark Beckett brand extra-strength fuck-me eyes". Gabby's breath catches in her throat. Not for the first time, she is reminded that Billie Beckett is seriously all leg. You can't look at her and not picture her with those things wrapped around someone's hips.
"Are you just going to stand there all night?" Billie asks. Her fingers move from breast to stomach to hipbone, slow and teasing.
"You're so easy when you're drunk," Gabby murmurs, nudging those fucking legs apart and settling herself on the bed between them.
"I'm not drunk," Billie insists, and gasps softly as Gabby runs a hand down her side. "And I'm not easy. Why does everyone always say that."
Gabby kisses her jaw. "Because you're always drunk, so you're always easy."
"Says you." Billie rolls her eyes. "You and Carden, and you're both extremely wrong."
"Mike Carden knows what she's talking about," Gabby says, between little sucking kisses, nipping at the pale skin of Billie's throat. "And so do I."
"Please stop using words," Billie demands, clutching at the fabric of Gabby's shirt, "stop using words and stop wearing clothes, fuck."
Gabby can't really argue with that. She shimmies out of her jeans and panties and lets Billie tug her shirt off (and winces a little when it goes flying and nearly knocks over a lamp). "Happy now?"
"No," Billie says, matter-of-fact and petulant. "Touch me."
Gabby snorts. "No fucking way. I know you, Beckett, you're totally useless after you come. We're doing this my way." She slides up the the length of Billie's torso, plants her knees and straddles Billie's face, feels her nosing at the already damp curls between Gabby's legs. "Think you can handle that, princesa?"
Billie lets out a happy little affirmative hum against Gabby's cunt and flicks her tongue out to taste, and it's all Gabby can do to keep her knees from buckling. It's been a while since the last time they toured together, and fuck, she'd forgotten just how talented that tongue actually is.
"Fuck," she says, startled, and feels Billie's lips curve in a smug grin. "Do that again."
Billie does, lapping eagerly at Gabby's clit and drawing out a sharp moan. One hand moves up to grip Gabby's hip tight, and Gabby suddenly feels the other nudging her up, creeping under, and then two fingers slide into her without any warning, making her hips jerk, and then oh, fuck, she's riding Billie's face, and it's fucking incredible.
"Fuck, fuck, don't stop now, querida, just like that." She can't stop babbling. It's been too long, she thinks, and now she's rediscovering the effect Billie has on her. "There, stay right there."
It's embarrassing how quickly she comes, Billie's fingers pumping inside her, Billie's tongue tracing her slit, Billie's hand keeping her hips steady, and Gabby collapses onto the bed beside her, breathless and shaky and grinning.
"Now who's the easy one?" Billie raises one eyebrow, but the sardonic effect she was probably going for is kind of ruined, because she is still totally drunk, and also has a face covered in girljuice. Gabby licks her cheek, and she giggles.
"Still you," Gabby throws back, already moving back to the foot of the bed and spreading Billie's legs to return the favor. "Want me to show you, or are you still too wasted?"
"Gabriela," Billie whines, and Gabby laughs, curling her tongue against Billie's clit and startling a little moan out of her.
Apparently, Gabby's forgotten just how loud Billie can get, too. She's writhing and making these little gasping sobs, communicating in desperate moans and fragments of aborted sentences, and by the time Gabby's got two fingers inside her and a thumb steady on her clit, she's not quite screaming, but it's pretty fucking close.
"Come on, corazón," Gabby breathes, hot against Billie's stomach, twisting her wrist and hitting that spot again. "Ven por mí."
Billie does as she's told, arching and shuddering and crying out, spasming around Gabby's fingers as she loses it.
They just lie there for a few minutes in a puddle of sweat and limbs and affection, and then Gabby says, "I told you," because she's always right about shit like this.
Billie shoves at her. "Bitch," she says haughtily, but Gabby takes one look at her languid, boneless posture, and the way she can't fight her stupid post-orgasmic blissed-out smile, and knows it's all good.