Fic: Tweets (1/1) - Achele
Title: Tweets
Author: cranberry_pi
Rating: NC-17 for sexytimes.
Spoilers: Definitely not.
Summary: A drunken twitter session changes everything.
A/N: I know the whole drunken twitter/tumblr/whatever has been done a million times, I just felt like a (really short) kick at the can. Hope it's worthy!
Never. Drinking. Again. That’s all Dianna can think, turning over in her bed and feeling her stomach do a slow crawl up her esophagus. There’s a bucket next to her bed that looks fortunately unused, and her phone is blinking at her. With a careful shake of her head in an attempt to get both her eyes to focus on the same thing, she reaches out from under the covers - noticing that she’s still fully dressed - and grabs it, punching randomly at the buttons.
Wait - 74 missed calls? That can’t be right. Her mind is slowly coming to life, and she scrolls through the calls. All of these are from Lea. Why would she call me 74 times? She’s about to check her voicemail when the phone rings again, vibrating furiously against her palm. She’s less than surprised to see Lea’s smiling visage on the display, and she answers it with a wan smile of her own. Lea’s shriek prompts her to pull the phone away from her ear before the volume makes her head explode.
“Di, where the hell have you been? We need to deal with this, fuck, Ryan’s having a bird and the producers are crapping all over him, and the internet’s gone insane, what are we going to do?”
“Slow down, Lea. I’m hung over, and you’re not making any sense.”
That stops her cold. “You don’t know what I’m talking about?”
“I have no idea, sweetie - I just woke up, and I’m not very with it yet.”
“Check your Twitter, okay? And then call me right back.”
She rolls her eyes as Lea disconnects without saying goodbye, then winces as it causes a bolt of pain to shoot through her skull. When that’s passed, she opens her twitter app - and then promptly drops her phone in shock.
Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Fuck, shit, fuck, tell me I didn’t read that right.
She had. Her tweets from the night before read like an increasingly drunken game of truth or dare, where she chose truth every single time.
“@MsLeaMichele has really soft looking lips.”
“@MsLeaMichele looks really hot in that dress.”
“@MsLeaMichele needs to stop leaning over the table, because I can’t stop looking at her chest.”
“@MsLeaMichele looks insanely hot right now.”
“I wonder if @MsLeaMichele is as wet as I am right now.”
“Pondering just putting my head between @MsLeaMichele’s legs right now and going for it.”
“Wish I was going home with @MsLeaMichele, I really want to taste her.”
“Home without @MsLeaMichele. I’ll be picturing her in a few minutes, though, when I...”
Wow. I just ended my career, didn’t I? Just kill me now.
She dials Lea, and she answers on the first ring. “Did you read it?”
“Uh, yeah,” the tears in her eyes don’t help her headache or her nausea, but she can’t stop them. “Lea, I’m so sorry. I - I don’t even know what else I can say, except that I’m sorry. I’ll delete them, but we both know they’ve been saved by now.”
Her response is a surprise. “Did you mean it?”
“Did I mean what?”
“That you thought I was hot? That you were thinking of me when you-“
“Uh, yeah,” she admits hesitantly, feeling the blush burning her cheeks. “Sorry. I never meant for you to find out, especially not like that.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Well, I guess we’ll call Ryan, and I’ll beg him to just fire me, to leave you out of-“
“That’s very noble, but I wasn’t actually talking about our work. What are we going to do?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Can you go and open your front door?”
“Uh - is it okay if I clean up first? I’m kind of gross. Wait - why? Are you-“
“I’ve been sitting in the lobby of your building since six. Can you just come and open your door?”
Dianna stumbles out of bed, pausing to at least brush her teeth, and finds her way to the front door. She draws the deadbolt and removes the chain, pulling the door open - and Lea crashes into her like a speeding car, nearly bowling her over. In some corner of Dianna’s mind, she notes that Lea kicks the door closed behind her, but the majority of her brain is occupied with a different thought - Lea is kissing her. Hard.
Oh, my god.
“I’m,” Lea pants between kisses, her breath hot and sweet on Dianna’s face, “so glad you’re still wearing this dress.”
“Mmph,” Dianna grunts into Lea’s kiss. “Why?”
“Because,” she nips at Dianna’s neck, “all I could think about last night was getting you out of it.”
“What about-“
The nip is harder this time, and Dianna winces. “Di, do yourself a favour. Shut up and fuck me.”
I should - someone needs to - oh, fuck, she tastes like cotton candy, her hand is, oh, oh, oh...
Dianna lets Lea’s hand, which had been briefly occupied cupping her breast, reach behind her and unzip her dress, hissing sharply when some of her hair gets caught in the zip. And then it’s pooling around her feet, and Lea is staring at her with lust in her eyes, and she nearly comes undone on the spot. “No underwear?”
Dianna shakes her head, resisting the urge to cover herself.
“Were you wearing any last night?”
Another shake of her head.
“Awesome,” Lea breathes, taking her hand and leading her to her rumpled bed. She pushes her down onto it, and Dianna doesn’t resist. Lea strips out of her baggy sweats and releases the sloppy bun her hair had been tied into, climbing atop Dianna with a predatory grin. “Like what you see?”
Dianna nods wordlessly, knowing that her mouth is hanging open like a drooling fourteen year old boy, but physically unable to close it. Lea is there, in every inch of her glory, her pert breasts and her thatch of downy black hair and her perfect skin and her wavy hair, and she just can’t stop staring. Lea solves the problem by leaning down to kiss her. Dianna groans low in her throat as her nipples tighten painfully and the low throb in her abdomen becomes a rush of heat and wetness between her legs. Lea’s hand finds her breast again, her thumb brushing a hard peak, and she breaks the kiss to allow her head to fall back as she cries out. Lea just smiles wider and wriggles downward to take a nipple between her teeth.
Holy shit.
Dianna feels her back lift off the bed, and every synapse in her body seems to be firing all at once. She can feel Lea’s touch, but it’s like she’s risen out of her body to observe herself from above. She hears a voice begging, the words running together like a prayer, and realises belatedly that the voice is her own. Lea turns her attention to worshipping Dianna’s body, her hands roaming of their own accord across the peaks of her breasts, gripping her head as she kisses her again, then back down to her legs, her feet, trailing across her recently-shaven mound to gently spread her glistening lips.
Last chance, if you let her go any further it’s too late.
Fuck it.
“Please, Lea!” she begs. “Please!”
“Tell me what you think of,” Lea whispers huskily.
“What I think of?”
“When you’re touching yourself, Di. When you’re touching yourself and thinking of me, what am I doing?”
God, if this is a dream, don’t ever let me wake.
“You’re, oh, fuck, you’re inside me.”
“I need more detail than that. How am I inside you? Is it my fingers, my tongue?”
“Fingers!” Dianna cries, her throbbing sex begging for attention. “You look in my eyes, and you tell me that you love me, and you stick two fingers in me, and you fuck me until I beg you to stop, because I can’t take any more, please, Lea, please fuck me, I’m begging you - oh!” she screams as Lea enters her. It’s everything she fantasized about and more, feeling herself tighten around the fingers as they curl to touch exactly the right place in her, on the verge, on the brink - and then the fingers still.
“Di, look at me. Open your eyes and look at me.”
It takes a supreme effort, but she does. Lea smiles the sort of soft, genuine smile that the world didn’t get to see from her and, with a final hard thrust of her fingers, says “I love you,” loudly and clearly. Dianna howls Lea’s name as she comes, twisting and writhing in ecstasy as she rides an incredible climax, crying out again as those questing fingers are added to by another and they draw a second orgasm from her. She falls back onto the bed, gasping for breath, and watches with rapt attention as Lea puts her fingers in her mouth, licking them clean.
“Now,” she grins, “I think you should do what you wanted to do last night.”
Di smiles back, mustering her energy, and flips Lea over. She kisses her, softly, and trails kisses down her body until she’s come to rest between her legs.
Thank you, God.
She parts Lea’s lips gently with her tongue, tracing a languorous path up and down as her hand finds Lea’s hard bud and rolls it gently between her fingers. Lea bucks beneath her, crying her name, and she relishes the sweet taste of her, the scent of her, the sight of her sex as she probes deeper with her tongue. Lea’s thighs tighten around her head, blocking out the sound of her cries, leaving her free to focus on the sensations. She feels muscles spasming around her tongue, as if trying to pull it deeper inside, and she gives her clit a squeeze. She can only barely hear Lea scream, but the tightening of her legs tells her all she needs to know. She withdraws her tongue and replaces it with her fingers, latching onto her clit with her mouth, and when Lea comes again she can hear the scream - everyone for blocks around can, likely.
Lea is still trembling in post-orgasmic bliss when Dianna curls up beside her, kissing her and revelling in the taste of herself on the other woman’s lips. There’s a look between them - they both know there’s a conversation to be had now, but by wordless agreement it’s deferred as they hold each other close, drifting off to sleep on top of the blankets.
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After twenty-three hours of total PR silence, a hastily-organized press conference takes place at Fox. Ryan sits between Lea and Dianna, looking stern.
"So," he drones, "I want to be perfectly clear. The messages on Dianna's twitter account were the product of a hacker."
"But we have reliable information that they were submitted from her phone!" one of the reporters shouted.
Lea looks across at Dianna, holding a silent conversation behind Ryan's head. Dianna raises a questioning eyebrow, and Lea nods back at her in confirmation. As Ryan starts to answer another question, Dianna puts a hand on the table and interrupts him. "I'd like to say something," she says softly.
Ryan looks askance at her, but she looks past him at Lea, taking a deep breath before looking out at the throng of reporters. She opens her mouth, not entirely sure of what she's going to say.
"Yeah, those tweets were mine. And I meant every last one of them." She waits for the torrent of noise and questions to subside and grins. "Besides, tell me any one of you wouldn't be thinking the same thing if you spent the night with her."
Author: cranberry_pi
Rating: NC-17 for sexytimes.
Spoilers: Definitely not.
Summary: A drunken twitter session changes everything.
A/N: I know the whole drunken twitter/tumblr/whatever has been done a million times, I just felt like a (really short) kick at the can. Hope it's worthy!
Never. Drinking. Again. That’s all Dianna can think, turning over in her bed and feeling her stomach do a slow crawl up her esophagus. There’s a bucket next to her bed that looks fortunately unused, and her phone is blinking at her. With a careful shake of her head in an attempt to get both her eyes to focus on the same thing, she reaches out from under the covers - noticing that she’s still fully dressed - and grabs it, punching randomly at the buttons.
Wait - 74 missed calls? That can’t be right. Her mind is slowly coming to life, and she scrolls through the calls. All of these are from Lea. Why would she call me 74 times? She’s about to check her voicemail when the phone rings again, vibrating furiously against her palm. She’s less than surprised to see Lea’s smiling visage on the display, and she answers it with a wan smile of her own. Lea’s shriek prompts her to pull the phone away from her ear before the volume makes her head explode.
“Di, where the hell have you been? We need to deal with this, fuck, Ryan’s having a bird and the producers are crapping all over him, and the internet’s gone insane, what are we going to do?”
“Slow down, Lea. I’m hung over, and you’re not making any sense.”
That stops her cold. “You don’t know what I’m talking about?”
“I have no idea, sweetie - I just woke up, and I’m not very with it yet.”
“Check your Twitter, okay? And then call me right back.”
She rolls her eyes as Lea disconnects without saying goodbye, then winces as it causes a bolt of pain to shoot through her skull. When that’s passed, she opens her twitter app - and then promptly drops her phone in shock.
Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Fuck, shit, fuck, tell me I didn’t read that right.
She had. Her tweets from the night before read like an increasingly drunken game of truth or dare, where she chose truth every single time.
“@MsLeaMichele has really soft looking lips.”
“@MsLeaMichele looks really hot in that dress.”
“@MsLeaMichele needs to stop leaning over the table, because I can’t stop looking at her chest.”
“@MsLeaMichele looks insanely hot right now.”
“I wonder if @MsLeaMichele is as wet as I am right now.”
“Pondering just putting my head between @MsLeaMichele’s legs right now and going for it.”
“Wish I was going home with @MsLeaMichele, I really want to taste her.”
“Home without @MsLeaMichele. I’ll be picturing her in a few minutes, though, when I...”
Wow. I just ended my career, didn’t I? Just kill me now.
She dials Lea, and she answers on the first ring. “Did you read it?”
“Uh, yeah,” the tears in her eyes don’t help her headache or her nausea, but she can’t stop them. “Lea, I’m so sorry. I - I don’t even know what else I can say, except that I’m sorry. I’ll delete them, but we both know they’ve been saved by now.”
Her response is a surprise. “Did you mean it?”
“Did I mean what?”
“That you thought I was hot? That you were thinking of me when you-“
“Uh, yeah,” she admits hesitantly, feeling the blush burning her cheeks. “Sorry. I never meant for you to find out, especially not like that.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Well, I guess we’ll call Ryan, and I’ll beg him to just fire me, to leave you out of-“
“That’s very noble, but I wasn’t actually talking about our work. What are we going to do?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Can you go and open your front door?”
“Uh - is it okay if I clean up first? I’m kind of gross. Wait - why? Are you-“
“I’ve been sitting in the lobby of your building since six. Can you just come and open your door?”
Dianna stumbles out of bed, pausing to at least brush her teeth, and finds her way to the front door. She draws the deadbolt and removes the chain, pulling the door open - and Lea crashes into her like a speeding car, nearly bowling her over. In some corner of Dianna’s mind, she notes that Lea kicks the door closed behind her, but the majority of her brain is occupied with a different thought - Lea is kissing her. Hard.
Oh, my god.
“I’m,” Lea pants between kisses, her breath hot and sweet on Dianna’s face, “so glad you’re still wearing this dress.”
“Mmph,” Dianna grunts into Lea’s kiss. “Why?”
“Because,” she nips at Dianna’s neck, “all I could think about last night was getting you out of it.”
“What about-“
The nip is harder this time, and Dianna winces. “Di, do yourself a favour. Shut up and fuck me.”
I should - someone needs to - oh, fuck, she tastes like cotton candy, her hand is, oh, oh, oh...
Dianna lets Lea’s hand, which had been briefly occupied cupping her breast, reach behind her and unzip her dress, hissing sharply when some of her hair gets caught in the zip. And then it’s pooling around her feet, and Lea is staring at her with lust in her eyes, and she nearly comes undone on the spot. “No underwear?”
Dianna shakes her head, resisting the urge to cover herself.
“Were you wearing any last night?”
Another shake of her head.
“Awesome,” Lea breathes, taking her hand and leading her to her rumpled bed. She pushes her down onto it, and Dianna doesn’t resist. Lea strips out of her baggy sweats and releases the sloppy bun her hair had been tied into, climbing atop Dianna with a predatory grin. “Like what you see?”
Dianna nods wordlessly, knowing that her mouth is hanging open like a drooling fourteen year old boy, but physically unable to close it. Lea is there, in every inch of her glory, her pert breasts and her thatch of downy black hair and her perfect skin and her wavy hair, and she just can’t stop staring. Lea solves the problem by leaning down to kiss her. Dianna groans low in her throat as her nipples tighten painfully and the low throb in her abdomen becomes a rush of heat and wetness between her legs. Lea’s hand finds her breast again, her thumb brushing a hard peak, and she breaks the kiss to allow her head to fall back as she cries out. Lea just smiles wider and wriggles downward to take a nipple between her teeth.
Holy shit.
Dianna feels her back lift off the bed, and every synapse in her body seems to be firing all at once. She can feel Lea’s touch, but it’s like she’s risen out of her body to observe herself from above. She hears a voice begging, the words running together like a prayer, and realises belatedly that the voice is her own. Lea turns her attention to worshipping Dianna’s body, her hands roaming of their own accord across the peaks of her breasts, gripping her head as she kisses her again, then back down to her legs, her feet, trailing across her recently-shaven mound to gently spread her glistening lips.
Last chance, if you let her go any further it’s too late.
Fuck it.
“Please, Lea!” she begs. “Please!”
“Tell me what you think of,” Lea whispers huskily.
“What I think of?”
“When you’re touching yourself, Di. When you’re touching yourself and thinking of me, what am I doing?”
God, if this is a dream, don’t ever let me wake.
“You’re, oh, fuck, you’re inside me.”
“I need more detail than that. How am I inside you? Is it my fingers, my tongue?”
“Fingers!” Dianna cries, her throbbing sex begging for attention. “You look in my eyes, and you tell me that you love me, and you stick two fingers in me, and you fuck me until I beg you to stop, because I can’t take any more, please, Lea, please fuck me, I’m begging you - oh!” she screams as Lea enters her. It’s everything she fantasized about and more, feeling herself tighten around the fingers as they curl to touch exactly the right place in her, on the verge, on the brink - and then the fingers still.
“Di, look at me. Open your eyes and look at me.”
It takes a supreme effort, but she does. Lea smiles the sort of soft, genuine smile that the world didn’t get to see from her and, with a final hard thrust of her fingers, says “I love you,” loudly and clearly. Dianna howls Lea’s name as she comes, twisting and writhing in ecstasy as she rides an incredible climax, crying out again as those questing fingers are added to by another and they draw a second orgasm from her. She falls back onto the bed, gasping for breath, and watches with rapt attention as Lea puts her fingers in her mouth, licking them clean.
“Now,” she grins, “I think you should do what you wanted to do last night.”
Di smiles back, mustering her energy, and flips Lea over. She kisses her, softly, and trails kisses down her body until she’s come to rest between her legs.
Thank you, God.
She parts Lea’s lips gently with her tongue, tracing a languorous path up and down as her hand finds Lea’s hard bud and rolls it gently between her fingers. Lea bucks beneath her, crying her name, and she relishes the sweet taste of her, the scent of her, the sight of her sex as she probes deeper with her tongue. Lea’s thighs tighten around her head, blocking out the sound of her cries, leaving her free to focus on the sensations. She feels muscles spasming around her tongue, as if trying to pull it deeper inside, and she gives her clit a squeeze. She can only barely hear Lea scream, but the tightening of her legs tells her all she needs to know. She withdraws her tongue and replaces it with her fingers, latching onto her clit with her mouth, and when Lea comes again she can hear the scream - everyone for blocks around can, likely.
Lea is still trembling in post-orgasmic bliss when Dianna curls up beside her, kissing her and revelling in the taste of herself on the other woman’s lips. There’s a look between them - they both know there’s a conversation to be had now, but by wordless agreement it’s deferred as they hold each other close, drifting off to sleep on top of the blankets.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After twenty-three hours of total PR silence, a hastily-organized press conference takes place at Fox. Ryan sits between Lea and Dianna, looking stern.
"So," he drones, "I want to be perfectly clear. The messages on Dianna's twitter account were the product of a hacker."
"But we have reliable information that they were submitted from her phone!" one of the reporters shouted.
Lea looks across at Dianna, holding a silent conversation behind Ryan's head. Dianna raises a questioning eyebrow, and Lea nods back at her in confirmation. As Ryan starts to answer another question, Dianna puts a hand on the table and interrupts him. "I'd like to say something," she says softly.
Ryan looks askance at her, but she looks past him at Lea, taking a deep breath before looking out at the throng of reporters. She opens her mouth, not entirely sure of what she's going to say.
"Yeah, those tweets were mine. And I meant every last one of them." She waits for the torrent of noise and questions to subside and grins. "Besides, tell me any one of you wouldn't be thinking the same thing if you spent the night with her."