fic: excursion (maggie/bianca)
Title: Excursion (R)
Pairing: Bianca/Maggie
Prompt: "boathouse" (for the porn battle)
Disclaimer: Not mine, making no profit
Notes: Um, random BAM ficlet. Cause I wanted to write it. Unbeta'd.
Teaser: “Splinter, Bianca, in my ass. That thing your hand is on.” (takes place in a vague series being written)
The joys of motherhood had brought restless nervousness and boundless energy, a furious nesting instinct that had yet to die off again. It had brought a sex drive Bianca hadn’t even gotten the chance to actually enjoy and it had somehow improved already impressive breasts- “I’m not taking my jeans off, Bianca, I'm going to get a splinter in my ass.”
Motherhood had also made Maggie even more straightforward.
“Maggie, please-”
“Splinter, Bianca, in my ass. That thing your hand is on.”
She shifted her weight in the dim light that reached them, tried really hard not to fall on top of the woman tucked between her thighs. “I’m trying to be romantic.” She really was trying. Trying to be supportive, trying to be helpful, to make the girls comfortable, to keep the house clean. She just… really wanted things to fit together. “You said before…” She let herself trail off, threaded fingers through dark hair that she had released from its awful-looking green elastic band. (She’d said “it’s ripping out your hair” a million times and each time Maggie glared like it was a challenge and looped another one into her hair.) “If you’d just relax…”
“Your hand is in my pants.” Maggie sounded remarkably annoyed. “And stop petting my head.” Bianca paused at the huff to the words, blinked at the face she could just barely make out in the shadows. Remembered how much Maggie had liked it when she played with her hair before. “I’m not your dog,” she heard, and her hand was swatted off. “We need to go back to the house-” House, not home, and Bianca didn’t think about it. “Your sister’s probably lost my daughter, Bianca, I am going to be daughter-less when we get back."
“Ryan and Kendall can handle a baby.”
“But they have the girls there, too. And Spike and Emma and Ian. They’re going to lose my daughter.” The wording was painful and Bianca didn’t let herself think on it. Things were going great. “I can’t focus anyway, we can go-” On impulse, oddly panicked, she yanked a bit too hard on Maggie’s blouse, heard an explosive swear when a button skittered across the wood floor. “I just brought this top-”
“I’ll buy you a new one,” she barked before she could stop herself, hating how her voice caught, and pushed Maggie down against the planks, palmed a breast through the stupid nursing bra. Felt a thrill at the startled moan she swallowed as her mouth crashed down on Maggie’s. Legs shifted, stiffened, and she rocked a little to ease her weight, scraped skin against an open zipper as she slid fingers back.
Wet, thank god, she was too fucking grateful for it, for the little whimper of pleasure she heard.
“I’m fat,” she heard when she drew back to allow a breath but grunted in disagreement, shook her head and kissed Maggie again, pulled away only when she had to. “I should fit my old clothes already, and I don’t-” Maggie ducked her head when Bianca tried to kiss her again, breathed too heavily as her body moved greedily but her head didn’t let it go. “I look like shit-”
This was what she had done to Maggie- but she’d fix it.
It would clearly take longer than she’d first thought it would but she’d fix it.
They had everything they needed to fix it.
“We’ll go home in a few minutes,” she mumbled into an open mouth and stroked hair from Maggie’s face, her neck, “and you can call them on the way back.” Maggie muttered, shaky and uneasy, and grabbed at her arm, squirmed like she wasn’t comfortable in her skin but moved eagerly. “You’re gorgeous-”
A mumbled reply, the tension in Maggie’s muscles changing as Bianca nipped the corner of her mouth, kept up the rhythm she’d finally found. Felt too much of a thrill when Maggie’s mumbling faded into small noises of satisfaction and her grip tightened, bruising in its possessiveness.
Bianca remembered it.
Savored the little groan of her name and held Maggie as she shook, panted quietly. Shifted and stilled.
Less than she wanted but enough for right now. She could survive on this for now.
But the lull only lasted for maybe half a minute, lasted until Maggie was pushing her away and twisting off the floor, graceless in her nervousness. She struggled with her jeans, fiddled with her blouse until she gave up. Had her jacket half-on before Bianca was on her feet, frowning as she checked her skirt and then stopped. Rubbed her bare knee and felt a spark of pain.
Shit.
“It's nothing,” she muttered when she noticed Maggie’s helplessly worried look, and then flushed hotly at the flash of teeth in the dim light, the amused shift of her lover’s shoulders in the dark. “Nothing.”
“You've got a splinter. No, don’t lie, I know.” Bianca glared halfheartedly, embarrassed, but couldn’t hate the grin on Maggie’s face. “I’ll help you dig it out when we get home,” Maggie promised, voice suddenly as light as it had been heavy minutes before, and slipped down the stairs, unaware of what she’d just said as she dug out her phone.
It was fine.
They were fixing it.
Pairing: Bianca/Maggie
Prompt: "boathouse" (for the porn battle)
Disclaimer: Not mine, making no profit
Notes: Um, random BAM ficlet. Cause I wanted to write it. Unbeta'd.
Teaser: “Splinter, Bianca, in my ass. That thing your hand is on.” (takes place in a vague series being written)
The joys of motherhood had brought restless nervousness and boundless energy, a furious nesting instinct that had yet to die off again. It had brought a sex drive Bianca hadn’t even gotten the chance to actually enjoy and it had somehow improved already impressive breasts- “I’m not taking my jeans off, Bianca, I'm going to get a splinter in my ass.”
Motherhood had also made Maggie even more straightforward.
“Maggie, please-”
“Splinter, Bianca, in my ass. That thing your hand is on.”
She shifted her weight in the dim light that reached them, tried really hard not to fall on top of the woman tucked between her thighs. “I’m trying to be romantic.” She really was trying. Trying to be supportive, trying to be helpful, to make the girls comfortable, to keep the house clean. She just… really wanted things to fit together. “You said before…” She let herself trail off, threaded fingers through dark hair that she had released from its awful-looking green elastic band. (She’d said “it’s ripping out your hair” a million times and each time Maggie glared like it was a challenge and looped another one into her hair.) “If you’d just relax…”
“Your hand is in my pants.” Maggie sounded remarkably annoyed. “And stop petting my head.” Bianca paused at the huff to the words, blinked at the face she could just barely make out in the shadows. Remembered how much Maggie had liked it when she played with her hair before. “I’m not your dog,” she heard, and her hand was swatted off. “We need to go back to the house-” House, not home, and Bianca didn’t think about it. “Your sister’s probably lost my daughter, Bianca, I am going to be daughter-less when we get back."
“Ryan and Kendall can handle a baby.”
“But they have the girls there, too. And Spike and Emma and Ian. They’re going to lose my daughter.” The wording was painful and Bianca didn’t let herself think on it. Things were going great. “I can’t focus anyway, we can go-” On impulse, oddly panicked, she yanked a bit too hard on Maggie’s blouse, heard an explosive swear when a button skittered across the wood floor. “I just brought this top-”
“I’ll buy you a new one,” she barked before she could stop herself, hating how her voice caught, and pushed Maggie down against the planks, palmed a breast through the stupid nursing bra. Felt a thrill at the startled moan she swallowed as her mouth crashed down on Maggie’s. Legs shifted, stiffened, and she rocked a little to ease her weight, scraped skin against an open zipper as she slid fingers back.
Wet, thank god, she was too fucking grateful for it, for the little whimper of pleasure she heard.
“I’m fat,” she heard when she drew back to allow a breath but grunted in disagreement, shook her head and kissed Maggie again, pulled away only when she had to. “I should fit my old clothes already, and I don’t-” Maggie ducked her head when Bianca tried to kiss her again, breathed too heavily as her body moved greedily but her head didn’t let it go. “I look like shit-”
This was what she had done to Maggie- but she’d fix it.
It would clearly take longer than she’d first thought it would but she’d fix it.
They had everything they needed to fix it.
“We’ll go home in a few minutes,” she mumbled into an open mouth and stroked hair from Maggie’s face, her neck, “and you can call them on the way back.” Maggie muttered, shaky and uneasy, and grabbed at her arm, squirmed like she wasn’t comfortable in her skin but moved eagerly. “You’re gorgeous-”
A mumbled reply, the tension in Maggie’s muscles changing as Bianca nipped the corner of her mouth, kept up the rhythm she’d finally found. Felt too much of a thrill when Maggie’s mumbling faded into small noises of satisfaction and her grip tightened, bruising in its possessiveness.
Bianca remembered it.
Savored the little groan of her name and held Maggie as she shook, panted quietly. Shifted and stilled.
Less than she wanted but enough for right now. She could survive on this for now.
But the lull only lasted for maybe half a minute, lasted until Maggie was pushing her away and twisting off the floor, graceless in her nervousness. She struggled with her jeans, fiddled with her blouse until she gave up. Had her jacket half-on before Bianca was on her feet, frowning as she checked her skirt and then stopped. Rubbed her bare knee and felt a spark of pain.
Shit.
“It's nothing,” she muttered when she noticed Maggie’s helplessly worried look, and then flushed hotly at the flash of teeth in the dim light, the amused shift of her lover’s shoulders in the dark. “Nothing.”
“You've got a splinter. No, don’t lie, I know.” Bianca glared halfheartedly, embarrassed, but couldn’t hate the grin on Maggie’s face. “I’ll help you dig it out when we get home,” Maggie promised, voice suddenly as light as it had been heavy minutes before, and slipped down the stairs, unaware of what she’d just said as she dug out her phone.
It was fine.
They were fixing it.