Fic: In The Shadows
Title: In The Shadows
Characters: Naomi/Emily (implied Katie/Cook as a bonus background)
Rating: NC-17
Words: ~1,600
Summary: This is basically PWP, idk, Naomi and Emily are a little bit drunk.
Disclaimer: Not my characters
A/N: Um, I don't really know why I wrote this, mainly because I was told that I wouldn't do it and I'm stubborn like that? Whatever, either way I wrote it, and you know, you can celebrate the end of all the bank holidays with some porn, if you happen to be someone who celebrates with porn. Otherwise, you can just read it. This was gay-proofed by crackfoxx , so any technical issues should be directed her way.
There’s something about Naomi being drunk.
Maybe it’s to do with how passionate she gets, how she believes that she is absolutely correct about everything and anything that she cares to have an opinion on. Maybe it’s how her eyes light up whenever they settle on Emily, how she doesn’t hide behind a scowl anymore.
Or maybe it’s just that, often nowadays, whenever Naomi’s drunk, there’s a high chance that Emily is as well, and she can’t help it if she gets horny when she’s drunk.
The dancing doesn’t help either. Close, but not close enough. Never close enough. Naomi’s hand settles lightly on her hip, possessive, and Emily can’t help but love it, that Naomi’s laying claim to what is hers. Because it’s true after all. Whichever way you look at it, Emily is Naomi’s, completely and utterly hers. And Naomi is hers. It’s that simple.
Emily reaches up and tangles her fingers in the hair just at the nape of Naomi’s neck. It elicits a lazy smile and Naomi dips her head, lets her lips brush against Emily’s, just once.
“Fucking tease,” Emily mutters, and Naomi just cocks an eyebrow, all oh sorry, were you expecting something else? and Emily remembers why she also sometimes hates Naomi when she’s drunk. A gentle tug on Naomi’s hair brings the score back to one all, and it’s Emily’s turn to smirk.
They could stay there all night, playing this game back and forth, but the reality is that Emily knows that Naomi is far too stubborn to give in and Emily doesn’t want to give her the pleasure of thinking she’s won. Instead, Emily mimes fag with her free hand, and Naomi nods.
Outside, Naomi seems somehow drunker, throwing an arm around Emily’s shoulders just to stay upright. Emily pokes her in the side and laughs at the look of confusion written all over Naomi’s face.
“What was that for?”
Emily threads her fingers through Naomi’s. “Come on missy. We should get you home.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re a drunken lout. And, you know, other stuff.”
Naomi stops dead. “Other stuff?” She asks, as if not entirely sure that her and Emily are on the same page.
Emily hums in agreement, and then laughs again, as Naomi finally catches on and starts leading them homewards, determined look on her face. Two wobbly steps later, however, Naomi’s stopped again.
“Wait. What about Katie?”
Emily can’t quite believe it. Her girlfriend, her girlfriend who regularly reminds her that she can’t stand her sister, is now checking on her welfare? “Naomi. We start talking about other stuff and now is when you want to be considerate towards my sister?”
“No, I just- but I thought you wanted…”
“Did you see Katie in there?”
“No,” Naomi admits, and then blushes. “I was a little bit, you know. Distracted.” She lets her gaze land on Emily’s chest. “New top? I don’t think I’ve seen it before. It’s, um, nice.”
And it is, admittedly, quite a low cut top - she’s got Katie to thank for it after all - and there was a reason Emily had picked it tonight, so she can’t really be annoyed that it’s worked. But Naomi doesn’t seem to realise how close she is to being able to take it off and now it’s maybe getting in the way of things. “I’ve had this top for a year, Nae. You’ve seen it lots. Or you would have, if you’d actually, you know, stop staring at my tits.”
“Huh,” Naomi replies, her eyes not moving once.
“Anyway,” Emily continues, pushing Naomi’s chin up with a finger so she’s forced to look at Emily’s face. “Katie will be fine. Cook is making sure of that as we speak.”
“Oh.” Naomi says dumbly, clearly before piecing together what that means. “Oh,” she says again, and grins, stumbling forward into Emily and pressing their lips together with very little finesse. It starts off as not much of anything, but it doesn’t take long for Naomi to tease Emily’s mouth open, doesn’t take long for Naomi to have Emily gasping for breath, doesn’t take long to run her hands down Emily’s back, letting them rest just below the waistband of Emily’s skirt, pressing them even closer together and making Emily ache for more.
“Home?” Emily manages to squeeze between kisses, but Naomi only shakes her head. “Now,” she breathes against Emily’s mouth, with a flex of her fingers. “I know a place,” she adds and starts walking Emily backwards towards the shadows behind the club.
She’s slammed back against the wall, that’s what it feels like, but she doesn’t concentrate on the pain, because Naomi’s already moving her mouth against Emily’s neck, and while one hand is squeezing Emily’s waist, the other has worked its way under her top, and is cupping one of her tits through her bra, a thumb being traced over her hardened nipple.
“Oh god,” Emily groans, throwing her head back to give Naomi more room. She takes it, licking and sucking a path to Emily’s ear.
“I need you Ems,” Naomi whispers, the hand still palming at her breast. “Please.”
Emily could make her beg properly; she knows she could. But that would mean missing out herself, and Emily needs this just as much. She nudges Naomi’s legs apart with a knee, pressing her thigh upwards, and watches Naomi’s face as she squeezes her eyes shut. She’s beautiful, always beautiful, but especially like this Emily thinks, and she’ll never not remember the first time, the time where Naomi chanted her name, and clenched her hands in that blanket until she came undone underneath Emily.
Emily pulls Naomi’s hips closer still; making her gasp, but Emily cuts that off with a kiss. Her hands move to the front of Naomi’s jeans, searching for the belt buckle. She’s sure she’s told Naomi before about this, how much she hates this fucking belt with its obnoxiously awkward clasp. It takes a minute of fumbling, a minute of Naomi’s frustrated and fruitless grinding, and Emily’s exasperated muttering mixed in with their desperate kisses until it eventually falls open, which is a minute wasted as far as Emily’s concerned, so she immediately slips her hands underneath the waistband of Naomi’s girly boxers, grabs her arse and feels as Naomi bucks against her.
“Fuck Emily, please,” Naomi moans, and Emily consents, not wanting to draw this out any longer for her own sake, as much as anything else. She twists, switches their positions and has Naomi where she wants her. She moves a hand round, pushing down the front of Naomi’s boxers, and it’s tight, there’s not much space, but enough, just, for Emily to push inside. It’s difficult to get a rhythm, but they manage a jerky motion that just about works, with Emily’s palm being pressed into Naomi’s clit with every thrust. It doesn’t take much, Naomi’s so wet already, and she clamps a hand around Emily’s wrist, keeping her pressed firmly in place as she begins to spasm around Emily’s fingers. Naomi’s nails dig in just before she comes and she sucks in breath between clenched teeth, before finally exhaling, Emily’s name on her lips.
Emily pulls her fingers out and takes them to her mouth. She waits until Naomi’s eyes reopen before sucking them clean, and the look she gets in return is almost reward enough. It reminds her of the ache between her own legs, how she’s desperate for Naomi’s touch, but thankfully, Naomi doesn’t seem to have forgotten. Two hands make their way under her skirt, rest on her hips and lift her up, spin them both around, so it’s her that Naomi’s pressing against the wall again. Naomi keeps hold of one leg, keeping them open, and with her other hand, begins to rub at Emily’s clit through her knickers.
It’s not enough, Emily’s sure, even as she’s struggling for breath. She wants to feel Naomi, wants Naomi to feel her, but she can’t quite get the words out. Naomi must know though, because she pushes the material to the side, and pushes into her hard and fast. Emily gasps at the sudden change of pace, but Naomi doesn’t let up, and uses her thumb to circle Emily’s clit. Her hips begin to move wildly as the pressure builds, and she has to hold on to Naomi’s shoulders to keep herself upright.
“Naomi, I’m going to-kiss me,” she manages to get out, before Naomi is there, kissing her, and holding her steady, as Emily starts shaking in her arms. Naomi keeps kissing her as Emily comes down, until she’s caught her breath again, and is sure she’s able to stand without falling over.
From nowhere, before Emily’s quite recovered even, Naomi laughs and takes Emily’s hand, dragging her back towards the street. “We’ve got to go. I just remembered.”
Emily frowns and tries to keep up. “Wait, Naomi, remembered what?”
“That alley. Cook showed me that spot. And if Cook’s pulled Katie…”
“Oh fuck. Naomi, what if they saw?”
Naomi laughs, and pulls Emily to her. “I think we’re safe. Cook would’ve tried to join in after all.”
“Good point,” Emily says, as they start the walk home, and she squeezes Naomi’s hand. If she weren’t in a post-sex haze perhaps it’d bother her a lot more, the idea of Katie seeing, and Cook, Jesus, trying to get involved in any way possible, but she is in a post-sex haze, a Naomi-induced orgasm, and it turns out she doesn’t really care about anything that much right now. “Hey, can we get chips on the way?”
The suggestion makes Naomi smirk. “Work up an appetite did you?”
“Fuck off,” Emily replies, nudging Naomi’s shoulder.
“Chips then. As long as you share.”
“As long as you ask nicely,” Emily returns.
Naomi smiles, and kisses the corner of Emily’s mouth. “Always.”
Characters: Naomi/Emily (implied Katie/Cook as a bonus background)
Rating: NC-17
Words: ~1,600
Summary: This is basically PWP, idk, Naomi and Emily are a little bit drunk.
Disclaimer: Not my characters
A/N: Um, I don't really know why I wrote this, mainly because I was told that I wouldn't do it and I'm stubborn like that? Whatever, either way I wrote it, and you know, you can celebrate the end of all the bank holidays with some porn, if you happen to be someone who celebrates with porn. Otherwise, you can just read it. This was gay-proofed by crackfoxx , so any technical issues should be directed her way.
There’s something about Naomi being drunk.
Maybe it’s to do with how passionate she gets, how she believes that she is absolutely correct about everything and anything that she cares to have an opinion on. Maybe it’s how her eyes light up whenever they settle on Emily, how she doesn’t hide behind a scowl anymore.
Or maybe it’s just that, often nowadays, whenever Naomi’s drunk, there’s a high chance that Emily is as well, and she can’t help it if she gets horny when she’s drunk.
The dancing doesn’t help either. Close, but not close enough. Never close enough. Naomi’s hand settles lightly on her hip, possessive, and Emily can’t help but love it, that Naomi’s laying claim to what is hers. Because it’s true after all. Whichever way you look at it, Emily is Naomi’s, completely and utterly hers. And Naomi is hers. It’s that simple.
Emily reaches up and tangles her fingers in the hair just at the nape of Naomi’s neck. It elicits a lazy smile and Naomi dips her head, lets her lips brush against Emily’s, just once.
“Fucking tease,” Emily mutters, and Naomi just cocks an eyebrow, all oh sorry, were you expecting something else? and Emily remembers why she also sometimes hates Naomi when she’s drunk. A gentle tug on Naomi’s hair brings the score back to one all, and it’s Emily’s turn to smirk.
They could stay there all night, playing this game back and forth, but the reality is that Emily knows that Naomi is far too stubborn to give in and Emily doesn’t want to give her the pleasure of thinking she’s won. Instead, Emily mimes fag with her free hand, and Naomi nods.
Outside, Naomi seems somehow drunker, throwing an arm around Emily’s shoulders just to stay upright. Emily pokes her in the side and laughs at the look of confusion written all over Naomi’s face.
“What was that for?”
Emily threads her fingers through Naomi’s. “Come on missy. We should get you home.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re a drunken lout. And, you know, other stuff.”
Naomi stops dead. “Other stuff?” She asks, as if not entirely sure that her and Emily are on the same page.
Emily hums in agreement, and then laughs again, as Naomi finally catches on and starts leading them homewards, determined look on her face. Two wobbly steps later, however, Naomi’s stopped again.
“Wait. What about Katie?”
Emily can’t quite believe it. Her girlfriend, her girlfriend who regularly reminds her that she can’t stand her sister, is now checking on her welfare? “Naomi. We start talking about other stuff and now is when you want to be considerate towards my sister?”
“No, I just- but I thought you wanted…”
“Did you see Katie in there?”
“No,” Naomi admits, and then blushes. “I was a little bit, you know. Distracted.” She lets her gaze land on Emily’s chest. “New top? I don’t think I’ve seen it before. It’s, um, nice.”
And it is, admittedly, quite a low cut top - she’s got Katie to thank for it after all - and there was a reason Emily had picked it tonight, so she can’t really be annoyed that it’s worked. But Naomi doesn’t seem to realise how close she is to being able to take it off and now it’s maybe getting in the way of things. “I’ve had this top for a year, Nae. You’ve seen it lots. Or you would have, if you’d actually, you know, stop staring at my tits.”
“Huh,” Naomi replies, her eyes not moving once.
“Anyway,” Emily continues, pushing Naomi’s chin up with a finger so she’s forced to look at Emily’s face. “Katie will be fine. Cook is making sure of that as we speak.”
“Oh.” Naomi says dumbly, clearly before piecing together what that means. “Oh,” she says again, and grins, stumbling forward into Emily and pressing their lips together with very little finesse. It starts off as not much of anything, but it doesn’t take long for Naomi to tease Emily’s mouth open, doesn’t take long for Naomi to have Emily gasping for breath, doesn’t take long to run her hands down Emily’s back, letting them rest just below the waistband of Emily’s skirt, pressing them even closer together and making Emily ache for more.
“Home?” Emily manages to squeeze between kisses, but Naomi only shakes her head. “Now,” she breathes against Emily’s mouth, with a flex of her fingers. “I know a place,” she adds and starts walking Emily backwards towards the shadows behind the club.
She’s slammed back against the wall, that’s what it feels like, but she doesn’t concentrate on the pain, because Naomi’s already moving her mouth against Emily’s neck, and while one hand is squeezing Emily’s waist, the other has worked its way under her top, and is cupping one of her tits through her bra, a thumb being traced over her hardened nipple.
“Oh god,” Emily groans, throwing her head back to give Naomi more room. She takes it, licking and sucking a path to Emily’s ear.
“I need you Ems,” Naomi whispers, the hand still palming at her breast. “Please.”
Emily could make her beg properly; she knows she could. But that would mean missing out herself, and Emily needs this just as much. She nudges Naomi’s legs apart with a knee, pressing her thigh upwards, and watches Naomi’s face as she squeezes her eyes shut. She’s beautiful, always beautiful, but especially like this Emily thinks, and she’ll never not remember the first time, the time where Naomi chanted her name, and clenched her hands in that blanket until she came undone underneath Emily.
Emily pulls Naomi’s hips closer still; making her gasp, but Emily cuts that off with a kiss. Her hands move to the front of Naomi’s jeans, searching for the belt buckle. She’s sure she’s told Naomi before about this, how much she hates this fucking belt with its obnoxiously awkward clasp. It takes a minute of fumbling, a minute of Naomi’s frustrated and fruitless grinding, and Emily’s exasperated muttering mixed in with their desperate kisses until it eventually falls open, which is a minute wasted as far as Emily’s concerned, so she immediately slips her hands underneath the waistband of Naomi’s girly boxers, grabs her arse and feels as Naomi bucks against her.
“Fuck Emily, please,” Naomi moans, and Emily consents, not wanting to draw this out any longer for her own sake, as much as anything else. She twists, switches their positions and has Naomi where she wants her. She moves a hand round, pushing down the front of Naomi’s boxers, and it’s tight, there’s not much space, but enough, just, for Emily to push inside. It’s difficult to get a rhythm, but they manage a jerky motion that just about works, with Emily’s palm being pressed into Naomi’s clit with every thrust. It doesn’t take much, Naomi’s so wet already, and she clamps a hand around Emily’s wrist, keeping her pressed firmly in place as she begins to spasm around Emily’s fingers. Naomi’s nails dig in just before she comes and she sucks in breath between clenched teeth, before finally exhaling, Emily’s name on her lips.
Emily pulls her fingers out and takes them to her mouth. She waits until Naomi’s eyes reopen before sucking them clean, and the look she gets in return is almost reward enough. It reminds her of the ache between her own legs, how she’s desperate for Naomi’s touch, but thankfully, Naomi doesn’t seem to have forgotten. Two hands make their way under her skirt, rest on her hips and lift her up, spin them both around, so it’s her that Naomi’s pressing against the wall again. Naomi keeps hold of one leg, keeping them open, and with her other hand, begins to rub at Emily’s clit through her knickers.
It’s not enough, Emily’s sure, even as she’s struggling for breath. She wants to feel Naomi, wants Naomi to feel her, but she can’t quite get the words out. Naomi must know though, because she pushes the material to the side, and pushes into her hard and fast. Emily gasps at the sudden change of pace, but Naomi doesn’t let up, and uses her thumb to circle Emily’s clit. Her hips begin to move wildly as the pressure builds, and she has to hold on to Naomi’s shoulders to keep herself upright.
“Naomi, I’m going to-kiss me,” she manages to get out, before Naomi is there, kissing her, and holding her steady, as Emily starts shaking in her arms. Naomi keeps kissing her as Emily comes down, until she’s caught her breath again, and is sure she’s able to stand without falling over.
From nowhere, before Emily’s quite recovered even, Naomi laughs and takes Emily’s hand, dragging her back towards the street. “We’ve got to go. I just remembered.”
Emily frowns and tries to keep up. “Wait, Naomi, remembered what?”
“That alley. Cook showed me that spot. And if Cook’s pulled Katie…”
“Oh fuck. Naomi, what if they saw?”
Naomi laughs, and pulls Emily to her. “I think we’re safe. Cook would’ve tried to join in after all.”
“Good point,” Emily says, as they start the walk home, and she squeezes Naomi’s hand. If she weren’t in a post-sex haze perhaps it’d bother her a lot more, the idea of Katie seeing, and Cook, Jesus, trying to get involved in any way possible, but she is in a post-sex haze, a Naomi-induced orgasm, and it turns out she doesn’t really care about anything that much right now. “Hey, can we get chips on the way?”
The suggestion makes Naomi smirk. “Work up an appetite did you?”
“Fuck off,” Emily replies, nudging Naomi’s shoulder.
“Chips then. As long as you share.”
“As long as you ask nicely,” Emily returns.
Naomi smiles, and kisses the corner of Emily’s mouth. “Always.”