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choc_fic, and because it's Valentine's Day.
Title: Why Anissa Cut Her Hair
Fandom: DC Comics
Pairing: Grace Choi / Anissa Pierce (Grace/Thunder)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: none, really. Set in the missing year before OYL.
Summary: Then Grace stops, and there's a pause.
Anissa throws her head back and screams, because she can, because the sound bounces off the bedroom walls, because it makes Grace laugh low and deep and vibrating through them both. She shouts as she bounces on the silicone cock Grace picked out tonight, and she can be as wild as she wants because Grace's got her, big hands tight around her waist; she can let her power flicker, feel herself get lighter and heavier, because she can't hurt Grace, because Grace's muscles just harden, standing out beneath her tattooed skin as she pushes Anissa up, because she curls up to bite Anissa's toughened skin and licks her when she turns soft again, sucks hot wet kisses onto the bites as if to keep her from floating away.
Anissa moans and laughs when Grace kisses her, grips her damp shoulders harder and drives herself up and down that much faster; Grace grins at her and murmurs, "that's it, baby, fuck yourself," and Anissa has to laugh again even as Grace's voice spills heat down her spine. She does, and a chunk of silicone shouldn't feel so good thrusting inside her, even warm with body heat and well-slicked, but then it's strapped to Grace, of course it feels good, of course it feels amazing. When Grace pulled it from her toybag and waved it around Anissa's cheeks burned, and she'd almost turned it down, wondering if a dildo was quite properly lesbian, but she could never mistake Grace for a man, not with her full red mouth and her surprisingly deep eyes, not with her soft skin over steel-hard muscles. And definitely not with her breasts, nipples all crinkled and pointing straight up, and Anissa leans forward, moans at the way the dildo shifts inside her, and reaches out to palm one.
"Not yet, sweetie." Grace catches Anissa's wrist and pushes her back and up, grinning at her stymied groan. "I wanna see you come again, then you can play with my tits."
Too breathless for a retort, Anissa crooks her other hand at Grace, and Grace laughs, letting go to push herself up to sitting, stroking her firmly up Anissa's back to cup her neck. Gripping Grace's broad forearms, Anissa pushes into Grace's touch, and her eyes fall closed as her head tips into Grace's hand.
Grace tugs her hair, the burn in her scalp surprisingly hot and sexy, and Anissa yelps, louder than she meant to. But she doesn't have to watch her voice, doesn't have to be quiet with Grace, who laughs and yanks again, pulling Anissa down onto the dildo. "Yeah, let me watch you," Grace says, low and smoky, and she's moving Anissa just a little harder than she'd move herself, just a little more wildly. "Oh, baby, you should see yourself, see your tits bounce and the way you wiggle." Anissa can see it even though her eyes are closed, feel how Grace makes her move, and she rocks into the thrusts and screams so hard her throat burns to match her scalp and clutches Grace's sleek skin as she comes shouting, red lightning across her closed eyes, fire and gravity flickering down her nerves.
"Oh, God, holy shit," Anissa gasps, too breathless to laugh, and Grace laughs so her breasts vibrate when Anissa presses her face to them, laughs louder when Anissa bites her between deep breaths. Her teeth don't really sink in, but it's the principle of the thing. "Shut up," Anissa puffs, meaning absolutely the opposite, knowing Grace knows it as she tugs her hair just a little and lies them both down again. Grace laughs a warm breath over Anissa's sweaty forehead, licks her and pulls her up enough to pop her off the dildo, and Anissa lies on Grace and lets herself be pulled sliding up into a kiss that tastes like her own sweat and juices and Grace's hot smart mouth.
Like this whole night, and Anissa kisses Grace eagerly, thinking about how once she might've thought that was gross. Now she knows better. Anissa pulls back, smiles at Grace and drops her head to Grace's shoulder, knowing just how awesome her life is as they lie there, Grace running one hand lazily up and down Anissa's back and Anissa sighing with drowsy happiness.
Then Grace stops, and there's a pause, and right around when Anissa's about to lift her head Grace says, "baby?" Not fearfully, Grace is never afraid, but... disconcertedly. That's the word, Anissa thinks, as she slowly opens her eyes.
Grace's fist is full of Anissa's hair, sticking out between her fingers. Anissa reaches up to her head and finds a big ragged short patch, the kind no style's going to disguise. When she looks up, it takes her a moment to recognize actual sheepishness on Grace's face. "Uh," Grace says, "oops?"
Anissa puts her head down again and starts laughing, all the way up from her gut, unsure whether her broken-off hair or seeing Grace's eyes go wide is funnier. "Oh, fuck it," she finally gasps out. "I'm sick of straightening my hair anyway."
"If I'd known this was how to get you to go natural I'd've pulled your hair off weeks ago." Grace dumps the handful into the trashbin and tugs, gently for her, on a surviving long lock of Anissa's hair, until Anissa makes a protesting noise that isn't all that high-pitched as she bats Grace's hand away. "I've been telling you a 'fro'll look hot on you."
"You've said." Anissa mutters drowsily, snuggled into Grace's warmth. She'll worry about her hair in the morning, and she really was tired of getting it processed. Monthly hair appointments just didn't schedule with superheroing.
Grace, isn't done, of course. "Won't you look incredible without the girly-girl hair when I get you in a harness. We'll have to get you a big black dick to match."
Anissa tosses her head up, feeling her eyes go round, and it's Grace's turn to laugh at her expression; she rolls her eyes, and can't help smiling.
DCU: Outsiders, Anissa/Grace: accidental stimulation (proximity and friction; involuntary arousal; situations of adrenaline and reflexes) - What?
choc_fic, and because it's Valentine's Day.Title: Why Anissa Cut Her Hair
Fandom: DC Comics
Pairing: Grace Choi / Anissa Pierce (Grace/Thunder)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: none, really. Set in the missing year before OYL.
Summary: Then Grace stops, and there's a pause.
Anissa throws her head back and screams, because she can, because the sound bounces off the bedroom walls, because it makes Grace laugh low and deep and vibrating through them both. She shouts as she bounces on the silicone cock Grace picked out tonight, and she can be as wild as she wants because Grace's got her, big hands tight around her waist; she can let her power flicker, feel herself get lighter and heavier, because she can't hurt Grace, because Grace's muscles just harden, standing out beneath her tattooed skin as she pushes Anissa up, because she curls up to bite Anissa's toughened skin and licks her when she turns soft again, sucks hot wet kisses onto the bites as if to keep her from floating away.
Anissa moans and laughs when Grace kisses her, grips her damp shoulders harder and drives herself up and down that much faster; Grace grins at her and murmurs, "that's it, baby, fuck yourself," and Anissa has to laugh again even as Grace's voice spills heat down her spine. She does, and a chunk of silicone shouldn't feel so good thrusting inside her, even warm with body heat and well-slicked, but then it's strapped to Grace, of course it feels good, of course it feels amazing. When Grace pulled it from her toybag and waved it around Anissa's cheeks burned, and she'd almost turned it down, wondering if a dildo was quite properly lesbian, but she could never mistake Grace for a man, not with her full red mouth and her surprisingly deep eyes, not with her soft skin over steel-hard muscles. And definitely not with her breasts, nipples all crinkled and pointing straight up, and Anissa leans forward, moans at the way the dildo shifts inside her, and reaches out to palm one.
"Not yet, sweetie." Grace catches Anissa's wrist and pushes her back and up, grinning at her stymied groan. "I wanna see you come again, then you can play with my tits."
Too breathless for a retort, Anissa crooks her other hand at Grace, and Grace laughs, letting go to push herself up to sitting, stroking her firmly up Anissa's back to cup her neck. Gripping Grace's broad forearms, Anissa pushes into Grace's touch, and her eyes fall closed as her head tips into Grace's hand.
Grace tugs her hair, the burn in her scalp surprisingly hot and sexy, and Anissa yelps, louder than she meant to. But she doesn't have to watch her voice, doesn't have to be quiet with Grace, who laughs and yanks again, pulling Anissa down onto the dildo. "Yeah, let me watch you," Grace says, low and smoky, and she's moving Anissa just a little harder than she'd move herself, just a little more wildly. "Oh, baby, you should see yourself, see your tits bounce and the way you wiggle." Anissa can see it even though her eyes are closed, feel how Grace makes her move, and she rocks into the thrusts and screams so hard her throat burns to match her scalp and clutches Grace's sleek skin as she comes shouting, red lightning across her closed eyes, fire and gravity flickering down her nerves.
"Oh, God, holy shit," Anissa gasps, too breathless to laugh, and Grace laughs so her breasts vibrate when Anissa presses her face to them, laughs louder when Anissa bites her between deep breaths. Her teeth don't really sink in, but it's the principle of the thing. "Shut up," Anissa puffs, meaning absolutely the opposite, knowing Grace knows it as she tugs her hair just a little and lies them both down again. Grace laughs a warm breath over Anissa's sweaty forehead, licks her and pulls her up enough to pop her off the dildo, and Anissa lies on Grace and lets herself be pulled sliding up into a kiss that tastes like her own sweat and juices and Grace's hot smart mouth.
Like this whole night, and Anissa kisses Grace eagerly, thinking about how once she might've thought that was gross. Now she knows better. Anissa pulls back, smiles at Grace and drops her head to Grace's shoulder, knowing just how awesome her life is as they lie there, Grace running one hand lazily up and down Anissa's back and Anissa sighing with drowsy happiness.
Then Grace stops, and there's a pause, and right around when Anissa's about to lift her head Grace says, "baby?" Not fearfully, Grace is never afraid, but... disconcertedly. That's the word, Anissa thinks, as she slowly opens her eyes.
Grace's fist is full of Anissa's hair, sticking out between her fingers. Anissa reaches up to her head and finds a big ragged short patch, the kind no style's going to disguise. When she looks up, it takes her a moment to recognize actual sheepishness on Grace's face. "Uh," Grace says, "oops?"
Anissa puts her head down again and starts laughing, all the way up from her gut, unsure whether her broken-off hair or seeing Grace's eyes go wide is funnier. "Oh, fuck it," she finally gasps out. "I'm sick of straightening my hair anyway."
"If I'd known this was how to get you to go natural I'd've pulled your hair off weeks ago." Grace dumps the handful into the trashbin and tugs, gently for her, on a surviving long lock of Anissa's hair, until Anissa makes a protesting noise that isn't all that high-pitched as she bats Grace's hand away. "I've been telling you a 'fro'll look hot on you."
"You've said." Anissa mutters drowsily, snuggled into Grace's warmth. She'll worry about her hair in the morning, and she really was tired of getting it processed. Monthly hair appointments just didn't schedule with superheroing.
Grace, isn't done, of course. "Won't you look incredible without the girly-girl hair when I get you in a harness. We'll have to get you a big black dick to match."
Anissa tosses her head up, feeling her eyes go round, and it's Grace's turn to laugh at her expression; she rolls her eyes, and can't help smiling.
DCU: Outsiders, Anissa/Grace: accidental stimulation (proximity and friction; involuntary arousal; situations of adrenaline and reflexes) - What?
