(no subject)
Look, if your canon already provides you with hot girls in swimsuits and adorable OTPs, there's only so long you can resist writing suggestive things.
Annabelle/Simone, post-canon, PG...ish? 600ish words. Mild spoilers.
Simone's settled comfortably onto the couch, engrossed in Le rempart des béguines, the cool breeze off the ocean stirring her hair and ruffling the pages, when soft footsteps tell her Annabelle's had enough of the surf and has come back up to the beach house. She barely has time to close the book before the girl's leg slides over hers, and then Annabelle's straddling her lap, winding her fingers into one of Simone's curls and grinning as she tugs and lets it spring back. She looks like an imp, or some kind of mischievous ocean spirit, and even now the sight of her former student in a bikini top and tight denim shorts that barely reach the top of her thighs makes Simone take a deep breath in and reach for her necklace. Annabelle catches her hand halfway there, and brings it down around her back so that Simone's fingers brush skin and then fabric and Annabelle squirms a little closer against her.
"I thought you'd be out there for hours," Simone murmurs, trying not to look at Annabelle, which is harder than it sounds when the girl's cleavage is right in front of her eyes. It's even harder when Annabelle rests her arms on Simone's shoulders, her head tilted to one side and her smile sweet and naughty.
"It's gonna rain soon." And when Simone looks up at the sky, trying to ignore the frame of the girl's shoulder and her profile as she turns to look, too, there is a little bit of cloud - but not much, and a long way away. She sighs, and looks back at Annabelle, who's grinning at her. "So I thought I'd better come tell you your book is going to get wet."
"That wasn't the reason, Annabelle."
"Mmm," Annabelle acknowledges, and arches her back, and bites her lip as she watches Simone, who's suddenly discovered how difficult it is to form words again. Her hands have come to rest on Annabelle's thighs, the book forgotten on the seat beside her, and the sun peeks out from behind the clouds for a moment to halo Annabelle's head in a blaze of glory. Simone realizes she's stopped breathing, and surrenders to the inevitable when her lover leans in.
Annabelle tastes like salt and sunshine and sweetness, and she makes a pleased sound when Simone manages to undo the button of her shorts and tugs them down around her hips. It doesn't take her long to pull Simone's shirt over her head, and only takes a few moments longer before Simone realizes where, exactly, they are, and that if she tugs any more on the laces of Annabelle's bikini the girl will be practically naked, and that this is quite a compromising position, and her cheeks start to burn. Annabelle's smile is somewhere between wicked and angelic, and she doesn't move until Simone brings both hands up to her face and then tries to hide in the younger woman's shoulder.
"No one can see us," Annabelle says, and she sounds amused. Her arms snake around Simone's back, cradling her.
"That's not the point, Annabelle."
"We could go inside." And then, when Simone hesitates, Annabelle turns her head and sets her teeth against the older woman's ear, not hard enough to hurt. "C'mon, Simone."
It's her name in Annabelle's voice that does it, and Simone looks up, and catches Annabelle smirking and biting her lip again. She sighs, and pushes Annabelle off her lap, and offers her a hand before tugging her into the beach house.
Annabelle/Simone, post-canon, PG...ish? 600ish words. Mild spoilers.
Simone's settled comfortably onto the couch, engrossed in Le rempart des béguines, the cool breeze off the ocean stirring her hair and ruffling the pages, when soft footsteps tell her Annabelle's had enough of the surf and has come back up to the beach house. She barely has time to close the book before the girl's leg slides over hers, and then Annabelle's straddling her lap, winding her fingers into one of Simone's curls and grinning as she tugs and lets it spring back. She looks like an imp, or some kind of mischievous ocean spirit, and even now the sight of her former student in a bikini top and tight denim shorts that barely reach the top of her thighs makes Simone take a deep breath in and reach for her necklace. Annabelle catches her hand halfway there, and brings it down around her back so that Simone's fingers brush skin and then fabric and Annabelle squirms a little closer against her.
"I thought you'd be out there for hours," Simone murmurs, trying not to look at Annabelle, which is harder than it sounds when the girl's cleavage is right in front of her eyes. It's even harder when Annabelle rests her arms on Simone's shoulders, her head tilted to one side and her smile sweet and naughty.
"It's gonna rain soon." And when Simone looks up at the sky, trying to ignore the frame of the girl's shoulder and her profile as she turns to look, too, there is a little bit of cloud - but not much, and a long way away. She sighs, and looks back at Annabelle, who's grinning at her. "So I thought I'd better come tell you your book is going to get wet."
"That wasn't the reason, Annabelle."
"Mmm," Annabelle acknowledges, and arches her back, and bites her lip as she watches Simone, who's suddenly discovered how difficult it is to form words again. Her hands have come to rest on Annabelle's thighs, the book forgotten on the seat beside her, and the sun peeks out from behind the clouds for a moment to halo Annabelle's head in a blaze of glory. Simone realizes she's stopped breathing, and surrenders to the inevitable when her lover leans in.
Annabelle tastes like salt and sunshine and sweetness, and she makes a pleased sound when Simone manages to undo the button of her shorts and tugs them down around her hips. It doesn't take her long to pull Simone's shirt over her head, and only takes a few moments longer before Simone realizes where, exactly, they are, and that if she tugs any more on the laces of Annabelle's bikini the girl will be practically naked, and that this is quite a compromising position, and her cheeks start to burn. Annabelle's smile is somewhere between wicked and angelic, and she doesn't move until Simone brings both hands up to her face and then tries to hide in the younger woman's shoulder.
"No one can see us," Annabelle says, and she sounds amused. Her arms snake around Simone's back, cradling her.
"That's not the point, Annabelle."
"We could go inside." And then, when Simone hesitates, Annabelle turns her head and sets her teeth against the older woman's ear, not hard enough to hurt. "C'mon, Simone."
It's her name in Annabelle's voice that does it, and Simone looks up, and catches Annabelle smirking and biting her lip again. She sighs, and pushes Annabelle off her lap, and offers her a hand before tugging her into the beach house.