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It happened so quickly that it left Gigi standing there reeling, in the kitchen, with the bowl of quickly cooling store brand popcorn in her hands. Stock still, stunned. Dazed. Another word that encapsulated the way her whole body felt off balance and headed for the floor. Some phrase someone had already coined that precisely described the way her heart did a loop and ended up rabbiting its way through her bloodstream, leaving heat and want in its wake. But Gigi sincerely doubted anybody had ever felt like this before; immolating and vibrating out of her skin, knuckles white as her jaw tightened and her canines nicked her lip as she bit into them hard to cut off the sound that threatened to escape her.
She could catch a glimpse of the top of Ame’s head from here, bright and golden, vibrant against the television screen. Unfortunately, it was not playing Teen Wolf. Ame had put her foot down with that suggestion, since it had been the third time Gigi asked. Against the bright colors of the film that was playing, she could see the ponytail that she had put in for Ame, careful hands clumsily working a hairband around what Ame had deemed to be a perfect bun, now fallen apart.
“I love it,” Ame had said, eyes shining in the mirror, tucking a non-existent lock of hair behind her ear on reflex. She had pecked Gigi on the cheek, then. Her mouth had been warm, was always warm, to be honest. It left a brand on Gigi’s skin, surely if she were to walk on the street everyone would know that she had just been kissed. By Amelia Watson, no less, and the touch was enough to render every cell in Gigi's body to devotion. When she left the bathroom to get the movie set up, Gigi had remained, fingers brushing over the tingling mark until her memory failed her, and the ghost of the touch failed to be enough.
And now the word rang in her ears, searing every sense till Gigi wanted to both scream and bash her head into the wall and kiss Amelia Watson breathless for what she had done to her. The film droned on in the background. She tasted copper and licked her lips, the low light of the kitchen and the illumination from the TV screen adding a dreamy quality to the scene, coating every reflective surface with soft color.
“Are you eating all the popcorn?” Ame’s eyes peeked over the edge of the couch, making Gigi jump slightly. “I can’t believe you, I bought that, this is the ultimate betrayal Gigi-”
“I’m not!” Gigi managed to get out through a seemingly swollen throat, something else fighting to get out, probably an incriminating statement that would make Ame look at her like she was disgusting, because what she said was just a joke, something silly blurted out on a whim and certainly not as big a deal as Gigi was making it out to be-
“Are you?” Ame got up, kneeling on the couch to fully face Gigi, arms draped over the back and her blue eyes like a spotlight on Gigi’s trembling frame. “You’ve got the face of a liar right now.”
“I do not!” Gigi’s voice did not crack, thank you very much. “You can, you can have all the popcorn, I need to go, to go, bathroom, go to bathroom, ok, bye.”
She stiffly walked forward and shoved the bowl into Ame’s hands, and turned to leave. It was Ame’s questioning hum, a siren call, sweet and soft that made her stop in her tracks.
“Did I say something wrong?” Fingers walked their way up Gigi’s back, tickling, sending blood rushing to Gigi’s head in a flood of ‘oh god, I am not your strongest soldier’.
“...No.” Gigi’s now empty hands made a tangle in front of her, thumbs twiddling and knuckles being inspected. “You didn’ say anythin’.”
“I didn’t?” Oh she was teasing now, smug and secure in her knowledge that she’d said something that pressed at a chink in Gigi’s composure, cracked it open and revealed something soft and tender to ply love at, to play with. The couch creaked, the weight at Gigi’s back shifting until there was a chin on her shoulder and an arm snaking its way around her waist.
‘Curse you, Amelia Watson, and your fiendish, manipulative ways’, Gigi solemnly thought, resigned to her fate with her face turned towards the ceiling and the dent that she had never been able to fix. ‘You could sell a car salesman his own warranty’. She did not acknowledge the fact that she was especially susceptible to Ame’s so called manipulative ways, but this was more to spare her already bruised pride.
A hand tucked itself just under the edge of her shirt, resting on her stomach. A thumb over her navel, brushing soft hairs as a pinkie fiddled with the band of her boxer briefs.
“You’re thinking too much.” Gigi could hear the pout in Ame’s voice, and could feel the way her lips quirked up at the edges when Ame brushed her mouth against the nape of her neck, relishing in the shiver she drew out of Gigi. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“Hey!” Gigi pulled free, indignant and whipping around to say so. “I am thinking perfectly normal things, thank you.”
“That’s not what I said.” Ame had taken her hair down, and the casual state it left her in was taking Gigi out. Violently. Her heart was reading the riot act as it hemorrhaged in its death throes. “What perfectly normal things are you thinking of?”
“Your hair,” Gigi’s mouth was running ahead, marathoning while Gigi’s poor brain was still caught on the way the light from the TV cast the side of Ame’s face into sharp relief, Renaissance-esque or something, or baroque if you got technical with it. If she took her on a date to a museum, she’d be right at home with the most beautiful things in the world.
“Did it take you that long to think of that?” Ame was smiling, but her face was red, the suggestion of her freckles coming out in full force.
Ah. Gigi had said that out loud. It could have been worse. She could have said something really embarrassing like-
“Can I eat you out?”
When Ame started, cheeks now really burning red, Gigi buried her face in her hands and groaned until she could feel it in the back of her skull, shaking out the thoughts she had tried so hard to bury alongside her emo phase and when she got really into the teenage mutant ninja turtles franchise.
“You called me ‘husband’ and that was so hot - you calling me husband not you being husband- not that you couldn’t be my husband, I’d call you that if you wanted, orwifeifyouwantedthat - but I liked it too much and I’mgonnashutupnow.”
“And that translates to eating me out?” The way Ame pronounced the phrase was an arrow to Gigi’s sternum, one on fire too with the way it hit her straight in the gut with a sharp heat, heady and spreading till she wanted to be on her knees already.
“I think I’d do that all the time if I could.” Gigi said honestly, too honestly, ears burning as she tried to convince herself she didn’t need to take it back, to make a joke out of it, even as she was already preparing to laugh it off.
“Okay.”
Gigi blinked. Her mouth pulled into an awkward smile, unsure of what else to do. If there was an appropriate response in a manual she was supposed to get upon getting a girlfriend, she did not receive it and was instead broadcasting a code ‘help’ on all fronts. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Ame leaned back against the couch, slow, every movement measured like she knew what she was doing. And she did. She very much did, eyes trained on Gigi’s face as one leg lifted up, up, up, shorts riding up to reveal milky thigh, Gigi’s eyes moving up the tensing muscle to the crease of Ame’s thigh. Wiry blonde curls peeked out from simple panties, and already Gigi’s mouth was watering, pavlovian response encoded so deep within her that her knees were already stinging from dropping to the ground without thinking.
“Oh, wow,” Gigi’s hands fumbled with the knot on Ame’s shorts before she gave up and just tugged them down, Ame’s stunned giggles making her smile into her constellations of freckles on her thighs before her mouth was tracing a wet line to heat and salt and bitter tang.
The taste made her nose wrinkle, not that it was unpleasant, but it was a strong taste, very Ame in the way it was. It wasn’t a flowery sort of sweetness that Gigi’s brief forays into esteemed literature described, but it was Ame anyhow; cloying and heavy, making a mess out of Gigi’s chin and lower jaw, salty and meaty and like she was eating her alive instead of just eating her out. Not that there was much of a difference if you thought about it hard enough.
Ame’s breathy moans coming from somewhere above made Gigi’s head spin, though it was slightly eased from how Gigi’s eyes were already screwed shut, leaving her in darkness with nothing but her tongue and her hands grasping Ame’s hips, thighs, scrabbling for touch and pressure, pulling Ame in closer, closer, closer, till there was a pain in Gigi’s nose as Ame ground down into her face, using her to get off, and if that wasn’t making Gigi already egregiously wet then she would have assumed her junk had fallen off at some point.
“God you’re so good,” Ame groaned, whimpered more like, taken to the edge and left balancing on one leg with the other wrapped around Gigi’s neck. Her hips rutted into the air, the bridge of Gigi’s nose adding firm pressure to her clit as a hot tongue wormed its way inside, not enough brainpower in Gigi to even consider adding in a finger, instead wholly consumed by devouring Ame and being as messy as she could in the process.
“Mhmm?” Gigi mumbled into Ame’s folds, nipped at her hip bone for a split second before going back in, almost missing the pressure and the slickness on her face. “‘M Good?”
“So good.” If Gigi had the wherewithal to open her eyes and look up, she would have seen the dreamy smile plastered over Ame’s face, the sweat on her skin making her shine, her collarbones dreadfully bare and in need of a good nip. “My husband, my husband, the best-”
The moan Gigi let out was downright embarrassing. If there was more going on in her head other than the goal of making Ame feel good she would have most definitely curled into a ball and not uncoiled until the end of time. But as it was, she shuddered in a whole body ache as a mini, almost-orgasm rattled through her and left her wanton. She threw herself into the task of pleasing Ame until she could taste copper, her nose throbbing, Ame making choked off little moans as her fingers dug into Gigi’s scalp.
Gigi drank it all up when Ame came, pride burning a furnace in her chest at the ruined moan that tore itself free from Ame’s throat like some guttural, uncontrollable thing. When she was pulled away by a trembling hand, and her eyes fluttered open into lazy half moons, she was greeted by the sight of an utterly debauched Ame, looking at her with an expression so fond and tender she felt like she was cracking open, wet and raw and with stinging knees.
Ame’s hand smoothed Gigi’s hair back from her forehead, brushed over the tip of her nose as Ame’s face scrunched into a cross between a frown and a smile. “Your nose is bleeding.”
Gigi just nodded, still looking up at Ame, noting how her knees trembled slightly and how her thighs were shiny from slick. She licked her lips, tried to get her chin and her cheeks, and delighted in how Ame squeaked and tried to wipe her face with her own sleeves instead.
“You taste good,” Gigi explained, a bit loopy, snaggletooth canines pearly white and threatening even with blown out pupils and ruddy cheeks. “Really good. One more taste?”
“Hah!” Was barked out into the heavy, still air of the room. The credits were rolling behind Ame, the darkness of the screen making the room fall into a sort of twilight. Without looking, Ame reached behind her and grabbed the remote from off the couch, turning the television off before tugging Gigi up to stand.
A forlorn expression was on Gigi’s face as her knees trembled, leaning in a bit too far to bump her still wet chin against Ame’s cheek, pressing a soft kiss to her cheekbone and peppering them down to her mouth, salty with sweat and a bit of buttery popcorn, the ghost of sweetness from their soda from hours ago. “Is that a no?”
“You’re so silly,” Ame said, still so fond. Gigi was about to say something terribly stupid, like ”Can I eat you out again?” or ”I love you” before Ame leaned all her weight on her, almost sending them both to the ground. “Take me to bed?”
“To sleep?” Gigi asked, a bit stupidly, but her hind brain was still in high gear and her nose was a pleasant throb as Ame leaned in and licked the sweat-come-blood off her upper lip in what was an honestly disgusting display that made Gigi almost drop to her knees again.
“My husband is going to fuck me.” Ame said, very smugly. And Gigi was about to ask who before it clicked.
“Oh, so this is a thing.” She laughed, very awkwardly, looked at the dent in the ceiling, down at the floor, the middle ground that was Amelia Watson’s generous chest, back to the dent in the ceiling while Ame giggled. “That’s so, that’s so nice, this is a thing. I’m into this. I’m into this?”
“You’re into this?” Ame nuzzled into the crook of her neck, catlike, lapping at the hinge of her jaw as she gently pushed them in the direction of the bedroom, eager.
A beat.
“I’m into this,” Gigi confirmed, but it was a bit slow and not without hesitation.
“But you’re still…”
Gigi thought a moment, then shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Alright then.”
The door was nudged open with a foot and then closed behind them the same way, Ame already trotting off to collapse on the bed before rolling onto her back. She propped herself up on an elbow, lean and seductive without even trying, and Gigi’s neurons fired and misfired as they tried to figure out whether her mouth should be dry or salivating, if her heart should stop or accelerate, if her nose should keep on bleeding or should stop. The results to some of these questions were not that satisfactory, leaving Gigi to wipe her nose and wince at the sting.
“I’m waiting~” Ame sing-songed, the edges of her hair brushing her shoulders as her head tilted from side to side.
Shifting from one foot to the other, Gigi managed a nervous grin before committing to some semblance of a plan that had taken shape in her head, however vague it was.
Step one: toy?
Step two: make out.
Step three: ???
Step four: profit.
It was barebones, but she was already committed, pulling their harness out of a drawer and tugging her sleep pants and shirt off while trying to ignore the weight of Ame’s gaze on her back. This was a mistake, as when her attention was placed elsewhere, Ame had taken the initiative to tug her shirt off, leaving her bare and gorgeous and way out of place on the slightly silly bear-and-flowers comforter that Gigi simply had to have.
Gigi let out a strangled squawk, almost tripping over the harness with one foot in it and one foot outside it. She caught herself, and quickly shimmied the harness over her boxers, tightened the straps, and threaded a clean, light orange dildo through the hole at the front. The weight on her hips was comfortable, soothing, like settling into a second skin or a role that she knew how to play.
The look Ame was giving her, full of want and adoration, made her pump up her chest and walk towards the bed, before promptly tripping over her feet again and ending up on the bed, albeit with her face planted on Ame’s soft stomach.
She looked up at Ame. Ame looked down at her. She could feel the giggles racking through Ame’s core, and who was she to stop that? No, no, Gigi just kissed her, swallowed up her laugh with hands on either side of Ame’s head, holding her steady, Ame sitting up and rocking Gigi forward till she was sitting pretty on Ame’s lap like a good pet, like her husband, all prim and proper.
“I kinda wanted to take that shirt off you,” Gigi complained, moving to the sides of Ame’s neck, refreshing a hickey till it was dark plum bruised and obvious.
“You want me to put it back on again so you can take it off?” Ame asked wryly, with an eyebrow raised as she ran a hand over Gigi’s side, pressed into obliques then tweaked a nipple.
Gigi looked to the side, lips pursed in a childish expression. “Yes please…”
Laughing, Ame tugged the shirt on again, thankfully not thrown too far away when she’d first taken it off. But then it was already being pushed right back up, Gigi’s mouth following the bottom of the shirt up Ame’s stomach and to a breast, licking sloppily at a nipple before teething at it, the wanton sort of exuberance that so characterized her coming out at full force as she left a trail of wet kisses across Ame’s sternum to her other one, a hand coming up to squeeze the one left behind.
Her fingers traced where Ame’s ribs would be, under fat and muscle and light, soft skin. Down to grasp her hips, to her thigh, pressed on the inside where she knew she had left a particularly sore bite mark and basked in the gasp Ame let out. Gigi grinned when fingers wound into her hair and pulled her back up to Ame’s mouth, greedy and desperate.
“Sweetheart,” was all she managed to get out before Ame was biting at her lower lip, where she had bitten it herself before, and she moaned at the sting.
The pressure she felt from the head of the dildo pressing into Ame’s stomach was only just registered, almost forgotten, but it felt right, compounded with the ghost sensation of Ame’s hand when she heard their bottle of lube’s cap pop open. Gigi kept her eyes closed, mouth on Ame’s, breathing in her air and rasping her tongue over Ame’s teeth. When Ame’s nose bumped into Gigi’s still tender one, she let Ame swallow the whimper, trusted her with her softness, fed another small bit of herself into Ame’s ribcage so that she’d know that she was always there, right next to the intake valves of her heart.
Her hips jumped into Ame’s touch, the wet schlick of lube on silicone sending shivers up her spine.
“You preparing me?” Gigi gave a lazy grin, lips swollen and hair plastered to her forehead, the two toned locks tumbling over her shoulders.
“Oh, all that I do for my husband without a thank you,” Ame teased, dug her thumb into the tip of the cock and watched Gigi swallow heavily as her eyes traced the action, pupils blown out wide.
“Thank you,” Gigi breathed. She shifted carefully, from on Ame’s lap to between her thighs, a hand on the small of her back to guide her down, another rubbing the muscle on Ame’s hip as she guided her legs around her waist. “Thank you.”
She wrapped her hand around herself, one stroke, two strokes, deemed it wet enough, though one glance at Ame’s cunt made it pretty clear it wasn’t all that necessary. “Thank you,” murmured into Ame’s breastbone. Gigi notched the head of her cock into Ame, pressed in with a smooth glide of her hips and a choked out “Thank you” into the underside of her jaw, right at her neck, at the tender milky white skin there.
It became her mantra. Whispered into Ame’s ear as she worked her ways, moaned as Ame rocked back up into her in desperate movements that betrayed her want. Punched out of her when Ame began muttering utter filth into her ear, licking at the rim and telling her-
“What a good husband,” Ame’s back arched when the head of the dildo brushed a particularly sensitive spot, and Gigi’s core burned as she tried to replicate the motion again and again. “So good, fucking me so well, ‘m so full, s’good, my husband, my boyfriend, s’good to me-”
“Am I getting demoted?” Gigi asked, biting at Ame’s shoulders, letting Ame tug her head back until her neck was a vulnerable curve, groaning as Ame returned the favor and left a nasty mark or two on the length of it. “Husband or boyfriend?”
“Whatever I want,” Ame hissed, demanding, eager, nails raking down Gigi’s back in a sting that had the coil in Gigi’s stomach winding tighter and tighter, still unsatisfied from when she had first put her mouth on Ame that night.
“Whatever you want,” Gigi agreed, and ignored the cramp in her side to shift into short, jackrabbiting thrusts that had Ame shutting up entirely, hiccuping out moans as her legs tightened around Gigi’s waist, palms pressed to Gigi’s shoulder blades and pressing her tightly to Ame’s chest.
“Love you,” Ame mewled, “love you, lo’ you,” she devolved from there, gorgeous and writhing on Gigi’s sheets, until Gigi couldn’t take it anymore and worked her hand out from under Ame, shoved it down her boxers until she felt her own throbbing warmth and rubbed artlessly, ferociously, mouth right by Ame’s chin, one breath, two breaths, three, then she was coming too, enough to white out her vision and kill her hearing for a moment, sharp pants forced out of her as her hips rocked into her hand once, twice.
Ame squirmed underneath her at the added sensation of Gigi’s cock pressing in again, now uncomfortable, so Gigi slowly drew out of her, mindful, even as her own core burned and her nose throbbed and her hand was uncomfortably damp with her own slick. The harness was thrown to the side carelessly, Gigi nestling into Ame’s side still struggling for breath.
“God,” Ame breathed after a moment of silence. The faint thrum of cars passing outside mixed with the low buzz of streetlamps. A dog barked and someone shouted. Someone was cooking something, late at night, and it smelled good. The popcorn scent still lingered in the apartment. The bedroom’s air was dense with sex and heat and a domesticity that threatened to collapse Gigi’s ribs inwards if it weren’t for the hand running up and down Gigi’s spine. “You were fucking me like you were trying to get me pregnant or something.”
Gigi stiffened. Ame’s eyes flicked down to her before her mouth curved into a pleased smile, nothing judgemental, merely noting, observational, slipped into a back pocket to be whipped out right when it was sure to render the poor, poor Gigi Murin into a puddle of horniness and embarrassment.
“Mmkay,” Ame nosed into Gigi’s brow, a tender kiss there before holding onto her tight, eyes closed and breathing evening out. “I’ve got some things I want too, then.”
Gigi smiled a very small, secretive smile, pressed into Ame’s cheek. She threw a leg over Ame’s side, wrapped an arm around her, settled in with as much of her skin touching Ame’s as she could manage. Whatever the wife wanted, the wife gets.