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Baran Al-Hashimi x Fem Reader

a/n - I took a long hiatus but I’m back and should be writing more often - Thank you guys for the response to my first fic, and this will be my second one ever written so please be honest!

This fic is inspired by the GIF above! (sourced from The L Word: Generation Q)

(wlw explicit)

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Baran is incredibly focused, looming over the stove in a dark red tank-top and comfortable lounge pants. You sit quietly and admire her as she intently stirs and seasons the vegetables cooking in the steaming skillet beneath her. You get up, approaching her slowly and wrapping your arms around her waist. She relaxes into your embrace, sighing quietly. “You’re always so tense, B.” you whisper softly. Her hands squeeze yours placed over her stomach.

“I know.. but you know just with my hours I-“ She pauses as you cut her off. “Baby. I understand, but you don’t relax when you are actually home with me. You’re always cleaning everything or thinking about work.” She sighs deeply, turning to face you, her large deep eyes trailing down to the floor. She cups your face tentatively, frowning slightly. “I want to do better, honey. I do.” She admits genuinely, her gaze soft and understanding. “…And I will do it on my own terms, understand?” She adds firmly, backing you against the island. She gives you a look, the look.

Your face flushes as you feel her hands on your hips, sliding under your shirt and running up your sides as she makes you melt just with her eyes. She does not hesitate to flip you around, pressing your front and stomach against the counter. You feel her lips on your neck, unable to keep in the faint whimper that escapes your lips. “Does this count as me relaxing?” she teases in a low tone. You feel her rings clattering on the countertop near you as she takes them off, her hand slipping into your shorts. Her free hand holds you against her while she pleasures you. She rubs tight circles around your clit, kissing your neck roughly.

Your hands grip the countertop, your eyes shut tightly and mouth agape as moans escape your lips. She makes no effort to silence you, in fact she does everything possible to draw as many sounds as possible from you. Her free hand slides under your shirt, resting firmly on your upper stomach just beneath your bra, holding you against her. Her body feels warm against your back, her curls occasionally tickling your neck or shoulder as her fingers move skillfully between your thighs.

Angela Giarratana x fem reader

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explicit oneshot

a/n - This is my first time ever writing a fanfic, so if you read this - please leave feedback! Any criticism (constructive hopefully) is appreciated. Inspired by the gif above :)

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Angela has endured a long day of multi-hour livestreaming at Smosh, all she wants is to have some wine with her friends, hold her dog, Spork, and relax. She calls you, her partner, and a couple of friends of hers to come over. Once everyone arrives, you all mingle and drink cheap red wine sitting out on Angela's patio. It's a nice, decently warm summer evening, and you sip your wine, listening to Angela ramble about the current show she's watching.

After a bit, everyone leaves, the sky turning a lovely golden as it gets later. Angela looks at you, smiling softly. "I'm really glad you came, y'know? Hanging out with my friends, I mean.. not just us, one-on-one," she says appreciatively, her fingers playing with your rings as she holds your hand. "Of course, Ange. You know I wouldn't miss this. Plus, I actually like your friends," you say. She smirks slightly, looking at you. "Yeah?" she says, her smirk becoming a grin. "Mhm." You hum softly, the energy between you two changing, exchanging looks back and forth.

She slowly climbs on your lap with a quiet sigh, straddling you, setting her wine glass aside, her hands resting on your chest, her fingertips right over your collarbones. She runs a hand through her hair, fixing it as she looks down at you. She leans down, one hand cupping your cheek, and she kisses you passionately. You pull away slightly, "Ange?" you say quietly, "Yeah?" she replies, pulling away and looking at you to make sure you're okay, your faces inches apart. "Maybe we should take this inside? What if one of your friends comes back because they forgot something?" I say, but she quickly disregards me. "Don't worry about that, okay? Just relax, baby. I got you," she replies.

She kisses you again, slower this time, her hands exploring your body. The birds chirping around you and the now chilly air stinging your skin are fading away. All you can feel, think of, is her lips on yours.. her hands going lower and lower on your body. She kisses down your jaw, and her lips descend your neck, making sure not to leave any marks. A moan escapes your lips, and you feel her smirk against your neck.

Your hands run through her short brown hair, relishing in how rough and dexterous her hands are, touching you in all the right ways somehow. There's a certain familiarity, her hands tracing each curve with experience. She pulls your shirt off your head, kissing you again while her hands caress your sides gently, occasionally squeezing them.

You feel her hands on your hips now, her thumbs swiftly sliding into the waistband of your shorts. The slight rasp in her voice partially snaps you out of your dreamy haze, her tone gentler than usual, "Is this okay?" She asks you, her eyes on your face. She waits for your response before moving. "Please." is all you say, and she understands. Her hands pull them down swiftly, and she repositions, kneeling before you.

She takes her time, her slightly rough hands squeezing your thighs while she showers kisses on your inner thigh while looking up at you. She runs her fingers along the hem of your tight boxers, pulling them down. She spreads your legs, looking up at you, the look on her face almost makes you melt, desperation mixed with unspoken authority.

You nod, simply, your fingers tangling in her hair. She dives in, her head disappearing between your thighs. Your head falls back against the reclined chair, a gasp falling from your lips. She glances up at you, checking in and enjoying your reactions. Her tongue darts up from your entrance to your clit, sighing in pleasure, your thighs tightening around her head. You look down, her eyes closed, hands squeezing your thighs. You hear her moan softly against your core. She picks up the pace, sucking on your clit. You grow more vocal, but you remain mindful of the fact that anyone could return or catch you. She knows you're close, trying her best to get you there. With her skilled tongue, she drives you over the edge. You moan out her name, your grasp on her tightening, back arching slightly.