the day had started off so normal. she’d managed to corral paris into going to the farmers market near her apartment, they’d walked around and pointed at stupid things in the mid-morning sun, sipped at overpriced coffees. it wasn’t going to be anything other than two friends hanging out. . . until, nell noticed paris’ hemmed shirt showed off a tantalizing stretch of midriff and the top of their boxers, and paris noticed nell noticing, and everything seemed to snowball from there. they’d come back to her place and maybe they’d smoked a little around the back and now they’re on her bed and nell is whispering, “we can stop, if you want.”
@curseplay to nell: “oh, we've barely just started."
she huffs out a laugh, just high enough to shed her nerves. she’s hyper aware of the way her chest rises and falls, heart pounding against her ribcage, and it feels like her lips are already swollen. she’s quickly giving up ground to paris, finding herself further and further under them, despite being sat upright only minutes ago.
if there were a time to turn back, this would be it. nell makes a needy noise under her breath, lingering on the sound of their voice, syrupy slow gaze drawn to the gleaming dark brown of paris’ eyes. their hair is slicked back today and nell’s fingers itch to get in there and she wants a normal, easy time so badly. her clumsy hands come up to grasp at paris’ belt loop and nell pulls them down with her as she lays back. paris is laying on the long fabric of nell’s flowery skirt, bracketed in by both of nell’s knees, and one of her hands finally slides up into their hair. she does her very best not to wriggle around, to play it cool, but the warmth of paris against her hips has her breathless and insistent. “okay. show me what you’ve got.”