tight nuns

Bananun FanFiction - Give and Take

A few of you have asked for Bananun smut. Here we go!

Rated M

Mary Eunice’s ears perked as she stepped into her and Lana’s foyers, Apollyon panting besides her, winded from their run. She unhooked the leash from the dog’s collar and pushed him out of the way as she struggled with her running shoes. He nibbled her knee affectionatly and trotted away, tail wagging high in the air. She watched him with wonder in her golden eyes.

Another groan pulled her out of her reverie, and she smirked. Even from here (She did know everything, after all) she could tell that Lana Winters just hadn’t been able to wait for her. The blonde made her way up the stairs carefully, pausing to relish the sounds falling from between her lover’s lips, the soft gasps and pants.

The brunette had left their bedroom door open, almost like an invitation, but the dark eyed woman’s fingers stilled as Mary Eunice entered. For a split second, she stared back at the nun unabashedly, but finally she looked away guiltily, her hand trailing back up her stomach, her thighs closing.

“Looks like you started without me.” The blonde breathed. Lana didn’t answer, her nails digging into the flesh along her ribcage, her hips rolling despite the lack of stimulation. Mary Eunice let her jacket fall from her finger and down onto the floor before moving to the desk chair and sitting down. She crossed her legs and raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. “Please. Don’t let me stop you.”

Lana’s thighs opened and her hand shot down to her center, rubbing furiously as she chased the high she’d just lost. Another moan ripped out of her throat as she found it. It sent a shiver down the blonde’s spine. Slowly, Lana turned her head to gaze at Mary Eunice.

Her dark eyes, black with lust, bore into the blonde’s golden ones as her breathing began a wild pattern of gasps and rushes of air. “I’m surprised y-you don’t mind.” She managed to stammer, her back arching off the mattress, heels digging into the sheets. 

“Why would I mind watching you writhe and gasp while thinking of me?” Mary Eunice cocked her head to the side. “If I ever do, you’ll know something is wrong.” She sat on the edge of the chair, her fingernails making marks into the skin on her knee. “Scream my name, little devil.”

The brunette’s eyes closed at the request, her hips bucking into her own touch as her fingers flew faster. “Dammit Mary.”

“Just like that. Even when it’s not me touching you, even when it’s not me whispering in your ear-” The blonde had stood up and had slinked over stand at edge of the bed, fingers itching to touch the ivory skin in front of her. “-Even then you’re mine.” Lana shuddered and she threw her head back, her breath hitching in the back of her throat.

“You’re mine, Lana Winters.” Mary Eunice repeated.

“All yours.” The brunette echoed through clenched teeth. It took her but another few seconds to come, thighs clenching around her own hand as she hissed out Mary’s name over and over, tremors shaking her body from her head to her toes. The blonde watched avidly from above.

The nun licked her lips hungrily and parted Lana’s thighs aggressively, dipping her head down to get a taste of her lover. The brunette tried to push her away, not ready for the blonde’s assault, but Mary Eunice ignored her, tongue swiping between Lana’s folds, lapping furiously. She tasted like candy and sins and the blonde couldn’t get enough, she never could. 

She easily sent the reporter into another orgasm, one that had the brunette’s hand in her hair and tugging for dear life.

Lana fell back against the mattress, spent, her fingers shifting through Mary Eunice’s hair. “Oh Jesus Christ almighty.”

The blonde bit her inner thigh, none too lightly. “What have I told you about that?”

Lana groaned, scrambling to get away from Mary Eunice’s wandering hands. The nun followed her up and kissed her sweetly, tongue darting into her mouth, letting the brunette taste herself. Lana’s fingers suddenly grabbed onto the blonde’s hips, effectively shimmying her dress up.

“What are you-hmm-doing?” Mary Eunice asked, lost against the brunette’s lips.

“I’m going to make love to you. It’s been a while.” Lana replied easily.

“You know how I feel about that.”

“I do. And I don’t care.” The reporter cocked her head to the side. She added a quiet “I love you.” before kissing Mary Eunice again, softer this time, putting as much emotion into the touch as she had behind her words. The blonde let herself be pulled down onto the bed to look up at Lana.

The brunette smiled down at her and helped her out of her dress, leaving her in her underwear. Her mouth trailed from her jaw to her collarbone, sucking at the skin to be found there as her hand cupped a bra-clad breast. Mary Eunice shifted against her, hips rising on their own, silently begging Lana for something she didn’t know she wanted so badly.

They’d made love plenty of times before, they’d fucked just as much, but Mary Eunice hated giving over her power. About as much as Lana loved taking it.

“Relax, Mary.” Lana sighed against her skin, short nails dragging down her taut stomach. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes, of course.” Mary Eunice snapped. “That’s a stupid question-”

“Don’t.”

“Sorry.” The blonde squirmed. Lana smiled against her hips, placing another kiss there, leaving a mark that quickly turned into a hickey.

The brunette helped Mary Eunice out of her blood red panties, fingers wandering up and down her skin, sending the nun into a fit of shivers. She bucked her hips up, powerful thighs clenching around Lana’s head, and the reporter hadn’t even started yet.

Lana got to work, lazily flicking her tongue over Mary Eunice’s bundle of nerves, settling into an easy pattern that would drive the blonde crazy, but not over the edge. She received her desired effect, Mary Eunice’s left hand settled into her hair and her free fingers scrambled to find Lana’s as she breathed in and out, chest rising and falling almost cautiously.

Mary Eunice wasn’t one to make much noise.

Lana managed to keep the blonde down with one arm draped over her stomach, and so she took the younger woman’s hand in hers, letting the nun squeeze tight as her pleasure built, as her breathing quickened. Sure that she wouldn’t buck too hard, Lana trailed her fingers down to Mary Eunice’s center, introducing two fingers into her.

Mary Eunice breathed in sharply, keening softly despite herself as Lana found a comfortable rhythm against her. The blonde sat up, resting on her elbows, to look into the brunette’s dark eyes, mouth open as she gasped out, hips hitting back against Lana’s thrusts.

The blonde came hard, quietly, back arching off the mattress and into Lana’s touch. She pulled the brunette up to her, kissing her as she tried to get her breath back, her hands running up and down her lover’s body.

Mary Eunice moaned as she finished trembling against the reporter, her baby blue eyes looking up in wonder at Lana before steadily darkening back to gold.

anonymous asked:

Oh oh but I was wondering. When you tag something like the sleeve puff thing "Musichetta relevant" - how relevant to women-who-don't-have-a-rich-father is this stuff actually? Because often we seem to only look at paintings of very fancy things that not even rich people wore everyday, or caricatures that make the extremes even more extreme, and I get very frustrated by how difficult it is to find out about Normal People Clothes.

Aaa I’m SO glad you asked! This is a super good question and also something that bothers me about History of Fashion stuff SO MUCH oh gosh! Thank you for the chance to talk about it! (Though, warning: much necessary simplification and generalization below!) 

Okay, so Les Mis stuff first:  High Fashion stuff is definitely applicable to Musichetta!  Joly specifies that she dresses WELL.*  In the 1830s, as now, there were various ways for poorer women to make themselves look damn good– home sewing, second-hand shopping, etc, could all fill out a working-class woman’s closet somewhat. She might never be a fashion plate, but a woman who put effort into it could still look impressive.   And if she’s working-class then it’s possible, even probable, that she has less-fancy “work clothes” and finer Party clothes.  Fantine and her grisette friends had nice outfits in 1817, too– it wasn’t impossible! 

But yes, most poorer women mostly wore work clothes!  You’re very right to think that sleeve pads, hip pads, etc wouldn’t have been common for working clothes. Working women still had underclothes, of course!  Any woman who could possibly afford it would have had several chemises and a set of stays, at the least, and probably underskirts– chemises and underskirts kept sweat and other bodily fluids from staining and stinking up outerwear as fast, and put a layer between a body and the stays. And stays–or bends, creaks, or corsets– were (and are!) supportive garments, when not made for fashion. Think back supports and bracers rather than waist-whittlers– if you’re gonna be on your feet all day doing manual labor, you definitely want some support! 

Hugo gives us a solid description of working-class women’s Practical Clothing when he describes Fantine’s  post-Tholomyes outfit: 

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“She was dressed like a working-woman who is inclined to turn into a peasant again. She was young. Was she handsome? Perhaps; but in that attire it was not apparent. Her hair, a golden lock of which had escaped, seemed very thick, but was severely concealed beneath an ugly, tight, close, nun-like cap, tied under the chin. A smile displays beautiful teeth when one has them; but she did not smile.”