#Balalaika (Black Lagoon) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ohbrotherthisblogstinks · 10 months ago

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ balalaika x fem reader

synopsis: your hot cougar girlfriend has the audacity to bring you flowers :0 warnings: 18+, nsfw, female reader, gratuitous praise (use of ‘good girl’, pretty girl, etc.), implied consumption of alcohol, oral & fingering (receiving), edging/teasing and overstim, rough sex if you squint, striptease, biting &marking other warnings: gratuitous smoking (cigars, cigarettes) because obviously, implied consumption of alcohol but no one’s drunk, y/n is needy as fuck and aggressively bratty, it’s implied that y/n has a past as a dancer, Balalaika generally being the absolute gigachad she is, and implied age gap bc shes cougar milf i love this woman <3

You were absolutely certain that everyone was watching you and internally laughing at your misfortune. You figured the two men chuckling at the bar and grinning at you were placing their bets on whether or not you’d been stood up. The sounds of indistinct chatter, knives and forks scratching against plates, and the clink of wine glasses were slowly starting to drive you insane. The sheer presence of the couples at the surrounding tables was enough to throw you into a rage. You shifted in your seat as you glanced at the door yet another time, agitated. Your date was never late, and it was making you even more bothered. Perhaps you just weren’t that interesting to her anymore, and the thought of this had you fuming.

It had been almost three weeks since the two of you had last spoken, as a trip overseas had required her attention. You were never happy to see her leave for business without you, as you usually accompanied her, and this time around resulted in a teary goodbye at the airport. She’d promised you over and over again, suitcase in hand, that she’d call you whenever she could, as you clung to her and cried into her overcoat. The only contact you ended up having with her was one choppy 20-minute call from a payphone.

The sound of the door and a gust of cool air from outside caught your attention, and you lifted your eyes to see her walking towards you, a rare wide smile on her face and a bouquet in her arms. She looked so unbothered, and it made your blood boil. You’d normally rush right into her arms upon her return from a trip, but instead you stayed seated, blankly staring in her direction. She shot you a confused look, but nonetheless leaned in to greet you with a chaste peck on the cheek, resting the bouquet on the table.

“I missed you, sweetheart,” she whispered in your ear, giving your hand a quick squeeze. You gave her a half smile and pulled your hand away, making her furrow her brow in concern.

“Is something the matter?”

“No,” you said flatly, looking away from her to take a sip of your drink.

“I’m finding that hard to believe.” She shrugged off her overcoat and draped it over the back of her chair. “What happened? Was someone bothering you?”

“I said nothing was wrong.” You continued sulking and avoiding her gaze, and you heard her huff in frustration.

“Well, I thought you’d be happier to see me.”

“I’m not.” You looked up at her, staring at her blankly.

Her glass hit the table with a loud thud, making you jump. She glared at you, and you shifted in your seat, absentmindedly twirling the straw in your drink around.

“You’re not happy to see me?”

You shook your head and slumped back in your chair, crossing your arms.

“And why is that, darling?” Her tone was beginning to frighten you, but you decided to continue playing with fire for as long as she’d let you.

“I think you know why,” you retorted. She scoffed and lit a cigarette.

“It’s a shame. I was telling the man at the flower shop all about how excited I was to see my pretty girl after being away for so long.”

“I’m sure you left out the part where you barely spoke to me for two and a half weeks.”

“Ah. I figured that’s what this is all about.” You glanced down at your hands in your lap, and you heard her scoff. “I know I told you I wouldn’t have a lot of free time, darling. Don’t you remember when I said that?”

“Yes, but-”

She prodded your leg with her shoe. “That’s your explanation, then.”

“Twenty-four hours in a day and you couldn’t give me a call for one?”

“I’ve already explained myself.”

You slumped back in your seat and sighed.

“You’re mean.”

She laughed, blowing a cloud of smoke your way, and you scowled at her. She snuffed out her cigarette and leaned in close to you. You drew in a sharp breath as she reached under the table and squeezed your thigh, hard, digging her nails into your skin and making you wince.

“Keep on being an ungrateful brat, and I guarantee that you’ll regret it later.”

The smirk on her face made blood rush to your cheeks, which you unsuccessfully attempted to hide by taking a sip of your drink.

She gripped your hand, almost painfully so, when she guided you out of the restaurant and into the ride waiting for the two of you. The wordless drive home was an indication that you’d definitely gotten yourself into hot water. You were still pouting, slumped against the door and shooting her a glare every now and then. You’d set the comically large bouquet down on the seat as a barrier between the two of you. She didn’t even look in your direction, and she stared straight ahead, tight-lipped, with her arms folded.

Upon arriving home she unlocked the door and all but herded you into the room, and after she hung up her coat and yours, she guided you over to her desk, her hand resting on the small of your back.

“Still pouting?” she asked you, raising an eyebrow as she sat down in her desk chair. You sighed, leaning back against the cool wood of the desk to face her. You felt her hand squeeze your thigh, and she chuckled at your stubbornness.

“Be a good girl and pour me a drink, will you?” Her fingers moved up your thigh to play with the hem of your dress, a pretty white silk slip that hugged the curves and dips of your body. She’d bought it for you on your first trip together a few years back, and she still remembered how your face lit up when you opened the box, how you kissed and hugged and thanked her over and over again, telling her how much you loved it.

You nodded and wordlessly obeyed her, wandering over to the cabinet of fancy liquor along the wall. You took your time picking out a bottle, and swayed back to her, drink in hand, still avoiding eye contact.

“I’m going to bed,” you said plainly, setting the glass down on the desk. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

You slowly turned to leave, but you felt her arms snake around your waist, and she pulled you into her lap, her grip firm around you.

“Do you plan to behave like this all night?” You felt her breath fanning against your exposed neck, and her hand moving up your inner thigh, making you shiver. “Or will I need to fuck the attitude out of you?”

You drew in a sharp breath and squirmed in her lap.

“All flustered now?” She brushed her lips against your neck, gently kissing your hot skin as she squeezed your thigh.

You whimpered and squirmed some more in her lap when she gently bit down on your neck.

“Ah~” you breathed as you felt her fingers brush against your inner thigh, toying with the lace of your underwear.

“Get up.” She let you go with a squeeze to your waist, and you stood and turned around to face her, timid as she scrutinized you with her icy gaze.

“Take off your dress and your tights for me. Put on a show, like old times.”

Your eyes widened. Your days as a dancer were far behind you but it was how you met her, after all. Once in a while she’d ask you to strip for old times’ sake while she looked you up and down, a smirk on her face as she smoked one of her fancy cigars. It always ended with you beneath her on whatever surface was readily available, unsuccessfully trying to stifle the cries she elicited from you.

You fumbled with the sleeves on your dress, loosening them and sliding the sheer fabric down your body until it fell around your ankles. You stood in front of her in your underwear and tights, your face even more flushed. You were barely able to look her in the eyes, so you stared at the ground.

“Keep going,” she ordered, and you heard the creak of her chair as she leaned back in it. “I know you heard me correctly.” You nodded and slowly slid your tights down around your legs, stepping out of them daintily.

“Come sit.” She gestured to her lap and motioned for you to come towards her.

You walked over to her and straddled her lap, and she pulled you in for a kiss, the first real kiss she’d given you since she left. Even though it had been years since you met, her touch still flustered you, making your face flush and your heart race like it had the first time she’d ever kissed you. You kissed her needily, almost feverishly, moaning into her mouth when she gave your waist a gentle squeeze and bit your bottom lip. Desperate for any kind of relief, you started to gently grind against her thigh, but she stopped you, holding you still before you could get any satisfaction. She pulled away from the kiss, and gently brushed a thumb against your bottom lip.

“Can you sit on the desk for me, love?” she said softly. You obeyed her immediately, shivering as the cold wooden surface met your bare thighs. You crossed your arms, suddenly feeling conscious of just how little you were wearing, and how the thin lace adorning your body left very little to the imagination. You felt your face grow hot again, and you looked down at your hands in your lap.

“Look at me.” She tilted your chin up, and your eyes reluctantly met hers. There was a wry smirk on her face, and it made your heart skip a beat.

“I gave you this set for your birthday,” she said softly, brushing her fingertips against the lace of the skimpy bra you wore. “It’s still your favorite, no?” You nodded.

“It looks beautiful on you.” She gently tugged at the pretty bow between your breasts. “You must have worn this for a reason.”

You found it nearly impossible to keep eye contact with her, and your eyes wandered back down to your lap, making her chuckle.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she asked you, teasingly. “ You’re acting like I’ve never seen you like this before.” She ran a hand through your hair and suddenly pulled you closer so your face was inches away from hers.

“Where’s all that attitude you gave me earlier, hm?”

“I-I’m sorry,” you squeaked, “I-”

“Seems you wanted this to happen all along,” she giggled, leaning forward to suck at the exposed flesh of your neck. You gasped as she bit down on the soft skin, trailing her fingertips down your body until she reached the waistband of your underwear. She tugged at the thin lace, helping you lift your hips to slide it down around your ankles.

“Lean back,” she said coolly, firm hands gripping your thighs and pushing them apart. You nodded and obeyed her, resting against the cool surface of the desk. You gasped quietly when you felt her brush her fingertips against your inner thighs, and she shifted closer to the desk.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you all the attention you want,” she whispered. You felt her fingers part the folds of your pussy, and you let a quiet moan escape your lips.

“So wet already,” she chuckled, gently sliding a finger inside you. “So pretty.”

She started to fuck you on her fingers slowly and sensually, making you writhe on the surface of the desk. Her pace was painfully slow, and you began to whimper in frustration. She smirked at you and continued her gentle pace.

“What is it, darling?”

“Nothing, I-“ you stuttered, leaning on your elbows to look at her. “I need more, please. Please.”

“More? But I’m already making you feel so good, aren’t I?”

“Y-yes, but I-“

“Be a good girl and take what I give you.”

You felt her lean forward to press kisses to your thighs, her warm breath fanning against the exposed skin and making you squirm. You whimpered when you felt her flatten her tongue against your pussy, and you sighed when she started to kiss your clit.

“I-I missed you, I’m sorry…,” you babbled, frantically pulling at her hair and grinding against her face.

“I know, sweetheart,” she whispered. “I missed you too.” You moaned again, louder this time, at the feeling of her fingers filling you again, and you writhed beneath her, grabbing her free hand and interlocking your fingers with hers.

You started to shake and your moans grew more desperate, and she pulled away just as you reached the edge, making you whine and huff in frustration. She chuckled and kissed your thigh.

“You didn’t think I would let you off that easily, did you?” she asked you teasingly.

“Please let me-“ You were silenced by her lips meeting yours, the taste of her fancy cigars lingering in your mouth and her cool hands cupping your flushed face.

“Patience, darling,” she giggled, resting her forehead against yours when she pulled away from the kiss.

“I just want to feel you,” you whimpered, looking up at her with pleading eyes and toying with a loose lock of her hair.

“And you will.” She continued to tease you, leaving hickeys down your neck and on your breasts, making you moan and tangle your fingers in her hair.

“Do you know how much I missed you?” she whispered, pressing kisses to the skin of your stomach. “I thought about you all the time, darling. I missed how you taste, how you feel, all those pretty little sounds you make.”

Your back arched off the table as you felt her tongue against you again, and by now your cries were frantic and desperate. You were almost certain unsuspecting passersby could hear you through the open window in the corner of the room, but you were too caught up in her to care.

After a while you’d lost count of how many orgasms you’d had, how many times you’d clenched your thighs around her head or her hand. You were flushed, panting, and practically sobbing, your back arching on the surface of the desk as you writhed while she held you down.

“I-it’s too much, please-“ you blurted out, grabbing her wrist and feebly attempting to tug her hand away from between your legs.

“Oh, darling, it’s too much? I thought you wanted all my attention, so why are you crying?” She turned your head with her free hand so you were looking her in the eyes. “I think you should actually be thanking me.”

The pleasure was so intense you could barely speak, and it was verging on pain. You squeezed your eyes shut, but she grabbed your face roughly this time, squeezing your cheeks and forcing you to look at her again.

“What did I say?”

“Thank- fuck! Thank you,” you gasped, tightening your thighs around the hand between them.

“Good girl.” She leaned in to kiss you and hush your cries as you were hit with yet another orgasm, sucking on your tongue and nipping at your lips until they were red and swollen and glossy with spit. She thought you were a beautiful mess like this, your chest heaving and your skin flushed and covered in her hickeys and bite marks.

“Clean me off,” she ordered, sticking her slick-covered fingers into your open mouth and nearly making you gag. You immediately obeyed her, your wide and glassy eyes fixed on her.

“Do you still think I’m mean, love?” she asked you, brushing the sweat and tear-soaked hair away from your forehead. You nodded once you caught your breath, making her laugh. She kissed your forehead and helped you sit back up, a gentle hand rubbing the small of your back as you sat in front of her.

“Are you all right?” She asked you, taking your hands and squeezing them gently. You nodded, and she pulled you in.

“I love you,” you mumbled into her hair as she held you.

“I know, darling. I love you too.”

You giggled as she scooped you up in her arms and carried you to the bedroom, where she laid you gently on the bed and sat beside you.

“Tired?” she teased, twirling a lock of your hair between her thumb and forefinger. You nodded and snuggled against her, laying your head in her lap.

“I’m not finished with you yet, darling.” She sighed and began to undo the buttons on her blouse, and your eyes widened. You really should have known better.

“Don’t look so surprised,” she teased. “You still have to take care of me, remember?”

You nodded, your face still flushed. She kissed you, taking your hand and guiding it over to the zipper on her skirt.

“Be a good girl and get on your knees.”

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