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femslashficlets2019-10-23 08:10 am
ilthit) wrote in femslashficlets2019-10-23 08:10 am
Entry tags:
[Literature] Foreign Design (Original)
Title: Foreign Design
Fandom: Original
Characters/Pairings: Prudence Gao/Violet Holmes
Rating: explicit
Words: 200
Prompt: Stand and face me, my love, and scatter the grace in your eyes. Sappho
Summary: Violet is always in control.
“Don’t.”
Pru knew she should stop right there. Legally, morally. It took everything in her to still her hand, rest it on Violet’s hip.
They stood like a tableau in Pru’s hallway, Violet’s forehead pressed against the mirrored surface of Pru’s coat closet, her hand on the handle. Swedish design. American money. Violet’s bare thighs under that hitched-up skirt.
Pru bit her tongue to keep from moaning Violet’s name, begging her to stay. She could bite her tongue ‘til it bled, it wouldn’t be any use. “Anything,” she whispered. “Please.”
“Anything?” Violet shifted, pressed back against Pru, her hair whispering across Pru’s shoulder.
“If you stay.” And to hell with everything else, if she could only have Violet. She quietly willed her to turn, to kiss her, to tell her everything was all right.
Violet smiled. Pru could see it in the reflection, distorted, upside down. Then she took Pru’s hand and guided it down and up, under her skirt. She felt the warmth of her, the touch of rough hair under the thin synthetic fabric of her panties, and want screeched inside her. “Fuck me right here, then.”
That moan worked its way out of her throat after all.
Fandom: Original
Characters/Pairings: Prudence Gao/Violet Holmes
Rating: explicit
Words: 200
Prompt: Stand and face me, my love, and scatter the grace in your eyes. Sappho
Summary: Violet is always in control.
“Don’t.”
Pru knew she should stop right there. Legally, morally. It took everything in her to still her hand, rest it on Violet’s hip.
They stood like a tableau in Pru’s hallway, Violet’s forehead pressed against the mirrored surface of Pru’s coat closet, her hand on the handle. Swedish design. American money. Violet’s bare thighs under that hitched-up skirt.
Pru bit her tongue to keep from moaning Violet’s name, begging her to stay. She could bite her tongue ‘til it bled, it wouldn’t be any use. “Anything,” she whispered. “Please.”
“Anything?” Violet shifted, pressed back against Pru, her hair whispering across Pru’s shoulder.
“If you stay.” And to hell with everything else, if she could only have Violet. She quietly willed her to turn, to kiss her, to tell her everything was all right.
Violet smiled. Pru could see it in the reflection, distorted, upside down. Then she took Pru’s hand and guided it down and up, under her skirt. She felt the warmth of her, the touch of rough hair under the thin synthetic fabric of her panties, and want screeched inside her. “Fuck me right here, then.”
That moan worked its way out of her throat after all.