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lesbicosmos · 1 year

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day 4 of @chrisginnyweek !!

day 4 prompt: time

my interpretation: different time period au (medieval/merlin)

summary: ginny is the king's ward and chris is her maid, but there's something more between them. ginny suggests they go for a picnic in the woods and lesbianism ensues

notes: if you've seen merlin, here's my list of character parallels for this au:

ginny = morgana chris = gwen neil = arthur todd = merlin keating = gaius mr perry = uther (bc shitty father figures) charlie = gwaine knox = lancelot meeks = leon pitts = percival cameron = elyan then stick is a stablehand and all the horses are named after midsummer nights dream characters because i had to include that somewhere

also on ao3!!

we lay here for years or for hours

Ginny awoke to the bright light of the morning sun shining behind her eyelids as she heard the silk curtains being carefully opened.

“Good morning, my lady,” came the familiar cheerful voice from over near the window.

Ginny finally opened her eyes, stretching her limbs in her huge four-poster bed as she followed Chris with her gaze.

“Morning, Chris.”

This was their usual routine for the morning: Chris brought Ginny out of her deep sleep with her soft voice and the dazzling sunshine through the window. Then, as Ginny was fully waking up, Chris fixed the curtains and replaced any candles that had fully burnt. Ginny’s breakfast would always be on the table and her hairbrush would be on the dresser ready to be used.

As Ginny stood up from the bed, Chris left the room to go and get her clothes for the day. She walked over to the table and popped a grape into her mouth just as her maid came back into the room holding Ginny’s favourite dress. It was soft satin and a gorgeous purple colour with gold embellishments and a sheer blue cardigan. The dress made her feel like a princess, which she supposed she was, really. She lived in the castle with the King as her guardian, after all. A smile spread across Ginny’s face as she took the dress from Chris’s hands and went behind the changing screen.

“Can you help me with this fastening?” she asked after a few minutes, stepping out from behind the screen.

“Of course!” came Chris’s reply, and Ginny turned around so her back faced her.

Ginny felt Chris’s hands take the ribbons at the back of the dress and began pulling them slowly tighter. There was an odd silence between them as she did; not awkward or uncomfortable, by any means, just…odd. Tense, almost. Ginny felt her breath hitch when Chris’s hand lightly brushed her back as she threaded the ribbon through the loops to fasten the dress.

Once she’d finished, Chris moved over to the dresser to get the sheer cardigan, allowing Ginny to slide her arms through the wide sleeves. Then she stood directly in front of her, her fingers working on the cardigan’s front fastening at her abdomen. They were so close together, their faces only a few inches apart. If Ginny moved just a little bit further forward-

“Is there anything planned today, my lady?” Chris broke the silence, taking a step backwards and breaking Ginny out of the strange trance she’d fallen into.

“Chris, please,” she said, a soft smile on her face. “I’ve told you; you can call me Ginny. We’re friends, there’s no need for the formalities.”

She swore Chris’s cheeks became slightly pinker as Ginny sat down at her dresser.

“Sorry, my- Ginny. Is there anything planned today?”

Chris took the hairbrush and began slowly combing through her dark hair.

“Not specifically. Although, it does look like a fine day to go for a ride in the woods.”

“Of course. Would you like me to go and tell Neil once I’ve finished your hair? Or would you like the King to accompany you instead?”

Ginny lightly chuckled. Chris was always so focused on making sure she was doing her duties. Ginny wished she knew just how much she meant to her.

“No, no, Chris. Not with either of them. I’m sure Neil has his princely duties to be getting on with, anyway."

Neil might as well have been Ginny’s brother. They were raised together as children, have known each other practically all their lives. Whilst they do bicker sometimes, they’ve always been close. There was an understanding between them, but neither had exactly figured out what.

“If he ever wakes up, that is,” Chris laughed. “As I passed his chambers I could hear Todd having to practically hit the bedframe with a sword just to get him to open his eyes.”

“The future King of Camelot, ladies and gentlemen. I still can’t believe people think he’s going to be the best King the land has ever known.”

Chris seemed surprised at that. “You don’t think he will?”

“Oh, I think he will. With his kindness and ideas, this kingdom will prosper once he’s on the throne instead of his father. I just think it’s ironic that he’s still the same dramatic prince as ever.”

“He has always been one for the theatrics, hasn’t he?”

A memory flooded into Ginny’s mind, of her and Neil around aged 10, having been bought wooden swords by a visiting king. They snuck out into the courtyard in the night, playfighting and putting together a choreographed performance, which they showed the King the next day. He didn’t seem too impressed. He never was.

Ginny shook the memory away, aware that she’d zoned out for a few seconds.

“Anyway, no. I don’t want to go for a ride with Neil today.”

This was her chance to spend more time with Chris.

“I was wondering if you wanted to come?”

Chris’s eyes widened in shock, stopping the gentle brushing of Ginny’s hair.

“Me?”

“Yes, Chris. You.”

Ginny stood up from her chair, so there was very little space between the two of them once again. There were a few seconds where that tense silence returned and neither of them moved. Ginny wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t even breathe.

Inevitably, the moment ended, and Chris spoke.

“Are you sure, my lady? You know there’s been bandits hiding out in those woods for weeks now, I can’t protect you if something happens. Perhaps one of the knights-”

“Chris. I want to go with you.”

Ginny looked at her maid sincerely, trying to show how desperate she was to spend time with her. Chris didn’t seem against the idea, but the look of worry on her face was impossible to avoid. Ginny had an idea.

“How about we ask a few of the knights if they’d tag along with us, then? Just to keep lookout in case the bandits are still around. I’m sure Charlie, Meeks and Pitts wouldn’t mind a day in the woods, if we offer them food.”

Chris seemed to visibly relax at that, placing the hairbrush back down onto the dresser.

“Okay. I’ll go and send word to them, ask if they have any duties today.”

“Thank you, Chris.”

Chris smiled brightly and turned to leave the room, but Ginny spoke again just as she got to the door.

“If they can’t come…”

Chris turned around.

“It’s not like I can’t protect us.”

Ginny gave a quick wink, and she watched Chris look down at the ground as if hiding her blush. She nodded and left the room.

It was around an hour later when Chris returned to Ginny’s chambers. She’d managed to convince the three knights to join them, and had then gone down to the kitchens to fill a picnic basket with the best food she could get: bread, fruit, the whole lot. The basket was fairly heavy by the end of it, but the weight wasn’t the thing that made her drop it onto the ground as she entered the room Ginny was in.

Ginny stood by the window, focused. She’d put on the leather sword sheath she’d been gifted by Neil a few months ago, and was sliding her sword into it. Chris knew that Ginny was good with a sword, that was no surprise to her; she simply couldn’t get over how the sight of her with the weapon made her feel even after this time. She really shouldn’t have found it so incredibly…attractive. If she had to die by sword, she’d willingly meet her end by that specific one, she thought; then mentally scolded herself for thinking it.

“Chris, you alright?”

“Yes! The basket’s just…a bit on the heavy side,” she lied

Ginny walked over to her, opening the basket and seeing what was inside.

“Oh, strawberries! My favourite!”

“I know,” Chris smiled. “The knights said they’d meet us by the courtyard gates, so we’d better get the horses.”

Ginny nodded, and her and Chris both reached for the basket handle at the same time, their hands brushing for a moment.

“I’ll take it, my lady.”

“Please, Chris. I insist.”

Chris couldn’t argue with her. She took a step back and let Ginny take the woven picnic basket and walk towards the door.

“Going out?” a quiet voice called from behind them as the two women made their way through the halls of the castle.

They turned around to see Todd walking out of Neil’s chambers, carrying a freshly polished chest plate. Sometimes Ginny forgot that he was technically the prince’s manservant – they were so much closer than that, and it was clear to everyone who knew them. There were rumours about them, but only few knew that those rumours were true. Ginny and Chris had known for over a year, ever since they’d caught the two of them exchanging secret kisses in the armoury.

“We’re going into the woods for a picnic,” Ginny told him.

“You could join us if you’d like!” Chris chimed in.

As much as she loved Todd, Ginny didn’t really want him crashing their picnic. Sure, the knights were going to be there, but she’d make sure they were standing at such a distance that meant her and Chris would have some privacy.

“I can’t, sorry,” Todd said, and Ginny silently thanked him. “Got to prepare for the knighting ceremony tomorrow.”

“Of course. We’ll see you at dinner later?”

“Yep,” Todd replied, adding a quiet “have fun, you two,” before turning around and walking in the direction of the armoury.

As Chris and Ginny walked into the courtyard, they felt the warmth of the early summer sun shining down on them. It wasn’t too hot to be uncomfortable but definitely wasn’t cold – the perfect day. They walked over to the stables, where a blond stable hand was tending to one of the knight’s horses.

“Stick!” Ginny said as she walked over to him.

The stable hand turned around and gave a small bow when he saw Ginny.

“My lady, what a lovely surprise. What can I do for the two of you?”

“Could you ready our horses? We’re heading into the woods with a few of the knights.”

Stick nodded but then seemed to freeze for a moment and looked apologetic.

“I can ready Hermia for you, my lady, but I’m afraid Lysander suffered an injury a couple of days ago and isn’t quite back on his feet just yet.”

Hermia was Ginny’s horse – she’d had her since she was a child: a gorgeous black stallion. None of the servants were allowed horses of their own, but Chris had taken to Lysander a few years ago, and now she was about the only person he’d allow to ride him without knocking them off his back. He was a young grey mare, who currently lay inside the stable, one hoof visibly damaged.

“I can ready one of the other horses for you, if you’d like, Chris?”

Chris opened her mouth to respond but Ginny cut in.

“Nonsense. She can ride with me. That’s alright with you, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Chris stammered, slightly taken aback.

Stick gave them a nod then went to fit Hermia’s saddle.

“Are you sure, Gin? I can take one of the other horses, it’s not too much trouble.”

“Gin? That’s a new one.”

Chris’s cheeks appeared to grow redder as she realised what she had said.

“Sorry.”

“No, no. I love it.”

Chris relaxed, smiling.

“And of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t have offered otherwise. Besides, it’ll be one less horse for the knights to keep track of once we’re out there,” Ginny chuckled.

After a few minutes, Stick walked out of the stables with Hermia’s reins in hand.

“Here she is, all ready.”

“Thank you, Stick.”

Chris held out her hand for Ginny to use to help her mount the horse, then Stick helped Chris up so she was sitting behind her. Chris awkwardly put her hands in front of her, trying and failing to keep herself stable but not knowing what else to do with her hands.

“Chris, you’ll fall off like that,” Ginny laughed. “Put your arms around my waist.”

Chris’s mind may have slightly short-circuited at that, and it took her a few seconds to comprehend what Ginny was telling her to do and follow through with it. She did, delicately moving her arms forward underneath Ginny’s until she was practically hugging her from behind, their bodies flush against one another. Ginny took Chris’s hands in her own, pulling them tighter around her.

“There’s no need to be so gentle, you can hold on tighter than that.”

Soon, they were riding together across the courtyard to meet the knights, who were waiting for them outside the gates.

“Took you long enough,” said Charlie as they approached.

“We had horse trouble.”

“Right. Of course.”

They began riding through the town and out of the city, the forest surrounding getting thicker and thicker. The five of them all laughed and joked together; sure, they were all important parts of the royal household but beneath their sophisticated jobs, they were all just good friends. Charlie and Neil had become friends the moment they met when they were young boys, and with Ginny being so close to Neil already, she got dragged into the friendship, too. Soon enough, they were all teenagers and the boys had befriended the rest of the knights and they became one big group. Ginny loved them all dearly, loved spending time with them outside of the context of ruling the kingdom; but she not as much as she loved spending time with Chris. Sometimes they got too boisterous, and all Ginny wanted was to sit in her room with her maid, both of them doing each other’s hair and talking about everything and nothing.

Now, they were riding through the forest together, Charlie and Ginny and Chris side by side at the front of the group, and Meeks and Pitts taking up the rear.

“So what ‘important knightly duties’ have we dragged you three out of for this?” Ginny asked, an almost mocking tone to her voice.

“Just our daily training session with Neil.”

“Wow, he actually let you miss a session?”

“See, Ginny, we didn’t exactly want to miss it,” Pitts chimed in from the back of the group. “But Chris said you were offering food up, so…”

That was the easiest way to get the knights to do anything. Offer them food, or a way to disobey the king.

“Well, thank you, nonetheless. I may be highly skilled with a sword, but I can’t say fighting with one is exactly my intention for the day.”

Still riding beside her, Charlie was close enough to lean over and whisper a question only Ginny could hear. Luckily, Chris seemed busy looking around her at the beauty of the forest, distracted by a bird in a nearby tree.

“And what exactly is the intention?” He raised his eyebrows, a knowing smirk growing on her face. Ginny really should never have told him about her feelings for Chris. All he’d done was mock her – lovingly, of course, but still.

“Oh shut up,” was all Ginny could reply, subtly turning her head to check that Chris was still zoned out and hadn’t heard. She seemed to be. She had also, however, leaned her head into the crook of Ginny’s neck, which she as desperately trying to ignore. Chris really wasn’t helping her keep her feelings secret, was she?

After at least 15 minutes of riding through the forest, gossiping with the knights about the king, Neil and Todd and the other knights, and having such an intense fit of laughter at one point that all of them nearly fell off their horses, they came upon a small clearing. Wild violets grew scattered around the patch of grass and the sunlight shone through the gap in the trees. The battlements of the castle were faintly visible above the top of the forest.

“This look like a good spot, my ladies.”

It was the perfect spot.

“Absolutely. Now, are you three going to stay close?” Ginny asked.

“Yep. We’ll stand guard around the clearing, don’t worry,” Pitts replied.

“Maybe a but further into the woods than that, Pittsie! Give them some privacy, you know.” Charlie turned to face Ginny and winked.

Ginny could have strangled him. Not that she would, of course. She loved him too much for that. But she wished she could do it in spirit. She prayed Chris hadn’t seen.

As Charlie and Pitts began looking for a spot to keep watch from, Meeks helped the girls down from their horse. He took both Hermia and his own horse by their reins and lead them away to follow the others.

“Enjoy your picnic!, remember to save some food for us!” he called before he disappeared into the woods.

Chris set the picnic basket down on the grass, detaching a soft lilac blanket from where it was tied to the back of it with leather straps. Wordlessly, Ginny held out her hand and Chris handed her two corners, taking the other two herself and the two of them gently laid the blanket onto the ground, careful to avoid the violets that appeared to be everywhere around them. They sat down, Ginny cross-legged and Chris with her feet on the blanket and her knees up. She tried not to pay attention to the way Ginny was sat so close that her knee was brushing her thigh.

“Let’s get the food out,” Chris said, more trying to distract herself than anything else.

There was more food in the basket than seemed physically possible: all different types of fruits and sandwiches and other baked goods. Ginny reached for a strawberry, taking a bite of it, and humming in pleasure at the taste.

“These might be the sweetest strawberries I’ve ever had, Chris! Where did you get them?”

“Palace kitchens,” Chris shrugged.

“I’ve never had strawberries from the kitchens! Not ones this good at least.”

“I may have stolen them from what was supposed to be the king’s lunch…”

“Oh you little rebel,” Ginny grinned.

Chris had taken a sandwich and was slowly eating it, gently carding her hands through the patch of flowers right beside her. Here eyes seemed to widen with an idea.

“Gin, we should make flower crowns! My mother taught me how to make them when I was little, I could show you if you’d like!”

“That sounds like a brilliant idea!”

“I really want to make one with these beauties,” Chris indicated to the violet patch. “But you should make one with daisies. The stems are easier to work with.”

Soon enough, the two of them were sat opposite each other on the picnic blanket, two piles of flowers beside them. Chris picked two of the violets up, slowly demonstrating to Ginny the way to thread together each stem.

“You just keep adding flowers like this until it’s the length you need, it’s easy once you get used to it. I’ll show you how to close it off when we get there.”

Ginny nodded. If she was being honest, she was probably focusing more on the fact that Chris’s nimble fingers looked so pretty tying the stems together than on what she was actually demonstrating, but she got the idea.

“Like this?” she asked, after replicating what Chris had done with the violets on her daisies.

“Yeah, that’s it! Just keep adding them, now.”

They must have spent half an hour in content silence, just threading flowers together. Unbeknownst to each other, both of them had taken a few moments of that time just to admire the other person, watching them work, all the emotions showing in the look in their eyes. They had made eye contact a couple of times, and both had simply smiled at each other or giggled quietly. Chris was a lot further into her project than Ginny was, being much more experienced with the craft.

“The one with violets in her lap,” Ginny muttered, looking across at Chris with the bundle of perfectly threaded bright purple flowers lying on her knee as she struggled with a stubborn stem.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing. Just a line from a poem Neil told me about the other day. It fits you.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“I wish I could tell you the rest of it. It was written by an Ancient Greek poet, so we only have fragments of her works.”

“That’s…oddly sad.”

“I know. She was nicknamed the Tenth Muse, too. It would be incredible if we could read her full poems, know her mind even better.”

Chris hummed in agreement, focusing once again on the flower that didn’t seem to want to thread into the rest of the crown.

She finally fixed it in, sighing in relief.

“Can I check if it’s the right size?” she asked, holding it out towards Ginny.

“Of course,” Ginny replied, placing her work in progress down in front of her and lifting her head up.

Chris moved so that she was sat behind her, placing the crown on her head and checking the ends met at the back.

“Perfect,” Chris said, and Ginny could feel her breath on the back of her neck. She fought back a slight shiver.

“Here, I know you’re not quite done yet, but I’ll show you how to close off the crown.”

Chris held the ring of violets out in front of her, demonstrating the specific way of threading the final stem into the first.

“I think I get it?”

Chris grinned at her, then leaned forward and placed the crown onto Ginny’s head. Their faces were so close at that point, all it would take would be a slight push forward from either of them and they would be-

“Can I measure this on you?” Ginny asked, ignoring the thoughts in the forefront of her mind at that moment.

“Sure.”

Chris turned around so that Ginny could copy what she had done a few minutes before, holding the daisies around her head. Her hands brushed Chris’s hair in the process, and it was so soft. Ginny thought she would do anything to run her hands through it. The crown fit perfectly.

“It fits,” Ginny said, and Chris turned around to face her again. “How do you connect it again?”

“Here, I’ll help.”

Ginny expected her to take the daisies from her hand and finish it herself, but instead she held Ginny’s hands, guiding her to where to thread the stem. She was trying and failing to concentrate on what to do rather than the feeling of Chris’s hands on hers so softly.

“There you go. Finished.”

The two girls smiled at one another for a long moment, then Ginny reached up to place the crown on Chris’s head. The slight pink tint of the inside of the petals matched her blonde hair perfectly, and she looked like a living embodiment of the sun. One of the daisies in the chain hadn’t been secured in fully, so it fell across her forehead haphazardly. She still looked perfect.

They had realised they’d all but forgotten about the food, so Chris offered Ginny more strawberries, which she gladly accepted. Chris caught herself staring at the gorgeous woman sitting beside her, paying close attention to the way her nose scrunched up slightly when she smiled at the taste of the fruit; the way the late morning sunlight reflected off her eyes, making their green-blue colour shimmer like the ocean; the way her soft dark hair- oh.

In the midst of her staring, Chris noticed something in Ginny’s hair – some kind of tiny insect that must have crawled out of one of the violets on her head.

“Oh, Ginny, hold on a second. I think there’s an ant in your hair.”

Ginny laughed slightly, her eyes moving upwards as if to look at the tiny reddish bug. Chris, hesitant as she was, shuffled closer to her, her hand reaching up to gently pick the ant out of her hair. Ginny’s eyes fluttered closed the closer her hand got to her face. It took a few tries, but she got it out, setting the insect down on a leaf within arm’s reach of the blanket.

Ginny watched her as she did so, her hands so delicate as not to harm the ant. She saw her lips quirk up into a tiny smile once it was safely on the leaf. It was only when Chris turned back to face her that Ginny fully comprehended the position they were in, yet again. They were so close, even closer than they had been when they crowned each other with flowers; Chris lying on her side, propped up on one elbow, Ginny sat only a few inches from her, leaning back on her hands. She couldn’t think what to do: she didn’t want to move; she didn’t think she could; but being this close to her maid meant all Ginny could do was stare at her.

Ginny was sure her feelings for Chris were slowly getting stronger as time went on – it was definitely getting more and more obvious to those around them, that’s for sure. Neil and Todd both knew, and so did half of the knights (perhaps not Knox though, he was a little slow in that area). She honestly didn’t know how Chris herself hadn’t figured it out yet, especially now in this moment, where Ginny’s gaze couldn’t help but move to Chris’s lips, soft as they always looked, soft as Ginny had always imagined they’d feel against her own.

“Ginny?” Chris’s voice broke her from the moment, and she panicked she’d noticed her staring, and was about to say something that would mean they would never be the same again. Ginny quickly looked back up to Chris’s eyes, anxiety filling both her heart and mind.

But Chris’s eyes weren’t looking into hers. They were looking lower, at her lips. Her breathing seemed somewhat laboured, and her voice was barely a whisper.

“Strange request, but…” she paused momentarily. “Can I-“

Ginny’s mind was racing, but she knew what Chris was asking. Before she could even finish the question, Ginny replied.

“Yes.”

Time seemed to slow down as Chris moved forward slightly and closed the small gap between them, tiny gasps leaving both of their mouths as their lips connected. They were just as soft as Ginny had expected, as soft as she’d dreamed they would be in the many times she’d daydreamed this event. In the heat of the moment, Chris lost balance on her elbow and fell backwards so she was lying on her back on the blanket, her daisy crown falling off her head. Neither of them cared; Ginny simply followed until she was practically on top of her, the kiss deepening as a result of the change.

Eventually, the need to breathe interrupted their moment and Ginny slowly lifted her head.

“You taste like strawberries,” Chris exhaled, barely audible.

Ginny just laughed softly; It was the only thing she could think of to do in that moment. She was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to kiss her again.

“I’m glad I came on this picnic with you, Gin.”

“Me too.”

She leaned down again, her fingers finally able to brush through her silky hair. This time, Ginny pressed a soft kiss to Chris’s nose and admired the way her eyelashes fluttered slightly as her eyes closed, before moving her kisses elsewhere: Chris’s cheeks; forehead; jaw; sternum, just above her delicately sewn blush pink corset. Ginny seemed intent on kissing every inch of the other woman’s face, committing it to memory. If she had the time, or indeed the artistic skill, she would have spent hours painting her; recreating the gorgeous patterns of steel grey in her irises, the tiny, excited smile on her lips, the soft curls of blonde hair that fell over her face. She would paint it all, ensure she would never leave her mind for even a moment.

Just as Ginny moved her kisses back to Chris’s lips once more, there was the snap of a branch behind them, and they jumped apart quickly.

“Hate to interrupt this clearly incredible moment between the two of you, my ladies, but Meeks and Pitts have spotted a bandit camp about a mile north.”

Charlie.

“So, unless you want to be interrupted by an ambush instead, we’d best be going.”

“Of course,” Ginny replied, trying to ignore the embarrassment of the moment and comprehend the situation. “Could you ready the horses? Chris and I will pack up.”

“Of course, my lady.”

Charlie gave a small bow and turned to leave, but instead faced the two women once more, a playful grin on his face.

“Also, I thought I was promised food from this picnic for skipping an important training session to be here protecting you?”

Ginny thought for a moment, then lobbed a bread roll at him. It hit him in the chest, but he caught it nonetheless, nodding and leaving.

“Damn bandits,” Ginny swore under her breath, just loud enough for Chris to hear.

“You know,” Chris picked up her daisy crown and replaced it on her head, then moved to take Ginny’s hands in her own. “There are still no plans for the rest of the day. We could spend it together if you’d like.”

Ginny just smiled, pressing a quick but heated kiss to Chris’s lips before they began packing away the picnic basket and blanket.

The ride back to Camelot was oddly quieter than the journey there, likely because the knights had noticed the subtly different way Chris and Ginny seemed to look at each other, or the way Chris was much more comfortable sitting behind Ginny on the horse, holding her waist tighter.

Charlie leaned over to Ginny, whispering once again.

“Nice headpiece by the way. Interesting choice, violets,” he grinned at her knowingly.

“Shut up.”

Ginny couldn’t help the smile growing on her own face, too.

#when is it my turn to make flower crowns and recite poetry in a meadow with someone :((#also apologies if theyre slightly ooc??#i may have had them take on some of morgana and gwens personalities :')#anyway this is my fav one ive written and im probably gonna continue the au ngl #dps #dead poets society #dps fandom #dps fanfic #chris noel #ginny danburry #chrisginny #chrisginnyweek

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kuromiota · 11 months

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Danganronpa:

>none yet

Rain code:

>none yet

Stardew valley:

>none yet

Your turn to die:

>none yet

Madoka magica:

>none yet

General poetry:

>none yet

Rules subsection:

>no nsfw!

>no pedophilia/noncon

>no au content, I don't follow au's unless you can gimme guidelines

>I will write gore!I love gore!

>I write headcannons and whole fanfics!

> thank you!

#danganronpa #puella magi madoka magica #poetry #fanfic #rain code #stardew valley #your turn to die

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firewoodfigs · 1 year

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#an ex-colleague turned dear friend just asked to read my fanfic so I sent her a link to the college au and OH BOY.#the mortifying ordeal of being known AHAHAHA BUT ALSO FATE REALLY WORKS IN THE MOST MYSTERIOUS WAYS #ONE MOMENT WE'RE TALKING ABOUT POETRY AND LITERATURE #THE NEXT WE FIND OUT WE HAVE THE SAME FAVOURITE BOOK #(aka east of eden by John Steinbeck)#the next we find out I've been following her on Tumblr all this while AHAHAHAHA

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hoshigray · 3 months

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I love your work so much and it makes me feel a certain way <33 BUTT im here to request something that I've been looking for 🤞🏽

Toji x Fan-Fiction-Writer ! Reader? I'll get on my knees if required 🫶🏽

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐜(𝐤)𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!! | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You know, some things are just not meant to be shared, such as fanfiction writing. And how the hell did your boyfriend, of all people, come to be the one to question you about your hobbies? You tell me, you dirty little writer…

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem fanfic writer! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - the reader is mid/late 20s; Toji's in his mid-30s - humor - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking, sucking and swiping) - deep impact position - degradation (slut, whore) - use of "Daddy" title - praise + humiliation - spitting - cervix fucking - little bit of rough sex - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (baby, cupcake, good girl, mama, princess, sweetheart, sweetie) - aftercare; taking a bath together - usage of a phone; erotic literature/writing - Toji teasing you to no end, the bastard, lol - reader wears glasses cuz why not, hehe - mention of drool/spit.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k (bless up)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: bro. this idea cooked so bad, i just HAD to make a fic for it, lmao!! apologies for doing this months late, hope I did the prompt justice, and ty for loving my works~☆

“Nooo, stop, Toji, give it back!”

“Hold on, baby, hold on…Phew, who knew ya liked wrtin’ dirty shit like this? The fuck is ‘pet play—’”

“Oh my God, stop it!”

This had to be, undoubtedly, the worst day of your life.

If there’s one thing every human being on Earth has in common, it’s their love for the weekends. They’re amazing — have two whole days to retreat and relinquish the turmoil and stress after five days straight. They’re the days when you can choose whichever activity you want to enjoy your leisure.

Some people catch up on sleep, others watch a show or try to cook up a new dish, and some go outside and hang out with friends. But then there are those weekdays where it’s satisfying enough to spend your day inside the comfort of your home, delighting in a hobby.

The hobby you chose to indulge in this weekend was writing. And right at this moment, you regret it being the activity you selected.

Why? For one, it wasn’t just any type of writing, like journalling or poetry. No, no; if it were, things would be easier for you to deal with now. Nope, it was fan fiction writing. The type of writing you’ve known since middle school and decided to jump in and try for about a year. What started as a curiosity turned out to be a hobby that took up your infatuation to the maximum level: writing pieces every night, taking up requests from your following over six thousand followers, and serving as an outlet to project your fantasies onto the Internet.

What type of fantasies, you might ask? The type you read in a room by yourself or in the corner away from prying eyes, under a blanket with your phone exhibiting the dark secrets that corrupt your mind, or the type that only could be accepted on the Internet and not from the judgmental looks of those in the real world.

But, most certainly, not the type of fantasies you wanted your boyfriend to see!

“Toji, please, give my computer back!”

“Nah, hold on; I wanna see this…Oh, what a title; ‘Fuck Me, Rail Me, Use Me, Daddy—‘“

“TOJI, STOP!”

Perhaps writing fan fiction with your boyfriend occupying your apartment wasn’t the best idea. But you wanted to get a draft don’t by the end of this weekend, and you were almost done with it. You were typing up a storm in your bedroom, sitting at your desk while your man, Toji Fushiguro, was doing at-home exercises in your living room.

And you could’ve sworn you had locked your computer before going to the bathroom. All you know is that after flushing and washing your hands, you opened your bedroom door to a horrifying sight: Toji, sweaty from his routine in his sweats and wife beater, holding up your laptop that showed the exact draft that you were working on! No, no, NO! You almost tripped dashing to take the device, but the older man was too quick and effortlessly dodged your attempts while still reading the material. And now you know why you are hopping around your room trying to catch the man and stop him from reading more of your stuff.

Spoiler alert: your efforts were beyond futile, huffing and puffing in complete defeat on your bed. Your boyfriend was sitting beside you, still reading aloud while scrolling through your drafts, to your dismay. Your ears and cheeks harbored an unbearable heat that you could cry at any second, and you covered your face in case it were to happen. God, please kill me now!

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, how many of these shits have you written?” Toji inquires, his forest green eyes scanning every draft as if the list were endless. “How long have you been doin’ this?”

“For…a while.” You can barely muster the confidence to utter an adequate response. How could I have forgotten to lock my damn computer?!

“How long’s a while?”

“Uhhh, a…a year?”

The silence was pinching your skin enough, but you don’t know if you preferred it over the next thing he said. “Wow, who would’ve thought my sweet angel was a dirty lil’ thing writing filth like this?” Oh, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. You can practically sense the smirk on his stupid, handsome face, pulling the scar off his lip! And it hurts your being that he laughs at you grabbing a pillow to scream into oblivion. “What a horny minx.”

You removed the pillow to tell him off. “It’s not all my fault! Most of those aren’t even my ideas; some of my followers asked me to write—“

“Followers?” God, would it have killed you to shut up? “So you got people readin’ your stuff?”

Downcast eyes to avoid his surveying ones, “W–Well, yes…People like how I write, so I…..Write whatever they ask me.”

“Oh, wow,” raven eyebrows lift while looking at the screen, flipping through the notes of your drafts to your blog with your completed works. “So over a hundred freaks like how freaky you write.”

“Hey, d–don’t say it like that!”

“Oh really?” You didn’t like how he said that, nor when he pulled up one of your drafts to read. “… ’You spread your legs on instinct as she sucks on your chest, and the woman takes the initiative by sliding a hand down to your—‘“

“Stop, stop, STOP!” You sit upright and try again to take the computer away from him, but Toji swiftly moves to the bedroom floor. Fuck! It was hopeless, so you groan in exasperation. “Quit it, Toji; you had your fun, so give it back!”

He didn’t think so; finding something new about you made him curious to no bounds. And for it to be a bit of a suggestive side of you? Oh, how ashamed you were of him finding this out tickled him. “Damn, there’s so much on here…Have you ever written ‘bout shit we’ve done?”

You couldn’t believe he asked you that question — you couldn’t believe you were in this situation at all! Are you serious ”—ly asking me that?!?”

“I’m not hearin’ a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’” Now, this is just diving into a more profound level of embarrassment than you could handle. “Did’ya?”

“……………yes.”

“Wait, fr’ real?! Which ones?”

“I’m not telling you! Just give me my laptop—“

“Hell nah,” his elbow is strong enough to keep you at bay—how pathetic on your part being treated like a kid. “I’m curious to see what my lil’ sweetheart is tellin’ strangers ‘bout how we do our business—“

“I’m not telling them anything!!” You retort. “I-I just use our experience as a means of…references when I’m writing,” thumbs find themselves fidgeting together. “It…It helps when I don’t know how to describe a feeling, or….what it’s like during certain…..positions.” Was the room getting stuffy, or were you shrinking under the growing pressure of every word coming out of your mouth? Who knows.

“Is there stuff y’ve written before that you’d like fr’ us to try?” Oh, for fuck’s sake, this was too much, bringing your –his– hoodie up to shield you from this predicament. And it only worsens when he stares your way, having you close up the hoodie by the drawstrings and collapse to his shoulder. Toji chuckles at your routing self, wrapping an arm around you. “Can’t even be honest fr’ a second.”

“Toji, pleaseeee,” whining doesn’t help, the older man moving the laptop out of your lazy attempt to retrieve it. “Give it baaack…!”

“Nnm, nnm, don’t wanna,” he places the device away to the ground and takes your hand with his. “Now I gotta read what weird shit you’ve been keepin’ ‘way from me.”

You shake your head frantically. “Please don’t! Don’t you think you’ve tormented me enough today?”

“Now, why would I ever get tired of fucking with ya?” The smirk on his face is still present after you open the hoodie to sneak a glare. “Shoulda thought ‘bout that and locked y’r laptop screen.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole…” his laugh at your words only proves your point, and you bury your face in his chest. This entire thing was so outrageous. How in the world were you this dumb enough not to double-check to make sure your computer was locked from prying eyes? What an amateurish move! Not even your closest friends know that you write fanfiction, so to have your boyfriend be the one to not only find out but bombard you with questions about your secret hobby is nothing short of humiliating. It can’t get any worse than this…

…Or so you thought.

“Hey,” you perk up to look at Toji. “You said ya got followers askin’ ya what they want you to write, right?” You nod meekly, twirling your thumbs with the bottom of your shirt. “Show me some.”

Appalled, you gawk, “Wh–why would I—”

“I know you have favorites from the hundreds I’ve been looking at for the past five minutes. So, are ya gonna show ‘em to me, or am I gonna have to read every single one to find out?”He didn’t show interest in returning the laptop to you even after asking the question. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, baby; I bet ya can look it up on y’r phone or somethin’.”

Your pout deepens in defeat as you begrudgingly stuff a hand inside the pocket of your leggings to pull out your phone to click on an app. Your thumb clicks and scrolls for a few seconds before you peer to him and say, “…I do have some favorites.”

Jesus, it hurt to admit that to someone, especially with your him of all people, who is without a doubt getting an absolute kick out of this, the fucking bastard! This was beyond embarrassing; nothing could ever top this moment. Indeed, there is nothing else he could have done that could have made this predicament any worse than it already is. At least that’s what you tell yourself to cope because Toji’s grin on his face says otherwise. And what he says afterward makes your blood shift to ice.

“Why don’t ya read ‘em to me.”

Yup, you were killing yourself tonight.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Go on; read that short one fr’ me.”

“Ahh—…Hahhh, ‘Sitting here and thinking…about your faves…Mmmm.”

For some reason, this felt so. Fucking. Wrong!

You already knew it was a bad idea for you to read your works to your boyfriend at his request. However, to be fulfilling said wish in this manner? The mortification had your ears ringing a thousandfold.

How would you have foreseen this yourself, face stuffed to the pillow with your phone held up by your right hand with your legs spread up and your bottom propped up? Who the hell reads like this?! And on top of that, your boyfriend is alongside you, his body behind you. The inability to see what he’s doing arises uneasiness in the soul, quivers sneaking up as you feel the rough pads of his fingertips greet the skin of your ass after sneaking inside the oversized hoodie.

Breath hitches at the slide of your panties, coming down for his hands to grope the flesh wholly. “To..ji…” his name leaves in shakes.

“C’mon, baby,” you swallow thickly at the cupping of your chasm. Toji chuckles at the twitch felt on his palm, “Read it properly, yeah? Word for word.”

Oh, fuck, your brows trench together. “T…’Thinking about your faves pleasing you from behind. He knows he has to tease you a bit—Tmmm,” his lightly hits your butt. “‘B-By massaging your ass with his strong hands,” he does so, kneading your ass skillfully that has you involuntarily purring to his touch. “…’Keeping you still and relaxed so he can later feel you with his fingers and—“ his forefinger and middle slowly come from your clit to the entrance, biting your lips. “Nhhmm, hahhh.”

“Go on,” Toji scolds, the middle digit sliding up and down with a faint push. Your back quakes to the touch, fingers gripping the pillow. “What else is y’r fav doing?”

You inhale. “Mmmm…’and circle one of them around to warm you up—‘“ spit gulped down again when Toji’s digit did the exact thing as told. “‘And then, when he knows you’re ready for him, he sneaks them insi—‘ Aaaiiii!” His middle finger is shoved into your vagina, and your toes instantly curl before he pushes the rest ever so slowly. “Oh! Ohhh, fuck…’He…then comes to your shoulder and says to your ear to make you tingle…”

“…’Stay still, sweetie,’” woah. You were not expecting that; you were too focused on trying to read your words, and Toji bending to your ear to read his part wasn’t noticed at all. You only hope he didn’t catch the clasp of your vaginal walls around his finger (he most definitely did), hoping the soft chortle meant nothing. “‘Gonna let me make y’ feel good, yeah?’” Jesus Christ, his gruff voice relayed this so intimately to your eardrums that your heart was beating too hard.

Toji’s finger goes faster, nearly having you almost drop your phone. Your face smooshes to the pillow from the scrape of his fingertip, biting on the pillowcase as he puts in the other finger. He whispers to your ear to keep going; unbelievable…So you lift your head and try. “J-J…’Just thinking about how easy he could make you cum—Mmmph! Wi-With his fingersss…scratching and rubbing your insides so precisely until you’re practically begging to mess his hand up’…”

“Oh, fr’ real?” The perk of his tone makes you anxious. “Well, don’ mind if I do.”

The pace of his ring and middle finger increase, and you gasp sharply. The onslaught of rubs to your inner channel is enough to have your lower half writhe despite Toji keeping your legs grounded with his single one. Oh, fucking Christ, your glasses up to your smooshed cheeks the more you try to conceal your cries, proven to be trivial as the seconds go by.

“Aww, whaddaya think y’re doin’?” He coos with a kiss to your nape; you nearly shut down. His free hand takes your phone, “Tryin’ to hide that cute voice of y’rs from me? Fuck that,” he then removes his digits from your chasm as you yelp and makes you flip to your back. Oh, fuck no! Your hands go to cover your face—nope, Toji is quick to move them away. “Lemme see you, mama…Now, let’s see what else you should read fr’ me.” He swipes your phone screen, “This too wordy, this long as fuck—goddamn, baby; you writin’ whole ass novels or somethin’?”

“Shut up,” you reply as your legs move, and Toji’s left hand removes your undies.

“Ah, this one!” He hands you back your cellular device. Your eyes catch the first sentence, and your face morphs into dread before staring back at him to meet his grin. “Go ‘head,” he says cooly, spreading your legs by the knees.

“…’Picture this: your favorite coming to your room and seeing you on your bed and striding to you to taste you,” you inhale deeply at the blow of air on your wet southern folds. “‘He crawls up to you while you’re busy scrolling on the phone, busying himself with placing kisses to your stomach and down to your undies. He’ll then take them off and spread your legs for him, greeting your privates with his ton’—Ghhh…!” Toji licks your slit leisurely; you gulp at the muscle perching between the lips of your labia. “Hahhh, shit…’The smell and taste of you are so inviting he can barely keep it together, virtually inching to stuff his face with your pussy. He kisses it, lips petting your clit,’” he does so, and you chew your bottom lip. “‘Then his tongue goes excruciatingly slow to e-explore your folds,” your exhale is shaky as Toji’s tongue laps and swirls; fuck, I can’t do this…

The older man, on the other hand, flips a switch and goes to town. You knew this was a bad idea; if there’s one thing Toji loved doing more than fucking your cunt, it’s eating it out. He pushes your legs up by the knees for easier access, the angle perfect for him to propel his mouth onto your entrance. You shriek, his nose frequently grinding the hood of your cunt as his scarred lips and tongue suck and lick you feverishly.

“—Tahhh! Ohhhshit, no…!” You cry, throwing your head back to the pillow. “Ahhnn, Tojiii, stop…not too fast—Oooh!”

He spits, mixing his saliva with your slick as he laves. “Mmmph, shit, taste ’o good,” Toji pushes his face further as he sucks on your clit, and you nearly choke on your sob. “Yeah, yeah, let ‘em out; scream like a real whore.” You jerk, but his hands firmly keep you down. “Keep goin’, cupcake, finish y’r reading.”

“Khhh, God, I can’t,” you gulp when emerald eyes peer toward you. “…’Before long, he’s too overwhelmed by you that he can’t take it anymore, stuffing his face between your legs and having you cry out his name in prayers—your phone is no longer a priority.’” Jesus, you can hear his grunts along with the lascivious sounds coming from below; he’s so fucking turned on. “‘Now he has your attention, playing with your…pussy like a toy just to hear you squeak.”

“Fuck yeah,” he groans as he sticks his fore and middle digits into you. Fingers go to and fro frantically, and your free hand grabs his raven hair. “Christ, y’ sound so fuckin’ hot. More, gimme more,” a long and harsh kiss to your clit makes you want to arch so bad. “Good girl, good fuckin’ girl…”

You hiss at the graze of your vagina; keeping your eyes open is hard to do. Lips go agape, and your noises fly out with no restraint. Your legs tremble, impending in a wish to close from the curl of Toji’s fingers. Your senses become too keen, your nerves heightening with every massage of your walls, lick and slurp of your slick and clit.

“Ohooo, nhhmm, fuck, Tojiiii,” another suck to your clit has you grip the sheets. “Stooop, please; I’m gonna cumm…!”

However, your boyfriend has another idea in his head. “Oh no, you don’t, princess,” his fingers leave you hurriedly with a squeal. He yanks for your phone once more to find yet another piece of yours for you to read, giving you so little time to recuperate. Until he scoffs with a smirk, “Ohh, read this one aloud next.”

You take the device returned to you cautiously, scanning the first few words that catch your eye. Curiosity snaps to apprehension, “W-wait, no, please!” Begging won’t work, but it doesn’t hurt to try. “Please, Toji, look for some—“

“Aht, aht,” the click of the tongue shuts you. “C’mon, sweetheart, that ain’t what y’re callin’ y’r fav right now.” He squeezes your thigh, “What’s my name?”

“Toji, pleas—“

“Mm, mm,” he pinches you, a warning. “Try again.”

Excitement Nervousness flicker through your soul, breathing tardily as you muster to answer. “Sorry…Daddy.” The title burnt your tongue when it left your mouth, and the smile lifted Toji’s scar even more.

“Good,” he praises. “Now read.”

“…One of my followers asked about writing a post about deep impact, so it’s—“

“Deep impact?” He questions while spreading your legs. “The hell’s that?”

“I-It’s a, uhh,” you push up your glasses. “A position where you…kinda, like, sit on one of my legs and lift the other to your shoulder.”

Black eyebrows rise. “Ohhh, somethin’ like this, huh?” Sturdy hands find your ankle and lift your leg to his shoulder, and Toji then moves to have your other leg in between his. Your lips flatten when the groin of his pants—aka, the pitched tent–touches your hole. He whistles, “Oh, now I got a new favorite to add fr’ later.” His words aren’t meant to jest, so you frown as he snickers. “Alright, what did you write for this?”

You lick your lips; why? Toji uses his free hand to bring his sweats down, not surprised by the lack of underwear as his erection springs out. His cock is standing and ready for you, the precum oozing out alluring your eyes and your lip bitten by excited teeth. Of course, your vagina is clenching to a void—anticipation is a hell of a drug affecting your entire figure.

“Don’t get too distracted, mama,” he caught you eyeing him, lifting the hem of his wife’s beater to bite down on. Your ears and cheeks scorched at the sight of his abs and torso. “Read those words.”

Your gaze flickers to your phone while Toji lines his dick to your entrance, a gulp at the kiss of his glans and your inner labia. “…’Daddy has you propped in a deep impact, a position catered to mutual pleasure and closeness. He taps you with the tip to have you excited, then slowly pushes himself into your—Mmfff!…y-your warmth,” reminding yourself to maintain a steady breath; Toji pushes his cockhead into your slick as you’re distracted. A few seconds fly by, and he slips right in; a gasp exiting your puffy lips indicates so. “‘H–He gently shoves every inch and stretches you out,’” his girth is lethal, your eyes rolling up the further his tip goes, scrapping your texture and your opening suiting for his length. “‘A-And, it feels so good to have him making you full and good’—Hoohh?!?”

That’s it, that’s what you were anxious about—you felt the jab of his tip on your cervix. You freeze instantly, too shocked to breathe as the hit was spontaneous. Your body locks down for a quick second to process what happened.

Toji notices your tightened grip and hisses, “Fffuuckin, shit…! So tight,” his hips go sluggish, and you feel his veins and shaft brush nicely with your insides. You sneak a glance at his flashed abdomen; the flex of his abs as he pushes his pelvis in waves is a sight to see–enough to put you in a trance.

You continue. “‘His hip work is pleasuring, having you wail and cry out f-for more…the sensation of Daddy’s dick venturing inside and hitting your sweet spots is enough to make your toes curl—Nhhaaa…”

He can sense you gripping on him more; fuck, it feels so good. His thrusts go a little faster, forming a minimal medium. You exhale through your nostrils at the change of pace, and grazes against your walls become periodic and long-lasting the deeper he goes.

“Daaah, ahhh, f-fuuck,” you whimper aloud. “Tojiii, y’ feel so g—Nnnmm!?!“ You nearly swallow your tongue from the sudden pound of him, the rub of your G-spot too abrupt to predict.

“Who?” God, you know he’s getting a good kick out of this, the fucker. He pushes his cock to the hilt, and it takes everything in your power not to babble from the overwhelming intensity.

“Daddy, daddyyy, don’t…!” Correcting yourself as his fingers dance around your unattended clit. “I’m sorry, you just feel so good..”

That’s more like it. “Good girl,” he bends closer, his knees spreading further apart. He pushes the leg on his shoulder so that the angle is plausible for him to rut harder. You shriek and squirm to his enjoyment, “Keep readin’.”

“‘Y-…You’re cries become more shameful the harder and faster he goes,” Toji stimulates for a harsher pound; another hit to your cervix has you winded. Despite your gasping for air, he doesn’t relent, and you jerk to undulate to another poke. “Sh-shiiit, Jesusss…! ‘He pistons so hard, so deep, it’s difficult even to think straight when all you can think is—‘“ a choked sob from a slow pull before a devious snap of the hips. “A-All you c–an think…Ahahh!” Another nudge to your G-spot; this is so hellish!

The culprit scoffs softly. “Think ‘bout what, baby?” He swipes and pinches your clit to have you jolt and whine. “Tell Daddy the rest.”

Fuck, I can’t take it anymore! The phone slips your hand, barely missing your head. “Daddyyy, I can’t!”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Another pinch to the bud pairs with a poke to your delicate womb. Oh, he’s such a dick! “Don’t wanna read fr’ me?” He chuckles aloud at you shaking your head ‘no’. “Why’s that?”

“C-Cuz, if you keep going, I’ll,” a head thrown back at another nip on your clitoris. “Ahh, I-I’ll…!” Shit, you can feel it, the climb rocking your bones to entail your soon climax.

“What? Ya wanna cum on Daddy’s dick instead of readin’ like a sweetheart,” don’t believe the words; his faux disappointment doesn’t match the merciless thrusts and the devilish grin. “Wanna act like a whole slut and cum on me?”

“Yesss, yes, pleasee!!” You don’t care anymore; you want to let it out. “Please, Daddyyy, I wanna cummm!!”

“Heh, what a nasty girl you are—Nnnmm! Fuck, just milkin’ me dry, beggin’ fr’ it, huh?” The same fingers he used to play with your clit come to your lips to shove inside, forcing you to taste yourself. “Go ‘head, mama; let y’rself go, be the slut you really are…Hahhh, shit, c’mere,” he grabs for both your wrists with his free hand after taking off your glasses and propels you towards him at the same time as he pounds. Holy fuck, this position was getting rougher, pulling you in and hitting your cervix with accurate hits that you’re whining and twitching. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck! It’s too much, it’s all too much to bear, so it’s no wonder you climax in seconds.

You cry with the breach of your crescendo, your inner muscles contracting around the cock, hitting your womb. Your nerves are now peaked as the air is sensitive to your skin, and you feel so out of breath, everything happening all at once that you can’t keep up as you thank Toji in babbled prayers, still sucking on his fingers as your vagina flutters and coats him of your essence.

“Good job, cupcake,” he comes closer and removes his digits. “Can’t beat the real thing, right?” He cups and massages your cheeks before spitting into your mouth.

You don’t even flinch, too fucked out to even care, just moaning to his lips as he brings you in for a passionate kiss as his hips keep going until he’s done and satisfied…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Ughhh, I can’t believe I just did that…”

“Pfft quit whinin’. Don’t act like ya didn’t enjoy it.”

“I hate you so fucking much, you know that?”

“Whatever y’ say, Ms. Novelist.” You grumble at the name before he brings the washcloth to wipe down your neck.

You and Toji were now in the bathroom, your nude bodies squished together, with the warm water cleansing you both. Hair and skin damp, your back meshed to his front as you sit between his legs. The soft yellow lighting basks the bathroom with a warm glow as you two bathe in relaxation, a needed state after the excitement prior.

You snatch the washcloth before Toji wipes your face clean off. “Why did you have to be so nosy, looking at my laptop for what?” You wipe his arm that rests on the rim of the tub.

He rolls his eyes, knowing he’s in for a lecture. “Well, if ya didn’t want me to see, shoulda locked the shit.”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re nosy as hell! Could’ve just looked somewhere else or left the room!”

“Hmph, well, when you see the words ‘Down and Dirty’ all bolded and big and see another tab with a pic of a rimjob, who wouldn’t stop—“

“Okay, okay!” It would be best if you threw the cloth at him for chortling; such an indecorous personality for someone supposedly older than you. “You’re insufferable.”

“Right back at you,” he whispers to your ear and kisses your cheek. You sigh softly from his lips, resting your head on his shoulder while he pecks your chin. The hand in the water finds your thigh to grope and massage, and you moan at the touch and unwind.

Tranquility fills the cozy space between you two as the silence settles in, the humid air comforting to your nose and eyes, and the drip of the faucet plucking into the tub water is a soothing sound to cajole you into a dormant plane.

However, even when relaxing, it doesn’t stop the bothersome feeling of asking Toji something. And where better than with you in his secure embrace? “Toji,” his name has him open an eye to look your way. “You don’t think I’m…weird, don’t you?”

He raises a brow. “Explain.”

“Like, don’t you find it weird that me, your partner, indulges in hobbies that are…you know, like that,” now your eyes trail away from his gaze. “Writing about fictional fantasies and such, looking up erotic material and stuff…”

A few seconds fly as he scoffs. “Baby, I’ve been lookin’ at porn way before I met you—“

“Th–That’s not what I meant??”

“Besides, it’s nothing more than just writin’ shit that doesn’t exist. Hmm, if anything, now I know y’re just as big of a pervert as I am.”

Anxiousness transitions to peeve. “You are so—“

“Do you like what you do?”

The question takes you aback; the immediate serious tone switch wasn’t expected. “…I..yeah.”

“Are ya hurtin’ anyone?”

“No…at least I don’t want to.”

“Are ya hurtin’ y’reself?” You see what he’s doing, the glint shining from his viridian orb.

“No. I…like this hobby.”

Finally, a small smile contorts that scar of his. “Then I don’t mind it. It’s what ya like to do, so do whatever, sweetie.” He comes to kiss your nose and rest his forehead with yours. “I like ya bein’ a lil’ weird anyway.”

“Jackass…” And there you go, falling in love with him again. You cup his cheek, kiss the other, and repose onto his shoulder with a blissful sigh.

“Now,” you blink back to him. “Can’t lie, think you gotta start callin’ me ‘Daddy’ from now on,” like a scratched record, your heart stops, especially with his mischievous smirk. “Where can I read the rest of y’r stuff at?”

“That’s it,” you ignore his annoying bark of laughter as you try to squirm out of his hold. “Let me out of here, get me out of this fucking tub.”

“Haha, hey, quit it; y’re spillin’ the water!”

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lexalovesbooks · 1 year

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My problem is that sharing my writing always makes me insane

#the night before i have to pass out for a class/post if it’s fanfic i can literally NEVER sleep #too busy vibrating with excitement so strong it loops back around to stress #and my sleep schedule has already been fucked for weeks this is just making it worse #anyways we had to submit five poems to a classmate for our poetry midterm today and i’m actually really happy with most of mine?#i wrote one entirely last night and heavily expanded on two others i’d written snippets of a few weeks ago and it was like. really fun #i feel like i’m maybe getting decent at writing this kind of stuff which is awesome #i’ve never done poetry writing before this class lmao #ALSO!! completely different note but we finished our first book in my bookbinding class today and mine turned out so good! it looks like #a real book i’m gonna be obnoxious and shove it in the face of everyone i know

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randofanficrecs · 1 year

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From The Turn of the Screw - Galvin (2021) fandom we present - Ghosts by Skyuni123.

Chapters: 1/1 Words: 51 Fandom: The Turn of the Screw - Galvin (2021), Original Work Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Introspection, Poetry, Ghosts Series: Part 7 of 2021 One Fic Per Cinema Movie Viewing Language: English No Summery

#The Turn of the Screw - Galvin (2021)#Original Work #fic rec #fanfic rec #random fanfiction #fanfiction recommendation #fanfiction #random #random recs #fanfic #Introspection #Poetry #Ghosts

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that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction · 8 months

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Y’know that one scene in A Servant of Two Masters where Merlin tells Leon he’s off to kill the king and Leon just laughs

What if Merlin realises how much power that actually has and just starts telling Leon the truth instead of coming up with excuses

Leon: Hey Merlin, where are you off to?

Merlin: Just going to fight a gryphon!

Leon: ha! Have fun!

Leon: Merlin, why do you have highly illegal poison?

Merlin: it’s only poison mixed with alcohol, otherwise it’s just great sidhe repellent!

Leon, chuckling fondly: Alright, as you were then.

Leon: Merlin! Where were you?

Merlin: nowhere interesting, just practicing sorcery.

And Leon believes he’s just keeping the gag going every time.

Which also makes the poetry scene so much better because Leon is used to Merlin being funny, never giving proper excuses and joking about high treason crimes.

So when Merlin is so flustered that he blurts out poetry, the only possible explanation can be that something Merthur is happening and Leon wants no part in it.

It also got me thinking about post Camlan when Merlin and Arthur get back to Camelot (I’m in denial, shut up) when Leon finds out Merlin has magic.

He waits at the gates for Merlin with his arms folded looking like a disappointed mother, then Merlin stops and realises every one of his “excuses” came back to bite him in the arse.

Until Leon has to explain to Arthur that he’s known Merlin is a sorcerer for a while now, but always thought it was a joke because “it’s Merlin”

Merlin: in my defence, I never lied.

Leon: you confessed to multiple crimes!

Merlin: you let me get away with them!

Arthur: huh?

Leon: Sire, I can explain.

Merlin: can you?

Leon: can you?!

I’m tempted to turn this into a fanfic if anyone would want to read it

It’s out now on Ao3 - The One Where Leon Knowingly and Unknowingly Becomes an Accomplice to Treason

#bbc merlin #incorrect merlin quotes #merlin #arthur pendragon #sir leon #merlin emrys

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ilongfor-the-arts · 1 year

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Just read the museum marquis fic and I love it. I wonder what would a fanfic where the marquis de gramont met a ballerina reader?

Poetry in Motion

Pairing: Marquis de Gramont x fem! Reader

Warnings: mild language

Summary: A tall and handsome man has been watching you preform for a while. What will happen when he finally chooses to introduce himself?

Word Count: 2.5k

I got multiple reqs for this! So, here ya go! Enjoy!

“You’re late Y/N!”

I dashed into the locker room, tossing my bag atop the dressing room counter.

“I know! I know! I’m really sorry! My apartment door wouldn’t lock and there was traffic and then-”

My director held up a hand, silencing me.

“I don’t care. Please-just, be ready to go by showtime.”

I nodded vigorously.

“Yes, yes, of course. I will be ready, I promise.”

She quickly turned on her heels and began walking in the opposite direction. Her blue dress swayed gently as the dancers rushed around her. Her spine was straight, her posture rigid.

I don’t blame her. I'm just as nervous as everyone else to see how this performance goes. Unfortunately, I'm a dancer, so rigid posture isn't ideal. I'm forced to keep my anxiety bottled up inside my head.

“Y/N.”

My friend called my name, jolting me from my trance. She was fully dressed, with a full face of makeup. She stared at me, completely stunned.

“Y/N, you better hurry! Everyone else is ready to go!”

I moved rapidly, quickly opening my makeup bag, praying I had enough time.

“What took you so long?”

I slapped my palms against the table, annoyed.

“Oh, Clara, it’s been such an aggravating day.”

I stared at my reflection, watching as the foundation completely coated my face.

“Do tell.”

I took out my eye makeup.

“Well, first my apartment wouldn’t lock.”

I closed one eye and applied eyeshadow as quickly as I could.

“My key wouldn’t work! And of course I couldn’t just leave my apartment unlocked so I had to bother my neighbor to get the spare key I gave her.”

I moved on to the other eye.

“Then there was so much traffic. Then I couldn’t find a good parking spot because I got here so late. Then I had to walk almost six blocks.”

My eye makeup looked... alright. Sure, if I had an extra hour, I could make it look fantastic. But, due to my unfortunate situation, I had to settle for average.

“Wow girl, that’s rough. I’m sorry.”

I pulled out my blush.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think that cute guy will be here tonight.”

I scoffed loudly.

“He’s always here. If he goes four days without seeing a ballet, just assume he’s dead.”

Oh my goodness, that blush color was really clashing with my eyeshadow. Shit! I didn't have time to remove it and start over. Perhaps I could just add another color to my eyes, creating a strange hybrid color that would blend well with the blush.

“I don’t know Y/N. I’ve been here longer than you, and he only started going regularly once you got here.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, right. It’s probably just a coincidence. I doubt he’d spend a shit ton of money on fancy ballet tickets just to see some pretty girl dance.”

I watched Clara shrug from the corner of my eye.

“I dunno. He always dresses like he’s ready to meet the queen, and he sits in a box. He doesn’t seem short on funds. He definitely could be the type to buy ballet tickets just to admire you.”

Okay, the blush and eyeshadow looked fine. I could handle "fine." I could work with "fine.”

“I don’t know Clara. You know, when you watch a performance, faces and names blend together because there are so many people on stage. I doubt he picked me out of the crowd and decided I was going to become the object of his affection.”

I put on some red lipstick, trying not to be distracted by the fact that all the dancers I saw in the mirror were fully prepared.

“Besides, a handsome man like that?... he probably has a girlfriend.”

Clara perked up.

“Oh, so you admit you think he’s handsome.”

I rolled my eyes for a second time.

“I mean, come on Clara, look at him!”

Clara let out a loud and obnoxious laugh. My face turned hot. Thankfully, the makeup covered most of the natural pink that had begun to appear on my cheeks.

“Oh my God you have a little crush on him, don’t you!”

I held up my hands in defense.

“I am not having this conversation right now!”

I stood, rushing over to the costume rack.

“I’ve never seen him with a girl Y/N! I think he’s single and ready to mingle!”

Clara’s loud voice drew some attention. I swiveled on my heels and placed a finger to my lips.

“Sh!”

The show was finished, and the final bows were taken.

The roar of the crowd washed over me like a wave. I was moved to know that they were all applauding for this performance. As the entire company gathered for one final bow, I observed the crowd's faces contort into bright smiles. I felt moved knowing that at least one person in the audience was thinking about what a wonderful job I did tonight.

I hoped it was the man whose appearance I had grown accustomed to over the past few weeks.

The gold theater sparkled. The red seats gradually vanished as people rose to pay their respects to the performers.

I was unable to avoid glancing around at the various people in the crowd. I started in the box seats, hoping to spot a tall man with a penchant for fashion.

No luck.

My gaze was drawn to the floor seats. I scanned them all as quickly as I could. Maybe he sat closer? If he truly came to see me, it wouldn't hurt to get the best view possible in the front row.

No luck.

I'm not sure why I was so desperate for him to be here. Nonetheless, I felt my heart sink slightly as I considered the possibility that he missed tonight's performance.

We finished with a company bow. We waved goodbye, and quickly scattered off the stage.

“Y/N!”

Clara exclaimed as we walked back to the dressing rooms.

“You did so well! Jesus, I thought for sure you’d be all scattered from coming in late, but you really pulled it off well!”

I didn't notice her hands cutting through the air as she spoke. I didn't even bother looking at her. I kept my head down, stuffing various cosmetics into my black backpack.

“Thanks Clara.”

I said flatly.

“Alright, what’s going on? Who’s got you bummed?”

I grit my teeth.

“He’s not here tonight.”

Clara leaned in.

“What did you say?”

“I said he’s not here tonight!”

I snapped involuntarily. Clara retreated.

“Woah woah, how do you know this?”

“I didn’t see him in the crowd.”

Clara furrowed her brow.

“Come on Y/N, there’s thousands of people in that crowd! There’s no way you could’ve checked every seat for him!”

My lips were pursed. Clara wrapped her hands around my shoulders, soothing me. She leaned into my ear, lowering her voice to a whisper.

“I bet he showed up tonight. And if he didn’t, it was his loss entirely.”

The cold Paris air bit at my exposed skin. The chill penetrated my tank top, chilling me to the bone. I drew the sides of my peacoat together, attempting to conceal my torso and thighs from the wind.

I began to stroll, trying to enjoy the lovely Paris evening despite the fact that so much was less than ideal.

After about thirty paces, I was struck by an uneasy sense that someone was watching me. I initially ignored it. There were numerous high-rise apartment buildings. I'm sure that feeling came from being a window away from someone's living space, and the possibility that someone was watching me inadvertently.

I couldn't shake the feeling even after another thirty paces. The buildings in this particular neighborhood were completely dark. That is, everyone was sleeping, and if anyone was watching me, it probably would go unnoticed by bystanders.

I took a peek over my shoulder to ensure my intuition was correct.

About thirty feet behind me was a tall, lanky man in a black coat.

Alright, probably just a coincidence-

Wait.

I did a double take.

Holy shit.

It was the guy from the ballet!

This all is just one big coincidence.

I kept my head down, trying to maintain my composure.

His footsteps became audible. I focused on them, noticing that they were becoming slightly louder with every step.

Shit.

Shit!

God, this guy is a total creep! How could I be so stupid?!

I’m about to get totally kidnapped!

I started to move faster, trying to appear calm despite being aware that my heart was pounding in my ears. My blood rushed to my heart, leaving my face pale and cold.

God, he’s getting closer!

Jesus my stomach is in knots!

“Don’t look so frightened, darling.”

The man’s velvety accent pierced the air like a knife. My heart jumped.

I’m fucked.

“Really, I just want to talk with you.”

No way in hell was I stopping. My calves burned. My eyes were wide. My hands trembled within my pockets.

My chest came into contact with something solid. I stumbled back, looking up.

Oh my goodness, he was right in front of me.

How did he get there without me hearing?

The heat left my body.

I stood, wide eyed and perplexed.

The man's neutral gaze softened as he noticed my anxiety.

“I am very sorry to have frightened you, madame. I am simply a fan wishing to pay my respects.”

He placed a hand on his chest.

“I promise, I mean no harm. There is no reason to be frightened.”

He was considerably taller than me. In two seconds, he could pick me up and throw me into the back of a shady white van.

Nonetheless, his luxurious accent and courteous eyes made me believe he was telling the truth. So I allowed myself to relax ever so slightly.

“Did you come and see the show tonight?”

A smirk played on the corners of his lips.

“But of course. It would be foolish of me to disregard the opportunity to observe such talent.”

Wow, I'm going to give credit where credit is due. He’s a smooth talker. He speaks with such elegance. I'm unable to ignore his words. With bated breath, I await each sentence.

“Well, that is very kind of you to say.”

He slipped his hands into the pockets of his black overcoat, shrugging nonchalantly.

“I only convey the complete truth. In my lifetime, I have seen hundreds of ballets, operas, and plays. It is uncommon to find such a passion for the arts in the hearts of the prefromers. Few people allow creativity to encompass every aspect of them. But, I have noticed fire within you.”

He glanced deeply into my eyes, as if he wanted to capture some of the "fire" within me and preserve it for himself.

“I can tell by the way you dance and command the stage.”

The gentle breeze rustled the end of his overcoat as his pale eyes shone in the pale moonlight. He exuded a sense of mystery that beckoned me to embrace the unknown.

“Your blood runs red with creativity.”

He came to a halt, his piercing gaze catching my lips before darting back to my eyes.

“And, your beauty is unmatched.”

Forget about my face being cold; it was now scorching hot. I just hope I kept enough blush on my cheeks to hide the natural pink.

He extends his leg, the buckle of his pricey loafer catching the moonlight. He steps closer, the wonderful aroma of whiskey and bergamot wafting into my nose. The scent cloud muffles my brain, making me dizzy with anticipation.

“How long have you been dancing for?”

I raise my eyebrows.

“Oh, well, my entire life. I started the moment I could walk and I’ve pretty much been in the dance studio everyday since.”

The enigmatic man nodded, pleased with my response. I took my hands from my pockets, as they were sweating despite the chill.

“And… Do you enjoy it?”

I nodded vigorously.

“Yes, I remember, um-.”

I took a deep breath, careful not to trip over my words and reveal that my heart was racing.

“I remember my first official dance class. I was- about four or five.”

I swallowed, a lump forming in my throat.

“All the kids were complaining. I mean, y’know, at that age it basically is just an excuse for the parents to get their obnoxious kids out of the house.”

He chuckled.

Yes!

“But I never complained, not once. I loved it from the start. And, it’s completely consumed my life since then.”

He took another step forward. The distance between us was almost non-existent now. To meet his gaze, I had to almost completely crane my neck back.

“I can tell. You don’t just dance, you float over the stage. It really is beautiful to watch.”

His voice dropped to a sultry whisper.

“You are beautiful to watch.”

My stomach flipped.

My breath caught in my throat as he cupped my face with his hand. His grip was gentle, as if he were coddling a baby bird.

My mind was empty, a void waiting to be filled by him.

He exhaled deeply, a breath fanning over my face. I instinctively leaned into him, craving his warmth, craving his scent, craving…

Him.

He ran his calloused thumb along my cheekbone. My face was burning. I knew he could feel it beneath his palm.

He grinned.

“You have a very bright future in the arts. Paris is only the beginning.”

I could sense the tension rising. I was on the edge of my seat, waiting for something magnificent to unfold.

A hug?

A proclamation of love?

A kiss?

“I hope and pray that you will allow me to be an integral component of your bright future.”

He slipped something into my empty pocket sneakily. He smiled broadly. My heart skipped a beat. His smile was enticing, so simple yet so effective.

“Call me, Ma chère.”

He took a step back, turned, and began to stroll away. My shoulders loosened. My chest gave way. My cheeks had lost their warmth. The tension had been released.

I could breathe.

I could think.

“Wait!”

I shouted. He glanced over his shoulder.

His figure looked very intriguing. Most of his ridges and curves were hidden by his long coat. It enticed one to venture into uncharted territories.

“What’s your name?”

He scoffed.

“When you call, I will tell you.”

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jobean12-blog · 2 months

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Can't Help Falling

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female!princess!reader

Word Count: 1,748

Summary: The more time you spend with the General, the more you fall in love.

Author's Note: I love (and hate for them) the idea that they have to be sneaky all the time and the library is a place of escape for them both so I thought having something a little extra naughty but also sweet would work. The poem I used in this story can be found HERE. You can read more about Catallus if you like. The library I'm referencing is the Ulpian Library and you can find info on it HERE and HERE. I'm pretty sure my timelines are all wonky but we can just pretend it all works out bc yay fanfic! 😁

Warnings: it's soft and sweet, semi public sex, fingering, oral (male rec), a lovely poem and a pretty library.

Marcus Acacius Masterlist

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

With silent footsteps you hurry across the stones, passing the Colosseum as it towers above you and blots out the brightest rays of the setting sun. The streets of the city are still very much alive with crowds but as you get nearer to the Forum of Trajan their voices start to fade and the warm breeze carries only the sounds of singing birds.

The Ulpia library is the same as you remember with long columns lining the courtyard and natural light filtering through every open space. There are people walking slowly along the walkways, books in hand and completely oblivious to your presence.

Even now, though you’ve spent such time together and watched him train and fight, it still feels like the breath rushes out of you when you see him. He stands taller than everyone around him, and as his dark eyes scan the courtyard, you take the time to enjoy him.

His tunic drapes across his broad shoulders, showing off his arms and legs and the ornamental stripes show off his status as General. He wears nothing on his head today and his curls blow freely in the breeze, giving him a slightly more relaxed look that makes you smile.

He turns and finds you then, standing and staring until you drop your chin under the intensity of his gaze. When you look up again, he smiles and discreetly crooks a finger at you, beckoning.

As you draw closer, he whispers, “you were staring Princess.”

“And you were not?” you shoot back, enjoying how his eyes sparkle with mischief.

Footsteps approach and you grow quiet, feigning interest in the architecture around you. A man passes by and greets the General before his eyes fall on you.

You’re recognizable even under your cloaked disguise so you quickly turn away and play shy.

It seems to appease the man and he walks off with his book.

“I have not visited this place in too long,” you tell Marcus.

With a quick look around, he gently presses his palm to your lower back and leads you deeper into the library.

“I figured as much,” he answers.

When you enter the main library room the smell of parchment and dust assaults your senses, and you breathe in deeply.

Marcus smiles and takes your hand, leading you to one of the niches where hidden inside there is a bookcase lined with scrolls and books. He plucks one from the collection and continues walking, tucking you both behind one of the floor to ceiling columns.

The bookcases press in on you from both sides and the tight quarters force you closer to him.

“Have you read any poetry by Catallus?” he asks.

“Not much,” you admit.

Anticipation spreads along your tingling skin when his lips meet the shell of your ear and he whispers, “not much…or not any?”

When you meet his eyes, he has his answer.

“He’s most known for his words on romance and love…”

You reach for the book, but he keeps it from you, his smile growing as confusion takes over your expression.

“We are going to read it here.”

“Here. But Marcus…”

“And you are going to read it to me.”

You swallow heavily, but when his palm flattens against your cheek and his warmth spreads along your skin you breathe him in and lean into his touch.

“I would have you laid out on my bed reading each and every night but given our circumstances, this will have to do.”

“Just reading General?”

His jaw clenches and his fingers press into your skin before he drags your mouth up to his. The book is smashed between you when he hauls you closer and kisses you with such urgency it steals your breath.

“One night very soon you will be mine and I will have you not out in the open with the fear of being caught but in safety where I can hear every sound of pleasure that I draw from these beautiful lips.”

The calloused pad of his thumb runs along your lower lip and his eyes wander over your features.

“Stunning,” he whispers.

Your breathing is heavy, and you grab his wrist, steadying yourself.

“Marcus,” you purr. “I fear I no longer care who hears or sees, I need you. Each night is torture.”

Because of the tall niches of bookcases surrounding you, you’re invisible from across the room, but if anyone were to walk down from the other side of the library, you would be exposed.

He bends to kiss you, starting with the corner of your mouth and humming at the contact.

“You know I could never allow that. I despise even the idea of any other man laying eyes on you.”

He turns you to face the rows of scrolls and reaches around you to open the book, stopping at a specific passage, and then moves your hand to hold it open. His finger points to the title: “Come Live With Me and Be My Love.”

“Read,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear.

You tongue wets your lips before you start:

“Come live with me, Lesbia, and be my love, And ignore the wagging tongues Of wilted crones and toothless geezers..”

His large hands ran up beneath your tunic, over your hips and across your stomach.

“You are so soft,” he murmurs into your neck.

Your words stutter and he stops his ministrations.

“Princess,” he orders.

You continue, willing your voice to stay steady.

“Suns rise and set, rise and set again, But we, when our brief light is blacked, Must sleep forever, and then forever.”

One of his hands smooths down your side and between your thighs. He teases the wetness he finds there, hissing out a curse when you spread your legs wider for him.

You try to focus on the words in front of you, blinking down at the book.

“Focus,” he whispers.

“So kiss me, Sweet, and kiss me plenty: First a thousand, then a hundred kisses; Then catch your breath and kiss me more: Another thousand, another hundred…”

His lips meet your neck, and at first he presses them softly against your skin then more firmly at your pulse point where he feels the hammering of your heart.

Without any warning he slips a finger inside you and starts to pump it slowly in and out. You groan, needing more and pushing onto his hand.

“Quiet,” he reminds you.

His drags his finger out and teases your clit with small and focused circles.

“Keep reading Princess.”

“I cannot,” you whimper as your hips roll. “I just…Marcus, please!”

“You can,” he says simply and pushes two fingers inside you. “Or we can stop.”

You begin reading again in a tight, stuttering cadence that drives him crazy.

“Still thousands yet till we've lost all count And must begin again, keeping Envious others guessing the sum Of how many kisses much we love.”

You string the words together and although they’re filled with a soft tenderness it does nothing to quell the heavy feeling of lust that rushes through you.

“Touch yourself,” he demands.

“Marcus,” you gasp and the book slips from your fingers.

With shaky trepidation you reach down between your legs and rub his hand brushing against yours as he pushes his fingers in and out of you.

Your legs shake and you squeeze around his fingers, your cry of pleasure muffled when his free hand covers your mouth.

When your muscles stop trembling, he keeps his fingers buried inside you and stifles his moan with his mouth pressed to your neck.

The library is now completely silent, and you realize you have no idea how loud you had been. Did you whisper each word you read? You were so completely lost in him you had no idea.

He pulls his fingers free, releasing a quiet grunt, and turns you to face him.

His lips meet yours in a desperate kiss and when you reach down to take him in your hand he sucks in a breath.

“Princess?” he asks, his eyes dark.

“It is my turn to touch you. Please Marcus.”

As if your name on his lips is his undoing, he releases you and places his palms flat on the bookshelves in front of him.

You drop to your knees, and he trembles.

“Remember, you must be quiet,” you warn with a mischievous grin.

He sucks his teeth when your hand circles around him and gently glides along his hardness. He waits, fingers digging into the wooden shelves and chest heaving, until you wrap your mouth around the tip of him.

Whatever string of words leave his lips are unknown to you and when the first taste of him hits your tongue you moan and take him deeper.

He keeps his eyes locked on you, imprinting the image onto his brain. His hips begin to rock, and he slowly pushes himself deeper, clearing trying to restrain himself.

You roll your tongue and use your hand, pumping and sucking as much of him as you can until he’s groaning a warning above you, the rhythm of his hips stuttering and slowing as he spills down your throat.

When you release him it’s with reluctance and only because he gently takes your arm and drags you up his body. He stares at you and your swollen lips then kisses you hard enough to have your back hitting the bookshelf behind with a thud.

He instantly slides his hand along the curve of your spine in a soothing manner, the only apology he can manage without breaking away.

“You are spectacular,” he breathes against your lips. “I would keep you here with me forever.”

“But I must go,” you say quietly. “My father will surely know of my absence should I stay any longer.”

He nods and reverently brushes his thumb across your cheek before stepping slowly back.

You’re nearing the exit of the library when he reaches for your hand and pulls you into a darkened alcove.

“Just one more,” he murmurs, right before he brings his lips to yours.

It’s soft and sweet and he lingers, not wanting to be the one to pull away.

“A thousand kisses will never be enough,” he whispers against your lips.

You swallow and meet his eyes again, sweeping your fingers through his messy curls.

He presses his hand over yours as you cradle his cheek then brings your knuckles to his lips.

“Until next time, Princess.”

@hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @tripletstephaniescp

#marcus acacius x reader #pedro pascal #marcus acacius #marcus acacius smut #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius x female reader #marcus acacius x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #marcus acacius fanfiction #marcus acacius x princess!reader #general marcus acacius #gladiator 2 #gladiator 2 fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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