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Ficlet: Outdoors
Tiny pornlet for this week's ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
camelot_fleet party, originally posted here.
Title: Outdoors
Pairing: Gwen/Morgana
Rating: R (I think?)
Warning: Both characters are underage. AU, with my sincerest apologies to J. K. Rowling.
*
*
'My arm might never be the same again,' Morgana sighs theatrically. 'This could be the end of my Quidditch career.'
Arthur mutters excuses about Transfigurations homework and leaves very, very quickly. He drags a spluttering Merlin along ('I'm not letting you copy my homework again!'; 'Shut up, Merlin.'), who stumbles and barely escapes falling into the lake.
'That was a bit cruel,' Gwen says mildly, watching the two figures retreat towards the castle.
Arthur's Bludger did break Morgana's arm—a week ago, in a match that ended in a thumping victory for Slytherin after a heroic one-armed capture of the Snitch by Morgana. It also made Morgana something of a school celebrity, and she's been making the most of it ever since.
'I was grievously injured,' Morgana insists. Her pout is almost certainly put on. Gwen can't help the sudden surge of affection at the thought, can't resist trailing her fingers down the 'injured' arm, gentle.
'I guess I'll have to kiss it better, then,' Gwen says, raising Morgana's hand to her lips. Kisses the fingers one by one, nibbles softly on the thumb.
Morgana's soft moan is gratifying. Gwen pushes her down on the grass and kisses her, slow and languid, tongues stroking, right up until Morgana slides a hand between Gwen's legs and presses down.
Gwen draws back a little, panting. 'I, Morgana—'
'What?' Morgana says, innocent, even as she does something unspeakably wicked with her thumb.
'We should take this inside,' Gwen says. Morgana licks her collarbone. 'Someone might see us.'
'The grounds are deserted,' Morgana says, nipping at her jaw.
'There's always the Squid,' Gwen offers. 'There're, ah, stories.'
Morgana says nothing: reaches underneath Gwen's robes and brushes her inner thighs, teasing, until Gwen begins to shift restlessly. 'Morgana,' she says, pleading.
'The Squid can watch,' Morgana says.
*
camelot_fleet party, originally posted here. Title: Outdoors
Pairing: Gwen/Morgana
Rating: R (I think?)
Warning: Both characters are underage. AU, with my sincerest apologies to J. K. Rowling.
*
*
'My arm might never be the same again,' Morgana sighs theatrically. 'This could be the end of my Quidditch career.'
Arthur mutters excuses about Transfigurations homework and leaves very, very quickly. He drags a spluttering Merlin along ('I'm not letting you copy my homework again!'; 'Shut up, Merlin.'), who stumbles and barely escapes falling into the lake.
'That was a bit cruel,' Gwen says mildly, watching the two figures retreat towards the castle.
Arthur's Bludger did break Morgana's arm—a week ago, in a match that ended in a thumping victory for Slytherin after a heroic one-armed capture of the Snitch by Morgana. It also made Morgana something of a school celebrity, and she's been making the most of it ever since.
'I was grievously injured,' Morgana insists. Her pout is almost certainly put on. Gwen can't help the sudden surge of affection at the thought, can't resist trailing her fingers down the 'injured' arm, gentle.
'I guess I'll have to kiss it better, then,' Gwen says, raising Morgana's hand to her lips. Kisses the fingers one by one, nibbles softly on the thumb.
Morgana's soft moan is gratifying. Gwen pushes her down on the grass and kisses her, slow and languid, tongues stroking, right up until Morgana slides a hand between Gwen's legs and presses down.
Gwen draws back a little, panting. 'I, Morgana—'
'What?' Morgana says, innocent, even as she does something unspeakably wicked with her thumb.
'We should take this inside,' Gwen says. Morgana licks her collarbone. 'Someone might see us.'
'The grounds are deserted,' Morgana says, nipping at her jaw.
'There's always the Squid,' Gwen offers. 'There're, ah, stories.'
Morgana says nothing: reaches underneath Gwen's robes and brushes her inner thighs, teasing, until Gwen begins to shift restlessly. 'Morgana,' she says, pleading.
'The Squid can watch,' Morgana says.
*