Femslash Day Fills Post!

[bebopsamurai]

Happy International Femslash Day!

Well, I've finished up all the prompts I got, along with fics for several pairings I've intended to do before but never got around to, so here it all is in one easy spot.

(Prompts are listed alphabetically by fandom)

Bayonetta
- Bayonetta/Jeanne, PG-13 (ish), "Practice Makes Perfect" (requested by girlinstilettos )

Bleach
-

Comments

Bayonetta, Bayonetta/Jeanne, "Practice Makes Perfect" 2/2

[bebopsamurai]

"Hmph. Well, it certainly works to our advantage now, I suppose. We'll have to step things up starting tomorrow night if you're going to be ready."

Cereza's smile flickers just a bit, her expression more than a little pensive.

"...Do you really think this will work? I mean, it's quite the risk you're taking for me, and I doubt the headmistress would even allow--"

"That stuffy old fool," Jeanne interrupts, closing the distance until she's mere inches from Cereza's face, "...wouldn't know what's good for the clan if someone had it written out and slapped her with it. And the others know better than to challenge me themselves. If I want an Umbra Witch who just happens to be 'cursed'..." At that she slides a hand along the curve of Cereza's hip, eyes smoldering into the slightly taller woman's.

"...Then I'll get her."

They've done this for what feels like ages-- ever since a hurried, eager moment of mutual adolescent curiosity got wonderfully out of hand-- but Cereza can't help smiling when Jeanne simply kisses her, and the accompanying shiver all the way down to her toes never fails to leave her a little giddy.

Part of her knows they should get back soon, but the fight has left her adrenaline surging and Jeanne looks good enough to eat in that curve-hugging red satin and well, it simply wasn't good luck to break a post-duel ritual after all.

"Mmm... A little bit of a selfish attitude for a future Umbra Headmistress, I'd say," Cereza purrs, her fingers tickling along the dip of Jeanne's back. She somehow manages to squeeze closer to Cereza, her grin almost predatory when she finds the hem of her obscuring robe, her fingers pressing into the warm, soft skin beneath.

"I think you like it."

"Wouldn't you like to know," Cereza breathes, loosening the ties on Jeanne's robe with practiced speed, leaning in to hungrily lavish attention on an exposed patch of skin on her shoulder.

Whatever Jeanne had planned to say is long gone in that moment, and not wasting another second she pulls off Cereza's robe, winds a hand through long silken black hair, and pulls her into a passionate kiss.