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it's a wagon with the band
Can't guarantee any of these will get done. Because. Uh. I can't write porn. But.
Give me a series/pairing and an emotion, and I'll write at least two paragraphs of smut.
Give me a series/pairing and an emotion, and I'll write at least two paragraphs of smut.
Because angry sex is hot.
I think I fail at this by virtue of the fact these two are DUMB
“Non-amusement, Axel.”
“… crushing disappointment?”
Roxas snorted. “How ‘bout murderous rage?”
“Hm.” From across the room, Axel shrugged. “…hey, sure! Whatever turns your key, Roxas.”
It was like throwing a match on an oil slick. Axel cleared the room in less than a second. Axel grabbed Roxas by the arm. Axel threw him down across the table.
“…got it memorized?” He hissed, like it was hard to breath, he was just so angry. He leaned over him with a cold grin.
Roxas raised his eyebrows, bit his lip, and somehow managed not to laugh.
It wasn’t too hard. Axel did a good job of it, all taut and still to the point he was almost aquiver. His fingers weren’t really like fire over the skin. They were too deft, too precise: the heel of his palm pressed too significantly over the front of Roxas’ pants as he grabbed the zipper of his coat. Roxas bucked into it like it burned anyway, wrenched his shoulder up, so Axel could grab it and shove it down again. Could give him a dangerous look, as his index finger scraped vengefully against the base of his neck.
“…you…don’t want to be doing that.”
“Oh gee,” said Roxas, rolling his eyes. “Why not.”
…and he put his hand over Axel’s side so he could feel the way the other nobody shook with that inexplicable, perfectly acted resentment.
“Three reasons. This.”
He shoved his coat open.
“This.”
He hooked a finger in his waistband.
“And this.”
He dropped his head. Roxas gasped, low and genuine; and proceeded to ruin the whole act by lying rather agreeably as Axel duly grabbed his hips and pounded him into the table.
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Nnnguh. Hotness. They're dorks, sure, but hot, hot dorks :d
Praise! praise you!
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blkasjrkslakd ♥
Re: I think I fail at this by virtue of the fact these two are DUMB
Re: I think I fail at this by virtue of the fact these two are DUMB
Roxas gasped, low and genuine; and proceeded to ruin the whole act by lying rather agreeably
Funny.
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Um. Word. word word word... 'hysteria'? GO CRAZY.
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alternately: Sydney/Rosencrantz, inconsequential.
... but only because I have issues, ahaha.
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The prophet moved like a woman.
There was no denying it, when one watched him. Rosencrantz marveled at it, from the back of the room. It was just a certain sway to his hips as he walked. A certain grace in the swing of his arms. They led him about like the limbs dancing girl. It was quite ridiculous, actually. Rosencrantz wanted to shove his hand down his britches just to see there was even really anything manful to be found there. He nearly doubted it, and even there were—he nearly suspected Sydney’d go about it like a girl anyway. Surrender prettily, keening, whining, wailing. Twisting all about with legs spread like a lady pulling her skirts up…
Sydney Losstarot glanced back across the room with a raised eyebrow and a curious tilt to his head. He lifted a hand, waved a claw in an amused, chiding swish. Oh. The boy was just doing it for show, Rosencrantz was convinced of this, but there was a knowing look somewhere in those dark, mad eyes… and it reminded the man, hungrily, of why he’d come in the first place.
Your OLD ONE TWO! is good enough for the likes of me.
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She imagines they did not cry for it as she does.
And when her face is pressed against her knight—who is not really anyone’s knight, she thinks, whatever he might say—she shakes, and shakes and feels his bare hands trace up her back. Telling her she is most lovely and most pure stay just like that, highness, if you’d like she knows, she knows the truth of it. It is not for safety that she kisses his shoulder and huddles near. It is out of protest: for she is not much of a queen, she thinks, she is not. She is not. She is not.
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Oh, I'm going to the SPECIAL hell for this one...
“it doesn’t hurt,’ the witch assures. she’s lying a little bit. his skin is made of denser substance than she, and every inch of it leaves her slightly bruised, slightly overwhelmed.
the corner of his mouth twists. no, it’s not…
“ah,’ says the witch. ah thinks the witch, feeling him in her as she leans over him, more. ‘it’s okay. you can close your eyes. i’ll close mine too. and we can see whatever we want to see. that’ll be nice, won’t it? that’ll be…’
she strokes the side of his face as she speaks. she touches his temples, the bridge of his nose, his eyelids. and it’s when they pass, shaking, over his lips that he notices for the first time that he can see through her fingers. that’s she’s been barely holding herself together this whole time. that there’s really not much left of her at all.
“Hey,” he says, closes his eyes, pulls his arms around her, and begins to move again.
You can join me there, we'll roast marshmallows!
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Yoruichi/Soi Fong, emotion "restraint," take that as you will.
(What, like you couldn't see that coming.)
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Oh yeah, recently friended you because of your awesome Axel-characterization. ^^
Crack pair
Weird pairing... one I have never seen finished... so only you would be able to rise to challenge
because it is there.
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Byakuya/Stick up his arseRenji/Rukia: Mocking
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“…you CRAZY FUCKING--”
“Ah!” Rukia gazed down at him, two fingers still extended in the shape of the seal that had left his arms locked over his friggin’ head. “Such an honor, Captain-dono! Such a privilege! That you should allow me see you in such a state of…”
Her eyes traveled over him, slowly, lingering particularly over his chest and his throat, then drifting down. Renji shifted, not out of modesty—hell if he had any of that-- but out of spite.
“…such a state,” concluded Rukia, looking a touch disappointed.
“I’ll kill you.”
“…you could try to look a little more uncomfortable.”
“I’ll kill you.”
“It isn’t that cold!”
“You,” said Renji. “And your goddamn rabbit.”
This was crossing a line. Rukia’s eyes flashed pale. “You would threaten Chappy…!” She raised her chin-- and her hand, as though considering going for his eyes-- then settled for something cleaner and more dignified. Which was squatting down across from him, tipping her head, and smirking, coolly. She smelled like snow and sweat and scented pink pens. Renji made a snap at her with his teeth. She pulled her head back, just out of range.
“Mm. No,” she whispered, “Fool.”
And he called her a bitch as his groin gave a telltale twitch in response.
Rukia gazed at him curiously. She had him, damn her.
“Oh, Captain-dono!” she exclaimed. So blithe Renji wasn’t sure if he was planning to strangle her or what the next chance he got. And he was hard, so this was becoming a tough call. “…I had no idea you responded so well to compliments!”
Yeah, decided Renji as her hand wrapped around his dick, there would be death. Definitely death, and a whole lot of it. As soon he got his arms free...
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being quixotic apparently involves bears
“Were they there?” asked Naminé, curiously.
He put the paper lantern down on the table in front of her.
“Yes,” said her companion. Allowing a pause for her to put her sketchpad down and pick up this very new object, turning it around in her hands. “You sent me dragon-slaying.”
Naminé looked up at him with wide eyes. “Is this for me?”
“That's a little more literal than I figured this business would be-- ...is there anyone else I’d be giving it to…?”
“Yes?”
“It’s yours.”
“Oh.” Naminé touched one of the flowers in the paper. “…thank you.”
He watched her for a second, holding the lantern by its strings. There was good light in this world, the one they were passing through—she seemed to like watching faint glow through the thin red paper.
“...I saw him.”
“I know.”
“…I shouldn’t be surprised by that anymore.”
“Your heart told me. Did you mind?”
“Will my heart tell you that too?” He crossed his arms. “Not really. You’re going to send me after bears now, aren’t you.”
The witch went quiet for entirely too long.
“Naminé.”
“…well.”
“Naminé.”
“I think,” she said, regretfully placing the lantern down. She put her sketchpad on the table, slid it across to him, a finger on the corner of the page, tapping once. “…we should go here, next…”
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the best part is where onlookers thing Riku's a dirty lolicon.
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é = ALT + 0233
ï = ALT + 0239
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Loving these stories!
Uh.. *tries not to be predictable*
Xigbar/Demyx. Emotion: Flirtatious