Kink Meme 2/7/2010 - 2/14/2010
Feb. 6th, 2010 06:16 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
moduno.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
kinkfestAll you need to do today (Saturday) is think up the dirtiest, smuttiest, most likely to produce the yummiest porn requests (in 24 words or less - remember your kink) and leave it as an anonymous comment to this post. All comments will be screened until our virtual start gun sounds off at the stroke of midnight EST. No real goal this year other than creating as many pages of panty-wetting goodness as we can within a week's time. All of you are invited to help us reach our target.
Here are the rules, my lovelies.
This is how it works:
* Leave an anonymous request here. All requests will be screened until Midnight EST. Don't forget to include fandom, characters and kink, the rest is up to you. However, prompts must be 24 words or less. {Check out this list for ideas}
* Any and all ratings, pairings and fandoms welcome.
* Requests for art can be made and we definitely encourage our artists to participate if they have the time and are inspired by any of the prompts. [LEAVE EACH REQUEST AS A COMMENT]
* Everyone's invited and more than one person can take on a prompt.
See four responses to a prompt, but want to add your own point of view? Bring it on! There can never be enough porn written for this comm, ladies and gents!
* Please please please no bashing or rude comments. Your squick may be someone else's bulletproof kink. And dude, we're here for the party, so if you have nothing constructive to say, move along!
* I'll be keeping track of fic or art posted in this entry. Feel free to drop me a comment if I miss your contribution or get it wrong in some way (which often happens with me *g*).
* A reveal will take place in which authors/artists will take off their virtual masks and reveal their true identity to the readers (or not). It's up to you!
COMMENTS ARE SCREENED!
Here are the rules, my lovelies.
This is how it works:
* Leave an anonymous request here. All requests will be screened until Midnight EST. Don't forget to include fandom, characters and kink, the rest is up to you. However, prompts must be 24 words or less. {Check out this list for ideas}
* Any and all ratings, pairings and fandoms welcome.
* Requests for art can be made and we definitely encourage our artists to participate if they have the time and are inspired by any of the prompts. [LEAVE EACH REQUEST AS A COMMENT]
* Everyone's invited and more than one person can take on a prompt.
See four responses to a prompt, but want to add your own point of view? Bring it on! There can never be enough porn written for this comm, ladies and gents!
* Please please please no bashing or rude comments. Your squick may be someone else's bulletproof kink. And dude, we're here for the party, so if you have nothing constructive to say, move along!
* I'll be keeping track of fic or art posted in this entry. Feel free to drop me a comment if I miss your contribution or get it wrong in some way (which often happens with me *g*).
* A reveal will take place in which authors/artists will take off their virtual masks and reveal their true identity to the readers (or not). It's up to you!
COMMENTS ARE SCREENED!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 11:54 am (UTC)Very tame, barely there, I hope it still fits...
Date: 2010-02-13 10:07 pm (UTC)Hanatarō stared at his patient in wonder and blushed. Not only had a member of that terrible Eleventh division thanked him (yes, it was a first), he had actually remembered his name!
“You’re welcome,” he stammered back after a long pause. He only noticed he was still staring after the scary Fifth-seed Ayasegawa graced him with one of his famous smiles. It, for once, lacked the blood-thirst component, but held a whole lot of wickedness instead. He blushed again, lowered his gaze and busied himself with putting away the bandages.
And so it began.
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From:no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 11:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 12:24 pm (UTC)Art request
Date: 2010-02-06 12:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 12:54 pm (UTC)Omorashi, humiliation. "And here I thought you'd grown out of pissing yourself, Alphonse."
no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 01:12 pm (UTC)Pairing: Kensei/Hisagi
Kink: Punishment, D/s - post fake Karakura arc. Hisagi needs it, Kensei obliges.
On the topic of topping from the bottom and the failure that follows 1/4
Date: 2010-02-10 03:07 pm (UTC)Shuuhei had been on edge all day. He’d snapped at his subordinates, something he never did, and had nearly lost it when an inkpot had tipped over and drenched a stack of newly finished paperwork in black, forcing him to do it all over again.
If Captain Muguruma hadn’t been in the office they shared, he’d ripped the paperwork into shreds, thrown the inkpot into the nearest wall and then probably tossed his chair out the window.
Instead he had just seethed, ignoring the sharp gaze trained on him from across the room.
Shuuhei felt as if he was locked in a tiny cage. Even when he sat still it felt like he was pacing back and forth, back and forth. He just couldn’t put his finger on what the hell it was that caused it all. The restlessness and frustration was choking him.
It wasn’t just today; it had been this way for weeks. Not as bad as this cursed afternoon, but the restlessness had been there. Gnawing, clawing, growling in his guts.
Shuuhei needed… He didn’t know what, he just needed.
To his horror and dismay, he had taken most of his frustration out on the one person he shouldn’t: his captain and lover. He had challenged orders and dawdled on paperwork and various assignments and despite it all, despite his barbed jabs and thinly veiled insolence, Shuuhei had apparently been good. So good he deserved nothing but loving, albeit rough care and attention from Kensei. Sure the large vaizard snapped back during daytime, but not with the usual air of don’t-fuck-with-me-or-you’ll-pay.
At home Shuuhei had been treated like a fragile thing, been made love to – not fucked, not forced to submit to the iron will of Kensei the way he was used to. It was all very confusing.
Shuuhei groaned and hid his face in his ink-stained hands, elbows resting on his large maple desk. He was acting like a goddamn child and he knew it. He just didn’t know how to stop it.
His torment came to an abrupt end when Kensei smacked the tabletop with the flat of his hands, the loud slap resounding in the entire room and shaking Shuuhei from his thoughts, and told him enough – this workday was over and they were going home. No questions, no buts.
As they entered the main room of their quarters, Kensei pointed to a small stack of flat pillows on the floor. “Sit.”
Shuuhei sat.
Kensei, however, remained standing, looming over his lieutenant in a way that somehow felt both protective and menacing and Shuuhei, now having to crane his neck to be able to see him, tried desperately to figure out what was going on inside his head.
After a long pause, the silence so heavy it made Shuuhei’s shoulders sag, Kensei hunched down in front of him and raised his hand. His leather-clad palm connected with a scarred cheek in what was not quite a hard tap, nor a slap, but something in between. Still Shuuhei’s head snapped to the side, more out of instinct than the force of the blow.
The moment after blunt fingertips dug into Shuuhei’s jaw and forced him to look straight ahead.
“You’re acting up, brat, and I just can’t figure out why. This is not like you…” Kensei tilted Shuuhei’s head this way and that, turning it as far as it went to one side, then to the other. His eyes, narrowed down to thin slits, were locked on Shuuhei’s face, searching, digging… “Do you have a reason?”
Shuuhei opened his mouth to answer, then snapped it shut again as he realised that no, he didn’t. He knew he’d been a handful. He just couldn’t understand why. All he knew was that there was a burning frustration in the pit of his stomach and it felt as if it was killing him slowly.
In the end he just shook his head, or tried to; the grip on his jaw making it impossible.
On the topic of topping from the bottom and the failure that follows 2/4
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Date: 2010-02-06 01:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 02:15 pm (UTC)Bonus points for Schuldig having more enthusiasm than stamina.
no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 02:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-11 06:01 am (UTC)Inch by slow, glorious inch, he's penetrated, sliding down until he's whimpering, face pressed against the bed. A hand wraps around his hip to hold him still, ass in the air. He can feel eyes on his skin and shudders. The invading weight inside him shifts, drawing back until just the head presses against him before driving back in tortuously slow.
"Please--!" he whines, knees slipping on the satin until a hand stops him, hefting him back into place. Lips press against his ear from behind; breath tickles the sensitive skin behind it.
"You know I could never deny you anything, Subaru-kun." The voice is low, knowing and playful, teasing and promising at once. The cock inside him slides against a spot that makes him see colors splashed against his eyelids as his lover moves faster.
"S-seishirou-san!" he cries when a hand reaches around him to stroke his cock slowly. He shudders.
The hips that crash against his are slender where they should be muscled, softly rounded where they should be firm. The hand gripping him is fine, delicately boned and, though no less deft, lacks a surgeon's refined control. These things don't matter, though; lost to fantasy as he is, he barely notices the small, soft breasts that press against his back where a more masculine frame should be. The hand around him twists and he can barely remember his name, a moan pouring from his lips in long, sinful syllables.
Suddenly there are fingers knotting in his hair. His head is yanked back and he whines, uncomfortable with the new position as his spine is forced into an awkward curve. The cock inside him moves faster; the hand on his own cock moves faster. He swallows air in great, heaving gulps as the thrusts grow rougher and meaner until, with a wordless cry he shivers, spilling over the hand between his legs. His lover withdraws, letting him puddle boneless to the bed, limbs trembling.
As he comes back to himself, he is surprised to find himself blinking back tears; an image like a mirror is sprawled before him, lazily twisting her own nipple. "Did you like it, Subaru-kun?" she asks, still playing at a deeper timbre.
He finds his voice after a false start. "I thought you were...." he trails off, unsure how to approach the topic.
"Pretending to be Sei-chan?" she suggests with all the uncanny knowledge of him that she's always had.
"Yes," he agrees, frowning. "But then you...."
"Didn't you like it? It sure looked like you did from where I was," she says. Her hand is sticky, streaked with white. She is licking it clean with little laps like a cat.
"I--" he says, then stops, blushing. "But Seishirou-san wouldn't do that," he finally says. She is silent, for the first time distant from him. She's not so sure. He bites his lip, curling against her shoulder. "Thank you," he whispers in her ear. "You did your best."
She hums in acknowledgment, accepting his thanks. "One thing, though," she tells him, and he sits back to look at her face. "Subaru-kun, do you think I'm sexy?"
He buries his flushed cheeks against her throat as she laughs.
prompt
Date: 2010-02-06 02:36 pm (UTC)pairing: Aang/Zuko
prompt: fire lord Zuko still unmarried, crap relationship with Mai, Aang comforts him.
no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 02:36 pm (UTC)and maybe a bit of screaming in pleasure.no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 02:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 02:41 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-02-06 02:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 02:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-08 03:46 am (UTC)Two months later the nightmares hadn't gone away. Neither his nor his roommate's, the difference being that Roy's were considerably louder.
There had been a time in which he would have been gentle, called his name, offered a glass of water. However, after only a couple of weeks they had agreed that they had to move on, life kept going; Roy had a goal now, and Hughes had a girlfriend. So, instead of calling his name softly, Hughes threw a pillow at him.
Roy jumped from the bed, clearly on guard and ready to set something on fire.
"Roy, wake up."
Roy blinked and focused, then, once properly awake, he ran a hand through his hair groaning. Hughes smiled, then laughed when Roy threw the pillow back at him.
"What time is it?"
"A bit after midnight."
There was a pause, before Hughes jumped up and started looking under his bed. Roy just sighed, probably another bad idea.
"I think," Hughes said, "that we're no good without deadlines."
"What?"
"We said we'd keep going, but we never said when." He emerged triumphantly from under his bed, holding two bottles.
"You are not getting me drunk." It was a lost fight, Roy knew, but he had to try anyway.
"We are getting drunk and on Monday you are going to work and take whatever promotion they offered you. Then I am asking Gracia to marry me and our lives can stop being on hold."
'On hold' was in fact, an excellent description of what Roy's life had been since Ishbal and for a few seconds, he could do nothing but stare at Hughes in something akin to awe.
"All right" he said at last. "Give me one of those."
Hughes grinned in a way that made Roy decide this couldn't be such a bad idea.
---
Hughes wasn't drunk, which in and on itself could be considered cheating, but it wasn't his fault that Roy couldn't hold his alcohol. He'd decided, about halfway through his bottle that they would have sex. And when Roy was about three-fourths done with his, he kissed him. Roy blinked and cocked his head confused, like a puppy. It was adorable, so Hughes kissed him again.
"Hughes?"
"Tonight's important, right? We should make it memorable."
It took a while for Roy to register the words, but once he did he smiled widely. Then slowly, the smile turned impish and a second later he leaned closer to Hughes. Hughes couldn't help narrowing his eyes a little. "What?"
"You're blushing"
Hughes kissed him again, hoping it'd shut him up. It didn't, but after a while, Hughes stopped caring.
Sex with Hughes was always a little awkward, a combination of them being close friends and Hughes having so little experience. His friend had never quite gotten over the fussy 'Am I doing it right?' stage during sex. Roy was sure women found it adorable, but at times like this, when he was drunk and Hughes attention was on getting a proper stroke, it was weird and a little annoying.
"Memorable." He muttered before returning a kiss. This would mark the first day of the rest of their lives, he might as well show Hughes what sex should be like before sending him off to his girlfriend.
It wasn't a romantic night, in fact, after a while it became more of a game-- who could hold on longer, who could make the other scream louder. It was very them.
They knew they wouldn't have another night like this one, they both would have other things now. Better things. And five, ten years down the road, they would get together, clash their glasses, and remember that night fondly. The night when they closed a chapter of their lives and started another.
They both still had nightmares after that, but they seemed further away, bad dreams of times past, and when they woke up, instead of looking back at what had happened they looked forward to what was to come.
(no subject)
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Date: 2010-02-06 02:45 pm (UTC)prompt
Date: 2010-02-06 02:46 pm (UTC)pairing: Aang/Zuko
prompt: Now that Aang and Zuko are friends, Aang can make a move. preferably with oil-bending.
no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 02:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 02:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 02:49 pm (UTC)Kanda/Allen
Dirty sex in a low-lit train bathroom.
Er. O_O Please?
no subject
Date: 2010-02-09 06:54 pm (UTC)Allen lifted his other hand to his mouth, took the tip of one fingered glove between his teeth, and jerked the glove off. He tossed it aside, making sure it didn't fall into the toilet beside them, and fisted his hand in Kanda's hair. Kanda shifted against him, Kanda's lower body holding him up against the peeling wallpaper, his knees hooked over Kanda's arms. His mouth and tongue mapped the cut of Kanda's jaw and the curve of his ear.
Fingers tugged at the waist of his pants, and he squirmed, twisting his hips up enough for Kanda to get them past his buttocks before the material caught between them. But it was enough, he thought, as he slipped his hand from Kanda's hair and pressed his fingers to Kanda's mouth. Kanda's tongue traced the bump of each knuckle, smooth and slick. He pulled his fingers free and moved them down to push with little care into himself.
It was uncomfortable at first, as it always was. Kanda watched him with dark eyes, steady and focused despite the way his breath came in uneven little pants. This was the only way Kanda would have him--no words of endearment, no soft touches that might give these moments meaning, and no hint of acknowledgment afterward. But Allen had seen the way his eyes lingered, and felt the way his hands clutched at Allen's hips, his mouth pressed to the hollow of skin behind Allen's jaw as he moved against and in him. Allen knew what drove them both, the desperation that lent a frenzied quality to their movements.
Kanda made a sound of impatience and Allen grinned. He nodded, and felt Kanda press against him, hot and far thicker than his fingers. He bit his lip against the pain. Saliva made for piss poor lube, but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered with Kanda's forehead pressed to his, dark bangs getting into his eyes, and Kanda's breath warm against his mouth. Kanda moved quickly, not giving him time to adjust. Allen didn't mind.
His gloved hand slid against the dingy window glass, the moving train and Kanda's rapid thrusts giving him no room to brace himself. He dug his fingers into Kanda's arm and squeezed down around him, proud of every groan and mindless sound from Kanda's mouth.
It wasn't ideal, but it was enough.
(no subject)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2010-02-10 04:05 pm (UTC) - Expand(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 02:51 pm (UTC)prompt
Date: 2010-02-06 02:52 pm (UTC)pairing: Aang/Zuko
prompt: post-series. fire-bending sparring one day. tempers flare, risky, surprise first-time sex ensues.
no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 02:53 pm (UTC)Trowa/Quatre
First meeting after a long time; end to a long time of longing. Smex in one of Quatre's desert camps. In a tent. Trowa is turned on by Arabic.
no subject
Date: 2010-02-07 04:24 pm (UTC)But the letters are not the same, and Quatre's face is so much more beautiful when Trowa can touch and kiss it whenever he pleases. And they have months together, this time, while the circus makes repairs and works on new acts.
Quatre sits cross-legged on the floor of the tent, watching Trowa as he sheds the outer layers needed for the desert. "Are you comfortable?" he asks.
Trowa just nods in response. The tent has held in most of the day's warmth, and he slowly pulls his shirt off as Quatre watches. His skin almost tingles with anticipation, his pants feeling tight and constrictive.
"I'm amazed you can move after all the lamb you ate," Quatre smiles, unwrapping the scarf from around his neck.
Trowa can watch no longer; he crosses the tent floor and walks to Quatre, kneeling down to kiss his lovely mouth, to stroke his bright hair. Quatre kisses back, reaching carefully out to unbutton Trowa's pants, and Trowa gasps with pleasure as Quatre's fingers slip inside the fly and stroke him.
And now Trowa is leaning back and Quatre is pressing the attack, making short work of the rest of his clothing, kissing what feels like every inch of skin as it's exposed. Trowa is shuddering with the pleasure of it, reaching up to pull Quatre's shirt over his head, letting Quatre take anything, everything he wants.
It has been so very long.
Quatre, for all his claims of innocence, has a tube of lubricant in the pants he eagerly pulls off, and soon enough Trowa feels the familiar, slick fingers pressing at him. He breathes as calmly as he can, but it's hard; hard when he wants so much, hard when he's missed Quatre so. And then Quatre is inside him, and it hurts for a moment and is strange and uncomfortable for a few moments more. But then, then, he's ready and relaxed and Quatre is so gentle, so slow, so kind.
"Are you ready?" he murmurs in Trowa's ear, and it takes all of Trowa's control to say "please."
When Quatre is inside him, his body so close, steady pulse of Quatre's cock, Quatre's heartbeat, the world stops, and the Gundams never existed, and there is peace without having to negotiate or fight for it. Everything stops but Quatre, beautiful, perfect Quatre, moving above him and murmuring in a language Trowa only begins to understand. It is the most beautiful sound Trowa knows.
"Ana ahbak," Quatre murmurs, and Trowa is still not sure what it means, but it means love right now, and that is all that matters.
(no subject)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2010-02-07 04:57 pm (UTC) - Expand(no subject)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2010-02-07 11:59 pm (UTC) - Expandno subject
Date: 2010-02-06 02:56 pm (UTC)Tosei's battery past and future: Kazuki/Junta Junta/Rio Kazuki/Rio/Junta (or in any other order)
Prompt: Passing the torch. Learning how to handle your pitcher from the Master.
belated correction
Date: 2010-02-07 09:33 pm (UTC)