porn battle entries (better late than never, right?)
title: there are some better uses for the lasso of truth
fandom:the office
character(s)/pairing(s): pam/karen
rating: nc17
word count: 417
prompt: wonder, strong for the porn battle
spoilers: none
author's note: if you need some visuals, this is pam’s costume and here is karen’s.
summary: when pam was growing up, in the days when she’d fold herself up into an origami shape in from of the television on saturday mornings, she discovered that she definitely had a weakness for the superheroes.
When Pam was growing up, in the days when she’d fold herself up into an origami shape in from of the television on Saturday mornings, she discovered that she definitely had a weakness for the superheroes. Something about stopping bullets and tying up criminals got her little thirteen year old mind racing.
But that’s not the unusual part.
See, here’s the thing: it wasn’t Clark Kent’s broad shoulders miraculously fitting into that phone booth, ripping off his white collared shirt and slipping into something a bit more comfortable, that happened to be blue and yellow and red and spandex, that made her melt. It wasn’t Batman’s blue, pointy ears, or Aquaman’s boyishly mussed blonde hair. Frankly, she though the rest of the Super Friends were a little lame. No, her obsession lay within a gravity-defying red and gold-plated bustier, star-spangled boy-shorts and a pair of knee-high, red pleather boots.
Wonder Woman was confident to a level that Pam could only idolize, held her own among the big-name boys of the future Justice League. And she was hot. Whether in the form of a sketched cartoon or in the live action shoes of Lynda Carter, Pam found herself practically suctioned to the screen.
All this, of course, is to explain why, when Karen walks into the Halloween party in a painfully familiar leotard, you won’t think less of Pam for flushing strawberry pink and squeezing her thighs together.
All of Karen’s thick, dark hair has been tussled into chunky waves and is being held back by a metallic headband. Never has that red star seemed more like a bulls eye, flashing in the light like a huge, neon sign: fuck me.
Of course it isn’t until two hours and three shots of liquid courage later, with one hand on the bathroom counter for balance and one pushing aside the scrap of blue fabric between Karen’s thighs, that Pam gets the advantage. She’s just beginning to curse the functionality of one-pieces when Karen leans her head back into the mirror, making their reflections shake like the tremors running up her legs.
“You know,” Karen breathes, a desperate hand tugging the tie around Pam’s neck to pull her closer, “you’ll probably think it’s silly, but I always had a thing for Annie Hall. Something about wide-legged khakis and that black vest and uhg-” she grunts as Pam’s fingers finally stop making the rounds and thrust into her.
Pam giggles, simultaneously tracing the gold etching on Karen’s breasts.
“You don’t say.”
title: two is better than one
fandom: lost
character(s)/pairing(s): claire/kate
rating: nc17
word count: 149
prompt: 'aaron has two mommies' for the femslash_today porn battle
spoilers: nothing recent
summary: "this was a bad idea."
“This was a bad idea,” Kate pants, her back digging into some poor kid’s cubby and her hand, trying to gain purchase, knocks over a few action figures.
Claire nods distractedly, hand buried inside Kate’s jeans and looking a little flushed herself.
“One of your worst.” The classroom, thankfully, is empty, but they can hear the murmurs of a lesson about mixing colors through the wall behind them. “I mean, what would the principal think?”
Kate shudders, her eyes fluttering closed and her hips stilling, and Claire grins. For a former criminal, she sure has a fetish for getting caught.
“He’d probably give some talk to the class about Aaron having two mommies,” Kate murmurs into Claire’s neck, as they’re walking hand in hand into the parent-teacher conference.
Claire giggles and wraps an arm around Kate’s waist.
“Well then I guess we should give them something to talk about.”
title: hypothermia never brought us closer
fandom: the office
character(s)/pairing(s): jim/pam
rating: r
word count: 202
prompt: cold for the porn battle
spoilers: s4 (takes place during their stay at dwight's in "money")
summary: "your toes are like stubby little icicles.”
“I’m cold.”
“How? You’ve got a bajillion blankets over there.”
“Umm, maybe because this place doesn’t appear to have central heating?”
“Point.”
“What are you doing?”
“Pushing the beds together.”
“Oh. Why didn’t we think of that before?”
“Probably because this situation feels strangely like a co-ed sleepover and we didn’t want to get grounded.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Hey! That’s just cruel. Your toes are like stubby little icicles.”
“But your thigh is so warm.”
“So you decided to punish it?”
“I can think of other ways to get toasty. If you’d prefer?”
…
“Oh! Oh, yeah. Righ-ri-right there.”
“Shhh.”
“Shh? Really?”
“I don’t want Dwight to come busting in here because he’s convinced the room is infested with raccoons. I think that would be scarring for all involved.”
“Wait. Are you saying my sex noises resemble those of a woodland creature?”
“Umm… no?”
“Goodnight.”
“Oh come on, Pam, don’t turn away. I think it’s cute.”
“Oh yeah? Maybe you should go find Rocky or Thumper to hump instead.”
“Nice rhyme.”
“Thank you.”
“Just… please come back? I’m delirious with exhaustion; I can’t be held accountable for my words.”
“Jim! Stop that, it tickles! Stop- d-don’t stop. Oh god.”
“How are your toes now?”
title: an angel in devil's clothing
fandom: lost/battlestar galactica
character(s)/pairing(s): juliet/head!six
rating: pg13
word count: 177
prompt: blondes for the porn battle
spoilers: nothing recent
summary: she is a ghost.
She is a ghost.
She is the flash of red and gold out of the corner of Juliet’s eye, the uptake in her breath when she swears she can feel the warm press of another body against her back. She is both the solid form that stands just before her in that meadow outside of camp, always seeming to be out of reach, and the absence of anything visual, anything real. There are moments when the shadows gather in Juliet’s bedroom at night, and she swears she can feel her fingers tracing inconsequential patterns along her flesh.
But when she opens her eyes, her touch is merely the whisper of the breeze against the underside of her bare breasts. She is alone.
She is the flutter of nameless breath along the insides on her lips, and the spoken words that are lost in the cacophony of nature. She is a bright balloon that floats off into the sun that only seems to shrink as time passes.
She is all this, and yet Juliet never knew her name.