Porn Battle Fic xplay: Alec/Bela, 'Dystopic'
Title: Dystopic
Fandom-Pairing: Dark Angel/Supernatural Crossover- Alec/Bela
Rating, Word Count, Notes: NC-17, ~1000 words, for oxoniensis's Porn Battle under the prompt of Stealth.
Stealth is Bela's middle fucking name, thanks much. There are times, though, when the sheer force of Breaking and Entering, gives her a tight little thrill right when it counts, just like firing a gun, or beating the pulp out of someone right before they're about to kill you.
She picks the lock to his apartment all easy-as-you-please, knowing he's not home. She's quiet and neat, but his new day job makes him easier to track. He at least doesn't just fuck people over, which is always a big bonus, especially since he's often time her best bet for a reliable partner when she's in Seattle in more ways than one.
Once she's inside, though, she ditches her clothes and hides behind the door, rubbing at herself until she's waiting for him, naked and wet, all hungry and ready to fuck because she knows what her scent does to him, how hard it drives him wild. She knows his wide eyed stare as every bit of it focus is narrowed onto her, knows his heat and his passion.
She knows his secret too, though. She knows who he is, but refuses to tell him, thinks it's the only lubrication she has left in a relationship so odd she can't even think of the proper terminology for it. Often she just relates it to the rest of the state of this world after the pulse, fucked up and dystopic, less-than-ideal.
She squeezes into the space behind his door, hides away as the door finally opens and he walks in, quietly. He's undoing his bike gloves, scratching at the back of his neck. She wonders fleetingly if he's removed his barcode, the one he's not very careful about displaying, nowadays, lingers for that skin on her lips.
"Hello, Bela," he says, "You didn't even call this time."
"Did I have to?" she asks, carefully. "Last time I checked, your warm embrace was more than open whenever I'm in town."
He turns around and strides up to her, almost teleporting from one side of the room to the other, crowding into her space. She eases herself around him, pushing back like she knows he likes. "Last time I checked, you were supposed to give me thirty five percent. What happened to that deal, hmm?"
"The check was in the mail," She says, checking his pockets. "What, no condoms? Whose delicacies did you partake in today, Alec?"
His lips pull up into an arrogant smirk. "In the mail, my ass. I don't carry things I know I won't be using."
"Oh, now I know you're new to this whole thing, but there are just some things are bad form."
"Second thigh pocket on the left," he says.
"Don't scare me like that."
The first touch of his lips on hers makes her feel like she's in a science fiction harlequin novel. He's made to hunt, she's built to be his prey, and they kiss just like that, just like there's nothing in the world that wouldn't make her happier than to spend the rest of her nights under him in his bed. She's not nearly this submissive normally, but he's irresistable as a package can get at times like this, all that power in an effective package.
He uses that muscle on her, presses up against her and presses her into the door, holds her legs up. She writhes, rubbing against the seam of his jeans, right at that hard cock, a harmless tease meant to incite.
"Don't do that to me, not yet. I wanna make you come, first," Alec says, assuredly.
"Well, that's a new one," she says, but he still undoes his pants and lets them drop to the floor, picking up a condom from the back pocket. He keeps his shirt on, but sheathes himself and slides in timidly, without help at all, she's so wet. He presses her into the corner with ultra-human strength, kisses her thick and hot like he never wants her to come up for air, and slides inside her to watch his own cock impale her.
"Fuck me," She demands, but remembers that Alec's the kind of man who would rather make his own fate, anyway.
He pounds into her, as if she weighs nothing and has settled around his dick like a hand. It's fierce, angry and a little bit daunting, if it weren't for the fact that Alec knows she loves it this way, like using an atomic bomb on a crumpled ball of paper. He knows how to make her feel good, every stroke angled for the perfect effect, letting her come alive around him. She squeezes at the core of him, crying out as bliss flushes into her face.
They kiss softly like old lovers after a fight, tight and thrashing as old demons come to the forefront. She reaches around him, fingers running idly over his barcode, but he simply grabs at both of her hands and holds them at the wrist above her head, pinning her in place for his final assualt.
"So what did you come here for, really?" Alec asks, strained as he thrusts deeper into her, farther and sharper than she's had in a long time.
"Got a client," She says on the tail end of a moan, trying not to think too hard, or let himself go completely.
"Lemmie guess, you want my help?" he asks.
"If it's not too much trouble," she says. With his other hand, he licks the pad of his thumb and seeks it out on her clit. She arches up and gives in, coming in tight squirts around him. He does the same inside her, every little orgasmic shove harder and harder inside her until she swears his cock is tapping at the bottom of her throat.
He lets her down because they both need to rest. He'll eat her out later (with lazy-slow tongue and half-lidded eyes, her thighs surrounding his neck and shoulders, the smell of her all around him and she knows what that does to him, too), and they'll go and steal that artifact that she came to Seattle for and then they'll spend the next few nights destroying each other sexually.
Bela wonders if she'll ever need to tell him she knows his darkest secret. Until she does, she knows this relationship's better if she just keeps mum.
Fandom-Pairing: Dark Angel/Supernatural Crossover- Alec/Bela
Rating, Word Count, Notes: NC-17, ~1000 words, for oxoniensis's Porn Battle under the prompt of Stealth.
Stealth is Bela's middle fucking name, thanks much. There are times, though, when the sheer force of Breaking and Entering, gives her a tight little thrill right when it counts, just like firing a gun, or beating the pulp out of someone right before they're about to kill you.
She picks the lock to his apartment all easy-as-you-please, knowing he's not home. She's quiet and neat, but his new day job makes him easier to track. He at least doesn't just fuck people over, which is always a big bonus, especially since he's often time her best bet for a reliable partner when she's in Seattle in more ways than one.
Once she's inside, though, she ditches her clothes and hides behind the door, rubbing at herself until she's waiting for him, naked and wet, all hungry and ready to fuck because she knows what her scent does to him, how hard it drives him wild. She knows his wide eyed stare as every bit of it focus is narrowed onto her, knows his heat and his passion.
She knows his secret too, though. She knows who he is, but refuses to tell him, thinks it's the only lubrication she has left in a relationship so odd she can't even think of the proper terminology for it. Often she just relates it to the rest of the state of this world after the pulse, fucked up and dystopic, less-than-ideal.
She squeezes into the space behind his door, hides away as the door finally opens and he walks in, quietly. He's undoing his bike gloves, scratching at the back of his neck. She wonders fleetingly if he's removed his barcode, the one he's not very careful about displaying, nowadays, lingers for that skin on her lips.
"Hello, Bela," he says, "You didn't even call this time."
"Did I have to?" she asks, carefully. "Last time I checked, your warm embrace was more than open whenever I'm in town."
He turns around and strides up to her, almost teleporting from one side of the room to the other, crowding into her space. She eases herself around him, pushing back like she knows he likes. "Last time I checked, you were supposed to give me thirty five percent. What happened to that deal, hmm?"
"The check was in the mail," She says, checking his pockets. "What, no condoms? Whose delicacies did you partake in today, Alec?"
His lips pull up into an arrogant smirk. "In the mail, my ass. I don't carry things I know I won't be using."
"Oh, now I know you're new to this whole thing, but there are just some things are bad form."
"Second thigh pocket on the left," he says.
"Don't scare me like that."
The first touch of his lips on hers makes her feel like she's in a science fiction harlequin novel. He's made to hunt, she's built to be his prey, and they kiss just like that, just like there's nothing in the world that wouldn't make her happier than to spend the rest of her nights under him in his bed. She's not nearly this submissive normally, but he's irresistable as a package can get at times like this, all that power in an effective package.
He uses that muscle on her, presses up against her and presses her into the door, holds her legs up. She writhes, rubbing against the seam of his jeans, right at that hard cock, a harmless tease meant to incite.
"Don't do that to me, not yet. I wanna make you come, first," Alec says, assuredly.
"Well, that's a new one," she says, but he still undoes his pants and lets them drop to the floor, picking up a condom from the back pocket. He keeps his shirt on, but sheathes himself and slides in timidly, without help at all, she's so wet. He presses her into the corner with ultra-human strength, kisses her thick and hot like he never wants her to come up for air, and slides inside her to watch his own cock impale her.
"Fuck me," She demands, but remembers that Alec's the kind of man who would rather make his own fate, anyway.
He pounds into her, as if she weighs nothing and has settled around his dick like a hand. It's fierce, angry and a little bit daunting, if it weren't for the fact that Alec knows she loves it this way, like using an atomic bomb on a crumpled ball of paper. He knows how to make her feel good, every stroke angled for the perfect effect, letting her come alive around him. She squeezes at the core of him, crying out as bliss flushes into her face.
They kiss softly like old lovers after a fight, tight and thrashing as old demons come to the forefront. She reaches around him, fingers running idly over his barcode, but he simply grabs at both of her hands and holds them at the wrist above her head, pinning her in place for his final assualt.
"So what did you come here for, really?" Alec asks, strained as he thrusts deeper into her, farther and sharper than she's had in a long time.
"Got a client," She says on the tail end of a moan, trying not to think too hard, or let himself go completely.
"Lemmie guess, you want my help?" he asks.
"If it's not too much trouble," she says. With his other hand, he licks the pad of his thumb and seeks it out on her clit. She arches up and gives in, coming in tight squirts around him. He does the same inside her, every little orgasmic shove harder and harder inside her until she swears his cock is tapping at the bottom of her throat.
He lets her down because they both need to rest. He'll eat her out later (with lazy-slow tongue and half-lidded eyes, her thighs surrounding his neck and shoulders, the smell of her all around him and she knows what that does to him, too), and they'll go and steal that artifact that she came to Seattle for and then they'll spend the next few nights destroying each other sexually.
Bela wonders if she'll ever need to tell him she knows his darkest secret. Until she does, she knows this relationship's better if she just keeps mum.