"An Open Book" (Kingdom Hearts, Larxene/Axel)
Title: An Open Book
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts (Chain of Memories)
Pairing: Larxene/Axel
Author: Mairelon
Recipient: CelticDream
Rating: R!
Warnings: BDSM, control issues.
Prompt: Axel/Larxene, something with sharp edges and power dynamics + BDSM
Axel flickers into being in the library and takes a look around, stretching.
Only Larxene is in there right now, curled up on her couch with her feet tucked up, lying on her side with a book cradled against her breasts; another pile is on the floor beside her. Axel shoves his hands into his pockets, hunches his shoulders, grins at her.
Her eyes flick over to him for a moment, heavy-lidded and amused, then back to her book.
"What is it this time?" he asks, and slings himself down into the chair across from her, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "Justine still?"
"Oh, I finished that earlier," Larxene says. One gloved fingertip traces down the page in a parody of a loving carress. She says, "Just reading some Lawrence now."
Axel slides down in his chair until he can see the title of the book. "Lady Chatterley's Lover? Little boring for you, I'd think."
"Milder, anyway," Larxene agrees. "The writing's a little overblown, but the content's right to my taste."
"Even the end?" Axel drawls.
"I haven't gotten to the end," Larxene points out, a bit sharply.
Axel says, "She leaves him, but to the end she still has to wait on him to let her go." His hand flickers in the air.
Larxene's eyes glitter at him over the edge of the book. Silently, she flips forward in it, skims down. He waits patiently, grinning at her. "Well," she says, smiling. "At the end he's still completely under someone else's control, isn't he? Whether it's this one or that one, who cares?"
"Your hobbies're really bad," Axel says, and laughs. He looks down at the pile of books. "Whatcha you doing, reading your way down a banned books list?"
She flips the book shut with a snap; if she's annoyed she's not showing it much in her body language, but her eyes are narrow as she smirks at him. "Only the ones banned for obscenity."
"You would."
"Oh, you think so?" she asks. "Uwaaaah, can you say that with your tastes?"
He moves. Walking takes too long, so he doesn't bother; he flickers from the space he'd been and reappears in front of the sofa. Slowly, he puts one hand on the back, one knee on the cushions, and leans down, grinning at her.
"My tastes?" he asks. "Larxene, you getting your preferences confused with mine again?"
"I wonder," she half sings. Her book has slipped from her hand to land by her hip; she twitches her hip to one side and it falls to the floor with a hardcover thump. Axel is over her, close enough that if she arched, she'd touch him. "What, were you hoping I'd pretend to be a little boy for you?"
"You're flat-chested enough," he says, grinning.
Larxene's lips part in a smile. Her eyelids are heavy as she stretches under him, reaches a hand up to slide slowly into his hair with the gentle rasp of leather.
And her fingers clench. She twists and drags, slamming him back. Axel's laughter as his head hits the arm of the sofa is a soft huff of air. Her thighs clench tight on either side of his broad hips; her breasts are out of reach in the air over his face. The iron grip in his hair keeps his head tilted back.
Slowly, Larxene drags her other hand down to rest over his where it's touching her hip. She curls her fingers around it, taking it in a firm grip, and slides his hand between her legs, presses it hard against her groin.
"Well?" she purrs at him. "Am I boy enough for you yet?"
"Your cock is pretty small," he agrees; his thumb rubs her through her pants, over where her clit must be. It has to be pretty strong-feeling, but although her eyes narrow abruptly, she doesn't twitch.
Instead she laughs, a light mocking sound. "I could still fuck you with it."
"Yeah? Just how I like it, huh?" he asks.
Her fingers tighten in his hair. His neck is arched backward, tense and straining muscles and tendons marking it.
"Just how I like it," she says. She lets go of his hand and slides hers up her own body, drags her zipper down. Her breasts are small enough that she doesn't bother with a bra; they are high and well-shaped and their nipples are hard.
"Oho," he says, still grinning with his teeth. "And you really, really like it, huh?"
"The thought of tying you up and fucking you, all helpless under me?" Larxene asks, mockingly. Her hand leaves her zipper and instead closes around his throat, thumb dragging a roughly painful line over his adam's apple. He swallows reflexively. "It's not bad."
Axel narrows his eyes at her. "Hey, hey," he protests. "Who said anything about tying me up?"
"Who'd fuck you without it?" she says, lifting a brow. "It's not like I trust you to have any idea what to do with your hands."
He curls his fingers against her and squeezes.
Her teeth grit inside her smile. "Mmmhmm," she says. "Like I said."
It's not a safe position to be in, but winning Larxene's trust generally isn't. Axel digs his fingers in, slightly, hard enough that he manages to press a small amount of the leather of her pants into her, and then lets go, relaxing back slowly and draping long gangly limbs over his head. "Well?"
It seems to take her a moment before she can speak; she smirks at him, and she's got her cute and sweet face on. Lying little bitch. "You're being a good boy, aren't you?" Larxene asks him. "You want me to play with you?"
"You the kind to tear the heads off your dolls?"
A high, girlish laugh. "Well, I wonder! You'll find out, won't you?"
He closes his eyes and draws a slow, careful breath in as she climbs off him, reaches between the pillow and the arm, as straps get wound around his wrists. "Didn't think the sofa came with those equipped. Planning ahead, Larxene? You?"
"Do you think I don't plan for my games?" Larxene asks. "There's no point playing unless you win."
Axel smiles so his lips stretch around his teeth. "Yeah," he says, and pulls slightly against the straps. "That's right."
***
Larxene fucks like she's furious, like it hurts her a little and she's mad as hell. Buried in her, Axel thrusts up hard and doesn't care if it does. She's tight, tighter than he expected, and straddling him with her pants off, her coat on and rucked up, the top zipper drawn down far enough to show her small breasts. Her gloved hands are curled against his chest like she'd claw him if she could.
She feels fucking good.
And she works hard, faster even than he might like, hips rising and falling, stretching herself around him as she grits her teeth, expression tight like she's concentrating, gaze focused inward.
He smirks at her, stretches and thrusts, laughs low and mocking. Her voice rises over the sound in sudden staccato moans as she presses down hard around him abruptly; he can feel her muscles flutter.
"You're fast," he mocks. "Too good for you?"
It looks like she's shivering. For a moment her face has gone slack, expressionless, and then she's baring her teeth at him and pulling off abruptly, throwing herself to her feet beside the sofa. She staggers, then pulls herself upright.
That is not cool. "Hey," he protests, low and threatening. "You can't just get what you want and go. It doesn't work like that, Larxene."
"Of course it does," she says. Her voice is as low and sweet as she can get it since it's gone hoarse and a little thick. She smirks at him unsteadily. "You mean, if someone like you can come back to break my little kneecaps for debts unpaid? I'd like to see you try. But don't worry, Axel -- I'm not done with you yet."
"Funny thing, Larxene," he says as she slides down to her knees beside the couch, as she rests her cheek against one of his prominent hipbones and runs a fingertip along his erection. "Your plans are always kind of sketch."
She laughs at him. "Trust me," she purrs. She licks her lips and smiles at him through narrow eyes. "I'll make you like it."
"Heh," he says. She's wetting her lips, looks like she's working up a good spit as she lets go of his cock to tug one of her gloves off, then slide a bare hand up his inner thigh. He lets his legs fall open, and she cradles his balls with her palm. "That's what I'm afraid of."
"Arara!" she says. "Are you afraid of me, then?" She sounds girlishly delighted.
"Nah," he said. "But it sounds good, doesn't it?"
"That's right, that's how it is," she says, teasing. "Are you ready? Now's your chance to back out if you're not!"
There's a bead of saliva at the corner of her lips. Putting anything in Larxene's mouth's maybe a bad idea; she's probably a biter. But what the hell. What the hell.
"Oh," he says, "I'm ready."
"Good!" she says cheerfully and shoves two fingers dry up his ass.
He curses, the sound strangled as the air rushes out from him. It burns, tight, but doesn't hurt exactly -- even that much is only from how damn tense he is. Nobodies don't exactly have any problem with stretching, and it's not like he's not used to this.
It takes him a few moments before he can find his voice to respond, though, as he tries to force himself to relax through the discomfort. "Hey," he says flatly.
"I told you," she says. She's smirking at him, cat who ate the motherfucking canary, and she licks her lips. "Didn't I say I'd fuck you just the way I liked it?"
He tilts his head back, grins at her through his teeth while eyeing her down along the line of his nose. "The way you like it's kind of boring if you're just gonna stay still."
"I suppose I shouldn't be generous, then," she says, and thrusts her fingers. She watches him, smirking, as he jerks and curses again, and then she slides a hand up his chest, stroking. "Uwaaaah, Axel, you're so pretty when you're getting fucked."
"I know," he manages. He rolls his hips back into it, pulling her fingers deeper; it's getting easier, even like this. "I really am."
"Like some kind of doll," she says. "Some demented clown doll..."
"Thanks."
She smiles. "Any time," she says, and flicks the fingers of the hand on his chest. She drags her hand down slowly; the knives she's summoned are held just above his chest, tilted slightly down so they scrape rather than cut, drawing a few drops of blood only which well up in the red lines she leaves behind.
"Fuck!"
"Axel likes pain," she sing-songs at him. "Axel likes suffering! Oh, what a scandal."
"Heh," he says, and closes his eyes, tugging against his bonds as he rocks against her fingers, breathing hard. "You have no idea."
***
She eventually gets rid of the knives and rubs her hand across his chest, smearing blood there and breathing hard as she stares at him writhing.
"Axel--"
"Touch my goddamn cock," he manages, thick, almost choked. "For fuck's sake, Larxene!"
"Oho," she says, and then, to his surprise, does. It slides against her blood-wet hand, and he thrusts into that sudden tightness, wetness, warmth, her fingers still pressing in roughly and now drawing a deep aching spark of pleasure on each thrust in.
He groans, head tilted back, mouth open, eyes closed and brows drawn down as he focuses on pleasure, every little bit he can drag out of the utter bullshit of the horribly sexy things Larxene's doing to him, hunts down that sudden growing need and, muscles shaking, practically forces himself over the edge. It's sharp and sudden and he cries out, open mouth jerking up into a grin.
Axel doesn't even have time to rock through the aftershocks before Larxene's letting go of his cock, wiping her hand off on Axel's leg, tugging her other fingers out.
Slowly, he tilts his head and looks at her. Her cheeks are flushed and she's breathing hard.
"You wanna come again?" he asks.
She glares. "Put myself in your hands when you're not distracted? I'm not stupid, Axel." One hand, ineffectively cleaned, slides down and touches herself; he sees it smear fluids when she pulls it away again abruptly. She moves around, unsnapping the straps around his wrists; he doesn't lower his arms immediately.
"You really hate being under other people's control, don't you," he says.
Larxene stares at him, then laughs. "You think you know so much!" she says lightly, teasingly, then she grabs her pants and discarded glove off the floor in a sharp, violent gesture. "It was a great playtime, Axel; let's do it again sometime."
And she's gone in a swirl of darkness.
Slowly, stiff and sore and smirking, he pushes himself upright. Her book lies discarded on the floor; he picks it up and thumbs through it with slightly numb fingers.
"Yeah, Larxene," he murmurs to the empty room. "Let's."
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts (Chain of Memories)
Pairing: Larxene/Axel
Author: Mairelon
Recipient: CelticDream
Rating: R!
Warnings: BDSM, control issues.
Prompt: Axel/Larxene, something with sharp edges and power dynamics + BDSM
Axel flickers into being in the library and takes a look around, stretching.
Only Larxene is in there right now, curled up on her couch with her feet tucked up, lying on her side with a book cradled against her breasts; another pile is on the floor beside her. Axel shoves his hands into his pockets, hunches his shoulders, grins at her.
Her eyes flick over to him for a moment, heavy-lidded and amused, then back to her book.
"What is it this time?" he asks, and slings himself down into the chair across from her, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "Justine still?"
"Oh, I finished that earlier," Larxene says. One gloved fingertip traces down the page in a parody of a loving carress. She says, "Just reading some Lawrence now."
Axel slides down in his chair until he can see the title of the book. "Lady Chatterley's Lover? Little boring for you, I'd think."
"Milder, anyway," Larxene agrees. "The writing's a little overblown, but the content's right to my taste."
"Even the end?" Axel drawls.
"I haven't gotten to the end," Larxene points out, a bit sharply.
Axel says, "She leaves him, but to the end she still has to wait on him to let her go." His hand flickers in the air.
Larxene's eyes glitter at him over the edge of the book. Silently, she flips forward in it, skims down. He waits patiently, grinning at her. "Well," she says, smiling. "At the end he's still completely under someone else's control, isn't he? Whether it's this one or that one, who cares?"
"Your hobbies're really bad," Axel says, and laughs. He looks down at the pile of books. "Whatcha you doing, reading your way down a banned books list?"
She flips the book shut with a snap; if she's annoyed she's not showing it much in her body language, but her eyes are narrow as she smirks at him. "Only the ones banned for obscenity."
"You would."
"Oh, you think so?" she asks. "Uwaaaah, can you say that with your tastes?"
He moves. Walking takes too long, so he doesn't bother; he flickers from the space he'd been and reappears in front of the sofa. Slowly, he puts one hand on the back, one knee on the cushions, and leans down, grinning at her.
"My tastes?" he asks. "Larxene, you getting your preferences confused with mine again?"
"I wonder," she half sings. Her book has slipped from her hand to land by her hip; she twitches her hip to one side and it falls to the floor with a hardcover thump. Axel is over her, close enough that if she arched, she'd touch him. "What, were you hoping I'd pretend to be a little boy for you?"
"You're flat-chested enough," he says, grinning.
Larxene's lips part in a smile. Her eyelids are heavy as she stretches under him, reaches a hand up to slide slowly into his hair with the gentle rasp of leather.
And her fingers clench. She twists and drags, slamming him back. Axel's laughter as his head hits the arm of the sofa is a soft huff of air. Her thighs clench tight on either side of his broad hips; her breasts are out of reach in the air over his face. The iron grip in his hair keeps his head tilted back.
Slowly, Larxene drags her other hand down to rest over his where it's touching her hip. She curls her fingers around it, taking it in a firm grip, and slides his hand between her legs, presses it hard against her groin.
"Well?" she purrs at him. "Am I boy enough for you yet?"
"Your cock is pretty small," he agrees; his thumb rubs her through her pants, over where her clit must be. It has to be pretty strong-feeling, but although her eyes narrow abruptly, she doesn't twitch.
Instead she laughs, a light mocking sound. "I could still fuck you with it."
"Yeah? Just how I like it, huh?" he asks.
Her fingers tighten in his hair. His neck is arched backward, tense and straining muscles and tendons marking it.
"Just how I like it," she says. She lets go of his hand and slides hers up her own body, drags her zipper down. Her breasts are small enough that she doesn't bother with a bra; they are high and well-shaped and their nipples are hard.
"Oho," he says, still grinning with his teeth. "And you really, really like it, huh?"
"The thought of tying you up and fucking you, all helpless under me?" Larxene asks, mockingly. Her hand leaves her zipper and instead closes around his throat, thumb dragging a roughly painful line over his adam's apple. He swallows reflexively. "It's not bad."
Axel narrows his eyes at her. "Hey, hey," he protests. "Who said anything about tying me up?"
"Who'd fuck you without it?" she says, lifting a brow. "It's not like I trust you to have any idea what to do with your hands."
He curls his fingers against her and squeezes.
Her teeth grit inside her smile. "Mmmhmm," she says. "Like I said."
It's not a safe position to be in, but winning Larxene's trust generally isn't. Axel digs his fingers in, slightly, hard enough that he manages to press a small amount of the leather of her pants into her, and then lets go, relaxing back slowly and draping long gangly limbs over his head. "Well?"
It seems to take her a moment before she can speak; she smirks at him, and she's got her cute and sweet face on. Lying little bitch. "You're being a good boy, aren't you?" Larxene asks him. "You want me to play with you?"
"You the kind to tear the heads off your dolls?"
A high, girlish laugh. "Well, I wonder! You'll find out, won't you?"
He closes his eyes and draws a slow, careful breath in as she climbs off him, reaches between the pillow and the arm, as straps get wound around his wrists. "Didn't think the sofa came with those equipped. Planning ahead, Larxene? You?"
"Do you think I don't plan for my games?" Larxene asks. "There's no point playing unless you win."
Axel smiles so his lips stretch around his teeth. "Yeah," he says, and pulls slightly against the straps. "That's right."
***
Larxene fucks like she's furious, like it hurts her a little and she's mad as hell. Buried in her, Axel thrusts up hard and doesn't care if it does. She's tight, tighter than he expected, and straddling him with her pants off, her coat on and rucked up, the top zipper drawn down far enough to show her small breasts. Her gloved hands are curled against his chest like she'd claw him if she could.
She feels fucking good.
And she works hard, faster even than he might like, hips rising and falling, stretching herself around him as she grits her teeth, expression tight like she's concentrating, gaze focused inward.
He smirks at her, stretches and thrusts, laughs low and mocking. Her voice rises over the sound in sudden staccato moans as she presses down hard around him abruptly; he can feel her muscles flutter.
"You're fast," he mocks. "Too good for you?"
It looks like she's shivering. For a moment her face has gone slack, expressionless, and then she's baring her teeth at him and pulling off abruptly, throwing herself to her feet beside the sofa. She staggers, then pulls herself upright.
That is not cool. "Hey," he protests, low and threatening. "You can't just get what you want and go. It doesn't work like that, Larxene."
"Of course it does," she says. Her voice is as low and sweet as she can get it since it's gone hoarse and a little thick. She smirks at him unsteadily. "You mean, if someone like you can come back to break my little kneecaps for debts unpaid? I'd like to see you try. But don't worry, Axel -- I'm not done with you yet."
"Funny thing, Larxene," he says as she slides down to her knees beside the couch, as she rests her cheek against one of his prominent hipbones and runs a fingertip along his erection. "Your plans are always kind of sketch."
She laughs at him. "Trust me," she purrs. She licks her lips and smiles at him through narrow eyes. "I'll make you like it."
"Heh," he says. She's wetting her lips, looks like she's working up a good spit as she lets go of his cock to tug one of her gloves off, then slide a bare hand up his inner thigh. He lets his legs fall open, and she cradles his balls with her palm. "That's what I'm afraid of."
"Arara!" she says. "Are you afraid of me, then?" She sounds girlishly delighted.
"Nah," he said. "But it sounds good, doesn't it?"
"That's right, that's how it is," she says, teasing. "Are you ready? Now's your chance to back out if you're not!"
There's a bead of saliva at the corner of her lips. Putting anything in Larxene's mouth's maybe a bad idea; she's probably a biter. But what the hell. What the hell.
"Oh," he says, "I'm ready."
"Good!" she says cheerfully and shoves two fingers dry up his ass.
He curses, the sound strangled as the air rushes out from him. It burns, tight, but doesn't hurt exactly -- even that much is only from how damn tense he is. Nobodies don't exactly have any problem with stretching, and it's not like he's not used to this.
It takes him a few moments before he can find his voice to respond, though, as he tries to force himself to relax through the discomfort. "Hey," he says flatly.
"I told you," she says. She's smirking at him, cat who ate the motherfucking canary, and she licks her lips. "Didn't I say I'd fuck you just the way I liked it?"
He tilts his head back, grins at her through his teeth while eyeing her down along the line of his nose. "The way you like it's kind of boring if you're just gonna stay still."
"I suppose I shouldn't be generous, then," she says, and thrusts her fingers. She watches him, smirking, as he jerks and curses again, and then she slides a hand up his chest, stroking. "Uwaaaah, Axel, you're so pretty when you're getting fucked."
"I know," he manages. He rolls his hips back into it, pulling her fingers deeper; it's getting easier, even like this. "I really am."
"Like some kind of doll," she says. "Some demented clown doll..."
"Thanks."
She smiles. "Any time," she says, and flicks the fingers of the hand on his chest. She drags her hand down slowly; the knives she's summoned are held just above his chest, tilted slightly down so they scrape rather than cut, drawing a few drops of blood only which well up in the red lines she leaves behind.
"Fuck!"
"Axel likes pain," she sing-songs at him. "Axel likes suffering! Oh, what a scandal."
"Heh," he says, and closes his eyes, tugging against his bonds as he rocks against her fingers, breathing hard. "You have no idea."
***
She eventually gets rid of the knives and rubs her hand across his chest, smearing blood there and breathing hard as she stares at him writhing.
"Axel--"
"Touch my goddamn cock," he manages, thick, almost choked. "For fuck's sake, Larxene!"
"Oho," she says, and then, to his surprise, does. It slides against her blood-wet hand, and he thrusts into that sudden tightness, wetness, warmth, her fingers still pressing in roughly and now drawing a deep aching spark of pleasure on each thrust in.
He groans, head tilted back, mouth open, eyes closed and brows drawn down as he focuses on pleasure, every little bit he can drag out of the utter bullshit of the horribly sexy things Larxene's doing to him, hunts down that sudden growing need and, muscles shaking, practically forces himself over the edge. It's sharp and sudden and he cries out, open mouth jerking up into a grin.
Axel doesn't even have time to rock through the aftershocks before Larxene's letting go of his cock, wiping her hand off on Axel's leg, tugging her other fingers out.
Slowly, he tilts his head and looks at her. Her cheeks are flushed and she's breathing hard.
"You wanna come again?" he asks.
She glares. "Put myself in your hands when you're not distracted? I'm not stupid, Axel." One hand, ineffectively cleaned, slides down and touches herself; he sees it smear fluids when she pulls it away again abruptly. She moves around, unsnapping the straps around his wrists; he doesn't lower his arms immediately.
"You really hate being under other people's control, don't you," he says.
Larxene stares at him, then laughs. "You think you know so much!" she says lightly, teasingly, then she grabs her pants and discarded glove off the floor in a sharp, violent gesture. "It was a great playtime, Axel; let's do it again sometime."
And she's gone in a swirl of darkness.
Slowly, stiff and sore and smirking, he pushes himself upright. Her book lies discarded on the floor; he picks it up and thumbs through it with slightly numb fingers.
"Yeah, Larxene," he murmurs to the empty room. "Let's."