fanfic - BSG/HIMYM
Title: Aim and fire
Fandom/pairing: Battlestar Galactica/How I Met Your Mother; Kara/Robin
Word count: 740
Rating: R
Summary: Robin's dreams take an unusual turn. For bsg-pornbattle; prompt: shooting range; original posting here.
Notes: So, this is different. Apparently, it was more important for me to spontaneously write my first ever crossover in the form of Kara Thrace/Robin Scherbatsky porn than it was for me to get more than four hours of sleep last night. Go figure. This is never something I would have envisioned myself writing, but I decided to glance at the prompts and once I saw this one, it simply would not leave my head. Um, have fun!
Notes 2.0: I... don't even know whether to cross-post this? WE'LL SEE.
It seemed to Robin that her head had barely hit the pillow when her eyes flew open. “Wha?” She bolted upright and swiveled her head in search of whatever had jerked her from her sleep. She blinked.
She rubbed her eyes. She blinked again.
She was seated not on her bed, but on a varnished wood countertop. She examined herself, and found her pajamas had been replaced with shorts and a tight black tank top. No bra.
“This is weird,” Robin said aloud.
A loud crack! made her jump. She slid off the counter, rounded the corner, and walked straight into a tough-looking blonde fiddling with a pistol.
“Oh!” Robin exclaimed. “Excuse me.”
The girl stepped backwards, and Robin was able to get a better look at her. Short, choppy hair and a scrappy look, and there was an air about her that put Robin on her guard, yet she was attractive in a rascally sort of way, fit and curvy. A pretty girl with a pistol always won Robin’s respect.
Robin looked up to discover she was being similarly sized up. The girl was regarding her with an expression Robin couldn’t quite identify. Amusement, maybe, or disdain, or possibly a combination. Then she grinned and stuck out her hand. “Kara.”
“Robin.” She squeezed the girl’s hand as she shook it, and was rewarded with an approving glance.
“Got a good arm there, Robin. You shoot?”
Robin was struck with the need to match this girl, to both compete with her and impress her. “Hell yeah.”
Kara’s grin widened. “Show me whatcha got.”
Without a word, Robin took the pistol out of Kara’s hands. She strode over to the range, took aim, and discharged five bullets. She stepped aside with a broad gesture, inviting Kara to look. Kara’s eyebrows rose. “Nice.” She turned to face Robin full-on. “Really nice.” She took a step forward. Robin didn’t blink. Kara leaned in until Robin could feel her breath on her face. “Now you get a reward.”
Her eyes never leaving Robin’s, Kara found the hem of her top. Her fingertips slid underneath and began to inch their way up. Robin swallowed, but she stood stock still and did not look away. “That’s it,” Kara whispered. Robin reached behind Kara, slipped the gun into her back pocket, and found the belt loops of her cargo pants.
Kara’s hands reached Robin’s breasts. Her fingers were cold and quick, circling Robin’s nipples and tugging at the puckered skin. Her enigmatic smile never wavered.
Robin moved imperceptibly closer, the tip of her nose flirting with Kara’s. Kara murmured appreciatively. “Good move, Robin.” She slid her hands down until they rested on Robin’s hips. One treacherously cold finger skated along the waistband of her shorts, paused, and dipped out of sight, and that was when Robin kissed her.
Kara’s tongue and finger entered her simultaneously, and Robin allowed a low moan to echo in her chest. So good so good; Robin hadn’t been kissed this well in a long time, not to mention touched. Kara’s single finger pulsed inside her, and their tongues played tug-of-war. Robin’s knuckles tightened around the stiff loops of fabric. That finger was killing her slowly, stroking steadily and relentlessly. Robin squirmed. Kara moved her free hand to the back of Robin’s thigh and drew her forward, causing Robin’s clit to come into contact with Kara’s hand. Robin strained backward, then slammed her hips against Kara’s wrist, seeking friction.
Kara put her lips next to Robin’s ear. “Wait for it,” she whispered, and Robin’s eyes widened. Kara’s eyes glinted devilishly, and her hand stopped moving. Robin shuddered with frustration, and then all at once Kara pressed her hand forward and jerked it roughly upwards, once, twice, and Robin choked back a cry as all her senses shattered. She felt herself falling, never hitting the floor, while the hot stabs of pleasure rolled on and on.
When she came back to herself, she was sticky with sweat and tangled up in her sheets, her pajama bottoms twisted and bunched around her thighs.
She counted to five, then shakily eased her feet onto the floor. She made her way to the mirror and examined her flushed cheeks and dampened hair. “What,” she asked her reflection, “was that?”
She waited a few more seconds before shaking her head and turning back to the bed.
She stopped.
Lying on her dresser was her small, black pistol.
Fandom/pairing: Battlestar Galactica/How I Met Your Mother; Kara/Robin
Word count: 740
Rating: R
Summary: Robin's dreams take an unusual turn. For bsg-pornbattle; prompt: shooting range; original posting here.
Notes: So, this is different. Apparently, it was more important for me to spontaneously write my first ever crossover in the form of Kara Thrace/Robin Scherbatsky porn than it was for me to get more than four hours of sleep last night. Go figure. This is never something I would have envisioned myself writing, but I decided to glance at the prompts and once I saw this one, it simply would not leave my head. Um, have fun!
Notes 2.0: I... don't even know whether to cross-post this? WE'LL SEE.
It seemed to Robin that her head had barely hit the pillow when her eyes flew open. “Wha?” She bolted upright and swiveled her head in search of whatever had jerked her from her sleep. She blinked.
She rubbed her eyes. She blinked again.
She was seated not on her bed, but on a varnished wood countertop. She examined herself, and found her pajamas had been replaced with shorts and a tight black tank top. No bra.
“This is weird,” Robin said aloud.
A loud crack! made her jump. She slid off the counter, rounded the corner, and walked straight into a tough-looking blonde fiddling with a pistol.
“Oh!” Robin exclaimed. “Excuse me.”
The girl stepped backwards, and Robin was able to get a better look at her. Short, choppy hair and a scrappy look, and there was an air about her that put Robin on her guard, yet she was attractive in a rascally sort of way, fit and curvy. A pretty girl with a pistol always won Robin’s respect.
Robin looked up to discover she was being similarly sized up. The girl was regarding her with an expression Robin couldn’t quite identify. Amusement, maybe, or disdain, or possibly a combination. Then she grinned and stuck out her hand. “Kara.”
“Robin.” She squeezed the girl’s hand as she shook it, and was rewarded with an approving glance.
“Got a good arm there, Robin. You shoot?”
Robin was struck with the need to match this girl, to both compete with her and impress her. “Hell yeah.”
Kara’s grin widened. “Show me whatcha got.”
Without a word, Robin took the pistol out of Kara’s hands. She strode over to the range, took aim, and discharged five bullets. She stepped aside with a broad gesture, inviting Kara to look. Kara’s eyebrows rose. “Nice.” She turned to face Robin full-on. “Really nice.” She took a step forward. Robin didn’t blink. Kara leaned in until Robin could feel her breath on her face. “Now you get a reward.”
Her eyes never leaving Robin’s, Kara found the hem of her top. Her fingertips slid underneath and began to inch their way up. Robin swallowed, but she stood stock still and did not look away. “That’s it,” Kara whispered. Robin reached behind Kara, slipped the gun into her back pocket, and found the belt loops of her cargo pants.
Kara’s hands reached Robin’s breasts. Her fingers were cold and quick, circling Robin’s nipples and tugging at the puckered skin. Her enigmatic smile never wavered.
Robin moved imperceptibly closer, the tip of her nose flirting with Kara’s. Kara murmured appreciatively. “Good move, Robin.” She slid her hands down until they rested on Robin’s hips. One treacherously cold finger skated along the waistband of her shorts, paused, and dipped out of sight, and that was when Robin kissed her.
Kara’s tongue and finger entered her simultaneously, and Robin allowed a low moan to echo in her chest. So good so good; Robin hadn’t been kissed this well in a long time, not to mention touched. Kara’s single finger pulsed inside her, and their tongues played tug-of-war. Robin’s knuckles tightened around the stiff loops of fabric. That finger was killing her slowly, stroking steadily and relentlessly. Robin squirmed. Kara moved her free hand to the back of Robin’s thigh and drew her forward, causing Robin’s clit to come into contact with Kara’s hand. Robin strained backward, then slammed her hips against Kara’s wrist, seeking friction.
Kara put her lips next to Robin’s ear. “Wait for it,” she whispered, and Robin’s eyes widened. Kara’s eyes glinted devilishly, and her hand stopped moving. Robin shuddered with frustration, and then all at once Kara pressed her hand forward and jerked it roughly upwards, once, twice, and Robin choked back a cry as all her senses shattered. She felt herself falling, never hitting the floor, while the hot stabs of pleasure rolled on and on.
When she came back to herself, she was sticky with sweat and tangled up in her sheets, her pajama bottoms twisted and bunched around her thighs.
She counted to five, then shakily eased her feet onto the floor. She made her way to the mirror and examined her flushed cheeks and dampened hair. “What,” she asked her reflection, “was that?”
She waited a few more seconds before shaking her head and turning back to the bed.
She stopped.
Lying on her dresser was her small, black pistol.