open meme: mid-fuck
mid-fuck meme
Sick of wining and dining? Do you wish you could skip the foreplay and just cut to the porn already?
Well then, this meme is for you.
1. Post with your character in the middle of fucking or being fucked. Anything goes!
You can list your character name/canon/partner preference in the subject line if you want.
2. Other characters reply as ( Read more... )
There's a slight wince at the sharp trace of nails along his cheek, the cooling-blood sensation of what's probably a brighter red along the edges of the scar there. A wince, lips parted slightly for a second at the waft of breath from a murmured giggle almost but not quite there, and then a glare. No, you're not.
Because, you see, he hasn't broken eye contact once yet. A struggle to accomplish, but this (the roll of the hips, rhythm not yet broken just) is a struggle.
So maybe that's why he retaliates just a little. A hand (the right; human) brushes her thigh for a moment, that almost experimental kind of way for an imaginary millisecond (breath, ragged, eyes still locked--maybe a little unfocused though), before settling at the start of the small curve there just below the small of the back--and then pulling her somewhat roughly against him on the next rise. (A definite, almost surprised inhale then, but hard as it is to focus he will.)
Maybe she's on top, but she's not topping. ]
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[But no, it can't be him. No matter how much - or how little? - she wishes it could be. Allen is Allen. Allen is Allen. Right? And for as much as Allen's stare is settling and infuriating, the knowledge of that impossibility is equally as settling and equally as infuriating.]
[And perhaps that is why she had felt it necessary to mar that little bit of resemblance. A little bit of red - such a stark contrast to his skin and his hair and his eyes - to take away the bite.]
[Being yanked closer is enough to break her reverie - but not her gaze. She's pulled flush against him - noses almost touching - but she doesn't close the gap. Instead, a tendril of red appears from above her head, shining like soft silk ( ... )
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That's the only way it works.
It's important. It's important that he not look away, that he's able to match to--
That the only person seen here is--
Concentration or something else, he bites his lip lightly at the shift (the hand steadying and helping pace at her hip spasms for a moment; but it's quick and corrected), worrying it between his teeth for a moment in that way where really, every instinct is to squeeze one's eyes shut. But he won't--just swallow and move.
--But there's a hazy blink for a second, periphery of the vague implication of something there above her (red splashing the white and the black; his inhumanly pale appearance curled over by her darker one, the jag of bleeding red the color in it all), the sudden fixation with a slight puff of a breath exhaled that she was a breath away like that, but Rhode ( ... )
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[-- Allen. Allen is Allen. He always would be Allen. It is a terrifying thought in every sense of the word. Tyki had fought It for a long, long time, and Neah before him; they all had fought It. That was why she had loved them so much. They were strong and defiant, and that was just what she loved about them.]
[But ultimately, strong, defiant, or not, it didn't matter; they weren't going to succeed.]
[However. Allen, on the other hand ---]
[His hand is warm while her own skin is, for one reason or another, cool to the touch; the feeling of his palm laying flat against her hip causes a wave of goosebumps to course over her skin, and she shivers. Shivers. It's an unnatural feeling for someone - something? What a curious thought - that was generally the thing that went bump in the night, but one that she finds is quite delightful in itself. Thrilling.]
[The irony is that it is is also such a human thing to feel.]
[And as if to punish - reward? - him for making her shiver, for making her feel so ( ... )
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(Don't blink.)
Because all it really takes is that and his head's jerked back a little as well, startled because (stilled for a second because)--
'...Allen.'
So yes, he does blink for a second and suddenly that is Allen despite the bit of blood mixed with sweat on his cheek staining there. The snapped both out of and to the moment kind of surprise (fingers in her hair flex for a second, the kind where he might be drawing his hand back except he doesn't quite) where he just looks for a moment up at her. Where lips are parted for a second like he's about to say something in return and--doesn't.
Just that steady, clear-eyed look for a moment even if maybe more than a little hesitant. Like--
--that was against the rules.
But you know what?
He kind of hates games.
And then--he smiles. Just that little kind, kind of almost apologetic but not really, about three shades of gray into I know and everything that goes along with that ( ... )
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[... stealing kisses and playing games had been one thing - this... this, whatever this is, it isn't a game anymore; it is something else entirely. This is completely against the grain, completely against the tides, completely against the rules - which is saying something, as Rhode isn't usually one to follow anyone's rules but her own.]
[Her fingers twitch when he smiles - as if she is about to clench them into his coat and then doesn't - and her eyes fall to the curve of his lips. She might have won the first battle of wits - the battle to keep eyes open, to keep watching - before, but she's certainly losing this war now.]
[When Allen leans forward, Rhode doesn't move at all -- except for when her eyes finally flutter shut, long dark eyelashes brushing her cheeks, and she meets his ( ... )
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And there was just the faintest sound from him before that, at how she shivered and clenched and it was almost a surprised sound but appreciative as well; reflected with a tightened if shaky grip on her hip.
--Though what followed was something he should have expected. Maybe half did, maybe half didn't.
Either way.
'Blood of the Lamb.'
Eyes that had drifted shut snap wide with a full-body jolt at the bite and sudden taste of his own blood as well. A half-muffled and surprised (pained) 'ah-!' as his head almost jerks back even as his spine arches reflexively, along with a tiny half-panicked snap up of his hips against his will.
(Not that he actually noticed for a moment. That hurt, damnit.But even with the blood and half mad over it enough to pull back and spit it out with a glare--he doesn't. Just a frozen pause for a moment--and then instead he cants his head a little and parts his mouth openly against hers; just for a moment that warm shared ( ... )
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[Coiling, coiling, coiling...]
[And for that, Rhode lets out a withering trill.]
[Stupid boy. Such a stupid, stupid boy. How was it possible to feel like this? To feel like she's flesh and bone and blood and not the wispy, horrifying things that children feared when they crawled into their beds or drove adults into madness? How was it possible for him to make her feel this way?]
[Human?]
[Rhode is trying so, so hard to keep drawing away, to properly screw her head back on her shoulders, to properly dig her nails into his skin and rip him to pieces - because she shouldn't feel this way, she shouldn't feel human - but there's the ( ... )
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And then--
Then the actual gauntlet was thrown down.
Startled, for a moment it's all he can do to almost scramble, rolling with her and he very nearly doesn't except by some miracle of haphazard grace and managing to brace himself. And fronts and masks and everything he had been holding on stubbornly kind of falls aside in a plainly surprised expression for a moment.
Almost--awed, and holding himself very still over her for a second. ]
Rho--
[ But then it would make sense to be cut off by her cutting him, so to speak. ]
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Stop. Biting. Damnit.
Except when she rips away to gulp in air he's more than a little ragged in breath again and sucking in more air than he thought he needed (automatic lick of the lips for a moment, a little annoyed at the sensation of blood from where she bit him). ... And glaring a little for the wound, but he braces and shifts more upright for a second.
Just a small movement at first, still holding himself up and running the hand that had been at her waist down and then up along the underside of her thigh even as his brows knit a little in barely-together concentration. Just encouraging her leg up a bit more, back a little more--
--until something ( ... )
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[Nevermind that a violent and messy challenge is how this had started in the first place. Nevermind that that means it might happen again.]
[Rhode is a lot of things, but accepting change is not one of them. She had been, once. Once. A long time ago. But time has a habit of making a girl wiser. Change, she learned, has a nasty habit of bringing forth lots of things, things that make even her quiver in her bed at night, afraid of the things that might be lurking in shadows, things that bring with them the memory of her family dying in growing pools of blood ( ... )
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[Because Allen has already stripped her of so much, has brought her back to a place she told herself she wouldn't ever go again - and god damn it, she isn't going to go down without a little defiance. Because that is exactly the reaction she's looking for: that one little crack in his veneer, something to unveil what's lying just beneath his surface. If he can strip her of hers, damn it all, she is going to do the same. It's only fair.]
[Rhode isn't as taken by surprise by the second kiss - not even by the intensity of it - as she is by the way she's suddenly pinned against him, and for that she manages an almost-pained squeak; another high-pitched trill. She meets his glare with an even expression - as even as she can manage, really, which isn't saying much; the sweat beading along her forehead and clinging her hair to her skin makes her look feverish - even her cheeks are starting to flush.]
[Like a little girl trying hard to not get caught doing a bad, bad thing.]
[Her toes curl at his touch, and her leg follows his hand, ( ... )
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