Tuesday, July 12, 2011

A Spain Lemon -- The Art of Being Spanish

Character: Spain

Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia

OC: Brigida Vargas, Sicily, Age 21, part of the Mafia

Inspiration: A Spanish version of Pepé le Pew XD

It was rather cramped in the room, but unfortunately there was nothing to be done about it. Brigida didn’t much enjoy being thrown into a moving car and hauled to some lame party, you see. She had to practically beat France away from her with the handle of her gun, and even then the country just wouldn’t leave her alone. (Something about her ‘rejoining’ him again.)

After spending a entire hour searching for someone deserving of her company – and a less dangerous but still effective weapon to defend herself with – Brigida had finally decided that it was a waste. There wasn’t really anybody she wanted to hang out with anyway, and only other girls were either far to soft spoken (Lily), or way too insane (Belarus). Eventually she just ended up pressed against the wall, as though trying to blend in with the off-white paint. Needless to say, it wasn’t working. At all.

How someone like Bigida could blend in, nobody knew. She was loud and obnoxious at her best, and seemed to have a talent for making anyone who spoke to her look like a fool. Which was why only the most brave of heart even dared. (Plus, she was downright scary with that gun latched forever to her belt.)

“Mi tomate!”

Oops. Bigida cringed in a fear of her own. It seemed that she had only one weakness, and the source of said calamity was what shocked most of the other countries. Quick as anything, Brigida flew from the wall and began racing away. Unfortunately for her, a swift arm stopped her as it wrapped around her abdomen, and she was abruptly pulled into a warm chest.

“Aww, mi tomate was trying to run away, wasn’t she?” a voice cooed in her ear. Her complexion paled dramatically as the other arm wrapped itself around her. She was immediately and affectionately thrust farther into the warm chest as a nose began nuzzling her neck. “Mmmhmm! Mi tomate shouldn’t be so afraid of me,” he purred, nipping at her ear. A squeal left her lips before she could stop it, and the noise had Spain chuckling lowly.

Thankfully, before Spain could do anymore damage to her poor nerves, dinner was called. He sighed and slowly extricated his limbs from their hold, taking his sweet time. Brigida was quick to finish what she so desired to do: run away. A moment later, she was no where in sight.

Another amused chuckle tore through Spain’s throat. He loved it when she played this particular game. From beside him, France pouted, “Mon ami, how do you do it?”

The man on Spain’s other side laughed heartily. With a sweep of his silver hair, Prussia muttered, “The question is when are you gonna do it? I think you deserve a nice lay.”

Spain grinned and shrugged. Together, the three began walking toward the dining room. A smirk played on his lips, “Tonight’s the night.” Another sharp grin, “Whether Mi Tomate likes it or not~”

Before entering the room, Prussia chuckled, “Kinky.”

France merely rolled his eyes.

// Dinner //

Dinner was a hazardous affair at best. Even though the conversation was anything but dangerous, the man who was the bane of Brigida’s existence always seemed to have something to say...and that something was usually either completely embarrassing, or utterly perverted. (And, to add to her problems, he had to be sitting right next to her. Her luck was obviously exceptional.)

If that wasn’t enough, Spain wasn’t just a verbal character, he was also a physical one, which why Brigida was feeling rather cornered even though she was surrounded by so many people.

America was busy prattling on about some new ‘awesome plan’ and how it was going to ‘save our planet from the evils of pollution’ when Brigida felt it first. She had just lifted her glass to her lips and was enjoying her dinner as much as she could when she suddenly choked on her ice water. The hand on her upper thigh gave her an amused squeeze.

She shot a glare at Spain, who was undoubtedly the one behind this, and was about to say something when England spoke up, “Are you quite alright, Miss Sicily?”

His green eyes were concerned, but Brigida couldn’t focus on him. Her glaring eyes didn’t leave Spain’s grinning face, “Yes. Quite alright.” And then America spoke up again with another plan that would ‘blow everyone away’.

As soon as everyone’s attention was turned pointedly away from the duo, Brigida hissed, “Remove your hand from my thigh.” Her voice was coated with annoyance and disgust, but instead of making Spain frightened like it was meant to, he merely grinned widely and shrugged.

“Aw, but Mi Tomate has such a supple pair of legs – “ he groaned painfully when Brigida stomped on his foot to silence him. Needless to say, it didn’t work. “If you would only allow me to satiate my hunger I would stop – “ This time, he didn’t bother hiding the grunt of pain, and received many weary glances from other countries.

“Ah, what can I do?” Spain muttered mournfully, finally taking back his hand. He sniffled in a self-depreciating way – probably thinking it would force some sort of reacting from Brigida – and began stabbing his fork into a meatball. “Love hurts.”

The comment nearly made Brigida snap her own fork in half. She turned a sneer his way and ignored the anime tears that ran down his face.

It was about fifteen minutes later before Antonio tried anything else on Brigida. This time, America didn’t have the floor. (But he was helping himself to third helping of Hamburger Casserole...England would let him bring in actual Hamburgers, you see.) Germany was busy reading from a long list of things that needed fixing, while the other countries nodded sleepily over their half eaten meals. Italy was the only one who seemed to be listening attentively...but there was still that ever present dazed look in his honeyed eyes.

Brigida ignored everyone and reached for her wine glass. That was what she needed right now: a little bit of that bitterly sweet liquid to keel her over. Span watched with predatory lust as she brought it to her desirous lips. His fingers twitched when she tilted her head slightly back, revealing her neck to his hungry eyes. His pants tightened when the glass came back, and her lips remained wetted by the crimson liquid. Tonight had to be the night.

He wanted to just peel her clothes off and throw them away. He wanted to look at her body without any hindrance whatsoever...completely sink into the promises of love. Because that’s what it was, after all, even though Brigida didn’t realize. Sure he was lustful, and so turned on that it felt painful...but he was also utterly in love with her. So much so that it was even more painful that the erection he was sporting between his legs.

His fingers ghosted over her knees and up her stockings. He ignored her when she threw him another irritated glare, and slide a sly hand beneath her blue dress. He wanted to peel those stockings off and feel her skin. Giving her a light, playful squeeze, Antonio grinned and picked up his fork. To everyone else around the table, he looked completely innocent. (Save, of course, for his two closest friends as they sent smirks his way. They had to admit that he was skilled.)

Brigida didn’t know what she should do. She didn’t want to draw unwanted attention to herself, but she also didn’t want Spain taking advantage of her hesitation...which she knew he would do given the chance. Gritting her teeth, she allowed his fingers to pry beneath her dress, trying vainly to decide on a course of action. She didn’t want to admit it, but with his fingers to close to her core, it was rather difficult to concentrate.

She didn’t think he’d actually do it...not right here, anyway, when everyone was around them. But when he reached her panties, Antonio didn’t hesitate before he dipped his fingers against her heat. A small gasp left her lips at the feel. Her mind was buzzing, and though she felt betrayed by her own passion, she yearned for him to continue. It was like a forbidden art that every Spaniard seemed to know: the unknowing seduction, complete and utter compliance. Brigida silently cursed it.

Spain was a bit surprised at said compliance, but he certainly didn’t complain. Smirking vividly over his food, he rubbed her harder, feeling wetness pool excitedly at her opening. He swallowed thickly and dearly wanted to take this elsewhere. His pants were getting unbearably tight, and he didn’t know how long his concentration would allow him. (He felt like jumping her bones right then and there, regardless of who was watching.)

His finger dipped into the fabric, pushing it into her with a little thrust. He felt himself get harder at the breathy little gasp that left her lips. Oh, how he wanted to kiss that mouth! He wanted to do so much more than what he was doing right now, actually. His mind began calculating the nearest room with a lock, and how long it would take them to get there...and how they would escape the company of the other countries.

For Brigida, that magical little fingers was quickly drawing her nearer and nearer to release. She’d never been this turned on before, but she had a feeling it was due to the current situation. Everyone around them, not realizing what was going on just beneath the table...it was all so dangerous. Brigida couldn’t seem to get enough of it.

Spain knew Brigida was nearing her end, and he wanted to watch her as she came. His gaze was transfixed to her face, studying the dilated way her eyes roved the room, and her sweaty brow. It was a beautiful sight, but he wanted to see her entire body when she came, not just a fraction of it. Forcing himself, he abruptly pulled his fingers from her crotch. He sent her a dizzying smirk when she turned questionably to him.

It seemed like ages before the dinner was finally over, and Brigida was desperately in need of a release. Her insides were still pounding with the tantalizing memory of his finger, and it was taking all her self control not to grab him and force him to comply to her wishes. (She didn’t think it would be that hard, considering the obvious erection he was sporting.)

The two lingered at the table while everyone else piled out into the sitting room for after dinner tea and conversation. Just as soon as the last person was gone, Antonio turned to Brigida, expecting a slap. But all he got was a firm grab to his collar and a pair of lips pressing hard against his. He grunted in surprise, but was quick to respond.

“Ahhh...Mi Tomate as finally given in – “ she deepened the kiss to shut him up, and then glared at him.

“You got me into this mess, now get me out of it!”

Spain nearly shivered at the lust coating her voice. He hummed and wrapped his arms snugly around her waist, kissing up her jaw and pecking her lips, “If you insist, Mi Tomate~” And then, he dragged her off to the nearest room with the lock. He was lucky that the other countries were already gone.

Extended Ending

Tea and conversation was a boring affair at best. America sighed and pushed his teacup farther away from him, ignoring the glower that England sent him.

The loud groans and pounds coming from two rooms over echoed through the silent sitting room.

“I wish I was having as much fun as Spain and Sicily~” America pouted.

...England glowered harder. The next moment, America was sporting a large bump on his head.


Monday, July 11, 2011

A Kyoya Ootori Lemon -- Stream of Consciousness

Character: Kyoya Ootori

Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club

OC: Kairu Sho, Age 17, wants to be on the New York’s Best Seller list for her writing.

Inspiration: Rascal Flatts songs~

The scratching of Kairu’s pen overshadowed any conversation that might have been made. Indeed, she wasn’t very concerned with offending anyone – especially the boy sitting across from her on the red velvet couch. He certainly didn’t look offended, but then again, Kyoya Ootori was pretty good at hiding any inconvenience he might be feeling. He merely sat there smartly and watched the strange meanderings of the girl he had come to know quite well.

Whether or not she knew he was staring could not be discerned, for Kairu didn’t look up or take any sort of break. She merely kept at it, writing down every tiny thought that entered her head in a manner that both parties were quite used to.

Kyoya didn’t interrupt her. He knew that when she was finished, she was finished, and never before. He had tried to interrupt her before, once or twice, during the first few weeks of their settlement. But he was shot down each and every time by a subtle wave of her writing hand before it went back to doing just that: writing. He had to admit that the actions aggravated him in a way that demeaned his sense of timing and poshness, and so he stopped trying to interrupt her and just settled to finish his tea before she was done. (It would have gotten cold, anyway, you see, for she usually took a good amount of time.)

When Kairu was finally done, she’d put away her notepad and click her pen, and push them gently into her school bag before turning to Kyoya and extending her hand. Kyoya would always reach forward and take it, twisting it around with a desire to brush his lips over her knuckles. But the hand would always be withdrawn quick as lightening before he’d be able to, and that was that. Just like it happened, now, he supposed as he watched Kairu tuck her hand back into the safe folds of her yellow dress. She sent him a pointed look, to which he returned with an amused smile.

“I don’t suppose anything new has come about?” she wondered, tearing her eyes from his accented features to rove the room. She studied the figures of her friend Haruhi – who was, strangely enough, being hounded by the blonde Prince that seemed to follow her around everywhere, and was always the subject of Kyoya and her conversation. She snapped her gaze back to the dark haired man when he began to respond, “Nothing new, no. You know, Miss Sho, I believe you should have an extra session with Tamaki if you wish to know more about his and Haruhi’s relationship. It would help – “

This was a fairly normal happening. Kyoya would always find some reason for Kairu to spend more money. She raised a brow at him and shook her head, “Thanks, Kyoya, but I think you’d tell me more honestly.”

He stopped talking to look at her, and then sighed, pushing up his glasses with a single, educated finger. With a brush of his hair, he responded, “Perhaps I should be less honest with you, then.”

Kairu very nearly let out a small laugh at that. She smiled and shrugged, “You couldn’t. Surprisingly, you’re not very good at lying.” She knew, because she had caught him various times in the past. Originally, Kairu would have thought that Kyoya would be the master at lying, but somehow she was able to see whether he truly was telling the truth or not. She supposed it was because of all the time she had spent in his presence.

“So nothing new at all?” Kairu mused, not really asking a question as much as going over it in her mind. “I guess I’m not surprised. Tamaki probably doesn’t even know he’s in love with her.” She had half a mind to say the same about Haruhi.

Kyoya reached forward at that moment to pour himself another cup of tea. He turned his gaze to Kairu a moment later in silent questioning, but Kairu shook her head. Kyoya lifted up his teacup and took a small sip. All the while he drank in her figure as well as the tea.

The reason that Kairu insisted upon having him as her Host was simply to get information on Tamaki and Haruhi’s budding relationship. After all, Haruhi and Kairu were very good friends – neighbors, in fact – and it was only natural for Kairu to want the best for her. Kyoya only wished that he didn’t feel so used every time they had a meeting. (Ironic, he knew, because the life of a Host was exactly that. Being used was part of the rules.)

It was a matter of dignity and perhaps even something greater that kept Kyoya sitting with Kairu so selflessly. He was getting paid to be with her, and it wasn’t so bad to spend time with her anyway. He could think of some girls that he hated to spend time with. (Though the list was on a need-to-know basis, naturally. If anyone found out, he’d surely loose money.) Sometimes, Kyoya just wished Kairu didn’t want to know about Tamaki or Haruhi. Sometimes, he wanted her to ask him about other things, like how his day was, or whether or not he was getting good sales. Any other girl would ask him that, after all. But then he supposed that Kairu wasn’t like any other girl, and that was why she was so special. (This information was also on a need-to-know basis.)

“How are you getting along with everyone?” Kyoya wondered, always keeping his gaze latched upon her face. By ‘everyone’ he meant the other Hosts, who had become good friends with Kairu in the past few weeks. Once they found out that Kairu and Haruhi were neighbors and friends, they had opened their arms out to her. Which was rather strange, considering that the Hosts were all fairly secluded within their own little group.

Kairu shrugged, and her lips tilted upward into a tiny little smile. Kyoya loved it when she smiled like that, for it held just a little bit of mischief that made her, well, her. “Very well,” she responded, and their eyes met for a short second before she turned her gaze elsewhere, “They are all quite accommodating.”

‘Accommodating’ wasn’t the word that Kyoya would have picked. He would’ve used ‘frustrating’, or ‘sometimes likeable’. But then he decided that this was another reason he liked Kairu; she saw people for what they were, and then some. Silently, he wondered what she saw in him if not a source of information.

“How’s your book coming along?” he asked, glancing at her book bag, which was now resting against her leg as they talked. He turned his gaze back to hers just in time to see her brilliant eyes shift to him. Again, they stayed connected for a mere moment before she tore her gaze away.

“Just fine. It’ll take me a while yet, but I’m confident that I’m putting the needed time into it,” she finished, and her lips took to that tiny little smile that seemed to express so much about her.

Kyoya stared at her lips – and the smile – until it had finally disappeared. When it did disappear, he responded, “You do spend quite a lot of time on it.” He immediately thought back to the beginnings of every session, where she’d just spend time writing.

Kairu hummed. She didn’t tell Kyoya what, exactly, she had been writing during those beginnings. Whenever she was around him, words and thoughts would just pop up in her head, and she knew she had to write them down, for they were so inspirational and wonderful that it would be a sin not to. She wondered how he had become such a meaningful person to her.

“Are you sure,” Kairu asked, as though suspicious of Kyoya’s knowledge, “that you haven’t seen anything between them? That was, after all, the reason that they were meeting right now. (She didn’t want to admit that she quite liked his company anyway, you see.) She watched as Kyoya smirked and readjusted his glasses.

“If you want to talk about it alone, feel free to meet me after all the other Hosts and Customers have gone,” he relayed, trying not to think about meeting with her with no distractions. She didn’t look annoyed or disgusted at the invitation, so Kyoya took that as a good sign. Kairu humphed and nodded, agreeing not because she wanted to know about her friend, but rather because the idea of being alone with Kyoya Ootori was an enticing thought. They both got up simultaneously, thoughts reeling as one.

“See you then,” Kairu murmured, glancing at Kyoya before pulling her bag up and swinging it across her shoulder. He could only nod as he watched her go.

// Time Skip: Two Hours Later //

The Music Room was stark and empty. Dipping her head through the door, Kairu glanced around. It was strange seeing everything so silent. Usually, the Hosts were here making noise and disruptions. Needless to say, it made Kairu a little jumpy.

“I see you’ve made it,” a voice suddenly said, and Kairu had to throw a hand over her heart to quell the fast pace of it.

She let out a slow breath and turned to look toward the voice. Kyoya was sitting in their usual place, legs crossed and arms thrown haphazardly over the edges of the cushions. She didn’t want to admit it, but Kairu thought he looked downright sexy in that position. She swallowed a lump in her throat and came closer, shutting the door behind her.

“It’s strange not seeing everyone else here,” Kairu said aloud, and then silently thought how nice it was, being alone with him. There were no other girls to complain about their elongated sessions; no Host to barge into their conversation; there was nothing but silence. Complete, unequivocal silence. From across the couch, Kyoya smiled.

“Sit down and we’ll talk,” he said, but Kairu didn’t really want to talk. Chances like these didn’t come very often, especially with such a man as him. They were alone, and he was looking so sexy and desirous and exactly what she needed. Trying vainly to push such thoughts away, Kairu took a shaky seat and an even shakier breath.

He tilted his head, “Are you alright, Kairu?”

There was a strange sort of glint in his eye - a predatory, hungry look – that made Kairu wonder if he knew what he was doing to her. Her name sounded so good on his tongue. She wanted him to say it again and again. Kairu smiled unsurely and breathed, “Yeah.” Clearing her throat, she repeated the word with a little more strength, as though embarrassed that he had such an effect over her voice.

Kyoya knew quite well what was happening to her, and though it surprised him a little, it pleased him more. He leaned back and drank the sight of her figure. His mind reeled with images of what he wanted to do with her, and he had to will himself not to get carried away. The fabric of his pants wasn’t all that suitable for hiding anything, and he didn’t want to scare her off...though by the looks of it, he doubted it would anyway.

She was staring at him in an almost lustful fashion, but she didn’t seem to realize that she was doing it. Her teal eyes were shaded in the dim light of the room, and clouded with an emotion that had Kyoya’s heart pumping ever faster. Voice thick with want, Kyoya muttered, “I think you’d be more comfortable over here...next to me.”

Shit. Kairu glanced at the spot beside him and gulped. She didn’t argue – couldn’t argue – as she stood and stepped lithely to her new seat. Her willpower was dust on the floor; she would allow him to do anything and wouldn’t complain. Kyoya seemed to have realized this as well, and was not below using it to his advantage.

The proximity of their bodies was small. Mere inches separated the two, but still they held back as though they were afraid of closing such an intimate space. Their eyes never left each other. And then... “Kairu?”

She jerked her head up and felt a light blush adorn her cheeks. Kyoya smiled a tiny smile and tilted his head, resting the temples of his forehead against his slender fingers, “May I kiss you?”

He certainly didn’t seem all that embarrassed in his asking, but Kairu was almost positive that she detected the smallest of blushes overpower his pale skin. She blushed as well and nodded, closing her eyes in her anticipation.

Said anticipation was quelled not a moment later as Kyoya’s lips descended upon her own. Kairu was immediately encased in the most fleeting sense of utmost security that she’d ever encountered, before it was pushed away when Kairu deepened the kiss. She was blind with want, and though the sweet kiss felt amazing, something more was needed. Kyoya certainly didn’t seem to mind.

Their lips worked in a crazed fashion, like they had only just found each other after months of being apart. Melodramatically sane, Kairu clung to his school jacket and drew him closer. They reveled in the feeling of their bodies pressed together.

Kairu hadn’t realized that she was being dipped back until her shoulders were already touching the cushions adorning the red velvet couch. Kyoya’s weight on her felt heavenly; she was quick to wrap her arms around his neck and waist and pull him down farther. He grunted in appreciation as her tongue racked his bottom lip.

Kairu needed to be satiated. Her desire was only increasing by the minute, and the lust welling up inside of her was all Kyoya’s doing. He was to blame, and therefore he had to take responsibility for his actions. Feeling bold, Kairu grabbed his belt and dragged his hips down to grind against hers. Both of their inhalations was proof of arousal.

“Kairu...are you su-?” the question died on Kyoya’s tongue as Kairu pulled their hips together once more. Sliding her fingers into his belt buckle, she was quick to undo it and pull it away. As if that wasn’t enough of an answer, Kairu then proceeded to unbutton the top of his pants.

Kyoya wanted to smirk, but all expression seemed to be evading him. Gasping at her show of braveness, Kyoya allowed her to finish the job and pull the waistline of his trousers down. Before she could grasp onto his boxers, however, he raised a brow and caught her wrists. A moment later, they were pinned above her head.

His tongue made a job of tracing over her neck. Dipping up her jaw line, he felt Kairu quiver in anticipation. He smirked and slowly covered her lips with his own, working them passionately as his fingers started undoing her dress.

She helped him as he tugged it down, freeing her breasts as they went. When she was completely bare, the clothes were thrown carelessly off the side of the couch. Kyoya gazed down at her body, shivering at the genuine beauty of her curves. His hand traced her sides, molding to the contours of her hips before trailing down her leg. The attention was immediate and craved, and Kairu wanted more. She arched her back and pushed her breasts against his chest, turning said attention there.

Kyoya was quick to capture one full breast with his mouth. Kairu groaned heatedly as his tongue swished around her nipple. His teeth nibbled at her, biting and sucking in a painful and yet completely pleasurable fashion. By the time he was done, Kairu was so turned on that her panties were soaked and ruined.

Kyoya buried his face in her neck, licking here and there as he hands removed the last of their clothing.

“No more...” he heard Kairu whisper, “I want you now...” And he was only too happy to oblige. Lifting one leg over his shoulder, Kyoya positioned himself at her entrance. Kairu was quick to find something to hold onto: the velvet cushion beneath her head. When he deemed her ready, he slid in.

The reaction was immediate. Arching her back, Kairu’s eyes drifted shut. A moan bubbled up her throat, and it was so exotic that Kyoya couldn’t help but move faster. In hardly a few seconds, their hips were moving together in a rapid pace that could not be matched.

It felt so good! Kairu hadn’t been with a guy in a long time, and Kyoya was certainly very skilled. Grinding his hips into hers with a power that left her short of breath, Kyoya groaned his appreciation. His hand moved to grasp her hips, and the other stayed latched to her risen thigh. Moans and grunts were all that could be heard.

Kairu was quickly being overcome by bliss. Her eyes drifted to a close as she neared the edge. It wouldn’t be long now...just a few more thrusts...her moans increased as her orgasm began.

Kyoya rushed to catch up with her. He were near the end, too, and was just waiting for her to go before following. Pounding into her faster, Kyoya leaned down and rolled her nipple roughly in his mouth.

The action had Kairu moaning ever louder as she rose, lifting up into the plains of ecstasy and bringing Kyoya with her. Together, they let themselves go, fluids intermingling in a shrouded dance. Their hips rolled as they rushed to catch themselves, breath shortened and bodies sweaty. The scent of their lovemaking hung delicately in the air.

Kyoya moved his hips a few more times, before pulling is manhood out and slowly lowering his gasping body to lay beside hers. There wasn’t much room on the velvet couch, so Kyoya had to maneuver his head onto the cushion. The rest of his body found solace atop her legs.

Kairu ran shaky fingers through his hair. Her chest was heaving, breasts quivering against Kyoya’s arms. He pressed his lips to the side of her neck and his eyes slipped closed. Utter peace was etched into both their features.

“You don’t know...how long...I wanted to do that...” he muttered, skillfully trailing his fingers down her neck and collar. He kissed her shoulder this time.

Kairu’s lips turned upward into a small smile. She turned to him, taking in the sight of his nude body pressed against hers, and murmured, “I think I do.”

They shared a tiny smile before both pairs of eyes drifted to a close. Arms tightened, breaths calmed, and sleep was tangible in the air.

Extended Ending

The Host Club was, once again, bustling with activity as Customers giggled and disruptions occurred. To Kairu, it was once again normal and lively, but she couldn’t help but miss the sexy silence that accompanied the quieter hours of the day. Her mind drifted back to settle on such thoughts, and a small blush littered her cheeks. Across from her, Kyoya smirked, as though he knew full well where her mind was.

“Kyoya...?” Kairu leaned back, gazing at him from beneath a thick fringe of lashes. She watched as his throat constricted. Smiling innocently, she wondered, “Have you heard anything from Tamaki and Haruhi?”

She didn’t really care about their relationship as much as she let on. Kyoya hummed. “Why don’t we discuss it later today after everyone leaves?”

Kairu blushed a bit more, but refused to let her coy smile slip.


Saturday, July 9, 2011

A Shikamaru Nara Baby Daddy -- Capitol T

Character: Shikamaru Nara

Fandom: Naruto

OC: Hanako Nakawagua, Loud and brash, Dislikes: Thunder

Inspiration: Shikamaru’s laziness~

// Prologue //

The classroom was terribly boring. Hanako couldn’t remember a time when she was so languid...and what made things worse was the equally, if not more, languid boy sitting beside her. She frowned at the thought.

Shikamaru Nara was a lazy boy. His favorite hobbies were eating, sleeping, and watching the sky. He also hated Hanako Nakawagua with a burning passion that was requited on much the same level for her. It was a well known fact that the two were bitter rivals.

“Hey, Hanako,” came the voice of a girl whom Hanako was particularly familiar with, “Stop looking so down and come play with us. We have a fifteen minute break before class starts again!”

Indeed, they did, and Hanako was only too happy to vacate the seat next to her burning enemy. With a happy grin, the eight year old bounced up and went to run after the group playing ‘ninja’. Shikamaru just shook his head with a roll of his eyes.

// How It Happened //

The Leaf Village was as hot as ever under the burning summer sun. Tugging at her shirt, a female kunzite trampled lazily down the street, watching various passerby as they went about their daily routines. There weren’t many people out, probably due to the intense heat, but the few that were tried to appear happy. The laughter of the citizens of Konoha was not new to the girl, but after such a long mission, it felt like a chorus of angels.

Hanako was very sure that there was one other person outside, as well, though she knew he wouldn’t be found in the streets. The sky was absolutely beautiful today, which left Hanako with only one realization: Shikamaru was watching the clouds.

The only question now was where, exactly, he was doing it. He had a few different spots, you see, all around Konoha. The best place, he claimed, was the grassy field in Training Ground 8. The rooftop of the veterinary building was a close second.

Hanako pushed out her bottom lip, thinking. She had to go report her mission to the Hokage before she could look for Shikamaru. She was also in dire need of some of the normalcy of life, like a hot shower and a big bowl of Ramen. Finding entirely too much on her list of things to do, Hanako grumbled and decided to go to the Hokage Tower first. After all, she’d spent three whole weeks on a very tiresome B-Ranked mission, and managed to get out with little to no scratches. That deserved a nice chat with the Hokage.

Unfortunately, the Hokage wasn’t in today. Lady Tsunade must have decided that it was too hot a day to waste it in her office, for Shizune was the only one present at the desk. She looked to be very uncomfortable indeed, and was towering over a small stack of unreported missions with a tired expression on her face. When Hanako entered the room, Shizune sighed in relief, “Thank Kami you’re back, Nakawagua-san. The missions have been building up so much lately. I’m afraid Tsunade-sama isn’t in today...but I’ll pass your report on to her when she is.”

Hanako nodded with a soft smile and turned her gaze to Shizune, who was picking up a scroll and pencil to write everything down in the report. Clearing her throat, Hanako claimed, “Mission was successful. It took three days to get there and I was able to blend right in. The first week was spent gathering information about the spies, and the second was spent eliminating them. Two day return journey.”

Shizune’s pencil hurried to scratch everything down, not pausing for even a second as she did. Finally, she nodded and caught Hanako’s eye, “Good job, Nakawagua-san. I’m giving you a two-day reprieve before your next mission.”

Hanako nodded, maintaining her cool expression. But inside, she was pouting at the short vacation. She turned on her heel to leave, but then suddenly stopped, as though remembering something. Gazing back, Hanako wondered, “Shizune-san? Do you know if Shikamaru Nara is out on a mission?”

Her question was met with a smile and a shake of the head, “No, Nakawagua-san. Shikamaru returned early yesterday morning and will be spending one more day until his next mission.”

Hanako pouted openly now, but didn’t say anything except a small ‘thank you’ before leaving. Only one day left! She suddenly knew that her hot shower and bowl of Ramen would have to wait.

Hanako’s final verdict on her lover’s whereabouts was mainly based on a whim. After glancing at the clear blue sky, she decided that she’d check the vet rooftop first. If he wasn’t there, she would have gained a nice walk anyway.

Whistling while she went along on her journey, Hanako wondered where her next mission would take her. She sighed a bit and pouted. A two day reprieve was far too short, but she didn’t blame Lady Tsunade all that much. As of late, there had been some hassle about the Akatsuki organization, and most of the elite ninja were here defending the village.

With a glance around, Hanako found the stairway up to the rooftop and began her ascent. It was a fairly high building, so it took her a few minutes to reach the top. When she finally did, she was met with the sound of soft snoring, and a giggle left her lips. Her verdict was right after all.

Shikamaru was fast asleep on the bench some ways away. His head was propped up with his arms and he lay on his back. His mouth was open a bit, and Hanako thought he looked adorable. Smiling at the endearing sight, she stepped forward and took a seat beside him.

After sitting in silence for a moment, boredom grew heavily on Hanako’s mind. She pouted at her sleeping boyfriend and sighed. She had hoped to find him awake, and maybe drag him down to dinner with her. She wanted to spend as much time with him as possible before their separate missions got in the way. Hanako was just starting to loose hope on him when a sudden and rather naughty thought invaded her mind.

“Hmm.” She grinned. Drifting a slender finger over his cheekbone, Hanako leaned over him. Intimate moment with Shikamaru were far between and often started by her. There was no one else on the rooftop...so why not? She smirked and dragged her finger from his face, past his Chunin vest, and at the zipper of his pants. It was pulled down without a moments hesitation.

Her clever fingers found a way through his boxers quickly and surely, and pulled out the sought treasure with just as much boldness. It felt lax in her hand, which meant only one thing: she had some work to do. With a devious little giggle, Hanako swung her leg over his waist and began gracing her fingers over his manhood.

He was still very much asleep, but it wasn’t difficult to tell that Shikamaru was feeling her touch. His face shifted expressions, from peaceful to confused to pleased. A coy smirk lit up her face at the sight. Hanako sent her other hand to undo the restraints of his Chunin jacket, popping the slits that held it together. As always, the clothing he had on beneath it was minimal, and hugged his toned body well. She slipped her fingers over his taut muscles and made a pleased noise. A sight for sore eyes, truly.

Her hand below was quickly getting tired of its teasing touches. Wrapping it more firmly around his awakening length, Hanako pumped him through her fingers with a force to be reckoned with, eyes watching his face with a calculating glint. She had a feeling he was awake now – he was a light sleeper anyway, and this, certainly, would have brought him from his stupor. He was just trying not to let her know...perhaps because he didn’t want to go through the trouble? Whatever the case, Hanako was onto him. Her gaze narrowed.

Still pumping his dick, Hanako leaned forward to press her lips against Shikamaru’s neck. Her tongue darted over his flesh, sucking and nibbling on his skin. Her attempts at making him respond weren’t working, though, and she pulled back to kiss him more solidly on the mouth.

He was sporting quite the erection now. It would be impossible for a man to still be asleep after this! Hanako grunted against his lips – a sound Shikamaru surely should have smirked at! – and pulled away. She slid back down his body and gave his cock one last pump before dragging her hand away from it. Well, two could play at this game. With a sly smile, Hanako called, “Shika-kun~ You’re gonna have to wake up if you want me to help you take care of that problem of yours.” With a chortling laugh, she stepped away, ignoring the anguish of her own arousal as she did. She was almost to the stairs now, and would continue unless she did something. When he just laid there unmoving, Hanako shrugged. She took one last glance at his twitching manhood and turned on the spot.

She had been very serious at her move, and was getting ready to complete her journey to the stairs when Shikamaru groaned and opened his eyes. He sat up slowly, as though going through the utmost torture, and sent her a lazy, lustful glare, “Alright, alright, jeez. You’re so troublesome.”

Hanako merely grinned and bowed, “Why thank you.” Her tongue swirled over her lips, taking him in hungrily, “Now...I think it’d be in your best interest to get those damned clothes off.”

A grunt left his lips and he smirked. Tilting his head back in a stretch, Shikamaru seemed to be ignoring his problem altogether. He sighed, glanced down at his awakened manhood, and shrugged, “I think it’d be in my best interest for you to help me out already and forget about the clothes.”

She grumbled and stepped back up to him, kneeling before him, “You’re so lazy, Shika-kun! I swear, if your cock wasn’t this big I’d – “

She was cut off as Shikamaru rolled his eyes and pushed his head into his lap. It was her problem now, he decided, but silently thanked the Gods for giving her such a skilled little tongue.

// How You Told Him //

Flouncing from her apartment, Hanako glanced around. It was a damned shame that she had another mission, and so soon! It was just yesterday that she came back from her previous one, and she hardly felt rested at all. How Hanako managed to still keep that bounce in her step, she never knew. (But she were pretty sure her endurance was the reason Lady Tsunade kept dishing out new missions for her to partake in.)

The reprieves between missions were getting longer for everyone around her, but they seemed to be evading Hanako altogether. It was rather annoying, especially when all her friends were out having fun and she were stuck inside resting up. At least Shikamaru stayed inside with her, though he didn’t have to. The long reprieves weren’t evading him, that was for sure. He had another week before he had to go out on a new mission.

A grumbled sigh tore through her throat at the thought. What she would do to spend the entire day in bed...somehow, Hanako was sure that if she asked Shikamaru to stay with her, he’d have no problem with the idea. Her daydream only escalated as she made her way to the Hokage’s Tower. Tilting her head absentmindedly, Hanako opened the door and stepped into the room to be briefed on her mission.

She was barely present while Tsunade spoke. Her mind was drifting far into the clouds, making her daydream tangible on her tongue. She only caught the last sentence of Tsunade’s speech as she was whisked away from the sweet folds of dreamland.

“...Is that clear, Nakawagua-san?”

She jerked her head forward and smiled lazily, “Yep, completely clear, Hokage-sama! I understood every word of it! I’ll most definitely finish the mission to the best of my abilities!”

By the twitching of Tsunade’s eye, Hanako raised a brow. Had she said something wrong? Sure, she lied a little – the tiniest lie – but she was sure she sounded enthusiastic as always. Shizune hid a mirthful laugh behind her hand, trying – and failing – to disperse it when Tsunade sent her a particularly pointed glare.

“I don’t think you heard me, Hanako,” she leaned forward, randomly staring daggers toward Hanako’s stomach. The poor girl’s brows shot right into her hairline. She followed the trail of Tsunade’s burning gaze and patted her belly. Did Tsunade think she was getting fat or something?!

Shizune laughed a bit more and shook her head, “Hanako, how have you been feeling lately?” She began to list off a variety of ailments that Hanako was possibly experiencing. Headaches? Tender muscles? Cramps? Morning sickness? Hanako answered honestly: no, yes, – but that was because she was a ninja, duh! – always, sometimes.

Shizune made a noise, “Humph. Well, obviously we know what’s wrong with you. You’ll start developing the hormonal stuff in a few weeks, and everything else will probably intensify. That’s why you’re not allowed to go on missions until after the baby is born, is that clear Hanako?”

Hanako stared at her. Hmm...her head might have been in the clouds again, but did Shizune just say that she was with child? How laughable! This must have been some sort of sick joke they were pulling on her. A smirk lit her face, “That’s funny, Shizune-san. You don’t really expect me to believe that shit, do y-?”

“FOR GOD’S SAKE, HANAKO! YOU’RE F-ING PREGNANT! WE AREN’T JOKING AND I MEANT IT WHEN I SAID THAT YOU’RE NOT GOING ON YOUR DESIGNATED MISSION!” Tsunade fell back into her seat with a scowl and observed the wildly delirious girl before her. (Hanako was silently wondering if the entire village knew now, for Tsunade certainly yelled it loudly enough.)

“Oh,” she said, tilting her head as she finally grasped it, “Wait...how do you know I’m pregnant when I don’t even know I’m pregnant? And are you sure I’m pregnant? Because if you’re not sure but just almost sure, then – “

“Hanako,” Shizune cut in, glancing fearfully toward Tsunade’s irate face, “As we’re both highly trained medical ninja, your pregnancy is absolute.”

Another tilt of her head. “Oh, I see.” A sudden grin spread over her face. She chortled a bit and muttered, “I wonder what Shikamaru will say? Haha! Probably how tiresome it’ll be...” And then, promptly turning to the window and throwing it wide open, Hanako ducked her head outside and caught sight of what could only be her boyfriend as he walked down the street.

“HEY, SHIKA-KUN! GUESS WHAT?” She didn’t wait for him to guess, “I’M PREGNANT, YOU SON OF A BITCH!” ...and then proceeded to shuffle back indoors and ignore the shocked and slightly disturbed looks on Shizune and Tsunade’s faces.

// Epilogue //

A grumble fell past parted lips. A tongue dragged itself beneath her jaw, dipping into the contours of her neck before changing into small little nibbles and bites. Shuffling beneath the covers, Hanako grunted in annoyance and tried vainly to push her lover away. “Shika...I’m trying to sleep...”

An amused chuckle ghosted across her bare shoulder. Shikamaru pulled away slightly, but only to wrap his arms snugly around Hanako waist. His lips quickly got back to ravishing her neck soon after, much to Hanako’s chagrin. “I mean it, Shikamaru...”

Clearly he didn’t believe her, and obviously she wasn’t putting up much of a fight. It felt mind blowing when he woke her up like that, sensual and pleasurable. It took her mind far from the troubles that the day would soon bring.

His hand played with the smooth edges of her waist beneath the thin sheets. He Dipped down to tickle her naval before darting back up when Hanako half-heartedly slapped him on his shoulder. She rolled over during the same action, snuggling into his chest as though the slap hadn’t even taken place. Shikamaru chuckled again.

His fingers moved up to tangle themselves into her silky hair. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her forehead and sighed against her sweet skin. A sleepy, breathy mewl escaped Hanako’s mouth. She turned in his arms and kissed the center of his chest, not bothering to look up at him before shutting her eyes once more and trying to sink back into the solace of sleep.

“Natsu will probably be awake now,” she softly mumbled, not wanting to leave the comforts of her husband’s arms but knowing that she probably had to. As though reading her mind, Shikamaru’s grasp tightened around her and he growled lowly in disagree.

“Even if he is, I’m sure he can do without his mother for a while,” he muttered. A string of words followed, but Hanako was only able to pick up ‘troublesome’ before it disappeared into the air. His words were true enough, at least. Natsu, their only child, was a pretty docile kid. Hanako turned back to Shikamaru’s embrace, quieted for now.

“...I don’t ever want to leave you,” she whispered, not caring if Shikamaru had heard or not. It was a confession that she said often enough anyway. Her fingers spread out over the warm skin of his back.

Her words were met with silence, as usual. Another kiss to her forehead...the slight squeeze of his arms: Shikamaru had other ways of telling you that he felt the same. Hanako smiled and tilted her head, eyes observing her love with an admiration to behold.


A Mello Lemon -- It's Been A While

Character: Mello

Fandom: Death Note

OC: Allidia (Alice) Gerard, Age 18, Likes: Chocolate

Inspiration: Strangely enough, computer games. XD

The words ‘It had been a while’ could translate into many different meanings. For instance, it had been a while since Alice Gerard had seen her family; it had been a while since she had actually used money to buy ice cream; and it had been a while since she had seduced anyone. But in this case, the words meant something more sentimental, and held an inspiring touch that made her heart swell. It had been a while since she had written him a letter; it had been a while since she had listened to his voice; and it had been a while since she’d seen him. It had just...been a while.

Alice had no idea where the time went. It always seemed to just disappear whenever she wasn’t looking. All she knew was that it had to have been at least three months since she had seen Mello, and that was always bad news. (Bad, because usually he’d get into a good amount of trouble in a little amount of time, and Alice could only imagine what three months could have done to him. High security prison immediately came to mind.)

She knew that he was competent – one of the main things she liked about him – and that he could take care of himself. But she wasn’t so sure about her own self. Life these days was long and boring, and Alice was almost always tempted to do something even more foolhardy than ever. It was a bad sign when an ex-Mafia member couldn’t find the will to do what she loved. (Which was, of course, participating in rather evil activities that looked down upon any good-natured act.) Which was probably what had prompted her to get on her bike and get out of her apartment.

Riding a motorcycle gave one a certain sense of accomplishment and freedom, but riding it like Alice did forced other reactions to well up inside her – and everyone who had to jump out of her way as she came barreling down the sidewalk. The wind through her hair could be compared to nothing else; the firm grip of the handles and brakes gave her complete control. She could do anything she wanted...but there was only one thing that she could think would cure her of the redundancy that her life had become.

She had long since memorized the way to his living arrangements, as scruff and foreboding as they were. With the sharpness that came with her job, Alice jerked down a small side street, bike rumbling like thunder as she progressed.

It was shabby as hell here, but it was also rather comforting, because Alice knew who was behind the crappy brick walls and metal plated doors. She wondered what he was doing. Was he thinking about her? Was he scheming some big-shot heist? She had a feeling he was doing neither, but rather lazing around chewing one of his chocolate bars and scolding Matt to get off his gaming system.

It had been a while, she thought, since she had come to visit him. The reinforced door that led to the undercroft of the Mafia wouldn’t budge, but that didn’t bother Alice. The muscled men guarding said door – complete with machine guns and typical bad-guy attire – that was what bothered her.

She was sure they didn’t know who she was, but to her surprise, they didn’t stop her from entering. Was this respect she sensed? They must have heard of the legend she had built for herself, otherwise they wouldn’t just allow her entrance. She smirked to them and continued on her way.

It was cramped inside. There were rickety metal pillars holding up the ceiling, and they were coated with so much rust that they looked as unstable that the holey brick walls and the bullet-filled floors. Alice shook her head a bit, reminding herself that Mello never was one for interior design. She continued on her way until she got to a particularly familiar room.

This was the place where they’d hang out together. A tall TV set – the only thing abnormally new in the room – stood stark against the brick backdrop. There were DVDs and Video Games crowding the space around it, and controllers littering the coffee table. Two couches loomed up. One faced the TV straight on, while the other looked toward the other direction. Finally, two figures filled the room, making it seem much more livable.

A brown haired boy wearing a stripped shirt was bent over one Video Game controller. His eyes were so focused on the TV screen that he didn’t seem aware of anything going on around him. The other boy – a blonde haired, leather-wearing man – was strewn haphazardly on the couch. There was an opened chocolate bar in his hand, half-eaten, and it dangled lightly from slender fingers. He was watching the screen as well, albeit uncaringly, and seemed to be thinking of something else.

A scoff fell from Alice’s lips, and she was immediately regarded. Two pairs of eyes swiveled around to face her, brows furrowed. The confusion cleared up a moment later, and both men turned back to what they were doing. A roll of her eyes, Alice plopped herself onto the couch beside Mello and turned her head to gaze at him. He ignored her.

She didn’t much care if he acknowledged her presence or not, just as long as she was in his presence and not somewhere else. It had been a while, she thought, since she had made him angry. Smirking at the thought, she decided that it was high time to change that.

He wouldn’t ignore her for long. Leaning forward, she rested her head on his shoulder, grinning when he tried to shrug it off. The chocolate bar was hovering in front of her face, and even though Alice didn’t much care for that kind of chocolate – she preferred it in ice cream form, you see – she decided to go for it, just this once. She quickly leaned forward and bit into the bar before pulling back a few feet away from the man. He stared at her, eye twitching in annoyance, and watched as she slowly licked her lips. It did taste good on her tongue, she thought, and smirked at Mello. He let out a feral growl and threw the bar onto the coffee table before turning to her. Oops. Alice had forgotten about this little side of Mello. (You know, the vengeful one.) She was flat on her back not a moment later, and his face was not two inches from hers.

“Give that back,” he ordered darkly, narrowed eyes sliding from her own orbs to her plush lips as they chewed the delicious sweet. She shook her head, smirking in a challenge.

Well, Mello was never one to give in to any challenge. His lips were upon hers not a moment later, tongue battling to get into her mouth. She tried her best refusing him – she really did! – but when he suddenly bit down on her bottom lip, she couldn’t help but gasp. His tongue darted into her mouth and fished around for the melted chocolate.

Her eyes closed in bliss as he continued ravishing her mouth. It had been a while since he’d really kissed her. But to her dismay, he didn’t linger long before pulling back. He soon got back into his lazy position, chocolate bar back in hand and staring blandly at the screen. Alice pouted at him for again ignoring her. Not that his taste was in her mouth, she desperately wanted more from him. She slowly sat up, not taking her eyes from him, and leaned forward. The chocolate bar was pulled away from her and switched to the other hand suspiciously.

But that wasn’t what she was going for this time. Her mouth was craving something a bit more substantial...something that could quench the thirst that was now instilled within her. In a sudden movement, she tackled Mello to the couch and straddled him, glaring playfully down at his surprised honey orbs.

“Hey, Matt...?” she asked, leaning down to press her lips against Mello’s neck. The gamer grunted to show he was listening, and Alice continued, “...You may want to leave the room.” Then her lips were attacking his fervently, and her body was pulled flush against his as his arms latched themselves around her waist.

Matt merely rolled his eyes and muttered, “I was afraid you’d say that...” before leaving the room to go find another TV. He left not a moment too soon; a second after the door swung closed, Mello rolled over and began attacking her lips with his.

It had been a while since she’d experienced such poignant relief. Caged beneath him, Alice wrapped her arms about his neck and arched her back, pushing her breasts into his chest in a silent plea. He certainly didn’t ignore it. A moment later, his hands began groping every available bit of her body as he could.

A growl tore through Mello’s throat as he leaned over her. He nipped at her earlobe, muttering vaguely, “Why’d you come back?”

But Alice didn’t answer him. Besides the distraction of Mello’s movements, Alice had no clue as to why she was even gone for so long. Various responses flew into her mind, but vacated her senses before she could grasp onto them. Quickly giving up as Mello’s hands worked their way up her shirt, Alice groaned and closed her eyes. To say that she didn’t enjoy being in this situation was an understatement.

A leering grin found itself on Mello’s lips when he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. With a deep, guttural chuckle that sent shivers of lust racing down Alice’s spine, he breathed, “Why, you naughty, naughty girl. What else aren’t you wearing?” She didn’t miss the look he flashed toward her pants. A sly smirk mirrored his own.

She was about to answer him, no doubt with something as coy as his own words, but was quickly put to rest as his fingers began fondling her nipples. Tugging almost painfully, Alice mewled and arched her back once more. The man above her grinned in satisfaction.

Unfortunately for him, a delicious plan was brewing inside Alice’s mind. She wasn’t the one to be taken lightly in any situation, and this was no different. Ethereal touches were trailed down his spine, hardly existent as she dipped lower and lower towards his waistline. He reacted with much the same gentility, for once allowing her to have her way rather than forcing the odds in his favor. Alice rather liked this dignified side of him.

She leaned up slowly, hardly touching his as she pushed his back with a single finger. It was hard to believe that such a small movement could restrain him, but he must have known that his silence would reap the rewards eventually. He smirked a rather characteristic smirk and allowed her to push his back into the upright cushions. Alice crawled into his lap a moment later and hummed.

“I wonder,” she nipped at his neck, “If anyone might interrupt us?” Not that she really cared. She was far from being prudish, after all. A simply grin annunciated her inquiry.

Mello growled, as though he was quickly losing patience with her light teases, “Does it matter?” He leaned forward and devoured her lips.

Alice sunk into the kiss quickly, clutching at the leather fabric of his shirt as she hoisted herself farther onto him. Her movement forced a snarl to rip through his throat, and before she could teasingly ask what was the matter – as if she didn’t already know – Mello grabbed her hips and jostled them against his. His growing erection was restrained by the leather of his pants, but it was still discernable against her bum. Alice chortled a bit in a mocking manner, and the man before her scowled. He proceeded to rip her shirt away from her body, letting loose her breasts and simultaneously halting her laughter. (But no matter the circumstance, that aggravating smirk could not be removed from her plush lips.)

Mello ground his teeth together. He knew that in a few moments, he’d have her all to himself, but before that he had one little predicament to handle. He so dearly wanted to wipe that grin off your face. As if reading his thoughts, Alice disentangled herself from his grip and stood, looking lustfully at him through a thick fringe of lashes. The phrase ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em’ raced through her head. (Though she was certain that if she really wanted to, she could beat him awfully bad.) Her fingers found her belt buckle a moment later.

Mello sat back and raised a brow, looking as sexy as ever as he observed her hands. Her tight blue jeans were slowly disposed and thrown a few feet away beside her shirt. A lustful shiver tingled through his body as he caught sight of the area that should have been covered.

A wild smirk, and then, “Tsk, tsk. No wonder you’re so frisky. Such naughtiness ought to be punished.”

Alice hummed and did a small twist, not at all embarrassed at the intensity of his gaze. She noticed how taut he looked as he sat there. His legs were spread in his normal position, but this time, the heady bulge beneath the leather beckoned to her. His fingers seemed cramped as they tore through the delicate skin of his palms. With calculating eyes, his hand caught her wrist as she made to turn around once more, and all but dragged her back onto his lap. The drawstrings of his pants were loosened a moment later, and were shimmed from his slender hips faster than Alice could blink.

It all happened so fast that she hardly had any time to glance down and observe his twitching shaft before it was pushed inside of her, and she was crushed tightly to his leather-bound chest.

Alice immediately keened and spread her legs farther around him, pushing her knees into the fabric of the couch and leaned forward. His fingernails found something else to sink into as they grasped her hips, leading her around his stiff cock as he grunted and cursed and snarled in pleasure.

Alice was quickly being overcome by the hazy scent of sex. The heat was rising rapidly, jolting through her body with every pound of their hips. She threw her head back and moaned loudly as she felt Mello’s mouth fasten itself upon her bosom.

His teeth were not gentle as they bit down onto her nipple, and she didn’t want them to be. The roughness that was purely his had her on edge, sinking fitfully into what could only be described as raw passion. His tongue lapped over her other nipple, switching places with his free hand as he worked the pink skin into hard nubs.

After a moment, he pulled back and gazed at her fiercely before jerking his hips into hers in a deadly barrage that nearly sent her off the edge. With a harsh twist of her tender breasts, Alice let out a strained mewl, breathy and coated in lust and need. She worked her hips into small, tiny circles and almost came once more as he followed suit.

The power of his thrusts were quickly creating a dazed dream world around her. Alice could only grip onto his shoulders and tear her lips against his neck in an animalistic growl as he continued his fast pace. Neither wanted to wait; neither wanted the draw out whatever desire had built up. Heat coiled through Alice’s stomach, rearing and biting and pounding, and she couldn’t hold in her basking moan as she fell into an orgasm that shook her very soul.

Her spasms were bold and endearing, and Mello found it quite easy to follow her as he rammed her hips into his and milked himself clean. His throat convulsed in a deep, appreciative grunt as he finished, and his hands, gentler this time, slowly continued pumping their hips together as he released a satisfied sigh. His head fell back to rest upon the cushions of the couch, and a moment later, every movement stopped.

Alice was delirious with relief. It surely had been a while since she’d felt that degree of pleasure. She sunk into his sweaty chest and sighed in contentment, pressing her cheek just over his heart and listening to it’s fast beats. She felt his arm wind around her and rest at her waist.

“Why’d you come back...?” he murmured, breathy and barely coherent as he kissed her hair.

She glanced up at him, and their eyes locked in a soft stare that had Alice’s heart reacting even more wildly than it had before. A twitch of a smile reared at her lips, “...It’s been a while...and I missed you.” She wasn’t sure where that had come from, but as she spoke the words she knew they were true. She wasn’t complete unless she was here, by Mello’s side. She wasn’t happy unless she could come home to his arms. She wasn’t satiated unless he was the one to please her.

Mello hummed lightly, sanguinely, as though he was more at peace now than he ever was, and nodded slowly. It surely had been a while, and he had missed her, too. The sentiment lingered silently in the air.

Extended Ending

Eyes locked fitfully to the TV screen, Matt sighed.

“Freaking sex-depraved friends...” a string of soft curses followed.


A Takashi Morinozuka Lemon -- Strawberry Pie

Character: Takashi Morinozuka

Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club

OC: Sora Shizuya, Age 17, Bakes for the Host Club

Inspiration: Some old recipes I use…~

The morning was crisp and natural. Everything seemed to be in order for Sora Shizuya, which was exactly how she liked it. The kettle was being heated on the stove top, the oven was warming up beside her, and she wasn’t feeling the least bit tired as she stirred a heavy bowl of what looked like cookie dough.

it was her usual morning routine, and it was rather incessant, but Sora didn’t mind. She loved being in the kitchen and creating things that other people could love. She was glad that she had the opportunity to do such a thing. (Kyoya wouldn’t let her say no, even though she hadn’t planned to in the first place.)

Working for the Host Club was sometimes exhausting. Each Host’s personality was so incredibly different that it was near infuriating when one of them were injured, bodily or not. But it was also amusing to no end, and their playful banter often brought smiles to many people’s faces.

Sora glanced at the clock before turning back to her work. She only had another hour before she had to go change into her uniform for school. (She’d often bring it with her to Ouran’s kitchens.) When she took another glance toward the window, and saw the sun just coming up over the horizon, Sora smiled at her crazy antics. She still couldn’t believe that she woke up at 5 every morning just to bake.

It really was the only time to do such things, though, because after her morning routine, Sora hardly had any time to herself during the rest of the day. She’d often spend hours at the Host Club, serving her baked goods, and then she wouldn’t get home until the sun was going back down. Homework had to be dealt with, by then, and Sora was just so exhausted from doing so much work that she’d often fall asleep before she even reached her pillow.

Her fingers picked up their pace a bit, knowing that time was running out. The loaf of banana bread in the oven was quickly pulled out and inspected before it was placed on a cooling rack. A batch of chocolate chip cookies replaced them in the oven.

While she waited for them to bake, Sora looked around at what she had made. Two hours didn’t seem like an awfully long time to spend baking, but Sora certainly put good use to every second. Baked goods littered the space; anywhere that a pie could rest, it did. With a small chuckle of relief, Sora went about wrapping each piece in tissue paper. She was already imagining the faces of joy that she’d see later on in the day.

// After School: Host Club //

Sora was even more tired than she was before, but she didn’t complain. This was what she loved to do, after all, and what better way to do it than to dedicate yourself to the task? She watched as Haruhi entered the kitchen with an empty tray.

“Need some more?” Sora wondered, pausing in her sip of tea. She often stayed in the kitchen while the Host Club was doing their thing, simply because she knew she’d feel claustrophobic if she ventured out. She didn’t particularly like too many people, especially a room full of swooning girls.

Haruhi smiled and nodded, “The banana bread was a big hit, Sora. It’s like they’ve never tasted it before!”

Sora laughed a bit. She got up from her seat, ignored her aching legs, and went over to the fresh bread she’d baked just that morning. As she was cutting a few more slices, she shrugged, “I don’t know, Haruhi. Maybe they really never had it. It’s not what I’d call fancy, after all.”

Haruhi helped her put the slices onto the silver tray, “I suppose. How depraved they must be feeling. Oh!” she looked up, “I nearly forgot! We’ve also run out of Strawberry Pie. They seemed to like that as well. Kyoya wanted to know if you had any left.”

With a quick look about the kitchen, Sora realized that she did not have any more pie. She frowned, “Should I make some? The Host Club’s almost over, isn’t it?”

Haruhi nodded, glancing at the clock, “Yes...I’ll go see if anyone can help you out. Two people can make it faster, after all!”

Sora watched as Haruhi carefully left the kitchen, balancing the tray all the while. She hoped Haruhi didn’t send in somebody like Tamaki or the twins. (She tried teaching them to bake before, you see, and it was a bad experience.)

While she waited for her helper, Sora quickly made space to work. She moved all the baked goods to the other counter and began getting the ingredients out for speedy use. She didn’t have much time to make the pie, and she wanted to get it into the oven as fast as possible. She was so busy that she hardly even noticed who had entered the kitchen.

Takashi Morinozuka was a quiet but appreciative man. While other were simply pleased that Sora spent so much time on them, Mori was more than pleased. He knew the effort that Sora exhibited each day better than anyone else, save maybe Honey. (Honey and Sora were the best of friends, and would often be found baking together. Well, Sora did most of the baking, actually...Honey taste-tested.)

With a clear of his throat, he let Sora know he was there. She glanced up quickly and threw him a bright smile, “Mori! I’m so happy they sent you,” she certainly did sound relieved, “hurry up and come here!”

He walked over to her, heart beating irregularly. (It always did in her presence, whether he wanted it to or not.) He allowed her to throw an apron over his clothes, gulping when she reached around him to tie it in the back. He resisted the urge to pull her even closer.

“Alright,” Sora said when she pulled back. There was a determined glaze to her pretty eyes that had Takashi nearly smiling. “We need to make this as fast as possible. Could you start on the filling? I need you to cut the leaves off of all the strawberries and then split them in half. Ok?”

Mori nodded, grabbed a knife, and immediately got to work, always with the realization that Sora was right there beside him.

It was a while before either of them said anything. They were both busily doing their job and didn’t really thing of anything else. Well, almost, I suppose. Besides focusing on making the pie crust, Sora was day dreaming about the man beside her. Her cheeks were flushed a bit at her dirty thoughts, but she couldn’t possibly quell them. She wondered if Mori had ever thought such things about her. (He had – he was thinking about it right now – and that was why his own cheeks were rather red.)

The pie couldn’t have been finished sooner. When it was finally put into the oven, Sora breathed a sigh of relief and then turned to Mori. He stood there, looking tall and accommodating in the kitchen, and Sora realized that she couldn’t have had a better assistor.

They studied each other in a silent manner, but the air was far from restricting. There was a refreshing sigh to the room that had them both at ease and comfortable. A slow smile worked its way onto Sora’s face, “Thanks, Mori. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He nodded a jerking nod, as though there was something else on his mind and he hadn’t quite heard her. There was, indeed, something else on his mind, and it could be clearly seen through his dilated, dark orbs as they watched Sora. The girl herself seemed to know what he was thinking of, for she couldn’t seem to stay still; she fiddled with her hands and twisted the fabric of her frilly white apron, until – they both rushed forward at the same uneven pace, and pulled each other close. Lips descended upon lips not a second later.

A breathy sigh escaped Sora’s mouth as Mori’s released hers. His lips instead traveled down her neck as he pushed her into the counter. She was quick to retain a seat on said counter, and all but threw her legs around Mori’s waist. It was a moment of crazed, animalistic passion that neither wanted to forgo.

Neither would have had to, as well, had the door of the kitchen not opened and Tamaki Suoh himself had not walked in. Needless to say, he gasped rather loudly at the sight of them and turned a very bright red color. Both Sora and Mori pulled back to gaze at him. (Neither were as red as Tamaki; Sora was sure that he could pass as a lobster.)

“W-Wh-W-Waa....??” the Prince certainly looked lost for words. The next moment, his eyes were rolling back into his head and he was collapsing onto the ground.

Sora couldn’t help herself; a giggled escaped her lips as she studied Tamaki’s fainted form. (Which was twitching, by the way, just a bit.)

“I think we should get Tamaki to a – “ her chin was abruptly pushed back around before she could finish, and those sweet lips were hers again. She could not deny him, even though she was quite aware that Tamaki would wake up very cramped if they didn’t get him to a couch. The thought was pushed away a moment later, however, when Mori’s tongue suddenly found residence on Sora’s lips, and well, she knew she was a goner by then.

Sora didn’t think Mori would be the one to instigate anything else, but she knew that if she didn’t get satisfied now, she’d have to satisfy herself later without Mori. That was never fun, after all, especially when she did a rather sloppy job of it. Sora pushed herself off the counter and took Takashi’s hands, silently pulling him from the kitchen and the pantry.

It was a tight fit, but Sora certainly didn’t mind. When the door was closed and locked, and she turned back around, Mori was already finding a way to remove his clothing. Sora couldn’t really see his face, but she was sure he looked downright hungry. She immediately stepped up to offer her assistance.

He had a nice chest, or so her hands told her. She couldn’t actually see it, but it definitely felt good; she kept her fingers lightly resting there as Mori tilted her chin up to kiss her. It wasn’t until her shirt was halfway off did Sora realize that it was Mori’s doing. His lips were dangerous; whenever he kissed her, she couldn’t seem to remember her own name.

His hands were dangerous too, Sora realized. She leaned into his body and held in a moan. He was too good at this, and they were hardly past foreplay yet! She held in another breathy groan when she felt his hands slide beneath the cups of her bra.

Then, suddenly, she was pushed up against the pantry wall, and she immediately decided that being ravished by Takashi was her new favorite hobby. When his hands tweaked her nipples in a rather rough manner, Sora didn’t even bother to hold in her moan. Her head hit the wall as she arched her back, and her mind couldn’t possibly keep up.

“Tak...a...shi...” another moan followed quickly. The man before her knew exactly how to touch her. It was as though he had done it before, a thousand times. (He had, incidentally, but only in his dreams.) He leaned forward to bite down on the conjuncture of her neck.

Sora was quickly wanting more. The little touches weren’t satiating her burning desire; she pushed Mori back and allowed her aching fingers to attach themselves to his belt.

It wasn’t right, she told herself, that Mori was having all the fun. She decided that she deserved a piece of that excitement and was not slow to achieve it. By the time Mori’s trousers were pulled away, he was biting his lip to hold in a moan of his own.

To the outside world, things were going far from smoothly. Kyoya was having a bit of a fit inside his own mind. Tamaki was collapsed on the couch, still unconscious, and Takashi was gone. He had lost two of his Hosts to unknown reasons and the customers were starting to wonder. Haruhi claimed that Sora had been there not long before, and the pie that was in the oven was proof enough of that. But the problem was, of course, that she was gone as well, which left Kyoya only one conclusion. Takashi and Sora were together. Before leaving the kitchens to return to his customers – and Tamaki’s, as well. The twins were taking care of Takashi’s – he turned to Haruhi and sighed, “Get the pie out of the oven before it burns. We’ll look for those two later.”

Inside the pantry, neither Sora nor Mori had heard anything that went on in the kitchen, for they were far too busy. The passion had escalated tenfold by now, and could simply not be sent away. Grunts and moans could be heard only if you really listened, for they were so quiet – so discreetly intense – that they were hardly there at all. What was there was the indescribable desire burning through both boy and girl. It was a desire that was not easily quenched, but neither complained. Their pace was picked up as the heat increased.

Sora hadn’t realized how animalistic Takashi could get. His teeth sunk into her skin as he ground their hips together. It was such a painfully pleasurable bliss that neither could seem to get enough of it. Sora gasped as his erection was jostled against her craving core.

“Mmm,” Takashi grunted, pulling his head back to press his lips firmly to Sora’s. They quickly got lost within the passionate comfort that each movement brought about.

Clad only in the barest of things, the two suddenly stumbled back from the wall and landed on the ground, Sora tumbling over Takashi’s figure in a jumbled mess. He didn’t seem to mind, however, and only pulled her ever closed. Her head came down and their lips met once again in a sloppy kiss.

Appreciative noises were heard from the two as the last of the clothing was peeled from the heated bodies. And then everything stopped, and Sora eyes locked onto Takashi’s, as though she knew that this moment was the last one they’d share before being wholly connected. Gently, Mori trailed his fingertips down her arms, then her back, until they grasped lightly onto her bare hips as she hovered above him. Their eyes never broke contact as he slowly lowered her onto his thickened shaft.

He laid very still as she adjusted, and even though he dearly wanted to jostle his hips against hers, strained to keep his body locked that way. Sora tilted her head back, parted lips forming a silent moan. He was buried up to the hilt, and was squeezing walls that none had ever touched before. Finally, when the heat was getting too much even for her, Sora opened her partly lidded eyes and gazed down at Takashi. He stared back up, fingers twitching in angst at her hips, and Sora lifted herself up.

When she slammed back down, stars erupted in her eyes. A deep moan bubbled from her lips as she felt Takashi move. He was bouncing her on his stiff manhood, pacing himself at what could only be described as rapid fire. Faces twisted in equal bliss, the two moved as one in the darkened shadows of the small pantry.

Sora leaned forward, grinding her hips in circles around Takashi’s cock. She pressed her full breasts against his sweaty chest and captured his lips with hers. It was a messy kiss, annunciated by short spasms of breath with every twist of their bodies. Sora soon gave up and moved her lips to suck on the tender skin of Takashi’s neck. He let out a feral growl at the sudden onslaught, and bucked his hips rather harshly into hers. Sora’s responding moan made shivers run lustfully down his body.

Her breathing was coming out sparingly now, as though breathing wasn’t something she was bothering to do. Heavy pants were pushed against her lips as Takashi leaned up into a sitting position. He spread her legs farther and grabbed onto Sora’s ass, pulling her forward with a strength she didn’t know he had. Now upright, it was rather easy to reach Takashi’s lips. Sora threw her arms around his neck and held on for dear life and he rammed her hips against his in a heavy barrage. She had to bury her mouth against his neck to hide her panting, breathy moans.

“Haa! Mmmm, Taka...shi...!” sounding more fitful by the second, Sora knew she was coming to an end. By the looks of it, Takashi was, as well. He roughly slammed her hips into his a few powerful times before suddenly spilling into her, head thrown back in his obvious bliss.

Sora was quickly pulled over the edge as well. She let herself go, feeling more satisfied than ever before, and promptly fell against his heaving chest as he pumped a few last times.

They sat there for a few silent minutes. The only sound coming from them was their heavy breathing. Finally, Sora pulled back a bit, lifting herself off his manhood and then securing a seat beside him. Takashi brought an arm around her and she buried her head into his chest.

“I think...the pie...is probably done,” she gasped, but then turned suddenly to plant a loving kiss on Takashi’s chest, as though she didn’t really care about the Strawberry Pie.

Takashi hummed and kissed her hair, staying silent as he rushed to catch his breath. There was only one thing on his mind: He should help Sora out in the kitchen more often.

Extended Ending

Tamaki gasped on the couch, a hand over his forehead as though deathly ill, “Oh, Kyoya...it was terrifying! I’m not sure how my poor heart could withstand such a sight!”

The black haired boy just sighed, rolling his eyes behind his slender glasses. At least that explained where the two had run off to. He decided to just leave them alone for a bit.

...The guests had already left anyway.