Sunday, June 30, 2013

A Hayato Gokudera Lemon -- Wildcat

Character: Hayato Gokudera

Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

OC: [Name]

Inspiration: Just wanted to do something for KHR! ^_^  This is TYL!, by the way

Hayato Gokudera is far from perfect.  He shows his imperfection in many ways, too many to count or remember.  You usually don't mind.  It is a part of his personality and you love him for it.  But some things bother you, just a little bit, like a nagging sensation in the back of your mind.
He smokes after sex.  When you're laying down, still lingering in the zinging bliss that has only just been yours, he is sitting up smoking.  You asked him why, once, and he told you that smoking helps him come back to earth.  But you wish he wouldn't do it.  It's something a person does after hooking up with someone random, or after making a mistake.  It's not something you should do after fucking with your long term girlfriend.  You've told him this, too, but he brushes you off.
You try not to care.  You try to remind yourself that no one is perfect.  That you have your impurities as well.  You're quick to accuse and you hold grudges.  You get jealous easily.  You swear and sometimes lie.  But you could never be accused of not loving someone properly.
"Mm…Hayato?" you wonder, watching him take a drag from his cigarette.  He glances down at you, his gradient eyes unreadable.  You touch his hipbone and whisper, "What are you most afraid of?"
He raises a brow at your random question and sighs, blowing the cigarette smoke into the air and watching it curl across the room.  You do this often, this strange pillow talk.  And he usually indulges your curiosity because this is the only time he feels so relaxed, so empowered.  But he doesn't want to talk about fears, not tonight, and so instead of truth he just scoffs and asks, "What kind of stupid question is that?"
You shrug, not put off by his gruff behavior.  There is little that can make you turn away from this Hayato.  Here, like this, when you are very much alone, Hayato is softer, gentler, sweeter than he is in public.
"I'm afraid of death," you murmur, dragging your hand past his hipbone and down his thigh.  He watches your progression with a slightly wary eye.  "And going into labor," you add as an afterthought.  It is in great amusement that you watch your lover's reaction to that.
He turns characteristically red and then looks away, shoving his chin up like a perturbed child.  You giggle softly and continue to touch his skin.  Then you say, "Hayato, I want you again."
The atmosphere changes immediately.  Hayato isn't a child anymore, but now he's a man.  A man who looks very attractive with only a sheet covering his nudity.  A man you want very much to come into your arms and make you blind and insightful all at once.
He turns to you, his cigarette hanging precariously from parted lips.  You slowly sit up.  The sheet tumbles gently down your body and his eyes turn to focus on your revealed skin.  Gingerly, you reach out and take the cigarette from his mouth, replacing it with your lips.  He responds, slowly at first but with gradual acceptance.  As he does, the air around you ignites like fire, as though the cigarette has burned its way into a small explosion.
Then you are reaching out, curling your leg over the both of his so as to reach the ashtray on the bedside table.  The new position is also accepted, even appreciated, and Hayato drags you back down into the blistering heaven of your kiss.  His hands arch around your bum and he pulls you close against him, core to core as the sheet unravels around you and falls away.  And the feeling that comes from the intimate proximity makes you want to forget.  Yourself, the obligations that came with the sunrise, even Hayato.  You want to forget his smoking and his complaining and just remember the way he makes love to you, as though you are the only person alive who means anything at all to him.
This isn't true and you know it.  You know that there are plenty of other people that Hayato cares for, though he won't admit it aloud.  But in these moments, these shards of lust, you like to think that you are special.  That you cannot be replaced. 
His lips duck from yours to kiss down your neck, leaving a delightful trail of kisses down your chest.  He hums a little and the vibrations shoot over you, cascading down your body and transforming into tiny little shivers as they go.  Your hands reach for him, clutching at his chest, his waist, his hair, and you watch him attack your breasts with lips that are far from gentle.  He is callous and harsh and rough.
But it still excites you, in ways that no man has ever succeeded before.  You shiver into him, fingers curling around his head and pulling him closer as his tongue rolls over your nipple.  You watch him silently, your eyes warm and loving.  Whether he sees your expression, you can't say.  But his cheeks are a little pink as he moves his attention to your other breast, his hands wrapping around you and pulling you closer.  His member begins to harden and you roll your hips against it, making him growl.
He likes you like this, all faux dominant.  It isn't really your nature to be like that, but in the bedroom you are surprisingly rough.  Perhaps it is because you are so submissive in all your other ventures, and you grow tired of it.  Perhaps it is simply because you know Hayato likes his women to be aggressive and you want to please him.  Whichever the reason, you decide not to give in without a fight of some sort.  It is more fun that way, anyway.
His eyes shift over yours as though he knows the direction of your thoughts, and you smile a little.  He pulls away from your breast and leans back, as though in no hurry to dive into the passion of the moment.  Instead, he watches you.  Watches the slightly breathless way your chest moves, and the flash of your eyes, and the way you are sitting atop him as though you own the world and him and are responsible for the lust that has woven its way through his body.  You are, but there are many things that Hayato won't admit to and that is one of them. 
He wants to light another cigarette, but he also wants to taste you.  He also wants to have you, to hilt himself as deeply within you as possible and make you scream his name.  He's never wanted to do anything more, and so the next moment, he throws an arm over the headboard, the image of laziness, and drawls, "Get on your back."
It is a test, you think.  He is wondering which part you will be playing: submissive or dominant.  But you have already decided which part to play in this particular game, and so it is with a raised brow and a vivid smirk that you respond, "Make me."  And he does.  A moment later.
He rolls you roughly onto your back, as though he knew what you'd been planning to say and had been preparing to move.  When you look back up at him, he is smirking a delicious smirk and his eyes are bathed in a sort of warning, gleaming out at you through the thick atmosphere.  You like that expression, very much.
"Make you?" he wonders, leaning in and brushing his mouth over yours.  He watches you swallow, watches you shift a little beneath him.  He presses his member against your thigh and you dig your nails into the skin of his shoulders, anticipating, waiting.  But he is far from finished teasing you. 
He smirks widely.  "I'll make you do lots of things," he whispers, and his voice is throaty and dark, the husk of what it once was.  It makes you burn with desire, with uncontrollable lust.  You bite back a moan as his teeth nip at your ear, and your nails dig farther into his skin as though holding on for dear life. 
You want him.  Want him to take you hard and without mercy.  You are about to wonder where your slightly masochistic tendencies have arisen from when he erases your thoughts in one thick move.  His fingers roll over you core suddenly, without warning, and you gasp aloud at the zinging sensation that drills through your body.
Oh, he isn't done teasing you.  Not at all.  You can see it in his eyes as they leer down at you, and you can feel it in the tense way his body arches over yours.  His long fingers harshly pumps into you and it hurts a little, because you aren't quite ready for that sort of penetration.  But after a searing moment, the pain turns into twisted pleasure that makes it difficult to breathe, and you find yourself gasping and shaking from the effort.
Hayato merely watches you.  His eyes are narrowed slits that take in every single action you make, every shiver you try to hold back and every moan you bite down.  The fact that you're trying so hard to defy him makes him so turned on he can barely stand it.  His erection presses into you like a warning, and neither of you seem to be able to ignore it.  But he doesn’t want to take you just yet.  He is having too much fun watching you struggle.
"Hayato…" you moan, when his fingers increase their already rapid pace.  The way he is going, you're gonna come faster than ever.  You open your eyes to look up at him, taking in the sight of his face, the way his silver hair falls into his eyes, that way he appears to be waiting for something as he stares down at you.  What he is waiting for, you don't know, but when you murmur his name again, back arching just a little off the mattress, he seems to find it.  The next moment, Hayato is jerking his fingers back and you are suddenly cold, cold from the disappearance of his touch.
You frown and he chuckles, nudging you legs farther apart as he nestles himself between them.  Your eyes jerk down to him member, which is aching against your core, so close and yet so far.  When you look back up at your lover, he has this strange expression on his face.  Almost like realization, but different, softer.  He presses his forehead to yours and hums, breath wavering out and curling over your skin.
He kisses you in that same, soft manner.  It is so uncharacteristic of the moment, which has been so rough up until now, that it shocks you, excites you.  Hayato is so rarely gentle, but when he is your heart nearly explodes with warmth.  You love this reluctant side of him.  Love it so much that, as his hands drift over your body and he eases into you, you can hardly breathe.
He is slow, at first, but that changes the moment he callously hilts himself within you.  The move is so sudden that you let out a whimper, eyes wide and lips trembling from the pain.  Yes, Hayato can be gentle.  But he shows his emotions through his roughness, through his instinctually darker side.  You arch your back when he thrusts without giving you time to adjust.
"Hayato!" you whine, eyes burning with tears.  You aren't going to cry, they are just the result of his harsh movements on your body.  But you are going to give him a piece of your mind.  You hate it when he does this sort of thing.  It isn't love when he only takes and doesn't give.  And it makes your mad with fury.
He frowns and sighs, slowing down just a hair.  He won't apologize and he won't appear to be sorry.  Maybe he isn't.  But this pace is better, more humane, and soon he is making pleasure saturate your every pore.  You reach for him and tilt your head back, and his lips immediately nip and kiss at the tender flesh.
But soon it is not enough.  The role you are playing in this game has turned more submissive than dominant and you don't appreciate it.  You want to get him back for taking you before you were completely ready for him, too.  So you wait for the opportune moment, when he is burying a moan into your skin and has shed all sense of his harsh outer persona, and then you strike.
Before Hayato can even understand what has happened, he is laying on his back and you are sinking down on his erection.  And it feels so good that Hayato, at first, can only lay there and take it.  But then the realization of your move begins to make sense in his mind, and Hayato narrows his eyes up at you.  His large hands slip around your bottom, engulfing it as he drags you down roughly, impaling you on his shaft.  You bite back a moan and don't give in.  You can be fearless, brave, even in the face of your dominant lover.  And you'll show him that you're someone to be reckoned with.
So you move your hips faster, rolling them around his member and taking him as deeply into you as you can.  Your hands come up to rest on his chest, but they don't remain idle.  Soon, you are leaning down to lick one perk nipple, teeth biting gently and rolling it between playful, mischievous fingers.  And Hayato is beginning to see why he has stayed with you for as long as he has.  When motivated, you are an utter wildcat.
He bites his lips harshly to prevent a moan from escaping, but it is damned hard.  The way you are moving those hips, and that tongue, and those fingers are making him insane.  He is beginning to feel traces of an orgasm and he knows instinctively that it will be powerful, delirious.  He swallows down another moan, but some of it escapes.  The slight whimpering sound makes you jerk your eyes up to his and smirk vividly.  Hayato feels his cheeks explode with an annoying blush and you chuckle, hips roughly caressing his as your pace increases.  You will drag that orgasm right out from under him.  You will bury him so far into those delicious little whimpers that he won't be able to do anything but lay there and moan.
You careen backwards, suddenly lifting yourself off his member.  The look in his eye tells you that he has no idea what you're doing, and his confusion makes you somehow even more turned on.  The absence of him makes you pound, makes you delirious with lust that you can hardly move.  But you do, you turn around and face the wall before sinking back down and taking him into you once more.  And this new position makes you both gasp and hurtle forward as your orgasms lick at your skin and begin to drown within you.
"Fuck," you hear Hayato ground out, his teeth clenched as he watches your intertwined bodies.  The sight of his cock being driven into your wet core makes him want to come.  But he doesn't, yet.  He staves off that impulse with pride.  He will not come before you, not this time.  He needs to watch you come undone before he can hope to find release.  Even so, he curses louder, throwing his head back and closing his eyes.  That delicious sight will only make him come faster. 
You arch your back and moan, Hayato's name filling the static silence around you.  It feels good to say his name, like a tribute, like a sacred murmur of emotion.  You push yourself back onto his member and roll your hips again.  He grabs your hips and curses at the intense feeling, his hand coming down to slap your skin roughly.  The suddenness of his move makes your pleasure jolt forward.  The coil within you is shattering a moment later and you're suddenly coming, flying into a world that makes you cry out.
Hayato drags his hazy vision back to you, to the way your back arches forward, the way your thrusting faster than ever.  He growls out and watches you come, wishing that he could watch your expression as well.  Instead, he focuses on the strain of your body, the tension that releases from your limbs, the way you jerk up and down and his cock and cry out his name again and again. 
And the sight of you makes him come, too, makes him so ready to spill himself that he doesn't bother trying to stop it.  He throws his head back forcefully, slamming into the headboard, and grits his teeth.  He can't stop the flow of curses that come spilling from his lips, just as he can't stop the seed that spills into you.  He is strangely helpless in the face of this lust, this passion.  He surrenders like he never has before, coming undone in a similarly helpless manner as his hips lift yours up with the force of his thrusts.
You look at him over your shoulder, pleased.  It isn't every day that you give into that sliver of dominance.  But you know that Hayato loves it, though he'll never admit it.  He likes when you're assertive, likes when you take control of things.  And so before he has completely finished dragging out his pleasure, you lift your hips away mid-thrust and you turn back around to face his sudden glares.
He is angry with you for cutting him off, but you don't care.  Instead, you crawl back over his form and he all but smashes his hips back to yours, cursing again as he enters you.  You let him, even though having him thrust into you like this doesn't really bring you pleasure anymore.  Your orgasm has made you satiated, full.  But he isn't quite finished dragging out the singing bliss, and so you simply watch him as he closes his eyes and sighs out.  And then you lean down and kiss him, because suddenly you want to show him that you love him, however silently.  To your surprise, Hayato hesitates for only a second before kissing you back.
You sink back down onto his member as his thrusts stop.  You are content to remain like this, in this state of unchanging happiness.  Your lips move gently with each other and soon, Hayato is tugging you back to his chest, rolling you over and slipping out of you.  His leg jerks between both of yours in a tangle of limbs, your arms raveling around skin and fingers threading through hair as your lips move.  Gently, furiously, always contradicting.
And then Hayato is pulling you closer, hand softly stroking up and down you back as your lips go slower, beginning a sort of sacred rhythm that makes you want to cry out in that searing happiness.  He kisses you deeply, and then he pulls away to press kisses to your forehead, your cheek, your eyelid.  And as you close your eyes and snuggle against his body, you hear him whisper, "I'm most afraid of losing you."
For a moment, you are confused.  You open your eyes and look into his, which are staring at you in something akin to expectation.  Then you remember your question before all this passion started.  And you smile, smile as if you are the happiness woman alive.  Maybe you are. 
"Hayato," you whisper, feeling your heart fill with love.  You are about to say something more, like how sweet he is, or how much you love him, but he doesn't let you.
His cheeks are pink when he kisses you roughly, dragging you back into his dominance.  "Shut up, woman," he mutters, unwilling to let you say anything that might degrade his manliness.  He is not sweet and he never will be, but that is ok.  As you smile and kiss him back, you decide that you don't want him to be sweet.  You have long accepted him for who he is.  Rough, dominant, crass, and reluctantly loving.  


Friday, June 28, 2013

A Might Gai Lemon -- Love Silently

Character: Might Gai

Fandom: Naruto

OC: [Name]

Inspiration: Just the simple fact that Gai needs some love. ^_^

You weren't a patient woman.  You liked action over thought, strength over strategy.  Which is why you paired nicely with someone like Gai, who shared the sentiment.  Except…perhaps not always in the same way.
"Aren't you awake yet, [Name]?!  You said you wanted to come training with me this morning!" Gai called, pulling you roughly from your sleep.  The sun hadn't even come up yet.  A sleepy glance at the alarm clock told you it was somewhere around 4 in the morning.  It was the usual time that Gai got up, but you much preferred sleep if you could get it. 
Sure, the night before you might have mentioned joining him in passing, but you hadn't actually thought that Gai would wake you up at 4 in the morning to go taijutsu training with him!
"Come on, [Name], I want to leave soon!" he tossed you a haphazard grin that, even in the dim light of very, very early morning, dazzled you brightly.
Your relationship with Gai was equally haphazard.  It had started out as a close friendship, and then as an odd tumble into bed, and then it had progressed into something of a partnership.  You’d moved into his place about a year ago, and you'd been playing a rather interesting game of 'husband and wife' ever since.  Which never failed to amuse Kakashi and Asuma.
"Gai…" you groaned, and sat up.  You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and bit back a yawn.  Once Gai's mind was set on something, he wouldn't verge from its path.  Which meant that you were going training with him whether you liked it or not.  End of story.
He was already dressed by the time you stumbled into the kitchen, wearing only a loose fitting robe that dragged down your naked shoulder.  He didn't even seem to notice your lack of apparel, much less the fact that you were wearing nothing beneath it.  Nudity was natural in this apartment.  Sacred.  And besides, the moments spent with Gai yesterday evening didn't exactly require clothes.
Gai glanced at you for a moment.  And for a moment, you thought you saw the sharp darkness that he'd worn last night, making love to you.  But then it was gone and you were convinced you'd imagined it.  But not altogether convinced that you couldn't rekindle it so that you didn't have to leave the house.
Alright, so your desire for intimacy was purely for selfish reasons, but when was intimacy selfless?  As long as you could stay in bed, curled up around the man you'd haphazardly given your heart to, you'd be happy.  More than happy.
So it was without a single moment of hesitation that you walked into Gai's arms and pressed a deep kiss to his mouth.  He seemed surprised at the suddenness of the kiss, but not altogether displeased by it.  He allowed you to remain huddled up beside him for a long moment, sharing in the pleasantness of the contact.  And then he pulled away, slowly, because his mind was still very much bent on his morning training.
But it wouldn't be for long, not it you had anything to say on the matter.  You turned his chin back to you and kissed him again, deeper, more passionately.  Your arms slid from his neck to touch his chest, the contours of his muscles, down the delicious curve of his hip.  You always thought of him as your rock, not only because he was always there for you emotionally, but also because of his physical form, and how it always, always made you feel safe.  But now it was playing less on your feeling of safety and more on the desire pushing up within you. 
He made a soft noise against your mouth and slipped his hands around you, sinking very slowly into the passion you so obviously felt.  His hands were large and warm around your hips, and he pulled you close against him as his lips moved fervently with yours.  After a long moment, he pulled back.
"I know what you're doing, [Name]," he murmured, his eyes amused.  You grinned and kissed him again.  And again.  And again.
"Do you?" you whispered, dragging your fingers back up his body to touch his chest, to glorify it, to melt against it.  Your selfish needs were quickly changing from wanting to remain in bed to wanting to have him within you, around you, on top of you.
Gai hummed and said, in a suddenly bright voice, "Of course!  This is some new training regime!  How amazing of you to manipulate the power of youth to such an extent!"
For a moment, you paused, shocked and a little chagrined.  But then your emotions melted into amusement, and you found yourself nodding.  "Why yes, that's exactly right," you chortled, and dragged your mouth to his neck, his jaw, his collarbone.  "Today's lesson will be in patience.  Your goal is to make delicious, hot love to me and stay in bed all day."  And you kissed him again to annunciate your words, grinning at the sudden blush that spread over his cheeks.
It was times like these that Gai wondered how he had been able to make a woman like you fall for a guy like him.  He looked over your features, at the delicate way your eyes peered up at him, your body pressed against him.  And then he tilted your chin up and you wholeheartedly kissed him, lips moving wildly with his.  You grinned at the surprised noise he made.
His hands immediately slid down to engulf your bottom and he hauled you into him, pressing you tightly against his rock hard form and allowing you knowledge of exactly what he was feeling.  It never took much to turn your lover on, and that was a fact that you often took advantage of.  He tore his lips from yours and began a serious of firm kisses that dragged down your neck.  When he got to the conjuncture of your shoulder, he began biting gently into the skin and it drove you insane.
"Gai!" you loudly swore, wrapping one leg around his waist and grinding your core against his.  His hard erection was straining against green cloth and it was delicious to touch.  Your hands sought him and he groaned, heaving you ever closer.
Your first thought was how surprisingly hard he was already, and how much this pleased you.  Your fingers moved against him delicately but firmly, pumping as much of him as the green suit would allow.  Your second thought was that the damned thing had to come off.  You were ready for skin.  Pure, warm, thrashing skin.
The only problem was that it was damn hard to figure out how to remove his stupid jump suit.  Even after being with him for an entire year and having countless intimate encounters, you had no idea where to start.  There were no zippers, no straps, not even a touch of Velcro to guide you on your way.  Just smooth, untouched fabric.  You sighed.
A moment later, you were shoving Gai backwards onto the bedroom after dragging him rather heartlessly onto the bed.  He looked a little surprised at your roughness, but it wasn't anything new to him and he certainly didn't mind it.  You were tough, you said whatever was on your mind, and in the bedroom your passion was as youthful as an adolescent's.  Er…minus the quick finishes and - never mind.  Both Gai's mind and his narration tips were already disappearing fast.  Because then, you were moving your hands everywhere over his body, trying to find a way to remove his stupid clothes.
It was weirdly erotic, in a 'day in the life' sort of way.  You touched him plenty of times on the arm.  (When he was leading his fair maiden to the store or escorting her down the street.)  But something in the atmosphere altered the way it made Gai feel.  Now, the way your fingers drifted over the covered muscles in his bicep, forearm, wrist, made him feel giddy.  And very turned on.
If you knew what your touch was doing to him, you didn't show it on your face.  Instead, you simply continued your search, running your hands down his chest, his sides, over his hips, thighs, until all at once you were on your back and Gai was hovering above you, looking a little more than determined and feeling harder than ever.
"Impatient?" you wondered cheekily up at him, and he grinned but said nothing.  Then, all at once, he was out of his jump suit, tumbling the fabric down his chest and over his hips and off the bed entirely.
"Very," he admitted, and you could see why.  Gai didn’t wear underwear with his jump suit.  Apparently it 'got in the way of his youthful training' or something.  You looked down at his member and raised both eyebrows at his enormous size.  (Which you were already quite used to but were always shocked at nonetheless.)
"I can see that," you smirked, and then sat up.  You still had clothes on and you wanted to change that, and fast.  The passion had only just began but it was often like this, often the first round was a race to be coupled, united, together.  And then things got slower afterwards, thanks to Gai's splendid stamina.  And right about now, you were very much in need of him.  Inside you.  And you told him that.
He blushed but grinned anyway, because he liked it when you spoke your mind, especially when it was dirty.  You took his hands and guided them to your bare hips, just beneath your night shirt.  And then you watched him slide his warm, calloused fingers up your body, removing the article of clothing as he went. 
Shivers erupted within you, racing along the areas of your skin that still singed from his touch.  Luckily, you weren't wearing much.  Just the nightshirt and panties, which were both quickly dealt with.  A moment later, you were on your back, bare as the day you were born, and Gai was hovering over you with eyes that studied and shone and screamed out in lust.
"I don't think I can wait much more," he told you honestly and a little sheepishly.  But you didn't mind and you let him know this.  You slide your hands up his chest and around his neck, bringing him down into a kiss.  As your lips moved faster and faster, you curled one leg around his waist and he moaned a little at the resulting friction.
"Who says I want you to?" you asked callously, challenging him with smoky eyes, eyes that burned and seared with desire.  He swallowed and then chuckled a bit, because this scene was so familiar to him.  It was so often like this, just before their coupling.  Harsh words that didn't fully add up, that could be contributed to the heat of the moment, the crass need which pulsated through them. 
"Gai…" you murmured, dragging him from his thoughts, and the sound of your voice and the sight of your face made him want to get lost in you, eternally.  He heaved your hips to his and lined himself up, not waiting a moment longer.
As he slide into you, the world exploded.  There was no other feeling that could be compared to being one with Gai.  Even comparing him to other men seemed wrong, silly.  He could be hard to live with and strange at times, but Gai was the only one who could ever fill you up in such a way.  Physically and also emotionally, mentally, spiritually.  You gasped out and arched your back, feeling him hilt himself entirely in you.  The effects of him began to tread through your body like flames, imploding little shivers just beneath your skin.  You blindly reached for him.
And then he moved, just a little at first, but it was enough to make you cry out.  He was so big, so hard, that it didn't take long for you to start whimpering his name.  His thrusts only further quickened after that, until he was ramming into you so fast and so hard that you could see only him and the stars that danced around your head.
He grabbed your leg and heaved it over his shoulder, thrumming his hips against yours in powerful lunges.  Your fingers curled around the sheets as you held on for dear life, eyes locking onto his.  And then, suddenly, Gai was turning you on your side and grasping that same leg, keeping it lodged firmly over his shoulder as he pumped himself in and out of you.  The new position altered your entire world.
"O-Oh!  Oh K-Kami…Gai!" your back arched again, this time sideways because of the new position.  Your breasts heaved against the sheets and Gai reached down to claim one, his hand gripping it firmly.  His attention only made your own pleasure heighten dramatically.
Those stars were now the only things you could see.  You didn't see the rising sun as it peeked above the horizon.  You didn't see the clock that showed just how late you'd made Gai.  Whether he saw either of these things, you also didn't know.  You only knew that you were about to come, that you were hanging off that edged, precarious cliff and you were about to fall.  And a moment later, you did.
A number of things could have made you orgasm at that moment.  But you were sure it was the way Gai looked at you above all else.  In love, in the sort of romance a girl dreams of all her life, does crazy things for just to make it real.  It shocked you to see him look at you like that, for you'd gone into your relationship with Gai in a most off hand way.  You liked him, enjoyed being with him, maybe even loved him, but never thought he'd ever return those feelings.  And the shock of it made you come hard and fast, thrusting back on his member as your cried out and found release.
"Gai!" you moaned.  He hoisted your hips farther to his and thrust faster, deeper as he rushed to catch up with you.  He muffled a moan into your leg, which was still flung haphazardly over his shoulder.  His eyes locked with your again and, in the hazy, melodramatic air of early morning, Gai realized what you'd discovered only moments before.  What he hadn't understood but knew was there, lurking beneath his emotions, his actions, his thoughts.  Love.
He moaned and released your leg, turning you suddenly back into your previous position.  His hand crashed down on the headboard, his other clutched your hips tightly, dragging them to his with every thrust.  You lay helpless beneath him, eyes watching him, hands grasping him.  Until finally, he came, finally he gave into you. 
And then he was spilling himself into you with a loud cry, eyes slammed shut against the wave of shattering passion.  His hips kept thrusting into yours and you reveled in the short, zinging sensations of desire that was used up and shredded away.  And then, you were taking Gai into your arms and he was going, willingly, burying his head into the crook of your neck and tugging you close to him.
You didn't tell each other what you both discovered.  It felt too insincere after sex, too dishonest.  It would have to wait for another time, when it was clear that emotional satisfaction overruled physical need.  For now, you would just lay there and revel in the silence and the peace that threaded through bodies and breath and caresses.  For now, you would just love silently.

Extended Ending

"So…did you forget we were gonna train this morning?" Kakashi wondered as Gai and him walked down the busy streets of Konoha.  Not that Kakashi had woken up at four in the morning just to train with Gai.  He'd come much later, at around ten, only to find the training spot empty.  Strange.
But Gai only shrugged, smirking a little.  The sight of it freaked Kakashi out a little.  "I did train.  All morning.  With [Name]."
Kakashi choked.  Gai's hand came down to forcefully slap him on the back, probably thinking he was helping.  But he wasn't and it only made Kakashi cough even harder.
Gai shrugged again, "She told me she wanted to train even harder later tonight."
Kakashi coughed again and then his mind frazzled and died on him.  He really needed to stop reading those Icha Icha books..


Wednesday, June 26, 2013

A Kankuro no Sabaku Lemon -- Lady Killer

Character: Kankuro no Sabaku

Fandom: Naruto

OC: Akane, jounin, lives in Sand village, is a dreamer

Inspiration: Kankuro freaking assaulted my mind the other day and forced me to love him.  That attention whore.

It was another sandy, windswept day in Suna.  The sun was, as always, blazing hot.  The calm breeze dismissed just a little, but the heat was still scorching, burning, searing, and Akane could hardly take it.  She hated Suna.
She hated it because of its temperature, because it made her skin dry and cracked and dark.  Because it was filled with people who were cruel and who didn't care about human lives.  Though, Akane mused quietly as she continued on her journey home, that last part had changed since the new Kazekage had taken his role years prior.  Which lead her to the only reason she liked Suna.  The Kazekage's brother.
He was a renown puppet master who was often gossiped about, mainly by the girls of the village.  Those who couldn't gain Gaara's attentions - which was everyone, just about - turned to Kankuro.  The ninja might have been interested in them a few years prior, but he clearly had other things on his mind these days.  And one of them was her.
Akane found herself smiling as she walked up to her apartment door.  She tried the knob and was unsurprised to find it unlocked.  Kankuro was often home before her, so she entered, feeling his chakra signature weaved around everything in the house.  It made her warm.
"Kankuro?  I'm ho-oh!" she exclaimed, eyes widening as she peered into the kitchen at where her fiancĂ© and both of his siblings were standing.  Temari was standing over her stove wearing a pink frilly apron, and Kankuro looked as though he'd been forced into a similar one.  When Akane stepped closer, Kankuro gave her an apologetic grimace and she almost laughed at the sight he made. 
Akane leaned in to kiss Kankuro quickly on the cheek before sliding into the seat beside Gaara, who glanced at her lazily and nodded in a silent 'hello'.  She sent him a small smile and reached over to fill a glass with some of the saki he was partaking in, ignoring the fact that it had been taken from her own cabinet.  Before she could inquire into their presence, Temari began speaking.
"Kankuro told us about your new schedule," she began, and Akane shot her lover a raised eyebrow.  He made a face behind his sister.  "So I decided to be a good sister-in-law and we all came to help make dinner."  She said this as though everyone was helping, but it was clear that her brothers had done nothing in all the time they'd been inside the kitchen.
"Oh?" Akane questioned, sipping at the sake.  "That's very nice of you, Temari," she said, though she'd rather just have a nice, slow evening with Kankuro instead.  Such things were rare because of their busy work schedules, and having siblings like Gaara and Temari often got in the way of their romantic life.  But Akane sucked it up because angering Temari was the last thing she wanted to do, especially since the older sand sibling had been very accommodating toward her since Kankuro asked her to marry him.
Temari smiled happily and nodded, "Yes, well, why don't you go get into something more comfortable?  We'll start getting dinner on the table."  And before Akane could really protest, Temari was shooing her from the room and she was trudging off with a sigh.  She liked Temari, honestly.  But sometimes the woman could be so persistent.  It made Akane mental! 
Five minutes later, Akane returned wearing a loose fitting kimono-style dress.  She was surprised to find that the table had been set and the food was being plated.  She was even more surprised to find the sand siblings working together without arguing.  With a raised eyebrow, Akane approached.
Kankuro glanced at her and then she could see from the way his eyes glinted that he wanted to be alone with her.  Wanted to wrap her up in his arms and kiss her.  She suddenly found herself craving the exact same thing, except her desires were wrought with something deeper, something more passionate.  She touched his arm and resisted the urge to pull him close in a rough kiss.
If the other siblings were aware of Akane and Kankuro's behavior, they didn't show it.  Instead, they all sat down at the circular table in the kitchen.  The food, Akane found, wasn't all that bad considering it was Temari who made it.  She wasn't exactly a good cook, but had her moments here and there.  Akane made sure to compliment her on the food, which earned her an appreciated smile.
"Akane, are you ready for our trip to Konoha next week?" Temari wondered, looking at her over the table.  The trip to Konoha was an annual one that the sand siblings always made during the summer months.  It was a sort of renewal of diplomacy between Suna and Konoha.  This would be the first year that Akane would be attending at well, as Kankuro's wife-to-be.  She slipped her hand over Kankuro's leg, out of sight, and nodded.
"I can't wait.  Getting out of this hot weather will be great," she said, slanting a glance at her lover, who had curled his fingers around hers idly as she spoke.  She also liked the idea of going with Kankuro.  It would be a sort of vacation for them, something that they rarely got to go on.  Though they'd been seeing each other for years now, the only vacation they'd gone on together had been to a resort in Suna.  It had been nice, but it didn't really feel like a vacation because there were constant reminders of Suna everywhere.
"Right?" Temari asked, shoveling another bite of food into her mouth.  "And Shikamaru will be there to escort us around.  And Naruto, too, which Gaara will like."  Gaara glanced up at the sound of his name but remained silent, as per usual.  And then Kankuro slowly dragged Akane's hand farther up his leg, and she looked at him in surprise.
He just smirked and leaned back, rough fingers brushing over her own as he gently forced her touch over his jeans.  She swallowed a little in nervousness, because doing such a thing around Kankuro's family seemed too wicked for her.  But then Akane remembered what Kankuro and her would have been doing right now if not for Temari and Gaara's presence, and she allowed herself to smirk a little as she acquiesced to his obvious wish.
He let go of her hand as she rolled her fingers over his core, which was just beginning to arch with traces of his arousal.  He was hardening rather quickly and it made Akane wonder if he'd been thinking of her for a while now.  She wouldn't be very surprised if he had.  She held back a laugh.
"This really is good, Temari," Akane announced casually.  She reached forward to take a sip of water and sighed.  "A nice ending to a stressful day."  Except not the perfect ending.  No, that would have to wait until she was alone with Kankuro.
Temari hummed and pushed her plate away.  "I'm glad we did this.  We really don't get to spend a lot of time together."  She began to say something about how they were always so busy, but Akane couldn't help but tune her out.  Kankuro was covering her hand with his own again and was forcing her to touch him faster, rougher.  Akane hoped that no one else noticed.
But then Temari laughed and stood, "Gaara, I really thing it's time to go.  You have a lot to thing to do before the day is over.  And something else is obviously on our dear brother's mind."
Akane blushed vividly and tugged her hand away from Kankuro's.  "A-ah, sorry, Temari-"
But Temari only laughed again and brushed her away.  "We'll leave you to it," she winked at her, and it wasn't until she'd pulled Gaara out of their apartment that Akane realized they hadn't stuck around to clear the dishes.  She scowled and began to clear away the dishes.
"Your sister is incorrigible," she complained, dumping the dirty plates in the sink and then going back for the glasses.  Kankuro chuckled and stood, "She'll be your sister too, soon enough.  And then she'll be even worse, trust me."  His words made her groan.
She stepped back up to the sink and Kankuro followed, looping his arms around her waist and propping his chin on her shoulder.  He nuzzled her neck, tugging down the shoulder of her makeshift kimono and pressing his lips against her.  She craned her neck to give him more room, smiling as she rinsed the plates of food.  But she didn't wash them.  That would simply have to wait until Kankuro wasn't trying to seduce her.
Akane grabbed a nearby dish towel and dried her hands.  Then she turned into Kankuro's arms, throwing the towel away and wrapping her arms around his neck.  Her eyes shone warmly up at him.  His mouth formed an irresistible grin and he leaned in to kiss her.  Slowly, delicately.
"Kankuro…" she sighed, and he dragged her closer, hands burning through the thin layer of her clothes.  The sound she made, all breathless and wanting, left Kankuro desperate.  He kissed her harder, lips moving in a sudden fierceness that didn't fully add up to the romantic atmosphere of the room.  Akane tangled her fingers in his hair and laughed a little, shattering the faux hard passion that Kankuro was beginning to work up.  He narrowed his eyes at her.
"I want you slow tonight," she told him, as though in explanation.  Slow and passionate and teasing.  She was in the mood for gentle caresses, for romantic touches and kisses that whispered out in lighthearted delight.  And Kankuro sighed, because he didn't particularly care how he took her, only that he needed to have her.  Needed to feel full and satiated and alive, and knew that the only way to feel those things would be burying himself into her.  Kankuro shrugged, "Fine."  And then he jerked her into the air, tossing her over his shoulder and turning to the bedroom.
Whatever constituted for slow and romantic, it certainly wasn't being lugged off to the bedroom like a sack of potatoes.  But Akane knew that it was sometimes hard for Kankuro to submit willingly to those kinds of feelings.  He'd never known the love of a mother, or even that of a father.  Growing up, his emotions had been cold, arrogant, and it wasn’t until Gaara started to change that he did, too.  So she didn't really complain, and when she was thrown rather roughly onto the mattress, Akane could only lay there, watching Kankuro curiously to see what his next move would be.
She wasn't disappointed.  Though Kankuro had only recently allowed warm emotions through his exterior, he'd always understood the more primal, animalistic tendencies of sex.  Akane didn't usually like to think of how he was before their relationship, but Kankuro had been something of a lady killer.  The term made her smile a little bit, and Kankuro glanced at her as he pulled her to the edge of the mattress.
"What?" he asked, casually hooking his fingers beneath her socks and pulling them off.  Her short kimono was simple to remove, but Kankuro seemed as though he wanted to take his time.  He continued at a slow pace, rubbing his fingers over her legs lightly as he waited for her to reply.
She just shrugged, throwing her arms over her head as she watched him through narrow, calculating eyes.  "Nothing~" and the quick way she dismissed him made his interest spark, just as she knew it would.  His eyes flashed and he dragged her farther to the edge, so that her core was pressed diligently to his leg.  She merely raised an eyebrow.
"Tell me," he said, voice dark, eyes locked with hers.  His fingers tumbled down her legs, pushing her kimono up to her hips and then tracing the edge of her panties.  White lace, seemingly innocent, one of Kankuro's favorites.  He wondered if she'd planned this out, or just picked them at random.  From the look in her eye, he opted for the former.
She laughed a little and threw her legs around his waist, dragging her toward her.  "Oh fine.  I was remembering how people used to call you a lady killer."  She burst into laughter again, partly because of his semi horrified expression and partly because she knew what was going to happen next.  Kankuro scowled at her, cheeks blazing a soft red, and then thrummed his fingers over her, tickling her mercilessly.  Akane gasped and laughed harder, weakly trying to grasp his hands and failing utterly.
"S-stop, Kankuro!" she laughed, but he didn't.  He merely grinned and pressed on knee to the mattress, sinking his weight over her as his fingers flew faster.  His eyes glinted warmly at her, sparking something inside Akane as she peered up at him.  Something stark, something blind, something that had little to do with lust and yet edged on it, intertwined just a little bit so that the lines became blurred and heady.
And then he suddenly stopped, suddenly threw his weight into his elbow as he hovered above her head.  His lips sought hers and he kissed her with that starkness, that blindness that didn't truly make sense.  And yet it was understood as easily as breathing, or kissing, or loving.
"Kankuro…" she murmured, and this time, his name was bathed in love, the soft, gentle kind that made the heart pound fervently.  Her hands drifted up to palm his cheeks.  "I can't wait to marry you," she told him, and this too was soft and gentle, and made his heart pound and his body ache and his reality brighten.  He swallowed thickly and sighed, kissing her again, pouring his love into his movements rather then into his voice.
And then he was roughly tugging at the tie that held her kimono up and was burying his hands against her skin, warm and real and alive.  He pulled her up and she shifted her weight onto her elbows, allowing him to drag her kimono from her shoulders and off her arms entirely, so that it was only a pillow for them to lay.
The sight that she made, laying beneath him in her matching white lingerie, was almost too much for him to take.  He wanted to tear that bra and those panties away and take her fiercely, roughly, quell the burning need that had festered within him all day long.  But he also wanted to cherish her, caress her, love her gently, bare his soul for her to see and judge and accept.
Akane drifted her hands down his chest, fingering the hem of his shirt and then slipping her hands beneath it.  The hard muscles beneath his skin called out to her, making her want to melt against them, kiss them, lick them.  Her legs tightened around his waist and he looked down at her.  The next moment, he was allowing her to roll him onto his back and take her place above him.
His shirt came off quickly and was replaced by her lavish attention.  She loved his chest, loved the hardness of his muscles, loved the fact that she felt completely safe around him.  Like he was her castle, a wall between her and those who wished to hurt her. 
Her lips moved down his chest, tongue flicking out to lick over his nipple, to trace the edge of his pectorals.  Kankuro watched in blind fascination as she went, eyes sharply taking in every detail of her touch, of the way her fingers curled over him.  And when she reached the hem of his pants, he could only lay there and watch as she slowly undid the fastenings.
"Help me," she told him, smiling cheekily up at him.  Kankuro grumbled but obeyed, because he wanted his pants off just as much as she did.  His arousal was so hard now that it almost hurt, straining against his jeans like it was.  So when he helped her shuffled the offending fabric off his body, along with his boxers, Kankuro nearly heaved a sigh of relief.
"That's better," Akane murmured, looking down at his hardened shaft as it sprung into the air.  He was a lot harder than she'd anticipated, but that only made things more interesting.  She lazily touched him, drawing gently fingers up and down in the barest of ways.  Kankuro gritted his teeth and slid his hands over her hips, growling out a short, "Come here."  To which she ignored, wholeheartedly.
Kankuro didn't like being ignored.  And he didn't like being made light of.  With a fierce growl, he was rolling them back over, taking his place above her once more.  He knew of only two things in that moment.  One, that if he didn't take that white lingerie off her, he'd die.  Two, he wasn't going to be able to go slow tonight, not now.  He wanted to fuck her hard and fast, till moving was out of the question, till her voice was raw from screaming his name.  And nothing she could say would make it easier for her.
But, not completely surprisingly, Akane had no interest in making things easier for herself.  She was quite happy with where things were going.  Though, at first, the thought of a nice, romantic evening appealed to her, her thoughts on the matter had changed significantly.  Such things happened when she had Kankuro for a lover.  So she just lay there, waiting, watching, smiling coyly.
Kankuro wasted no time at all in removing her bra.  Unclipping it was annoying and went over his head entirely, so he ended up just grabbing the cups and jerking it over her head in one fluid motion.  Akane smirked a little, somehow feeling her arousal spark at the show of impatient dominance.  And then Kankuro was ripping her panties off her legs and throwing them to the floor behind him.  His eyes crashed against hers and she swallowed thickly as his gaze slowly lowered and he looked at her. 
It wasn't like this was the first time he'd seen her naked, but there was something in his eyes that made the moment seem important.  Akane had no idea what it was, only she knew it was there, lurking just beneath the surface.  It felt like he was trying to memorize her.
"Kankuro?" she wondered, and his eyes lazily returned to hers.  He hummed and moved, lowering himself to her level.  Her eyes flashed as his member brushed against her core, but he didn't do anything else.  He just stared at her expectantly, one brow raised.  She sighed.  "Really?  You're really gonna make me say it?"
Because she couldn't think of any other reason why he wasn't fucking her silly right about now.  Kankuro grinned voraciously and shrugged.  "If you would," he told her casually, languidly, and she rolled her eyes.  "…Please fuck me, oh great lady killer," she mumbled, and he frowned at her.
"Don’t call me that," he told her, and eased his tip into her opening.  But he wouldn't push all the way in.  "Now say it properly," he smirked, hands roughly holding her hips down as she tried to find a way around his order.  It wasn't fair, she scowled.
A sigh, a twitch of her eye, and, "Please take me, Kankuro-sama."  And Kankuro raised an eyebrow and nodded.
"Alright.  But next time, lose the 'sama'.  Makes me sound old," he mused, and Akane glared at him.  "Just fuck me, Kan-oh!"  Her back arched vividly as he roughly tore into her, hilting himself completely inside before tearing back out and doing it again, and again, until Akane could hardly even breathe.
"Ohhh, yes," she moaned, nails digging into his arms as he hovered above her.  "Th-that's much…better…"  she cried out again when Kankuro lowered his mouth to her breast and sucked.  And she knew that it wouldn't take her very long at all.
Kankuro chuckled darkly, tongue flickering over her sensitive skin.  The force of his thrusts made her entire world fluctuate.  She moaned loudly and dragged him closer, legs tightening their hold on his waist.  It felt so good, so very good.
"Kankuro!" she cried, arching her back again.  He made her feel so alive, so loved, so wanted.  She gathered him into her arms and he kissed her lips before moving to bury his face into her neck.  He gasped against her, ramming his cock so deeply into her that Akane was sure she'd get bruises all over her lower body.  But she didn't care, didn't care at all.  She didn't feel the pain of their colliding hips.  She only felt pleasure, pleasure so bright and so lively that it swallowed her entire world, transformed it into an array of shattered emotion.
"I'm gonna come," he gasped against her, and gritted his teeth fiercely.  He couldn't come before her, he couldn't.  But already he was feeling his orgasm tear through him and he couldn't possibly stop it.  Akane moaned again.  "'S alright, j-just come, Kan…Kankuro…"  and that was the last straw.  The sound of his voice, so shaky, so breathless, was what made him spill himself into her like an adolescent schoolboy.
He came with a wild moan, tossing his head into the air and thrumming his hips harshly against hers.  And the sight of him finding his release made her own orgasm imminent.  Akane rolled him over, pushing him onto his back and impaling herself on him, again and again as she came.  Her end was dazzling and blinding, and Kankuro watched her through half lidded eyes as she cried out and clutched at him.
It was perfect, flawless, and it made him feel so alive, so lucky to have her.  Kankuro watched her until she was completely spent, until her hips stopped pounding against his, and then he eased them farther up the mattress and she collapsed on him, still connected.
He tucked her against him as they panted, waiting for their worlds to stop spinning, waiting for reality to set in again.  And when it did, soft and splendid, Akane murmured a very gentle, "I love you, Kankuro."  And his arms squeezed her tightly to him, as though he was loath to let her go, give her up. 
He buried his face against her hair and whispered the words he rarely uttered, but felt every moment of every day, in her presence or out of it.  And she smiled giddily as he did, feeling her heart burst pleasantly.   


A Laxus Dreyar Lemon -- Remember

Character: Laxus Dreyar

Fandom: Fairy Tail

OC: Anya, small, only lets Laxus call her 'shortie', otherwise gets angry~

Inspiration: Laxus is hot.  That's all, really.  

The morning began normally enough.  Anya awoke in her bed, sheets mussed up over her body, limbs sprawled out haphazardly in the hot, sticky weather.  Like a cat, like a lazy, napping feline.  She opened her eyes as everything was still normal.  Her clothes were strewn on the floor.  Her door was closed.  And then she yawned, tossed her arms over her head, and stretched.  And that was when Anya realized that everything, in fact, was not normal.
"Che.  You're awake already?" a voice casually wondered, and Anya twitched, frowned, and turned her head to look at the man who lay beside her.  Laxus was sprawled out in her bed as though he owned the place, one arm beneath his head, the other resting on his stomach as he watched her from the corner of his eye. 
Her cheeks turned pink and she drew the sheets up to her neck, making a noise and turning away from him.  "I forgot about you…" she mumbled, burying her embarrassment into the warm skin of her arm as she rolled onto her side.  Her words seems to spark something within Laxus, because not long after, he was also rolling over.  His arm tucked around her waist and he heaved her closer, like she was just a ragdoll.
"Hmm?  You forgot about me?" he wondered, trying to get a glance at her eyes.  But they were closed and almost the entirety of her face was hidden from his view.  He scoffed and muttered something about 'crazy females' and how she could 'forget about last night'.  Which only made her blush harder.
"How'd you forget, anyway?  Not like you were drinking," he muttered, hand drifting over her hip to tuck around her thigh.  His thumb brushed lazy circles into her skin and she peeked at him from between her fingers.  He caught her eye with a raised brow.
Then, she sighed and mumbled, "I didn't…really forget…"  Jesus.  How could she possible forget about being with Laxus?  She'd admit that the moment she woke up she was confused, but then Anya began to remember slivers of the night before.  And then more slivers.  Until her entire mind and body were reliving the tremendous experience of being loved by Laxus.
"Oh?" he wondered, and she could tell that he was smirking.  She tensed a little as he pushed her gently onto her back.  His hand enveloped almost her entire stomach as he touched her, dragging rough fingertips over what was once crisp white sheets.  "So you do remember?" he asked, eyes flashing down at her as he leaned nearer.  His leg shifted between hers under the sheets, skin flushed against skin.  She curled her fingers around the edges of the sheet like she was holding onto it for dear life.
"So then you remember when I touched you here?" he breathed into her neck, his hand coming up to slide around the slender, small curve of her breast.  She shivered almost violently, eyes tightly closed.  Though the sheet still created something of a barrier between their skin, it still felt powerful and intense to have him touch her like that.  She bite her lip as his thumb rolled over her nipple.
His lips careened over her skin, just barely touching it.  His breath was hot and fanned over her like a wave, soaking up all her embarrassment and throwing it away.  There was no need to be embarrassed, Anya knew.  After last night, and the moments before, Anya didn't have to be scared around Laxus.  But she was.  Not because he was so powerful, or that he could take her out with a single throw of his fist, but because the feelings that wove around her own heart were so intense that they almost frightened her.  She couldn't ever recall loving a person so much, never.
"And," he almost growled, voice so low that it was almost dark, almost animalistic.  She swallowed as his lips pressed against her neck.  "You remember when I kissed you here?"  Then, rougher, like fire.  Like water.  Like everything the was extreme and passionate and needy.  She gasped as his tongue flicked out to taste her skin, her fingers flying from the sheets to grasp at his shoulders instead.  And that was when Laxus knew that it was time.  Time to completely shed that silly but endearing embarrassment.
He growled and tore away, pressing his forehead against hers.  His hand curled around the edge of the sheet and he murmured, "Look at me, Anya."  And when she didn't immediately obey, he breathed out again, "Look at me."
And she did.  Of course she did.  She couldn't ignore him, not when his voice was on the very edge of pleading, not when she wanted to obey him so very much.  Her eyes slowly slid open and she almost gasped aloud at the sight that Laxus made, towering above her, eyes open and honest.  She looked at him and saw stars, and a future, and the rest of her life.  She looked at him and saw truth.
He kissed her then and it felt like heaven.  And she hurriedly pulled him closer, arms straining around his neck, fingers digging into his hair.  His hands tore away the sheet and then reached behind her, dragging her body nearly into the air and pressing her breasts against his skin.  She gasped and then moaned, throwing a leg over his sliding bare skin against bare skin and melting at the sinful friction it created.
It was as though everything was suddenly free.  All their emotions, all their restraints were thrown into the air, tossed away.  Passion replaced them, deep and sorrowful and brilliant.
"Laxus," she moaned, when his hand roughly rolled her breast.  He pushed her into the mattress and then heaved her leg up higher, locking it around his waist.  The new position gave him more room, and soon he was pushing his lower body against hers and she was gasping louder, kissing him fiercer, as though the very world would end if their passion couldn't be seen through.
He nipped at her lip and growled, "Say my name again."  Because it sounded so erotic, so wicked on her lips and he wanted more, much more.  Already he was hard.  His erection strained against her and he wanted nothing more than to bury himself deep within her.  He panted into their kiss and almost moaned out loud when she acquiesced to his desire.  "Laxus!" 
And then she went farther, whispering more.  "I want to remember better, Laxus!"  Remember the exact way his body felt inside hers, remember the smooth, hard contours of his manhood, and the way he pinned her down with one hand as he took her.  She looked into his eyes and he couldn't deny her this.  Couldn't possibly say no to her.
So he didn't.  He lined himself up and was sliding into her a moment later, without hardly any warning or anything.  But she didn't need a warning and she'd made that perfectly clear.  He pushed himself completely in with a single, harsh shove and her back came off the mattress, arching into a semi circle.  The intensity of being one with Laxus was overwhelming and complex, and yet so, so simple.
He moved, then, with that unbridled power that often made Anya crazy with lust.  She cried out and grabbed onto him, digging her nails into his arm, his shoulder, and then sliding down his back to drag him closer.  He thrust into her slowly, at first, but with such an intense build of speed that Anya felt like she was going to come a thousand times before she actually did.
She gasped and threw her legs around his waist, locking her ankles and forcing him to take her faster, harder.  In response, he chuckled, his voice low and husky as it drifted by her ear.  His fingers roughly caressed her side, her waist, her breast.  "I'm gonna fuck you till you can't stand…" he promised, and Anya could only whimper, plea, moan as he rammed his cock deeper and faster within her.
"O-Oh…God, L-Lax…Laxus…!" she moaned, her voice almost a cry, almost a yell.  He was dragging her toward her orgasm faster than she'd ever gone before.  She was hurtling towards it at a pace that didn't even seem human, didn't seem possible.  But it was and her orgasm was already coiling around her, within her, tightening her up.  And he could feel it, that tightness, and the tense way her body retracted in on itself.  And it made him want to come, too.
"D-Damn it!" he growled, throwing his head back.  His hips pinned hers completely to the mattress, his thrusts growing every more rapid as he enforced his passion upon her.  And she swallowed it up with everything she had, clutching her to her chest as she was thrown over the edge of emotion, of reason itself.
"Oh!" she cried, hips suddenly thrusting back into his as a wild array of blind desire grasped at her.  She came with a hard, fierce yell, pulling Laxus down after her.  He followed nearly simultaneously, hips snapping roughly against hers, eyes locked, lips hovering barely centimeters away from one another.  And then, when he was finally spilling himself into her, his lips crashed against hers and he kissed her with the remnants of that hard passion.
His hips moved slower after that.  Anya panted fiercely beneath him, barely able to return his kisses after that tremendous workout.  Being with Laxus always tore her down into her rawest form, but it built her back up as a stronger person.  Her chest heaved and Laxus pulled away from her, taking a long moment before finally separating his lower body from hers.  She let out a sort of whimper that made his eyes flash and he kissed her again.  Once, twice, three times, before he sighed heavily and then collapsed on her body, nuzzling his head between her breasts and thoroughly giving up on the world.
She blinked.  "Hey…Laxus.  Laxus?"  She peered down at him and raised a surprised eyebrow.  "Jeez…are you sleeping?"  When he didn't answer, Anya sighed again and threw her head back, closing her eyes as well.  His arm squeezed her waist and she smiled.  She gently tangling her fingers into his hair and allowed sleep to take her.