Flash Fiction (Take Seven - Part Two)
Feb. 13th, 2011 11:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22a/n: Three more flash pieces today! Again, a general warning for the fact they are unbeta'ed.
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
yamitoyoru
Prompt: Stark/Szayel or Gin/Ichi
Ichigo and Gin are characters from the anime/manga Bleach by Tite Kubo. This fic is set in my Minutes to Midnight universe. Warnings for nudity, mild slashy porn, NSFW
For mistress_pirate
Prompt: Tatsuki/Soifon, candy hearts
Tatsuki and Soifon are characters from the anime/manga Bleach by Tite Kubo. Warnings for a kiss between two women and general fluffiness.
For cancerheart69
Prompt: ZellxSeifer, “Mmm, tastes like chicken”
Zell and Seifer are from the video game Final Fantasy VIII owned by Square-Enix. Warnings here for mild cursing and some slashy kisses.
For
yamitoyoru Prompt: Stark/Szayel or Gin/Ichi
Ichigo and Gin are characters from the anime/manga Bleach by Tite Kubo. This fic is set in my Minutes to Midnight universe. Warnings for nudity, mild slashy porn, NSFW
Ichigo is a virgin. Gin might as well be one. That probably explains why this feels so awkward. And it's the awkwardness that bothers Gin because this sort of thing should come naturally. But then, he supposes without experience, there's only so much he and Ichigo can figure out, despite the literature and videos and unwanted advice Urahara-san had thrust upon them.
Ichigo's blushing; Gin's face is probably scarlet to match. But anticipation also hangs in the air, twisting like tension, in Gin's gut, in his groin. He's been hard in his hakama for the past twenty minutes. He loves the way Ichigo tastes when they kiss. He loves the boldness of Ichigo's wandering fingers. He's more than ready to see Ichigo stripped of his white uniform.
Gin's only experience is a disastrous night he'd rather forget. He doesn't want that to happen here. It helps that Ichigo wants him, it helps that feelings are mutual.
It helps that Ichigo is coming toward him with that look in his eyes, one that speaks volumes without words. And now is Gin's turn to be the one with the knowledge.
Ichigo's blush is deepening as Gin reaches for him, draws them together for a deep kiss that tangles their tongues. Ichigo tastes like cream and chocolate, he feels warm and silky under Gin's fingers as the former Shinigami cups his head and tracks fingers through the hair at the nape of Ichigo's neck.
His heart is thudding in his chest at a mile a minute and he knows Ichigo's must be acting the same.
Hands reach for Gin's clothing, one tugging insistently at his obi. Ichigo nips at Gin's lips, his hands diving into Gin's overrobe as he strips the obi away and tosses it to the side. Gin loves his aggressiveness, loves his bravado. Loves him truthfully, but perhaps it'll be a while yet before Gin can say so aloud.
“I...” Ichigo starts, stutters, turns a furious scarlet. “I don't know how to make this sexy,” he admits, tugging at Gin's clothing in an effort to remove them.
If there is a god, Gin thanks him in that moment. Ichigo is nothing like Rangiku, nothing like that one disastrous night, and Gin is glad for it.
“It doesn't have ta be,” he purrs as his shitagi slides from his shoulders to the floor. “The sex part comes after. Or durin' if ya really want it that way.”
“Pervert,” Ichigo says, but it's affectionate, and he doesn't resist when Gin drags him in for a kiss, hands roaming to strip the Vizard out of his clothing with quick, efficient motions of his hands. Best not to let Ichigo make every first move after all.
Ichigo's blushing; Gin's face is probably scarlet to match. But anticipation also hangs in the air, twisting like tension, in Gin's gut, in his groin. He's been hard in his hakama for the past twenty minutes. He loves the way Ichigo tastes when they kiss. He loves the boldness of Ichigo's wandering fingers. He's more than ready to see Ichigo stripped of his white uniform.
Gin's only experience is a disastrous night he'd rather forget. He doesn't want that to happen here. It helps that Ichigo wants him, it helps that feelings are mutual.
It helps that Ichigo is coming toward him with that look in his eyes, one that speaks volumes without words. And now is Gin's turn to be the one with the knowledge.
Ichigo's blush is deepening as Gin reaches for him, draws them together for a deep kiss that tangles their tongues. Ichigo tastes like cream and chocolate, he feels warm and silky under Gin's fingers as the former Shinigami cups his head and tracks fingers through the hair at the nape of Ichigo's neck.
His heart is thudding in his chest at a mile a minute and he knows Ichigo's must be acting the same.
Hands reach for Gin's clothing, one tugging insistently at his obi. Ichigo nips at Gin's lips, his hands diving into Gin's overrobe as he strips the obi away and tosses it to the side. Gin loves his aggressiveness, loves his bravado. Loves him truthfully, but perhaps it'll be a while yet before Gin can say so aloud.
“I...” Ichigo starts, stutters, turns a furious scarlet. “I don't know how to make this sexy,” he admits, tugging at Gin's clothing in an effort to remove them.
If there is a god, Gin thanks him in that moment. Ichigo is nothing like Rangiku, nothing like that one disastrous night, and Gin is glad for it.
“It doesn't have ta be,” he purrs as his shitagi slides from his shoulders to the floor. “The sex part comes after. Or durin' if ya really want it that way.”
“Pervert,” Ichigo says, but it's affectionate, and he doesn't resist when Gin drags him in for a kiss, hands roaming to strip the Vizard out of his clothing with quick, efficient motions of his hands. Best not to let Ichigo make every first move after all.
mistress_pirate Prompt: Tatsuki/Soifon, candy hearts
Tatsuki and Soifon are characters from the anime/manga Bleach by Tite Kubo. Warnings for a kiss between two women and general fluffiness.
“What are these?”
Tatsuki can barely hide her chuckle or her amusement. The disdain on Soifon's face seems better reserved for a mortal enemy or a pile of dog crap as opposed to the basket of Valentine's Day goodies that Tatsuki has thrust in her direction.
“There's this little thing in the Living World that we call Valentine's Day,” Tatsuki says, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “You know, you really should get out more. You might even enjoy it.”
Soifon scowls at her, but doesn't stop peering into the basket, one finger poking through the various gaudily wrapped packages as though they might jump out and bite her. “I've no need for human celebrations,” she says with a sneer, but she takes out a folded piece of paper anyway, cheeks darkening at the heartfelt message printed on the front.
Tatsuki reaches into the basket, pulling out a small box of candies that rattles as she rips it open and tips them into Soifon's free hand. “These are my favorite,” she says cheerfully. “They are cheap and taste like chalk but for some reason, everyone loves them.”
Soifon's nose wrinkles up in that adorable way that Tatuski love, a wrinkle that declares annoyance and death and actually shows just how touched she is but won't admit it.
“Be mine,” she reads aloud, tone utterly avoid of inflection as her eyes roam over the little candy hearts sitting on her palm. “Kiss me.”
Is that an invitation? Why yes, Tatsuki thinks it is!
She leans forward just as Soifon is reading “My girl” and captures her lover's lips in a sweet, sultry kiss. Soifon makes an mmmph noise against her mouth, but doesn't protest, just jabs her tongue into Tatsuki's mouth in an attempt to take control of the kiss as she always does. She tastes sweet, like the chocolate Tatsuki shoved into her mouth before handing over the chocolate.
“Don't mind if I do,” Tatsuki purrs in a brief lull in their kiss, licking her lips pointedly. “Isn't that the point?”
Soifon glares in a lovely mix of aroused demand and annoyed bluster. “You are an idiot,” she declares, but Tatsuki knows different. What she really means is I love you. She just doesn't know how to say it yet.
Tatuski chuckles. “That may be true, but you love me anyway,” she says, and captures Soifon's lips before her lover can declare otherwise. She just loves keeping Soifon on her toes. That astonished blush is the cutest thing ever.
Tatsuki can barely hide her chuckle or her amusement. The disdain on Soifon's face seems better reserved for a mortal enemy or a pile of dog crap as opposed to the basket of Valentine's Day goodies that Tatsuki has thrust in her direction.
“There's this little thing in the Living World that we call Valentine's Day,” Tatsuki says, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “You know, you really should get out more. You might even enjoy it.”
Soifon scowls at her, but doesn't stop peering into the basket, one finger poking through the various gaudily wrapped packages as though they might jump out and bite her. “I've no need for human celebrations,” she says with a sneer, but she takes out a folded piece of paper anyway, cheeks darkening at the heartfelt message printed on the front.
Tatsuki reaches into the basket, pulling out a small box of candies that rattles as she rips it open and tips them into Soifon's free hand. “These are my favorite,” she says cheerfully. “They are cheap and taste like chalk but for some reason, everyone loves them.”
Soifon's nose wrinkles up in that adorable way that Tatuski love, a wrinkle that declares annoyance and death and actually shows just how touched she is but won't admit it.
“Be mine,” she reads aloud, tone utterly avoid of inflection as her eyes roam over the little candy hearts sitting on her palm. “Kiss me.”
Is that an invitation? Why yes, Tatsuki thinks it is!
She leans forward just as Soifon is reading “My girl” and captures her lover's lips in a sweet, sultry kiss. Soifon makes an mmmph noise against her mouth, but doesn't protest, just jabs her tongue into Tatsuki's mouth in an attempt to take control of the kiss as she always does. She tastes sweet, like the chocolate Tatsuki shoved into her mouth before handing over the chocolate.
“Don't mind if I do,” Tatsuki purrs in a brief lull in their kiss, licking her lips pointedly. “Isn't that the point?”
Soifon glares in a lovely mix of aroused demand and annoyed bluster. “You are an idiot,” she declares, but Tatsuki knows different. What she really means is I love you. She just doesn't know how to say it yet.
Tatuski chuckles. “That may be true, but you love me anyway,” she says, and captures Soifon's lips before her lover can declare otherwise. She just loves keeping Soifon on her toes. That astonished blush is the cutest thing ever.
Prompt: ZellxSeifer, “Mmm, tastes like chicken”
Zell and Seifer are from the video game Final Fantasy VIII owned by Square-Enix. Warnings here for mild cursing and some slashy kisses.
Dodge. Kick. Spin. Punch. Twice. There! Zell whirls, avoids the next powerful swing, and lashes out with his own fist, remembering at the last moment to pull his punch before he takes off Seifer's head. Though he wonders if that would be such a bad thing.
There's a smirk and then Seifer dodges at the last moment. Zell twists to keep his balance, as Seifer spins and grabs his arm. Zell hits the nearest wall with a harsh thud, back slamming against padded metal and then Seifer is there, grinning like he's a victor. He never did release Zell's arm, instead choosing to pin it to the wall above his head. It's cold against his back, a contrast to the heat exploding between them.
Zell lashes out with his other hand, body vibrating with restless energy. Seifer, taller bastard that he is, grabs Zell's wrist and pins it above his head too. He looms over Zell, smelling of sweat and his own special cologne, a victorious smirk on his lips and his green eyes gleaming.
“I thought you wanted a fight,” Zell demands, giving a token tug to his wrists. It would be easy enough to break Seifer's hold, there's a reason Zell's a martial artist, but he's kinda curious.
Seifer's lips curl. “There are different ways to battle,” he says, and leans forward, tongue dragging over his lips. There's a gleam in his eyes that Zell doesn't miss. “What do ya say, Chicken Wuss?”
Zell's eyes narrow, a growl peeling his lips back from his teeth. “You know I hate that!”
A tongue chooses that moment to lap up the side of his neck, over trickles of sweat. “Mmm,” Seifer says. “Tastes like chicken.”
Zell jerks. “Bastard,” he spits, and one leg snaps up, knee aiming for Seifer's inner thigh, where he knows it'll hurt.
But Seifer's too smart, sees it coming, turns his body so that Zell's blow misses. Too bad he's not seriously aiming to hurt Seifer, otherwise he'd succeed. Seifer better be glad Zell would rather have him with all the important bits intact.
“You know you love me anyway,” Seifer retorts, all too smug and full of himself. His lips move a hotter path and then teeth come into play, biting into Zell's neck with just enough pressure to make Zell's shorts tighten.
“Full of yourself,” Zell mutters, and arches toward Seifer, enjoying the knee that's pushed between his legs, something to provide a delicious friction.
Seifer chuckles. “You know it, Chickie. Now open up and let me in.”
a/n: Three more flash fics to come! I do hope you enjoyed these pieces!There's a smirk and then Seifer dodges at the last moment. Zell twists to keep his balance, as Seifer spins and grabs his arm. Zell hits the nearest wall with a harsh thud, back slamming against padded metal and then Seifer is there, grinning like he's a victor. He never did release Zell's arm, instead choosing to pin it to the wall above his head. It's cold against his back, a contrast to the heat exploding between them.
Zell lashes out with his other hand, body vibrating with restless energy. Seifer, taller bastard that he is, grabs Zell's wrist and pins it above his head too. He looms over Zell, smelling of sweat and his own special cologne, a victorious smirk on his lips and his green eyes gleaming.
“I thought you wanted a fight,” Zell demands, giving a token tug to his wrists. It would be easy enough to break Seifer's hold, there's a reason Zell's a martial artist, but he's kinda curious.
Seifer's lips curl. “There are different ways to battle,” he says, and leans forward, tongue dragging over his lips. There's a gleam in his eyes that Zell doesn't miss. “What do ya say, Chicken Wuss?”
Zell's eyes narrow, a growl peeling his lips back from his teeth. “You know I hate that!”
A tongue chooses that moment to lap up the side of his neck, over trickles of sweat. “Mmm,” Seifer says. “Tastes like chicken.”
Zell jerks. “Bastard,” he spits, and one leg snaps up, knee aiming for Seifer's inner thigh, where he knows it'll hurt.
But Seifer's too smart, sees it coming, turns his body so that Zell's blow misses. Too bad he's not seriously aiming to hurt Seifer, otherwise he'd succeed. Seifer better be glad Zell would rather have him with all the important bits intact.
“You know you love me anyway,” Seifer retorts, all too smug and full of himself. His lips move a hotter path and then teeth come into play, biting into Zell's neck with just enough pressure to make Zell's shorts tighten.
“Full of yourself,” Zell mutters, and arches toward Seifer, enjoying the knee that's pushed between his legs, something to provide a delicious friction.
Seifer chuckles. “You know it, Chickie. Now open up and let me in.”
