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dethoratsI just...wanted an excuse to write porn I think.
Prompt: Fireworks
Rating: PG15
Pairing: Zoro/Usopp/Zoro
Word Count: 439
The first time Usopp had sex there weren’t any fireworks. There wasn’t any pain either, just a touch of discomfort and a lot of embarrassed, self-conscious laughter on his part until Zoro decided kissing him was the best way to get him to shut up. Oh it wasn’t bad by any stretch of imagination either, far from it, but there wasn’t that moment that he’d heard about, read about in some of the romance novels he’d been bored enough to filch from Nami and Robin’s room. Sure he came and all, and it felt nice if kind of weird, and he’d felt good afterwards. But he’d had better orgasms from some of Zoro’s more inspired blowjobs and his hip had gotten a cramp halfway through from the angle it had been pinned in beneath Zoro’s weight. Still, it hadn’t been anything like what he’d feared, not at all like some of the jokes he heard in the dark and dingy bars Zoro liked to inhabit on shore leave. And he’d gladly do it again too…just…he had been ever so slightly disappointed.
A couple of times later, after Usopp had mostly gotten over his embarrassment at having someone else’s fingers “back there” and the sloppy noises that tended to occur when they were first getting started, he looked at Zoro one afternoon when they had stolen away for some private time and plucked the lube from the swordsman’s hand. Zoro glanced at him, then at the lube, and then back at his face. Usopp raised an eyebrow and Zoro shrugged, a faintly surprised grin starting to work its way across his face. The nerves came back, and just a touch of the embarrassment, but Zoro didn’t seem to mind, cocking his hip to the side to give Usopp more room as if the stretch didn’t bother his muscles in the slightest. And it probably didn’t, Usopp mused, thinking on the swordsman’s warm-up exercise routines and spreading plenty of lube over his erection. He paused long enough to lean over for a kiss as he positioned himself and then…then came the fireworks.
A far too short time later, Usopp grudgingly peeled himself free of the mess they’d made, flopping off to Zoro’s side and groping for the rag they’d learned to keep handy. He still didn’t quite have his breath back but he couldn’t help speaking as he passed the cloth over to the swordsman. “That was…that was…”
And when, after a pause that made Usopp’s stomach knot, Zoro came back with a smugly quiet “yeah,” the sniper knew he could look forward to a lot more fireworks in his future.
Prompt: Washing
Pairing: Skwisgaar/Murderface
A/N: Inferred possible squickiness
“Yous stink likes a wets dog what has been rollings in his owns shits!”
Skwisgaar’s outrage was clear, though nasal thanks to the fingers pinched over his nose. Murderface sneered and took a menacing step closer, his footfall all the more ominous for the jingling coming from his undone boot buckles.
“Scho? Whatscha gonna do about it, princessch?”
And for the final thrown gauntlet Murderface pulled a double whammy, lifting up an arm to scratch at his sweaty armpit and expelling some bean-inspired flatulence at the same time. A klokateer nearby gagged and fainted and Skwisgaar’s face crinkled in disgust.
“I is goings to be givings yous a baths. NOW.”
Despite how vile it was, strong hands clamped over Murderface’s wrists, locked his arms behind his back. The cursing, spitting bassist was frog-marched to the Swede’s pristine rooms and hurled into Skwisgaar’s gleaming bathroom. His head banged off the commode, Murderface not trying to dodge it, and when he finally sat back up, matching scarlet trails marked his temple and the formerly clean porcelain.
Skwisgaar clucked his tongue but locked the door behind them anyway before he knelt down next to the bassist to rummage beneath his sink. Armed with gloves, scrub brushes, soaps, shampoos, and even a delousing agent, he attacked the reeking problem that was Murderface, removing food-stained clothing and reluctantly tackling the toxic waste sites that were the bassist’s boots. Then, with Murderface naked and mostly docile, the guitarist turned on his shower and shrugged out of his own clothes.
Hot water pelted them, swirled in dirty spirals down the drain. Skwisgaar kept himself busy, liberally dousing Murderface in all sorts of concoctions meant to remove his stench and his dirt and expose what lay beneath his coating of filth. The bassist met the indignity with petulance and an occasional curse but he lifted his arms as directed and ran a small soapy brush between his toes when the smell proved too overpowering for Skwisgaar. Finally, when the conditioner had been applied to Murderface’s tangled mat of hair to do its best, the Swede screwed on a new attachment to the showerhead and passed it over.
“Turn around.”
The command was firm but without malice and Skwisgaar nodded and obeyed, only sneaking a glance when he heard Murderface step out to flush the toilet. The shower was turned on full force, heat steaming the air, and Murderface placed his hands on the walls, bending his head as Skwisgaar rinsed out the conditioner. And then, having been cleaned to the Swede’s fastidious standards, Skwisgaar proceeded to make Murderface dirty again. Harsh panting breaths and grunts and moans echoed on the tiles and finally Skwisgaar took off his gloves and wrapped a hand around the bassist’s calloused dick. Afterwards, a fresh bathrobe wrapped around his pudgy form, Murderface stole a kiss and then gave Skwisgaar the finger before he left. The guitarist just shook his head. Soon enough the bassist would need another bath and then he’d be back.
Prompt: Fireworks
Rating: PG15
Pairing: Zoro/Usopp/Zoro
Word Count: 439
The first time Usopp had sex there weren’t any fireworks. There wasn’t any pain either, just a touch of discomfort and a lot of embarrassed, self-conscious laughter on his part until Zoro decided kissing him was the best way to get him to shut up. Oh it wasn’t bad by any stretch of imagination either, far from it, but there wasn’t that moment that he’d heard about, read about in some of the romance novels he’d been bored enough to filch from Nami and Robin’s room. Sure he came and all, and it felt nice if kind of weird, and he’d felt good afterwards. But he’d had better orgasms from some of Zoro’s more inspired blowjobs and his hip had gotten a cramp halfway through from the angle it had been pinned in beneath Zoro’s weight. Still, it hadn’t been anything like what he’d feared, not at all like some of the jokes he heard in the dark and dingy bars Zoro liked to inhabit on shore leave. And he’d gladly do it again too…just…he had been ever so slightly disappointed.
A couple of times later, after Usopp had mostly gotten over his embarrassment at having someone else’s fingers “back there” and the sloppy noises that tended to occur when they were first getting started, he looked at Zoro one afternoon when they had stolen away for some private time and plucked the lube from the swordsman’s hand. Zoro glanced at him, then at the lube, and then back at his face. Usopp raised an eyebrow and Zoro shrugged, a faintly surprised grin starting to work its way across his face. The nerves came back, and just a touch of the embarrassment, but Zoro didn’t seem to mind, cocking his hip to the side to give Usopp more room as if the stretch didn’t bother his muscles in the slightest. And it probably didn’t, Usopp mused, thinking on the swordsman’s warm-up exercise routines and spreading plenty of lube over his erection. He paused long enough to lean over for a kiss as he positioned himself and then…then came the fireworks.
A far too short time later, Usopp grudgingly peeled himself free of the mess they’d made, flopping off to Zoro’s side and groping for the rag they’d learned to keep handy. He still didn’t quite have his breath back but he couldn’t help speaking as he passed the cloth over to the swordsman. “That was…that was…”
And when, after a pause that made Usopp’s stomach knot, Zoro came back with a smugly quiet “yeah,” the sniper knew he could look forward to a lot more fireworks in his future.
Prompt: Washing
Pairing: Skwisgaar/Murderface
A/N: Inferred possible squickiness
“Yous stink likes a wets dog what has been rollings in his owns shits!”
Skwisgaar’s outrage was clear, though nasal thanks to the fingers pinched over his nose. Murderface sneered and took a menacing step closer, his footfall all the more ominous for the jingling coming from his undone boot buckles.
“Scho? Whatscha gonna do about it, princessch?”
And for the final thrown gauntlet Murderface pulled a double whammy, lifting up an arm to scratch at his sweaty armpit and expelling some bean-inspired flatulence at the same time. A klokateer nearby gagged and fainted and Skwisgaar’s face crinkled in disgust.
“I is goings to be givings yous a baths. NOW.”
Despite how vile it was, strong hands clamped over Murderface’s wrists, locked his arms behind his back. The cursing, spitting bassist was frog-marched to the Swede’s pristine rooms and hurled into Skwisgaar’s gleaming bathroom. His head banged off the commode, Murderface not trying to dodge it, and when he finally sat back up, matching scarlet trails marked his temple and the formerly clean porcelain.
Skwisgaar clucked his tongue but locked the door behind them anyway before he knelt down next to the bassist to rummage beneath his sink. Armed with gloves, scrub brushes, soaps, shampoos, and even a delousing agent, he attacked the reeking problem that was Murderface, removing food-stained clothing and reluctantly tackling the toxic waste sites that were the bassist’s boots. Then, with Murderface naked and mostly docile, the guitarist turned on his shower and shrugged out of his own clothes.
Hot water pelted them, swirled in dirty spirals down the drain. Skwisgaar kept himself busy, liberally dousing Murderface in all sorts of concoctions meant to remove his stench and his dirt and expose what lay beneath his coating of filth. The bassist met the indignity with petulance and an occasional curse but he lifted his arms as directed and ran a small soapy brush between his toes when the smell proved too overpowering for Skwisgaar. Finally, when the conditioner had been applied to Murderface’s tangled mat of hair to do its best, the Swede screwed on a new attachment to the showerhead and passed it over.
“Turn around.”
The command was firm but without malice and Skwisgaar nodded and obeyed, only sneaking a glance when he heard Murderface step out to flush the toilet. The shower was turned on full force, heat steaming the air, and Murderface placed his hands on the walls, bending his head as Skwisgaar rinsed out the conditioner. And then, having been cleaned to the Swede’s fastidious standards, Skwisgaar proceeded to make Murderface dirty again. Harsh panting breaths and grunts and moans echoed on the tiles and finally Skwisgaar took off his gloves and wrapped a hand around the bassist’s calloused dick. Afterwards, a fresh bathrobe wrapped around his pudgy form, Murderface stole a kiss and then gave Skwisgaar the finger before he left. The guitarist just shook his head. Soon enough the bassist would need another bath and then he’d be back.
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no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 04:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 07:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 07:10 pm (UTC)(Btw, I am so so glad the doujinshi got to you safely. The PO has been eating packages this year. >_< Also, Makino/Nojiko for you en la manana!)
no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 07:38 am (UTC)XD And Usopp's always a dork. It's one of his better qualities.
no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 06:15 pm (UTC)QUOTE OF THE WEEK. Seriously, I think that should be a tagline somewhere.
no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 06:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-20 10:32 am (UTC)XD Me too. Maybe too much.