Twenty Five Encounters
folder
+S to Z › Samurai Deeper Kyo
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,969
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+S to Z › Samurai Deeper Kyo
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,969
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Samurai Deeper Kyo, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Wound Wrong
Title: Wound Wrong
Fandom: Samurai Deeper Kyo
Pairing: AkiraxHotaru, kinda but not really hint of one sided Hotaru/Shinrei
Rating: R for strong innuendos, hinting at oral sex, ect.
Length: 476 words
Summary: Hotaru just got what he wanted from Akira, only he's not sure if he really wanted it or what happened.
Disclaimer: I do not own the series or these characters. The list of pairings can be found here: http://silver-magess.livejournal.com/164999.html
Note that I'm not going in order either.
There was something wrong with him. Actually, if Hotaru paused for a moment to think, he would realize that he had always been a little wrong. But this was a completely different wrong. He had just had his evil, twisted way with Akira. Well, it wasn't as if Akira had protested. Not much. Nor had he tried to freeze or slice up Hotaru, a sure sign that it hadn't been anything close to rape. Though, Hotaru kind of wished that he had been lying there, drowning in his own blood.
Instead, Akira had kissed him back with all the force of someone who was far from naïve, far from innocent. He told Hotaru where to touch him, nothing like that little brat who made faces at the slightest mention of sex. It was so wrong, even though it had felt better than anything Hotaru had experienced in years. To the point where it was obvious that Akira was far more experienced that he was, which had almost dampened the mood, until Akira twisted his hands into Hotaru's hair and yanked his head downwards. From there, things had gone into flurry of raw, mindless sex, the kind that a lady's pillow book could only hint at.
Yet, he still wanted to resist those thoughts. He didn’t want to think that Akira had just willingly done that with him. Because only perverts think that the children they lust after return those desires. Of course, Akira wasn't a child anymore. He was never really a child in the sense of what a child was or should be
All he could see though was a child. The brat that Kyo had insisted on bringing along, despite the protests of his two companions. That brat that had to get his nose in everyone's' business, worse than a puppy dog. Meeting that same kid again shouldn't have lead to feelings of lust that Hotaru had long since buried. Surely by now, Hotaru should have been able to see him as a brother if anything. Not that Hotaru knew anything about being brotherly, but still. It was like he had just fucked his little brother.
Of course, brothers didn't let their brothers fuck them either. At least he thought so since that one drunken grope session with Shinrei had resulted in his nose being broken. Akira had practically begged for it. He had been demanding, almost to the point that Hotaru had forgotten that he wasn’t the one pinned to the wall. Or had he been the one pinned to the wall? Maybe that was the sick thing about what had happened: the fact that he couldn't remember who had did what or that maybe he didn't want to.
Fandom: Samurai Deeper Kyo
Pairing: AkiraxHotaru, kinda but not really hint of one sided Hotaru/Shinrei
Rating: R for strong innuendos, hinting at oral sex, ect.
Length: 476 words
Summary: Hotaru just got what he wanted from Akira, only he's not sure if he really wanted it or what happened.
Disclaimer: I do not own the series or these characters. The list of pairings can be found here: http://silver-magess.livejournal.com/164999.html
Note that I'm not going in order either.
There was something wrong with him. Actually, if Hotaru paused for a moment to think, he would realize that he had always been a little wrong. But this was a completely different wrong. He had just had his evil, twisted way with Akira. Well, it wasn't as if Akira had protested. Not much. Nor had he tried to freeze or slice up Hotaru, a sure sign that it hadn't been anything close to rape. Though, Hotaru kind of wished that he had been lying there, drowning in his own blood.
Instead, Akira had kissed him back with all the force of someone who was far from naïve, far from innocent. He told Hotaru where to touch him, nothing like that little brat who made faces at the slightest mention of sex. It was so wrong, even though it had felt better than anything Hotaru had experienced in years. To the point where it was obvious that Akira was far more experienced that he was, which had almost dampened the mood, until Akira twisted his hands into Hotaru's hair and yanked his head downwards. From there, things had gone into flurry of raw, mindless sex, the kind that a lady's pillow book could only hint at.
Yet, he still wanted to resist those thoughts. He didn’t want to think that Akira had just willingly done that with him. Because only perverts think that the children they lust after return those desires. Of course, Akira wasn't a child anymore. He was never really a child in the sense of what a child was or should be
All he could see though was a child. The brat that Kyo had insisted on bringing along, despite the protests of his two companions. That brat that had to get his nose in everyone's' business, worse than a puppy dog. Meeting that same kid again shouldn't have lead to feelings of lust that Hotaru had long since buried. Surely by now, Hotaru should have been able to see him as a brother if anything. Not that Hotaru knew anything about being brotherly, but still. It was like he had just fucked his little brother.
Of course, brothers didn't let their brothers fuck them either. At least he thought so since that one drunken grope session with Shinrei had resulted in his nose being broken. Akira had practically begged for it. He had been demanding, almost to the point that Hotaru had forgotten that he wasn’t the one pinned to the wall. Or had he been the one pinned to the wall? Maybe that was the sick thing about what had happened: the fact that he couldn't remember who had did what or that maybe he didn't want to.