Title: The Moon, Painted in Shades of Dying
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Squalo/Dino
Word Count: 456
Notes: Squalo/Dino and erotic asphyxiation, also found here at khrmeme .
Excerpt: The moonlight filters through cheap motel shutters, pale-white, bone-white, the color of teeth.

The moonlight filters through cheap motel shutters, pale-white, bone-white, the color of teeth.

Dino moans. His voice, it goes haa, haa, heavy, pained. His back aches from the strain as Squalo forces his knees apart and up over his shoulders.

"Nnn, ahh, please," he gasps.

The sheets are crumpled under his back, their folds pressing into skin. His eyes are squeezed shut and his mouth hangs open as Squalo's fingers slide over his cock, slick with lube. They twist over the head and tug at the slit. He shudders, panting.

"Squalo . . ."

Squalo slaps him. "Shut up," he snarls. "Shut the fuck up."

The moonlight glints off of Squalo's eyes. They are feral, wild, bestial in the darkness. Teeth bared, scent of blood.

"Don't talk," he says.

The fingers circle his asshole, dipping in, once, twice, before intruding past tightly-clenched muscle. Dino's hips jerk up to meet them, and he bites his lip to stop from moaning. In, out, in, out, in out in out and oh please until Squalo pushes in with his cock.

Hot. Heavy. Burning.

His legs cross over Squalo's back and he grits his teeth together, shivering. Please and thank you. The moon glares, a bone-colored warning. Shut up. Don't speak.

Squalo fucks him, deep, hard, deeper, harder. Dino writhes against the bed, reeling from the brush of flesh against nerves within him. A low, keening moan slips out mnnnaahhh, a sound fucked from his mouth. He can't help it.

Squalo grabs his throat, shakes him. His voice is deadly. "Shut. Up."

"Ah, ahh, mn," Dino whimpers with each thrust and Squalo presses harder, going for the jugular. Haa, haa, choked and hoarse. Squalo does not let go.

The bed creaks beneath them, faster, faster. Dino struggles against the hand holding him down, claws at it, tears at it, desperate, choking. His mouth gulps noiselessly and his eyes roll back. Please please please.

His body twists helplessly, jerking, shaking as Squalo fucks him. He is going to die, fucked to death, choked to death. A fish drowning under the moon, dying, dying . . .

Air rushes into his lungs and he screams, orgasming, spurting come across his chest and face. His hips convulse, thrusting, twisting against Squalo's hands. There is a burning sensation within him, wet and hot. It dribbles from his asshole and seeps down his thighs.

Dino coughs, coughs, coughs. His limbs are weak and shaking, and his body shudders with coughing. Squalo pushes him away and stands.

Wait, please, Dino tries to say. His throat is raw, and he gasps out nothing. Please. He drags himself up with trembling arms, but, too late, Squalo's already gone.

Only the moon remains, pale, white, the color of bone.


Title: From the Other Side of Nothing
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Byakuran/Gokudera
Word Count: 380
Notes: Byakuran/Gokudera, somnophilia and bloodplay, here at khrmeme . Also, I am a creep, a creeeep.
Excerpt: With his soul buried in nothing, his face is untroubled, quiet, serene. Lashes long against pale skin, lips parted and red – a Sleeping Beauty, blissful, caught in a forever of silence.

Gokudera sleeps.

With his soul buried in nothing, his face is untroubled, quiet, serene. Lashes long against pale skin, lips parted and red – a Sleeping Beauty, blissful and caught in a forever of silence.

Byakuran longs to destroy it. Beauty is ephemeral and deservedly so; its transience only makes it more valuable. He draws his fingers along delicate bones, thinking, nothing gold can last.

"Wake up," he whispers. His breath stirs the delicate hairs by Gokudera's ear. "Gokudera-kun."

His hand ghosts along Gokudera's chest and he presses his lips to his neck, where the skin is fine and thin. He flicks a fingernail over one nipple, then the other, and presses himself to Gokudera's back. Gokudera sighs and turns away from the movement, burrowing deeper into oblivion.

Byakuran knows the deterioration time will bring. Gokudera's fragile beauty, it will rot and decay, slipping through gnarled fingers to turn to smoke and ash and shadow. All things die in the end. He smiles at the thought.

I will destroy you. Byakuran rakes his fingernails down Gokudera's stomach, raising crimson lines like claw marks. I will destroy your beauty. He punctures skin with teeth, drawing blood. These imperfect humans, so easily hurt, so easily killed. So easily turned to dust and air.

He curls his hand around Gokudera's cock and strokes it, gentle movements that tug at the loose skin around the head. The blood is a copper tang in his mouth, inviting and salty. "Oh, Gokudera-kun," he sighs. He licks at the scarlet that leaks from the bite, smearing it like watery paint. "Wake up."

Gokudera is panting in his sleep, now. His hips jerk against Byakuran's hand erratically, and his cheeks are flushed. The discomposure pleases Byakuran, who moves his hand faster, faster. But it's not enough, not nearly enough. He draws a knife from its sheath, pressing the blade against skin.

Your beauty, I will destroy it.

Gokudera shudders awake, eyes flickering open, ripped from the other side of nothing. He gasps, spasming out his orgasm, mouth open, distorting his features into an anguished grimace. His face is nothing but pain – when he touches it, his fingers come away slick and red.

Byakuran stands above him, holding a bloody dagger. "Good morning, Gokudera-kun," he says. "Did you sleep well?"


Title: Double Negative
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Spanner/Tsuna
Word Count: 458
Notes: Spanner/Tsuna, exposure, here at khrmeme .
Excerpt: Tsuna, he's naked, spread, exposed. Poor Tsuna, he's shivering.

The handcuff is unforgiving against his wrist; cold, steel, hard, unyielding, but Tsuna still struggles.

"Please," he says. "You have to let me go."

Spanner sucks contemplatively on his lollipop and shrugs. "No," he says. He fits a scope to his eye and peers at Tsuna. "Strip."

Tsuna gapes at him, aghast. Spanner frowns and yanks roughly at his clothes. "Off, I said."

"Wh-what are you going to do?"

Spanner taps the gun lightly against railing, tink tink, "An examination, of course." The lens of the scope magnifies Spanner's eye tenfold -- behind the darkness, his pupil blinks, vast and moist.

Tsuna shudders, unzipping the jumpsuit. It catches on the chain.

"How do I --?"

"Leave it.

It's cold in the warehouse and he presses his goose-bumped arms to his chest. The jumpsuit is a heavy weight to his right, hanging limply on the chain.

"Take off your boxers."

"But --"

"Take them off."

Tsuna squeezes his eyes shut. No! He slides his shorts off, trembling with cold.

"Good. Lie down." Spanner hovers over him, fingers to the glass at his eye. Its stare unnerves Tsuna, and he looks away. Click click click click, the sound of a camera's shutter. Spanner hums to himself, pleased with the data he's obtained.

"Turn over," he says. Click click click. He straps Tsuna's ankles and wrists apart and removes the scope. "Try not to move."

Tsuna, he's naked, spread, exposed. Poor Tsuna, he's shivering.

"Now this," Spanner says, obviously proud, "is something that will catalogue every inch of you. Such a clever little thing. I made it myself, you know." He's holding a small, jittering thing, with legs that scrabble in air.

Hiiii, Tsuna is thinking. Nooo.

Spanner drops it without ceremony on Tsuna's chest. It skitters over one nipple, making Tsuna yelp, then taps its feelers over his skin. It's a strange sensation, like feathers.

Hunched over a terminal, Spanner makes a loud, wet slurp around his lollipop.

Tsuna gasps as the thing crawls over his stomach, nudging at his belly button. To his horror, his cock stiffens. No no no no.

From his computer, Spanner says, "Hmmmm."

It creeps downwards and Tsuna squirms away from it. "No, please," he whimpers. Desperately, he tries to bring his legs together. "Please, stop."

His hips jerk involuntarily as tiny feet patter over his cock. It dips a feeler into the slit at the top, as if to sample the liquid that has gathered there, and makes its excruciatingly slow way down to his balls. When it bumps against his asshole, he cries out. Hips shuddering, he comes, writhing helplessly and spurting over his stomach.

"Well," Spanner says, standing over him, scope in his hands. "That's interesting." And click,

photograph,

exposure.


Title: HOT TENTACLE LOVIN'
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Gokudera/tentacles
Word Count: 565
Notes: Gokudera and tentacles, here at khrmeme . I can't believe I wrote this, you guys. Unrelenting porn with no literary value whatsoever to the extreme.
Excerpt: The dynamite is lit in seconds, but by then, it's too late. Tentacles pour from nowhere, swamping him in slick, rubbery coils. His shout comes out mmmnnn, muffled by flesh.

He wakes, suddenly, abruptly, panting in the dark. There is something curling about his waist.

The dynamite is lit in seconds, but by then, it's too late. Tentacles pour from nowhere, swamping him in slick, rubbery coils. His shout comes out mmmnnn, muffled by flesh.

The tendrils pull at him, tossing him within their midst. Gokudera struggles wildly, scrabbling for the lighter in his pocket, but they grasp at his wrists and force them apart. His fingers flex helplessly.

A tentacle slides up through his shirt sleeve, rubbing past his armpit and curling about his nipple; another flicks at his navel, squirming against it. Gokudera shivers, gasping around the thickness in his mouth.

His pants are pulled roughly down and tendrils slip between his legs. They twist around his cock, slippery and firm, coiling, coiling. A slender curl wraps around his balls, lifting them up and tightening around them; others press against the head of his cock, tugging at the foreskin and dipping into the slit. The sound they make is wet and obscene.

Beneath them, Gokudera writhes, jerking his hips into the wriggling mass that tortures him. The tentacle in his mouth pulses and twists, sliding delicately across the sensitive palate. He moans into it, unable to control himself.

A tentacle, sliding down the length of his spine, nudges between his buttocks. It wriggles between them and presses against his asshole. Hot and slick, it rubs the puckered opening, just barely pushing through. It glides in slow, agonizing circles, rubbing against hypersensitive nerves.

Gokudera whimpers, hips thrusting erratically. The tentacle that strokes his asshole throbs in time with the tentacles that pull at his nipples. They undulate in unison, writhing in a delicate counterpoint against the ones that surround his cock.

His thighs tighten, and he squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for the orgasm that will release him from the pain of such prolonged arousal. His hips thrust again and again, seeking for relief, but there is none. The tentacles that clench around his balls deny him release.

The tendril at his asshole slides in unbearably slowly, twisting against taut and throbbing muscle. Another joins it, and they twine together, slippery, stroking the inside of his ass. They thrust leisurely, even as Gokudera grinds wantonly against them. Please, he begs silently, let me come.

Their first press against his prostate makes him scream, a stifled cry against the tentacle in his mouth. He shudders violently, thrashing against his bonds.

He's flipped over, then, in a disconcerting turn of gravity. His knees are pulled under him and his asshole gapes open. His cock, still covered with writhing tendrils, presses against his stomach, slick and hot. Tentacles slither into him, sliding across skin. His eyes flare open as they push in, thick and twisting.

The tentacle slips from his mouth as it drags his torso down. His mouth hangs open, slack and dripping. Moans force their way from the back of his throat, breathy and shameless.

"Ahhh, f-fuck, mnah, unhh –"

The coils around his cock writhe faster, faster, wriggling and pressing, while the tentacles that thrust into him tangle together and fuck him mercilessly. He shudders with every collective thrust, moaning, panting, gasping, whimpering, screaming, screaming –

The tendril that binds his balls loosens itself, and in a last, shivering, heady, gasping thrust, Gokudera comes, spurting deep into the mass of tentacles that pulse around him.