|The Ghosts of Memetopia
Author: NuitNuit PM
Series of k!meme fills for Dragon Age 2. All fills in this collection are of the lolzy and cracky variety and not at all meant to be taken as oh so serious fic.Rated: Fiction M - English - Chapters: 6 - Words: 3,568 - Reviews: 26 - Favs: 3 - Follows: 4 - Updated: 04-13-11 - Published: 03-25-11 - id: 6847374
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
AN: This snippets/stories/etc. contained within are meant to be silly. Tongue should be firmly planted in cheek at all times (you can decide what I mean by cheek). Also sorry about the random category. This is the work around for publishing new stuff while things are borked. I am obviously NOT writing 'Harriet the Spy' fanfic.
Prompt: I want ridiculous porn. I WANT TO SEE ISABELA'S WRITING.
More specifically, I want someone (or some people?) in the group to find it and possibly read it out loud, either behind her back or to her face (do they dare?). Either way, their reactions must be awesome.
Bonus points if it includes a glistening elf who is obviously a horrific/wonderful Fenris expy.
Double bonus if Isabela clearly thinks her smut is awesome.
The sunlight shone hard and bright against his hard and bright chest. This elf was like no other that Falcone had seen and he had seen many, having a love for those with pointed and erect ears. The sharper the peak, the longer the beak, he had kidded before. Rivulets of water cascaded down the slippery slope of Fenrir's chest. Falcone's chausses felt impossibly tight at the sight, the hardness of pulsing desire swelling his loins.
A tempest's breeze licked at naked skin and wispy wasps of white lit hair, tussling the loose locks atop Fenrir's head. Falcone could no longer help himself, want, and longing stirring his manhood, stoking the flames of his passion into a desperate cry for action.
Fenrir smiled, a slight and self-satisfied type of smirk at Falcone. He knew the effect his tattooed body had upon Falcone. Eyes the color of dew kissed grass locked target with Falcone's icy blue. There was a dare in that stare. A challenge set upon the rocky ground that separated the men. And it was a challenge Falcone was more than happy to accept.
A hungry hunter hunting the hungered hunted, Falcone stalked his prey in a slow, sauntering step. Fenrir moved in mirrored movement, more water sluicing down his skin as he edged from the hot spring. His body was a piece of art to be admired and desired. Red markings coiled along the muscles and limbs of Fenrir like lusty snakes supping upon supple flesh.
Evidence of Fenrir's growing passion caught Falcone's gaze. As the space between the men narrowed, Falcone reached out, fingertips burning to feel the rigid softness of Fenrir's…
"What are you reading," Isabella asked causing Fenris to shut the notebook rather quickly. He rolled over onto his back in an attempt to hide the evidence.
"Nothing," he intoned dryly, a look of innocence splashing across his features.
The weight of her gaze bore down upon Fenris. Disbelief colored dark brows. But as if in an instant, a more amused tilt overtook her lips, her grin broad.
Eyes trailed down the line of Fenris' chest and settled their focus upon his pants and his erection. "If I had known the effect my writing had on you, I would have let you read it sooner."