darktrent182 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
darktrent182) wrote2009-11-11 07:22 pm
darktrent182) wrote2009-11-11 07:22 pm
Entry tags:
FIC: Danger [One Piece]
TITLE: Danger
DISCLAIMER: One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda. Written for entertainment purposes, no money made, please don't sue, yadda.
FANDOM: One Piece
PAIRING: Buggy/Shanks
WORD COUNT: 300
WARNING: Kink.
RATING: R for implied stuff.
SUMMARY: It's not the knife that's the rush.
PROMPT: Rush
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Sucky title, but I kinda like how this turned out?
***
The tip of the knife traced slowly down one cheek, and then the other, the cold metal one slice away from severing an artery, a vein. It traced along his lower lip, across his cheekbone, around an ear.
The knife trailed ever so lightly over his Adam's apple as he breathed, down his chest, the metal catching in the fabric of his shirt. When it reached the waist of his pants, it dragged back up, cold metal on skin again forcing a shiver from him.
Once upon a time, that knife was dangerous. He would've screamed at the feel of it against his skin, but now... now it was like the caress of an old flame, cool and sweet, the danger past.
Opening his eyes, he followed the progress of the brown eyes watching him. His shirt was gone, but it wasn't like he didn't have more. Air brushed against his chest, the knife a solid counterpoint.
"How does this feel?" the red-haired teenager asked above him, tracing a swirling design on his chest, alternating between the flat of the blade and the tip.
He stretched, his back arching, and watched with a kind of smug amusement as Shanks pulled the knife away instead of letting it carve into his skin. It wasn't like it would leave a mark.
"You're still squeamish." He smirked, bending his right leg until his foot was flat on the bed. He interlaced his fingers behind his head and stretched again, his eyes closing at the delicious pull of muscles, the kiss of metal against him.
"I don't want to hurt you," Shanks murmured, the knife still resting against Buggy's chest.
"As if you could." Buggy snorted. To prove his point, he used his right foot to gain leverage and force himself upwards, into the knife.
Watching Shanks' surprise -- that's the rush Buggy wanted.
DISCLAIMER: One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda. Written for entertainment purposes, no money made, please don't sue, yadda.
FANDOM: One Piece
PAIRING: Buggy/Shanks
WORD COUNT: 300
WARNING: Kink.
RATING: R for implied stuff.
SUMMARY: It's not the knife that's the rush.
PROMPT: Rush
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Sucky title, but I kinda like how this turned out?
***
The tip of the knife traced slowly down one cheek, and then the other, the cold metal one slice away from severing an artery, a vein. It traced along his lower lip, across his cheekbone, around an ear.
The knife trailed ever so lightly over his Adam's apple as he breathed, down his chest, the metal catching in the fabric of his shirt. When it reached the waist of his pants, it dragged back up, cold metal on skin again forcing a shiver from him.
Once upon a time, that knife was dangerous. He would've screamed at the feel of it against his skin, but now... now it was like the caress of an old flame, cool and sweet, the danger past.
Opening his eyes, he followed the progress of the brown eyes watching him. His shirt was gone, but it wasn't like he didn't have more. Air brushed against his chest, the knife a solid counterpoint.
"How does this feel?" the red-haired teenager asked above him, tracing a swirling design on his chest, alternating between the flat of the blade and the tip.
He stretched, his back arching, and watched with a kind of smug amusement as Shanks pulled the knife away instead of letting it carve into his skin. It wasn't like it would leave a mark.
"You're still squeamish." He smirked, bending his right leg until his foot was flat on the bed. He interlaced his fingers behind his head and stretched again, his eyes closing at the delicious pull of muscles, the kiss of metal against him.
"I don't want to hurt you," Shanks murmured, the knife still resting against Buggy's chest.
"As if you could." Buggy snorted. To prove his point, he used his right foot to gain leverage and force himself upwards, into the knife.
Watching Shanks' surprise -- that's the rush Buggy wanted.