kink meme 1.0

[likedillinger]

By popular demand...

Our First Ever
Knights of Legend Kink Meme

 

What is a kink meme? Pretty self explanatory, actually. You request a pairing and a prompt/kink anonymously, and someone else (or several someone elses for that matter) will be able to fill that request- also anonymously (unless they choose to do it logged in). Fun way to get fic, fun way to find fic to write, and good if you're embarrassed to post! Fun for the whole fami- oh. Er, maybe not. You know what I mean! (Note that while this is called a kink meme, the rules are pretty fast and loose. Nonexplicit fic is also allowed, but there is generally a focus on kinky stuff or some form of character relationship of a sexual or romantic nature.)
 

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Rules

♦ Post requests and responses in the comments to this post.
♦ Be respectful. 
♦ Both a pairing/character AND a prompt/kink must be posted.
♦ One pairing/prompt per comment please.
♦ You are encouraged to try and write one prompt for every request you make.
♦ We are slash, femslash, het, three-and-moresomes etc. friendly.  Also pegging.
♦ No pairing bashing. No need to wank over ships.
♦ Long and short fics (drabbles) welcome. Multiple responses encouraged!

Have fun!

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

alanna/jaime, hatesex

jaime/alanna hatesex | this is probably riddled with typos and nonsense

[immuno]

Four bloody days.

For the past four days straight, he hasn’t once stopped questioning her, and Alanna’s quite had it. She grabs a sword from the pile of armaments they’ve accrued and throws it on the ground between them. A loud clattering noise interrupts Ser Lannister quite in the middle of his tirade.

“Enough.” Hefting a second sword into her hand, she draws it from the scabbard and extends it towards him, using the tip of the blade to point down to the dropped weapon before him, gesturing up for him to take it. “If it’s my sex alone that you have such considerable distaste for, then I hope your hate poisons you. But if you have cause to call my leadership into question, then I ask that you stake your blade on it and prove yourself my better.”

He knows to expect her to outmaneuver him this time, and Jaime believes that means he can catch her. The righteous wench would get hers and come to see that it had been only by fluke and dishonesty that she had bested him to begin with. He rips his great sword from the scabbard. He steps in, moving quickly and slashing twice for her. Alanna jumps back and his second hit barely grazes off her leather armor, scraping the exterior without truly piercing it.

She follows up quickly with a staggering slash of her own sword, horizontal across his chest and slicing straight through the leather pads. It brings her in close enough for him to reach. She side steps his first overhead slash, but the diagonal cut upward that follows catches her painfully in the side.

“Luck isn’t on your side today, wench. You’ve slowed down.” Alanna stabs her sword straight into his lower ribs rather than reply. He swings his sword and catches her in the shoulder again, causing her to pull back just in time to parry his second swing. He lumbers towards her and she takes the chance to spin her sword out from under his, twisting steel against steel until she can drive hers down against his shoulder. Each blow strikes a particularly painful position, and Jaime is left heaving his breaths.

He charges her then, sweat pouring down his face, and she’s certain he means to kill her as his sword slashes across her chest. Her breath comes out slowly and she opens her eyes, wondering when she ever closed them, only to see his face inches from hers. The padded leather armor falls away from her chest, severed by the blow. He plunges his sword into the wall beside her head.

This time, he doesn’t get the last blow before he forfeits. Blood mingles with sweat, pouring off the both of them, and their heavy pants mirror one another’s in the silence that follows.

“You’re a godless coward, Jaime Lannister,” she can’t stop herself. His breath on her face makes her stomach turn, and she’s sick to know that it could just as easily been her head he’d pierced his blade through. The most infuriating thing about him is that he’s right about her temper and her tact and Solace has seen it. She’d fought Jaime after he’d yielded and she loathes that he can bring out that untempered part of her when she’s worked so hard to become like steel.

Rather than reply, he surges forward to corner her against the wall with a kiss. There is no tenderness in it. He devours her like a starved animal, tasting the copper of blood in her mouth, and the bitterness of her hate. He knows too well what she thinks of him—that he is foul, a stain on her blessed order. His hands grip her upper arms, pressing her back into the wall, and he feels her muscles tighten as she clenches her fingers around the hilt of her blade. In that moment, he’s honestly not certain if she’ll run it straight through him. God knows she could.

Instead, she surprises the both of them by throwing it down and wrapping her arms around his middle to draw him closer. They break to gasp between kisses. The sharp, acrid stench of sweat comes off of her as he rips her shirt open, feeling her body jerk between him and the wall. Realizing he’s caught her off guard, his teeth dig into her lower lip.

Her fingers find a stranglehold around the straps of his armor, tearing blindly at it. The wench can’t seem to find the fastenings on a simple chest plate, so he draws his hands back to remove it himself, shucking the armor. Gratitude is overlooked by opportunism, and Alanna takes a step out, twisting to pin him against the wall. She sees no end to the battle, only a change in form.

By the time they have divested one another of the rest of their clothing, both of them have wrestled their way onto the floor. The fight for dominance continues, with Alanna only just barely winning by twisting around him like a blasted snake.

“Squeeze the life out of me now, and you’ll cheat us both of a far better end,” he hisses in warning, grabbing her forearm and dragging it away from his throat. Her palm smacks down onto the carpet beside his head and she gives him no reply but to drop her head down, mouth searching for his in an unkind kiss. Each push, every pull, every kiss stings of guilt and loathing, pouring out from her like a font. It takes him a moment of watching her rip open the laces of his breeches to realize that it is not for him, but for herself in doing this.

Somehow, the thought sits wrongly with him.

Her hand settles around his cock in time for him to push it down, giving it no thought as his blood sings for the satisfying finality of it. Their bodies burn as one together, and he thrashes from beneath her, turning her onto her back in a burst of sudden strength—or, more likely, in a well-timed moment of distraction. He grabs her thighs with bruising strength, spreading them wide and pressing himself between them. Something indiscernible comes from her throat, half-choked on the wings of a ragged breath.

“Shut your eyes, my lady,” he taunts, taking it for nervousness, “and it’ll all be over soon.” In answer, she cuffs him on the side of the head, digging her heels into the muscle of his ass and drawing him in.

“Hurry up, you gormless bastard.” The head of his cock glides across her slick, and Jaime feels his eyes roll back, muffling a groan against her skin. However long it’s been, he had managed not to miss the sweet warmth of a woman’s cunt until presented with hers, and the ache springs forth with a painful suddenness. Repressed as she is, he’d have expected more resistance than he finds, but for all her righteousness, Alanna is no maiden.

Sinking into her does little to relieve the ache, only worsening the inferno raging beneath his skin. For all the raving she does about being the same as a man, she’s certainly not where it counts. Jaime straightens up, shifting his grip on her thighs so that his palms curve underneath them, and he uses that grip to yank her towards him roughly, thrusting his hips forward with bruising force at the same time. Her back arches under him, pink tits straining up towards him, as if begging for attention. Alanna raises her hands above her head, bracing herself on the carpet or simply recoiling away from him—he would not presume certainty.

Spurred on as she begins to allow hurried, pleading moans to spill past her lips, mingled with curses that would make the worst rogue blush, he continues to drive into her with brutal, relentless thrusts. Each rock of his hips causes heat to coil tighter within him, brings him a little closer to the point where his control finally snaps. His movements become erratic, instinctive, and blind. He drops his hands to rest on the carpet on either side of her, leaning forward over Alanna’s pale form as she continues to buck up off the floor, meeting him hit for hit just as she had done in the battle.

When her hands drop to try and finish herself the rest of the way, feeling the tension in his limbs building, he has to swat her away with one hand. His fingers search through matted, dark red hair for the tiny, hardened nub that he knows will have her shrieking in the only way he can stand to hear. The pad of his thumb circles it steadily, but he makes no move to slow his movements. If the wench is left wanting, it’s no problem of his—and yet, when she begins to writhe and her inner muscles seize up around him, he finds himself reevaluating his faith in the gods.

His lips search across a bloody slash just below her chest, left by his blade, saliva sealing it. When the edges of his vision darken, the perfect, scorching stranglehold of her cunt carries him the rest of the way. He thrusts into her until there is nothing left of him for her to take, and then he collapses on top of her, heavy and boneless.

Alanna suffers no such period of exhaustion, shoving him clean off of her with one sharp thrust of her palms into his chest.

Ah, well. The reprieve from her shrill voice was worth it while he’d had it.