о достославный жж! о великий инглиш! таки нашла ХОТЬ ОДИН рейтинговый фик с любимым ОТП.
столько новых слов, емаа, стока слов... по-моему, тему "анатомия на инглише" после этого могу сдать на пять.
впрочем нет, не смогу. слишком отвлекалась на смысЕл и визуализацию, едва успевая краснеть и хихикать, чтобы запомнить как оно там по англицки-та было написано.


заныкаю тут текст, а то мало ли, вдруг куда пропадет.
Gundam 00 - Over Sharing
Pairing: Allelujah/Marie
Rated: NC-17
Type: porn
Warnings: Animal roleplay/furry porn.
Words: 2532
Summary: Allelujah and Marie agree to try out something new. Marie is skeptical. (Written for the kinkmeme.)


Marie should have known, when he bought the rug. Because really, what sort of man bought a fur rug, in this day and age?

Well, maybe a man like Lyle Dylandy would have. But Allelujah? Her Allelujah? It was just-- odd. Jarring.

Especially since he wanted her to dress up, too.

She fingered the costume he'd left on the bed. It wasn't ugly-- she'd seen Sumeragi dressed up in something not dissimilar, at Mileina's last costume party. But Sumeragi's costume hadn't had gloves. Or a fur-lined back and front. Or a zipper-- there.

With a quiet sigh, Marie read the note that lay on top of the neatly folded costume. If she delayed much longer, she wouldn’t be able to finish the preparations for dinner before Allelujah got home.


It itched. Not the fur, luckily—whatever company made these things seemed to know what they were doing on that front, at least—but the zippered section over her genitals had been chaffing her since she’d slipped the one-piece on.

She was so focused on not squirming that she didn’t hear Allelujah at all, as he came back behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

It was more instinct than anything else than made her spin around and press the knife against his throat. She’d been trained against sneak-attacks for years—it had nothing at all to do with how uncomfortable the stupid bunny costume was.

“Marie,” he rumbled, eyes dark and pleased behind the—was that a snout?? “You aren’t wearing the gloves,” he said, moving his hands down to rub at her tail, before moving down to cup her ass. He didn’t seem very concerned with the knife pressed against him, she noted sourly.

“I was getting ready for dinner—I didn’t want to get them dirty,” she shot back, still flustered. She withdrew the knife from his throat and turned back to the counter to put it down. Allelujah, quietly stubborn as ever, didn’t move his hands, and just started to rub at her lower belly, instead.

Marie looked down at his costumed arms, wrapped around her, and hesitantly ran her hands down one of them, surprised at how soft it was. She could just see the outline of his costume—all soft, furry edges—in the reflection of the window. The tips of her rabbit ears stretched up above his head, blocking his face from view, until he leaned down to kiss her bare shoulder.

With an mental roll of her eyes, she glanced toward the doorway to the living room—and ran.

Allelujah followed, of course, caught her before she made it half-way across the living room, just like he’d wanted, so they landed with a soft thump on the fur carpet in front of the fireplace. She squirmed, pressed flat on her belly by his greater weight. She scrambled forward, kicking back at him as best she could, hands gripped tight in the fur in an attempt for leverage.

“Marie,” Allelujah said, struggling to grab her wrists, grinding against her—he was already hard, she noticed with a tiny thrill. “Marie, I’ve caught you,” he said, and ended it with a grunt when she tried to smack him in the face with the back of her head, bunny ears flopping wildly. The stupid snout softened the blow, of course—she wouldn’t have done it, otherwise—but Allelujah made a short noise of annoyance, and one of his hands stopped grabbing at her for a moment as he went to adjust the nose-piece.

Just like she wanted.

With a sudden shift of her weight, Marie threw him off her, and rolled to sit on his chest, shins pressing down on his arms. He stared up at her, blinking in mild surprise, “Marie,” he started, slightly reproachful, “I told you, I’m the one who’s supposed to—”

“Shut up, Allelujah,” she said, smartly, and leaned down to jerk off the offensive snout. “You didn’t say anything about this,” tossing the nose piece into the fire. Pity she hadn’t thought to start one, before starting dinner.

“No,” he said, slightly chagrined. He looked so timid, lying there beneath her weight, a lamb in wolf’s clothing. “But it’s—still alright?” This said as he shifted her legs off his arms (barely any effort at all; he always did humour her), to rub his hand down the soft, white fur that decorated her belly.

As if she could refuse him anything. “It’s alright,” Marie said, quietly, a blush creeping up on her cheeks as she looked down at him. “The crotch itches, though,” she said, unwilling to let that one go quite as easily.

For some reason, that seemed to cheer him up. “Oh,” Allelujah said, smiling brightly, “Marie, that’s—that’s the point.” With a motion that was far too practiced for her liking, he tilted her hips up, and with barely a glance, unzipped the crotch of her costume, back to front, the light pressure of his hand sending a little burst of heat through her as he unzipped past her clit, and suddenly stuck two of his fingers up inside her as deep as they could go.

“Alle—Allelujah!” she said, shocked, and offered no resistance when he rolled them over again, keeping his fingers tight up inside her.

“Marie,” he said, and bowed his head, the large, floppy dog ears-- Wolf, she reminded herself, he said he would be dressing up as a wolf-- hiding his face from view for a moment. “You didn’t think they put that there for nothing, did you?”

Marie flushed hotly, in embarrassment and because he’d started to pump his fingers inside her. She didn’t answer him, except to say, “You didn’t wear your gloves, either.”

Allelujah smiled, and ducked his head again—this time to lean down over her body and rub his face against the hair on her belly. “Marie,” he said, reverently, like he always did at times like this, and craned his head up so he could meet her eyes with his head still rubbing against her, luxuriating in the feel of the fur.

She flushed, the same strange tightness in her chest she always felt when he said her name like that—like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. His fingers moved inside her, lazily, pumping in and out wetly, the smell of her starting to fill the air around them.

She was still—well, not fully dressed, but the rest of her torso was completely covered in the bunny outfit he’d picked out, though her arms and legs were bare, and everything she could feel on her skin was fur, soft—but completely alien. She moved one hand to card through Allelujah’s hair, the familiar texture a sudden, sharp comfort amongst all the strange sensations she was getting from the rest of her skin. “Allelujah, you caught me,” she said, and drew his head up to her for a kiss.

His fingers withdrew from her, and he brought his wet fingers—she was soaking, down there, she thought a little wildly—to cup her chin, rubbing her own juices into her flesh.

They kissed lightly—chastely, considering Allelujah’s previous actions—mouths closed, lips just pressing together, enjoying the texture. With an anxious little growl, Marie opened her mouth and swiped at Allelujah’s lips with her tongue, before biting down on his lower lip and suckling it into her mouth. Allelujah’s eyes darkened, the pupils blowing out, and he bore down on her, his greater weight suddenly pressing her down into the fur.

With a sharp motion, his hand was behind her head, pressing her up against him, and his tongue was diving into her mouth, conquering her, fucking her with his tongue like he’d just done with his fingers. He growled, the sound rumbling up from his lungs and into her, and her eyes rolled back in her head just a bit as his hips suddenly thrust into hers, the feel of fur against her hot, wet slit sending strange signals all through her body.

The kiss seemed to go on for hours—certainly minutes, with how well their bodies used oxygen—before she dragged her face to the side, panting, her hair falling over her face in a white cascade. She felt—debauched, somehow, without the feel of his lips against hers, only the strange sensation of fur to ground herself with.

She grabbed at his hand, the familiar feel of human flesh calming her nerves, letting her settle back into herself. His hair drifted around her face, lightly ticklish, and she blew a stream of air up at it to watch the strands rise before settling back into place. Allelujah watched Marie watch him for a few minutes, indulgent, before he let out a low, playful growl, and manhandled her onto her stomach.

Marie shivered at the feeling of her lover unzipping her costume, peeling it down from the top so the flaps lay bunched around her waist. He left the bottom-half on, one hand idly playing with her buttocks around the bunny tail as the other moved under her body to cup her breast, fingernails scratching lightly at the skin of her areola. Marie let out a low moan, squirming back on her belly so she could press herself against him.

Allelujah's knee came forward to accommodate her, pressing almost too hard against the lips of her labia. Marie gasped at the sensation, her clit agonizingly free of pressure from both the rug and Allelujah's knee.

"Allelujah," she said, frustrated, and turned to look over her shoulder-- only to have a big, firm hand cup her head, pressing her face back down to the rug. "Just what do you think you're doing?" Marie asked, voice lightly muffled by speaking into the carpet.

"Pinning you down," Allelujah replied calmly. He kept his hand pressing down on the base of her skull, shockingly immovable when she tried to press back against him. "I wouldn't struggle, if I were you, Marie-- you don't want to rouse my hunting instinct again."

Marie gave a frustrated squirm, groping for the arm that held her down, pinned.

With a sharp, shocking motion, Allelujah lifted her up neatly onto her knees, kicking them apart so she was stretched out, nearly to the point of discomfort. "It's all part of the game, Marie," Allelujah whispered in her ear, voice hot and moist against her skin. "You can follow rules, can't you?"

Not that he was, as he ran his hands down her arms, his entire chest-- now furrless, when in the world had he gotten the chance to strip off?-- pressed right up against her back. She could feel his cock, heavy and full, resting lightly above her her ass, his balls arching over the swell of her cheeks. His palms, which pressed against the top of her hands to keep them pressed flat, were a dark, distracting contrast with her own milky-paleness.

"Allelujah," Marie said, trying to pull her arms out from under his, "of course I can follow rules, I was a sold--"

"Then stop talking," Allelujah said, and bit down on the juncture between Marie's neck and shoulder, not letting go or pressing down, but holding on, sucking, gripping the tendon between his teeth.

Marie quieted, flushed, and was immediately rewarded by Allelujah drawing his hips back, only to push forward, this time angled so his cock slid over and between her labia, coating himself in her juices.

"You're soaked," Allelujah said, trying to sound casual, but coming off as supremely smug. "I think you love this, Marie. I think you love that I can pin you down." He stopped for a moment, and Marie could feel his cock twitching against her. He took a moment to push forward, then pull back, the head of his cock catching on her clit.

Marie whimpered, clenching her eyes shut and letting her head fall to hang limply between her shoulders. When she opened them again, she was looking straight down her own body to where Allelujah was rubbing against her. She was soaked, her thighs glistening, Allelujah's cockhead oozing out its own clear drops of fluid. The carpet beneath her legs looked damp.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she raised her head, straining to look over her shoulder. "Allelujah," she said, almost begging, and Allelujah leaned forward, catching her mouth with his own. They kissed, lips gliding smoothly together, and he drew back far enough to press into her, one long, smooth Slide.

He was so big. Somehow, she always forgot the exact sensation of it, the sheer magnitude of his cock filling her up. Her eyelids fluttered, her mouth fell open. Allelujah took the opportunity the push his tongue into her mouth, and started thrusting. It was smooth-- it could be nothing else, with how aroused she was-- but she felt the strain of stretched flesh, her insides clenching spasmodically as he pulled back just a bit too fast, a bit too far, for her to adjust with it.

One of Allelujah's hands lifted up from her own, sliding down her body and between her thighs, to circle her clit with the edge of his thumb, brushing over the head on every outward stroke. She clamped down on him with her muscles, hard, on every in-stroke, and reveled in the groan he let out, harsh pants filling up the air between them. He shifted his fingers, rubbing her with his index and main, harder than before, an arrhythmic tempo the sent waves of heat coursing through her body.

"Marie," Allelujah panted, voice low, hoarse. "Marie, I want you to come for me." A little shiver of delight went through her at his words, and she clenched down on the cock inside her, orgasm suddenly closer than she'd have imagine possible just a breath before. "That's good, Marie," Allelujah said, the strain in his voice audible, "You like it, don't you? Like me telling you to come-- like me, like me fucking you, like an animal, on our fur rug, fur pressing-- all against you."

His words continued, fragmented and broken, and he suddenly pressed down, hard, into her clit, not letting the pressure up even as he jerked his fingers from side to side.

Marie came.

Her eyes slammed shut , her arms gave out, and she came, held up only by Allelujah's arm now wrapped across her chest, and he was still fucking her, pressing up into all the wonderful places that only he'd ever been.

Her hips twitched, trying to get a bit of relief from the continual sensations, still clamped down tight around Allelujah from her orgasm, tighttightighrelease, until Allelujah gave a great, deep groan, and slammed into her and stayed there, cock pulsing.

They collapsed onto the rug. After a moment, Allelujah rolled onto his back, cock slipping out, wet, to soften against his thigh.

Marie turned herself over onto her back. They lay there, staring at the ceiling.

"That was fun," Allelujah said, tilting his head over toward Marie.

"Mmm," Marie agreed, feeling languid. She didn't want to move. "Next time, I get to be the wolf."