InsaneJournal

Current mood:	excited
Entry tags:	[all fic], category: crossover, category: m/f, challenge: porn_battle, character: claire stanfield, character: luck gandor, character: mitsuru, character: rachel, fandom: baccano!, fandom: persona 3, length: 500-1k words, pairing: claire/rachel, pairing: luck/mitsuru

Fic: porn_battle ficlets (Baccano!, Baccano!/Persona 3)
So porn_battle round 2 is over, and the master list is up! Tons, tons of awesome stuff there.

And at 7 contributions, Baccano! made the list of the top 5 fandoms! It shares the list with Stargate Atlantis, FFVII, FFXII, and Crossovers, and just edges out Kingdom Hearts. (We can also note that four of the crossovers contained Baccano!, too.) Good job, homemade fandom! :D

These are my two bits. I had ridiculous amounts of fun with both of them.

Rated not worksafe for porn, obviously. All het this time.

Baccano!/Persona 3 crossover, Luck/Mitsuru. Prompt was: "Business or pleasure?" ~700 words. (see also laylah's version)
the best business alliance he's ever arranged

Luck had known the new leader of the Kirijo group was a woman, of course. He'd also heard she was competent, sensible, worth working with. He had gathered such information thoroughly, of course, before he let a breath of information slip that he was considering working with the Kirijo group on several new business ventures in Japan.

He was gratified to receive an invitation to the Kirijo headquarters a few days after that deliberate leak. Somehow, though, his information had neglected the fact that Mitsuru Kirijo was young and attractive.

She walks him into her office with a businesslike smile behind bright hair. Her short, practical black skirt is flared enough to let her take long, confident steps, heeled boots clicking solidly against the floor.

They work out the details of their partnered endeavors over the next few days of meetings. She's a pleasure to work with.

Luck waits until they've concluded their negotiations before he invites her to dinner. She still pauses at his offer, face blank as she calculates the possible implications, and that just makes Luck smile and hope harder that she will accept.

She does. And she invites him back to her apartment afterwards.

Before Luck knows it she's got him against the wall of her entrance hall, tongue sweet with the wine from dessert dipping into his mouth, and he thinks this is possibly the best business alliance he's arranged in an increasingly long history of such.

He kisses her back, settling a hand on a bare patch of skin at her hip. She hooks a leg around one of his, skirt riding up as she slides up his thigh. He slips a hand under the fabric to touch the soft, warm skin of her upper leg, running the pad of his thumb along the inside crease just before the edge of her panties. She breaks away from his mouth to toss her head back. Then she reaches for his belt.

"Would you prefer to take this somewhere more comfortable?" Luck offers as she unfastens the buckle deftly.

"Not particularly, no." Mitsuru's voice is huskier but still even. "Can you manage here?"

Luck thinks he sees a glint of challenge in her eyes. "Of course."

She unfastens his pants, but she's pressed too close for them to really get their clothes off enough for this. She seems to realize this at the same time as him, and she stands away for a moment. Luck takes advantage and gets his other hand up her skirt and pulls her panties down her thighs. She pushes them down the rest of the way and steps out out of them, avoiding getting them hooked on her boots with an ease that speaks to practice and makes Luck's cock twitch.

Then she reaches down his pants, and his cock fairly jumps into her hand.

"I want this," she says.

"I think that can be arranged." Luck reaches up her skirt again, both hands on the backs of her thighs. Then he lifts, getting her off the ground and walking the few steps until her back hits the opposite wall.

Her eyes flare. Then she hikes up her skirt, gets a thigh around his again, and Luck gets his cock out the rest of the way. He feels the heat of her before he pushes in, and she's so wet it's wonderfully easy.

Rocking all the way into her presses her up and back; after a few thrusts she's up on the toes of one foot, the other leg wrapped around him to pull him closer, most of her weight pressed against the wall.

When she has a visible sheen of sweat, Luck notices her shirt has gotten twisted around, and he wishes he'd thought to take it off first. Instead he leans in to the bared neckline, mouths her collarbone and bites it as he shifts deeper. She whimpers at that, and so he does it again, and then she breaks, gasping and shuddering around him, and he thrusts a few more times before he's gone himself.

He pulls out, and she gets her feet back on the ground, her legs shaking a bit as they take her weight. He looks up at her face, and the challenge isn't gone from her eyes.

"Now," she says, "you can come to bed."


Baccano!, Claire/Rachel. Prompt was "nobody gets a free ride." ~800 words.
he smells like the iron tang of blood

It's a terrible joke that the Director gave Rachel this assignment in the first place. She's still not sure why she accepted. She keeps her distance as much as she can and refuses entirely to follow the man when he goes into dark buildings.

Rachel should have expected that he'd notice her anyway. He's Vino, Claire Stanfield, after all.

He exits the building via a window and catches her laying on the nearby roof - jumps up like it's nothing and is sitting in front of her before she's managed to pull herself upright enough to move out of sight.

"What," she swallows, tries again, "What are you going to do to me?"

"That depends." He smiles. He isn't as blood-soaked as he was on the train, but that would have been a feat. His hands are still stained red to the elbows. "What are you doing here?"

Honesty's probably best. He might kill her for it, but then he might kill her for lying, so— "Following you. I — I work for an information shop."

"So you're gathering information on me?" He leans in close to her face, and he smells like the iron tang of blood. She flinches away, then nods.

"I suppose that's all right, then. Neutral. No one's going to catch me, after all. And you helped out on the train." He's not all bad, she reminds herself. He did help rescue those people. He might not— "There's just the matter of your free ride, then."

"What?" She shifts a bit more, gets her legs under her. She doesn't really think she could escape, but—

"What kind of a conductor would I be if I let that slide?" His voice is all reason. "Of course, I'm not actually a conductor anymore, but that doesn't mean I've lost my principles."

"I didn't have the money," she says flatly. "I still don't."

"I expected as much," he says, and then reaches for her. Her instincts say run, and her legs flex instantly, but she's only half-standing before he grabs the front of her sweater, pulling her down and—kissing her?

She's completely unprepared for it, but that's what it is. His mouth presses hard to hers, hot, his tongue pressing into her mouth like it's a conquest. It's suggestive, and if there's any way she wasn't expecting this to work out—

Her heart is pounding in her ears when he breaks away. He smiles at her again, curve of his mouth too pretty for a killer.

"You—" She bites off the question. She's asked too many already. Stating things is more powerful, can even make them the truth. "I'll... suck you off. And then we'll be even. And you'll leave me alone, let me do my job."

He cocks his head at her curiously. "If that's what you want."

Rachel gives him a look rather than try to respond to that. The man makes no sense.

"Let's move away from the edge a bit." He stands and walks around her to the center of the roof. Rachel is incredulous. They'll only be slightly less visible from the street, there, and eventually someone will come investigate the screams that had come from that building. But then he's unhooking his crisp black pants, leaving smears of blood, and it's not like she really has options.

She walks over and kneels by him. She tries not to think about what she's doing as she takes his cock out of his pants, strokes him to hardness. Seals her lips around him.

He smells like a man, dark and musky, and it almost overwhelms the smell of blood that's both on him and on her where he's touched her. She can manage this. She finds a rhythm, sliding her mouth on him steadily.

Then Rachel hears the sirens and voices. She jumps, almost chokes.

"Don't worry, they won't find us." Claire's voice is deep but even, confident, and it might be attractive if he wasn't an insane serial murderer. He strokes away the hair at her temple, a bizarrely gentle gesture, and it might be comforting except that there's still blood on his hands and it leaves a trail on her skin that she can feel, damp and slightly tacky.

She takes him in deeper again and he moans. She wants to yell at him to be quiet. Fear and something else twist inside of her.

She tries not to focus too hard on the sounds of people approaching, but she still misses it when he gets close, misses it until he says, "Now," and pulls back so his come hits the roof of her mouth. He tastes like salt, and she doesn't smell blood again until she moves away.