[Disclaimer – I own neither FROZEN(Movie) nor Final-Fantasy XIII(Video-Game), if I did then I sure as hell wouldn't be single.]
SNOW STORM
The sounds of gasping, panting heaves and raspy moans filled the hallway that was muffled by the door. A loud thud, a jingle of keys, with the shushing whisper of 'You'll wake my sister, hush.'
They stormed into the place, a near lust-frenzied hurricane. Slender hands tangled in light-strawberry locks as she urged her solider closer, lips sucking and biting. Strong hands, calloused and firm, lifted the swan-like woman who wrapped her legs around firm-hips. Grinding a wanting-heated core into a toned stomach, artic-eyes half lidded and bowed-lips in a silent plea. The solider ground the snow-woman against the door, groaning at the moans and whines of pure need. Hands yanked harshly, almost savagely, on long hair - and crystal-eyes narrowed.
Attacking, biting and sucking harshly against the fair-skin in possessive marks (Mine, she thought. Only mine, no one else's) Another hand slipped upwards, caressing against the silk-like dress cold as ice. Shivering, the blonde reached down, holding the heart-shaped face of her lover. Looking into pale-blue eyes that shone with so much warmth - so much love - it was enough to take Elsa's breath away. Freshly kissed and face flushed, the woman leaned forward and took that teasing lower-lip between her teeth. Letting loose a moan of pure want.
'Sweet Etro!' Arm's toned from years of practicing with a gun-blade, Lightning barely managed to hold onto the younger woman - at least she seemed younger. With her time in crystal stasis, they cou-
No, no, just - No. Don't even go there, Farron.
By some small miracle, the rebel managed to get to the bed; and with some effort, set them down as gently as she could without harming the Arendellen Queen.
'Goddess, I'm actually making love to a Queen of all people...' she thought with some small amusement, a small smile curling her lips. Before Elsa could ask, Lightning knelt over her. Breath brushing and ghosting over a sensitive neck, she whispered in a heated, raspy tone:
"I'm going to make you scream."
[You leaned back into your comfortable stop, eyes tired from reading this work. You hear a rustle and turn around quickly to spot the perpetrator- Nothing. Save for a fluttering letter that drifted to the ground. Picking it up, you read the cover: 'Author's Note.']
Hello, and welcome good sir/madam or whatever title you prefer. I go by many-many-MANY names, but I much rather prefer to be called The Gentleman With A Cane. This piece was/is an exercise in whether or not I can actually write that illusive-mysterious thing a majority of writers like to call 'Erotica.'
No, not SMUT. Smut is, from what I understand, is Porn without Plot: just something to 'wack' off too. Erotica, on the other-hand is highly-sexual: but actually has Plot.
Understand? Good, well I'll get going now. Leave a review - If you enjoyed or are interested in this. If not then that's alright. However, if your the type of little shit to throw rotten tomatoes at my door then remember this: I live in a manor, deep in the darkest part of the woods, an my hounds are quite hungry...
[Signed with a flourish, with an old penmanship that spoke of an ancient rhyme]
The Gentleman With A Cane