Requestings; take 19

exponible; akesdfjkdf YOU KNOW WHAT aedskfjalkdjfdfj <3

~~~

"This is..." Hijiri started, but fell silent; short of words.

"Awkward?" suggested Hisoka in a very low voice, lifting his shoulders a little, as if trying to guard against something unexpected. Could Muraki be behind this, or...

Subaru said nothing, feeling a little bit dizzy from having to look at two mirror reflections simultaneously. Definitely not Seishirou's trick; he wouldn't do something tasteless like this.
Which left only one option: he wasn't dreaming.

"A restless soul," he said to Hisoka finally, drawing an ofuda. "I'll set you free."

Hijiri hastily stepped in. "No, he's... my guide. And we're... lost, apparently."

Sidesweep; 3

yamikakyuu; because, no, once is not enough. <3

~~~

Mukuro groaned from the power of the blow and veered to the side to dodge the other tonfa coming his way, cloud flames billowing. Not like he stayed behind: illusions were wound tight and he slid in and out of them, striking and missing and striking again. Hibari snarled when the edge of the trident severed yet another lock of hair and charged forward, right into an illusion. Mist flared, dissipated, and formed again.
And then he fell. Down, down, down; but it was an illusion. He never hit the ground. Pain wasn't real.

This was why he hated illusionists.

Sidesweep; 4

lexiluda; oh, you got me started on this. :'D

~~~

Shizuka was nothing short of amazing. How a loser like Jou could have a sister like her was beyond Otogi. And in fact... it didn't even matter because she was here, touching him like that, running her hands along his chest, feather-light touch, warm breath, so... present and intent. He couldn't just lie there, under her, arms lightly bound with his partially removed vest while she straddled him. Although... He really wouldn't mind having her in control. But you know. Couldn't lose the face of a devilish seducer and be seduced by a complete beginner. But, oh, maybe... just tonight...

Sidesweep; 5

daigranon; because you don't get many request!fics. <3

~~~

He must've said something because I-Pin moaned and pressed closer, whispering something in return, but what it was (what it had been), he couldn't make out. Not that it mattered.
Lambo shifted his position, and she shifted, too; skin against skin, breath for breath, closer, closer still. He wouldn't look at her face, couldn't; not with her cheek pressed against his shoulder. She manoeuvred herself into position and he laughed, low rumble in his throat.
"Needy tail-head."
I-Pin didn't respond, didn't punch him. (Impossible; she'd fall if she let go of his shoulders.)
He groaned, found purchase. "Don't let go."