The AO3 Tag Meme [NSFW]

[hauntedasachild]

The Archive Of Our Own Tag Meme



How to Play:
1. Comment with your character and your first 0-3 results from the AO3 Tag Generator.
2. Tag others with your first 1-3 results from the AO3 Tag Generator.
3. Pick the option you think would generate maximum hilarity and play it!


(Now with the right comment settings. Will not be posting from my phone next time.)

Comments

[dominus]

[ Tomorrow sounds great, actually! RL has fallen into my lap today ]

[questionablewit]

[ooc: I liked the assassin/bodyguard modern AU idea that didn't quite happen, so here's more along those lines. But at a Renassaince Fair. Because hilariously inaccurate but it sorta qualifies. ...which is to say, er, here's something! Sorry for the delay, RL hit me too.]

[She's not on the job right now. He'd better not be on the job right now. Though if he is, she's doing an excellent job of distracting him, so there's that. It wasn't part of her training to prevent an assassin from getting to their target by pinning him up against a wall and grinding against him. It should have been, though. She has his collar gripped in her hands to keep his head pulled towards hers, their tongues battling it out the way they've sometimes done with more conventional weapons.

The location is ridiculous, some approximation of a medieval castle built by people who probably never saw a castle outside of a children's book. The clothes they're wearing are even more ridiculous, leather and ruffled shirts, a laced bodice and tight breeches for her, nothing anyone ever really wore. No skirts. She regrets that a bit. Skirts are easy to get out of the way, whereas getting these things undone will be a hassle. She lets go of his collar and lets her hands grip his hips instead, jutting her pelvis against him.

No one's in this tower. But they could be. The sounds of festival-goers are everywhere, white noise in her ears, or maybe that's just the blood rush. She doesn't care, and bites at his lower lip.]

[dominus]

[ Ezio's rogue's hood keeps tipping awkwardly into his eyes. He sweeps it back with impatience, a noise of delight in his throat at the sharp press of her teeth. He hadn't expected to find her here, a welcome distraction in her skintight pants, pants he gets a good feel for when he drops a hand back along her hips and grabs her ass.

The angle isn't quite right but almost there, a deep frisson of heat sparking in that welcome friction of their hips. Anyone could find them like this: necking, grinding into each other like two horny teenagers in their anachronistic garb, an added thrill of danger. Ezio rolls that hand beneath her bottom, cupping her thigh and pulling her leg up, a better angle for his lazy thrusts. ]

[questionablewit]

[It's easy to go along with his hand, let him pull her leg up until she wraps it around his waist. It's also easy to grab his shoulders, brace herself on the wall he's got her pinned against, and lift herself up so both legs are wrapped around him. That's better, that gives her the leverage she wants. Breath hisses between her teeth as she grinds her against him, his hardness against her heat.

The hiss turns into a gasp as he finds the best spot, the one that wants more pressure, and she squeezes her ankles against his back to encourage him to press forward against it. Her nails dig into his shoulders, the cloak he's wearing some protection from damage. That's a pity. She'd like to mark him, leave some scratches for him to wear underneath these delightful, absurd outfits they're in.]