Kate Monkey (
katemonkey.livejournal.com) wrote in
crack_van2010-12-13 09:51 pm
Entry tags:
Skip The Sangria, by Jules (NC-17)
Fandom: The Losers
Pairing: Aisha/Clay
Length: 768
Author on LJ:
cidercupcakes
Author's Website: AO3
Why this must be read:
This is just all the right levels of filthy. Aisha and Clay and heat, the heat of the sun, the heat of alcohol, the heat of sex, and the heat of knowing you've met your match.
It's short and sweet and intense, with such vivid luscious images and sensations. You can feel the sunlight and heat on your face as you read this - or are you secretly blushing? All you know is that it's suddenly gotten hotter in here.
And it's got Aisha pegging Clay, which is just...hell, it's just awesome.
Excerpt:
Spain, and the windows and shutters were open because they'd just spent three weeks in the Pacific Northwest and now Aisha needed the goddamned sunlight. Spain, and the golden afternoon light fell in hot bright pools on the carpet and even the air was warm on her back, the sometimes-wind cooling as it met their sweat. But any work the breeze may have done was in vain, because they were fucking hard enough to keep themselves sweat-soaked, and as hot as the air was, Clay was even hotter around the fingers of her right hand.
Skip The Sangria
Pairing: Aisha/Clay
Length: 768
Author on LJ:
Author's Website: AO3
Why this must be read:
This is just all the right levels of filthy. Aisha and Clay and heat, the heat of the sun, the heat of alcohol, the heat of sex, and the heat of knowing you've met your match.
It's short and sweet and intense, with such vivid luscious images and sensations. You can feel the sunlight and heat on your face as you read this - or are you secretly blushing? All you know is that it's suddenly gotten hotter in here.
And it's got Aisha pegging Clay, which is just...hell, it's just awesome.
Excerpt:
Spain, and the windows and shutters were open because they'd just spent three weeks in the Pacific Northwest and now Aisha needed the goddamned sunlight. Spain, and the golden afternoon light fell in hot bright pools on the carpet and even the air was warm on her back, the sometimes-wind cooling as it met their sweat. But any work the breeze may have done was in vain, because they were fucking hard enough to keep themselves sweat-soaked, and as hot as the air was, Clay was even hotter around the fingers of her right hand.
Skip The Sangria
