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maverick4oz.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2004-11-30 01:56 pm
maverick4oz.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2004-11-30 01:56 pm
Close by Actizera (NC-17)
Fandom: Oz
Pairing: Beecher/Keller
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
actizera
Author Website:Actizera’s Fiction
Why this must be read:
For my final Rec this month, I am going for all out porn by one of the best writers I have ever had the pleasure to have read, either in or out of fandom. No one writes quite like Actizera whether it be an erotically-charged gem like this one, or an in-depth character study where you suddenly understand the motivations of the characters better through her insight.
She captures the essence of the characters in everything she writes but she also has such a visceral style that you *feel* what the characters feel, you *see* what the characters see, and you *taste* what the characters taste. She transports you *into* the story. You are as transfixed as the characters and she’ll have your mouth watering and your heart racing right along with Chris and Toby.
A couple of days ago, we both stopped bothering with shirts during the day—too warm, not really necessary, and just one more thing we'd have to wash. Chris is shirtless, bootless, and sockless, wearing nothing but a wrinkled pair of pants with the fly hanging halfway open. Muscles in his chest and arms flex and bunch as he spreads shaving cream over his face. I used to wonder whether he was constantly flexing for my benefit, maybe not even consciously—but I know now that his muscles just look that way all the time. Even when he's sleeping.
"Good book there, Beecher?"
I look up from the reflection of Chris's pecs in the mirror to that of his grinning face, now covered in a layer of white lather.
"Riveting."
He laughs and tilts his head upward, swiping the razor slowly from his throat to his chin. "You look a little...distracted."
He's fishing, but I'm not biting. I simply shrug and continue to watch the foam disappear under each stroke of his razor. Not for the first time, I find myself admiring his neck as he swivels and tilts his head first one way, then another. It's fantastically powerful, like the rest of him. I love that I can drive him crazy by licking that sensitive hollow where neck meets chest, by nibbling at the strong rope of muscle that extends from that hollow to his ear, even by just breathing against it the right way. I love watching his neck, his throat in any state of exertion; even better, I love coaxing it into one.
I *really* love watching it when he gives me head.
No one writes smut more vividly, more breathtakingly hot than Actizera. So go read, but I warn you, you just might need a cigarette afterward.
Close
If you like the story, please let the author know. Remember this is Oz, so don’t make me shank you.
Pairing: Beecher/Keller
Author on LJ:
actizeraAuthor Website:Actizera’s Fiction
Why this must be read:
For my final Rec this month, I am going for all out porn by one of the best writers I have ever had the pleasure to have read, either in or out of fandom. No one writes quite like Actizera whether it be an erotically-charged gem like this one, or an in-depth character study where you suddenly understand the motivations of the characters better through her insight.
She captures the essence of the characters in everything she writes but she also has such a visceral style that you *feel* what the characters feel, you *see* what the characters see, and you *taste* what the characters taste. She transports you *into* the story. You are as transfixed as the characters and she’ll have your mouth watering and your heart racing right along with Chris and Toby.
A couple of days ago, we both stopped bothering with shirts during the day—too warm, not really necessary, and just one more thing we'd have to wash. Chris is shirtless, bootless, and sockless, wearing nothing but a wrinkled pair of pants with the fly hanging halfway open. Muscles in his chest and arms flex and bunch as he spreads shaving cream over his face. I used to wonder whether he was constantly flexing for my benefit, maybe not even consciously—but I know now that his muscles just look that way all the time. Even when he's sleeping.
"Good book there, Beecher?"
I look up from the reflection of Chris's pecs in the mirror to that of his grinning face, now covered in a layer of white lather.
"Riveting."
He laughs and tilts his head upward, swiping the razor slowly from his throat to his chin. "You look a little...distracted."
He's fishing, but I'm not biting. I simply shrug and continue to watch the foam disappear under each stroke of his razor. Not for the first time, I find myself admiring his neck as he swivels and tilts his head first one way, then another. It's fantastically powerful, like the rest of him. I love that I can drive him crazy by licking that sensitive hollow where neck meets chest, by nibbling at the strong rope of muscle that extends from that hollow to his ear, even by just breathing against it the right way. I love watching his neck, his throat in any state of exertion; even better, I love coaxing it into one.
I *really* love watching it when he gives me head.
No one writes smut more vividly, more breathtakingly hot than Actizera. So go read, but I warn you, you just might need a cigarette afterward.
Close
If you like the story, please let the author know. Remember this is Oz, so don’t make me shank you.