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It's Sunday, so that means the floor is open!

Anything goes -- any fandom, any pairing/grouping, any prompt. From schmoop to kink and everything in between.

In order to help our code monkeys, please remember to format your prompts properly:

For single fandom: Fandom, pairing, word/phrase
Example: BHD, Hoot/Eversmann, late

For a Crossover: Fandom/Fandom, pairing, word/phrase
Example: BDS/SPN, Murphy/Dean, belief

Ready? Go!

Also? Don't forget about our lonely prompts. Check 'em out, try something new, have fun. Who knows...you might find a new fandom. ;)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

ravensword.livejournal.com

*warning for extreme knife kink - penetrative use of hilt*

In this position it is harder to hide what the touch does to him, harder to resist the insistence of his blade, his words, his voice.

On his hands and knees, Steven is more vulnerable somehow, the rope that bound him in his first days of captivity gone. In their place are heavy metal shackles on his wrists, attached to chains that end at the wall above the dirty mat where is left when the pirate is done with him for the time.

His skin is marked. The blade left welts and in places, it dug deeper, leaving scabbed over cuts. There are bruises, around his wrists and ankles from the ropes. There are raised, red patches of angry flesh from candle wax spilled over him.

He's lost track of the man who holds his life in his hands, drags in a breath and listens. The rustle of fabric precedes the thud of a shirt landing on the chair. A hand gathers up the hair that has spilled out of its leather cording, fisting and pulling Steven's head up and back.

Christian's tongue drags over his skin. "Do you surrender?"

Steven shivers, his whole body quaking before he finds his voice. "Fuck you."

The knife touches him, digs a little into his shoulder before trailing down his back. "You still resist?" The hand leaves, his hair, dropping his head forward. "You surprise me. I suppose I simply haven't found your weakness yet. Perhaps its time for something...more."

The way he says the word makes Steven stiffen. His hand on Steven's lower back is too much and just a warning and Steven yells as something is pressed into him, forcing itself into his ass with no warning. He lurches forward, but the pain and fullness follow him, riding him to the floor, pressing his hard cock into the wood beneath him.

"I wouldn't move if I were you, you might hurt yourself. That's just the hilt."

There are footsteps, a door, then silence.

Steven lays there on the floor, his come wet and warm against his stomach, clutching uselessly at the wood beneath his fingers. Tears burn down his cheeks as one hand snakes down his side. He can barely reach his ass, the chain pulled taught, his fingers trembling as they feel up to the knife.

The hilt is buried within him, all the way up to where the blade begins. He hisses in pain as he slices a finger on the sharp edge, pulls his hand away to suck the nick into his mouth.

From:

echoing-dream.livejournal.com

*whimpers* You killed me with the warning... that was... yeah... I'll be in my bunk.
♥

From:

ravensword.livejournal.com

*bows*

I...I don't even know. I just. *points at

havenward* Her fault.

From:

havenward.livejournal.com

::takes the blame. and the punishment. especially if that means there's more...::

From:

ravensword.livejournal.com

You think something like this is going to just...go away?

I've already got all the pieces copied into a word document. *headdesk*

All I can say is you owe me...and I collect on my debts.

From:

havenward.livejournal.com

Yes Boss.... (Knew I was getting in over my head and did it anyway... is it wrong that I'm happy with myself? ... maybe I shouldn't admit that heh ...)