MONDAY: DARK KINKS

[jemzamia.livejournal.com]

Hello everyone! :D I'm jemzamia and I will be your Guest Host for this week :)

So let's begin the week with Dark Kinks! What's your character's darkest desires? Do they love a bit of knifeplay? Or do they enjoy it when their breath is literally taken away? The more brutal the better I reckon with this!

Please think about our wonderful codemonkeys and use the correct format (the second is for crossovers).

Fandom, Pairing, Prompt
Fandom1/Fandom2, Pairing, Prompt

Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, scapel
Primeval/Doctor Who, Becker/Private Ross Jenkins, gun play
Star Trek VI, Spock/Kirk, punishment

And remember not to post more than 5 prompts in a row and more than 3 prompts per fandom. If a prompt is answered, you can prompt again later in the day.

If you don't see anything you like, you can always Adopt a Lonely Prompt.

Comments

[morgan-cian.livejournal.com]

Jeff slid deeper inside Jared's ass as his hands tightened around the long slender throat. As he breathed out, he pushed into Jared's mouth. He kept a careful eye on Jared fighting against him struggling.

"Easy," he growled, releasing his grip and listening to Jared's gasp. He bucked his hips twice feeling the slick muscles clamping around him. And then he began again, longer each time, watching the flare of frightend nostrils as he pinched them shut.

When Jared came, his whole body locked into the spasm carrying Jeff with him. He kept vigil as Jared fainted in the aftermath. He kissed the bruised neck as he awoke.

"Needed that," Jared said hoarsely as he curled against Jeff.

Jeff knew it. And he was the only one that would give Jared what he needed.

[dearkiki.livejournal.com]

Band of Brothers, Speirs/Nixon, hit me harder

[noxnoctisanima.livejournal.com]

War makes for numbness. The emotional numbness of watching friends explode and bleed and die. The mental numbness of to little sleep, fading away the ability to think. The physical numbness of cold forests and phantom toes.

After Bastogne any feeling Nixon still had faded away like the morning fog, ephemeral and quickly gone. Even Vat 69 no longer burnt as it once had, he was simply empty.

Looking back he wonders why it took him so long to find this solution.

Speirs is holding him hard against a desk, his fingers he knows (pain and memory) are leaving dark bruises on his hips. The hard edge of the desk is pressing sharp and painful into his belly with each jolt. Speirs' cock is to big and to rough and just barely slicked.

And it's prefect.

Sex was never enough, he had tried, it was one single prick of feeling in a dull cloud.

This, this was so much more, the pain broke through the haze, beautiful and sharp and it lingered in the sting in his arse and the bruises on his skin and he craved it, needed it or he'd disappear back into the fog.

[morgan-cian.livejournal.com]

Not dark, more schmoopy. :D

*~*
Jensen stared at the terminal. He was supposed to be in L.A. How the hell had he fucked up this one?

"Problems, boy?"

He shuddered. He knew that voice. Whiskey and sex, turning Jeff stood there with a shit eating grin.

"How? The hell..." Jensen sputtered. His eyes narrowed. "Jared."

"Don't be too hard on him. Consider it a kidnapping." Jeff turned. "You coming?"

Enconsed in Jeff's home, sated with sex and food, Bisou at his feet. "You could have just told me to come."

Jeff kissed his forehead, "More fun this way. The look on your face was priceless."

[dearkiki.livejournal.com]

POTC, Norrington/Becket, boot licking

[myinkyfingers.livejournal.com]

Primeval, Becker/Connor, feathers

[myinkyfingers.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Merlin/Arthur, tie me down

[myinkyfingers.livejournal.com]

RPS, Jared/Jensen, spanking

[dinozzo111.livejournal.com]

NCIS, Dom!Gibbs/sub!DiNozzo, a new piercing(s)

NCIS, Dom!Gibbs/sub!DiNozzo, a new piercing

[donutsweeper.livejournal.com]

As federal agents, especially affiliated with the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" section of society, Tony and Gibbs had to be careful. No matter how much he wanted to, Tony couldn't outwardly show any sign of his devotion to his Dom on a daily basis. A collar was too cumbersome and jewelry was too dangerous considering the number of times they wound up resorting to hand to hand combat to catch their suspect.

It was Gibbs, of course, who came up with the solution. A guiche piercing on his perineum. A small silver bar that was barely noticeable; a person would have get up close and personal with Tony's ass to spot it. So there was no worry about having to answer embarrassing questions about it in the gym, or if he had to change into undercover clothes in close quarters.

But they'd both know it was there. And each and every time Tony lay stretched out on the there would be the slightest tug of Gibbs pulling gently on it, claiming his ownership of what was rightfully his.

[dinozzo111.livejournal.com]

NCIS, Dom!Gibbs/sub!DiNozzo, black leather neck corset

NCIS, Dom!Gibbs/sub!DiNozzo, black leather neck corset

[donutsweeper.livejournal.com]

Gibbs took a deep breath before entering his house. The evening was to be savored, not rushed. He didn't want to bring any stress into his session with his boy. Then, having centered himself, he opened the door, revealing his favorite sight in the world:

Tony. Kneeling on the wood floor. Hands clasped behind his back. Naked except for the silver cock cage and the black leather neck corset.

"Bathroom. Now. You're going to suck me off while I shower. And if you do a good enough job, I just might spank you tonight," he said as walking past Tony without a second glance. Gibbs didn't need to look to know Tony would be on his knees, following, without breaking form.

Tonight was going to be fun.

[hunters-retreat.livejournal.com]

Dark Angel, Alec/Logan, sensory deprivation

[csichick-2.livejournal.com]

Alec can't help but tense as Logan blindfolds him. He trusts Logan with his life, but this is a completely new experience for him. Ever since leaving Manticore, he's had to be the one in control to make up for the 20 years he was simply a pawn. Technically he still is in control, as he can stop things with just one word, but he feels so helpless. Logan's soothing words calm him and once the older man has him writhing in pleasure underneath him, Alec understands just why Logan assumed he would like this so much.

[hunters-retreat.livejournal.com]

SPN, Dean/Sam, blood letting

[emerald-embers.livejournal.com]

At first he tells himself it's normal, just a natural desire to get the demon blood out of him now that he knows he doesn't need it. And he's sensible enough, as far as he's concerned; wears long sleeves, keeps the wounds clean, eats and drinks more than usual so he's making up for the blood loss.

He should've known better than to think Dean wouldn't notice, even if it's not the scars that give it away; he's careless one day, bleeds a little too much, and Dean freezes in the middle of riding him, pulls lightly at his lower eyelid with his thumb. "When'd you get cut?" Dean asks, and when Sam doesn't answer, both sleeves get shoved up, the too-tidy scars exposed, varying degrees of age too obvious when looked at closely.

Sam waits for the swearing, the punching, waits for the inevitable fight, but ends up shivering when Dean's eyes fixate on the most recent wound and he licks and sucks at the line until it reopens.

Demon blood won't do anything for Dean, hadn't done anything for Sam when he'd had powers, but Dean still sucks until there's blood smeared all around his lips before leaning down and kissing Sam brutally, grinding his erection against Sam's belly and fucking himself harder on Sam's cock.

It's only after Sam comes that Dean pulls back from the kiss, eyes dilated and wild, and makes a promise as he fists his own cock.

"We'll get that demon bitch out of you yet, Sammy."

[hunters-retreat.livejournal.com]

TSCC, Derek/John, bloody family tree

[daria234.livejournal.com]

"Homework, kid?"

"Don't call me kid."

The kid was in one of his moods. But as Derek looked over his shoulder at the blank sheet, he could see why. "Family tree."

"It's stupid. We learn what exactly from writing down who our ancestors fucked and when they died?"

Derek paused before replying, "Sometimes it's nice to imagine there's continuity."

"Yeah, if you think you're going to get grow your own branches."

"Hey, what's with the tree metaphor anyway? They just assume that everyone's family exists in linear time? That seem really politically incorrect."

John cracked a smile, "Yeah, totally close-minded. We're more like a coral reef, or one of those vines that circle back in on itself."

"You should really petition the school for more diversity in its botanical metaphors."

"Yeah," said John. "Maybe I'll just have Cameron do my homework."

Derek sat down next to John, his larger body close and warm. "Nah, metal's no good at lying. Let the expert do it."

After John Baum's family history had been successfully recorded, John stared at it for awhile. He started to tear up and looked away from Derek.

But Derek's hand appeared on John's chin and gently turned his face back. "What is it?"

John tried to smile. "You said my great-grandfather's name is Kyle Baum."

"Yeah, well, I just wanted him in there."

"You know my mother only knew him one night."

Damn. That was all his brother got of love and happiness? "No. I didn't know," Derek said, trying to give no feeling away.

"I only slept with Riley once. The night before she died. I'm not saying it's the same, I'm not saying that I loved her for sure, I just - " John started to break down, "I think that's my real family tree. You get one moment of happiness, and that's it. It's like in our genes or something."

Derek felt that familiar voice in his head, telling him to give John a speech, to remind him that he had more damn important things to do than feel sorry for himself. But for once, he pushed that voice out of his head. No fucking way he lets John go his whole life thinking that sex was some kind of curse. It was the one thing that was still good even after Judgment Day.

Swallowing to get his nerve up, Derek leaned over to John and pressed his lips on his. He slowly worked his tongue into John's mouth, his hand on the back of John's head.

John looked at him in astonishment. But he was definitely interested, as Derek knew he would be. In the future, John had taught Derek everything he liked, and Derek sure hadn't forgotten.

"It's okay," Derek promised, and John nodded, with an ease of trust that would take Derek months to earn in the future. But this John let Derek take his hand and lead him to Derek's room, dingy but private. This John let Derek slowly pull off his clothes and gently run his hand all over John's torso. Soon, John was tasting Derek's skin, his lips, his neck, his shoulders and back. And soon, John felt Derek's tight body clench around him as he hurtled toward a swift, almost violent orgasm. And then he felt arms, arms and Derek's face next to his, and Derek's whispered voice telling him that they were okay, that John was perfect, that the family tree was more than just blood and things taken away. That he should never be afraid to love or to live.

John fell to sleep soon after, but he heard these words, and he remembered them. He even believed them for a few days, until he found Derek on the floor of Catherine Weaver's house.

[dinozzo111.livejournal.com]

NCIS, Gibbs/DiNozzo, gun play

[pipisafoat]

JESUS FUCK. I saw the prompt and got all excited, but then there wasn't fic. :(

(No promises, but I'm brainstorming. Mostly I keep getting distracted by the visuals...)

[jemzamia.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, scapel

[jemzamia.livejournal.com]

Primeval/Doctor Who, Becker/Private Ross Jenkins, gun play

[jemzamia.livejournal.com]

Star Trek VI, Spock/Kirk, punishment

[canadiangoddess.livejournal.com]

It got too big so I've linked it

HERE (http://canadiangoddess.livejournal.com/58412.html#cutid2)

It is a sequel to another CF that I did but they're posted in the same entry...you just have to scroll to the top of the page.

[hunters-retreat.livejournal.com]

Fringe/SPN, Peter/Dean, bruises

[merihn.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Merlin/Arthur/Lancelot, lick up the blood...

Lick up the blood..., Merlin, Merlin/Arthur/Lancelot

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

Heh...wow, this prompt's old! Uhm...have some fic? ^_~ Also, have lost my Merlin icon...somehow. Grr...



Arthur holds Merlin back, twisting Merlin's arms behind his back and holding on as Merlin mewls and struggles. Merlin's eyes are big and dark and fixed on Lancelot where the knight's tied to Arthur's bed.

When Merlin entered - and he'd entered without knocking, as usual, because he was always looking for reasons to make Arthur take the soft leather strap to that pale skin of his...like Arthur needed reasons to mark him up, not when Merlin always wriggled so happily during it and purred when Arthur pressed his nails to the welts afterwards... He'd slammed the door open and pushed it shut again with his magic absentmindedly when he'd realised what Arthur had been scratching into the skin of Lancelot's chest with the wickedly sharp knife he held in his hand.

The Pendragon crest - as re-designed by Merlin. The golden dragon with Arthur's crown circling its belly as it reared up on its haunches. Drawn in blood, now, and Lancelot looking up at Arthur with such devotion...

Which leads to this - Arthur off the bed, knife falling to the floor and holding Merlin back even as Merlin bucks and rubs back against him. Arthur laughs and hauls Merlin closer, nipping at the line of Merlin's throat.

"So easy, Merlin," he taunts and Merlin tilts his head back against Arthur's shoulder and peeks at Lancelot. Arthur's still got blood on his fingers from where he rubbed at the marks he was making and smoothed Lancelot's own sweat into the raw scratches. He holds Merlin's wrists in one hand - deceptively thin and weak-looking, that's his Merlin - and lifts the other to Merlin's mouth to watch him suckle at Arthur's fingers like a newborn seeking its mother's tit.

"More..." Merlin hisses, eyes flashing gold as he starts to lose his fragile hold on his control and Arthur looks over at Lancelot and whispers close to Merlin's ear.

"Go on, then," he says, "go and show Lancelot our appreciation. Lick up his blood and make him buck and beg under your tongue."

Merlin groans and stumbles forward when Arthur releases him. He pulls off his clothes clumsily as he hurries for the bed and Lancelot strains up against the ties keeping him down, his mouth seeking out Merlin's for a kiss before Merlin slides down the length of the knight's body, tongue at play - teeth too, from the noises Lancelot's making.

Arthur grins, completely happy in this moment as he watches his Knight and his...his Own play on his bed. He settles in a fur-covered chair and reaches for the wine with one hand, the other already ghosting down to brush over the front of his trousers...

[jemzamia.livejournal.com]

Heroes, Peter/Sylar, asphyxiation

[johnboy91719.livejournal.com]

OK, so I wasn't sure if I was going to go with Peter/Sylar as a couple doing S&M play or if I was going to go with something darker. Apparently darker won out. Hope you like.

Warning: Dub-con, although could potentially be non-con depending on how you look at it.

Sylar's eyebrow raised in curiosity as he noticed the growing bulge in Peter's pants as Peter was being choked to death. His cocked eyebrow was quickly replaces by a sinister smile on his lips. And that's when Peter got really scared.

"Well, well, well. Who knew that you were so kinky, Peter? I was just going to kill you to get you out of my way, but I have a more... pleasurable idea."

If Peter could have gulped he would have. Hell, he would have done anything right about then to get out of this invisible chokehold, but he couldn't. He was totally helpless to whatever Sylar was planning.

"Oh, don't look so scared. I assure you that this will hurt you much more than it will hurt me... Oops. I guess you should be scared."

With a flick of Sylar's hand, Peter's jeans tore away from his body, exposing his throbbing erection. Another flick and the shirt was gone. Sylar walked up closer and slid his fingers down Peter's chest and abdomen, while increasing the pressure on Peter's throat. Peter shuddered, half in fear and half in barely contained pleasure.

"Ah, that's just the reaction I was hoping for."

Sylar then crushed his lips against Peter's for a bruising kiss and started to lick his way down Peter's body, relishing the taste of sweat-mingled fear. His tongue danced down Peter's neck and Adam's apple, torturously making its way towards his nipple. Sylar nipped just hard enough to cause that pleasurable pain but not enough to draw blood. No, Sylar wasn't looking for blood. He had other plans in mind.

He dipped lower and lower until his mouth was inches away from Peter's dribbling cock. Sylar blew ever so softly on the head of Peter's cock, causing Peter to groan. Peter looked into Sylar's eyes, begging him to continue. He couldn't well stop now, so he opened his mouth and stretched his tongue to barely lap at the precum oozing from Peter. Then in one quick motion, he took Peter all the way into his mouth. As he did that, he also sent a telekinetic pulse to Peter's puckering hole and opened him up a bit.

Sylar took his sweet time bringing Peter close to orgasm, but backing off just slightly. For what seemed like hours, he would bring Peter just to the brink and then stop to let Peter rest. It was the worst, yet best, kind of torture.

Once Sylar had had his fill of playing with Peter, and had cum himself once, he decided to finish the plan once and for all. His sucking became more enthusiastic until Peter was seconds away from shooting. When Sylar sensed that Peter was about to blow, he stopped and rose to his feet.

Peter collapsed to the ground as the chokehold suddenly released, and he found his hands trapped behind his back. Sylar turned and started walking out of the room.

"Thanks for the fun, Pete, but I really do need to get going. Places to go, people to kill, you know. And this," he said, looking directly at Peter's saliva-slicked hard-on that was practically begging to be touched, "will keep you out of my way for a bit while I go about my business. Maybe if you’re a good boy, I'll come back and help you relieve some of that tension. But I can't let you do that for yourself. You need to be punished for getting in my way."

With that, Sylar walked out and the door slammed behind him. Peter curled into the fetal position, shuddering, sobbing, and screaming Sylar's name begging him to come back and finish him off one way or another. Sylar, hearing this, laughed evilly and continued his quest to find more powers.

[gsr-rocks.livejournal.com]

Dollhouse, top!Claire/Adelle, bad girl

[pinknoisewaltz.livejournal.com]

(To be honest I don't really like this. It ends in a whole different place than it began, and the style changes drastically with the tone, so, yeah, kind of blah. Also I'm not entirely certain that this constitutes top!Claire, and my stupid OCD about word count probably makes matters worse. BUT GIRL, I AM SO TIRED, AND NO MATTER WHAT I ATTEMPT TO WRITE, IT WILL ALWAYS TURN OUT AS PORNY ANGST. Okay, I'll stop being emo and just post the damn thing. Hopefully you'll enjoy it, even a little.<3)

Adelle DeWitt has always been a very dignified person, capable of acting distinguished in almost any situation. Which is why she was a bit surprised to find herself bent over her desk with her skirt crudely bunched around her waist and her panties yanked halfway down her legs, though how exactly she ended up this way was is very high on her list of priorities at the moment.

The sound of Claire’s palm smacking against her exposed backside, however, is a most important consideration.

Adelle moans loudly as the younger woman slaps the sensitized flesh again, harder this time, before soothingly running her hand over the reddened skin. “Do you want more?” Claire asks, voice soft. Adelle nods, cheek pressed against the cool wood of her desk. “Yes,” she breathes.

Claire scratches blunt fingernails down Adelle’s behind, watches as the older woman struggles to keep still. She draws her hand back and collides it with Adelle’s flesh again, eliciting a sharp cry from her.

“Why do you have me do this, hurt you?” the doctor whispers, trailing her fingertips over Adelle’s skin. “I deserve far worse,” the older woman sighs, the same answer she gives Claire every time she asks.

[strg8g33k.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who, The Master/Jack, bondage

(Bonus points if it's set during Last of the Time Lords. :P)

[emerald-embers.livejournal.com]

Let it never be said Jack Harkness didn't know how to make the best of a bad situation; and being chained up in the middle of what pretty much counted as an apocalypse while two Time Lords had a battle of wills over the best way to use something close to ultimate power definitely counted as a pretty bad situation.

On the other hand, he'd had some fairly cute guards in the months he'd been chained up, and the Master had mostly tired of killing him back in February. Mostly.

Still, it wasn't as if all the deaths were bullet-to-the-side-and-wound-left-to-rot horrible. When you were immortal your definition of 'a good time' had to shift quite severely.

This was a good time; the Master's decidedly good looking current form shifting the chains down lower so he could settle Jack's legs around his waist without needing to support them properly, freeing up a hand to crush Jack's neck.

Admittedly, it wasn't as much fun as when Tuesday's Mary had started to give him free rides, or the memorable occasion when Thursday's John had decided it was okay to suck him off just-this-once-but-that-didn't-make-him-a-fag. He still enjoyed getting to wink over at John and watch him flush red and cough; still took some pleasure in teasing the twenty-first century mortals about their morals and categories.

But he had to hand it to the Master; he knew what he was doing - couple of hundred years of experience, so no real surprise there - and when he wanted it to be good, it was really fucking good. Jack tended not to focus so much on the not-so-good days. But yeah - the good days, where he was left wrung out, sweating, shivering and, sometimes, admittedly, begging? He could see a reason or two why the Doctor still gave a damn about this guy, even if he had his own suspicions there was nothing sane left there to recover.

But yes; Jack was damn good at making the best of a bad situation.

And asphyxiation play got a whole lot kinkier when there was a fifty-fifty chance the person fucking you actually intended to kill you in the process.

[merihn.livejournal.com]

Primeval, Connor/Becker, blood and bruises.

Blood and bruises, Primeval, Connor/Becker

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

Y, hello Primeval-fandom! How I've missed thee! ^_^




It's sick, Becker thinks. Sick and wrong and disgusting that he likes it when Connor's ruffled and a little beat up and a little bruised and battered. He shouldn't want to wrap his fingers around Connor's wrist where bruises are coming up dark and purple and squeeze just enough to make Connor's eyes dark and wanting.

Shouldn't want to run his thumbnail down a cleaned-and-dressed scratch to make blood spring to the surface again so that he can lick at Connor and feel the other man shiver under his touch.

Shouldn't want to make Connor buck against him and writhe and beg as he presses against fresh bruises and rubs up between Connor's legs.

Shouldn't want to, but, oh, how he does.

So he backs away from Connor and lets Abby move in first when Connor gets injured out in the field and he pretends that his mouth isn't dry and his fingers aren't twitching when Connor fiddles with his scarves to cover the marks on his pale skin. Because if Connor knew what Becker wanted to do to him, he'd run away and tell and never speak to Becker again and rightly so, really, because what Becker wants isn't something that any sane, morally upstanding member of society should want, is it?

He's become fantastic at denying himself his own desires over the years, but it's impossible to tell himself he doesn't want, doesn't need, when Connor's in front of him and fidgeting, all wide eyes and biting at his bottom lip. When Connor's whispering low and fast, spilling out every one of Becker's deepest, darkest wants and claiming that they're his own.

"Enough!" Becker hisses, shoving at Connor and pinning him against the wall. Connor yelps a little at the contact but he doesn't fight Becker's hold. "Did Abby put you up to this?"

"No, no one did. I swear. Please, Becker," Connor says, now twisting a little. "Please..."

And, oh. Oh.

Connor's eyes are big and darker than they usually are and he's bucking up against Becker's leg where it's pressed between his thighs and he's panting with his head back against the wall. Which exposes the line of his neck even if he's still wearing one of his ridiculous scarves.

There's resisting temptation, and then there's just plain insanity.

Besides, admiring marks from accidents and dinosaur attacks and Connor's clumsiness is all very well, but what Becker really, really wants is to bite at the line of Connor's throat and run his nails down Connor's back and press his fingers in at Connor's hips and hold him tight and close and make Connor beg.

So, he does.

[gaffsie.livejournal.com]

SGA/SG1, John/Cam, punishment

SGA/SG1, John/Cam, punishment

[donutsweeper.livejournal.com]

"I hear you've been a bad boy," Cam leaned over and purred into John's ear.

John locked into position, bent over the spanking table, knew better than to answer.

"You had to know I wouldn't tolerate that sort of behavior from you." Cam sighed, reaching over and grabbing John's balls in his hand. "I thought we were past me having to do this to you," he said as he snapped the metal ring of the ball stretcher closed. "I think one pound to start, don't you?" John barely twitched as Cam attached the weights.

Then Cam picked up the flogger and two-tailed leather tawse. "Ten of each. Count them out." He ran the tips of the flogger over John's balls and thighs, teasing them, before bringing it down hard on his ass three times in a row.

"One!" John gasped out. "Two! Three!"

Cam halted before the next stroke. "Where's my thank you? I really thought I trained you better than this." He added another set of weights to the ball stretcher, tripling the weight and went over to the cabinet, bringing back a set of nipple clamps. Other than his mouth tightly clamped shut, John gave no outward sign of discomfort when Cam attached the heavy clamps.

He picked back up the flogger. "Start from the beginning, boy. We'll do this as many times as it takes for you to get it right."

[gaffsie.livejournal.com]

SGA, John/Ronon, wax play

[me-ya-ri.livejournal.com]

"There," Ronon said, smiling at the way John shivered as he wiped the oil off of John's body. "All ready now."

"Ronon," John moaned, swallowing hard. He tugged at the ropes binding his hands to the wall. They didn't give. His legs tensed but didn't move from the way he'd been spread open. Ronon's knots around his ankles weren't going to budge.

"Hush," Ronon said, leaning over to lick John's nipple. "Let me get the candles."

"Please." John's voice broke as he pleaded, his hips bucking up into the air.

Ronon smiled, getting the colorful candles that they'd gathered over the last several months. It wasn't often that they had the guarantee of a night free. Wax play wasn't quick either to set up or to clean up. Ronon lit the first candle, letting the wax melt before he slowly held it over John's chest.

"You ready?" Ronon asked.

"Yes," John breathed, panting. He licked his lips, watching the flame of the candle instead of Ronon's face. "Please."

Ronon smiled, tilting the candle and letting the wax slowly drip down onto John's body. He held the candle high, a yard over John's body, so that the wax would cool somewhat before it hit his body. John gasped and groaned as the first drop hit his stomach. He whined, raising his hips as if trying to get closer to the candle. Ronon chuckled and let another drop of wax fall onto him in a different spot. He continued adding streams of wax over John's body, painting his chest in streamers of gold and green. He covered John's stomach with blues. His thighs were painted red.

"Ronon!" John growled eventually, his eyes desperate.

"What?" Ronon asked, grinning at John's struggles against the ropes. "Did I miss a spot?"

"Ronon!!!"

Ronon laughed, lighting the white candle. He slowly dripped wax over John's balls, holding the candle lower so the wax was hotter as it hit. John started cursing, his eyes shut tight. He held perfectly still, waiting for each drop of wax to hit his genitals. Ronon took his time covering John's cock with white wax from the base to the tip. John moaned constantly, his eyes flying open as the wax finally hit the tip of his cock and dripped into the opening.

"Ahhhn!" John shouted, coming explosively over the wax covering his stomach. "Uhhh. Oh fuck. Ronon!"

Ronon set the candle aside and grinned at John. He bent close and kissed him tenderly. The smell of wax and fire filled the room, mixing with John's scent. Ronon smiled. He'd thought it was a weird kink at first but now he thought he might understand at least a little of why John loved it so much.

"You're beautiful," Ronon whispered. "My own work of art."

[merihn.livejournal.com]

Dollhouse, Topher/Boyd, gun!kink.