dresden_kink | Round Four IS CLOSED

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closed,
round four

Round Four IS CLOSED

Round Four is closed to new prompts and fills. Go to Round Five

| Round One: open only for feedback, WIPs continued in The Overflow Post or Round Four |
| Round Two: open only for feedback, WIPs continued in The Overflow Post or Round Four |
| Round Three: open only for feedback and WIPs continuation |
| if you previously continued your WIP in The Overflow Post or Round Four, keep going where ever you like, just link link link! |

Round Four: Closed

Read this first. Do it. It's not here to be pretty.

The Rules. Including the Posting Guidelines. aka:

In the first line of your fill, please include:

Character(s)/Pairing(s)/Threesome(s)/Moresome(s) as applicable; Any kinks included; MANDATORY WARNINGS if there is dubcon or noncon, underage characters in sexual situations, and/or major character death. Please don't conflate warnings and kinks; treat each individually, and use your pairings to indicate gen/het/slash/multi/&c. Do not warn for het, slash, or otherwise.

For images: Please post image prompts and fills with alt tag descriptions or with a text description of the piece. Example: [img src="neked.jpg" alt="Here's John being all hot and half naked saying Dresden et cetera et cetera"]. If you are linking to an external image, please include a description with the link.

Thank you.

The discussion post is here. Mod questions go here. The delicious account is here.

Don't forget about all the unfilled prompts. Got an unfilled prompt you want to give a second chance? Repost it here. Otherwise, go ahead and repost an unfilled prompt as a new comment with a link to the original if you are filling it.

Comments in chronological order: http://dresden-kink.dreamwidth.org/2675.html?view=flat

Any prompts, fills, discussion, or meta featuring authentic Ghost Story spoilers should be posted on the Ghost Story post.

ROUND FOUR IS CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS AND FILLS. GO TO ROUND FIVE. YOU CAN CONTINUE YOUR ROUND FOUR WIPS HERE.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

When John came through the door everything was too bright, too loud. I had come to the edge and been shoved back from it half a dozen times. I felt swollen and...too much. John's footsteps, bare feet on soft carpet rushed against my ears, the clack of the lock like a shot in the night. He walked around me, not even stopping to look and I could hear the sounds of him in the bathroom, stripping off his clothes, the cloth a hush of sound over his skin. Water ran, rain on a roof, loud and drilling into my skull and I rolled my hips, my erection bobbing, slapping gently against my thighs, my stomach.

The shower started up and I swallowed a scream, my hands leaving their places on my thighs and fumbling toward my weeping sex. Maybe when he was distracted I could touch. It happened like that sometimes.

John's voice laughed near my ear and his hand, rough with calluses from his gun was suddenly clamped around my throat, bending me back and back until I was lying with my knees and shoulder blades on the carpet. Green eyes blazed down at me as I moaned, my hands gripping his wrist, squeezing and moving slowly up and down his forearm, showing him what I wanted to be doing to myself. I shuddered, took in a deep breath and closed my eyes, letting go and falling into the wave of control that John swept into me.

The burn of my legs melted away, still present, but it deepened into something else, something better that coursed through my entire body. I was hot, flushed all over. My head swam until there was nothing to hold on to but John. The bedrock certainty of him within me, surrounding me. His hand tightened on my throat, slowly. Gently. My breaths came faster, shallow and I arched my hips up, begging. John let me go with one final squeeze. I lay there, my heart racing, trying to breathe slowly even as every inch of me tingled beneath his gaze and begged for more.

Hands, too rough for a soft businessman pulled my wrists together, the colder then my skin press of the leather cuffs welcome as pure sensation. Everything felt good like this, in this place where there was no thought. John tugged on the short chain between the cuffs and I rose, my limbs feeling like they belonged to someone else, someone who had to worry about flesh and moving and all of those little things that couldn't touch me.

“You didn't chose anything else?”

I shook my head. Speaking was...too much effort. I didn't want anything between us. It was better when it was just John, the harsh sting of his flesh against mine, the faint give as his hand came down on me, the sounds so very like the ones that closed in around me when we had sex, when he pinned me down and just took, ripping my need and lust out of my body one thrust at a time.

John sat in the single straight backed chair and I caught a glimpse of his erection before he pulled me down onto his lap, my hands resting on the floor, his thigh pressed firmly into my chest, my stomach. I rolled my hips and stroked myself over the soft hairs of his thigh. He made a faintly displeased sound and took hold of my hips, lifting and then gripping my erection, pinning it between his leg and my stomach. I scrambled to get my feet under me to keep my full weight from coming down on his leg. It was John's turn to shift and roll a little, dragging his erection over my side. I did my best to press into it.

I could feel John smile as he dropped one hand like a stone into the space between my shoulder blades. The other hand cupped the curve of my ass, his fingers spearing into me dry, the burning rasp of it sending twists of pain through me, making my cock jump and spurt a little. I imagined it dribbling over John's leg, hot and wet, marking him as mine, just for a few minutes. My neck burned from holding it up and I let it drop, giving myself a view of John's legs and beyond them my own, the muscles standing out from the faint strain of holding my position.

He swung full out, each and every blow. John didn't use a flat hand, not for this. He cupped his hand slightly, just enough that my flesh had to jump to meet him, yearning for him just as much as my mind. Ten. Ten wasn't very many, and John had to make them count. Somehow he did, making it last forever, the harsh impact, the flash of heat and pain that spread through me, filling every corner and driving out any last lingering thoughts that clung there.

My world spiralled down to John and the drag of skin against skin, the muffled sounds that escaped even through my clenched teeth until the escalated into full throated yells. I felt John concentrate, felt him drive a thought into me seconds before it bloomed in front of my eyes.

The long line of my back, taut and stretched out for him, pale skin lightly glistening with sweat, beads of it rolling down the notched channel of my spine. My legs, awkward in their angle, trembling now, presenting my ass to him. I could see the riot of color that marked me, pale pink at the edges, deeper reds as if my flesh would burst into flame at any second. I watched his hand come down again and tensed even as I arched up to meet the blow, the strange double sensation of feeling his hand on me and feeling the impact as it spiked up his arm digging into my mind, making me whine and babble, my eyes squeezed tightly shut. The image didn't leave me.

I watched and felt from two sides as he hit me again and again, the red skin white before the red blossomed again, hotter and more brilliant than before. He rubbed his palm over the sensitive skin and then his hand was spreading me open, baring my hole, the vulnerable tautness of my balls. Words rushed out of me. I begged, though I couldn't tell what I was begging for.

John gave me a long, long moment to anticipate the blow, and then it came. I screamed, pain cutting through the heavy thick haze of pleasure that had swallowed me whole. It pushed at me, carried me away to somewhere else, somewhere empty and peacefully quiet. I felt movement, distant and unimportant. Hands squeezed, fingers digging in and there followed a sense of completion, of being open and full. Filled with John, his body and his mind taking over everything, making me his all over again. Taking the broken and wrong pieces and making them better, making them good and useful.

I drifted away on that, knowing that John was there and that he had me.

~

I couldn't see very well, but that was okay. It wasn't the absolute black of a hood or a blindfold, merely the dim lighting of John's room in the middle of the night. Secret and safe. A place where anything could be had because there was no one there to see or judge.

There was someone sitting on the end of the bed, watching me. The lighting was good enough that I should have been able to see his face, recognize him, but I couldn't. There was something nebulous and unformed about him. I could feel myself blushing, uncomfortable and embarrassed under his gaze. But somehow aroused because of it. That he should watch me like that, all of his attention on me. Only John had ever paid me that much attention, loved me that deeply. The man smiled, a flash of white in the darkness and beckoned to me with one large hand. I dropped to my knees, because it seemed like the right thing to do, and crawled across the carpet to him.

“No, no. Not like that Harry.” His hands were there, cupping my arms, lifting me to my feet. I wanted to lean into the strength I felt there. He was...he was so much.

“But that's...please.” I pulled my arm from his gentle grip and fingered the collar tight around my throat. I struggled to move in his gentle but unmoving grip, to touch him. My fingers brushed his chin, his jaw and then I was pressing my palms into his flesh. His face, unclear until that second, formed beneath my hands. My eyes went wide and I jerked back, fear and betrayal low in my stomach.

“Who- No. We can't. John. I love John. I'm his. And you- You can't do this to him!”

Nate smiled at me, sad and loving all at the same time.

“Harry.”

“No.”

“You love me.”

“I love John.”

“Yes. You love us both.”

“It's okay Harry.” I jumped and spun around to see John in his chair, naked and glorious, a king. Huge, warm hands pressed gently to my shoulders and then they were on the collar. My own hands flew up to meet them. No one touched the collar but John. It...came off in Nate's hands, crumbling to rust that fell across my bare shoulders like fine sand.

I gasped and stepped away from him, my throat and shoulders oddly light, a strange floating feeling stealing over me. My fingers traced the thin band of scar tissue at the base of my neck over and over again. I ran them lightly up over the inch or so of skin that hadn't felt any touch but the cold metal of the collar in nearly a decade.

“You see? Free.” I leapt at Nathan and he caught me, his hands so large that he could wrap them entirely around my waist. “Not John's. Not mine. Just yours.”

My hands found his hair, so short that there was nothing to hold on to, the soft bristle of it delicious against my palms. I wrapped my legs around him and kissed him, want and understanding pouring out of me and into him. Why hadn't I seen it before? What he meant. Not just to John, but to me. It wasn't a new thought, it was like a jewel that had been there all along, buried deep until just now.

Another body pressed up against my back, smaller hands running up my sides, my chest, sliding between us and just touching. Lips against my shoulders, teeth nipping at the curve of my spine, sucking biting kisses into my flesh.

“Ours. You could be ours.”

The thought burned me. Theirs. My own, but theirs too. Wouldn't that be perfect? I said yes and let my head fall back onto John's shoulder. We kissed, deep and desperate, trying to breathe one another in.

We were on the bed, John beneath me. My hands were cuffed again, stretched up over my head, but not tight. There was no pain as I drove myself down onto him, the angle so deep that I could feel him in my throat, taste him there. Huge hands braced themselves on my shoulders and I leaned forward just a little, the new angle making me lose some of John, an emptiness that made me want to scream. The chains pulled at my arms, the angle harsh and a little awkward and they burned a little, but it was all a part of it, the heat and the dizziness as if there wasn't enough air in the world for me.

Fingers, broad and firm, stretched me around John and then they were inside of me even while he was. John's hand clamped over my mouth, smothering the shocked shout that clawed at my throat. More fingers and then they were gone, replaced too quickly with something else. I shook my head, whining, biting at the palm of John's hand. It was too big. It would never fit. Not inside of me.

I wanted to beg, but reality burned down to the light of John's eyes, brilliant green emeralds in his face and the emptiness inside of me in spite of John still fucking me, shallower than I wanted, than I needed. And then Nate was there, his monstrous cock spreading me wider than I'd ever thought I could be spread. They found a pace immediately, fucking me together as though they'd been doing it their entire lives, keeping me in that place where my body was both tense enough to shatter and pliant enough that they could do anything they wanted.

It was bliss. Nirvana. Heaven. Perfection found between the heavy, muscled bodies of the men I loved. I tried to meet their thrusts, to show them how much I wanted this. Wanted them.

A pair of hands, Johns I thought, clamped down on my hips, holding me still with impossible force. More hands on my shoulders kept me from getting any leverage to fight. I screamed and wept as they kept going. My orgasm took me by surprise, coming at the rare perfect instance where they were both deep inside of me. They laughed, deep, and it rumble through me, drawing out more and more from me.

Nate's hand came around from behind me and pressed carefully into my windpipe. John's hand clamped onto the back of my neck, drawing me down. My lips parted and I panted, spent and waiting, ready for them to come inside of me. They moved together, one mind, two bodies and the collar of their hands grew tighter, until I was lightheaded, the room spinning in front of my eyes.

They came inside of me, together, as it should always be. There was a flood of heat that spread through me, touched every nerve. I gasped and jerked between them, shaking apart until only the heat from them was holding me together, the focus of my being their hands on the sensitive skin of my throat.

Something brushed against my mind and I rolled my head as far as I could in their grip, my eyes cracking open the barest inch. There was a woman standing beside the bed, long blonde hair waving in a wind that I couldn't feel. She smiled at me and touched two fingers to the middle of my forehead. I came again, tiny spurts that milked me dry even as the pleasure burned away everything else.

~

I woke, moaning and humping against John's hip. I'd coated him, the sheets tangled around our legs, wet and messy.

“Shit.” I fought to stop, but it was impossible. So good. The huge, throbbing ache of my ass, the corded muscle of his leg beneath me, pliant with sleep and wet with my come, the echoes of incredible pleasure from my dream still riding me. When it was over I choked out a tiny, satisfied whimper and collapsed. Part of my brain, a part that sounded frighteningly like John, pointed out that I was sticky and gross and needed to get up and wash off. The rest of me was wracked with tiny tremors, flailing around for something to hold onto.

John was still asleep, the feel of him inside of my mind the same low, background hum as always. I put my head on his chest and listened to his heart beating, a drum marking out the beat of my life.

The details of the dream were starting to fade, as they always did. There had been John, of course. And sex. That wasn't anything new, though it had been something more intense than usual, I knew. I didn't tend to wake up humping the bed, or John.

After all, I wasn't fifteen anymore. Eb's voice came up from somewhere deep inside of me, dry and empty, a voice from the tombs. No sex, Hoss. Not even self exploration. You don't need that. One of the first orders he'd ever given me. And I hadn't needed it. I hadn't wanted it or even had a thought of it until John had come and given me back my life. Something inside of me shuddered, the part that still remembered what it had been like to live with Eb, simple and ignorant of what had been kept from me. I shoved the thoughts away and tried to bring back more of the dream.

John. John and...someone else. Nate. Holy shit. Nate? I almost jumped up, but one of John's arms slid around my shoulders, the tips of his fingers brushing quietly over the collar and I subsided. Nate. That was...strange. Unexpected. I didn't think of Nate that way. I never had. He was Nate. My best friend. John's only real friend. A force of nature, like the earth. Solid, loving and decent. Not that. Sex was something I only thought about with John.

Why?

The question just appeared in my mind, simple and impossible to answer. Why did sex only exist between myself and John? Because that's the way it was. To do anything else, to even think it was a betrayal. I remembered the expansive feeling of peace and rightness that had filled me as John and Nate fucked me in the dream and felt a twisted, nauseating sense of guilt.

“I'm sorry.” I murmured it into John's skin, burying my face against his chest. I found one of his scars with my lips, an old, flat scar that was as wide as two of my fingers together and followed the curve of his ribs. I kissed the wound and wrapped my own arms around John, twining my legs in between his. I'd betrayed him, even if he didn't know it, even if it had only happened in my mind.

I was spending too much time with Nate. That, combined with the strangeness of the day had made my mind take a turn for the weird. That had to be it. It had to be. I would never do anything to hurt John. Not like that, not ever. I loved John. I didn't love Nate. Not like that.

My eyes grew heavy again, the lassitude of repletion finally overcoming my jittering nerves and I let them drift closed, willing myself into a dreamless sleep. A thought flitted through my mind just before I dropped into that restful state; there had been someone else in the dream. Someone I couldn't remember.

Oh, I didn't know it was my birthday today. LOL! This was so incredibly hot, from the punishment to that dream threesome with DP. So good! I want to take Harry and cuddle him forever: John is such a manipulative evil ass, he's rewritten Harry's responses and feelings to suit his needs and you portrayed his subtle manipulations so perfectly, even from Harry's POV, although Harry doesn't see them, we do.

And Nate! And Harry dreaming that the collar would come off and he'd be free and being allowed for the first time to think it. So wonderful! I can't wait for more to come.

:D

So many people manipulating Harry all at once. Poor boy...

I've been thinking that the meme has been slowing down a bit, now that school's back on. And then I tripped over this! I loved Lost in a Life and I'm thrilled to see a sequel. It was going to be awesome no matter what you did. And then the coin in the donation box. The possibilities of this are incredibly complex and interesting. I love it! And I love what you're making of it.

Thank you!

Oh, trust me, I could still screw it up. I'll do my best not to, of course.

I hope not to disappoint with where I'll go with this fic!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Round Four IS CLOSED

Re: Fic: The Life We Make 5b/

Re: Fic: The Life We Make 5c/? (I broke the character limit twice! Sorry!)

Re: Fic: The Life We Make 5c/? (I broke the character limit twice! Sorry!)

Re: Fic: The Life We Make 5c/? (I broke the character limit twice! Sorry!)

Re: Fic: The Life We Make 5c/? (I broke the character limit twice! Sorry!)

Re: Fic: The Life We Make 5c/? (I broke the character limit twice! Sorry!)