raisedbymoogles (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
raisedbymoogles) wrote2009-06-16 10:04 pm
raisedbymoogles) wrote2009-06-16 10:04 pm
DW Porn Battle results: one fic.
...I meant to do three. *fail*
Ah well. Here's my contribution. Hellboy, Hellboy/John Meyers, NC-17, for the prompt "collar". No title. Here's the original comment.
Red doesn't deny where he came from, but he knows better than anybody that choice makes you who you are better than birth or chance or destiny-whatever-the-hell-that-is. He's a demon - but he's his own demon. He's a monster - but no more so than any man. He's looked into the abyss - and the abyss took one look back at him and ran away with its tail between its legs. He's that kind of guy.
So he gets the impulse to conquer, master, take, and there's John, heart in hand and all too willing to be taken. The collar around his neck is solid iron, cold and much too heavy, but it gives Red something to hold onto as he guides John back onto his cock. The organ's a little too thick to go so fast and he knows it, but John has his safeword and doesn't use it though the pain ripples through his muscles in waves. Red spreads his free hand over John's back, feeling it clench under the skin, tasting warm blood and life and soul underneath. The human's breath is coming in quick gasps, wordless pleas as he hitches back against Red's body.
"Gonna make you hurt," Red says, fist on his collar, tail twining around one leg, blood-crimson on linen-pale.
"Know that. Want it," John gasps out. "Trust you."
" 'Cause you're mine, right?"
John shudders, strains helplessly against the collar. "God, yes, Red, I'm yours."
"Shouldn't take the Lord's name in vain," Red says, but he's smiling as he shifts his grip and starts to move.
Somehow now Red's dark side isn't so dark anymore.
Ah well. Here's my contribution. Hellboy, Hellboy/John Meyers, NC-17, for the prompt "collar". No title. Here's the original comment.
Red doesn't deny where he came from, but he knows better than anybody that choice makes you who you are better than birth or chance or destiny-whatever-the-hell-that-is. He's a demon - but he's his own demon. He's a monster - but no more so than any man. He's looked into the abyss - and the abyss took one look back at him and ran away with its tail between its legs. He's that kind of guy.
So he gets the impulse to conquer, master, take, and there's John, heart in hand and all too willing to be taken. The collar around his neck is solid iron, cold and much too heavy, but it gives Red something to hold onto as he guides John back onto his cock. The organ's a little too thick to go so fast and he knows it, but John has his safeword and doesn't use it though the pain ripples through his muscles in waves. Red spreads his free hand over John's back, feeling it clench under the skin, tasting warm blood and life and soul underneath. The human's breath is coming in quick gasps, wordless pleas as he hitches back against Red's body.
"Gonna make you hurt," Red says, fist on his collar, tail twining around one leg, blood-crimson on linen-pale.
"Know that. Want it," John gasps out. "Trust you."
" 'Cause you're mine, right?"
John shudders, strains helplessly against the collar. "God, yes, Red, I'm yours."
"Shouldn't take the Lord's name in vain," Red says, but he's smiling as he shifts his grip and starts to move.
Somehow now Red's dark side isn't so dark anymore.