the_machine_mod: Security camera with red light. (Default)
the_machine_mod ([personal profile] the_machine_mod) wrote in [community profile] meme_of_interest2013-03-28 06:03 pm

Prompt Post 01

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Re: FILL: HOLD (RINCH) [G] [CNTW]

(Anonymous) 2013-04-15 12:05 pm (UTC)(link)
Awesome! Especially the last sentence. Perfect.

Re: Finch backstory

(Anonymous) 2013-04-15 12:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Sweet!
bkwyrm: (Default)

Re: FILL: Touch, Reese/Finch, Teen, 7/7

[personal profile] bkwyrm 2013-04-15 03:54 pm (UTC)(link)
That was really sweet. I mean, in a totally twisted way, in keeping with the show and characters.

Re: FILL: Touch, Reese/Finch, Teen, 7/7

(Anonymous) 2013-04-15 03:56 pm (UTC)(link)
wow that's... exactly what I was going for

<3

Narold prompt

[personal profile] kmmerc 2013-04-15 04:25 pm (UTC)(link)
Harold isn't talking to Nathan - maybe tired of Nathan's horndog ways. So Nathan invents the 'Programmer of the Month' award so that he can present it to Harold, have lunch with him in Nathan's huge office, anything so that they are talking again, so Nathan can apologize. Bonus: Office sex
neery: Image of Saturn and a sun, words "Touching the stars" (Default)

Re: grateful and needy

[personal profile] neery 2013-04-15 06:19 pm (UTC)(link)
None of the links are working, and your tumblr shows as empty for me. Is this my browser being weird, or did you delete?

Re: grateful and needy

(Anonymous) 2013-04-15 08:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Shows as empty for me too.
annchi: Elizabeth Shaw (Default)

Re: John thinks about Grace a lot

[personal profile] annchi 2013-04-15 11:07 pm (UTC)(link)
Have you seen these? Two-parter Reese/Finch/Grace where Grace is practical and lovely:

Phoenix: http://archiveofourown.org/works/735772
Halcyon: http://archiveofourown.org/works/746989 (part 2)

What if Finch is secretly a serial killer?

(Anonymous) 2013-04-16 12:55 am (UTC)(link)
Hey, can we get a serial-killer!AU in here?

(This brought to you by Michael Emerson's many, many creepy killer roles.)
moralis: (4)

Re: grateful and needy

[personal profile] moralis 2013-04-16 10:12 am (UTC)(link)
Sure thing!

Drugged and Semi-Conscious

(Anonymous) 2013-04-16 03:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Finch or Reese, gen or slash. @.@ My firstborn in payment.

FILL: Eating in (Finch/Reese) [explicit] [mild D/s, light bondage]

(Anonymous) 2013-04-16 05:42 pm (UTC)(link)
John tries not to glance at the rearview mirror too often but he knows it’s a losing battle. He’s not a weak man but the knowledge that Harold is smirking at him from the backseat is testing his patience, and his self-control.

When his gaze drifts to the mirror again, Harold is looking straight back at him, a tiny smile on his lips and his eyes bright with amusement behind his glasses.

“Eyes on the road, Mr. Reese,” he says, terribly casual. “I would hate for you to commit a traffic violation.”

“I won’t crash, Finch.”

“I should hope not.” He idly fiddles with a cufflink. “Hacking the DMV is so tedious.”

John bites back a smile of his own and concentrates on driving again. There’s a lot less traffic than they’d anticipated and at the rate they’re going, they’ll get to the restaurant far too early for their reservation.

He comes to a stop at a red light and with nothing else to occupy him for the time being, John looks up at the mirror again. He catches sight of Harold still smiling, tongue darting out and sweeping over his bottom lip. John’s hands tighten on the steering wheel a little, and Harold’s smile widens.

“This really isn’t playing fair,” John mutters, as the lights turn green.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean, Mr. Reese.”

John eyes him in the mirror. “Did you wear that shirt and tie combo on purpose?”

For a second, Harold’s smile turns into a full-blown grin before he’s able to get it back under control again. The brief glimpse of it makes John’s stomach do a stupid little flip. He barely even realizes what’s he’s doing when he starts to smile back.

“This old thing?” Harold asks blandly, but John knows him well enough by now to hear the laughter in his voice anyway. He’s smiling again when he turns a little to look out the window.

They get to an intersection and John only pauses for a heartbeat or two before flipping the indicator up and turning left.

“Mr. Reese,” Harold says slowly.

John schools his face into his most innocent expression and meets Harold’s gaze in the mirror.

“Yes?”

Harold’s eyes narrow slightly. “This is the wrong way.”

“Is it?”

“You needed to turn right and you know it.”

“To get to the restaurant, yes,” John agrees with a nod. He maneuvers the car into a shadowed space in an empty alley and puts it in park. “But maybe I didn’t want to go to our dinner meeting just yet.”

He turns around in his seat to find Harold watching him with an unreadable expression on his face.

“And where did you want to go instead, I wonder?”

Harold’s voice has gone quiet and almost imperceptibly deeper. John still hears the change, though, and the sound of it goes straight to his cock.

He doesn’t answer straight away. Instead, he gets out of the car and opens the passenger door, the one opposite Harold. John leans in, arms braced against the roof of the car, and gives Harold a slow, sharp smile.

“Somewhere quiet,” he says. “Somewhere… private.”

Harold’s gaze travels over his face and down the length of his body, pausing to stare briefly at the growing bulge in his pants before slowly trailing back up again to meet his eyes. Again, Harold licks his lips.

“And why on earth would you want to go somewhere like that?”

John climbs into the car and all but crawls over to him. He unbuckles Harold’s seatbelt and chases it’s retreating path over Harold’s chest with one hand. Harold’s heartbeat is strong and steady beneath his palm, if just a touch too fast.

“I’m supposed to be your driver for this thing, right?”

“Right.”

John slowly drags his hand down Harold’s torso.

“You’re meant to be my employer.”

“Yes.” Harold sounds a little breathless.

“Employers give their workers instructions, don’t they?” John leans closer, face hovering above Harold’s as he slides his fingers under a perfectly tailored waistband. “Directions,” he adds, moving closer still. “…Orders.” He licks his own lips and feels a surge of heat in his gut when Harold’s attention is immediately drawn to the movement of his tongue.

“We’re early?” Harold asks, still staring at John’s mouth.

“There’s time,” John assures.

Harold lifts his gaze. His pupils are blown wide behind his glasses, gaze hot and intense, and John’s breath catches a little.

“Kiss me,” Harold says suddenly, and it’s not a request.

John crushes their mouths together, obedient and eager. He feels Harold’s fingers sliding into his hair before he’s pushed onto his back, Harold leaning forward until John is lying prone on the seat. The leather is warm and luxuriously soft at his back while Harold is a familiar weight against his chest. John fits a thigh between Harold’s legs and smiles against his mouth at the resulting groan. He lets his head drop back against the seat and grins.

“Anything else you’d like me to do, Mr. Finch?”

Harold’s eyes darken. He sits back a little and starts undoing John’s lie, deft fingers unraveling the knot before pulling it slowly from his collar.

“I’d like you to tie yourself up, Mr. Reese.”

His voice is very quiet now. John swallows, his cock now painfully hard. He takes the tie and wraps it around his own wrists, securing the bond by gripping one end of the tie in a tight fist and using his teeth to pull the other end taut. Harold watches in silence, though something flickers over his face when he sees John with silk between his lips.

“Up,” he says, carefully lifting John’s arms until they’re above his head, bound hands just brushing the roof of the car. John flexes his fingers and realizes Harold had positioned him deliberately – he can hold onto the grab handle if he needs to. Anticipation curls in his belly.

“Anything else?” John asks, his voice noticeably rougher.

Harold leans down.

“Close your eyes,” he whispers, right into John’s ear. “And keep them closed.”

John does as he’s told, eyes falling shut. He feels Harold twisting his shirt buttons free and pushing fabric out of the way but purposely, maddeningly, not touching his skin. John’s belt buckle is next, then his fly is undone and his pants are tugged down just past his ass.

And then, nothing.

John measures the time passing in heartbeats that get increasingly rapid the longer Harold keeps him waiting. But he doesn’t open his eyes, and he doesn’t move, and he doesn’t say a word.

“Good,” Harold murmurs approvingly from somewhere above him. “Very good, John.”

More silence, utter quiet. John imagines the picture he must make right now: wrists bound, half undressed. Chest exposed, eyes shut and waiting, waiting, waiting

Warm breath ghosts damply over his underwear and that’s the only warning he gets before he feels Harold’s tongue giving him a long, firm lick.

“God,” he bursts out, struggling to stay still.

Harold keeps mouthing at his cock, all warm lips and talented tongue, and John swallows thickly, biting his lip and keeping his eyes tightly, determinedly closed. It’s so good but not nearly enough, the thin barrier of fabric doing nothing but remind him of what this feels like when there’s nothing at all between that mouth and his skin. John knows that Harold knows it too - knows what this is doing to him, and the knowledge makes John that much harder.

Hands trail over John’s stomach, traveling up to his chest; fingers find his nipples and twist and rub until John is writhing against the seat. His mouth drops open, panting.

“Har – Harold,” he gasps.

Harold doesn’t say anything, but John hears him shift and a moment later there’s a palm pressed against his forehead and lips are at his neck. John tilts his head to the side, offering, and feels Harold smile against his skin. There’s no cold sting of metal or glass and John suddenly realizes that Harold’s face must be bare, no glasses, and he almost opens his eyes – it’s not often that he gets to see Harold’s face so exposed and he hoards the sight every time he does.

Harold licks along the tendon at side of John’s neck, pausing to suck at his pulse point, before continuing down along his chest. He hovers above a nipple, close enough that John can feel his breath like a feather-light touch, and for a long, long minute, that’s all John can feel – Harold doesn’t move.

John licks his lips.

“Please,” he murmurs, eventually.

Lips close around the nipple, sucking hard, and John can’t stop a moan from escaping, sudden and obscenely loud. He grips the grab handle tight as Harold alternates between bites and sucking kisses that leave John gasping, back arching up off the seat. Harold’s other hand slips across his stomach and down over his abdomen.

“Yes,” John hisses, as Harold’s hand moves closer and closer to his aching cock.

Harold shifts lower, one hand still rolling a nipple between his fingers as he moves down John’s body. John feels Harold’s suit scraping over the exposed skin of his chest, wool and cotton and buttons and silk worth thousands and thousands of dollars, and all it getting crushed and rubbed against him. He shudders.

Fingers are on his cock now, teasing, but before John can protest his underwear is yanked down and suddenly Harold’s mouth is on him, sucking on the head, one hand pumping the shaft and the other rolling his balls.

The assault is sudden, shocking, and all John can do is moan as Harold keeps working his cock in a relentlessly steady rhythm. It’s not quite enough to get him over the edge but it's enough to make his hips jerk up, hard, no control, trying to get more of that wet heat and incredible suction. Harold holds him down, fingers digging in hard enough to hurt, and John moans again, pushing up against Harold’s hands and chasing the sting of pain.

Harold pulls off, licking up the underside of his cock with the flat of his tongue, running the tip around the ridge and licking away precome.

“Oh, fuck,” Joan breathes weakly, and hears Harold chuckle. He sounds a little hoarse and if anything, John gets impossibly harder. “Harold, fuck.”

“Alas, I don’t think we have time for that, Mr. Reese.”

Harold strokes his cock, base to tip, his grip tight and hot.

“But if things go well and you keep your eyes closed, we may be able to do something about that later.”

“That’s,” John starts, but he cuts himself off with a sharp gasp when Harold’s mouth descends again, taking him in even further, sucking harder, one hand pumping him hard and fast.

“God,” John groans, screwing his eyes shut, gripping the grab handle so tightly his fingernails dig into his palms. His thrusts get shorter and harder and increasingly erratic and he knows he’s close; he’s so close -

Then Harold’s fist tightens, forearms holding him firmly against the seat, and John feels Harold swallow around him, his cock hitting the back of Harold’s throat.

“Oh Jesus,” John whimpers, trying desperately not to fuck up into Harold’s perfect mouth. The hand on his cock pumps him even harder as Harold moves up and down the length of him, and John imagines it, sees it so clearly in his mind: Harold’s lips stretched around him, red and swollen, head bobbing between his legs; bespoke suit still pristine and his tie not even loosened – and that’s what does it, that what’s pushes him over, the thought of Harold sucking him off while still looking so buttoned up and polished.

John’s body tenses, hovering just on the edge for another intense second before he comes with a gasp, hips straining to move under Harold’s weight, unable to make a sound as Harold keeps sucking and stroking until he’s spent and shaking.

It takes a little while for John to come back to himself. When he does, he feels gentle hands uncurling his fingers from the grab handle, and carefully freeing his wrists from the tie.

“John,” Harold says, lightly massaging his hands. “Open your eyes.”

He has to blink a few times before the world comes back into focus, and when it does, Harold is the first thing he sees.

He has his glasses back on, and John feels vaguely disappointed. Harold sees it and smiles a little.

“How are your arms?” he asks.

“Fine,” John answers, flexing his wrists and stretching a little. It’s only then that he realizes that Harold is still hard, erection straining against the front of his pants.

“Let me,” he starts, moving forward and reaching for Harold’s belt, but Harold shakes his head, grabbing John’s wrist.

“I’m afraid we’ve run out of time.”

John checks his watch and swears.

“I could be fast,” he offers, mind skipping ahead to exactly how he could bring Harold off at record speed.

“I’m sure you could,” Harold says with a grin. He starts buttoning John’s shirt back up. “But we shouldn’t risk being late. Besides,” he adds with a slight smirk, “I’d rather you took your time and made it up to me… properly.”

Harold’s palms are warm as they run over John’s torso, smoothing out the wrinkles. John covers Harold’s hands with one of his own, holding them trapped against his chest.

Harold watches him in silence for a moment, then raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Mr. Reese?”

“Kiss me.”

A smile spreads over Harold’s face, sudden and bright, and he laughs a little helplessly as he leans down.

It’s brief – too brief. The press and slide of lips, Harold’s tongue sweeping in and warm breath ghosting over his mouth and then that’s it, Harold pulling away and sitting back again, fussing with John’s collar and looping his tie back around his neck.

John lays still and watches Harold work. He swiftly creates a perfect half-Windsor and John smiles a little when he realizes that he actually knows the names of various tie knots now. Harold raises an eyebrow again but doesn’t speak yet, just carefully tightens the knot until it rests against the base of John’s throat. He leans back and surveys his handiwork.

“I trust you can take care of your own pants, Mr. Reese?”

John’s smile widens.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, Finch.”

He’s doing up his belt buckle when Harold’s cellphone goes off. John sits up, immediately alert, but freezes when he sees Harold’s eyes light up with – something. John frowns.

“Yes, I understand,” Harold is saying to whoever’s on the phone. “No, it’s no trouble at all. Thank you for letting me know. I do hope you feel better soon.”

He hangs up a moment later.

“Problem?” John asks.

“Not exactly.”

Harold turns to face him, a tiny smile curling his lips. John gives him an expectant look.

“Share with the class, Harold.”

“That was my contact. He’s unfortunately been struck down with the stomach flu.” Harold takes his glasses off and carefully tosses them onto the driver’s seat. “Won’t be able to make it for the meeting tonight.”

“Oh?” John reaches out and curls his fingers around the end of Harold’s tie. It’s silk, the finest quality, and it feels cool and fluid in his hand. “Isn’t that a shame.”

He tugs, lightly, but Harold lets himself be pulled forward anyway.

“We could still go to dinner,” Harold points out.

John licks his lips, dragging Harold closer.

“Actually, I’d rather eat in,” he says, and swallows Harold’s reply with a long, deep kiss.

Re: FILL: Eating in (Finch/Reese) [explicit] [mild D/s, light bondage]

(Anonymous) 2013-04-16 06:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Hot damn.
ladyvyola: Mr. Finch at a computer, Mr. Reese standing beside him (secret masters of the universe)

Re: You Can Drive My Car (Finch/Reese)

[personal profile] ladyvyola 2013-04-16 09:19 pm (UTC)(link)
Aw! Finch should be slightly drunk or high more often! I love seeing him when he's feeling no pain.
ladyvyola: Mr. Finch at a computer, Mr. Reese standing beside him (secret masters of the universe)

Re: FILL: Eating in (Finch/Reese) [explicit] [mild D/s, light bondage]

[personal profile] ladyvyola 2013-04-16 09:21 pm (UTC)(link)
I follow recaps of 50 Shades of Gray which can basically be summed up as D/s: Ur Doin' It Wrong.

This. This is Doin' It Right. Mmmmmmm. Reese wanting to play and asking for it will never not be hot as hell.
aqua_eyes: reese and finch from person of interest. reese is looking at finch with a little pink heart between them. (Default)

Re: FILL: Eating in (Finch/Reese) [explicit] [mild D/s, light bondage]

[personal profile] aqua_eyes 2013-04-16 09:25 pm (UTC)(link)
*_*

Re: FILL: Eating in (Finch/Reese) [explicit] [mild D/s, light bondage]

(Anonymous) 2013-04-16 09:50 pm (UTC)(link)

This is without question one of the hottest things I've read in ages. It's the obviously affection that underlies all of this, your observation of Finch's facial expressions, the helpless laugh that make it so.

finch/reese, protectiveness

(Anonymous) 2013-04-16 11:22 pm (UTC)(link)
so reese is the most protective guy i've ever seen & it's making me want to scream, because it's my favorite thing in the world. could i have some more of the same please? maybe his protectiveness is going into overdrive because finch is hurt, or threatened. or maybe he just thinks finch is being threatened. reese completely freaking out & destroying the guys who dared to hurt finch would be very okay too.

if wanna go there, please give me top!reese.
killalla: (Default)

Finch/Reese, Master/Servant Dynamics

[personal profile] killalla 2013-04-17 01:03 am (UTC)(link)
Of any kind, really - Gentleman and Valet, King and Knight, Officer and Batman, or Nobleman and his Battle Butler. Basically, any situation where Reese is Finch's champion or bodyguard, but also his personal servant.

Bonus points if there is a sacred oath, magical binding or other type of contract involved, such that that Finch would never initiate anything romantic or sexual because he doesn't want to abuse his power, while Reese would never initiate anything because he doesn't see himself as worthy enough to ask for more. Cue angst, repression, etc.
astolat: lady of shalott weaving in black and white (Default)

Re: FILL: Eating in (Finch/Reese) [explicit] [mild D/s, light bondage]

[personal profile] astolat 2013-04-17 01:15 am (UTC)(link)
omgggggg, this is *incandescently* hot

“I’d like you to tie yourself up, Mr. Reese.”

His voice is very quiet now. John swallows, his cock now painfully hard. He takes the tie and wraps it around his own wrists, securing the bond by gripping one end of the tie in a tight fist and using his teeth to pull the other end taut. Harold watches in silence, though something flickers over his face when he sees John with silk between his lips.


akl;aj; a;ldjf a;df k;asjdfka s;djfkasd; ffdskf /goes offline there, does not come back
astolat: lady of shalott weaving in black and white (Default)

MINI-FILL: Asking (Reese/Finch) [explicit] [no warnings]

[personal profile] astolat 2013-04-17 01:55 am (UTC)(link)
"Please?" John asks, and rolls his hips against Harold's hand. "Please -- " except he doesn't even need to say it twice; Harold is already sliding his fingers out, pressing his cock inside, thick and blunt and hot.

"More?" John asks, and Harold gives him more, as much as he wants, as quickly as he wants, sliding deep, an almost painful stretch that is exactly what John wants, what he's aching for.

"Harder?" John asks, his face buried against pillows, muffled; he's braced against the couch, legs spread wide. Harold is panting against him, huff-huff of his breath on John's shoulderblades as he labors, working, and he drags in a deep breath and does it, fucks John even harder, rocking him back and forth, even though his own breath comes harsh and gulping and desperate.

"Again?" John asks, afterwards, even though he's still shuddering and Harold is limply sprawled on his back, and Harold groans softly and says, "Now you're deliberately being difficult," but he still does it, bends his head and kisses the nape of John's neck, tip of his tongue darting to lick away a drop of sweat, presses two fingers to John's body and then a third, and -- god -- a fourth, eases them in and thrusts gently, rhythmically, his thumb braced against John's ass.

John closes his eyes and presses his forehead against Harold's other arm, shuddering. It's not that I don't believe you, he wants to say. It's just taking me a while to get used to the idea.
Edited 2013-04-17 01:56 (UTC)
astolat: lady of shalott weaving in black and white (Default)

MINI-FILL: Afterwards (Reese/Finch) [explicit] [no warnings]

[personal profile] astolat 2013-04-17 02:05 am (UTC)(link)
The day after he saves John on a rooftop, Harold spanks him for the first time.

They sleep in John's apartment. In the morning Harold turns off his telephone and unplugs John's landline, gives a few quiet orders, and John spends the day spread out naked on his own bed -- oh, the luxury of having his own bed, that's also Harold's bed, the bed Harold got him. Harold spanks him with a wide paddle of smooth, heavy, polished wood, and then strokes his hands over the sore hot redness, kneading it into John's muscles.

John groans and writhes under it, wondering if Harold is going to fuck him, too. He isn't sure if he wants it or not. He isn't sure if he wants the spanking or not, either, although the fact he took off all his clothes when Harold told him to and lay down under it for an hour suggests that apparently he does.

Harold rubs oil all over him and then spanks him some more, another solid hour of the hard meaty smack of the wood on John's buttocks and thighs. John's eyes start leaking tears, slowly at first, and then a little quicker, gasps starting to break out of him, and then Harold puts his hand on the back of John's neck and says softly, "Yes, John, there you go, there," and bends and kisses him softly, in a line: nape of the neck, hollow of the back, and John's crying, outright crying; involuntary and so good, and then Harold puts away the paddle and lies down next to him and holds him while John slowly and quietly weeps in his arms, for hours.

Afterwards, Harold lowers the blinds and turns off all the lights and covers John up warmly. He putters around him in the apartment, a faint reassuring presence, the soft click-click-click of the keys as he types, brief whistle of the kettle. John drifts somewhere short of sleep, somewhere utterly quiet.

Later that evening, after dark, he gets up and showers. When he comes out, Harold is putting out Chinese food. They eat dinner together. John reaches out and takes Harold's hand in both of his and kisses it. Harold leans over and kisses him, then takes him to bed. John shudders beneath him, joyfully, relieved.

carter & reese meet pre-canon AU

(Anonymous) 2013-04-17 02:06 am (UTC)(link)
What if Carter and Reese had met at some point while they were both in the military? Would she like him or would he be like those guys who betrayed her informant? How would that affect their interactions once they meet again in canon?

Re: Logan Pierce/Reese hookup, Finch/Reese UST, Voyeur Finch

(Anonymous) 2013-04-17 02:21 am (UTC)(link)
It is almost metaphorically a fuck or die situation -- "I must press my body against yours and penetrate you deeply OR YOU'LL DIE."

so basically +100000 to this prompt.