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The Terror - Prompt Post 1
This is for prompts for all things AMC's The Terror (2018). Go nuts!
Cast RPF also goes here, shine on you crazy diamonds.
Cast RPF also goes here, shine on you crazy diamonds.
If you've filled (or started filling) a prompt, please make sure to link it in the comments of the Fills Post. And if you would like to cross-post your fills on AO3, here is the collection!
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1. Be fucking nice. YKINMATO/KINKTOMATO at all times.
2. This meme is CNTW (Choose Not To Warn) but warnings are highly encouraged.
3. Prompts should use this format in the subject line: [SHIP], [DESCRIPTION]
e.g.
Hickey/Crozier, CNC knifeplay
Solo gen can be prompted as well alongside (a) character name and description
e.g.
Gen, Edward Little, having a nice day
4. Fills should use this format in the subject line: FILL: [TITLE], [PAIRING], [RATING], [ANY WARNINGS]
e.g.
Fill: The Last Hour, Hickey/Tozer, E, cw dubcon
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Sex worker Topson
(Anonymous) 2022-12-10 03:06 am (UTC)(link)FILL : Sex Worker Topson, Jopson/OMC, implied Jopson>Crozier, Explicit, prostitution & light bdsm
(Anonymous) 2023-01-02 11:51 pm (UTC)(link)There was a smattering of freckles across the top of the man's shoulders, and Tom let himself feel a pang of yearning as he pressed down with the sole of his shoe until the man on his knees in front of him bowed as low as he could. Tom wore a mask as well. He was not an in-house worker, but his talents were sought-after and he never lacked for clients when his presence was advertised.
"Stay," he said, and the man moaned against the carpet. Tom wondered whether he even thought about how many before him had crawled on it, sweated or pissed or spent there. Whether he liked it. He stepped away and circled him, letting his heels strike the carpet loud enough for each footfall to make a noise.
Tom had borrowed a suit and gloves, and he had been handed a riding crop before he had entered the room. He itched to readjust the jacket, which was very slightly too wide in the shoulders, and there was a torn stitch on his left glove, but the handle of the crop felt as comforting as an old friend's handshake in his palm. Which was ironic: he had never even climbed on a horse in all his life.
He trailed the leather tongue of the crop down the man's spine, to the dip at the small of his back. "Up," he said, with a light tap, and the man shuffled on his knees until his bare arse was raised. His balls were heavy, and lightly furred in hair that caught hints of russet gold in the light of the chandelier. Tom wished he'd been older.
Tom undid his fly one-handed, pulling off his glove with his teeth before wrapping his fist around his half-hard cock, as he traced down the part of the man's buttocks to his balls, pushing them to the side so he could catch a glimpse of the weeping cock underneath. He went back up to the man's furled hole and tapped at it, lightly at first, as he rubbed at the spot underneath his cockhead which always made him flush with zings of pleasure.
The man was not a naif. The hole winked at him, beseeching, and with a last, more decisive touch which had his client giving a strangled yelp against the carpet, Jopson dropped the crop on the small gueridon table. There was a pot of unguent there as well, and Tom anointed his pointer and middle finger liberally before crouching by the man's arse. He slathered the skin around the hole, then dipped in briefly, feeling the grip of a man used to such penetration. Though Tom hadn't touched him, the skin of his back and thighs had gone rosy with arousal. It looked a bit like the colours cold gave to soft flesh usually covered in layers of cotton and wools, the glimpse of it one caught under the hem of a night shirt. He spread the man's arse with two thumbs, and moved his hips forward until the tip of his cock rested at the mouth of the arsehole.
"Oh my goodness," the man was saying, "ooh, yes please..." and the smoker's gravel of his voice had Tom pinching his mouth in an effort to keep his face blank.
"Quiet, sir," he said, and he pushed in. (part two tomorrow)
Re: FILL : Sex Worker Topson, Jopson/OMC, implied Jopson>Crozier, Explicit, prostitution & light bds
(Anonymous) 2023-01-03 07:42 pm (UTC)(link)Tom.... ;_;
Re: FILL : Sex Worker Topson, Jopson/OMC, implied Jopson>Crozier, Explicit (part 2/2)
(Anonymous) 2023-01-05 12:57 am (UTC)(link)Tom kept his thrusts deep and regular, gripping the client's waist with his gloved hand, more as a reminder that Tom was still nearly entirely dressed to his own humiliatingly bare self than to hold him in position. He made a circle with the thumb and pointer finger of his other hand, to make sure his cock would not slide out entirely when he withdrew.
He did not encourage or commend the man beneath him, even as he sobbed half-words into the raspy carpet, or as he clenched his hole around Tom. He sometimes talked in this moment, but the clients rarely needed him to. They came to Jopson for his coldness, he knew, for his icy reserve, even as he gave them all that they had paid for. There must be a thrill in buying something they could not possess, Tom guessed. What he earned from these hours was enough to tide him over until his next assignment, even after the house's levy.
He shifted slightly on his knees so that he could plunge deeper, stabbing unerringly at that place in a man's body that made the cock jerk and drip, and let himself look. The man beneath him had a full head of short-cropped sandy hair, and ears that were very pink at the tip, either naturally or from excitation. It would have been easier if Tom had taken a better look at his face when he could. Despite knowing better, despite seeing the discrepance in the texture of the hair, in the shape of the hands, where they splayed against the carpet, Tom found himself blinking to try to dispel the persistent illusion that it could have been his captain he was fucking into.
Tom had spent too long looking at the man to ignore there was a grain of plausibleness to his fantasy. The captain had the same deep-seated vice that brought men to the house, for all that he kept to the bottle at sea, and that he trailed after a lady both younger and wealthier than him on land.
Nothing made it impossible that one day Francis Crozier could knock on the unassuming door, say the phrase which circulated well in certain circles and would have him be let in into a tastefully decorated hallway. The House wasn't cheap, but Jopson saw all sorts. Maybe the captain, loneliness and spite burrowed deep in his breast, would have sold his coat for an evening of just what he wanted. Would have been standing naked in the room when Tom entered, eyes averted under the black mask, even as his prick, under the soft swell of his belly, would bob in the air already.
Tom would have made him kneel, then bend lower still, same as this man. Done his duty to his captain on land as he did on sea, and fucked him good and long, until the arse around his cock trembled with the beginnings of rumbling pleasure, then keep fucking him through his paroxysm, as he had fucked a hundred men, as his head dropped lower and he fisted his hands against the floor.
The man underneath made sharp "ah-ah" sounds as he spilled over, but Tom's ears were so attuned to his fantasy that he thought he could hear the stifled grunt of a sailor who knew that walls were thin. Jopson balanced back on his haunches, his cock pulling out still hard. The man shivered as the wider head was coaxed out of the mouth of his arsehole, made pink and sensitive despite the unguent, and Tom's thumb moved mechanically in a soothing back-and-forth on his hip.
"Will Sir need anything else?" he asked, but the man, still breathing heavily, shook his head no against the carpet, and so Jopson rose to his feet. He wiped the fingers of his bare hand, then his cock, on the napkin that could always be found in the suit's breast pocket, then dropped it into the bin by the door. The House had girls come by in the morning, once even the patrons who were not expected by family or friends had left, and clean what there was to clean. He buttoned up the fly of his trousers, and caught sight of himself in one of the tall mirrors on the walls.
The strip of velvet over his eyes had moved slightly, he noted, and he readjusted it, tightening the knot behind his skull. The torn stitch on the glove annoyed him.
He left the room, careful that his footsteps did not sound too loud, and walked three doors to the left to his next client.
Re: FILL : Sex Worker Topson, Jopson/OMC, implied Jopson>Crozier, Explicit (part 2/2)
(Anonymous) 2023-01-07 12:18 am (UTC)(link)prince will comecaptain will be waiting for you in a room down the hall... Thank you so much for this!Re: FILL : Sex Worker Topson, Jopson/OMC, implied Jopson>Crozier, Explicit (part 2/2)
(Anonymous) 2023-01-07 11:37 pm (UTC)(link)