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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!
If you have questions or comments please contact us in the comments of the Mod Post.
Just to reiterate from the Mod Post, here are the RULES:
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
5. One prompt per comment please.
6. Multiple fills for each prompt are welcome!
7. You don't have to be anon for your prompts or your fills but we do encourage it because of the vibe. You're also welcome to deanon your stuff by posting on AO3/Tumblr as you please!
Flat view, first comment: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/599.html?style=site&view=flat#comments
Flat view, most recent: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/599.html?style=site&view=flat&page=1000#comments
Top Level view, first page: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/599.html?style=site&view=top-only#comments
Top Level view, last page: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/599.html?style=site&view=top-only&page=1000#comments
Re: FILL: you cooled my mind that burned with longing, Bridgens/Peglar, E, no warnings (2/2)
(Anonymous) 2023-01-07 11:37 pm (UTC)(link)With one last kiss to John’s flank Henry sits up, draping an arm over John’s waist as his other hand wraps around the base of John’s prick, bringing it to his lips. He swipes his tongue along the shaft but doesn’t tug back the foreskin yet, dipping his tongue inside to give small kitten licks along the rim of the crown. After a while of this he sits up to lap at the tip in broad, leisurely strokes, like a bit of melted sugar he’s looking forward to savoring. John moans brokenly and tries to buck his hips, but his fever makes it a simple thing for Henry to hold him down against the mattress. It also seems to have burned away some of his usual reservations; when Henry finally wraps his mouth around the head, John makes a noise so wanton Henry’s own cheeks burn scarlet, even as his cock strains where it’s trapped between his stomach and the sheets.
With his own threadbare patience quickly dissipating, Henry ducks down, taking John into his mouth properly. He works John’s prick at a steady rhythm, lips pulled tight as he takes incrementally more of him with each bob of his head. He reaches for John’s hand and places it in his hair, humming contently when John’s fingers curl just enough to tug at the strands.
“You’re like something out of a sailor’s filthy dream,” John’s voice rumbles above him, breathless and unfocused in between moans. “A strong jaw and lips so pretty they belong on a lass. The sweet way you sigh when I first press into you, like it’s all you’ve needed. And you take me so beautifully,” He brushes back strands of Henry’s sweat-slicked hair, tone full of adoration. “Even the first time we laid together you took me with such ease, like you were made to be stuffed…”
This time it’s Henry who whines plaintively at John, the hand draped over John’s waist pawing uselessly at his hip. He's desperate to feel more of John, to be so full with the taste and weight of him that every other thought is trampled out.
Of course, John understands. His brilliant, blessed John, who doesn’t need words to know what Henry needs from him. The fingers in Henry’s hair tighten, gripping more firmly as John’s other hand comes up to hold Henry’s head, cheek cradled in his palm. John holds him in place but doesn’t push in, the head of his prick not quite brushing against the back of Henry’s throat. He rubs his thumb along the line of Henry’s jaw gently, back and forth, back and forth, until the muscles go lax.
Henry’s hand, wrapped around the base of John’s cock, is coated in spit. He lets go to wrap it around his own prick, and the wet heat of it is such a relief from the dry friction of the sheets that he nearly sobs. He shifts to support most of his weight on the mattress and plasters his flank to John’s thigh, blinking up at him imploringly, eyes bright with unshed tears.
“Marvelous. Such a pretty little thing, so good at swallowing my cock,” John’s thrusts are gentle at first, a barely there rocking of his hips that re-accustoms Henry to the friction of John’s cock rubbing over his tongue, the tip just brushing the ridge at the back of Henry’s palate. He doesn’t move Henry’s head, keeping him in place as his thrusts steadily become longer. “So perfect, m-my Henry. The ancients would’ve surely…worshipped you as Eros…”
Henry’s eyes fall closed as he strokes himself in time with John’s movements, rubbing his thumb against the slit each time John’s cock rubs against the back of his throat. Finally, after what feels to Henry simultaneously like an eternity and a second, John brings Henry’s head down and thrusts his hips up, breaching Henry’s throat. Henry moans and his whole body shudders with it, tears spilling hot down his cheeks, John repeating his name like a prayer as he fucks into him. Henry’s mind goes perfectly blank—he can only draw ragged breaths and take what John gives him. At this point he’s not so much stroking himself as rutting into his spit-covered hand, unable to focus on anything but the drag of John’s cock against his tongue and the ache in his jaw as he struggles to accommodate all of him.
Eventually John’s litany is reduced to staggered moans, and as his movements lose some of their rhythm Henry distantly thinks of what a shameless sight he must make—the drool running down the corners of his mouth, pooling and mixing with snot on his beard; cheeks splotched red and tear-streaked; hips grinding gracelessly into the mattress like an animal in heat. It’s almost humiliating enough to pull him out of the moment. But when he manages a look at John, he finds nothing but veneration and pure affection in his eyes. The blistering humiliation transforms into a warm comfort, flows down Henry’s body and right to the point where John’s ankle is still pressed to the back of his knee.
Henry comes so hard his whole body trembles with it, throat tightening instinctively around John’s prick even as he struggles to gather air into his lungs. John manages one last, broken sob of Henry’s name and comes down his throat, thighs clamping around Henry's sides as if to hold him in place.
As if this isn’t exactly where Henry dreams of being.
John shakes through the last waves of his orgasm and Henry does his best to swallow it all, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead on John’s thigh as he pulls air through his nose, lips still wrapped around John’s softening prick. He sucks and mouths at the sensitive flesh until a not-so-gentle tug of his hair forces him off. Henry whines but goes where he’s pulled, wobbling on his hands and knees just long enough to collapse at the head of the bed besides John.
Almost immediately John’s hands are on his face again, John’s lips kissing the corners of his eyes as he brushes the hair back from his forehead. Then John is lapping at the mess on his face, and it’s sweet but also a bit like being greeted by a giant dog, and now it’s Henry’s turn to shove him away. John laughs at him; the sound is warm and lovely and Henry wants to bottle it, store it in a pendant beside his heart so he’ll never feel without love again. Instead, he grabs the hem of John’s nightshirt, the fabric still bunched over his chest, and finally pulls it off completely. He does his best to wipe them both down before tossing it on the ground besides his own discarded clothing, settling back to pull the blanket over them both.
They lie on their sides, John’s head tucked under his chin, legs tangled together. He buries one hand in the mess of John’s hair, rubbing soothing circles into his scalp as Henry’s other hand curls protectively over John’s hip. John still feels flush to the touch, but there’s a certain bonelessness to his limbs as he lies in Henry’s arms that wasn’t there before.
“You make the worst patient, sweetheart. When it’s my turn to be ill next, I don’t want to hear a single word about being difficult.”
Re: FILL: you cooled my mind that burned with longing, Bridgens/Peglar, E, no warnings (2/2)
(Anonymous) 2023-01-08 01:49 am (UTC)(link)(also you write them so well?? like, everything from their dynamics, the dialogue, the easy domesticity, the literary references?? it all felt so very authentic to them, and worked so well for the premise, and just — 10/10 bridglar, amazing work!)
Re: FILL: you cooled my mind that burned with longing, Bridgens/Peglar, E, no warnings (2/2)
(Anonymous) 2023-01-11 07:50 am (UTC)(link)I'm so happy to enjoyed it 💖 thank you again for such a lovely comment, and of course the wonderful prompt