Post #1

Apr. 16th, 2011 07:02 pm
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This is a kinkmeme. You may just be familiar with the concept.

If not: explicit, adult content; read at your own risk, and keep the kids -- wherever that arbitrary line is in your jurisdiction -- out. Also, please wear your seatbelt.


1. When prompting, use the comment field to jot down character, pairing, or moresome first, then the kink(s), then any other prompt elements; after a line break, you can elaborate via words, images, or links. Like so?

2. When responding, use the subject line for the original prompt (plus your title, if you have one).

3. All kinks are welcome -- sexual, emotional, conceptual, likewise all gen, het, slash, bitextual and other fic from crack to drama.

4. Anon is encouraged but up to you.

5. Mark all spoilers, mmkay?

6. Go for it!


7. With a view to some prompts: Spell Check is your BFF. Don't make Alt!Astrid cry, please?

8. A kinkmeme's more than a promptmeme. Here's [personal profile] eliade's non-definitive and non-exhaustive (but pretty illustrative) List of Fan-fiction Kinks, Tropes, Clichés, and Fetishes.

9. Could you -- in the subject line or the first line of the body of text -- draw attention to the fact there's rape or non-con, major character death, underage, and/or graphic violence in your response (which is the Archive Of Our Own (AO3) policy).

Collision Course. Walter/Nina/William

Date: 2011-09-17 11:36 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Walter meets Nina first.

In 1966 her hair’s a torch, skin alabaster pure. Nina wore mini-dresses, favoured European cigarettes with long-stemmed holders, and came from old money. She studied sociology at Harvard, with a focus on law, the burgeoning political rights movement. Nina organised boycotts with the express purpose of alienating her overly rich parents. Walter, who didn’t come from money and arrived at Harvard under a flurry of scholarships, felt ill refined in her presence. The assured authority in Nina’s tone transfixed Walter: how she would stare men down twice her age without flinching. She was going to save the world, Nina said, one war at a time.

The interior of her old VW became rank with rolled up joints, cloyingly sweet as she smuggled young men across the border into Canada. Tell me your plans, she would say, and Nina, who didn’t have a scientific bone in her body but possessed mad organisational skills, would listen intently as Walter prattled about the wonders of science. She would lie on her belly in his dorm room, stretched across stained carpet, legs folded behind her, heels swinging idly in the air, and blow smoke rings at the ceiling, twirling her cigarette holder like a flapper from the 1930s. Walter fell in love with her curiosity, with her stolen kisses. Nina would return to her dorm with her knickers tucked into her purse, still wet with his fluids.

Nina flitted into Walter’s life and left. Beholden to no man.

She would show up again, with a beautiful Spanish boy hanging off her arm, with ivory league suitors panting at her every word. On one memorable occasion, Nina returned with a blonde woman. Walter wrote his first thesis to the strains and harmony of their lovemaking - two women writhing three feet away on his narrow bed - while the coherency of his thoughts became increasingly tangled. In 1966, he thinks Nina is the woman he’ll marry.

Oddly, Walter doesn’t meet William Bell until 1967, the direct correlation with oddness being they shared access to a lab *for a year* without ever noticing one another. Walter’s ability to bury his head in work was a long-standing tradition, and William’s preferred time for experimentation ran in the witching hours. To be honest, they don’t notice one another until the lab accidently blows up. The department head spends seventy-two hours trying to determine which of their experiments was responsible, while Walter and Bell point the finger accusingly at one another. “He’s a jerk,” Walter mutters.

“I think he’s dreamy,” Nina responds.

“I do not perform unstable experiments!” Nina looks at him: Walter flushes to his hairline and draws deeply on his joint.

Nina’s voice becomes arch. “I was thinking about blowing up the draftee board, Walter. Mind if I use your ‘experiment’ to help?”

“Prison would be so kind to you,” Walter says tartly. Nina laughs, spinning around, keeping pace with him as she walks backwards. She steals the smoke from his hand as Walter kicks half-heartedly at a pebble. “I could lose my scholarship over this!”

“No you won’t. You’re brilliant, Walter. Harvard won’t let you go that easily.”

He looks sweetly surprised at her words. Nina places a hand on his chest, draws them both to a stop. She nibbles his bottom lip, seals her mouth over Walter’s, and blows smoke and death down his lungs. Some of the rigidness leaves his body. Walter places a hand high on her rib cage, his thumb brushing against the curve of her breast. “I think there’s a well-hidden garden around here somewhere,” Nina whispers.

“Thank god.”

“And I think you should introduce me to this William character,” she adds, her eyes mock innocent. “Doesn’t he remind you of….?”

“No. He doesn’t. Absolutely not.”

“Dreamy,” Nina repeats.


“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was sharing lab-space with a scientific hack!”

Bell narrows his eyes dangerously. Nina watches them both, utterly fascinated.

“Single-handedly you managed to destroy a years work of my scientific thesis,” Bell says. “Why don’t you be the bigger man, and admit to the Dean it was your fault?”

“I’m already the bigger man in all other respects,” Walter pounces – and Nina rolls her eyes because really, William fell into that one. “I thought you’d like your share of credit this time.”

“Boys,” Nina interrupts. “Did it occur to you neither one was at fault? That perhaps, individually the experiments were harmless, but performed within proximity of one another…” She arches one eyebrow, a smile curving the corner of her mouth as she trails her eyes down William’s lanky form. “Maybe sharing space together they were just…volatile. Like the two of you.”

Bell stares at her. “And you are?”

Nina dimples at him. “Turned on. I love a good argument.”

Bell blinks at her then looks away in apparent bemusement. “It’s a sound theory,” he allows.

“Good enough for the Dean?” Walter asks grudgingly.

“If he doesn’t want to lose two of the most promising scientific minds of the century, it is. Now,” Nina continues, “someone owes me sex.”

Nina thinks it’s her due two teenage boys tear their clothes off to oblige. It’s a competition, Nina realises, and being in the middle of combustible forces only ratchets up her own sense of pleasure. She pulls on the tight curls of Walter’s head, fucks herself on his face and clever tongue. She twists into William’s touch, arching her torso, and sees the calculated distance in his eyes. Nina, like Walter, like Bell (she assumes), doesn’t believe in borders or structured rules, doesn’t believe in the dogma of marriage. Nina grew up watching the lines of misery on her mothers face and will not submit to her path. Nina has sex with whom she wants when she wants. The only guideline: the willingness of her bed partners and their ability to have fun.

She drags William into a kiss, lets their teeth clash, curls her fingers around his cock and strokes upward, pinches the tip, before gliding her hand back down. He shudders against her. Walter stabs his tongue inward, dragging against her clit, his hands pushing her thighs further apart. As lovers, they’re as night and day, Walter loses himself in the passion of the moment, his hands tugging her into position, demanding attention. Now. William never loses the keen edge of observation, cataloguing her responses, something this side of disconnected in his encounter.

Nina wants to smash through his glass wall.

William smiles at her as Bishop slides up Nina’s body, his cock slipping inside with a stretch of discomfit. Bell hooks two fingers inside Nina’s mouth, lets her tongue twirl around them, sucking hot and wet. With the other, he pinches her nipple cruelly, rolling the bud between thumb and forefinger. Nina sucks hard, showing Bell exactly what she can do if he felt inclined to put other things in her mouth. His smile twists, fractured as cubism art.

Walter’s hips snap into her, his skin slick with sweat. Nina thinks she can smell marijuana from his pores, then realises she’s still on a high. Higher. The bright afternoon sun streams through the windows and the distant foghorn of a student rally punctuates each thrust, each slap of skin against skin. She moans, deep in her throat when William slips his fingers out of her mouth.

“Relax,” he says. Confused, Nina follows him with her eyes. It takes Nina a beat to realise William wasn’t addressing her, and then he slips a finger between Walter’s cheeks. Bishop stutters to a stop, the smooth action of his body derailed, his expression almost comical. “I thought you liked experimenting,” William teases, with enough dare in his voice to make Walter grit his teeth. He presses hard into Nina, drives his hips down, away, until she feels split open, wedged and breathless under his weight. Bell follows, he cricks his finger upward and strokes. The sound Walter makes is animal low, his breath hot against the side of Nina’s throat. Her hands scrabble across his shoulders, tracing the path of latissimus dorsi, down narrow hips to the small of his back. Nina surges against Walter’s weight, cants her hips upward until he sinks an impossible inch. Walter stares at her. His curls are damp on his forehead, coltish lean, still filling into his bulk. Walter withdraws; he fucks into Bell’s hand, receding from Nina’s body like a tide, then snaps back. Behind him, William starts jerking himself off, following Walter’s movement, pressing two fingers into his body, followed by three.

Nina wants to pull William close, but she can’t quite reach him. He hangs from the periphery of her reach, tantalizingly close. His attention never wavers from Walter and Nina feels a prickle of unease before it’s washed away, drawn from her consciousness with sparks of pleasure. She comes. A click in her inner ear like a closed circuit. William stares at her, his eyes dark as a river stone.

Above her, Walter becomes increasingly erratic, his expression slack, eyes screwed shut. Nina can count the seconds down, listen to his breathy moan, except in the crucial second before he comes, William tugs him back, out of her body, until Bishop’s exposed on the rumpled sheets of the heated room. Walter convulses, upright on his knees, William’s arm braced around his chest, and comes. He messes his own chest, William’s forearm.

Nina watches the two of them and feels she’s been scorched. Walter wears his heart on his sleeve, every expression available, the guiding emotion of his actions readable as an open book. It’s not Walter who intrigues Nina but the inscrutable regard of the man behind him. William rubs off between Bishop’s thighs, closing them tight to provide the necessary friction. The tip of his cock peeks through obscenely with his each thrust. Walter’s pliable in his arms; ribs heaving like a bellows as he draws in air. Nina shifts back slightly then sits up, stomach muscles protesting, and kisses Walter’s sternum. She feels the wetness on her abdomen, upper thighs, when William finally comes.

She could live in the middle of a warzone, Nina decides, she could live there comfortably. Nina pads away from the bed, ruffles through Walter’s belongings until she finds a bong, then brings it back to the bed. William rolls onto his back, arm out-flung. “Did anyone ever tell you look like….?”

“I hate that show,” William says, vehemently.

“Walter watches it every week.”

(Regarding ages – I’m basing this on John Noble’s birth year, 1948 – and for my own purposes I’m making all three characters the same age. I realise Nimoy’s considerably older in reality but there’s the wonders of fan-fiction. As a rough guide-line, Walter’s born in ‘48, hits uni at eighteen in 1966, and is thirty at the time of Peter’s birth in ‘78).

Re: Collision Course. Walter/Nina/William

Date: 2011-09-18 01:40 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Nostalgic and searing at once; I love how you capture their attitudes and an atmosphere of breathless freedom: worlds to conquer, for Nina and for the boys too.

Re: Collision Course. Walter/Nina/William

Date: 2011-09-20 04:29 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Wow, I've longed to read threesome fic between these three ever since I started watching the show and this is absolutely amazing! I love how you've written the character dynamics, how Nina is utterly taken with Bell but sees Walter as just another conquest. I can totally see the setup for the eventual split between the three of them.

In short, this fic totally made my month and I'm grateful to whoever you are for writing it!

Re: Collision Course. Walter/Nina/William

Date: 2011-11-05 02:29 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
I've been wanting to read this threesome forever. I am lost for words. Thank you for writing it.


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