Post #1

Apr. 16th, 2011 07:02 pm
fringekink_mod: Olivia, in bed and naked under the sheets (what? Totally!), eyes closed, smiling blissfully, hair fanned out on pillow (Default)
[personal profile] fringekink_mod posting in [community profile] fringe_kinkmeme
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.

RULES

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!

REMINDERS

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).
From: (Anonymous)
Polivia, Linvia, Leeham, Pecoln, doesn't really matter which pairing, I just want two or three people waking up next to each other :D
From: (Anonymous)
D'aww, love the prompt!
From: (Anonymous)
The morning light is still tinted blue when you wake, and there's a sharp gust of air from the window. You must have left it open last night, with the room so desperately overheated. Part of that was the upper floor radiators, of course. It had been you who decided to crack the window just for a moment to let some of the Boston night air in.

Now, the heat not yet having kicked in at this early hour, your soft exhale lets your breath mist in front of your eyes. One of your arms is bare, too, on top of the covers; you shiver and pull it back under the blanket, the quilt you remember Peter, with a yawn or three, dragging out of the closet last night and, with a flourish, throwing over the bed, over you.

The memory makes you smile, but it doesn't make you warm. So, not to disturb and not to fully wake quite yet, you roll forward just a little: into the sleeping body in front of you. Your nose is cold, so you don't quite touch it to the back of his neck where the first rays of sunshine seems to highlight each of the fine hairs. But you take in his warmth, his scent, and almost (not quite) brush your lips across the soft skin. You burrow a little, reach out, and put your hands on his hips, light as the feather downs covering you. The jut of his hipbone is sharp, but you're not his mother (long dead), and besides, he's been eating a lot better, now. When you shuffle forward inch by inch until you're flush against his pajama-clad body, he does stir a little, murmuring, "Olivia?"

"Shh," you whisper, "no waking all of us up."

"Right." Although you can't see his face -- just the back of his head, his hair Other-Side-messy -- you know he's smiling. Now you press that kiss to his neck.

Lincoln sighs at that, beginning to turning slow like the tides until he's facing you. His eyes are sleep-small, more so without his glasses, although by now you're used to his face naked, not to mention the rest. "Morning," he whispers, and lets his lips brush yours once before blinking repeatedly, trying to look over your shoulder without lifting his head. "Peter still asleep?"

"No such chance." A voice still rough from sleep and the rustle of sheets behind you. Then you feel Peter's welcome weight against your back. He's broad and strong and gloriously hot in the currently most important, literal way. "Believe it or not, I was actually feeling a little cold." His left arm wraps around you from behind, and you envy him a little for his long frame because he can reach out not just across your hip but Lincoln's too, because Lincoln lets out a deep, contented hum at the touch of Peter's hand (to the small of his back? His butt?) before smiling and offering, mock-earnest in the way only this Lincoln has, "Maybe Olivia has been sneakily stealing your side of the covers again?"

"You know, I find that rather likely." Peter rubs his nose along the exposed line of your throat thoughtfully, brushing your hair aside to kiss you softly, open mouthed at the upper edge of your collarbone.

And when you shiver this time, it's definitely not from the cold.
From: (Anonymous)
That was my prompt and honestly, I can't thank you enough for this, because this is so beautiful and warm and cosy and I just want to get in there and cuddle with them :'} I love you.
From: (Anonymous)
Thank you so much! This needs a beta in the worst way, but I still like it even upon re-reading in the light of day -- writing it made me smile (and feel just like you describe). Wonderful little prompt. <3

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fringe_kinkmeme: redverse!liv sitting on peter, grabbing him by his collar (Default)
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