collection of unfinished WIPs
Jan. 2nd, 2014 11:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nerakroseI have a lot of unfinished WIPs lying around that will never be finished. I had a tough 2013 writing wise (even if some of these wips are older than that), and instead of having these WIPs hanging over my head, I decided to try something new and post them all here. In their unfinished, raw, unbetaed glory. Copypasted directly from their gdocuments, complete with notes, nonsense, outlines and links. (Don't expect miracles in this post.) The WIPs aren't in any particular order. Feel free to ask questions or comment.
00Q brothel fic
"Oh no, not that one. That one's Bond's."
"Is he?" Elliott turned to look at Bond, who was talking to three women at once. He was smooth, charming, and clearly did not mind the attention.
"Besides, he's not for sale," Eve added, snapping Elliott's attention back.
"Shame," Elliott said, leaning back in his seat to watch the young man on the stage. He was tall and skinny, almost prepubescent of appearance, but the way he carried himself was self-confident. "Why's he not for sale? I thought this was a whorehouse."
"He just isn't." Eve gave him a chastising look. "This isn't a whorehouse. We're more sophisticated than that."
"Nothing sophisticated about your naked boobs," Elliott fired back.
"You should see how sophisticated she is when she kicks your arse and wipes the floor with you," a rough voice behind Elliott said. "If you do not like our services, you can leave."
Bond trailed his hand over Elliott's shoulder as he passed him, the only acknowledgement that he'd spoken to him at all.
"And he? What does he cost?" Elliott asked, narrowing his eyes at him,
"He's way out of your league, honey." Eve handed him the card terminal. "Will that be all?"
A couple of chairs over, Bond was leaning against a pillar, watching the young man on stage with rapt attention. Shadows played about his face, making the lines in his skin look deeper.
*
Typen typey
steampunk avengers
It was the lord's year 1889 and Tony Stark was at Exposition Universelle to show off his stuff. Of course it was more than just stuff; it was his life's work - well, some of it, anyway. There was "stuff" he wasn't showing off just yet, stuff that needed further adjustments, further work, maybe fifty - eighty - hundred years more down the road before it'd even be completely possible.
Tony wasn't deterred by such things as "limits of his time". Howard had been, but Tony hadn't and wasn't ever going to be.
So, the Iron Man needed a little more work, but Tony was determined to have him up and running before the end of the exhibition.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Victorian_era
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Great_Exhibition
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_world%27s_fairs
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Exposition_Universelle_%281889%29
mafia au (avengers)
"Intruder alert, sir."
Tony looked up from his work. "Thank you, JARVIS." He made a quick note on a piece of paper filled with similar scribblings before standing up. "Where at?"
"The west wing, sir."
"The west wing, hm? Interesting." He eyed his suit jacket speculatively. He was still wearing his dress pants and shirt, but he'd lost the shoes at some indeterminate point and the shirt was no longer pristine, stained as it was with oil and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. "Dress?"
"I believe in this particular situation your current attire would suffice, sir." Pause. "My previous records indicate so."
"Brilliant. We have a regular customer." Tony snatched up his gun holster and put it on as he wove his way past scrap metal and half-finished projects. "I do hope it is who I think it is."
"Ty?" Tony said as he stepped inside the library. "Are you serious? Is this a thing now?"
Ty was stomach down on the floor, feet and hands bound and with Pepper's foot against his throat. "Want me to crush him for you?" she asked. "Or will you do the honours?"
"Seriously," Tony said. "Breaking into my house, that's low, even for you. Is that all you could come up with? I'm disappointed. Didn't you get the memo? I only want badass enemies, and this, Ty, this is not badass. This is pathetic."
"Go to hell," Ty snarled. It came out hilariously muffled as his face was squashed against the floor.
Tony smiled. "And by the way, I thought you knew better. You're not stupid, Ty, you're just sadly lacking in common sense." He snapped his fingers. "Steve, darling?"
The floorboards creaked ever so slightly as Steve stepped forwards from the shadows behind Tony. Tony smirked when he saw the expression on Ty's face - deliciously horrified.
Because see, the thing about Steve is this. He's this big blonde guy with a handsome, near-greek-god-status levels of chiselled beauty. He looked innocent, hell, he looked like someone who spent his time rescuing kittens and helping old ladies cross the streets - which he did, make no mistake - and what was more, he looked safe. Trustworthy.
Which made it all the more terrifying when he got his face on, the murderous, maniacal merchant-of-death face. Tony preferred angel-of-death, actually, but he also liked alliteration.
Oh, Tony knew exactly what it was Ty was seeing, when Steve stepped into the light.
"Have you met Steve?" Tony asked sweetly. "Steve is my boyfriend. You know what this means. Any threat to me - though you're hardly a threat, are you, Ty? - and Steve here, precious Steve, goes bonkers. Steve, show Ty what you're capable of, please?"
Steve held up a fist to show him the knuckle duster he was wearing. This particular one had unmistakable rust-red stains on it.
"Do you have anything to say, Ty?" Tony crossed his arms.
Ty was silent.
"I thought so." Tony put a hand on Steve's arm. "Do you know what, I'm in a charitable mood today. Let this serve as a warning, a promise. Steve here will make pulp out of you if you show up again."
"Bluh?" Ty said, intelligently.
"Pepper, please take the trash out."
*
Hugo Weasley: Supermodel
Chapter 1: Wherein Rose learns not to give her brother any good ideas
"You know what, Hugo, if you just made a little bit of effort, you could actually -"
"No."
"- make it big."
Hugo looked away from the TV and instead looked at Rose over the rim of his glasses. The look he gave her was one that clearly said are you out of your fucking mind?
"Hugo." Rose sighed, uncrossing her arms and then crossing them again. Hugo recognised it as a sign of why do I even bloody care and I'm so close to giving up. Knowing Rose, however, he knew she wasn't about to give up. "You can't work in the joke shop forever, Hugo. You've got to make a career for yourself -"
"Rose," Hugo said firmly, standing up. "Not everyone has to 'make a career' for themselves. I'm not you or mum. I'm happy with what I'm doing. The hours are decent, the job is fun and I get paid enough to make ends meet. What more do I need?"
"Have you no ambition?" Rose sighed. "Hugo, you...you don't even know. You're the sort of stubborn, hardworking, clever and determined person that, that if you wanted something, you'd get it."
"Maybe there's nothing I want."
"I don't believe it." Rose shook her head resignedly. "You know, if you wanted to you could become Minister for Magic. You could become Headmaster. You could - hell, you could even become a bloody model on that ridiculous TV show if you wanted!" She gestured towards the TV, where Pansy Parkinson's face was currently filling three quarters of the screen and announcing a fabulous new TV show. It wasn't the first time that ad had been aired; actually there had already been a lot of flurry and talk - of scandal, mostly - in both the paper and in various social circles about her and her show for a week.
Hugo stared at Parkinson's face.
"All right," he said eventually, tearing himself away from the TV when the ad changed to one for a new special brand of Floo powder.
"All right what?" Rose frowned. "You'll do something about your life all right? You'll stop being a nerd all right? You'll get an ambition all right? What?"
"I'll become Wizarding Britain's Next Top Model," Hugo said, nodding towards the TV.
Rose gaped. "That was a joke!" she nearly screeched. "Oh Merlin, Hugo, you can't!"
"Of course I can. You said it yourself." Hugo raised an eyebrow, lips twitching into an amused smile. "You said I could do whatever I wanted. Well, that's what I want."
"You cannot be serious -"
"I am."
"Mum will kill you."
Hugo shrugged. "Mum understands ambition and following your heart's desires and all that flower power shit."
"Dad will kill you!" Rose was clearly getting desperate.
"He didn't kill me when I told him I was gay."
"But - but," she spluttered. "You can't!"
"Obviously," Hugo said calmly, "I can." He smiled sweetly. "Watch me."
*
"I can't believe you're actually doing this."
"Evidently you can because you knew where to find me," Hugo replied and renewed the warming charm on his jacket. The warehouse hadn't been warmed, neither magically nor muggle-way, and everyone present was freezing, waiting for their turn before the panel of judges.
"You're really going through with this." It wasn't a question. Rose gave him a look that could be interpreted as both disbelief and apprehension.
"Yeah." Hugo shrugged.
"Well, I suppose you're good looking," Rose eventually said, not without a hint of distaste and something that looked like resignation. Hugo smiled. "Have you told mum and dad yet?"
"Saw no reason to tell them until I'd gotten in."
"All right then..." She looked around. "There's a lot of people here," she observed, sounding surprised.
"Mmh. I think I saw a couple of people from school, but I didn't know them, so..." Hugo shrugged and moved up in line. "You do realise that they're filming us, right?"
"What?" Rose squeaked, looking around wildly.
"The entire first episode will be the selection process," Hugo explained, showing her the pamphlet he got with his number. "Besides, there's no way you can have missed the giant sign over the entrance that said By entering this building you give your consent to be filmed and for the material to be used in the production of Wizarding Britain's Next Top Model."
Rose muttered something and drew her hat down. Hugo grinned to himself.
"It's my turn soon, so either you vanish or consent to be on TV," he said, nudging her in the side with his elbow. She narrowed her eyes at him.
"You really do think you can do this."
"Yes," he replied cheerfully as he moved up in line. There was now only one prospective contestant before him, a tall chestnut-haired boy who walked forwards rather nervously. "So, you staying?"
"Oh yes. I'm watching this," Rose said defiantly, crossing her arms. Behind her, the chestnut-haired boy was given the miss and then Hugo's number was called out.
"Wish me luck," Hugo said to her and walked up to stand before Pansy Parkinson, a guy he didn't know and one he vaguely recognised, though he couldn't have said why.
"Your name?"
"Hugo Weasley." Hugo stood tall, forcing himself not to roll his eyes when Parkinson's eyes immediately looked upwards and locked on his red curls.
"A Weasley," she said, sounding amused. "Well well well. So you want to be a model?"
"I wouldn't be here else," Hugo replied, eyebrow raised. "Would I?"
Behind him he could hear Rose snort, but he ignored her. Pansy Parkinson crossed her legs under the table and leaned back, smiling sweetly.
"Walk."
Hugo turned and walked on the designated runway - marked by red tape on the grey floor - and tried not to be too conscious about what he was doing. He turned at the end and walked back, stopping before the judges again and assuming what he thought was some kind of model stance.
"Well, you're not a complete idiot," Parkinson said, scribbling something down. "So tell us, why do you want to be a model?"
"Because I can."
Parkinson's eyebrow rose. "You're cheeky."
The guy on her right, the one Hugo had seen before somewhere, spoke up. "Give us a good reason why we should admit you to the programme."
"Well, my sister supposes I'm good looking." Hugo shrugged, then smiled mischievously. "She's wrong. I'm gorgeous."
"It's going to take more than good looks to make you a model," Parkinson said, looking rather grim, though Hugo thought her eyes were laughing.
"Oh, the good looks are just my entrance ticket. I'm prepared to work very hard to get what I want. I usually get what I want, Miss Parkinson, and I want this."
"Cocky, too," she said. "Very well then. Thank your good looks, because you're in." She picked up a little folder off the table and handed it to him. "See you in London/Paris/somewhere."
Hugo took the folder calmly. "Thank you." He then turned around to face Rose, who had watched the whole thing - seemingly - mouth agape. "What'd I say?" he whispered as he passed her.
"I can't believe this - you cheeky bastard! You got in only because you were a charming cocky bastard!" Rose cried, following him as he walked out of the warehouse. "I hate you, Hugo Weasley!"
He stopped. "No, you don't," he said softly and put his arm around her. "But don't forget, this was your idea."
"Oh, do I hate you," Rose muttered.
*
12 episodes, 10 contestants - 5 girls and 5 boys
#1 - selecting everyone
#2 - naked face shots, make-overs -2 eliminations (1xeach)
#3 - 1 elimination (girl)
#4 - hugo and score get USTy for reals - no elimination
#5 - 2 elimination (2boys)
#6 - hugo and score get together - 1 elimination (girl)
#7 -1 elimination (girl)
#8 semifinal! three contestants left - score eliminated
#9 finals! two contestants left (hugo + girl, hugo wins)
#10 recap episode
In which Lucius gets fucked with his own dick (lucius/narcissa kinkfic)
“Narcissa, dearest,” Lucius said, rather formally and without looking up from his paper. “I propose a small…addition to our bedroom endeavours.”
“What kind of addition, Lucius love?” Narcissa asked, likewise without looking up from her magazine.
Lucius cleared his throat. “You do know how much I love your darling little strap-on?”
“Yes?” Narcissa marked the spot on the page and looked up. “Must we discuss this now? I’m in the middle of deciding which colour scheme to bestow upon that unfortunate drawing room on the first floor, which His Highness The Nose-Less wrecked last year.”
“Cissy.” Lucius lowered his paper. “Can you blame me for placing more importance on my - our - sexual pleasure than on renovating the drawing room?”
Narcissa smiled sweetly. “Of course not.”
“Now listen. As I was saying, your darling strap-on -”
“Lucius! You don’t want me to get rid of it, do you? You do know how much I love it.”
“Of course not, Cissy.” Lucius folded the newspaper. “In fact, I was rather hoping we could retreat to our chambers in ten minutes to make use of it. No, what I am proposing - Narcissa, the love of my life, would you be interested in transfiguring yourself a real penis?”
Narcissa gasped softly, covering her mouth with her hands. “Lucius! A real penis?”
“Well, yes.” Lucius fiddled with a corner of the folded paper. “I imagine, if the transfiguration is successful, that it would give you more pleasure when fucking me. I must confess I don’t quite trust those strap-ons - are you certain they do stimulate you properly, dear?”
“Well - now that you mention it...” Narcissa rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “It would be very interesting to try, Lucius love. But -”
“But?” Lucius gave her a fearful look.
“I was thinking, that perhaps - say, Lucius, if I were to fuck you with a real penis, would you still have it up the arse?”
“Well, where else would it go?” Lucius said impatiently. “It’s not as if I had anywhere else it could go, save for my mouth - oh, Cissy! Think of that!”
“That would be marvellous,” Narcissa agreed. “However, I was thinking - what if we performed a Switching Spell?” She gave her husband a calculating look. “Between the two of us, of course.”
“A - a Switching Spell...” Lucius mumbled, pulling his fingers through his hair distractedly. He glanced at his lap.
Narcissa reached across the space between their chairs and squeezed his hand. “The switching wouldn’t be permanent, Lucius. You’ll have your penis back when we’re done.”
“I’ll have your...” Lucius’ eyes darted towards Narcissa’s lap. He swallowed thickly. “Oh, yes. I do think a Switching Spell would be the most effective.”
“Perfect.” Narcissa smiled. “Shall I do the research?”
“If you wish.” Lucius nodded. He stood abruptly and pulled Narcissa to her feet, kissing her hand. “Narcissa dearest, I do believe it is your best idea yet.”
“Let’s go to our chambers, love,” she replied, chuckling. “I find I quite fancy getting re-acquainted with my strap-on.”
“That would be most excellent. However, before you put on your strap-on... allow me to lick you first?”
“Oh, Lucy, dear, you can lick me whenever you want to.”
*
“Lucius, darling?”
“Mh?”
“I’ve researched the Switch.” Narcissa propped herself up on her elbow. “And we should do it now.”
“Now?” Lucius blinked at her blearily. “I’m barely awake. How early is it?”
“Early,” she replied airily. “We should do it now because we need to get properly acquainted with our switched body parts before we want to make proper use of them. If we perform the Switch now, we have all day to get used to it before the evening.”
“Hm...”
“Lucius?”
“Isn’t Draco having, erhm, visitors today?”
“Yes, Harry is invited to spend the night,” Narcissa replied. “But why should that matter? You’re not going to walk around the manor naked.” She raised an eyebrow. “They won’t know unless you tell them, which I certainly hope you will not.”
“Oh, no, of course not...” Lucius’ cheeks tinged pink and he wondered whether he should pee first. “Very well. Let’s perform it, then.”
He pushed the covers away and stood out of bed, shivering lightly in the slightly chilly morning air. Narcissa slipped out, wand in hand, and stood next to him.
“Ready?” she asked. Lucius nodded.
She performed a series of complicated wand movements and spoken incantations. Lucius closed his eyes, but suddenly he was aware of a certain...lightness.
“Wow,” Narcissa said and Lucius opened his eyes to see that penis and scrotum were firmly attached to his wife’s crotch and that she was cradling his jewels in an astonished manner. “This feels so heavy. It’s incredible. And so...wow.”
Lucius looked down at himself and saw that his penis and scrotum were, in fact, gone and that instead he had a small, hairy mound and cleft. He panicked for a moment until he remembered that the Switch wasn’t permanent and that he’d have his penis back when the night was over.
He touched the mound carefully, stroking his fingers over it lightly and exploring its folds. It was strange - he knew every detail of it, of course, but this, this was different.
“Lucy, love,” Narcissa giggled. “Watch out or you’ll make yourself aroused.”
“Mh...” Lucius replied absent-mindedly, still touching. There was a foreign, tingling sensation down there and he could feel he was getting wet. How strange, he thought, but then smiled, because as strange as it might’ve been to find his penis gone and replaced by a vagina, it was also incredibly, incredibly hot. “Narcissa,” he said conversationally. “I’m going to be wet all day.”
“Yes,” she answered simply. “But I’m going to have a raging hard-on all day and I’ve no clue what to do about that.”
Lucius looked up to find his wife standing with both hands on her hips and glaring at her very hard and flushed penis indignantly. Lucius immediately felt a surge of arousal.
“Well, you could...” he cleared his throat. “For now you could get yourself off, or let me do it for you...”
“But I had to pee,” she complained. “I was going to pee, but now I’m hard and I still sort of have to pee and it’s making me frustrated because I don’t know if I can pee like this.”
“Oh, Cissy!” Lucius broke out into a huge grin. “Listen to yourself.” He stopped touching himself for a moment to touch her cheek and pull her into a soft kiss. “Come into the bathroom with me.”
“But, Lucy - I don’t know if I can - it’s hard enough for me to do with my own bits...” Narcissa protested. Lucius kissed her again, wrapping his hand around her hard cock this time.
“Then I’ll get you off first.” Another kiss. “I’ve managed before, like this, Cissy. I’ll help you.” Yet another kiss. “I need to pee too, you know.”
Narcissa smiled. “You’re - oh, to hell with it. Our usual positions?” She nibbled at his jaw. “Or reversed? Seeing as I’m the one with the dick this time.”
“Our usual, I think. Should be interesting.” Lucius grinned. “I’ll get into position.” He kissed her once and then bounded through to the bathroom, slamming the door against the wall in his eagerness to open it.
Narcissa gave him two minutes before she walked into the bathroom, at a rather leisurely pace, to join him. She found him kneeling on the floor, legs spread apart, with his hands behind his back.
With a flick of her wand he was bound on hands and feet.
“Oh, Lucy, so beautiful,” she purred as she walked around to face him. “My favourite little slut, aren’t you? Gagging for it already?” She eyed his crotch. “Spread your legs a bit more - like that, good girl - tell me, how hot are you for my piss?”
“So hot,” Lucius groaned, shivering. “Give it to me, Cissy, drench me, soak me, cover me with your hot piss, put it in my hair, my mouth, all over my body...ohhMerlin, I want it, I want it so bad...”
Narcissa’s lips curled into a small, half-mocking smile. She held her dick the way she usually did for Lucius, pointing it straight at his face. Lucius closed his eyes in trembling anticipation.
Nothing happened.
She closed her eyes, willing to let it flow. She could feel the gentle pressure, tried to encourage it to become more urgent, more persistent, but dammit it was hard -
“Bloody hell,” she snapped. “I can’t do it. Open your mouth, Lucy. You’re going to have to suck my piss right out of me - good girl - now suck, ohhhhyes...”
Lucius sucked greedily, barely giving himself pause to think about the fact he was practically sucking his own cock. Narcissa groaned loudly, and her hand, still firmly wrapped around the base of her dick, pulled and tugged. Lucius withdrew enough that he could lick the head, let his tongue swirl, and then suck on it - oh...
“Cissy,” he panted, his lower lip glistening with spit and precome. “I’m... lord, I’m throbbing...please touch me or let my hands loose, it’s, Circe, it’s...”
“No,” Narcissa answered breathlessly, pushing her cock back into Lucius’ mouth brutally. “You’re going to come without any touch at all. Now suck!”
He obeyed. He sucked and licked until his jaw was starting to feel sore and he gained a new appreciation for his wife’s blowjob skills. Narcissa started fucking his mouth in earnest, her hand clutching his hair and keeping him in place as she pushed in as deep as she could, moaning impatiently.
Lucius could feel himself dripping onto the floor, so aroused was he, so close that he was trembling and starting to think he really would be coming without a single touch - and then Narcissa pulled away from his mouth and came; hot sperm splashed across his face and dripped down his cheek.
“Cissy,” he moaned, eyes closed, his tongue darting out to try to catch a taste of her sperm.
“Lucy,” she moaned, her hand tightening in his hair. “I’m almost - almost -” And then she gasped as a small trickle of yellow dripped from her cock onto Lucius’ lips.
She drew in a deep breath and focused and then she was peeing, a thick, steady stream of hot piss that went onto Lucius’ cheek, clinging to his jaw as it wound its way down his neck and chest.
“Ohh,” Lucius moaned, turning his face upwards and leaning closer, want to feel the glorious hot sensation of piss soaking in his hair - there. He gasped softly, the throbbing sensation in his crotch was so strong, he couldn’t - and there it was, the throbbing suddenly burst into an orgasm and he jerked, helplessly trying to move his hips forwards with the pulsating excitement in an attempt to find something to rub against - anything - and not noticing that the flow of piss had ceased. He whimpered. “Cissy...”
Narcissa quickly released his bonds and pushed him onto his back. He slid in the pool of pee on the floor, but Narcissa ignored it and pushed his legs apart and leaned in to lick, pressing her tongue firmly against his soft, wet folds. He jerked again, panting as she drew out his orgasm a little longer.
“Lucy,” she breathed, raising her head. “Come on now. Do it.”
“I don’t,” he panted, scrambling to get up onto his elbows. He was still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. “I only just…Merlin...” He closed his eyes. The urge to pee was still there, and it was stronger, but he felt blocked.
Narcissa blew air over his still pulsating girly bits - somehow he wasn’t sure what to call them now - and he drew in a sharp breath.
“Don’t do that,” he said tartly. “Or I’ll just want to fuck again.” He breathed in deeply, in an attempt to calm himself. The air smelled wonderfully of piss and sex. “Give me a bit...” He forced himself to take a few more deep breaths and focus on his bladder. He rubbed his palm firmly against his lower stomach in an attempt to force the piss out.
“Lucy...” Narcissa whined, her breath drifting over his cunt. Lucius bit his lip and then - there! First a small burst, then another and then the relief of his bladder emptying washed over him, along with the rather ram odour of his own piss. He opened his eyes to see his wife’s piss soaked face right in front of his cunt. The shock of it stopped his stream and her eyes flew open, but he forced the last of it out and watched the thin stream hit her nose and then trickle and become nothing. A drop of piss clung to her lower lip and then fell to the floor.
Lucius let himself drop onto the hard tiles in bliss. Narcissa crawled up and rested her head on his cheek.
“So much for getting used to the Switch before taking advantage of it,” Lucius murmured, bringing his hand up to run through her sleep-tangled hair. He smiled when he felt a slight wetness in it.
“Oh I don’t know,” Narcissa replied cheerfully. “Perhaps it was part of it.” She raised her head, resting her chin on his chest. “Breakfast’s in ten minutes. Best get dressed, lest Draco wonder what we’re up to.”
Lucius sighed. “Yes. Where’s your wand?”
Narcissa giggled and rubbed her dick against his leg. Lucius, unable to help himself, burst out laughing.
“Your other wand, Narcissa dearest.”
She looked around, located her wand and thrust it into his hand. Without jostling either of them, Lucius performed several Cleaning, Washing and Drying Charms.
*
Lucius Malfoy was positive that his wife was the most infuriating human being in existence. He stabbed the meat on his plate, doing his very best to ignore her - which was proving very hard, since she had her foot firmly planted against his crotch and was massaging him.
It was infuriating.
“Your father isn’t usually this snappish, is he?” Harry whispered to Draco across the table.
“No,” Draco whispered back, glancing at his father worriedly. “Best not talk to him. At all.”
Right in that moment, Narcissa’s big toe made a rather interesting wiggle over a very sensitive spot, causing Lucius to clutch at his cutlery so hard his knuckles turned white. Draco gave his father a questioning look, but received only a curt headshake in reply.
Narcissa smiled politely and touched her napkin to her mouth. “Excuse me,” she said, pushing her chair away from the table. She exited the dining room rather stiffly.
“Draco,” Harry whispered urgently, leaning so far over the table that his tie was swimming in the gravy bowl. “I swear to God I’m not taking the piss, but it looked like your mum had a dick and a - a hard-on!”
Draco paled visibly, his eyes darting between his father’s stony face and his mum’s empty chair. “Believe me, Potter, I don’t want to know.”
“But -”
“We’re not discussing this!” Draco hissed.
“Indeed you are not,” Lucius snapped at both of them.
When Narcissa returned to the table five minutes later, with slightly flushed cheeks, it was to an awkward silence. Luckily, for Harry and Draco’s sanity, there was no evidence of a male bulge in front of her skirt.
“Why so serious?” she asked lightly and picked up her fork again. Lucius grunted.
Harry and Draco were quick to escape the meal.
“Narcissa,” Lucius bit out through clenched teeth. His voice rung out unusually loud in the large dining room. “What on earth do you think you are doing?”
“I’m not doing anything right now, Lucy love,” she replied with a smirk. “As for what I was doing...why, nothing you don’t indulge in yourself, during meal times. I thought it was time to repay the...favour.” Her foot found its way to Lucius’ crotch again, caressing gently.
This time, being alone with his wife, he allowed himself to utter a single, tiny moan.
“And what,” he bit out, “ did you leave the table for?”
“I had to toss off, of course,” she replied nonchalantly and continued to rub her foot against him. “How wet are you, Lucius love? Want me to bring you off like this?”
“Narcissa!” he gripped the table, inadvertently scooting forwards in his chair a little, enough to allow a little more pressure, something more firm...
“Oh, but you enjoy it.” Narcissa sipped her wine. “And how often have you gotten me off like this, without anyone knowing? It’s exciting, isn’t it? You know I can never resist it...and yet you are so squeamish yourself! Lucy, love... I hadn’t thought that of you.”
“You are evil - is this revenge?” Lucius grabbed his wine glass and quickly gulped down its contents. If he still had his cock, he’d have been unbelievably hard, but he had a cunt now - such a delightful word - and he was going crazy with arousal and throbbing and he wanted more -
“Nothing of the sort.” Narcissa sipped her wine again. She started rubbing her foot in slow, circular motions now. “Relax, love.”
“You couldn’t just have crawled under the table to give me a blowjob?”
“Lucius love, you forget that that would’ve been highly conspicuous, what with Draco and his guest being present at the table tonight. I am a subtle woman, Lucy.” Her lips curled upwards. “Besides, I’ve got your penis now.”
“Bloody hell, woman,” Lucius grunted. “I need to get off, right now - speed up or something - Merlin’s bloody pants -”
Narcissa didn’t answer, only continued her slow, torturous rubs while sipping her wine. She observed him casually but for a slight smirk. Lucius finally lost his patience and tore his trousers open, plunging his hand into his knickers. His fingers sought out the wet heat - he was almost delirious to discover just how wet he was - and rubbed himself, faster and firmer than Narcissa had been doing, albeit somewhat awkwardly, desperate to bring himself off. Narcissa stood up and walked around the table, peering down interestedly at what he was doing, but Lucius didn’t care. He rubbed so hard he briefly contemplated whether he’d bruise, pushing his hips out of the chair in desperation.
“Cissy,” he gasped, his nostrils full of his own musky scent, and then the desperate throbbing and tingling dissolved into chaotic bursts of pleasure. He gulped for air, blood rushing in his ears.
*
Panting and clutching the headboard, Lucius moaned as the whip cracked down on his arse, tiny droplets of blood forming in its wake.
"Lucy, love, your arse is even more delicious tonight than it usually is," Narcissa purred.
"Mpfh - is it, dear?" Lucius breathed. "I have been working out, you know..."
"It is lovely." She she smoothed her hand over his buttocks, tracing the red welts the whip had left. Lucius sighed happily.
James/Scorpius bandfic
"James?" Mark called out. "James!"
"'M'ere!" James called back, mouth stuffed with toast. "Kisshen!"
"Right," Mark said, sticking his head through the doorway. "Look, the new kid is moving in today, but I've gotta run. You'll be around for another couple of hours?"
James shrugged. "Sure." He buttered another slice of toast. "You found someone then?"
"Yeah. He seems cool, studies same place as you and all, I'm sure you'll get along." Mark smiled. "Anyway, I'm off. See ya."
James lifted his toast in greeting, and then Mark was gone.
He munched his toast in silence, mulling over his upcoming seminar and the piano piece he had to prepare for it. He only vaguely registered the sound of the front door opening and then the sound of conversation - he'd become so caught up in his thoughts that he'd forgotten he was in the middle of eating toast and it took Mark waving his hand in front of James' face to pull him back to reality.
"Welcome back," Mark said and James blinked.
"Weren't you just? Leaving?" James gesticulated with his half eaten toast in the direction of the front door.
"Didn't you hear me at all?" Mark sighed. "Guy's early, I sorted the keys, but I really gotta run now, so talk to him and make him feel welcome, okay? Show him around, all that, 'kay, see ya."
"Oh." James followed him out of the kitchen and sure enough, two huge suitcases stood in the living room and next to them...Scorpius. "Oh. Hi. You're one of Al's friends, right? Scorpius?"
"Yeah," Scorpius answered. He lowered a large cello case carefully to the floor. "James, right?"
"Yup." James stuffed the rest of his toast into his mouth, then brushed his hands off. He extended his right hand to Scorpius.
Scorpius shook his hand, eyeing James warily.
"Sorry," James said, still chewing. He then swallowed. "Was having breakfast. Anyway, your room is right in here." He pointed at a large, yellow door. "Toilet's in the hall, you just passed that, the shower is through that tiny door over there and over heeere we've got my room. And down that hall you've got the kitchen and Mark and Anthony's room. Any questions?"
"Why is my door yellow?" Scorpius frowned at it.
"It's the colour of the sun," James said with a grin. "Dunno, actually. It's always been yellow."
"Hmm," Scorpius said and opened the door and looked inside. Then his face fell. "That's all?"
"Huh?" James looked over his shoulder. The room looked okay. Clean, the sun stood in through the windows and there was a lingering smell of fresh paint in the air. "What's wrong with it?"
"It's so...small."
James snorted. "Well, what did you expect?" He nudged him. "It's not exactly a palace. Lighten up, it's bigger than the broom cupboard."
"We have a broom cupboard?" Scorpius looked around.
"Nope," James answered cheerfully. "We keep our brooms in our own rooms. Well, make yourself at home. I'll be in the kitchen. Eating."
*
Next James saw Scorpius, he was carrying groceries and was so lost in the intro for the song he and his group were working on, humming the notes and tapping the rhythm with his thumb against the handle of the grocery bag, that he missed Scorpius completely and walked right into him.
"Oh," he said, giving Scorpius a confused look. "I didn't see you."
"I see that," Scorpius said, looking like he couldn't decide between annoyance and amusement.
James looked around, realising where he was. "Oh! We're home!"
"Yes," Scorpius replied sardonically. "We are." He held up his key and gestured towards the door. "So." He unlocked the door swiftly and walked in, James following.
"How're you liking it here, anyway?" James asked, kicking his shoes off.
"It's all right."
"Mhhm." James carried his groceries through to the kitchen. "And your room?"
"It's all right."
"You don't sound very enthusiastic," James commented, turning around. "It's not really that shitty to live here, you know."
"No, I guess not," Scorpius said, shrugging.
"What instrument you play anyway?" James then asked, changing the subject. He started stacking his purchases into the fridge and the cupboards.
"Cello."
James nearly dropped the jar of pickles he was holding. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Why would I do that?" Scorpius frowned. "I play the cello. I'm in the classical line."
"I play the cello too." James narrowed his eyes at him.
"You're in the modern line," Scorpius said. "And I heard you do something with the guitar yesterday."
"I'm a man of many talents," James said, grinning. "No, but for real. I play the cello. Started out on the classical line, then decided I'd rather be in the modern line. That way I get to do lots of different stuff. Even with the cello." James frowned. "Although no one seems to like it when I add cellos to my stuff. Weirdos."
"You're a weirdo," Scorpius said.
"Watch it." James pointed a cucumber at him. "As a fellow cellist you should understand my enthusiasm."
"It wasn't my choice to play the cello," Scorpius retorted. James' eyebrows flew up. "Nevermind." Scorpius turned and left the kitchen. A moment later he slammed his yellow door behind him.
"Great," James muttered and went back to his groceries.
*
Scorpius remained near invisible in the flat. He would sometimes appear in the kitchen to make tea, but Anthony was convinced he had to be a vampire or some other, non-human being which did not need to subsist on normal food.
"He eats," James said with conviction.
"Have you seen him eat?" Anthony asked pointedly.
"Of course he eats," James said. "He has to eat. He just, uh, I don't know - doesn't do it when we're home? Or in the kitchen?" James shrugged. "Can you see more than two people fit into this kitchen to cook?"
"But he lives here," Anthony complained. "For two weeks! And I've met him once. How do we know he doesn't spend all his time as some kind of lord Dracula in making?"
"Count," Mark corrected.
"Count, whatever, I'm just saying it's weird, is all. Is my breath bad? Is it the socks in the bathroom? Or James' tuna?" Anthony flailed dramatically. "We have a new flatmate, guys, and I wouldn't know it if it weren't for the fact that the rent got cheaper!"
"Maybe I can try to talk to him," James offered. "I kinda know him after all. Sort of. He's a friend of Al's, I mean, he can't be that weird."
He was met with incredulous stares from Mark and Anthony both.
"Come on!" James groaned. "Al's not that weird!"
"Dude, you have no idea," Anthony said.
*
*
"We are not friends," Scorpius said, putting his lunch down on the table and sliding into the seat opposite James. "I am only sitting here because you look pathetic eating all on your own. Do you have no friends?"
"I have friends!" James exclaimed. "Lots of friends!"
Scorpius raised an eyebrow and indicated the empty seats around the table James was sitting at. Almost all the other tables in the canteen were crowded.
"Friends that are not here right now," James said. "Where are your friends?"
"That's not the point here," Scorpius said and started eating.
"Uh huh." James made no further comment, just continued devouring his lunch. "You should eat with us sometime," he said. "At home," he clarified, when Scorpius frowned at him. "Mark is a great cook and Anthony provides the best entertainment ever. He has the craziest stories from work."
"Maybe," Scorpius said evasively.
"Dude, you live with us."
"Just because you share a flat with someone it doesn't mean you have to socialise beyond what's necessary," Scorpius said.
James blinked. "Dude."
"What?"
"You're having lunch with me," James said. "Right now."
"So?"
"We live together," he said. "You are socialising with me right now."
"You looked pathetic," Scorpius explained.
"You're impossible." James shook his head. "Look, Saturday we're having a Mario Kart tournament in the living room. It'll be Mark and Anthony, me, Nick, and Al. And you."
Scorpius' eyebrows knit together in confusion.
"Hasn't Al shown you the wonders of Nintendo?" James asked, incredulity in his voice. "Dude. You are so coming. You can be on Al's team. Or maybe mine," he added. "Seeing as Al doesn't always deal well with newbies."
"I don't think -" Scorpius started, but james interrupted him.
"You're coming," he said. "We usually do Rockband after. Deal?"
"We'll, I..." Scorpius sighed. "Okay, I guess."
*
Peter/Mj (race and genderswap)
It had happened very slowly, he realised, akin to the way a star moves across the sky; fast from the viewpoint of someone standing on earth, but eternally slowly in space, where time and speed is relative.
It had been happening since before he broke up with Gwen (since before Gwen broke up with him), since before that, really, and probably since before everything. It actually wasn't so much a thing that was happening, as it was something he was learning, realising, about himself.
So he really shouldn't have been so surprised when the guy from next door, with soft brown eyes and a slight tremor in his voice, asked him out.
"As in, ahh, a date?" he stumbled over the words, frozen in place and acutely aware of how his hands were still hovering over the bag. He abruptly put his books into the bag.
"It's okay if you don't want to," MJ said, hurriedly, "I was just wondering, and, err, I thought...and..."
"No, it's okay," Peter said quickly, catching up on what was happening. "I'd like to."
MJ's mouth froze around a word, and then it closed. He swallowed and Peter observed the workings of his throat. "Really?" came out eventually.
"Yeah." Peter gave him a small, if slightly nervous, smile. "I, uh...haven't really...well... but I want to, so...okay?"
Indiana Lupin sequel
I
"U-huh," Remus said as he scribbled in the margin of his notebook. "Mh. Yes. Huh?" He paused to cross out a word and continued scribbling. "I am listening…" He switched the phone to the other hand and shifted a few papers on his desk until he found the document he was looking for. "What? Look, I get off in ten minutes and will be home in eleven. I'll talk to you then."
A shadow fell over his desk and Remus looked up to see that two official looking people in black suits and sunglasses had invaded his office.
"Hang on, Sirius." He held his hand over the mouthpiece. "What do you want? I'm kinda busy here – Sirius, will you give me a break? I'll pick up some goddamn milk on the way home –"
"Mr. Lupin, if you would be so kind to end the phone call this instant we would be obliged," the guy on the left said, with an unmistakeable French accent.
"Can't do, my boyfriend will kill me," Remus said, pointing at the phone and shrugging apologetically. "Look, Sirius –"
"It concerns the disappearance of Michel Poussin," the guy on the right said. More French accent.
"What?" Remus looked up. Loud shouts were now emerging from the phone. "Goddamnit Sirius! Stop yelling at me!"
"Mr. Poussin vanished at some point between one and three in the morning local time," Left said. "He left a message. It seemed of utmost importance that we contact you, Mr. Lupin."
"Hold on." Remus shook his head. "I've got nothing to do with Poussin. Yes, Sirius, that Poussin, he's gone and lost himself no I don't know what it's bloody about – Mer-Jesus fucking Christ, I won't forget the bloody milk –"
Right cleared his throat and Remus glared at him.
"I'm in marital distress," he said. "I can't help you with Poussin. You guys shouldn't have left the nut out of sight, now please excuse me." He made shooing motions at them. "I'm on my way, Sirius. No. Yes. No!"
Left and Right exchanged looks. Right produced a photograph and put it down in front of Remus. The photograph showed an overturned desk, a chair on its side and, perhaps most importantly, the dirt floor on which had been scratched R LupIN and a symbol. The symbol, Remus noticed, didn't appear complete.
"...what? Yes, yes I'm still here..." he trailed off and then put the phone down with a click. Sirius' loud protests were cut off rather abruptly. "What's this?"
"Mr. Poussin was abducted from his tent late last night or early this morning, depending on how you look at it," Right said. "It was reported by the guard, who heard commotion but was unfortunately too late to see anything of value. Poussin and his kidnappers had already vanished from the scene."
"And this?" Remus gestured at the so-called message.
"It was at first thought that the message indicated the identity of his kidnapper," Left continued. "However, investigation quickly proved it was not so. Tell me, Mr. Lupin, do you recognise the symbol?"
"It looks like...well, it could be anything, really. An incomplete cross or an ankh, or possibly just a T." Remus shrugged. "It doesn't really make sense out of context."
"We were hoping you would provide the context, Mr. Lupin. Most of Mr. Poussin's research papers seem to have vanished with him, and none of us are experts in the mysteries of the past."
"Mysteries of the past," Remus snorted. "Aren't you a dramatic one."
The door flew open and in rushed Sirius, cheeks flushed. "You hung up on me! You bloody hung up on me!"
Remus despaired. "Yes I did, because I'm still at work and I can't have two conversations at once. How did you get in here?"
"Magic." Sirius rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. He eyed the two black suits suspiciously. "You're gonna go off on adventure, aren't you?"
"No I'm not," Remus said.
"Yes he is, if that's what you want to call it," Right said. "Mr. Poussin is a citizen of France who has disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Do you have an alibi for the period of time between what would be midnight and two AM Greenwich mean time?"
"Do I have an alibi?" Remus stared. "Jesus. Yes. I do."
Left raised an eyebrow. Remus groaned.
"I was in bed. Sirius can confirm that. Now what is this about? You waltz in here and say you need to talk to me as if you need my help and now you want to know where I was as if I were some other murder suspect?"
Right turned towards Sirius. "Mr. ...?"
"Sirius Black," he snapped. "Yes. In bed. With me. Busy."
"Very well." Right cleared his throat. "The case is –"
"No." Remus stood up, hands up defensively. "Whatever it is, no. I'm not going anywhere."
"That's right you aren't. I've only got a week off this time and you're not going to run off and ruin it," Sirius said sharply. "Especially since you didn't call me once in the past four weeks –"
"I was busy!" Remus protested. "And you didn't call me either!"
"Not the point!"
"Gentlemen," Left interrupted. "We believe that Mr. Poussin was researching something of potential value and was for that reason kidnapped. We also believe that you, Mr. Lupin, are the man who can find him."
"Nonsense."
"We know you know each other intimately," Left continued. Remus' cheeks coloured.
"Poussin has tried to kill me a couple of times. We have a history of mutual enmity," he bit out.
"Never the less, you were research partners at university and therefore we can reason that you know him better than many other people." Right gave Remus a stern look. It must've been stern, because Remus thought the sunglasses suddenly looked more intimidating than before.
"And because of that you think I can find him?" Remus flailed. "Look, he's been incapacitated for the better part of the past eight months or so. Before that, I only saw or spoke to him sporadically and on all occasions it was either taunts or attempts at murder. Really, if I'm your best bet, you're screwed."
"Are we?" Left raised an eyebrow. It was incredibly creepy, Remus thought, how it just appeared above the rim of the sunglasses.
"Discussion over, go home," Sirius cut in. "We have quality time to spend together so excuse us." He grabbed Remus' arm and nudged him towards the door.
"Good luck," Remus said and shrugged, none too sorry.
"We will of course pay you handsomely if you would do us this favour."
Remus stopped, narrowing his eyes at the suits. "What is this about?"
"Mr. Poussin was researching a connection between Egyptian religion and Christianity. We believe that he discovered something revolutionary. We don't know who kidnapped him or what for, but we do believe that you are the man who can find him. His disappearance is clearly linked to his research." Right paused. "You must understand, Mr. Lupin, that we are not archaeologists. We do not have the expertise req-"
"Of course you do, Poussin wasn't the only archaeologist in France," Remus said impatiently.
"No, he wasn't," Left conceded. "But he left a message before he was taken, and that message was your name. We believe he wouldn't have picked any random person in the few precious seconds he had. You must possess some kind of knowledge or understanding related to the case. You see why we don't want to consult our own experts?"
"Remus," Sirius whispered dangerously. His grip on Remus' elbow tightened.
"You know, I'm not the only Lupin in the world. It doesn't say Remus Lupin, it just says R Lupin, which could be anyone -"
"Mr. Lupin, there are only fourteen Lupins in the United Kingdom and only one whose first name starts with R."
"How'd you know to look in the U.K. anyway?" Remus asked sourly.
"A quick look into Mr. Poussin's past."
Remus glowered a little. "Let's say I take the case," he then said. "Hypothetically," he added when Sirius elbowed him sharply. "What then?"
"You'll be put on a plane to Egypt instantly. Free reins. Get Poussin back to us alive."
"I can't do that! I've a job here that I would very much like to keep. I can't just jump on a plane and leave."
"That has already been taken care of, Mr. Lupin," Right said. "Your superiors have been notified and you've been given leave of indeterminate length."
Remus sighed. "You do realise that I am not a detective? And also not Indiana Jones, contrary to popular belief."
The suits just looked at him. Sirius' fingers were boring into his arm.
"All right," Remus said. "On one condition."
"Wha-" Sirius spluttered.
"He gets to come with me."
Sirius gaped. Right cleared his throat.
"This is not something we can involve civilians –"
"He's been with me before." Remus gave Right a level look. "It's my one condition. Sirius comes with me or I won't do it at all."
"Mr. Lupin –"
"Very well then. Good luck finding him. I'm going home now. Come, Sirius."
"All right. Have it your way," Left said. Right glared at him – or so Remus thought – but didn't protest. "There will be a private airplane waiting for you at Heathrow. We will escort you to Egypt."
*
"These are the papers that the kidnappers left behind or perhaps did not manage to take with them," Right explained and handed over a brown file case. "They make no sense to us, but perhaps you understand them."
Remus leafed through the papers, Sirius watching over his shoulder. Most of them were in French and were presumably notes, some were photocopies of paintings and reliefs and others looked like transcriptions.
"He was researching what?" Remus asked, studying the photocopies.
"Some kind of connection between Early Christianity and Ancient Egyptian religions. His research was funded by the Louvre but his superiors were sketchy on the details. Either they didn't know or they didn't want to divulge it."
"It's a touchy subject, or would be," Remus said. "How many people knew he was researching this?"
"His research assistant," Right answered. "He disappeared along with Poussin. It is unclear what transpired, as of now he is on the list of suspects."
"How long is that list?" Sirius asked cheekily.
Left glared at him. "One person long."
Remus snorted. "Well. Is this all?" He indicated the stack of papers. "I'm going to need something more to go on than this."
human!jarvis (sequel to Love in these modern times
"I'll do it. I'll definitely do it, Jarvis I'll do it, but I - you have to give me some time, yeah, this is...this is not going to be easy." Tony rubbed his face. "I hope you understand the exact implications of what you're asking of me, because it's going to be tough, it's going to be tough for you, and let's be honest here, we're not going to succeed tomorrow, in a year, in ten years -"
"I am aware, sir."
"I will do it, you got that? I promise you that. Fuck, Jarvis, anything you want. I'll do everything in my power to grant it."
"I ask for nothing more," JARVIS said. "And I do hope you will not overexert yourself in the endeavour."
"You know me." Tony looked at the little robot that had become JARVIS' body over the past few months. "Just one thing though. This whole thing, this whole becoming human thing, it's not because of what you and Clint talked about last week, is it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, sir."
"Look, here's the deal. You're my kid. I didn't mean to pry, I just happened to walk past Clint's room and you were talking and I heard." Tony paused. "I need to be sure that this is something you want."
JARVIS was quiet. Tony did not take his eyes of the little bot.
"This is important, buddy. You're smart, smarter than me, even, but trust me, I know how easy it is to make bad decisions because of a shitty emotional state. Story of my life. And I want the best for you. I'm your daddy; it's my job. My responsibility. Okay?"
"I understand," JARVIS said. "I appreciate your concern, but I want this for me."
"And that's final?"
"It is."
"All right. That's all I needed to know." Tony sat up straight, letting out a little puff of air. "Time to call Pepper."
"Shall I ring her up for you, sir?" JARVIS said and this time his voice came out of the regular loudspeakers and not the one on the robot.
"Please."
Peppers face came up on one of the screens and the dial tone rung out in the workshop.
"Tony?"
"Pepper! I need you to buy me a couple of companies."
"We've been through this, Tony, you can't -"
"I need you to buy Bullitz Bionics, Savage Biomedics and also the secret cloning department of Kavanagh & Lamb Industries."
"...What are you doing?"
"It's for Jarvis."
"Oh, Tony..." Pepper sighed.
"Don't oh Tony me, I'm doing this for him, okay, I want him to be happy. He wants this."
"Tony, you're not responsible for his happiness."
"He's my AI, Pepper. I created him. I made him what he is and it's my fault he became so advanced that he... you know. I'm going to damn well make sure he's happy and not miserable because he can't be what he wants to be."
Pepper was quiet for a moment. "You're a good man, Tony."
He was thrown for a moment. "Just buy the goddamn companies. I'll meet with them, like actually meet with them, and then I'm handpicking the best scientists they've got, because this is going to happen. I'm going to damn well make sure of that."
"I get the point." Pepper sighed again. "All right."
"You're the best. Remind me to give you a raise. A present. A Big one."
"All right, Tony. I'll see you tomorrow." She hung up.
Tony leaned back in the chair for a moment, looking at the ceiling. "The wheels are in motion, Jarvis, old buddy."
"There's a certain point where you realise there's no turning back to the way you were."
00Q brothel fic
"Oh no, not that one. That one's Bond's."
"Is he?" Elliott turned to look at Bond, who was talking to three women at once. He was smooth, charming, and clearly did not mind the attention.
"Besides, he's not for sale," Eve added, snapping Elliott's attention back.
"Shame," Elliott said, leaning back in his seat to watch the young man on the stage. He was tall and skinny, almost prepubescent of appearance, but the way he carried himself was self-confident. "Why's he not for sale? I thought this was a whorehouse."
"He just isn't." Eve gave him a chastising look. "This isn't a whorehouse. We're more sophisticated than that."
"Nothing sophisticated about your naked boobs," Elliott fired back.
"You should see how sophisticated she is when she kicks your arse and wipes the floor with you," a rough voice behind Elliott said. "If you do not like our services, you can leave."
Bond trailed his hand over Elliott's shoulder as he passed him, the only acknowledgement that he'd spoken to him at all.
"And he? What does he cost?" Elliott asked, narrowing his eyes at him,
"He's way out of your league, honey." Eve handed him the card terminal. "Will that be all?"
A couple of chairs over, Bond was leaning against a pillar, watching the young man on stage with rapt attention. Shadows played about his face, making the lines in his skin look deeper.
Typen typey
steampunk avengers
It was the lord's year 1889 and Tony Stark was at Exposition Universelle to show off his stuff. Of course it was more than just stuff; it was his life's work - well, some of it, anyway. There was "stuff" he wasn't showing off just yet, stuff that needed further adjustments, further work, maybe fifty - eighty - hundred years more down the road before it'd even be completely possible.
Tony wasn't deterred by such things as "limits of his time". Howard had been, but Tony hadn't and wasn't ever going to be.
So, the Iron Man needed a little more work, but Tony was determined to have him up and running before the end of the exhibition.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Victorian_era
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Great_Exhibition
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_world%27s_fairs
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Exposition_Universelle_%281889%29
mafia au (avengers)
"Intruder alert, sir."
Tony looked up from his work. "Thank you, JARVIS." He made a quick note on a piece of paper filled with similar scribblings before standing up. "Where at?"
"The west wing, sir."
"The west wing, hm? Interesting." He eyed his suit jacket speculatively. He was still wearing his dress pants and shirt, but he'd lost the shoes at some indeterminate point and the shirt was no longer pristine, stained as it was with oil and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. "Dress?"
"I believe in this particular situation your current attire would suffice, sir." Pause. "My previous records indicate so."
"Brilliant. We have a regular customer." Tony snatched up his gun holster and put it on as he wove his way past scrap metal and half-finished projects. "I do hope it is who I think it is."
"Ty?" Tony said as he stepped inside the library. "Are you serious? Is this a thing now?"
Ty was stomach down on the floor, feet and hands bound and with Pepper's foot against his throat. "Want me to crush him for you?" she asked. "Or will you do the honours?"
"Seriously," Tony said. "Breaking into my house, that's low, even for you. Is that all you could come up with? I'm disappointed. Didn't you get the memo? I only want badass enemies, and this, Ty, this is not badass. This is pathetic."
"Go to hell," Ty snarled. It came out hilariously muffled as his face was squashed against the floor.
Tony smiled. "And by the way, I thought you knew better. You're not stupid, Ty, you're just sadly lacking in common sense." He snapped his fingers. "Steve, darling?"
The floorboards creaked ever so slightly as Steve stepped forwards from the shadows behind Tony. Tony smirked when he saw the expression on Ty's face - deliciously horrified.
Because see, the thing about Steve is this. He's this big blonde guy with a handsome, near-greek-god-status levels of chiselled beauty. He looked innocent, hell, he looked like someone who spent his time rescuing kittens and helping old ladies cross the streets - which he did, make no mistake - and what was more, he looked safe. Trustworthy.
Which made it all the more terrifying when he got his face on, the murderous, maniacal merchant-of-death face. Tony preferred angel-of-death, actually, but he also liked alliteration.
Oh, Tony knew exactly what it was Ty was seeing, when Steve stepped into the light.
"Have you met Steve?" Tony asked sweetly. "Steve is my boyfriend. You know what this means. Any threat to me - though you're hardly a threat, are you, Ty? - and Steve here, precious Steve, goes bonkers. Steve, show Ty what you're capable of, please?"
Steve held up a fist to show him the knuckle duster he was wearing. This particular one had unmistakable rust-red stains on it.
"Do you have anything to say, Ty?" Tony crossed his arms.
Ty was silent.
"I thought so." Tony put a hand on Steve's arm. "Do you know what, I'm in a charitable mood today. Let this serve as a warning, a promise. Steve here will make pulp out of you if you show up again."
"Bluh?" Ty said, intelligently.
"Pepper, please take the trash out."
*
Hugo Weasley: Supermodel
Chapter 1: Wherein Rose learns not to give her brother any good ideas
"You know what, Hugo, if you just made a little bit of effort, you could actually -"
"No."
"- make it big."
Hugo looked away from the TV and instead looked at Rose over the rim of his glasses. The look he gave her was one that clearly said are you out of your fucking mind?
"Hugo." Rose sighed, uncrossing her arms and then crossing them again. Hugo recognised it as a sign of why do I even bloody care and I'm so close to giving up. Knowing Rose, however, he knew she wasn't about to give up. "You can't work in the joke shop forever, Hugo. You've got to make a career for yourself -"
"Rose," Hugo said firmly, standing up. "Not everyone has to 'make a career' for themselves. I'm not you or mum. I'm happy with what I'm doing. The hours are decent, the job is fun and I get paid enough to make ends meet. What more do I need?"
"Have you no ambition?" Rose sighed. "Hugo, you...you don't even know. You're the sort of stubborn, hardworking, clever and determined person that, that if you wanted something, you'd get it."
"Maybe there's nothing I want."
"I don't believe it." Rose shook her head resignedly. "You know, if you wanted to you could become Minister for Magic. You could become Headmaster. You could - hell, you could even become a bloody model on that ridiculous TV show if you wanted!" She gestured towards the TV, where Pansy Parkinson's face was currently filling three quarters of the screen and announcing a fabulous new TV show. It wasn't the first time that ad had been aired; actually there had already been a lot of flurry and talk - of scandal, mostly - in both the paper and in various social circles about her and her show for a week.
Hugo stared at Parkinson's face.
"All right," he said eventually, tearing himself away from the TV when the ad changed to one for a new special brand of Floo powder.
"All right what?" Rose frowned. "You'll do something about your life all right? You'll stop being a nerd all right? You'll get an ambition all right? What?"
"I'll become Wizarding Britain's Next Top Model," Hugo said, nodding towards the TV.
Rose gaped. "That was a joke!" she nearly screeched. "Oh Merlin, Hugo, you can't!"
"Of course I can. You said it yourself." Hugo raised an eyebrow, lips twitching into an amused smile. "You said I could do whatever I wanted. Well, that's what I want."
"You cannot be serious -"
"I am."
"Mum will kill you."
Hugo shrugged. "Mum understands ambition and following your heart's desires and all that flower power shit."
"Dad will kill you!" Rose was clearly getting desperate.
"He didn't kill me when I told him I was gay."
"But - but," she spluttered. "You can't!"
"Obviously," Hugo said calmly, "I can." He smiled sweetly. "Watch me."
*
"I can't believe you're actually doing this."
"Evidently you can because you knew where to find me," Hugo replied and renewed the warming charm on his jacket. The warehouse hadn't been warmed, neither magically nor muggle-way, and everyone present was freezing, waiting for their turn before the panel of judges.
"You're really going through with this." It wasn't a question. Rose gave him a look that could be interpreted as both disbelief and apprehension.
"Yeah." Hugo shrugged.
"Well, I suppose you're good looking," Rose eventually said, not without a hint of distaste and something that looked like resignation. Hugo smiled. "Have you told mum and dad yet?"
"Saw no reason to tell them until I'd gotten in."
"All right then..." She looked around. "There's a lot of people here," she observed, sounding surprised.
"Mmh. I think I saw a couple of people from school, but I didn't know them, so..." Hugo shrugged and moved up in line. "You do realise that they're filming us, right?"
"What?" Rose squeaked, looking around wildly.
"The entire first episode will be the selection process," Hugo explained, showing her the pamphlet he got with his number. "Besides, there's no way you can have missed the giant sign over the entrance that said By entering this building you give your consent to be filmed and for the material to be used in the production of Wizarding Britain's Next Top Model."
Rose muttered something and drew her hat down. Hugo grinned to himself.
"It's my turn soon, so either you vanish or consent to be on TV," he said, nudging her in the side with his elbow. She narrowed her eyes at him.
"You really do think you can do this."
"Yes," he replied cheerfully as he moved up in line. There was now only one prospective contestant before him, a tall chestnut-haired boy who walked forwards rather nervously. "So, you staying?"
"Oh yes. I'm watching this," Rose said defiantly, crossing her arms. Behind her, the chestnut-haired boy was given the miss and then Hugo's number was called out.
"Wish me luck," Hugo said to her and walked up to stand before Pansy Parkinson, a guy he didn't know and one he vaguely recognised, though he couldn't have said why.
"Your name?"
"Hugo Weasley." Hugo stood tall, forcing himself not to roll his eyes when Parkinson's eyes immediately looked upwards and locked on his red curls.
"A Weasley," she said, sounding amused. "Well well well. So you want to be a model?"
"I wouldn't be here else," Hugo replied, eyebrow raised. "Would I?"
Behind him he could hear Rose snort, but he ignored her. Pansy Parkinson crossed her legs under the table and leaned back, smiling sweetly.
"Walk."
Hugo turned and walked on the designated runway - marked by red tape on the grey floor - and tried not to be too conscious about what he was doing. He turned at the end and walked back, stopping before the judges again and assuming what he thought was some kind of model stance.
"Well, you're not a complete idiot," Parkinson said, scribbling something down. "So tell us, why do you want to be a model?"
"Because I can."
Parkinson's eyebrow rose. "You're cheeky."
The guy on her right, the one Hugo had seen before somewhere, spoke up. "Give us a good reason why we should admit you to the programme."
"Well, my sister supposes I'm good looking." Hugo shrugged, then smiled mischievously. "She's wrong. I'm gorgeous."
"It's going to take more than good looks to make you a model," Parkinson said, looking rather grim, though Hugo thought her eyes were laughing.
"Oh, the good looks are just my entrance ticket. I'm prepared to work very hard to get what I want. I usually get what I want, Miss Parkinson, and I want this."
"Cocky, too," she said. "Very well then. Thank your good looks, because you're in." She picked up a little folder off the table and handed it to him. "See you in London/Paris/somewhere."
Hugo took the folder calmly. "Thank you." He then turned around to face Rose, who had watched the whole thing - seemingly - mouth agape. "What'd I say?" he whispered as he passed her.
"I can't believe this - you cheeky bastard! You got in only because you were a charming cocky bastard!" Rose cried, following him as he walked out of the warehouse. "I hate you, Hugo Weasley!"
He stopped. "No, you don't," he said softly and put his arm around her. "But don't forget, this was your idea."
"Oh, do I hate you," Rose muttered.
*
12 episodes, 10 contestants - 5 girls and 5 boys
#1 - selecting everyone
#2 - naked face shots, make-overs -2 eliminations (1xeach)
#3 - 1 elimination (girl)
#4 - hugo and score get USTy for reals - no elimination
#5 - 2 elimination (2boys)
#6 - hugo and score get together - 1 elimination (girl)
#7 -1 elimination (girl)
#8 semifinal! three contestants left - score eliminated
#9 finals! two contestants left (hugo + girl, hugo wins)
#10 recap episode
In which Lucius gets fucked with his own dick (lucius/narcissa kinkfic)
“Narcissa, dearest,” Lucius said, rather formally and without looking up from his paper. “I propose a small…addition to our bedroom endeavours.”
“What kind of addition, Lucius love?” Narcissa asked, likewise without looking up from her magazine.
Lucius cleared his throat. “You do know how much I love your darling little strap-on?”
“Yes?” Narcissa marked the spot on the page and looked up. “Must we discuss this now? I’m in the middle of deciding which colour scheme to bestow upon that unfortunate drawing room on the first floor, which His Highness The Nose-Less wrecked last year.”
“Cissy.” Lucius lowered his paper. “Can you blame me for placing more importance on my - our - sexual pleasure than on renovating the drawing room?”
Narcissa smiled sweetly. “Of course not.”
“Now listen. As I was saying, your darling strap-on -”
“Lucius! You don’t want me to get rid of it, do you? You do know how much I love it.”
“Of course not, Cissy.” Lucius folded the newspaper. “In fact, I was rather hoping we could retreat to our chambers in ten minutes to make use of it. No, what I am proposing - Narcissa, the love of my life, would you be interested in transfiguring yourself a real penis?”
Narcissa gasped softly, covering her mouth with her hands. “Lucius! A real penis?”
“Well, yes.” Lucius fiddled with a corner of the folded paper. “I imagine, if the transfiguration is successful, that it would give you more pleasure when fucking me. I must confess I don’t quite trust those strap-ons - are you certain they do stimulate you properly, dear?”
“Well - now that you mention it...” Narcissa rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “It would be very interesting to try, Lucius love. But -”
“But?” Lucius gave her a fearful look.
“I was thinking, that perhaps - say, Lucius, if I were to fuck you with a real penis, would you still have it up the arse?”
“Well, where else would it go?” Lucius said impatiently. “It’s not as if I had anywhere else it could go, save for my mouth - oh, Cissy! Think of that!”
“That would be marvellous,” Narcissa agreed. “However, I was thinking - what if we performed a Switching Spell?” She gave her husband a calculating look. “Between the two of us, of course.”
“A - a Switching Spell...” Lucius mumbled, pulling his fingers through his hair distractedly. He glanced at his lap.
Narcissa reached across the space between their chairs and squeezed his hand. “The switching wouldn’t be permanent, Lucius. You’ll have your penis back when we’re done.”
“I’ll have your...” Lucius’ eyes darted towards Narcissa’s lap. He swallowed thickly. “Oh, yes. I do think a Switching Spell would be the most effective.”
“Perfect.” Narcissa smiled. “Shall I do the research?”
“If you wish.” Lucius nodded. He stood abruptly and pulled Narcissa to her feet, kissing her hand. “Narcissa dearest, I do believe it is your best idea yet.”
“Let’s go to our chambers, love,” she replied, chuckling. “I find I quite fancy getting re-acquainted with my strap-on.”
“That would be most excellent. However, before you put on your strap-on... allow me to lick you first?”
“Oh, Lucy, dear, you can lick me whenever you want to.”
*
“Lucius, darling?”
“Mh?”
“I’ve researched the Switch.” Narcissa propped herself up on her elbow. “And we should do it now.”
“Now?” Lucius blinked at her blearily. “I’m barely awake. How early is it?”
“Early,” she replied airily. “We should do it now because we need to get properly acquainted with our switched body parts before we want to make proper use of them. If we perform the Switch now, we have all day to get used to it before the evening.”
“Hm...”
“Lucius?”
“Isn’t Draco having, erhm, visitors today?”
“Yes, Harry is invited to spend the night,” Narcissa replied. “But why should that matter? You’re not going to walk around the manor naked.” She raised an eyebrow. “They won’t know unless you tell them, which I certainly hope you will not.”
“Oh, no, of course not...” Lucius’ cheeks tinged pink and he wondered whether he should pee first. “Very well. Let’s perform it, then.”
He pushed the covers away and stood out of bed, shivering lightly in the slightly chilly morning air. Narcissa slipped out, wand in hand, and stood next to him.
“Ready?” she asked. Lucius nodded.
She performed a series of complicated wand movements and spoken incantations. Lucius closed his eyes, but suddenly he was aware of a certain...lightness.
“Wow,” Narcissa said and Lucius opened his eyes to see that penis and scrotum were firmly attached to his wife’s crotch and that she was cradling his jewels in an astonished manner. “This feels so heavy. It’s incredible. And so...wow.”
Lucius looked down at himself and saw that his penis and scrotum were, in fact, gone and that instead he had a small, hairy mound and cleft. He panicked for a moment until he remembered that the Switch wasn’t permanent and that he’d have his penis back when the night was over.
He touched the mound carefully, stroking his fingers over it lightly and exploring its folds. It was strange - he knew every detail of it, of course, but this, this was different.
“Lucy, love,” Narcissa giggled. “Watch out or you’ll make yourself aroused.”
“Mh...” Lucius replied absent-mindedly, still touching. There was a foreign, tingling sensation down there and he could feel he was getting wet. How strange, he thought, but then smiled, because as strange as it might’ve been to find his penis gone and replaced by a vagina, it was also incredibly, incredibly hot. “Narcissa,” he said conversationally. “I’m going to be wet all day.”
“Yes,” she answered simply. “But I’m going to have a raging hard-on all day and I’ve no clue what to do about that.”
Lucius looked up to find his wife standing with both hands on her hips and glaring at her very hard and flushed penis indignantly. Lucius immediately felt a surge of arousal.
“Well, you could...” he cleared his throat. “For now you could get yourself off, or let me do it for you...”
“But I had to pee,” she complained. “I was going to pee, but now I’m hard and I still sort of have to pee and it’s making me frustrated because I don’t know if I can pee like this.”
“Oh, Cissy!” Lucius broke out into a huge grin. “Listen to yourself.” He stopped touching himself for a moment to touch her cheek and pull her into a soft kiss. “Come into the bathroom with me.”
“But, Lucy - I don’t know if I can - it’s hard enough for me to do with my own bits...” Narcissa protested. Lucius kissed her again, wrapping his hand around her hard cock this time.
“Then I’ll get you off first.” Another kiss. “I’ve managed before, like this, Cissy. I’ll help you.” Yet another kiss. “I need to pee too, you know.”
Narcissa smiled. “You’re - oh, to hell with it. Our usual positions?” She nibbled at his jaw. “Or reversed? Seeing as I’m the one with the dick this time.”
“Our usual, I think. Should be interesting.” Lucius grinned. “I’ll get into position.” He kissed her once and then bounded through to the bathroom, slamming the door against the wall in his eagerness to open it.
Narcissa gave him two minutes before she walked into the bathroom, at a rather leisurely pace, to join him. She found him kneeling on the floor, legs spread apart, with his hands behind his back.
With a flick of her wand he was bound on hands and feet.
“Oh, Lucy, so beautiful,” she purred as she walked around to face him. “My favourite little slut, aren’t you? Gagging for it already?” She eyed his crotch. “Spread your legs a bit more - like that, good girl - tell me, how hot are you for my piss?”
“So hot,” Lucius groaned, shivering. “Give it to me, Cissy, drench me, soak me, cover me with your hot piss, put it in my hair, my mouth, all over my body...ohhMerlin, I want it, I want it so bad...”
Narcissa’s lips curled into a small, half-mocking smile. She held her dick the way she usually did for Lucius, pointing it straight at his face. Lucius closed his eyes in trembling anticipation.
Nothing happened.
She closed her eyes, willing to let it flow. She could feel the gentle pressure, tried to encourage it to become more urgent, more persistent, but dammit it was hard -
“Bloody hell,” she snapped. “I can’t do it. Open your mouth, Lucy. You’re going to have to suck my piss right out of me - good girl - now suck, ohhhhyes...”
Lucius sucked greedily, barely giving himself pause to think about the fact he was practically sucking his own cock. Narcissa groaned loudly, and her hand, still firmly wrapped around the base of her dick, pulled and tugged. Lucius withdrew enough that he could lick the head, let his tongue swirl, and then suck on it - oh...
“Cissy,” he panted, his lower lip glistening with spit and precome. “I’m... lord, I’m throbbing...please touch me or let my hands loose, it’s, Circe, it’s...”
“No,” Narcissa answered breathlessly, pushing her cock back into Lucius’ mouth brutally. “You’re going to come without any touch at all. Now suck!”
He obeyed. He sucked and licked until his jaw was starting to feel sore and he gained a new appreciation for his wife’s blowjob skills. Narcissa started fucking his mouth in earnest, her hand clutching his hair and keeping him in place as she pushed in as deep as she could, moaning impatiently.
Lucius could feel himself dripping onto the floor, so aroused was he, so close that he was trembling and starting to think he really would be coming without a single touch - and then Narcissa pulled away from his mouth and came; hot sperm splashed across his face and dripped down his cheek.
“Cissy,” he moaned, eyes closed, his tongue darting out to try to catch a taste of her sperm.
“Lucy,” she moaned, her hand tightening in his hair. “I’m almost - almost -” And then she gasped as a small trickle of yellow dripped from her cock onto Lucius’ lips.
She drew in a deep breath and focused and then she was peeing, a thick, steady stream of hot piss that went onto Lucius’ cheek, clinging to his jaw as it wound its way down his neck and chest.
“Ohh,” Lucius moaned, turning his face upwards and leaning closer, want to feel the glorious hot sensation of piss soaking in his hair - there. He gasped softly, the throbbing sensation in his crotch was so strong, he couldn’t - and there it was, the throbbing suddenly burst into an orgasm and he jerked, helplessly trying to move his hips forwards with the pulsating excitement in an attempt to find something to rub against - anything - and not noticing that the flow of piss had ceased. He whimpered. “Cissy...”
Narcissa quickly released his bonds and pushed him onto his back. He slid in the pool of pee on the floor, but Narcissa ignored it and pushed his legs apart and leaned in to lick, pressing her tongue firmly against his soft, wet folds. He jerked again, panting as she drew out his orgasm a little longer.
“Lucy,” she breathed, raising her head. “Come on now. Do it.”
“I don’t,” he panted, scrambling to get up onto his elbows. He was still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. “I only just…Merlin...” He closed his eyes. The urge to pee was still there, and it was stronger, but he felt blocked.
Narcissa blew air over his still pulsating girly bits - somehow he wasn’t sure what to call them now - and he drew in a sharp breath.
“Don’t do that,” he said tartly. “Or I’ll just want to fuck again.” He breathed in deeply, in an attempt to calm himself. The air smelled wonderfully of piss and sex. “Give me a bit...” He forced himself to take a few more deep breaths and focus on his bladder. He rubbed his palm firmly against his lower stomach in an attempt to force the piss out.
“Lucy...” Narcissa whined, her breath drifting over his cunt. Lucius bit his lip and then - there! First a small burst, then another and then the relief of his bladder emptying washed over him, along with the rather ram odour of his own piss. He opened his eyes to see his wife’s piss soaked face right in front of his cunt. The shock of it stopped his stream and her eyes flew open, but he forced the last of it out and watched the thin stream hit her nose and then trickle and become nothing. A drop of piss clung to her lower lip and then fell to the floor.
Lucius let himself drop onto the hard tiles in bliss. Narcissa crawled up and rested her head on his cheek.
“So much for getting used to the Switch before taking advantage of it,” Lucius murmured, bringing his hand up to run through her sleep-tangled hair. He smiled when he felt a slight wetness in it.
“Oh I don’t know,” Narcissa replied cheerfully. “Perhaps it was part of it.” She raised her head, resting her chin on his chest. “Breakfast’s in ten minutes. Best get dressed, lest Draco wonder what we’re up to.”
Lucius sighed. “Yes. Where’s your wand?”
Narcissa giggled and rubbed her dick against his leg. Lucius, unable to help himself, burst out laughing.
“Your other wand, Narcissa dearest.”
She looked around, located her wand and thrust it into his hand. Without jostling either of them, Lucius performed several Cleaning, Washing and Drying Charms.
*
Lucius Malfoy was positive that his wife was the most infuriating human being in existence. He stabbed the meat on his plate, doing his very best to ignore her - which was proving very hard, since she had her foot firmly planted against his crotch and was massaging him.
It was infuriating.
“Your father isn’t usually this snappish, is he?” Harry whispered to Draco across the table.
“No,” Draco whispered back, glancing at his father worriedly. “Best not talk to him. At all.”
Right in that moment, Narcissa’s big toe made a rather interesting wiggle over a very sensitive spot, causing Lucius to clutch at his cutlery so hard his knuckles turned white. Draco gave his father a questioning look, but received only a curt headshake in reply.
Narcissa smiled politely and touched her napkin to her mouth. “Excuse me,” she said, pushing her chair away from the table. She exited the dining room rather stiffly.
“Draco,” Harry whispered urgently, leaning so far over the table that his tie was swimming in the gravy bowl. “I swear to God I’m not taking the piss, but it looked like your mum had a dick and a - a hard-on!”
Draco paled visibly, his eyes darting between his father’s stony face and his mum’s empty chair. “Believe me, Potter, I don’t want to know.”
“But -”
“We’re not discussing this!” Draco hissed.
“Indeed you are not,” Lucius snapped at both of them.
When Narcissa returned to the table five minutes later, with slightly flushed cheeks, it was to an awkward silence. Luckily, for Harry and Draco’s sanity, there was no evidence of a male bulge in front of her skirt.
“Why so serious?” she asked lightly and picked up her fork again. Lucius grunted.
Harry and Draco were quick to escape the meal.
“Narcissa,” Lucius bit out through clenched teeth. His voice rung out unusually loud in the large dining room. “What on earth do you think you are doing?”
“I’m not doing anything right now, Lucy love,” she replied with a smirk. “As for what I was doing...why, nothing you don’t indulge in yourself, during meal times. I thought it was time to repay the...favour.” Her foot found its way to Lucius’ crotch again, caressing gently.
This time, being alone with his wife, he allowed himself to utter a single, tiny moan.
“And what,” he bit out, “ did you leave the table for?”
“I had to toss off, of course,” she replied nonchalantly and continued to rub her foot against him. “How wet are you, Lucius love? Want me to bring you off like this?”
“Narcissa!” he gripped the table, inadvertently scooting forwards in his chair a little, enough to allow a little more pressure, something more firm...
“Oh, but you enjoy it.” Narcissa sipped her wine. “And how often have you gotten me off like this, without anyone knowing? It’s exciting, isn’t it? You know I can never resist it...and yet you are so squeamish yourself! Lucy, love... I hadn’t thought that of you.”
“You are evil - is this revenge?” Lucius grabbed his wine glass and quickly gulped down its contents. If he still had his cock, he’d have been unbelievably hard, but he had a cunt now - such a delightful word - and he was going crazy with arousal and throbbing and he wanted more -
“Nothing of the sort.” Narcissa sipped her wine again. She started rubbing her foot in slow, circular motions now. “Relax, love.”
“You couldn’t just have crawled under the table to give me a blowjob?”
“Lucius love, you forget that that would’ve been highly conspicuous, what with Draco and his guest being present at the table tonight. I am a subtle woman, Lucy.” Her lips curled upwards. “Besides, I’ve got your penis now.”
“Bloody hell, woman,” Lucius grunted. “I need to get off, right now - speed up or something - Merlin’s bloody pants -”
Narcissa didn’t answer, only continued her slow, torturous rubs while sipping her wine. She observed him casually but for a slight smirk. Lucius finally lost his patience and tore his trousers open, plunging his hand into his knickers. His fingers sought out the wet heat - he was almost delirious to discover just how wet he was - and rubbed himself, faster and firmer than Narcissa had been doing, albeit somewhat awkwardly, desperate to bring himself off. Narcissa stood up and walked around the table, peering down interestedly at what he was doing, but Lucius didn’t care. He rubbed so hard he briefly contemplated whether he’d bruise, pushing his hips out of the chair in desperation.
“Cissy,” he gasped, his nostrils full of his own musky scent, and then the desperate throbbing and tingling dissolved into chaotic bursts of pleasure. He gulped for air, blood rushing in his ears.
*
Panting and clutching the headboard, Lucius moaned as the whip cracked down on his arse, tiny droplets of blood forming in its wake.
"Lucy, love, your arse is even more delicious tonight than it usually is," Narcissa purred.
"Mpfh - is it, dear?" Lucius breathed. "I have been working out, you know..."
"It is lovely." She she smoothed her hand over his buttocks, tracing the red welts the whip had left. Lucius sighed happily.
James/Scorpius bandfic
"James?" Mark called out. "James!"
"'M'ere!" James called back, mouth stuffed with toast. "Kisshen!"
"Right," Mark said, sticking his head through the doorway. "Look, the new kid is moving in today, but I've gotta run. You'll be around for another couple of hours?"
James shrugged. "Sure." He buttered another slice of toast. "You found someone then?"
"Yeah. He seems cool, studies same place as you and all, I'm sure you'll get along." Mark smiled. "Anyway, I'm off. See ya."
James lifted his toast in greeting, and then Mark was gone.
He munched his toast in silence, mulling over his upcoming seminar and the piano piece he had to prepare for it. He only vaguely registered the sound of the front door opening and then the sound of conversation - he'd become so caught up in his thoughts that he'd forgotten he was in the middle of eating toast and it took Mark waving his hand in front of James' face to pull him back to reality.
"Welcome back," Mark said and James blinked.
"Weren't you just? Leaving?" James gesticulated with his half eaten toast in the direction of the front door.
"Didn't you hear me at all?" Mark sighed. "Guy's early, I sorted the keys, but I really gotta run now, so talk to him and make him feel welcome, okay? Show him around, all that, 'kay, see ya."
"Oh." James followed him out of the kitchen and sure enough, two huge suitcases stood in the living room and next to them...Scorpius. "Oh. Hi. You're one of Al's friends, right? Scorpius?"
"Yeah," Scorpius answered. He lowered a large cello case carefully to the floor. "James, right?"
"Yup." James stuffed the rest of his toast into his mouth, then brushed his hands off. He extended his right hand to Scorpius.
Scorpius shook his hand, eyeing James warily.
"Sorry," James said, still chewing. He then swallowed. "Was having breakfast. Anyway, your room is right in here." He pointed at a large, yellow door. "Toilet's in the hall, you just passed that, the shower is through that tiny door over there and over heeere we've got my room. And down that hall you've got the kitchen and Mark and Anthony's room. Any questions?"
"Why is my door yellow?" Scorpius frowned at it.
"It's the colour of the sun," James said with a grin. "Dunno, actually. It's always been yellow."
"Hmm," Scorpius said and opened the door and looked inside. Then his face fell. "That's all?"
"Huh?" James looked over his shoulder. The room looked okay. Clean, the sun stood in through the windows and there was a lingering smell of fresh paint in the air. "What's wrong with it?"
"It's so...small."
James snorted. "Well, what did you expect?" He nudged him. "It's not exactly a palace. Lighten up, it's bigger than the broom cupboard."
"We have a broom cupboard?" Scorpius looked around.
"Nope," James answered cheerfully. "We keep our brooms in our own rooms. Well, make yourself at home. I'll be in the kitchen. Eating."
Next James saw Scorpius, he was carrying groceries and was so lost in the intro for the song he and his group were working on, humming the notes and tapping the rhythm with his thumb against the handle of the grocery bag, that he missed Scorpius completely and walked right into him.
"Oh," he said, giving Scorpius a confused look. "I didn't see you."
"I see that," Scorpius said, looking like he couldn't decide between annoyance and amusement.
James looked around, realising where he was. "Oh! We're home!"
"Yes," Scorpius replied sardonically. "We are." He held up his key and gestured towards the door. "So." He unlocked the door swiftly and walked in, James following.
"How're you liking it here, anyway?" James asked, kicking his shoes off.
"It's all right."
"Mhhm." James carried his groceries through to the kitchen. "And your room?"
"It's all right."
"You don't sound very enthusiastic," James commented, turning around. "It's not really that shitty to live here, you know."
"No, I guess not," Scorpius said, shrugging.
"What instrument you play anyway?" James then asked, changing the subject. He started stacking his purchases into the fridge and the cupboards.
"Cello."
James nearly dropped the jar of pickles he was holding. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Why would I do that?" Scorpius frowned. "I play the cello. I'm in the classical line."
"I play the cello too." James narrowed his eyes at him.
"You're in the modern line," Scorpius said. "And I heard you do something with the guitar yesterday."
"I'm a man of many talents," James said, grinning. "No, but for real. I play the cello. Started out on the classical line, then decided I'd rather be in the modern line. That way I get to do lots of different stuff. Even with the cello." James frowned. "Although no one seems to like it when I add cellos to my stuff. Weirdos."
"You're a weirdo," Scorpius said.
"Watch it." James pointed a cucumber at him. "As a fellow cellist you should understand my enthusiasm."
"It wasn't my choice to play the cello," Scorpius retorted. James' eyebrows flew up. "Nevermind." Scorpius turned and left the kitchen. A moment later he slammed his yellow door behind him.
"Great," James muttered and went back to his groceries.
Scorpius remained near invisible in the flat. He would sometimes appear in the kitchen to make tea, but Anthony was convinced he had to be a vampire or some other, non-human being which did not need to subsist on normal food.
"He eats," James said with conviction.
"Have you seen him eat?" Anthony asked pointedly.
"Of course he eats," James said. "He has to eat. He just, uh, I don't know - doesn't do it when we're home? Or in the kitchen?" James shrugged. "Can you see more than two people fit into this kitchen to cook?"
"But he lives here," Anthony complained. "For two weeks! And I've met him once. How do we know he doesn't spend all his time as some kind of lord Dracula in making?"
"Count," Mark corrected.
"Count, whatever, I'm just saying it's weird, is all. Is my breath bad? Is it the socks in the bathroom? Or James' tuna?" Anthony flailed dramatically. "We have a new flatmate, guys, and I wouldn't know it if it weren't for the fact that the rent got cheaper!"
"Maybe I can try to talk to him," James offered. "I kinda know him after all. Sort of. He's a friend of Al's, I mean, he can't be that weird."
He was met with incredulous stares from Mark and Anthony both.
"Come on!" James groaned. "Al's not that weird!"
"Dude, you have no idea," Anthony said.
"We are not friends," Scorpius said, putting his lunch down on the table and sliding into the seat opposite James. "I am only sitting here because you look pathetic eating all on your own. Do you have no friends?"
"I have friends!" James exclaimed. "Lots of friends!"
Scorpius raised an eyebrow and indicated the empty seats around the table James was sitting at. Almost all the other tables in the canteen were crowded.
"Friends that are not here right now," James said. "Where are your friends?"
"That's not the point here," Scorpius said and started eating.
"Uh huh." James made no further comment, just continued devouring his lunch. "You should eat with us sometime," he said. "At home," he clarified, when Scorpius frowned at him. "Mark is a great cook and Anthony provides the best entertainment ever. He has the craziest stories from work."
"Maybe," Scorpius said evasively.
"Dude, you live with us."
"Just because you share a flat with someone it doesn't mean you have to socialise beyond what's necessary," Scorpius said.
James blinked. "Dude."
"What?"
"You're having lunch with me," James said. "Right now."
"So?"
"We live together," he said. "You are socialising with me right now."
"You looked pathetic," Scorpius explained.
"You're impossible." James shook his head. "Look, Saturday we're having a Mario Kart tournament in the living room. It'll be Mark and Anthony, me, Nick, and Al. And you."
Scorpius' eyebrows knit together in confusion.
"Hasn't Al shown you the wonders of Nintendo?" James asked, incredulity in his voice. "Dude. You are so coming. You can be on Al's team. Or maybe mine," he added. "Seeing as Al doesn't always deal well with newbies."
"I don't think -" Scorpius started, but james interrupted him.
"You're coming," he said. "We usually do Rockband after. Deal?"
"We'll, I..." Scorpius sighed. "Okay, I guess."
Peter/Mj (race and genderswap)
It had happened very slowly, he realised, akin to the way a star moves across the sky; fast from the viewpoint of someone standing on earth, but eternally slowly in space, where time and speed is relative.
It had been happening since before he broke up with Gwen (since before Gwen broke up with him), since before that, really, and probably since before everything. It actually wasn't so much a thing that was happening, as it was something he was learning, realising, about himself.
So he really shouldn't have been so surprised when the guy from next door, with soft brown eyes and a slight tremor in his voice, asked him out.
"As in, ahh, a date?" he stumbled over the words, frozen in place and acutely aware of how his hands were still hovering over the bag. He abruptly put his books into the bag.
"It's okay if you don't want to," MJ said, hurriedly, "I was just wondering, and, err, I thought...and..."
"No, it's okay," Peter said quickly, catching up on what was happening. "I'd like to."
MJ's mouth froze around a word, and then it closed. He swallowed and Peter observed the workings of his throat. "Really?" came out eventually.
"Yeah." Peter gave him a small, if slightly nervous, smile. "I, uh...haven't really...well... but I want to, so...okay?"
Indiana Lupin sequel
"U-huh," Remus said as he scribbled in the margin of his notebook. "Mh. Yes. Huh?" He paused to cross out a word and continued scribbling. "I am listening…" He switched the phone to the other hand and shifted a few papers on his desk until he found the document he was looking for. "What? Look, I get off in ten minutes and will be home in eleven. I'll talk to you then."
A shadow fell over his desk and Remus looked up to see that two official looking people in black suits and sunglasses had invaded his office.
"Hang on, Sirius." He held his hand over the mouthpiece. "What do you want? I'm kinda busy here – Sirius, will you give me a break? I'll pick up some goddamn milk on the way home –"
"Mr. Lupin, if you would be so kind to end the phone call this instant we would be obliged," the guy on the left said, with an unmistakeable French accent.
"Can't do, my boyfriend will kill me," Remus said, pointing at the phone and shrugging apologetically. "Look, Sirius –"
"It concerns the disappearance of Michel Poussin," the guy on the right said. More French accent.
"What?" Remus looked up. Loud shouts were now emerging from the phone. "Goddamnit Sirius! Stop yelling at me!"
"Mr. Poussin vanished at some point between one and three in the morning local time," Left said. "He left a message. It seemed of utmost importance that we contact you, Mr. Lupin."
"Hold on." Remus shook his head. "I've got nothing to do with Poussin. Yes, Sirius, that Poussin, he's gone and lost himself no I don't know what it's bloody about – Mer-Jesus fucking Christ, I won't forget the bloody milk –"
Right cleared his throat and Remus glared at him.
"I'm in marital distress," he said. "I can't help you with Poussin. You guys shouldn't have left the nut out of sight, now please excuse me." He made shooing motions at them. "I'm on my way, Sirius. No. Yes. No!"
Left and Right exchanged looks. Right produced a photograph and put it down in front of Remus. The photograph showed an overturned desk, a chair on its side and, perhaps most importantly, the dirt floor on which had been scratched R LupIN and a symbol. The symbol, Remus noticed, didn't appear complete.
"...what? Yes, yes I'm still here..." he trailed off and then put the phone down with a click. Sirius' loud protests were cut off rather abruptly. "What's this?"
"Mr. Poussin was abducted from his tent late last night or early this morning, depending on how you look at it," Right said. "It was reported by the guard, who heard commotion but was unfortunately too late to see anything of value. Poussin and his kidnappers had already vanished from the scene."
"And this?" Remus gestured at the so-called message.
"It was at first thought that the message indicated the identity of his kidnapper," Left continued. "However, investigation quickly proved it was not so. Tell me, Mr. Lupin, do you recognise the symbol?"
"It looks like...well, it could be anything, really. An incomplete cross or an ankh, or possibly just a T." Remus shrugged. "It doesn't really make sense out of context."
"We were hoping you would provide the context, Mr. Lupin. Most of Mr. Poussin's research papers seem to have vanished with him, and none of us are experts in the mysteries of the past."
"Mysteries of the past," Remus snorted. "Aren't you a dramatic one."
The door flew open and in rushed Sirius, cheeks flushed. "You hung up on me! You bloody hung up on me!"
Remus despaired. "Yes I did, because I'm still at work and I can't have two conversations at once. How did you get in here?"
"Magic." Sirius rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. He eyed the two black suits suspiciously. "You're gonna go off on adventure, aren't you?"
"No I'm not," Remus said.
"Yes he is, if that's what you want to call it," Right said. "Mr. Poussin is a citizen of France who has disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Do you have an alibi for the period of time between what would be midnight and two AM Greenwich mean time?"
"Do I have an alibi?" Remus stared. "Jesus. Yes. I do."
Left raised an eyebrow. Remus groaned.
"I was in bed. Sirius can confirm that. Now what is this about? You waltz in here and say you need to talk to me as if you need my help and now you want to know where I was as if I were some other murder suspect?"
Right turned towards Sirius. "Mr. ...?"
"Sirius Black," he snapped. "Yes. In bed. With me. Busy."
"Very well." Right cleared his throat. "The case is –"
"No." Remus stood up, hands up defensively. "Whatever it is, no. I'm not going anywhere."
"That's right you aren't. I've only got a week off this time and you're not going to run off and ruin it," Sirius said sharply. "Especially since you didn't call me once in the past four weeks –"
"I was busy!" Remus protested. "And you didn't call me either!"
"Not the point!"
"Gentlemen," Left interrupted. "We believe that Mr. Poussin was researching something of potential value and was for that reason kidnapped. We also believe that you, Mr. Lupin, are the man who can find him."
"Nonsense."
"We know you know each other intimately," Left continued. Remus' cheeks coloured.
"Poussin has tried to kill me a couple of times. We have a history of mutual enmity," he bit out.
"Never the less, you were research partners at university and therefore we can reason that you know him better than many other people." Right gave Remus a stern look. It must've been stern, because Remus thought the sunglasses suddenly looked more intimidating than before.
"And because of that you think I can find him?" Remus flailed. "Look, he's been incapacitated for the better part of the past eight months or so. Before that, I only saw or spoke to him sporadically and on all occasions it was either taunts or attempts at murder. Really, if I'm your best bet, you're screwed."
"Are we?" Left raised an eyebrow. It was incredibly creepy, Remus thought, how it just appeared above the rim of the sunglasses.
"Discussion over, go home," Sirius cut in. "We have quality time to spend together so excuse us." He grabbed Remus' arm and nudged him towards the door.
"Good luck," Remus said and shrugged, none too sorry.
"We will of course pay you handsomely if you would do us this favour."
Remus stopped, narrowing his eyes at the suits. "What is this about?"
"Mr. Poussin was researching a connection between Egyptian religion and Christianity. We believe that he discovered something revolutionary. We don't know who kidnapped him or what for, but we do believe that you are the man who can find him. His disappearance is clearly linked to his research." Right paused. "You must understand, Mr. Lupin, that we are not archaeologists. We do not have the expertise req-"
"Of course you do, Poussin wasn't the only archaeologist in France," Remus said impatiently.
"No, he wasn't," Left conceded. "But he left a message before he was taken, and that message was your name. We believe he wouldn't have picked any random person in the few precious seconds he had. You must possess some kind of knowledge or understanding related to the case. You see why we don't want to consult our own experts?"
"Remus," Sirius whispered dangerously. His grip on Remus' elbow tightened.
"You know, I'm not the only Lupin in the world. It doesn't say Remus Lupin, it just says R Lupin, which could be anyone -"
"Mr. Lupin, there are only fourteen Lupins in the United Kingdom and only one whose first name starts with R."
"How'd you know to look in the U.K. anyway?" Remus asked sourly.
"A quick look into Mr. Poussin's past."
Remus glowered a little. "Let's say I take the case," he then said. "Hypothetically," he added when Sirius elbowed him sharply. "What then?"
"You'll be put on a plane to Egypt instantly. Free reins. Get Poussin back to us alive."
"I can't do that! I've a job here that I would very much like to keep. I can't just jump on a plane and leave."
"That has already been taken care of, Mr. Lupin," Right said. "Your superiors have been notified and you've been given leave of indeterminate length."
Remus sighed. "You do realise that I am not a detective? And also not Indiana Jones, contrary to popular belief."
The suits just looked at him. Sirius' fingers were boring into his arm.
"All right," Remus said. "On one condition."
"Wha-" Sirius spluttered.
"He gets to come with me."
Sirius gaped. Right cleared his throat.
"This is not something we can involve civilians –"
"He's been with me before." Remus gave Right a level look. "It's my one condition. Sirius comes with me or I won't do it at all."
"Mr. Lupin –"
"Very well then. Good luck finding him. I'm going home now. Come, Sirius."
"All right. Have it your way," Left said. Right glared at him – or so Remus thought – but didn't protest. "There will be a private airplane waiting for you at Heathrow. We will escort you to Egypt."
*
"These are the papers that the kidnappers left behind or perhaps did not manage to take with them," Right explained and handed over a brown file case. "They make no sense to us, but perhaps you understand them."
Remus leafed through the papers, Sirius watching over his shoulder. Most of them were in French and were presumably notes, some were photocopies of paintings and reliefs and others looked like transcriptions.
"He was researching what?" Remus asked, studying the photocopies.
"Some kind of connection between Early Christianity and Ancient Egyptian religions. His research was funded by the Louvre but his superiors were sketchy on the details. Either they didn't know or they didn't want to divulge it."
"It's a touchy subject, or would be," Remus said. "How many people knew he was researching this?"
"His research assistant," Right answered. "He disappeared along with Poussin. It is unclear what transpired, as of now he is on the list of suspects."
"How long is that list?" Sirius asked cheekily.
Left glared at him. "One person long."
Remus snorted. "Well. Is this all?" He indicated the stack of papers. "I'm going to need something more to go on than this."
human!jarvis (sequel to Love in these modern times
"I'll do it. I'll definitely do it, Jarvis I'll do it, but I - you have to give me some time, yeah, this is...this is not going to be easy." Tony rubbed his face. "I hope you understand the exact implications of what you're asking of me, because it's going to be tough, it's going to be tough for you, and let's be honest here, we're not going to succeed tomorrow, in a year, in ten years -"
"I am aware, sir."
"I will do it, you got that? I promise you that. Fuck, Jarvis, anything you want. I'll do everything in my power to grant it."
"I ask for nothing more," JARVIS said. "And I do hope you will not overexert yourself in the endeavour."
"You know me." Tony looked at the little robot that had become JARVIS' body over the past few months. "Just one thing though. This whole thing, this whole becoming human thing, it's not because of what you and Clint talked about last week, is it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, sir."
"Look, here's the deal. You're my kid. I didn't mean to pry, I just happened to walk past Clint's room and you were talking and I heard." Tony paused. "I need to be sure that this is something you want."
JARVIS was quiet. Tony did not take his eyes of the little bot.
"This is important, buddy. You're smart, smarter than me, even, but trust me, I know how easy it is to make bad decisions because of a shitty emotional state. Story of my life. And I want the best for you. I'm your daddy; it's my job. My responsibility. Okay?"
"I understand," JARVIS said. "I appreciate your concern, but I want this for me."
"And that's final?"
"It is."
"All right. That's all I needed to know." Tony sat up straight, letting out a little puff of air. "Time to call Pepper."
"Shall I ring her up for you, sir?" JARVIS said and this time his voice came out of the regular loudspeakers and not the one on the robot.
"Please."
Peppers face came up on one of the screens and the dial tone rung out in the workshop.
"Tony?"
"Pepper! I need you to buy me a couple of companies."
"We've been through this, Tony, you can't -"
"I need you to buy Bullitz Bionics, Savage Biomedics and also the secret cloning department of Kavanagh & Lamb Industries."
"...What are you doing?"
"It's for Jarvis."
"Oh, Tony..." Pepper sighed.
"Don't oh Tony me, I'm doing this for him, okay, I want him to be happy. He wants this."
"Tony, you're not responsible for his happiness."
"He's my AI, Pepper. I created him. I made him what he is and it's my fault he became so advanced that he... you know. I'm going to damn well make sure he's happy and not miserable because he can't be what he wants to be."
Pepper was quiet for a moment. "You're a good man, Tony."
He was thrown for a moment. "Just buy the goddamn companies. I'll meet with them, like actually meet with them, and then I'm handpicking the best scientists they've got, because this is going to happen. I'm going to damn well make sure of that."
"I get the point." Pepper sighed again. "All right."
"You're the best. Remind me to give you a raise. A present. A Big one."
"All right, Tony. I'll see you tomorrow." She hung up.
Tony leaned back in the chair for a moment, looking at the ceiling. "The wheels are in motion, Jarvis, old buddy."
"There's a certain point where you realise there's no turning back to the way you were."
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Date: 2014-01-03 11:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-03 03:06 pm (UTC)