Five Acts

Apr. 22nd, 2010 09:37 am
jouissant: image of nebula (porn?)
[personal profile] jouissant
Just saw this over at [livejournal.com profile] janice_lester's journal and scrambled to post a list of my own!





The rules:

- Post a list of your five favorite acts/kinks to read about. Let [livejournal.com profile] toestastegood know here.
- At the bottom, add what fandoms/pairings you're interested in.
- Read other people's lists.
- Post comment-fic based off of other people's lists.

Moi:

Acts: (It was really hard to pick only 5.)


1.Begging or offering (begging or pleading for mercy, for sexual release, to be taken; a character offering himself; neediness)
2. Clothes fetishization (of any kind, e.g., uniforms; leather gear; worn blue jeans; thigh-highs; stilettos; leather jackets; tuxedos or GQ wear; constricting or modest clothes; boxer-briefs; going commando)
3. Topping from the bottom
4. UST (unresolved sexual tension)
5. Dominance/submission (or power imbalance roleplay)



Fandoms/pairings:

*Star Trek XI- Spock, Kirk, Gaila, Uhura, McCoy- combinations thereof (this is my main fandom, FYI)
*Harry Potter- Snape/Harry, Snape/Hermione, pretty much Snape/anyone
*LOTR- Elf-oriented slash, het, or femmeslash.

Date: 2010-04-22 09:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cannedebonbon.livejournal.com
I don't even need to make my own list because obviously you've read my mind. ESPECIALLY YOUR NUMBER 1, 3 and 5. UGH. <3

Snape in tight jeans

Date: 2010-04-23 03:56 am (UTC)
ext_387759: Screengrab from "Turnabout Intruder", Spock prepared to meld with Janice who is really Kirk (Ignore my brain)
From: [identity profile] janice-lester.livejournal.com
“This… garment you bought me,” Snape said, pulling a face, “does not fit.”

It took Harry a while to realise he had spoken. All that lovely blue denim, with the sparkly bits Harry liked, hugging Snape’s arse and thighs like a really, really greedy lover— “Er, what was that?”

“Doesn’t fit,” Snape repeated, after rolling his eyes and undoubtedly calling Harry names totally at least seventy-five syllables in the privacy of his own head.

“Looks like a perfect fit to me,” Harry breathed, unable to keep from stepping closer, from running a hand over Snape’s surprisingly round little bum in those jeans. “You’ve just been conditioned by years and years of loose robes. And you’d really stand out in robes where we’re going.”

Snape folded his arms, which made the white t-shirt ride up just a little above the waist-band of the jeans.

Harry’s mouth watered.

“Which is?” Snape demanded, in that I Am Your Elder And You Will Obey Me tone that never, ever worked on Harry.

He grinned, even as he surreptitiously checked the Iron Maiden tickets were still in his pocket. “You’ll find out. We should probably—”

“Do I have time to exchange this ridiculous attire for something more—”

“Nope,” Harry replied cheerfully, grabbing him by the wrist when he went for his wand, presumably thinking of magically adjusting the fit of all that lovely, lovely denim, and snogging him for good measure in case of objection. “We have just—” he pushed Snape against the nearest wall, grateful once again for the rigours of Auror training and its inevitable effect on his muscles “—enough time for—” he slid smoothly to his knees on the living room carpet “—this.” He undid Snape’s fly, and, all right, the jeans didn’t exactly fall down, so he supposed he could understand his lover’s concern over their snugness. But he didn’t care, because Snape, in jeans, was… was just…

Harry had always had trouble thinking with his mouth full.

Re: Snape in tight jeans

Date: 2010-04-23 04:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jouissant.livejournal.com
EEEEEEEEEEE!!!

WHERE IS MY SNAPE ICON? I need one, clearly.

This is so awesome!!! Thank you so much.

All that lovely blue denim, with the sparkly bits Harry liked, hugging Snape’s arse and thighs like a really, really greedy lover

Yes, please!

Iron Maiden tickets! BRB, dying of lols from picturing Snape at an Iron Maiden concert.

The rhythm of the last full paragraph was perfect- I love when action is punctuated by dialogue but I think it's really hard to get right, and you nailed it. Nice!

Date: 2010-04-23 03:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lallyloo.livejournal.com
Ohhhh someone wrote you "jeans" fic already! D: Hope this works for you anyway! :)

Blue

He only wore the jeans while on shore leave. The worn denim, faded and torn, seemed to hang perfectly from Jim's hips. The material highlighted the roundness of Jim's ass, and they hung so low that Spock was occasionally able to catch a peak at Jim's hipbones when he moved just so and his shirt was pulled a little too high.

Not that Spock was watching.

The jeans were an intriguing choice. To go from the tidy and refined Starfleet regulation uniform to the ripped and unrefined denim that seemed to reveal a bit too much of the Captain's.. assets – the clothing choice was so typically Jim Kirk. It made him look a little damaged, a little wild, and certainly nothing like a starship captain. Perhaps that was the idea. Perhaps Jim wanted to disappear in the anonymity of shore leave.

Sometimes Spock wanted to disappear too.

He was always so in control. So dignified. But the anonymity of shore leave was intriguing, and Spock suddenly wished he was wearing something other than his uniform. Something more civilian.

Jim moved through the room, nodding casually at those who waved or leered a little too long, and stopped to order a drink. As he leaned slightly over the bar, the fabric was molded perfectly across his buttocks, and other patrons seemed to notice. Spock could see them watching Jim, coveting what was his. Or, what should be his.

Spock was not possessive, and jealousy was an emotion and therefore illogical.

But he was brave. Suddenly so brave he moved out of the shadows and cut quickly across the room, moving in silently behind Jim Kirk, and sliding a hand into the back pocket of those fascinating jeans.

Jim turned to Spock, and a flash of realization spread across his face.

He grinned.

“Took you long enough.”

Date: 2010-04-23 04:49 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jouissant.livejournal.com
There can never be too much jeans!fic, never fear! :D

I love this! Of course Jim in jeans would be the nail in the coffin for Spock's self-control.

But he was brave. Suddenly so brave he moved out of the shadows and cut quickly across the room, moving in silently behind Jim Kirk, and sliding a hand into the back pocket of those fascinating jeans.

So perfect. The hand in the back pocket move is so sweet, and i love that that was Spock's first impulse. Thank you so much for this!!

Date: 2010-04-23 05:46 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lallyloo.livejournal.com
Yay! I'm glad you liked it! And you're welcome! :D

Kirk/McCoy, corset 1/3

Date: 2010-04-25 10:16 am (UTC)
ext_387759: Screengrab from "Turnabout Intruder", Spock prepared to meld with Janice who is really Kirk (Holding hands)
From: [identity profile] janice-lester.livejournal.com
Um, this one got a bit weird and I'm really not sure what to make of it, but it wouldn't leave me alone and I blame you and so here it is... :-)
***


Leonard had always wanted the corset. Opalescent white, made of some unidentifiable modern material, cut straight at the top and equipped with delicate straps, it had called to him every single time he walked through the spacious but slightly dilapidated sex shop off main street.

He did this twice-monthly for several years, because he ran an informal clinic—first as a precocious twenty-year-old med student, in due course as a full-fledged physician—for people with sex- and sex-toy-related medical questions. It was a way of keeping in touch with regular people, not losing too much perspective in the textbooks and clinical presentations that more or less ring-fenced his life for those years between college and Starfleet. He usually had some enjoyment in these little Q&A sessions of his, but walking in past the corset was always a highlight.

The first year or so, he’d looked at it up there on the highest mannequin, the hung one so high up the wall he figured it might never sell because hauling it down for customers to try on was just too much damn hassle, and he’d thought soon. Just let us get settled down as man and wife, get comfortable with one another, and then I’ll broach the subject. Later, when he knew himself and his wife better, and still hadn’t dared ask her about corsets, he looked at it more wistfully. One day, maybe. Later still, he knew it would never happen. He’d learned enough about Jocelyn to know that he didn’t inspire her to great heights of sexual passion or exploration, and she was quite comfortable with their ordinary, uninspiring, unremarkable sex life, or lack thereof. That the people who came to him with questions were Not Like Us, Leonard, with a side order of Thank Goodness and a subtext of Those Freaks! He doubted she’d ever been to the place before she formed that opinion, but he had no joy in suggesting she should.

After she told him she was getting a divorce and wanted him as far away from her and hers as possible, Leonard stopped by the sex shop on his way out of town and made them climb up there and get his goddamn corset.

(Simon had looked up from the artful architectural display he was forming out of variously-sized buttplug boxes, glanced at Mo scaling the stepladder then back at Leonard, and mouthed “About time, Doc.”)

That night, in a dingy motel room as far from Atlanta as the public transit system had been able to take him in six hours without any gravity defying stunts, he fondled the precious thing through the tissue paper the little but frightening blue-haired shop girl had wrapped it in and wondered if he would ever find someone to wear it for him. But he couldn’t picture the Cinderella it might fit.

It was only at the academy, the night before he was scheduled to start the dreaded flying lessons (mandatory, damn it), that it occurred to him that the corset was essentially unisex, and fairly adjustable because it laced all the way up the back. It would probably fit him. And there was no reason why not—was there? It was his corset, there was absolutely no reason he shouldn’t—

One reason, as it turned out. Mighty hard to lace a corset up by himself, neophyte that he was. Arm joints just didn’t bend the way he really needed to reach the small of his back comfortably, let alone that awkward part above. Things looked grim.

But Leonard McCoy was nothing if not mule-stubborn. And if, once the deed was satisfactorily accomplished, he stood for a long while in front of the bathroom mirror and grinned at himself—well, that was triumph, not vanity. Nothing wrong with that.

Kirk/McCoy, corset 2/3

Date: 2010-04-25 10:19 am (UTC)
ext_387759: Screengrab from "Turnabout Intruder", Spock prepared to meld with Janice who is really Kirk (Holding hands)
From: [identity profile] janice-lester.livejournal.com
Okay, so he liked it. A lot. The material had memory, so the more he wore it the better it seemed to fit, the closer it seemed to mould to his body, until he almost fancied his corset loved him as much as he loved it.

It was also rather good for his posture, reminding if not forcing him to sit up straight, and it made him aware of his continuing to breathe in a way that was pretty damn reassuring in shuttle simulations and the like. And it wasn’t like anyone could tell he was wearing it under his reds and regulation undergarments. It made him feel as if a faithful friend were hugging him all day long. Comforted. Cared for. Content. And whenever he remembered how the thing looked, he felt sexy too.

So it became a pretty standard part of his daytime attire, outside the gym (where it was too restrictive and likely to show beneath the tank and sweats he worked out in) and at the hospital (where it would be at risk of any number of spills which might land it in a biohazard disposal container). It was his secret, and he hoarded and protected it as only a man who has lost much in his life knows how.

So it was not at all in his game plan for Jim Kirk of all people of find out. But Jim Kirk was no great respecter of other people’s game plans, it would seem. Jim Kirk, who was apt to burst into Leonard's dorm at all hours without warning. Jim Kirk, who pawed through his stuff and borrowed things without invitation. Jim Kirk, who thought consideration of boundaries and personal space were entirely in the province of other people.

On that fateful day, the said Jim Kirk decided it would be a fine idea to wrestle Leonard McCoy to the ground while he was innocently crossing the academy quad after acing his toxicology test on various common, apparently innocuous alien substances that could kill a careless ensign stone dead inside a minute. Said Jim Kirk had expressed concerns about Leonard's ability to pass Hand-to-Hand Combat I, and had apparently decided that this sunny afternoon and this uninhabited grassy area would be the ideal time and venue for a practical defence lesson.

“Hang on,” said Jim, partway into his attempt to get Leonard to fight back by tickling him. ‘That can’t be a rib. It’s too vertic—”

“Damn it, Jim, there’ll be grass stains—”

Annoying kid was still feeling around, tracing the path of one of the corset’s bones through the layers of Leonard's uniform garments. Leonard, accordingly, struggled like hell.

Which was a bad move, because it only confirmed to Jim that he was hiding something. And a determined Jim was far, far worse than an idly curious one.

This was not going to end well. Leonard might be heavier, but Jim invariably won these fights if you let him get you in a position of power, like, say, if he had you pinned to the fragrant academy lawn. Struggling therefore seemed somewhat on the ultimately pointless side.

“Ooh, is that another one?”

Leonard sighed and let his arms fall lax. “They’re bones, Jim.”

“They are so not bones—I may be a cadet, not a doctor, but I do have some notion of humanoid osteology, and this—”

Leonard closed his eyes briefly and surrendered to fate. “Bones as in boning, Jim. As in, the modern synthetic equivalent of longitudinal segments of whale bone. Get off me.”

It was strange how handsome Jim could look even while flummoxed, confused, and frowning like a small child who’d just been asked to multiply three-digit numbers in his head.

“A back brace?” he suggested, sounding uncertain.

“Get off me, and I’ll show you. After I’ve had a god-damn drink.” And if you crack up, he privately added, so help me, I will make your painful, extended death look like an unfortunate masturbatory accident…

Kirk/McCoy, corset 3/3

Date: 2010-04-25 10:23 am (UTC)
ext_387759: Screengrab from "Turnabout Intruder", Spock prepared to meld with Janice who is really Kirk (Holding hands)
From: [identity profile] janice-lester.livejournal.com
Jim didn’t crack up, but he did finish his drink awfully fast. Then he tackled Leonard for the second time that afternoon, though fortunately it resulted in a bed-based rather than a ground-based landing this time. And there were wandering hands again, but also kisses and a squirming, intermittently giggling Jim.

“Damn it, Jim, you had better not be laughing,” Leonard growled, when he had the chance.

“Settle, petal. I’m appreciating. Never knew you were the kinky sort, McCoy.”

“I’m not.”

Jim’s fingers skimmed the corset’s busk. “Bullshit.”

Leonard huffed a sigh and helped himself to a handful of firm Kirk ass. “Fine. I’m the kinky sort.” A hot shiver zinged through him before settling in his cock. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Jim kissed his nose, going briefly cross-eyed in the process. Quite how this managed to be adorable Leonard did not know. “First, I’m going to fuck you. Or possibly you’ll fuck me.” He frowned. Reached for a pocket. “Hang on.”

Leonard watched in consternation as Jim got out his wallet and produced from it—of all things—an antique coin. Which he sat up and flipped.

Jim inspected the coin where it had landed on Leonard’s white-encased stomach. Grinned hugely. “Allrightythen.”

Leonard frowned at him as loudly as possible. “Well?” Oh, damn, now it sounded like he actually condoned this whole performance.

“Heads,” Jim said, getting up and beginning to remove and toss away garments with incredible alacrity. “Where’s the lube?”

“You are incorrigible, kid.”

“Thanks.” Those blue, blue eyes flicked down, towards Leonard's corset-constrained chest. “Bones.” He looked as if a light had gone on somewhere inside that deviant skull. “Bones,” he repeated happily. “Bones, Bones, Bones.” He jumped back onto the bed, narrowly avoiding damage to any part of Leonard's entirely innocent person.

I don’t want to know. I so don’t want to know. “Did I just get the Cupcake treatment, Jim?”

“Nah. Your new nickname’s the product of several weeks’ serious searching and shit, not sudden whim. And it totally suits you, Bones. You are definitely a Bones. You are like the epitome of Bones. There has never been a better Bones. I will tell people that you are Bones, and they will wonder how they did not know just from looking at you that this was so. For you are my Bones, and this is—”

Fuck it, Leonard decided. Easier to have sex with him than listen to him. And this corset needs christening, damn it...

Re: Kirk/McCoy, corset 3/3

Date: 2010-04-26 12:34 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jouissant.livejournal.com
AAAAAAAH!!

I am spoiled, woman! Two amazing comment-fics from you?
This is so great.

But Leonard McCoy was nothing if not mule-stubborn. And if, once the deed was satisfactorily accomplished, he stood for a long while in front of the bathroom mirror and grinned at himself—well, that was triumph, not vanity. Nothing wrong with that.

I love how you let Bones own his kink, how after awhile it became something just for him. And how that was not just ok, but thoroughly satisfying for him, with Jim's appreciation kind of ending up the icing on the cake.

“Settle, petal. I’m appreciating. Never knew you were the kinky sort, McCoy.”

Hee! I love that Jim flips a coin, too.

And this?
“Nah. Your new nickname’s the product of several weeks’ serious searching and shit, not sudden whim. And it totally suits you, Bones. You are definitely a Bones. You are like the epitome of Bones. There has never been a better Bones. I will tell people that you are Bones, and they will wonder how they did not know just from looking at you that this was so. For you are my Bones, and this is—”

This made me go "Awwww" and flail a little. This is my new head-canon for how Bones got his nickname. So, so sweet.

This story is just so great.

Re: Kirk/McCoy, corset 3/3

Date: 2010-04-26 12:57 am (UTC)
ext_387759: Screengrab from "Turnabout Intruder", Spock prepared to meld with Janice who is really Kirk (Bones!)
From: [identity profile] janice-lester.livejournal.com
Glad you liked it. :-)
I think that, after hearing that the "all I got left is ma bones" line was Karl Urban's idea, I've sort of become obsessed with devising alternative ways McCoy could have got his nickname. Hence, corset bones and Corset!Bones. :-)

Re: Kirk/McCoy, corset 3/3

Date: 2010-04-26 07:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lallyloo.livejournal.com
I just have to say... HOW DID YOU GET INSIDE MY HEAD??

I know this was for [livejournal.com profile] jouissant but holy god, you could've been filling the one prompt that I've never bothered to post on the stxi kink meme because I never thought anyone would fill it.

I've been wanting "McCoy in a corset" fic for ages now! It stemmed from a joke about a Gone With the Wind and STXI crossover, but it grew into me really really wanting to read about McCoy in a corset. So OMG. You are my hero!

I'm just sorry it ended when it did.. Any chance for part two? ;)

Re: Kirk/McCoy, corset 3/3

Date: 2010-04-26 10:35 pm (UTC)
ext_387759: Screengrab from "Turnabout Intruder", Spock prepared to meld with Janice who is really Kirk (Holding hands)
From: [identity profile] janice-lester.livejournal.com
I'm glad you liked it. I have no idea where the idea came from, except that I wanted to do something a lit less expected than my 'Snape in tight jeans' above. I can't promise a sequel, but if I did happen to attempt one what would you like to see in it?

Re: Kirk/McCoy, corset 3/3

Date: 2010-04-27 03:19 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lallyloo.livejournal.com
Well, I'd love to see them standing, and Jim taking McCoy from behind (against a wall or something) while McCoy's wearing only the corset.

(my original kink for it developed from this photo.. and that photo lead to the GWTW crossover joke, which then lead to me really really wanting to see McCoy wearing something like that.. because it's hot!)

But really I'm just happy to see anything involving McCoy in a corset, so any sort of sequel would be fantastic! No pressure though! What you've already written is awesome as is, and I'm just glad someone wrote it! :D
Edited Date: 2010-04-27 03:21 pm (UTC)

Date: 2010-05-19 03:16 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lallyloo.livejournal.com
Sorry this took so long, but I did another fill for you here. :D

Date: 2010-05-19 03:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lallyloo.livejournal.com
And err.. I wrote a sequel because the first part just wasn't right - here.

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