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magicianskinkmeme2017-01-27 10:48 pm
shmaz) wrote in magicianskinkmeme2017-01-27 10:48 pm
Entry tags:
Round #1, February 2017
Rules:
1. Golden rule: YKINMKATO.
2. Book spoilers must be clearly tagged in post titles.
3. All comments must be anonymous.
4. Please title your prompt posts. All prompts are welcome, from fluff to angst to smut.
5. Fills must be posted as a response to the original prompt (links to AO3 etc are allowed) & must have "FILL" in the title.
6. Multiple fills for the same prompt are allowed and welcomed.
7. Content warnings will not be enforced but are appreciated.
8. Please wait until the next round to repost a prompt.
Welcome to Round #1 of the Magicians Kinkmeme! Please hop over to the mod post if you have any questions. When you fill a prompt, please feel free to link to it in the fills post so that others can easily find it.
Have fun and be kind to each other!
FILL Quentin/Eliot/Margot kinky fuckbuddies (1/???)
(Anonymous) 2017-01-31 04:39 am (UTC)(link)Quentin always makes a mewling noise when he comes, his palm pressed hard across his mouth and nose to muffle the sound. It’s self-conscious and desperate and maybe a little bit pathetic, but it’s also quickly become one of the things Margo likes best about him.
Margo and Eliot probably should have felt guilty when Alice and Quentin broke up, which was arguably a direct result of their hazily-remembered fucking around. But guilt is for other people and really it just makes it easier, the next time they’re happy-drunk, for Eliot to catch Q by the wrist and pull him in for a kiss underneath Margo’s gaze and the warm glow of the patio lights.
Quentin stumbles forward, knees knocking against the coffee table and rattling the empty wine bottles strewn across it, and he laughs into Eliot’s mouth like it’s all part of some joke he just hasn’t caught on to yet.
But then Eliot reaches up to wrap his free hand around the back of Q’s neck and pull him closer and Quentin’s laughter stops dead. Somehow neither of them spill their wine as he drops into Eliot’s lap, and then it’s only the sound of grasshoppers and gasping breaths and the rustling of trousers as Q, his gangly legs straddling Eliot’s chair, opens his mouth wider and grinds himself downwards.
Margo chews on her wine-stained bottom lip and observes. She nearly draws blood when Eliot opens his eyes to wink at her over Q’s shoulder.
Game on.
“D’you think he’d let me fuck him?” Eliot asks one day.
It’s late afternoon, or maybe early evening - they’ve been hunched over a pile of textbooks in a shadowy corner of the library for so long that time has lost all meaning. For all they know, civilization might’ve crumbled outside. Studying is rare for them, so when it actually happens they tend to make a production out of it: carafes of single-origin coffee and tiers of scones and finger sandwiches and shit, all of which they half-assedly sneak past the librarian. Whatever it takes to keep their asses in their seats for as long as possible, because even really fucking good magicians need to study when it comes to bullshit like The Magical Applications of Precious Metal Alloys.
Fuck midterms.
“Like, fuck-fuck him?” Margo rolls her eyes as Eliot nods, stone-faced, and makes a slow, unecessarily vulgar gesture with his fingers. “Jesus, El. Maybe? But he’d probably be all awkward about it.”
“Oh, no question.” Eliot nods, faux-pensively resting his chin in his hand. He picks at the corner of a nibbled-on lemon scone. “But worth exploring, we think?”
“Sure.” Margo shrugs. The image of Quentin, eyes squeezed shut and mouth falling open and legs wide, making that sound, makes her shift in her seat, crossing her legs against the building distraction. Snatching up her pen, she tries to find where she left off, but she’s already too wet to pay attention to another bone-dry word of The Essential Guide to Minerals and Stones so she slams the book shut and reaches for another tepid cup of coffee (ignoring the insistent press of her clit as she leans forward). Gingerly taking a sip, she casually adds, “I mean, I think it might be worth exploring.”
Eliot shoots her a grin. "Thought so."
Re: FILL Quentin/Eliot/Margot kinky fuckbuddies (1/???)- OP
(Anonymous) 2017-01-31 09:30 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL Quentin/Eliot/Margot kinky fuckbuddies (1/???)- OP
(Anonymous) 2017-02-04 05:26 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL Quentin/Eliot/Margot kinky fuckbuddies (2/???)
(Anonymous) 2017-02-04 05:26 am (UTC)(link)It’s obvious from the get-go that Quentin doesn’t have a lot of sexual experience. Little fumbles make his face flush with embarrassment and they’ve had to train him out of constantly mumbling sorry, sorry when his fingers accidentally slip from their hold on Eliot’s cock or he comes without warning against Margo’s thigh.
And yet again, it’s all part of what Margo likes best about him: his lack of self-control and his clumsy but earnest reciprocations. He’s eager to please, and she’s always liked the awkward ones - they try the hardest.
Eliot takes him in his mouth, presses his tongue against the underside of Quentin’s cock. Q’s hips jolt slightly in response and he impatiently presses himself further into Eliot’s mouth. “Fuck, fuck,” he mutters, before slowly dragging himself back out again.
“Be good,” Margo instructs, lips brushing against Quentin’s ear. “He doesn’t do that” - she gestures at Eliot's flushed face slowly working away in Quentin's lap, the length of his naked body stretched out between Quentin's legs - “for just anybody. He’s picky.” She pauses. “Well, kind of.”
Through the hair falling over his face, Margo can just barely see the corners of Eliot’s mouth twitch. It’s as much of a smirk as he can manage with his mouth full and his gaze flicks up towards her. One hand lets go of its kneading grip on Quentin's inner thigh to flip her the bird and she grins back at him like a shark, urging him on: eat him alive.
Placing a firm hand on his stomach, Eliot presses Quentin down into the mattress and increases his pace.
Sharing has been a pet hobby of theirs for a while. It’s usually just some dumb, pretty stranger brought home from a nightclub for a night of casual sex and flippant drug use and then dumped unceremoniously outside Brakebill’s protection field before the sun rises. No biggie.
This thing with Quentin though (whatever the fuck it is) is different - it’s the first time they’ve brought someone familiar to bed with them, and more than once. This derailment, this situation, has the potential to complicate the whole fun, easy platonic-sex thing they’ve built - not because Quentin is some kind of Don Juan or anything, fuck no. But because there’s always been an unspoken acknowledgment between them that threesomes should be fleeting and meaningless, and this communally shared thirst and pent-up need feels discomfiting like neither of those things.
Then again they’re Margo and Eliot, pleasure-seeker extraordinaires, and catching feelings is for other people.
Margo takes Quentin’s hand and guides it between her legs. He makes an ill-defined ragged sound, something eloquent like “oh fucking -- motherfuck,” and sucks his bottom lip between his teeth as his fingertips glide shyly against her. She’s velvety-wet, more than wet, and when he finds her clit, thumb circling it gently, she hisses a breath. He works one finger into her, then two, as she presses her nose into the warm spot behind his ear. “You good?”
“Yeah,” Quentin sighs, voice hoarse. Margo’s fingernails drag their way through his damp hair and Q closes his eyes to lean into her touch like a housecat. “Good.”
“Good boy.” She flashes a grin at him before her breath hitches. Her eyes squeeze shut and she groans softly as he curls his middle finger inside of her and begins to stroke. “Jesus, Q.”
From her spot leaned against the headboard, with Quentin splayed sideways across the bed, his fingers still working semi-rhythmically inside of her (they stutter every time Eliot does something clever with his tongue), she has a perfect view. Eliot’s long legs hang off the bed, his toes digging into the floor as he leverages his body weight, holding Quentin still as he starts to gasp and buck under his grasp, fucking himself into Eliot’s mouth.
What a view it is: she’s always loved watching Eliot give head - even from a strictly clinical standpoint it’s masterful, all graceful twists of the wrist and acrobatic tongue and deliberate suction. There’s got to be some deeply unfair correlation between being tall and having a deep gag reflex, she suspects - either way, when he sucks his way down to the base of Quentin’s cock all in one, languid sweep without even a hint of effort, the muscles of Q’s thighs begin to visibly shake.
“Wait,” Quentin groans suddenly, stomach muscles tensing, “wait, no - I’m going to come, wait.”
“That’s kind of the point, boo,” Margo says, rolling her eyes. Spurred on, Eliot redoubles his efforts, the hand on Quentin’s stomach reaching up to drag nails along the curve of Quentin’s ribs eliciting a sharp, bitten-off gasp.
Margo leans down and grabs him by sharply by the jaw, kissing him hard and swallowing his whimpers as he comes.
Re: FILL Quentin/Eliot/Margot kinky fuckbuddies (2/???)
(Anonymous) 2017-02-05 01:28 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL Quentin/Eliot/Margot kinky fuckbuddies (2/???)
(Anonymous) 2017-03-17 10:20 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL Quentin/Eliot/Margot kinky fuckbuddies (2/???)
(Anonymous) 2017-03-26 10:09 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL Quentin/Eliot/Margot kinky fuckbuddies (COMPLETE)
(Anonymous) 2017-04-27 03:55 am (UTC)(link)<3<3<3
Re: FILL Quentin/Eliot/Margot kinky fuckbuddies (COMPLETE)
(Anonymous) 2017-05-03 09:37 am (UTC)(link)<3<3<3