Welcome to the Inception fandom Kink Fest!
This fandom puts out some seriously amazing fic on a regular basis, but I am of the opinion that there should always always ALWAYS be more kinky porn. You guys, our fandom has guns and bondage and daddy issues and dream forgery. I say it's time to bring on the kink, yes?
♥ Inception Kink Fest ♥You can
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"This is not inspiring me to great confidence," Arthur says, eying the machine. It sits on the bed between them, a harness that seems perfectly shaped to Arthur's hips and an appendage attached, ten inches of silicone powered by what looks like a spring. There's a switchboard with two controls: on/off, and intensity/speed. Arthur looks at the speed dial and feels dizzy behind his eyelids. "No really," he says. "Why are you the sort of creep who buys sex toys at clearance sales. I am so repulsed by you right now."
"Then why are you having an erection?" Eames asks.
"Oh for god's sake--" Arthur says, and Eames pulls him closer, laughing.
"Come on," he says, biting down on Arthur's bottom lip. He kisses Arthur slowly and Arthur reluctantly squirms on Eames' lap. "Come on," Eames repeats. "Let the nice, clean in-no-way-questionable sex machine have its way with you." He pulls his mouth from Arthur and adds, almost thoughtfully, "You still owe me five dollars."
"Are you... are you actually putting a price on this?" Arthur asks.
"No," Eames says.
Arthur looks up at the ceiling.
"Yes, maybe?" Eames says. "Fine, we'll clear your debt and I'll be the next person who strokes Cobb's hair when he's hugging the toilet drunk and crying."
"Fuck me now," Arthur says, spreading his legs. Eames grins as he helps Arthur undress and climb into the harness. Arthur has no idea why Eames is bringing this up now, and if he's lying about the sale at all or if this is a fantasy he's long kept close to his chest. He finds the latter thought sends a burning sensation across his nerves; he shivers at the idea of Eames thinking about this, planning it, fingering the leather harness in the store and ordering it to Arthur's specifications. It's surprisingly warm against his skin, and Arthur relaxes into a position that puts him on his knees with his head bowed and his dog tags dangling in front of him.
Eames touches his back, his fingers a spidery kiss, and for all that his voice is full of swagger, the touch is gentle. Arthur closes his eyes. "If you want to stop, tell me," Eames says. "You get that right? We don't have to do anything you don't want to."
"Shut up," Arthur says. "Shut up and turn the damn machine on."
"Should have known you'd be that greedy," Eames marvels. "You don't want lube first?" His rough fingers trail to Arthur's hole, and Arthur feels his ass clench at the memory of those fingers, blunt and hot and clever. "You want me to shove the cock right into you and turn it up all the way? It'd be so intense. I don't know if you could even handle it."
Arthur laughs. "You're underestimating me."
"Never," Eames says, but he gets out the lube anyway, and unlike the leather, it's cold against Arthur's skin, but Eames works it inside of him expertly, and Arthur feels himself open and stretch. He feels slippery inside, and he uses the opportunity to push back against Eames, driving his fingers even deeper, but then Eames makes a sound like 'ah-ah-ah' and says, "You forget. I'm not your ride tonight, Arthur. You're going to come on the machine, not me."
Arthur doesn't know if he's excited or disappointed, but Eames runs his lube-slicked fingers through Arthur's hair and then chases his fingers into Arthur's mouth. Arthur sucks him noisily, and Eames chuckles as he uses his other hand to pull the silicone cock to Arthur's ass. "Ready?" he asks, and when Arthur nods, Eames guides it inside."Fuck," he gasps out loud, and then Eames turns on the switch without warning and Arthur feels his entire body come alive at the same time the machine does.
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"Jesus," he says, and he can't explain how good it feels, the short, sharp thrusts of the machine, riding on the wet easiness inside Arthur's ass that Eames has so carefully prepared. It's different from being fucked by a human, not so much in speed or in control, but there's a vibration to it that Arthur's never felt before, and the machine buzzes along the line of Arthur's ass, making him shake. His arms feel weak suddenly, unable to hold him up, but then he can hear Eames bend down and whisper in his ear, tell him that this is the lowest setting, it's just the beginning of what Arthur is going to get.
"You're going to get reamed good," Eames says, beautiful and commanding. "You're going to get fucked until you can't stand it anymore, until you lose track of how many times you've come. Because the machine, it's not going to stop, Arthur. It's not going to get tired." He kisses Arthur's ear and Arthur groans.
He can feel it when Eames the speed and intensity up, because there's an added edge to the thrusts, an additional measure of hardness, and Arthur's breath grows ragged in his throat. The strokes of the machine are so even, so steady, and he knows that Eames is right. The machine is never going to give out; it's only Arthur here who will fall to pieces.
He's determined to hold out as long as he can though, to come not a moment too soon. But then Eames is saying, "Wait, I don't think the angle is quite right." He stops the machine and readjusts the cock inside Arthur's ass. Arthur's throat is desert dry, he feels like he's under the harsh glare of a southern sun. "There we go," Eames says, and when he turns the machine back on, Arthur realizes what he's done. The cock is now angled right for Arthur's prostate, and Arthur lets out a moan that's more animal than human.
"Eames," he says, licking his lips. He starts pushing back against the machine. Eames turns it up to the third setting, and Arthur's hips snap faster. His dog tags swing against his chest, sweaty. "Eames, how many... how far up does it go?"
"Five," Eames replies. "And you're going to make it all the way there."
Eames is wrong though. By the time they get to the fourth setting Arthur's arms have given out and Eames has to tighten the harness to hold him up. Arthur's eyes are blank and unseeing, and he's shuddering, unable to keep up with the ferocity of the machine; he still pushes back, but his thrusts are shallow and erratic. He lets the machine do the work as he hangs there on the cutting edge of orgasm. Eames kisses his shoulders, his neck, his back. "Don't come yet," he says. "We've still got one more setting to go."
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"Think of unsexy things," Eames says. "Balance it out."
But all Arthur can feel is the steady push in his ass, the hum, the vibration, the delicious angle. His breath skates out shakily and he makes a sobbing sound that must have some effect on Eames, because Eames' voice goes quiet and he says, "All right. Here's the fifth setting. Just hold on, Arthur. Just hold on for a little while longer."
And Arthur will do his best for Eames, but when the fifth setting switches on, it's like he doesn't have control over his body anymore because the cock shoves against his prostate roughly again and again, and he's just a man, just as helpless as anybody when his balls tighten and he comes all over the bed, comes in uneven jerks that shake his knees. The machine fucks him through it, disinterested. Arthur's ass spasms around the length of the machine cock, and then he feels Eames' hand cupping his cheek, and he comes some more.
It's only after Eames has turned the machine off that Arthur sees Eames' cock hanging out of his pants, and Eames' fingers sticky with his own precome. Arthur lies back on the bed and says hoarsely, "I want more. I want you to fuck me."
"Christ," says Eames, but he doesn't ask for clarification. He climbs over Arthur, bends Arthur's legs over his shoulders, and pushes right into him, where it's loose and easy. Arthur's body feels like it's on a high, like there's nothing it can't conquer, and Eames is solid and wide inside of him. Arthur sinks his nails into the muscles of Eames' forearms and pushes his hips against him. He doesn't think he can come again, but he wants Eames to come, wants to yank Eames' orgasm out of him like a piece of shrapnel. Eames pushes Arthur down on the bed, wild-eyed, and he fucks Arthur like a beast before throwing his head back and coming. No condom, they don't use them anymore, just ropes of Eames' come inside Arthur's sore ass.
Afterwards, when Arthur has the energy to lift his head from Eames' chest, he says, "You didn't buy the machine, did you? You made it yourself."
"You got me there," Eames says lazily, smoothing the ruin of Arthur's hair.
"That's right, I fucking do," Arthur replies, and smiles against Eames' tattoos.
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Hot and so many feelings, Nance!
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Are you trying to kill me with porn, woman? Because if so, you have suceeded. Congrats.
XD
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And then I finished it and I screamed some more because how is this so hot, holy shit, I am going to go read it another five times now. ♥
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Good god, woman, it's like you're INSIDE MY SUPER-SEKRIT FANTASY LIFE, WTF. This is so incredibly hot that I don't even know what to do with myself. Arthur's dubiousness, their bargain, the dog tags, Eames working up one setting at a time, the sex after the sex, Arthur's head on Eames' chest akljakjlasf...oh my god. You. Amazing.
♥
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"Fuck me now," Arthur says, spreading his legs.
i love this exchange so much.
oh, oh and then the rest of it. dear god, that was hot. and this: He doesn't think he can come again, but he wants Eames to come, wants to yank Eames' orgasm out of him like a piece of shrapnel. this is beautiful.
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Oh, Nancy. I am in so much love. This was so wonderful, I'm seeing stars. ♥
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t-t-t-t-this was so hot oh my god. oh my god.
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