Inception Kink Fest
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 ( Read more... )
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 ( Read more... )
I'll be out pretending to be a functioning member of society for the next day or so, so HERE TAKE THIS BEFORE I GO. ♥
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Eames soothes his palm over Arthur's skin, his hand starting to tingle. Harder is always an option, but harder than this is the kind of treatment that leaves Arthur bruised and unable to sit down for days, which shouldn't exactly become routine.
"No," Eames says, and Arthur whines.
"Please," he says imploringly, "I need it harder, daddy, please."
Arthur learned early on that classifying his whims and wants as needs was a quick route to getting his own way. It didn't fool Eames for long, but that hasn't stopped Arthur from trying.
"It's not your decision," Eames says simply. He lands another blow, with enough force to satisfy anyone who isn't Arthur, then dips one finger inside him just long enough for him to feel it. "Who does this belong to?"
Arthur takes a shaky breath. There's a trace of defiance in his eyes when he glances over his shoulder, but it's replaced with sweet, open surrender when he meets Eames' cool gaze.
"You," he says quietly.
Eames nods, circling Arthur's hole with his fingertip, "I know what you need, Arthur. I'll give you what you need. Count off ten for me."
He doesn't go easy with these licks, but the force is nowhere near Arthur's limit, nowhere near what he begged for. So he cries out with each strike, but he still has enough voice to keep up his count every time Eames' palm comes down on his ass, "Six," and "Seven," and "E-eight." He's just on the edge of losing it by the time he whimpers "Nine," and ten is a little harder - "Ten," is a sob.
"Good boy," Eames murmurs, running one hand over his damp hair while the other soothes his hot, abused skin. "Such a good boy, Arthur."
Arthur moans at that, his hips pushing urgently against Eames' lap, then rising away as he clings to control. He's waited so long, he's so close to coming that even just the press of Eames' legs would be enough, but he knows he can't, not yet.
"Please, daddy," he whimpers, and Eames waits for the 'harder,' but it doesn't come. Just please, just something, anything, anything Eames will give him.
"You'll get what you need, Arthur," Eames promises again, watching Arthur squirm on his lap, raking his eyes over pale, delicate skin, tracing fingers over the place where white turns to red and hot. "Ten more, now."
Arthur's breath catches helplessly at the first one, his whole body jerking. He chokes out the number only a second before the next blow lands, and by the third and fourth, he's tripping over the words, slurring them into the bedspread where he's pressed his face. "Five," has him reaching back to clutch blindly at Eames' shirt. By "Six," Eames can hear a change in his sobs.
"Arthur," he says softly, resting his hand low on Arthur's thigh and running coaxing fingers through his hair, "Look at me, beautiful, look up."
Arthur takes a shaky gasp of air, twisting just enough for Eames to take in glistening lashes and wet cheekbones.
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Eames pulls his fingers free, escaping Arthur's greedy, chasing tongue. "Just four more, can you do that for me?"
Arthur nods, whispering a hoarse, "Yes," before he settles back down, raising his hips obediently, waiting to be hit. Eames takes a steadying breath as he brings his hand down again, quick and sharp, hearing the wet sob that sounds close enough to "Seven," to count. His palm tingles and burns, at least partly in sympathy, but he lands eight just as hard, and at the next, Arthur seems to lose his breath completely.
"That's nine, Arthur," Eames reminds him gently.
"Nnn, nine," Arthur gasps, his body vibrating with tension, wracked with sobs.
Eames brings his hand down one last time, and it's no softer than before, but Arthur whimpers out "Ten," as soon as it lands, like he was saving his energy for that one last push.
There's no pause - Eames doesn't leave Arthur to float in that haze of pain, instead gathering him up straight away, lifting his quivering weight and lying back on the bed, pulling Arthur on top of him, letting him cling weakly to Eames' shirt.
"Good boy, such a good boy," Eames murmurs, littering kisses over his face, his salty-wet cheeks. His hand trails down Arthur's back, where he tenses at the touch to his sore, abused skin, but draws his knees up anyway, spreading himself open and straddling Eames' hips. Eames pushes two fingers inside him. "You know what you need, don't you? Tell me, Arthur."
"Daddy," Arthur sobs, hot breath on Eames' collarbone, rocking back to get the fingers deeper.
"Tell me what you need, sweetheart, you can do it."
"You," Arthur says, slurring the word into Eames' skin, on the edge of that fog that he'd lose himself in if Eames wasn't here to hold onto him. "Just you, anything, please."
Eames kisses the top of his head and presses in a third finger, stretching rough and fast, the way Arthur likes it. "You're all I need too, Arthur," he whispers, feeling Arthur tighten at the words. "Do you want me to fuck you?"
Arthur moans, "Yes, daddy."
"You're already wet for me," Eames tells him, his fingers slippery when he slides them out, slicked with his own come from hours before. He circles Arthur's entrance, then pushes back in roughly, "Do you want daddy to come inside you again?"
"Yes, daddy, please," Arthur breathes, nodding against Eames' chest.
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i... jesus, just continue please...
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