Inception Kink Fest

[cherrybina]

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

Comments

Yet another fill (barebacking, possessiveness, size kink) 2/3

[eleveninches]

"Did you come already?" Eames asked. He kissed Arthur's knee before leaning back to take off his own shirt. "Did you put on my shirt and rub one off?"

"I started to," Arthur said. Eames sucked in a sharp breath as a flash of arousal hit him, and Arthur smirked. "I could smell you everywhere. I started touching myself through my shorts, pretending it was your hand on me." As he said this, his hand slid down to his cock and started stroking it.

Tossing the pants over the side of the bed, Eames knelt between Arthur's legs and mouthed at his inner thigh. "Why'd you stop?" he asked, dragging his cheek across Arthur's skin to feel the scrape of his stubble against it. He soothed the pink flesh with his tongue.

"I was waiting for you," Arthur replied.

Naked now, Eames went to his knees and grabbed Arthur by the hips, dragging his arse onto his lap. He loved watching Arthur bend and twist for him, the way Arthur groaned and wrapped his strong legs round Eames' waist. When Arthur stretched his arms over his head, the shirt rode up, putting everything on display, framed by Arthur's fair skin and the blue and purple stripes of the Oxford: the arch of his back, his lean, lightly-haired thighs, his hard, red cock. Arthur knew exactly what he was doing to Eames, and right now, he would have loved to counter that confidence with a faint disinterest, to make Arthur beg for his cock (and he'd done it before, had Arthur writhing and begging Eames to just stick it in), but he couldn't tonight, not with Arthur like this. Not with Arthur wearing something of Eames' like he belonged to Eames, too.

He ran a hand up Arthur's leg but stopped before he reached his cock. Instead, he spread Arthur's legs a little further. He knew -- and had seen in person, multiple times -- Arthur could do almost a full split, but he opened Arthur's legs just enough to feel his thighs tremble, until Arthur had to cross his ankles to keep them locked in place. His heels dug into Eames' back almost painfully.

Arthur made a frustrated sound. "What're you doing?"

"Enjoying the view," said Eames, stroking a hand over one jutting hip bone.

His own cock, slick with precum, brushed against Arthur's as he leaned forward to grab one of his hands. Once he was resting back on his haunches, he sucked Arthur's fingers into his mouth. Arthur's cock twitched as Eames swirled his tongue round each digit; the only sound in the room was the wet slide of Eames' tongue and Arthur's quick breaths. Eames' shirt was open on either side of Arthur's rising and falling chest, like a half-opened present.

When his fingers were wet enough, he pushed Arthur's hand down between his thighs. "Get yourself ready for me."

"The lube's in the drawer," Arthur said, arching a brow. But he slid a hand behind his bollocks and pushed a finger in anyway.

"I know," Eames replied, intently watching the flutter of Arthur's eyelids, "but my shirt on you, my spit opening you up, my come in your arse--"

Moaning, Arthur pushed another finger in himself. "Yeah?"