Gimme Love Gimme Love Gimme Gimme Love + Fic: Hit Me Like You Mean It
A few random things today. First off thanks to everyone who a) contributed to the porn post, SO MANY AWESOME THOUGHTS, many of which articulated the main points better than I did, and b) hung out with me in voxli yesterday. IT WAS SO FUN. <3 Even if the consensus still is that I can't say trolling and trawling properly. ):
1. Watch this:
This came up in voxli today. I still think someone needs to write an Inception xover whereby Robert psychically controls the tire to get revenge on the team.
2. Read these:
a) Crime and Medicine by eleveninches aka the geek AU that isn't really an AU and is terribly awesome
b) Can't Get Enough Of You (Baby) by heyheyrenay aka the reason I will never write that kidfic, because this is THE canon kidfic for this ship. Seriously.
3. Somebody remind me after Re:BB is done to throw up the ZOMBOCALYPSE COMMENTFIC POST, okay? It's something else we were talking about on voxli yesterday and I am fucking doing it, because there can never be enough zombie killing, apocalypse surviving, guns and blood and bamfery.
4. Here is a repost of some commentfic I did a while back that I actually quite liked.
Title: Hit Me Like You Mean It
Rating: NC 17
Word Count: ~700
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Warnings: Spanking (and crying? Should I warn for that idefk. CONSENSUAL TEARS, OKAY)
Summary: Eames makes Arthur come till he cries.
Arthur's trembling by the time Eames urges him up onto his hands and knees, gasping wetly into the pillow as Eames strokes down over his arse. He can't feel Arthur's skin properly through the leather gloves, can't read every little twitch and shiver, but he decided it was worth it somewhere between the sounds Arthur made when he fingered him and the feel of Arthur's mouth sucking him through the leather.
"Ready to beg?" Eames asks, sliding his fingers up through the come still dripping down Arthur's inner thigh from his last orgasm.
"No," Arthur says, muffled, spreading his knees further apart.
Eames leans down to kiss the bottom ridges of his spine. Arthur's come three times already, hand and fingers and tongue driving him closer and closer to breaking. Eames could fuck him now, he knows, and the fourth one would probably push Arthur to tears. Or...
He squeezes Arthur's arse just because he can. Or, he could try for five, because there's really nothing more gorgeous than seeing Arthur sobbing and broken and covered in come, and knowing Arthur loves it.
"Sure?" Eames asks, one more time.
By the time Arthur sucks in a breath to reply, Eames has already lifted his hand and brought it down hard on Arthur's arse.
"Fuck," Arthur chokes out, toes curling against Eames's calves.
Eames smooths his hand over the bright red mark. "Now?"
"No," Arthur snaps.
The leather protects Eames's hand from the sting and makes a satisfying thwack when it hits Arthur's skin. He can see the shape of his fingers in the red stains spreading across the pale curve of Arthur's arse, like a tag, like a footnote that says I am Eames and this is mine.
Arthur sobs on the third smack, fingers clawing the pillows. "For fuck's sake, hit me like you mean it if you're going to hit me."
Eames hesitates a second, because as gorgeous as Arthur is when he's letting Eames brutalise him, he never really wants to hurt him. But this is Arthur, and because it's Arthur asking, Eames does it.
The fourth blow rings loud even over the rough pant of Arthur’s breath. The arch of his spine seems impossible, a taut curve that quivers when Eames bends down to soothe some of the burn with his tongue. He drags his left hand across Arthur’s untouched cheek, so cool beside the angry heat, until those gloved fingers are dipping back inside Arthur. He’s still so wet and open, pliant, and pushes back against Eames’s hand as he slides two fingers in deep and easy. “All you have to do is say the words, Arthur,” Eames says, twisting his fingers just to hear Arthur make that wet sobbing sound again.
“Maybe... maybe I don’t want to.”
Eames smacks him again, hard as he can, and even the leather glove can’t stop the force from stinging his hand. He can feel Arthur clench around his fingers as the blow lands, so hot on the inside just like the hot red marks across his arse. “I love how stubborn you are.”
Arthur just groans in response, sliding his hand down to his own cock. He comes on the next smack, jerking like he’s been shocked and crying out into the pillow.
But Eames keeps fingering him, slow strokes, long and deep.
“Okay,” Arthur gasps, writhing. “Okay, okay, fucking stop.”
“I think I’m going to fuck you instead,” Eames says.
Arthur arches back onto his fingers, shaking, all the smooth muscle in his back heaving as he sobs.
“Okay?” Eames prompts, sliding his fingers out.
“Fucking do it then,” Arthur hisses, the sound even more sibilant through his tears. “Fuck me.”
Eames grabs his hips, hard, and does just that.
1. Watch this:
Click to viewThis came up in voxli today. I still think someone needs to write an Inception xover whereby Robert psychically controls the tire to get revenge on the team.
2. Read these:
a) Crime and Medicine by eleveninches aka the geek AU that isn't really an AU and is terribly awesome
b) Can't Get Enough Of You (Baby) by heyheyrenay aka the reason I will never write that kidfic, because this is THE canon kidfic for this ship. Seriously.
3. Somebody remind me after Re:BB is done to throw up the ZOMBOCALYPSE COMMENTFIC POST, okay? It's something else we were talking about on voxli yesterday and I am fucking doing it, because there can never be enough zombie killing, apocalypse surviving, guns and blood and bamfery.
4. Here is a repost of some commentfic I did a while back that I actually quite liked.
Title: Hit Me Like You Mean It
Rating: NC 17
Word Count: ~700
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Warnings: Spanking (and crying? Should I warn for that idefk. CONSENSUAL TEARS, OKAY)
Summary: Eames makes Arthur come till he cries.
Arthur's trembling by the time Eames urges him up onto his hands and knees, gasping wetly into the pillow as Eames strokes down over his arse. He can't feel Arthur's skin properly through the leather gloves, can't read every little twitch and shiver, but he decided it was worth it somewhere between the sounds Arthur made when he fingered him and the feel of Arthur's mouth sucking him through the leather.
"Ready to beg?" Eames asks, sliding his fingers up through the come still dripping down Arthur's inner thigh from his last orgasm.
"No," Arthur says, muffled, spreading his knees further apart.
Eames leans down to kiss the bottom ridges of his spine. Arthur's come three times already, hand and fingers and tongue driving him closer and closer to breaking. Eames could fuck him now, he knows, and the fourth one would probably push Arthur to tears. Or...
He squeezes Arthur's arse just because he can. Or, he could try for five, because there's really nothing more gorgeous than seeing Arthur sobbing and broken and covered in come, and knowing Arthur loves it.
"Sure?" Eames asks, one more time.
By the time Arthur sucks in a breath to reply, Eames has already lifted his hand and brought it down hard on Arthur's arse.
"Fuck," Arthur chokes out, toes curling against Eames's calves.
Eames smooths his hand over the bright red mark. "Now?"
"No," Arthur snaps.
The leather protects Eames's hand from the sting and makes a satisfying thwack when it hits Arthur's skin. He can see the shape of his fingers in the red stains spreading across the pale curve of Arthur's arse, like a tag, like a footnote that says I am Eames and this is mine.
Arthur sobs on the third smack, fingers clawing the pillows. "For fuck's sake, hit me like you mean it if you're going to hit me."
Eames hesitates a second, because as gorgeous as Arthur is when he's letting Eames brutalise him, he never really wants to hurt him. But this is Arthur, and because it's Arthur asking, Eames does it.
The fourth blow rings loud even over the rough pant of Arthur’s breath. The arch of his spine seems impossible, a taut curve that quivers when Eames bends down to soothe some of the burn with his tongue. He drags his left hand across Arthur’s untouched cheek, so cool beside the angry heat, until those gloved fingers are dipping back inside Arthur. He’s still so wet and open, pliant, and pushes back against Eames’s hand as he slides two fingers in deep and easy. “All you have to do is say the words, Arthur,” Eames says, twisting his fingers just to hear Arthur make that wet sobbing sound again.
“Maybe... maybe I don’t want to.”
Eames smacks him again, hard as he can, and even the leather glove can’t stop the force from stinging his hand. He can feel Arthur clench around his fingers as the blow lands, so hot on the inside just like the hot red marks across his arse. “I love how stubborn you are.”
Arthur just groans in response, sliding his hand down to his own cock. He comes on the next smack, jerking like he’s been shocked and crying out into the pillow.
But Eames keeps fingering him, slow strokes, long and deep.
“Okay,” Arthur gasps, writhing. “Okay, okay, fucking stop.”
“I think I’m going to fuck you instead,” Eames says.
Arthur arches back onto his fingers, shaking, all the smooth muscle in his back heaving as he sobs.
“Okay?” Eames prompts, sliding his fingers out.
“Fucking do it then,” Arthur hisses, the sound even more sibilant through his tears. “Fuck me.”
Eames grabs his hips, hard, and does just that.