Fic: A Promise Made
Title: A Promise Made
Author: zeto
Characters/Pairing: Arthur/Eames, OC/Arthur
Warning: NC-17! Non-con!
Word Count: 1K+
Disclaimer: Inception is Christopher Nolan's amazing creation. I don't own these characters.
Summary: God. @_@ I...have no words for this. It's a two-for-one fill from inception_kink. Found here and here. *goes into hiding*
Arthur's nails dig into the leather couch as the older, heavy set man pushes his large, hard cock inside of him. He's biting down on his lower lip, hard enough for the taste of familiar copper to bloom on his tongue.
The blond, their mark, a man by the name of Dean Preston, grunts lowly as he grips Arthur's hips and fucks into him. “You're so tight, you little slut. I bet you're loving this.”
Shutting his eyes, Arthur wills himself to calm down, to take slow deep breaths. He's not here. He's not here. He's not braced against the loveseat in the back room of a high-end lounge. This isn't happening. It's not--it's not--
He can't stop the small gasp though, eyes flying open, when Preston suddenly slams his length all the way in without warning.
“That's right. Take it all,” he groans as be bottoms out.
Arthur bites back a little whimper, presses his head down and wills it to be over as fast as possible, doing his best to ignore the pain. He's certain Eames is watching, helpless, in the dark. Watching Arthur, naked from the waist down, being forced to fuck and pretending to like it.
They hadn't meant to let it get this far. Something had gone wrong. The sedative in the drink; maybe it hadn't been strong enough. But Arthur had had Yusuf concoct the drug, added it in himself and taken the drinks, a couple of Scotch on the Rocks to the table. Or maybe the mark hadn't taken a sip.
No. No, Arthur had watched him take a drink from his tumbler. A dim part of his mind recalled what Yusuf had said though. The bigger the target, the longer it would take for the drug to take effect. Yusuf had recommended he take a full dosage with him but Arthur hadn't been able to conceal the full amount on his person. And Preston is no waif by any means.
“You're real tight. I can see the way your hole is just eating up my cock,” the mark groans as he pulls out and shoves back in with hard, relentless thrusts. “You're loving this, aren't you?”
Arthur bites his tongue and wishes with every fibre that he didn't have to answer but he has to make it believable. “Y-Yes,” he breathes, putting a tiny little whimper into it. “I've...I've never had anyone as big as you. Oh god...”
The words send a shudder straight through Preston as he slams into Arthur, over and over. His hands caress Arthur's pale hips, his thighs, before pulling up his shirt.
Pretend it's Eames, Arthur tells himself. Pretends that's Eames' hand touching you, caressing you.
A large, warm hand takes a hold of his cock, stroking and fondling roughly, almost in time with the thrusts, spreading the come leaking from the weeping tip. Preston admires the way his pale legs are contrasted, spread across the dark burgundy leather, his shirt crumpled and soiled as he's being ruthlessly taken.
Arthur breathes back a sigh of relief when the older man pulls out completely. His relief however, is short lived when he feels a finger exploring his hole. It teases for a moment, ghosting over the winking entrance before it slips in with ease, aided by Arthur's come. Preston adds another finger and then a third and roughly finger fucks the brunet, fingers twisting inside of him, stretching him wide open, as his other hand jerking him off with practised smooth strokes.
“Fuck,” Arthur gasps sharply, trying to jerk away from the brutal treatment he's receiving. “Oh fuck--oh please, I can't-nngh, please...”
“That's right. Beg me for more,” Preston purrs into his ear before he licks the delicate rim and bites down. Hard.
His ass clenches around the digits and Preston replaces them with his cock again. Arthur swears up a storm, enough to make a sailor blush, when the blond shoves his dick back in.
“Too bad we don't have a mirror in here,” pants the older man. “I bet you're all-all needy and wanton, spread out for me like the whore you are. I wish I could see your face.”
“But I-I like this an-angle,” Arthur chokes out. “I can feel you so deep inside me, s-sir. I bet...I bet I'll feel it for days.”
It is probably the 'sir' that sends the other man over the edge. Arthur feels him jerk against his backside, making the couch creak and shudder as Preston gasps and climaxes, eyes rolling back as his whole world goes black.
The blond man slumps over and crushes Arthur into the couch.
Weakly, the Point Man attempts to shove him off but his arms are like jelly, all wobbly and frail. Instead, Eames is suddenly, there, yanking their giant brick of a mark away. He drops the blond to the carpet and kicks him hard in the ribs.
“Eames! No!” Arthur shouts, grabbing his arm and missing. He crashes to the floor instead.
In an instant, Eames is at his side, helping him up. “Darling, darling. Oh god, I am so, so sorry.”
“No, I-I'm all right. It was my fault. I thought we could do with a half dose. Just...give me a minute,” he drinks in huge breaths of air like a drowning man. “We have to keep going. He's out now. Get the PASIV.”
“Keep going--are you insane?” Eames clutches his shoulders and shakes him, hard.
Arthur grabs Eames' wrists tightly, cutting off his circulation. “Do. Not. Quit. Now. Don't let this have all been for naught. Do you hear me? We keep going. Finish the job.”
Eames' face is white. Absolutely colourless. He presses his lips together and jerks out of Arthur's grip before he turns away and stalks over to the nearest wall, pounding it with his fist. “Fuck!” He hits it again for good measure. It doesn't make him feel any better though the pain seems to calm him down a little.
“Eames,” Arthur whispers. “Please.”
The Forger shuts his eyes as a shudder wracks his body. It feels like an eternity passes before he speaks again. “Get your clothes on. I'll get the PASIV.”
Within a couple of minutes, Preston, Arthur and Eames are all hooked up. Just before Eames presses the injection activation trigger, he catches Arthur's eyes and holds his gaze.
“After this job, I will end him,” Eames promises with dead calm, eyes cold and dark with fury.
Arthur only watches him for a few moments before he nods. Once.
END
Feedback: ...Uhm...yes please? *blushes*
Author: zeto
Characters/Pairing: Arthur/Eames, OC/Arthur
Warning: NC-17! Non-con!
Word Count: 1K+
Disclaimer: Inception is Christopher Nolan's amazing creation. I don't own these characters.
Summary: God. @_@ I...have no words for this. It's a two-for-one fill from inception_kink. Found here and here. *goes into hiding*
Arthur's nails dig into the leather couch as the older, heavy set man pushes his large, hard cock inside of him. He's biting down on his lower lip, hard enough for the taste of familiar copper to bloom on his tongue.
The blond, their mark, a man by the name of Dean Preston, grunts lowly as he grips Arthur's hips and fucks into him. “You're so tight, you little slut. I bet you're loving this.”
Shutting his eyes, Arthur wills himself to calm down, to take slow deep breaths. He's not here. He's not here. He's not braced against the loveseat in the back room of a high-end lounge. This isn't happening. It's not--it's not--
He can't stop the small gasp though, eyes flying open, when Preston suddenly slams his length all the way in without warning.
“That's right. Take it all,” he groans as be bottoms out.
Arthur bites back a little whimper, presses his head down and wills it to be over as fast as possible, doing his best to ignore the pain. He's certain Eames is watching, helpless, in the dark. Watching Arthur, naked from the waist down, being forced to fuck and pretending to like it.
They hadn't meant to let it get this far. Something had gone wrong. The sedative in the drink; maybe it hadn't been strong enough. But Arthur had had Yusuf concoct the drug, added it in himself and taken the drinks, a couple of Scotch on the Rocks to the table. Or maybe the mark hadn't taken a sip.
No. No, Arthur had watched him take a drink from his tumbler. A dim part of his mind recalled what Yusuf had said though. The bigger the target, the longer it would take for the drug to take effect. Yusuf had recommended he take a full dosage with him but Arthur hadn't been able to conceal the full amount on his person. And Preston is no waif by any means.
“You're real tight. I can see the way your hole is just eating up my cock,” the mark groans as he pulls out and shoves back in with hard, relentless thrusts. “You're loving this, aren't you?”
Arthur bites his tongue and wishes with every fibre that he didn't have to answer but he has to make it believable. “Y-Yes,” he breathes, putting a tiny little whimper into it. “I've...I've never had anyone as big as you. Oh god...”
The words send a shudder straight through Preston as he slams into Arthur, over and over. His hands caress Arthur's pale hips, his thighs, before pulling up his shirt.
Pretend it's Eames, Arthur tells himself. Pretends that's Eames' hand touching you, caressing you.
A large, warm hand takes a hold of his cock, stroking and fondling roughly, almost in time with the thrusts, spreading the come leaking from the weeping tip. Preston admires the way his pale legs are contrasted, spread across the dark burgundy leather, his shirt crumpled and soiled as he's being ruthlessly taken.
Arthur breathes back a sigh of relief when the older man pulls out completely. His relief however, is short lived when he feels a finger exploring his hole. It teases for a moment, ghosting over the winking entrance before it slips in with ease, aided by Arthur's come. Preston adds another finger and then a third and roughly finger fucks the brunet, fingers twisting inside of him, stretching him wide open, as his other hand jerking him off with practised smooth strokes.
“Fuck,” Arthur gasps sharply, trying to jerk away from the brutal treatment he's receiving. “Oh fuck--oh please, I can't-nngh, please...”
“That's right. Beg me for more,” Preston purrs into his ear before he licks the delicate rim and bites down. Hard.
His ass clenches around the digits and Preston replaces them with his cock again. Arthur swears up a storm, enough to make a sailor blush, when the blond shoves his dick back in.
“Too bad we don't have a mirror in here,” pants the older man. “I bet you're all-all needy and wanton, spread out for me like the whore you are. I wish I could see your face.”
“But I-I like this an-angle,” Arthur chokes out. “I can feel you so deep inside me, s-sir. I bet...I bet I'll feel it for days.”
It is probably the 'sir' that sends the other man over the edge. Arthur feels him jerk against his backside, making the couch creak and shudder as Preston gasps and climaxes, eyes rolling back as his whole world goes black.
The blond man slumps over and crushes Arthur into the couch.
Weakly, the Point Man attempts to shove him off but his arms are like jelly, all wobbly and frail. Instead, Eames is suddenly, there, yanking their giant brick of a mark away. He drops the blond to the carpet and kicks him hard in the ribs.
“Eames! No!” Arthur shouts, grabbing his arm and missing. He crashes to the floor instead.
In an instant, Eames is at his side, helping him up. “Darling, darling. Oh god, I am so, so sorry.”
“No, I-I'm all right. It was my fault. I thought we could do with a half dose. Just...give me a minute,” he drinks in huge breaths of air like a drowning man. “We have to keep going. He's out now. Get the PASIV.”
“Keep going--are you insane?” Eames clutches his shoulders and shakes him, hard.
Arthur grabs Eames' wrists tightly, cutting off his circulation. “Do. Not. Quit. Now. Don't let this have all been for naught. Do you hear me? We keep going. Finish the job.”
Eames' face is white. Absolutely colourless. He presses his lips together and jerks out of Arthur's grip before he turns away and stalks over to the nearest wall, pounding it with his fist. “Fuck!” He hits it again for good measure. It doesn't make him feel any better though the pain seems to calm him down a little.
“Eames,” Arthur whispers. “Please.”
The Forger shuts his eyes as a shudder wracks his body. It feels like an eternity passes before he speaks again. “Get your clothes on. I'll get the PASIV.”
Within a couple of minutes, Preston, Arthur and Eames are all hooked up. Just before Eames presses the injection activation trigger, he catches Arthur's eyes and holds his gaze.
“After this job, I will end him,” Eames promises with dead calm, eyes cold and dark with fury.
Arthur only watches him for a few moments before he nods. Once.
END
Feedback: ...Uhm...yes please? *blushes*