Aaaand here we go!

[inception_kink]

INCEPTION KINK MEME

(I'm excited. Are you excited?)

Rules are simple!


• Most importantly: be civil and respectful to each other. There will be no abuse, no condemning of kinks, none of that 'shaming' crap. That is absolutely unacceptable, and I will watch for that. (If I miss something, PM as soon as you see.)



• Anonymously post whatever configuration of characters (or characters and inanimate objects, etc) as you like, coupled with a kink. THIS IS IMPORTANT. I don't want to be a jerk and start laying down the law on the specificity of people's kinks, but this is not a pairing meme, or a fic meme. There are plenty of those out there, and all power to them!
  
  Correct example - Mal/Ariadne, finger-fucking Ariadne on the window ledge.
  Incorrect example - Ariadne/Arthur, four seasons.
  
  I can be flexible! But there should be pervertible quality close to the surface. Requesting 'character A is a vampire' AU would work, because there are about half a dozen kinks potentially wrapped up right there: bloodplay, rough sex, dubcon, mind control, etc. Just try?



• Try to give and take to keep the meme alive. But don't feel bad about it.



• Enjoy yourself



• Go forth and inspire kinkiness!

Comments

[richmodis]

This account has disabled anonymous posting.

You should change the setting.

Fixed now!

[inception_kink]

Yeah, I went to bed early last night and practically my first thought this morning was - OHSHIT, DID I FORGET - ? Which, of course, I had. Thank you so much for pointing it out!

Cobb/Fischer, blindfold

[(Anonymous)]

Cobb/Fischer, blindfold - Fischer being the one blindfolded, please

Saito/Fisher - bondage

[(Anonymous)]

Saito is a master in the art of kinbaku. Robert really enjoys it.

[(Anonymous)]

Ariadne/Yusuf, body part fetish

Ariadne's erotically fixated on Yusuf's hair, especially tickling against her thighs.

the kink part of this kind of fails, sorry. someone give a better fill!

[(Anonymous)]

She saw him by the baggage claim and it was a sight for sore eyes; his rumpled jacket, broad shoulder and crown of dark, messy curls. He wasn't carrying a sign, but he grinned when he saw her, and Ariadne lengthened her stride into an unsteady lope.

"Hey," she said.

It had been too long. It startled her to realize that the smell of him was familiar; the spice of the street vendors' food, the paper and leather of his books, the faint astringent bite of chemicals. She fell in beside him as he turned, shaking her head at his wordless offer to take her bags.

"So," she said. "Business been well?"

His low, warm chuckle rolled through them both where her arm was pressed to his. "Quite well," he said. "As you should know."

"Hey, for all I know we're saving you from certain poverty," Ariadne said easily, though she flashed him a grin that said better than words that she doubted it. Working with Yusuf had been a pleasure. He'd kept up easily when their heads were bent together over crumpled sheets of paper or geometrical models and Ariadne was trying to translate her ideas into layman's speak - and from that, communicate exactly what they'd need from the dosage.

"Not quite," Yusuf said dryly, and gestured to a car sitting at the curb.

Ariadne slid in, dropping her duffel at her feet. "Rented?" she asked as he slid into the driver's seat, and his look became even drier.

"Arthur," he said.

Covering all angles, as usual. Ariadne looked at Yusuf's expression of faint exasperation and grinned. "Is he even in the city yet?" Ariadne asked.

"No," he said.

"Water bottle?" Ariadne asked, diverting the topic, and Yusuf agreeably followed.



Arthur was delayed on the flight that would be bringing him and his recruits to them - something about a storm in Dallas, or possibly federal agents, he sounded preoccupied and Ariadne left him to it. Instead they got takeout and clustered around the table, Yusuf propping his elbow on its surface to keep Ariadne's drawings from scattering in the light breeze blowing in through the window's open shutters.

"It's not for a job or anything," Ariadne said, tracing the line of a window with one finger. "And I'm being careful about spending too long under..." She glanced up at Yusuf's face, but he only looked amused, eyes hooded briefly as he followed the movement of her hand. A thin layer of sweat gleamed damply at his hairline and temples, and she drew in a breath and looked back at the idly sketched perpendicular angles of her pencil-lines. "But..."

"It's beautiful," he said with a one-shouldered shrug. "There are people who would pay for you to create things like this for them in their dreams."

"Yeah, well." Ariadne shuffled the papers together, her lips curving in a rueful smile. "I'm still trying to graduate, remember?"

Yusuf leaned back in his chair, canting his head at her and spreading an eloquent hand. "And what is this?"

"Internship," Ariadne said sweetly, and his laughter was contagious.


"Here - " she reached for the dusting of sugar that had struck one warm, rounded cheekbone and caught in his hair, and it stopped her all at once. The feeling of her thumb brushing his skin, her short-cut nails curling into his hair. His lashes swept down and his eyes, liquidly-dark, cut to the side, inquiring and careful all at once.

Ariadne had worked more than a few jobs in her life, and no coworkers had always been a solid if unspoken rule. In the business of crime, that should probably be taken even more seriously.

"Sorry," she said, the word dropping awkwardly into the silence.

Yusuf shrugged one shoulder, his easy smile reappearing. "Don't wor - "

Ariadne changed her mind before he'd gotten two syllables in. He was taller than her, but Ariadne had had to learn to adapt to that a long time ago, and he didn't stagger when she braced herself against his chest, fingers tugging lightly on his vest and arched up onto her toes. Her sneakers squeaked against the cheap linoleum and Yusuf caught her, his arm braced against the curve of her back.

He looked startled when she pulled back enough to gauge his expression, but his lips were parted and gleaming, and there was no worry or revulsion in his face.

Ariadne felt herself go a little red anyway.

"So we have, like, eight hours to kill," she said, acutely aware of her breasts pressed to his chest, the warm weight of his hand slipping to the small of her back.

Yusuf's lips twitched. "Is this what Americans call a come-on?" he asked.

Ariadne narrowed her eyes at him. "Well, if you think you're so smooth," she began, and Yusuf said swiftly, "I am not complaining."

"Good," she said, and her fingers curved around the back of his neck. His hair brushed the backs of her fingers, a softly curling mass, and she sucked in a shallow breath. "Because I could always just spend the time reviewing background."

Yusuf reached out and turned the stove off.



Whatever jokes he had to make about Americans or romantic approaches in general, he could. He should feel free. Because curled up in the bed under the slanting eaves, the sheets strewn around and tangled up in her sweat damp limbs, Yusuf pushed her thighs apart and licked between slick labia, and he knew exactly what he was doing.

Not only was he good at it, but he listened to her - it had taken her six weeks to train her last boyfriend to be any good at taking instructions in bed, but any time she shifted her hips or hissed between her teeth Yusuf seemed to know what cue to follow; harder pressure against her clit with the flat of his tongue, pushing a finger inside of her, stretching her open.

Ariadne hated to have her hair pulled during a blowjob, so she tried not to return the favour, but her hands were definitely knotted in his hair, twisting in the curls. She dug her heels into his back and one big hand cupped her hip, coaxing her up - and giving her exactly what she hadn't even realized she'd been asking for.

Ariadne made a thin, drawn-out noise in her throat, dimly hoping the neighbors weren't listening, his mouth spreading her open and two fingers curling inside of her now. It had been three months and that dry period was crashing, now, she was so hyper-aware of every move he made - the brush of air over her sweaty skin, the coarse tickle of his hair on the inner crease of her thigh, his blunt fingertips scraping against her - that she felt like she was about to fly apart with one more stroke.

He hummed against her, shifting his shoulder beneath her thigh and changing the angle, and her body obliged.

Ariadne collapsed back onto the bed and he uncoiled against her for a second, his head laid on her pelvis and curls brushing her skin. "Better than background checks?" he asked, voice a little hoarse, and Ariadne giggled stupidly and put her hands over her face.

Then she coughed and said, "safe to say."

She was opening her eyes as he looked up at her, and then she was reaching for him, her hand dragging down warm skin, the broad arch over his ribs, to the smooth cant of his hipbones and lower down, the hard straining heat of his erection.

"I bet I can top the dessert we missed," she said, and rolled him over.

Eames/Yusuf, drugged sex

[(Anonymous)]

Eames/Yusuf, drugged sex

Yusuf makes drugs for him and/or Eames to use during sex. Could be as simple as amyl nitrite or as complex as LSD.

Arthur/Saito, first time

[(Anonymous)]

Arthur/Saito, first time

One or both has never had sex with a man before. Both are uptight about it, but anything can happen in dreams.

Ariadne/Saito, medical kink

[(Anonymous)]

Ariadne/Saito, medical kink

The medical aspects of PASIV paraphernalia are a turn-on for one or both.

Arthur/Eames, verbal humiliation

[(Anonymous)]

Arthur's embarrassed by all the little endearments Eames uses, but the embarrassment makes him hot.

Arthur/Eames, painplay, body alteration, injury

[(Anonymous)]

You can feel pain in dreams. It lets Arthur and Eames take painplay further than it would be safe to take it in real life, maybe even as far as amputation.

Arthur/Eames, chastity device

[(Anonymous)]

Arthur's jealous and possessive. Eames likes it and encourages it, teasing him about it until Arthur puts a chastity device on him, which they both like even more than they expect.

Anyone/Eames, gags, oral fixation

[(Anonymous)]

Eames' partner wants to stuff things in his mouth: ball gags, ring gags, dildos, other objects...

Ariadne/Arthur, foot/shoe fetish

[(Anonymous)]

Arthur likes Ariadne's new shoes.

Re: Ariadne/Arthur, foot/shoe fetish

[(Anonymous)]

His hand touched her ankle while he was preparing to hook her up.

It was a light brush, easy to dismiss as accidental, but it lingered, and when she looked down he was studying the glossy red of her shoes.

They were medium heels; Ariadne walked all over campus, up and down sets of stairs and along sometimes pretty sharp slopes and she had no desire to break an ankle. They were, in fact, shoes her roommate had denounced as too small and relegated to Ariadne's closet.

Ariadne opened her mouth, studied the look on his face and closed it over the brief, dismissive explanation. "You like them?"

Arthur looked up at her. She wasn't quite sure how to read his expression, but a smile lingered around the corners of his mouth and eyes, and the touch firmed, thumb stroking along the soft hollow behind her ankle. "Yes," he said.

"Not really my usual style," she said, making no move to shake him off.

The faint smile strengthened. "I'll enjoy the discrepancy while it lasts, then," he said, and when he rocked forward on his heels to reach for her arm, his hand swept, feather-light, up the inside of her leg. The very lightness of the touch seemed to bring her skin alive with sensitivity.

She was smiling when she dropped under.



She slid a thumb under the strap of her bag, watching the line of his back. The one lamp on the table cast a pool of light that laid in stark contrast to the murky darkness of most of the warehouse; almost everyone else had retreated to hotel rooms or maybe restaurants - they didn't ask a lot of questions of life outside of the warehouse. It seemed to be de rigueur for them; considering their profession and the risks involved, she wasn't surprised.

Arthur looked up when she approached, rising from his chair, and the smile returned, softening the lines of his face. "You're here late."

"So are you," she pointed out, swinging her bag to the ground.

"There's work to do." He swept a hand out over the papers. "This isn't the kind of job where we can afford to cut corners."

"No," she agreed, nudging papers toward her. Correspondences; the building blocks of putting together Robert Fischer's background, it looked like. Ariadne frowned absently down at them. "You really think this thing is going to stay neat?"

"Jobs," Arthur said dryly, "rarely do." He picked up and began sorting the papers into stacks, replacing a haphazard pile of paper clips to divide them. His hands were deft, agile and very quick. "Preparation can make a difference, but in the end..." He tossed the last stack back onto the desk. "Inevitably, you have to improvise."

"And the maze - " Ariadne frowned.

"No one can account for every possibility," Arthur said dismissively. "Just like every job, you have to learn how to compensate for setbacks." A smile flared. "And Cobb was right - you do pick it up faster than anyone I've met."

All at once Ariadne remembered why she'd lingered. She returned the smile, scooting up on the edge of the desk. "I appreciate it," she said honestly. "Because if I didn't - well, I wouldn't be here, would I?"

"Oh, I don't know. We could have made do with just 'brilliant' instead of 'prodigy.' It's what the rest of us have to contend with, after all." Sounding amused, he sank into his chair. Ariadne weighed options - was it a dismissal? An invitation? A -

He pushed it closer and his fingers, chilled, curled around the back of her calf. Ariadne shivered, but it wasn't unpleasant.

"And that's..." Where had her train of thought gone? Somewhere he could track, judging by the tilt of his eyebrows. "That would be a tragedy," she finished, and then, because if Ariadne believed in anything it was going for it with gusto, she planted her heel on the seat between his legs and pulled it all the way up the desk.

His fingers slid to linger in the hollow behind her knee, deftly riding the line between ticklish and sensitive. "Very nice," he said softly as his other hand cupped her ankle, thumb rubbing over the strap - also red, also glossy.

"I thought so," she said. "Added bonus: haven't fallen on my ass yet. Really can't handle stilettos," she added, and he was laughing softly as she bent to kiss him and his hand pushed up into the warmth under her skirt.

She grabbed for his shoulders, a sudden convulsive movement that curled her fingers in the expensive fabric, and the sound she made practically echoed around them, even muffled by his mouth.

He thumbed her clit through the fabric, shifting it to the side to test her with his fingers - his long fingers - and found her wet. So sue her; she'd let her mind linger over pleasant fantasies while she waited for the warehouse to empty, making small adjustments to the design to tide her over until she could talk to one of the dreamers about running it the latest time. He didn't seem to be complaining; his shoulders tensed and shifted and his fingers slid inside of her. Ariadne hissed and he sucked her lower lip into her mouth and bit, making her hips jerk against his hand.

She'd closed her eyes, though she couldn't remember when, and she opened them now. "You're - " Her voice broke off. She gritted her teeth, scrabbling for coherent thought, and then panted, "desk? Really?"

"Problem?" He asked - murmured, really - mildly against the flushed dampness of her lips.

"It's - " Ariadne choked on a whimper as his fingers slid deeper, his thumb resettling and sending a jolt of liquid heat up to coil around the base of her spine. "No," she said, and kissed him again, messy and urgent as she pulled him closer.

In one smooth motion, he'd half-risen and kicked the chair back. For a brief second he was bending over her and she was arching back, the weight of his body leaning against her, and then he was on his knees again, and his hands were still, and she wasn't sure if she was grateful for the moment of relatively clear thinking or wanting to cuss him out.

Like some bizarre form of knight-errant, he cupped her heel in his hand and kissed the knob of her anklebone. Ariadne found her hands restless, finally resettled them gripping the edges of the desk tightly.

The next kiss was higher up, lingering over the front of her leg, the third on the side of her knee, his tongue darting out, and Ariadne had never considered herself to have a fetish, per se, but she suspected she was about to develop one.

By the time he was up to her inner thigh, Ariadne was gasping and moving her hips. He shoved her skirt up - she steadied herself with her grip on the desk and lifted to facilitate the effort - and then he settled his mouth on her, licking around his fingers and settling the heat and wet of his mouth to suckle at her clit.

Ariadne grabbed for his hair, forced herself to release him, and sank her teeth into her lower lip to swallow a sound way louder than she wanted to make in an open space like this. Coherent thought process fractured as he delicately spread her with his knuckles, his tongue moving in long strokes. The fingers of his other hand still curled around her ankle, holding her open for him, and - well, it had been a long time, and she'd been turned on already, and she came, shuddering and clenching, on a low, hitching moan.

She didn't fallen over onto the stacks of papers. Ariadne was pretty proud of that, since her limbs had pretty much jellied. Instead she blinked down at him as Arthur sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth fastidiously, a glitter of unmistakable satisfaction in his eyes.

And he was still cradling her foot.

Ariadne reached for his collar, dragging him up to meet her, but even as she flicked free the first button, she was thinking a shopping trip sounded like a good idea.

Anyone/Cobb, celibacy

[(Anonymous)]

Dom hasn't been with anyone since Mal. It's hard to reach out again.

Saito/Yusuf, authority figures

[(Anonymous)]

Yusuf's turned on by having sex with the boss.

Cobb/Eames, emotional manipulation, roleplay

[(Anonymous)]

Eames can be Mal for Cobb. (It doesn't have to go well.)

Cobb/Eames, stubble

[(Anonymous)]

They rub their slightly hairy faces all over each other's bodies.

Fischer/Saito Daddy Kink

[(Anonymous)]

Fishcer/Saito - daddy kink: I want to see this developing between them. Fischer starts trusting Saito, starts being physically attracted to him, starts sleeping with him and then one day it just slips out. And maybe Saito is conflicted/slightly squicked but he adores Fischer at this point so he goes with it.

Eames/Arthur hotel kink.

[(Anonymous)]

(I had to, given the example)

Eames/Arthur: Eames gets off on fucking Arthur in expensive hotels. The fancier the room, the dirtier he wants to make Arthur be.

Saito/Fischer, business suits

[(Anonymous)]

Saito/Fischer, business suits - they look good enough to eat in their suits, so I'd love some suit-porn, half-clothed during a business meeting or something like that.

Any team/Fischer - Mind Games

[(Anonymous)]

Any of the team/Fischer - You don't get more intimate than being in someone's mind. Maybe one of them becomes obsessed with him, maybe he becomes obsessed with one of them. Bonus points if they meet in the real world.

Arthur/Ariadne - Dress up

[(Anonymous)]

Arthur/Ariadne - She asks for his help picking nice clothes. One (or both!) of them likes it more than expected.

Saito/Cobb, orgasm denial

[(Anonymous)]

Saito/Cobb, orgasm denial - Saito likes to savour the feeling of being young again

Mr. Charles/Fischer, handcuffs

[(Anonymous)]

Mr. Charles/Fischer, handcuffs - all Fischer wants is feeling safe and secure. Mr. Charles takes charge.

Everyone/Eames - genderplay, size kink, ageplay, etc

[(Anonymous)]

Everyone/Eames - Using different roles/bodies to express different parts of himself. (Could be genderplay, size kink, ageplay.)

Yusuf/Anyone, science

[(Anonymous)]

Whether it centers around made-up science or actual science, I'd just love Yusuf being a badass at what he does and someone jumping his bones for it. Possibly with dirty talk.