#eames and robert

[icywinterrose94-blog]

[icywinterrose94-blog]

To all Robert/Eames shippers/lovers out there, I highly recommend that you read this fanfiction! Not only is it extremely well written and descriptive, it catches a side of Robert and Eames that is very moving! Highly recommended!!!

[adamj-branch-blog]

Cillian Murphy FC please. IF someone were to take it, I would cry. I would make one. Idek. Just please. They can be bffs for liiiifeee.

This has been an ooc post.

[azuremew]

Rec some music to me, darlings . . .

Help! My brain isn't cooperating, and I should be working on my Big Bangs (s). So recommend some music to me, darlings. Ambient & rock are usually my preferred tastes, but I vary as random as my posts, lol. Plus, I really don't know what I should be listening to exactly while writing E/R - I've basically burned through most of my previous choices. Certainly not the soundtrack to "Contagion" that's presently on.

[azuremew]

Ahhhhhh - so, this is my first E/R post. From the kink meme: Robert is intensely masochistic in bed, to the point of lasting injury. Whatever guy he's with (preferably Eames or Arthur, but I'd be fine with anyone) is unnerved by this and shows him that gentler sex can be fun too.

Eames knew the man flirting with him at the bar was Robert Fischer. He had gotten thinner, paler, almost sickly, but there was no doubt to those eyes and cheekbones. They spoke, at first, in polite conversation. The former heir was babbling about the crumpled mess that was his father's empire. “It's all my fault,” he said, swirling his glass before taking another long hard gulp. “And now there is nothing left.”The initiation was Fischer's doing. Like a stranger needing someone to talk to, he sat and ordered a drink. Eames should have moved then, taken his drink elsewhere. He had just finished one of his jobs that led him back to Los Angeles, nearly forgetting the whole inception ordeal. But seeing Fischer there formed a knot in his stomach, bringing reality to the illusion that he could simply forget what the team did. Work could only take him so far, so he tried another way to assuage the guilt. His hand stretched out to Fischer's, whom grasped it in trembling, white-knuckled grip. They went to one of the many hotels Fischer stays at, to the suite he has brought other brunette males to with a strong build, comfortable clothes, rich skin and a five-o'clock shadow. Their lips touched in the elevator, Eames' hands finding their way around Fischer's waist and beneath his crisp, dark blue shirt. It was there, upon the arch of his back, that he found the first telling of Fischer's intention. Raised skin from another night, swollen still and hot upon contact. Fischer writhes from the accidental touch, his hands darting to wrap around the other's and keep him pulling away. By the time they reached the room, both collars are undone, and Eames found more reservation. There were bruises along Fischer's shoulders, partially healed but still holding the black signs of being deep, painful wounds. As the shirt fell to the ground, there was a shudder, and Eames searched backward to the hallway light Fischer turned on. He was stopped, forced to bear witness to what he helped create. There were dark circles from lit cigarettes and scores of deep scratches that left scars long after the discoloration and swelling. Some of them looked new, as soon as the night before, or a few hours, while others were from years, even decades, ago. But what caught his eyes the most were the ones along his wrist. Those were not from foreplay.

Fischer pulled them closer again, sliding his hands around like Eames had before moving beneath his slacks. Like all the men before, he needed some encouragement to continue, so Fischer cupped his balls while stroking him into attention. The sensation made Eames' eyes close, to enjoy the moment, and again he was able to let go of the image before him. His hands swept toward Fischer's belt, to be fucked and finished, but the motion stopped, Fischer's hands moving to grab his again. “No,” he said, looking up at Eames with pleading eyes. His hands guided Eames to the small of his back again. “Hold me tightly. Use me.” “I can't,” Eames said in a quiet, reserved voice. Angry, Fischer reacted, surprising the older man further. He let go of Eames' hands and grabbed him around the neck, just below the jaw. It set off a choking sound and then harsh breaths. “Why not?” he asked. “You've done it before. First, you kidnapped me, and then you violated me. This should be a walk in the park to what you did.” Eames' eyes widened either from asphyxiation or shock, and Fischer took it as the latter. His hand fell away, and he stumbled back, his ankles hitting the edge of the bed. “It's you, isn't it?” he whispered in a hollow voice. “The man in my dreams.” Eames rubbed his throat, deciding to nod rather than test his voice.

“They all think it's a game . . .” Fischer added, but the images flashed in his mind, trained to well to not only defend but recall. The face was so strong, so beautiful. If there weren't others in the cab, if he knew it was a dream, the man sitting next to him with that smirk could have taken more than his $500 wallet. Eames did, in fact. His very being was robbed, raped until what he knew was really him and what wasn't blurred. It all spun until he sliced his finger with a letter opener. The sharp pain reminded him that he was not dreaming, and the board meeting with that visitor told him Eames was more than a projection. He was real, but as he approached, Fischer did not fly forward in rage. When his eyes opened in that snow fortress, forced out of limbo, he saw Eames first, watching him, seeing him to the end. “You'll get me through this?” he pleaded, looking up with tears streaking down his cheeks. Eames did not say anything but instead leaned in and kissed those tears, continuing to his lips. His hands pressed along Fischer's collarbone to lay him back, but it was gentler than any of the others. Fischer lied back willingly, feeling the kisses light against his neck and down his chest as his belt was unbuckled and the last of his clothes were removed. He moaned for the first time in ages without tightening his jaw first, his hips rising upward to beg for more until he spilled. Eames moved back up, not finished yet, kissing the skin along the way although he felt a revulsion cringe at the raised marks. His fingers, slicked with the wet, sticky remnants of the first time, continued to trail down to the slit. He pressed two fingers gently, not forcing his way in as he imagined the others had, and felt the body respond with just as much approval, if not more. A faint smile crept along his lips before they kissed again. There was not any need for preparation on Eames' part. In some ways, he had wanted this as long as Fischer had, and hearing those sounds, pure and lovely, was more than enough of a turn on. When he had stretched the smaller frame enough, he bent low and pushed, finding a rhythm that was slow for them both to savor and remember.

[azuremew]

Do you fondue?

E/R Elevator Prompt

the_azure_blue:    so, hrm, silly question but blowjob or wall-fucking? forgerness:    why is that silly thewintercynic:    oh my god no contest thewintercynic:    both forgerness:    OH YES the_azure_blue:    lmao, fine. i'm guessing robert has a penthouse so at some point, the elevator stops, but they don't the_azure_blue:    they might even fall into the foyer and continue getting on with it. forgerness:    that is something I want to quote over and over "At some point the elevator stops, but they don't" forgerness:    LOLOLOL thewintercynic:    ahahaha thewintercynic:    yesss the_azure_blue:    yeah, yeah, i'll add it to the writing thewintercynic:    that is magnificent show-no-tell

Which led to the fondue prompt

the_azure_blue:    y'know, robert could have a mustashe from hot chocolate ;) thewintercynic:    ohhhh thewintercynic:    that would be cute the_azure_blue:    or fondue. were they eating fondue on the plane? forgerness:   yummy oh god the_azure_bue:   strangely fluffy all things considered thewintercynic:    Hahaha, flashbacks to Captain America thewintercynic:    Okay forgerness:  fluffy is good julie thewintercynic:    Eames as Captain America, Robert as Peggy forgerness:    lmao, i didn't even think about that thewintercynic:    Yusuf as Mr. Stark? (forgot his first name) thewintercynic:    *goes to make this a prompt*

(This is in my Big Bang - the elevator and fondue on a plan; not Capt. America, sadly.)

And don't forget the dream-shattering errection

the_azure_blue:    i'm gonna go back to admiring eames groping unconscious!robert forgerness:    I bet that had to reshoot that part a million times the_azure_blue:    cause that is so canon! it's on film. forgerness:    I knowww forgerness:    but I bet tom kept trying to make it NC-17 and nolan was "NO THIS MOVIE IS NOT PORN, TOM. I SHIP E/R BUT REALLY THIS HAS TO STOP." something like that forgerness:    ok I think this showcases my intelligence pretty well. thewintercynic:    hahaha thewintercynic:    NO TOM thewintercynic:    LOOK thewintercynic:    I KNOW CILLIAN HAS A LONGER BODY THAN YOU thewintercynic:    BUT PLEASE thewintercynic:    AIM HIGHER thewintercynic:    YOU CANNOT DEFIBRILATE HIS DICK OKAY thewintercynic:    THIS IS NOT SOME DOCTOR PORNO forgerness:    DICK DEFIBRILATION LOLOL thewintercynic:    this is the new Viagra thewintercynic:    don't you know thewintercynic:    from dead penis to electrified in one step! thewintercynic:    CLEAR thewintercynic:    ZAP thewintercynic:    SPROING! tigerlilystories:    omg . . . forgerness:    that would be so useful for kicks the_azure_blue:    cannot stop laughing here forgerness:    dream-shattering erections the_azure_blue:    ack, my side! hey, that is a prompt on the kink meme, jsyk

[azuremew]

"At some point the elevator stops, but they don't."

(. . . I really do need to post the chat log to explain this one, lol.)

[azuremew]

Eames is Steve Rogers, Robert is Peggy and Yusuf is Howard Stark.

(Er, Hephs? This has your name written all over it, bb! Thewintercynic posted it; lol, blame a conversation about E/F eating fondue on the plane before touchdown and Robert having chocolate on his lips, okay?)