isweedan + kink_bingo   4

Into Character
He sits on the bedroom floor, and enters into intense negotiations with Rachel; Peter and Mozzie hang back in the doorway. She eventually agrees to hand over Prince Kitkat for surgery in exchange for Neal immediately substituting for the Prince in some sort of complicated rescue of a kidnapped Webkin octopus in the Amazon.

Neal gets down on hands and knees and says, "Hurry, Agent Rachel, we've got to save--"

"Cats don't talk," Rachel says, lip curling, and Neal--Neal meows. Apologetically.

Peter gasps in a startled breath--because the second he started speaking in cat, Neal got into character. Peter's been obsessively cataloging Neal's behavior for years--the last few weeks, for more personal reasons--and Neal's suddenly gone from a guy on his hands and knees to, well, a cat. Lithe and languid, stretching his long narrow back, kneading at the carpet with his hands curled into paws.

"Jesus," Peter whispers. He'd had no idea that picture would do things to him. Not something that had ever come up before.

"Yeah," Mozzie says. He sounds awestruck. "The guy's method. If she gave him a saucer of milk, he'd drink it."

Peter shudders and can't quite suppress the whimper, and Mozzie looks at him, raises his eyebrows. "The suit's kinky!" he whispers. He sounds proud.
whitecollar  peter/neal/elizabeth  kink_bingo  length:short.-1k  from twitter
april 2011 by isweedan
Eats, Shoots, and Leaves
I do not remember the Erlking like, AT ALL. So I should reread some Dresden Files books.

So the evening started out with me eying the Erlking's banquet table, the carved tokens that denoted the place of each guest, not seeing the snowflake-and-sword for the Winter Queen's Knight-emissary, and saying: "Am I sitting at the kid's table or what?"

The Erlking looked up from the head of the table, currently the only other figure in the hall. I'd gotten there early-- a survival tactic I'd picked up early into my Knighthood. Within the first two hours- early into my Knighthood. "I don't think I quite heard that, Knight."

I closed my eyes, reminded myself what could happen if I disobeyed Mab's orders to be on, and I quote, 'your best behavior, little one,' and tried again. "Mighty Jaegerkoenig, I mean no offense. But I can't find my goddamn seat."

He laughed, a rich bass sound. "Would I offend your Queen by giving her emissary less than the prize position?"

"" I guessed.

He pushed back, his massive oak chair sliding as lightly as balsa wood doll furniture on greased rails, and patted his thigh.

Aw crap.

I was Mab's Knight, one of the very few mortals privy to the political and social inner circles of the fae. I was unique, and exotic in my own way... and, you know, an unknown quantity. All Knights, I was told, went through this breaking-in period; the local bigwigs poked, prodded, teased, picked fights, and tried to get the new Knight in trouble. It would settle down soon, Toot-toot had reassured me. A decade, tops.

harry/erlking  harry/kincaid  harry/erlking/kincaid  kink_bingo  dresdenfiles  exhibitionism  voyeurism  sizekink  length:short.1k-5k  from twitter
april 2011 by isweedan
Bandom FIC: No substitute for the real thing, but that doesn't keep anyone from trying
for a Birthday Smut-a-Thon prompt from athenejen. She asked for Pete/Patrick (or Pete/any, or Patrick/any), substitute. It also fulfills my pegging/strap on kink_bingo prompt.

No substitute for the real thing, but that doesn't keep anyone from trying
by Lenore

If Patrick had a dime for every time Pete has dragged him somewhere he didn't want to be…well, he'd have a metric ton of dimes. Actually, a metric ton plus one counting tonight. Pete's favorite brothel has actual purple velvet covering the walls, and Patrick would like to look away from it--really, really he would--but there's nowhere else that's safe to look. The lava lamp thingy in the corner (possibly the owners of the place think it's a light sculpture?) keeps blinking spastically, a seizure waiting to happen, and he's afraid if he accidentally meets the eye of the woman in the leopard-print teddy, the one who keeps staring at him and licking her lips, it might encourage her.  fob  bandom  scribblinlenore  kink_bingo  length:short.1k-5k  from twitter
april 2011 by isweedan
mwestbelle: fic: say please
Frank/mikey begging

Frank didn't know. When he yelled for Mikey to throw him his gummy worms, and Mikey shouted back "Say please!", he said it without thinking. It was a habit from being a kid, conditioning to one of his mom's favorite phrases. The next time Mikey said it ("Say please," when Frank told him to move his skinny ass out of the aisle), Frank stepped on his foot and flipped him off.

"What's it all about?" He asked, while Mikey was tight and perfect on top of him in the bunk. It helped to be a tiny fucker and a skinny fucker.

"Gay sex?" Mikey asked. Frank bit his lip hard.
frank/mikey  mcr  bandom  kink_bingo  begging  mwestbelle  length:short.-1k  from twitter
march 2011 by isweedan

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