hoosierbitch | Prompt me?

Okay, I can do kink *cracks knuckles* WhiCo, Peter/Neal. A butt plug. Peter makes Neal wear a butt plug to work/to a dinner/somewhere. What does Neal feel? How does Peter react to it?

2 and 3: A Kink at A Time When...Neal joins Peter in the shower. Could be first time, Neal won't take no for an answer, or they're late for work and Neal doesn't care. The important points are: wet, naked, raunchy.

GO.

2&3: Neal doesn't mind being on the bottom, but he feels that Peter needs to learn to trust him too.

Peter consents to being tied up so Neal can have his way with him , but he wasn't planning for it to happen at that moment.

Too much? I'll come up with a new prompt. :-D

1. Fic: I want tomorrow
Timestamp - 1 Month after the end
2. A time when Neal is finally starting to feel that Peter and El can give him a little more
3. Neal showing his gratitude to them -- kink options can be DP, rough sex, fisting, whatever :)

I was trying to think of a story that I don't think you are actively working on a sequel to. If that one is too obscure then

1. Piercing story <3 - 1 month after it ended
2. A time when Neal is getting a piercing(s)
3. Needle play! Rough sex, piercings you know what I like!

*hugs* you are worrying too much on the writings!

Edited 2010-04-03 23:02 (UTC)

White Collar:
A time when El (or Peter or both) had to punish Neal with weights?
or
Neal in a cheerleader's outfit. Because.
or
A time when Peter felt inadequtate. Sexually. And how he handled that. For some reason, I see El cracking up by the end of that.
or
Major sensory deprivation- sound and sight
or
A time when Neal took jinxing seriously (maybe to prove a point?) and has to make Peter say his name five times before he'll talk again. Up to you whether he uses Peter's exasperated "Neal"s or used sex to make Peter say his name.
or
A time when Neal was spying on El while she's doing mundane things. Thinking how much that tall lamp looked like a stripper pole as she approached it or how her skirt pulls across her thighs.

You are cool for offering to do this. I would be thrilled if wanted to do any of these (not everyone's cup of tea so I left more than one):

Merlin/Arthur established relationship with bottom!Arthur: a time when Arthur was travelling alone and Merlin used magic to make him 'feel' what he would if Merlin were there

White Collar Peter/Neal: a time when Neal got Peter to try a kink even though Peter really didn't want to, but then Peter liked it so much Neal regretted it.

Peter/Neal or Eliot/anyone of the team, sex outside in a garden or the woods (is that a kink? if it's not, then hairpulling kink).

All ideas WC OT3 (cause it's EPIC and makes me happy)

One (or more) times where something Neal and Peter did made Elizabeth laugh and love them even more.

Ties. N & E are SURE there are much better uses for Peter's ugly ties than letting him wear them.

And this is SORTA a kink-- I am DYING for someone to write something about Neal making art. Preferably of El, or Peter, or El and Peter (or El & Peter & him) or something for them, something original and not a copy. EVEN BETTER-- art ON them. Using their skin as canvas.

Um, sorry, they don't have all 3 elements...

(Also? I have a Moz & Neal friendship fic that needs some love, if you're interested.)

He squirted a little more lube onto his hand before slicking it onto the plug. "Look at your little hole," he murmured, rubbing his thumb against Neal's entrance, a tease of friction against his sensitive skin. Neal was on his knees, face pressed against the mattress, legs spread. Already breathing heavily and Peter had barely gotten started.

He prlaced the tip plug against Neal's hole and braced the base against his thigh. "Push back." And he held steady while Neal shuffled up onto his elbows and started to press backwards, smiling as he saw Neal's shoulders tense and heard his breath hitch.

The first rounded section slid in easily enough. A solid shove, a surprised gasp, Peter's hands on Neal's hips to keep him from pulling away. "Only two more to go."

Neal nodded and started to move again. The second swell of the plug was bigger - maybe two or three more inches in diameter, and from the muffled shout that Neal failed to bite back when he got past the widest part and his hole clenched down, it wasn't comfortable. Peter reached between his legs and started stroking his cock, teasing at his slit. "One more, Neal. Hurry up - we've got reservations in half an hour."

It took so much longer for the third one to get it. He watched Neal's hole try to expand, the skin of his rim going white and bloodless each time, before Neal pulled back. It was beautiful - but it was taking too long. Peter adjusted the plug against his hip, grabbed Neal around the waist, and pulled him back.

Neal's arms buckled and he fell forward, another inch sliding in. "So good," Peter whispered, too quietly for Neal to hear him over the steady stream of whimpers spilling out of his mouth. "Just a little - more - " And Neal was clutching at the bedspread, rocking his hips urgently in Peter's grasp.

"Relax," he ordered. And Neal froze, and took a deep breath, and sobbed when Peter gave one last shove and it slid in.

Just a black circle, a bit of rubber, remained visible. He twisted it in a circle and smirked when Neal's whole body convulsed. "Get dressed. You've got..." He checked his watch. "Five minutes." He stood up, brushed his suit off, and went downstairs to make small talk with June.

There was a sheen of sweat already covering Neal's brow when he walked down the stairs. Each step was careful, deliberate, slow. He managed to resist the urge to rub himself through his suit (his best suit, which he looked perfectly fine in, no matter what Neal said).

June looked worried. "Neal, are you feeling alright?"

Peter pasted on a worried look and stood up, walking over to feel Neal's forehead. "You do look a bit flushed. Are you sure you're up for going out?"

Neal shot him a quick glare before flashing his winning smile at June. "I'll be fine, I'm just feeling a little under the weather."

"I'll take good care of him," Peter promised her, wrapping an arm around Neal's waist. And if his hand and happened to brush against Neal's ass and linger there for a moment, she would never be the wiser. The flush that flooded Neal's cheeks was worth it.

"We have to go," Neal choked out. Peter said goodbye and escorted Neal out to the Taurus. "You're - you're a bastard,, he said as Peter helped him down the stairs.

Peter tsked at him. "Language, Neal."

Neal stumbled and fell against Peter's side, his hand fisting in the back of Peter's jacket. "Oh, fuck - "

He held steady while Neal recovered himself. Ran his hand down Neal's back, savoring the tremors that ran through him, the small sounds he couldn't keep to himself. He looked like he was about to come. Eyes tightly shut, face flushed, sweaty, shaking. He tightened his hold on Neal and hurried him down the steps, getting harder with every gasp Neal made, every hitch in his step, every hesitation. Not so graceful now.

Peter opened the door and waited for Neal to sit down. It took him almost a full minute. The plug wasn't just wide, it was long, and every shift in position was a new sensation, a new stretch, a new position that his body had to struggle to accomodate. When Neal was finally seated Peter shut his door, got in the driver's side, punched in the directions, and started driving.

"Touch yourself. If you can come before we get to the restaurant, I won't use the vibrate function until we get back home. If you can't, well..." He slipped his hand into his pocket, grabbed the control, and briefly turned it up to three. Neal's hips shot up off the seat, his mouth fell open, the line of his dick obvious through his pants.

Peter turned it off after a few seconds. "It's a short drive, Neal. I'd get started if I were you..."

OMG.

You are giving me ideas for your Chile fic, woman.

Damn you, the vibrate function was MY IDEA! LOL! Do you still want it now?

And by the way, this is HAWT!!!

He ignored Neal during the drive. He had to - it was either ignore him, or crash. The sounds alone - Christ. He was jerking off frantically, eyes closed, and Peter had never been more grateful for the tinted windows in the new Taurus model.

But when they pulled up, Neal's cock - sticking out obscenely from the pants and boxers shoved down around his thigh, red and dripping - was still hard.

Peter leaned over and pulled some napkins out of the glove compartment. He wiped the sweat off Neal's forehead and then some of the precum off his dick. Neal thrust urgently against Peter's hand, whimpering when he pulled away.

Neal got out of the car quicker than he got in, which was good, because the valet was already looking at them funny. The waiter showed them to a corner booth, handed Peter the wine list, and left. Neal had obvious difficulty sitting down, and Peter hovered over him, holding his elbow and assisting him.

"How's your back?" He asked loudly in case any of the other diners were looking too closely before moving to his side of the booth. Neal just glared. "Oh, don't be like that. You're the one who said you wanted to go out to a nice restaurant!"

"Yes, but I didn't - " Peter slid the control up to the fifth level and Neal gasped. "Hate you," he moaned, and leaned back against the booth, hips undulating slowly, fucking himself on the plug. Peter let him go for a few seconds, but when his hand crept towards his groin, he clicked it off. "Pick out your appetizer, Neal. Something that would go well with a dry white - we'll get red with dessert. Or maybe a nice Australian Chardonnay - they've got a wonderful selection." He put the wine list to the side and opened up his menu. "Well, we'll have plenty of time to decide before then. We're in no hurry, after all." Neal just whimpered.

\o/

YES I STILL WANT IT, WOMAN! THERE CAN NEVER BE TOO MANY VIBRATING BUTT PLUGS!

*is ridiculously happy*

That IS my personal life motto. If a butt plug doesn't vibrate, what the hell good is it?

Lovin your icon, LMAO!

"Yes, but I didn't - " Peter slid the control up to the fifth level and Neal gasped. "Hate you," he moaned, and leaned back against the booth, hips undulating slowly, fucking himself on the plug.

YOWZAH!!!!!!

OMG YOUR ICON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -flails-

Neal looked about a breath away from crying the entire meal. Eyes tight, lips pressed together, pleading with Peter as much as he could without saying anything. He'd have to do this more often.

He used the vibrate function sparingly. Just when Neal was lifting his wine glass to his lips, or smiling at the waitress, or relaxing too much. By the time they finished their entrees, he was trembling. Peter ordered a slice of cheesecake and decided on the red.

"Pull the tablecloth over your lap," he said quietly after the waitress left. "Then keep your hands on the table. Sit back in your seat and spread your legs."

After Neal did as he asked Peter lifted his foot, rested it on the edge of Neal's seat, and pressed the sole of his shoe agaisnt Neal's cock. Neal hunched over the table and Peter pressed harder, increasing the pressure until Neal let out a small, helpless sound. Until he was sure it hurt as much as it gave pleasure.

It was late, and by then the surrounding tables were mostly empty. A small family and an old couple were the only ones who were close enough to see the way Neal started rubbing himself off against Peter's shoe. The sweat that dripped down his temple, the pain in his expression. "Tell me what it feels like," he said, honestly curious.

When Neal slowly lifted his head and looked at him, Peter's breath caught in his throat. He looked - he looked broken open, pressed to his limits and beyond, helpless to hide his feelings and hating it and desperate. He opened his mouth to answer and Peter turned up the vibrator as high as it would go.

Neal sobbed, loud enough that people turned to stare, and Peter came. He wasn't touching himself, hadn't meant to come, but Neal had sobbed and pressed his cock even harder against Peter's foot and hadn't for a second lost eye contact. He left the vibrator on as he rode the aftershocks, semen spreading in his boxers.

"We're leaving," he ordered when he caught his breath, pulling his wallet out and pulling out enough cash to leave a very sizable tip. He held his coat in front of his groin and pulled Neal up too quickly. He let out another groan, utterly failing to stifle it in Peter's shoulder. He had to practically carry him. Neal might have been able to support more of his own weight if Peter turned the vibrator off - but he was't feeling particularly generous. "Not been feeling well," Peter explained to the old couple who'd been staring at them. "I'm taking him home."

"Did you - did you come?" Neal gasped when they were both back in the car.

"Yes," Peter said. "And if you want to come at all tonight, you're going to have to do it before we get back to the apartment. Only one catch - " Neal growled at him. "You're not allowed to touch yourself."

*

(...I think this is actually the end. BWAHAHAHA!)

katikat - thank you SO MUCH for the prompt! *loves on you*

Just awesome!!!!! Peter came! On Neal's desperation! ewiwjtr vshfrgbh!!!

What ever happened to the Corset!Kink piece? Neal in Dior "New Look"?

If not that, then could you do anything with Mean!Peter and Meaner!Neal? Both in black leather - fighting for dominance?

*laughs* It is made by the wonderful

dawnie1970!

YAY! Thanks, yo! I'm so glad you liked it!!!! :D

Okay, I haven't touched this in a while, but here's what I got:

*

"We've gotten an unusual request from the FDA. They want to use Caffrey for an undercover bust."

Peter narrows his eyes. "The last time Neal was under someone else's supervision he got kidnapped and tazed. Twice. He could get nerve damage from that, you know." Neal seemed unaffected by the events that had transpired on Agent Rice's case (but then, Neal seemed unaffected by everything besides slights to his 'alleged' skills. And Peter's wardrobe).

"They're willing to let you in. You'll be able to watch the video feeds real-time, you'll be able to pull the plug whenever you feel Caffrey is in danger."

"They - what the hell kind of op are they running that they're willing to give us that kind of leeway?"

"Apparently," Hughes says, sliding a folder across the desk, "one very uniquely suited to Neal's...talents."

*

"Neal, we've got a new case."

"If it's mortgate fraud again, I will shoot you."

"But you hate guns."

"I hate mortgage fraud even more."

"It's not mortgage fraud."

Neal looked at him curiously. "So what is it?"

"You're going undercover, baby." Neal's breath caught in his throat and his heart did some unhealthy calisthenics in his chest from the sound of the quiet endearment. Peter slid some photos in front of him. They were poorly lit candid shots, taken inside expensive bars and clubs. They showed an assortment of tall, strong women hanging on the arm of some burly well-dressed man.

"What's the con? I mean, job?"

Peter's finger pointed to one of the women - handsome, strong features, beautiful dress - "the mark likes men in drag."

Neal just raised an eyebrow. "So my work as Sandra Hanley didn't go entirely unnoticed?"

"Well you didn't avoid all the cameras and your eyes are hard to miss, Caffrey. Especially with all that mascara you piled on."

"Damn. I knew I should have just sucked it up and worn the contacts." He looked up at Peter imploringly. "They made my eyes water in the worst way. I looked like a racoon when they were in."

June was more than happy to throw her closet open to Neal's critical eye. "Oh, do try the Dior. You've got such a narrow waist, it will give you curves you'd never even dreamed of." Peter resumed his attempts to melt into the couch.

"June, it's lovely! I hope it fits. I'd better put the corset on before I try it..."

"I can help!" Peter said, quickly getting up of the couch quickly.

"Oh, I - I'd prefer if June does it, if you don't mind?"

He blinked. He really wanted to lace Neal up, to pull the strings tight, to see Neal's body bend - but of course he'd step back if Neal didn't want him to. "Whatever," he said, sitting back down with a bored sigh.

He didn't know where Moz had acquired a corset in Neal's size on such short notice (his cryptic 'always be prepared' response had been uniquely irritating). But he hoped like hell Moz didn't want it back. Neal looked at him with a small smile, nervously fidgiting with the bottom edge. "You like?"

Peter stood up and walked over to him. He put his hand on Neal's shoulder and directed him in a slow turn. There was a small strip of bare skin between the bottom of the corset and the top of Neal's slacks. The black cords trailed over it, and Peter (with a quick glance to make sure June was occupied pulling out another dress) touched it with the backs of his fingers. Neal took in a quick breath - but couldn't take in a big breath, no, not with the way the metal stays confined his ribs.

"If June wasn't here," he whispered into Neal's ear, "I'd fuck you right now." He turned Neal back around and gave him a once-over. His cheeks were flushed - no, his cheeks and his neck and the top of his chest were flushed. His skin resumed its normal color right before his nipples, right before the smooth fabric of the corset took over, squeezing his ribs, his stomach, the new curves of his waist. "Can you breathe in that? Move well enough? If things go bad - as they seem to do quite often, when you're around - you might need to run."

Neal did a few stretches to demonstrate his full range of motion and if June hadn't been right there, Peter would have come in his pants. "Oh, I think I'll manage."

Peter swallowed. "Right. Good. Excellent. For the - safety."

When June helped Neal strip down to his boxer briefs to try on the Dior, Peter had to smother the irrational urge to tell her to keep her hands of his - his - Neal. Especially when she smacked Neal's ass. That was Peter's ass to smack, dammit. The first dress didn't work. Too tight on the hips, too loose on the chest. Neal had vetoed fake breasts after looking through the photos again, figuring out what Johnathon West looked for in his companions.

Neal tried on a navy-blue Halsten that made his eyes look like they were glowing, only it was too tight. None of the Valentino gowns were long enough in the arms. The Lanvin cocktail dresses were too short, but Peter's cock urgently tried to tell him that really, no, they were great.

Then he tried on a cream-colored gown...

AND THEN I GOT STUCK.

I think it's 'cause I tried to do a plot, and. And that NEVER ENDS WELL FOR ME. :-(

Any suggestions/tips/pointers/questions/more prompts for this are SO VERY VERY WELCOME!

Mmmm - looks to be a good one. Hope you decide to continue it at some point.

Thanks...

EDITED - Because I replied thinking that the first part was it.

I do have some ideas of where you can take this...let me get back to you.

Edited 2010-04-04 03:33 (UTC)

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cross-dressing 1/?

cross-dressing 2/?

Re: cross-dressing 2/?

Re: cross-dressing 1/?