Fic + Art: Perfect
Title: Perfect
Authors: cherrybina and five_ht
Artist: platina
Team: Romance
Prompt: Innocence
Rating: NC-17 (fic), NSFW (art)
Word Count: ~2,000
Warnings: daddy kink, age difference, spanking
Summary: Arthur gets his reward for being a good boy.
When Eames gets home from work, he knows Arthur is going to be waiting for him before he even opens the door. Today’s the day Arthur gets the results of his calculus midterm from last week. He spent hours studying for that exam, and came out bragging about how he nailed it, cocky and assured in that way only an eighteen-year-old can be.
Eames finds Arthur at the dining room table, with his books spread out in front of him. It’s a familiar sight; Arthur spends hours every day studying, certainly much more time than Eames ever spent in his first year at university, but then, Eames never had a set of such motivating rewards.
Arthur’s excitement is obvious even from across the room, and he grins at Eames, practically bouncing in his seat. Eames takes his time, dropping his keys on the table by the front door, taking off his suit jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair before crossing the room to where Arthur’s sitting.
“What are you studying?” Eames asks, leaning down and bracing his arm on the table. He hooks his chin over Arthur’s shoulder and rubs his stubble against Arthur’s smooth cheek.
“The James-Lange theory of emotion,” Arthur says, tapping his pencil on his book and leaning back into Eames’ touch.
“Sounds fascinating,” Eames says, giving Arthur a kiss on the cheek, then straightening up. “Are you hungry? I’m going to make some dinner.”
Arthur lets him get about halfway to the kitchen before he gives in.
“Eames.”
Eames stops and turns around. Arthur’s looking at him expectantly, and Eames could drag this out even longer, he could make Arthur wait until he asks for exactly what he wants, but there’s plenty of time for that later.
“How did you do on your midterm?” Eames finally asks the question he knows Arthur’s waiting for as he walks back over to where he’s sitting.
Arthur’s smile lights up his whole face, and he tosses his pencil down and pushes his chair back from the table. “I got a hundred.”
“That’s very impressive,” Eames says, and tugs Arthur up out of his seat. Arthur hums happily when Eames wraps his arms around him and pulls him in close.
“It’s perfect,” Arthur breathes into Eames’ neck.
Eames runs his hands down over Arthur’s arse and squeezes, hitching him even closer. “Mmm, yes, it is.”
Eames wraps one hand around the back of Arthur’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss, soft and familiar. They both know exactly where this is going, but Eames takes his time, letting them settle into place, kissing Arthur until everything else fades away and his focus narrows to the feel of Arthur’s body pressed up against him and the warm wet slide of their mouths.
“You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” Eames asks when he pulls away.
Arthur’s face is flushed pink and his breath catches in his chest when he speaks. “Yes.”
“Then you deserve something special,” Eames murmurs, running his fingers over Arthur’s cheek. “Good boys get rewards, isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” Arthur moans again, trying to lean back in, but Eames holds him still with one hand on his hip.
“Yes, what?”
Arthur’s eyelids flutter as he goes easy and plaint in Eames’ arms, and just like that Arthur’s right where Eames wants him. “Yes, daddy.”
It’s exactly what Eames was waiting for.
Eames leads Arthur over to the couch and sits down, spreading his knees so Arthur can stand between them.
“I know how much you studied for that exam,” Eames says, running his hands up the back of Arthur’s thighs.
Arthur’s breathless already, and he clings onto Eames’ shoulders and smiles down at him. “I worked really hard.”
“Yes, you did,” Eames says. “And now you want your reward, isn’t that right?”
Arthur nods eagerly.
“Then pull down your trousers and bend over daddy’s knee like a good boy.”
Arthur’s hands shake as he unbuckles his belt, and he shoves his trousers to his ankles and climbs over Eames’ lap, pressing his face in the cushions. Eames runs his hand down Arthur’s back and rests it on the curve of his arse. They’ve done this more times than Eames can count, but he never gets over how much Arthur loves this - how this is his very favorite reward.
Eames knows what Arthur wants, but with Arthur over his lap and his perfect arse right under his hands, he can’t resist stroking his thumb down Arthur’s cleft, coming to rest on his hole and pressing gently. Arthur moans and spreads his legs, and Eames has to take a breath and remind himself that that’s for later.
Eames pulls his thumb away and pats Arthur’s bottom. “Not yet, sweetheart. You want to get you want what you earned, isn’t that right?”
“Yeah,” Arthur breathes, pushing back into Eames’ touch.
Eames rubs over Arthur’s smooth, pale skin, then lifts his hand, delighting at the way Arthur trembles in anticipation. “Say it for me, and daddy will give you what you deserve.”
“Spank me, daddy, please.”
“Good boy,” Eames says, and brings his hand down on Arthur’s arse.
Arthur groans at the first smack and rocks forward on Eames’ lap. Eames doesn’t pause before bringing his hand down again, spanking Arthur before he can catch his breath, exactly the way he knows Arthur loves it best. Soon Arthur is gasping for air, bracing himself on the cushions and rubbing himself on Eames’ thighs.
“You want daddy to spank you harder?” Eames asks, bringing his hand down with a satisfying smack.
Arthur shudders in Eames’ lap, his back curving in a delicious arch as he raises his hips for more. “Yes, daddy. Please, I want more.”
Eames smiles, his chest swelling with pride, and brings his hand up before smacking Arthur hard enough to knock the breath right out of him. He spanks him again and again, until Arthur’s skin is bright red, and his own palm is tingling from the force of his blows. When Arthur’s shaking is his lap and groaning into the cushions, Eames stops, ignoring Arthur’s whimper of protest.
“Most little boys get a spanking when they’ve been naughty,” Eames says, stroking his hand over Arthur’s red-hot skin. “But that would never work for you, because you love this too much, don’t you?”
“Yes, daddy,” Arthur moans.
“All you want when you’ve been a good boy is for daddy to take you over his knee just like this, isn’t that right?”
Arthur chokes on his words when Eames hits him again, but Eames already knows the answer. He knows that this is what Arthur wants, that this is what he needs - a firm hand, not to punish but to reward. Arthur works so hard, follows all the rules, does as he’s told because he wants to end up right here, over Eames’ lap with his arse in the air, all red and sore from a good hard spanking.
“Sweetheart,” Eames says, tracing his fingers over Arthur’s tender skin and letting them slip into the cleft of Arthur’s arse in a promise of what’s to come. “Tell daddy what you need.”
Arthur’s hips are twitching uncontrollably and his face is buried in the cushions, but he turns his head to the side and takes a deep, shaky breath. “Harder, spank me harder,” he gasps. “Please, daddy, I need to come.”
“Always such a good boy for me.”
Eames spanks him hard, bringing his hand down on Arthur’s bright red skin, and he doesn’t stop until Arthur comes all over his lap, sobbing into the couch.
When Arthur’s hips stop jerking, Eames reaches down and yanks Arthur’s trousers the rest of the way off. Eames pulls Arthur up into his arms so he can straddle his thighs, settling into his lap, and then he rubs his hand down Arthur’s back, stopping where the skin turns hot. When Eames lets his hand drift lower, tracing over Arthur’s tender flesh, Arthur hisses but pushes back into Eames’ touch.
Eames takes his time, stroking Arthur’s hair, and slipping the fingers of his other hand into the cleft of his arse, rubbing gently over his hole while Arthur catches his breath. When Arthur starts moaning into Eames’ neck and rocking in his lap, Eames knows he’s almost there.
A moment later, Arthur whispers, “Fuck me, daddy. I need your cock inside me.”
Eames grins and reaches blindly for the drawer of the coffee table, fumbling for the lube he keeps there for occasions just like this. He slicks his fingers and circles one over Arthur’s hole before pushing in. Arthur’s always so tight, but he’s relaxed from his orgasm, and Eames slides it all the way in with no resistance. Arthur lets out a soft breathy sound and spreads his knees wide apart, giving Eames room to work in even deeper. When Eames adds another wet finger, Arthur moans softly and opens right up for him, moving his hips in time with Eames’ motions.
Eames takes his time, adding more lube until Arthur’s dripping with it, sinking his fingers into that clinging wet heat until Arthur grows restless in his lap.
“I’m ready, I’m ready,” Arthur gasps, his arms tight around Eames’ neck as he fucks himself down on Eames’ fingers.
Eames pulls his fingers free and rubs circles over Arthur’s slick little hole. “Always so greedy, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” Arthur breathes, without a hint of shame. “I want it.”
Arthur lifts up on his knees while Eames opens his fly and pulls his cock out. “Go on then,” Eames says, slipping his hands under Arthur’s shirt and wrapping them around his hips. “Be a good boy and sit on daddy’s cock.”
Eames holds Arthur steady as he takes Eames’ cock in one smooth slide. Arthur hisses when his tender skin makes contact with Eames’ trousers, but he starts to move immediately, thighs clenching as he lifts up and then sinks down again, rocking his hips back so Eames can slide even deeper into that tight, slick heat. Arthur loves getting spanked until he can hardly breathe, but this is Eames’ favorite part: the soft, warm weight of Arthur in his lap, and the feel of his freshly spanked arse hot under Eames’ hands as he works himself down on Eames’ cock with a practiced ease that betrays the innocence of him begging, please, daddy, please.
Eames pulls Arthur down for a sloppy kiss, interrupting his rhythm, and when they break away Eames says, “Show me how you like it.”
Arthur’s lips curl up into a slow, filthy smile that Eames knows so well, and he wraps his arms around Eames neck and leans in so their faces are only inches apart. “Yes, daddy.”
Arthur rides him hard, fucking himself on Eames’ cock until they’re both gasping for breath. When his hips start jerking helplessly, Eames pulls him down and whispers, “Come for daddy,” and Arthur does, clenching down tight and making a mess all over Eames’ shirt.
Eames follows a second later, fingers digging into Arthur’s hips as he fucks up into him and comes, deep inside.
After he catches his breath, Eames gently eases Arthur onto his back and sinks down on top of him, burying his face in Arthur’s hair and thinking idly of a shower followed by dinner. Eventually, Arthur starts squirming under Eames’ weight.
“Eames,” he says, poking him in the side.
Eames lifts up and braces himself on his arms.
“Just so you know,” Arthur says, smiling up at him. “I’m hanging my exam on the fridge.”
Eames huffs out a laugh. “You want everyone who comes over to see that you’re such an excellent student?”
“Yes,” Arthur says, then his face softens and he wraps his arms around Eames’ neck. “But no one else will know how lucky I really am.”
Eames touches Arthur’s cheek, running his knuckles over his smooth skin, and then lets Arthur drag him back down. Eames kisses him until he forgets all about a shower or dinner, or anything else that isn’t the feel of Arthur’s body beneath him, and the warmth that blooms in his chest when Arthur pulls him in a little tighter. Right now, this is all he wants. Everything else can wait.
Authors: cherrybina and five_ht
Artist: platina
Team: Romance
Prompt: Innocence
Rating: NC-17 (fic), NSFW (art)
Word Count: ~2,000
Warnings: daddy kink, age difference, spanking
Summary: Arthur gets his reward for being a good boy.
When Eames gets home from work, he knows Arthur is going to be waiting for him before he even opens the door. Today’s the day Arthur gets the results of his calculus midterm from last week. He spent hours studying for that exam, and came out bragging about how he nailed it, cocky and assured in that way only an eighteen-year-old can be.
Eames finds Arthur at the dining room table, with his books spread out in front of him. It’s a familiar sight; Arthur spends hours every day studying, certainly much more time than Eames ever spent in his first year at university, but then, Eames never had a set of such motivating rewards.
Arthur’s excitement is obvious even from across the room, and he grins at Eames, practically bouncing in his seat. Eames takes his time, dropping his keys on the table by the front door, taking off his suit jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair before crossing the room to where Arthur’s sitting.
“What are you studying?” Eames asks, leaning down and bracing his arm on the table. He hooks his chin over Arthur’s shoulder and rubs his stubble against Arthur’s smooth cheek.
“The James-Lange theory of emotion,” Arthur says, tapping his pencil on his book and leaning back into Eames’ touch.
“Sounds fascinating,” Eames says, giving Arthur a kiss on the cheek, then straightening up. “Are you hungry? I’m going to make some dinner.”
Arthur lets him get about halfway to the kitchen before he gives in.
“Eames.”
Eames stops and turns around. Arthur’s looking at him expectantly, and Eames could drag this out even longer, he could make Arthur wait until he asks for exactly what he wants, but there’s plenty of time for that later.
“How did you do on your midterm?” Eames finally asks the question he knows Arthur’s waiting for as he walks back over to where he’s sitting.
Arthur’s smile lights up his whole face, and he tosses his pencil down and pushes his chair back from the table. “I got a hundred.”
“That’s very impressive,” Eames says, and tugs Arthur up out of his seat. Arthur hums happily when Eames wraps his arms around him and pulls him in close.
“It’s perfect,” Arthur breathes into Eames’ neck.
Eames runs his hands down over Arthur’s arse and squeezes, hitching him even closer. “Mmm, yes, it is.”
Eames wraps one hand around the back of Arthur’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss, soft and familiar. They both know exactly where this is going, but Eames takes his time, letting them settle into place, kissing Arthur until everything else fades away and his focus narrows to the feel of Arthur’s body pressed up against him and the warm wet slide of their mouths.
“You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” Eames asks when he pulls away.
Arthur’s face is flushed pink and his breath catches in his chest when he speaks. “Yes.”
“Then you deserve something special,” Eames murmurs, running his fingers over Arthur’s cheek. “Good boys get rewards, isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” Arthur moans again, trying to lean back in, but Eames holds him still with one hand on his hip.
“Yes, what?”
Arthur’s eyelids flutter as he goes easy and plaint in Eames’ arms, and just like that Arthur’s right where Eames wants him. “Yes, daddy.”
It’s exactly what Eames was waiting for.
Eames leads Arthur over to the couch and sits down, spreading his knees so Arthur can stand between them.
“I know how much you studied for that exam,” Eames says, running his hands up the back of Arthur’s thighs.
Arthur’s breathless already, and he clings onto Eames’ shoulders and smiles down at him. “I worked really hard.”
“Yes, you did,” Eames says. “And now you want your reward, isn’t that right?”
Arthur nods eagerly.
“Then pull down your trousers and bend over daddy’s knee like a good boy.”
Arthur’s hands shake as he unbuckles his belt, and he shoves his trousers to his ankles and climbs over Eames’ lap, pressing his face in the cushions. Eames runs his hand down Arthur’s back and rests it on the curve of his arse. They’ve done this more times than Eames can count, but he never gets over how much Arthur loves this - how this is his very favorite reward.
Eames knows what Arthur wants, but with Arthur over his lap and his perfect arse right under his hands, he can’t resist stroking his thumb down Arthur’s cleft, coming to rest on his hole and pressing gently. Arthur moans and spreads his legs, and Eames has to take a breath and remind himself that that’s for later.
Eames pulls his thumb away and pats Arthur’s bottom. “Not yet, sweetheart. You want to get you want what you earned, isn’t that right?”
“Yeah,” Arthur breathes, pushing back into Eames’ touch.
Eames rubs over Arthur’s smooth, pale skin, then lifts his hand, delighting at the way Arthur trembles in anticipation. “Say it for me, and daddy will give you what you deserve.”
“Spank me, daddy, please.”
“Good boy,” Eames says, and brings his hand down on Arthur’s arse.
Arthur groans at the first smack and rocks forward on Eames’ lap. Eames doesn’t pause before bringing his hand down again, spanking Arthur before he can catch his breath, exactly the way he knows Arthur loves it best. Soon Arthur is gasping for air, bracing himself on the cushions and rubbing himself on Eames’ thighs.
“You want daddy to spank you harder?” Eames asks, bringing his hand down with a satisfying smack.
Arthur shudders in Eames’ lap, his back curving in a delicious arch as he raises his hips for more. “Yes, daddy. Please, I want more.”
Eames smiles, his chest swelling with pride, and brings his hand up before smacking Arthur hard enough to knock the breath right out of him. He spanks him again and again, until Arthur’s skin is bright red, and his own palm is tingling from the force of his blows. When Arthur’s shaking is his lap and groaning into the cushions, Eames stops, ignoring Arthur’s whimper of protest.
“Most little boys get a spanking when they’ve been naughty,” Eames says, stroking his hand over Arthur’s red-hot skin. “But that would never work for you, because you love this too much, don’t you?”
“Yes, daddy,” Arthur moans.
“All you want when you’ve been a good boy is for daddy to take you over his knee just like this, isn’t that right?”
Arthur chokes on his words when Eames hits him again, but Eames already knows the answer. He knows that this is what Arthur wants, that this is what he needs - a firm hand, not to punish but to reward. Arthur works so hard, follows all the rules, does as he’s told because he wants to end up right here, over Eames’ lap with his arse in the air, all red and sore from a good hard spanking.
“Sweetheart,” Eames says, tracing his fingers over Arthur’s tender skin and letting them slip into the cleft of Arthur’s arse in a promise of what’s to come. “Tell daddy what you need.”
Arthur’s hips are twitching uncontrollably and his face is buried in the cushions, but he turns his head to the side and takes a deep, shaky breath. “Harder, spank me harder,” he gasps. “Please, daddy, I need to come.”
“Always such a good boy for me.”
Eames spanks him hard, bringing his hand down on Arthur’s bright red skin, and he doesn’t stop until Arthur comes all over his lap, sobbing into the couch.
When Arthur’s hips stop jerking, Eames reaches down and yanks Arthur’s trousers the rest of the way off. Eames pulls Arthur up into his arms so he can straddle his thighs, settling into his lap, and then he rubs his hand down Arthur’s back, stopping where the skin turns hot. When Eames lets his hand drift lower, tracing over Arthur’s tender flesh, Arthur hisses but pushes back into Eames’ touch.
Eames takes his time, stroking Arthur’s hair, and slipping the fingers of his other hand into the cleft of his arse, rubbing gently over his hole while Arthur catches his breath. When Arthur starts moaning into Eames’ neck and rocking in his lap, Eames knows he’s almost there.
A moment later, Arthur whispers, “Fuck me, daddy. I need your cock inside me.”
Eames grins and reaches blindly for the drawer of the coffee table, fumbling for the lube he keeps there for occasions just like this. He slicks his fingers and circles one over Arthur’s hole before pushing in. Arthur’s always so tight, but he’s relaxed from his orgasm, and Eames slides it all the way in with no resistance. Arthur lets out a soft breathy sound and spreads his knees wide apart, giving Eames room to work in even deeper. When Eames adds another wet finger, Arthur moans softly and opens right up for him, moving his hips in time with Eames’ motions.
Eames takes his time, adding more lube until Arthur’s dripping with it, sinking his fingers into that clinging wet heat until Arthur grows restless in his lap.
“I’m ready, I’m ready,” Arthur gasps, his arms tight around Eames’ neck as he fucks himself down on Eames’ fingers.
Eames pulls his fingers free and rubs circles over Arthur’s slick little hole. “Always so greedy, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” Arthur breathes, without a hint of shame. “I want it.”
Arthur lifts up on his knees while Eames opens his fly and pulls his cock out. “Go on then,” Eames says, slipping his hands under Arthur’s shirt and wrapping them around his hips. “Be a good boy and sit on daddy’s cock.”
Eames holds Arthur steady as he takes Eames’ cock in one smooth slide. Arthur hisses when his tender skin makes contact with Eames’ trousers, but he starts to move immediately, thighs clenching as he lifts up and then sinks down again, rocking his hips back so Eames can slide even deeper into that tight, slick heat. Arthur loves getting spanked until he can hardly breathe, but this is Eames’ favorite part: the soft, warm weight of Arthur in his lap, and the feel of his freshly spanked arse hot under Eames’ hands as he works himself down on Eames’ cock with a practiced ease that betrays the innocence of him begging, please, daddy, please.
Eames pulls Arthur down for a sloppy kiss, interrupting his rhythm, and when they break away Eames says, “Show me how you like it.”
Arthur’s lips curl up into a slow, filthy smile that Eames knows so well, and he wraps his arms around Eames neck and leans in so their faces are only inches apart. “Yes, daddy.”
Arthur rides him hard, fucking himself on Eames’ cock until they’re both gasping for breath. When his hips start jerking helplessly, Eames pulls him down and whispers, “Come for daddy,” and Arthur does, clenching down tight and making a mess all over Eames’ shirt.
Eames follows a second later, fingers digging into Arthur’s hips as he fucks up into him and comes, deep inside.
After he catches his breath, Eames gently eases Arthur onto his back and sinks down on top of him, burying his face in Arthur’s hair and thinking idly of a shower followed by dinner. Eventually, Arthur starts squirming under Eames’ weight.
“Eames,” he says, poking him in the side.
Eames lifts up and braces himself on his arms.
“Just so you know,” Arthur says, smiling up at him. “I’m hanging my exam on the fridge.”
Eames huffs out a laugh. “You want everyone who comes over to see that you’re such an excellent student?”
“Yes,” Arthur says, then his face softens and he wraps his arms around Eames’ neck. “But no one else will know how lucky I really am.”
Eames touches Arthur’s cheek, running his knuckles over his smooth skin, and then lets Arthur drag him back down. Eames kisses him until he forgets all about a shower or dinner, or anything else that isn’t the feel of Arthur’s body beneath him, and the warmth that blooms in his chest when Arthur pulls him in a little tighter. Right now, this is all he wants. Everything else can wait.