You're so Hypnotizing
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(THard as Bane in Nolan's DKR)
Eames is bigger than Arthur
All images from bina's size kink picspam
In this instance, size kink works best inside a jailbait au. So... here you go:
Title: size kink does not need a title
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Warnings: Arthur/Eames. Age difference(legal),
Summary: All the kinks: a nonsense pwp full of size kink, bb dimpleface, and all of the dirty things we love to see Eames do to Arthur’s bum. And possibly feelings.
Notes: For Bina, again, because nothing says end of the semester like size kink.
Eames isn’t your typical coach. Well, he is, but then he’s not. He’s wickedly intelligent, way past the means of any other mma fighter. He’s got degrees in business and arts and god knows what, though Arthur wonders how many of them are real, since Eames is rumored to be some sort of ex-con or something else dangerous and sexy like that. He speaks several languages, probably more than Arthur is aware of. Eames is a force to be reckoned with; the mind of a Harvard professor, and the body of a Greek God. Which, let’s be honest, is mostly the reason Arthur has hung around the gym for so long.
He started coming here in high school, taking judo to help build muscle, But Arthur seems destined for slenderness, because all of the training and fighting hasn’t gotten him over one fifty, even at his full height. Five years later, Arthur’s still around, and Eames is coaching a lot more these days than he is fighting. He blew out a knee at a match in Taiwan, and hasn’t fought professionally since.
Eames is still fucking huge, though. Every bulging muscle is defined like it was carved from marble. To Arthur, Eames is the most gorgeous thing to have ever lived. Arthur is helpless whenever Eames is around, unable to stop himself from reaching out and holding on, to feel those muscles bunch and flex under his palms. Arthur could write odes, fucking epic poems, to those arms, except when they have him pinned down, trapped underneath their bulk, because then Arthur’s brain heads straight south, and words are kind of hard from down there.
So instead of thinking, Arthur just holds on, wraps his long fingers around the tops of Eames’ biceps, because there’s no way in hell he could fit his hands around the whole thing, and just rides the waves of lust like one would ride the surf.
“How about we go back to mine, darling?” Eames purrs, honey dripping from each word, palpable. As if Arthur wasn’t fucked already, Eames is fucking English. If Arthur hadn’t been pinned to the row of lockers, he would have crumpled like a ragdoll at Eames’ voice.
Arthur blinks, until the fog of yes, fuck, more, clears in his head and he can answer properly. “That depends, Mr. Eames.”
Eames groans against Arthur’s neck. “Oh I do love when you call me that. Depends on what, love?”
“On what you plan to do once we’re back at yours.” Arthur knows exactly what Eames intends to do, but this is part of the game they play. They have been seeing each other, pretty exclusively, since the moment Arthur turned eighteen, but neither of them have been brave enough to move past casual dates and hours and hours of fucking.
Instead of answering, Eames hoist Arthur further up the locker, so Arthur could wrap his legs around Eames’ waist, fitting his palms under Arthur’s ass and squeezing. “Okay, okay,” Arthur gasped, pushing against Eames’ shoulders to get some air. “Let’s go, now or else we won’t make it there.”
Once they’re back at Eames’ flat, Arthur hooks his foot behind Eames’ knee once the door is shut, taking them down to the carpet. Arthur could almost take Eames, his speed and agility gives Eames a run for his money on a good day. But again, it’s not part of the game. Arthur loves letting Eames win, letting Eames pin him down. He loves the look Eames gets, dark and lecherous, he loves the feeling of Eames’ bulk pressing him into the floor.
Eames rolls his hips against Arthur, letting him feel Eames’ hard length rub against him. Arthur gasps, arching up to meet him. “Jesus, Eames,” He stutters out. “Just, fuck… I can’t”
“Words, darling. Tell me what you need.”
Arthur gulps in air, but all he can taste is Eames. “Fuck me.” He manages, reaching for Eames when he lets his wrists go. “Please, I need you,”
“Okay,” Eames says before capturing Arthur’s lips. Eames kisses Arthur just the way he needs it, hard and rough and demanding, frantic movements and gasping for breath. Eames eventually slows them down, gentling his touches until Arthur melts back into the carpet, staring up at him with something like wonder.
“C’mon,” Eames stands, holding a hand out for Arthur. He grabs on, and Eames pulls him up and flings him straight over his shoulder, carrying him fireman style back to the bedroom. Arthur bounces on the mattress when Eames tosses him onto it, and Arthur settles back to watch Eames strip down. Arthur likes this part a lot more than is probably healthy. He likes the way Eames’ torso moves when he pulls his shirt over his head.
Eames pauses with his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his shorts.“What?” He chuckles at Arthur, whose mouth is hanging open like a fish. Arthur snaps it shut and shakes his head.
“Here, darling.” Eames hauls him up and leads them over to the full length mirror in the corner of the bedroom. He positions Arthur in front of the mirror, and holy shit, Arthur can see both of Eames’ shoulders behind him in their reflection. Eames wraps his arms around Arthur’s chest and undresses him. Arthur watches Eames’ arms as they flex and move around him, undoing the buttons on his shirt, pushing his pants down his hips. Naked, he looks so small in Eames’ embrace.
“Look at you, Arthur. So beautiful.” Eames croons into his neck, catching his eyes in the mirror. Arthur whines high in his throat when Eames mouths behind his ear, and Eames pulls him closer, flush against his chest. Eames’ chest is hot against Arthur’s back, the press of his skin interrupted by his shorts. Arthur reaches back to tug at them, and Eames chuckles, a low rumble that vibrates through them both. Eames tugs them off, and then he’s back, pressing Arthur to him.
Eames is running his knuckles over the soft skin of Arthur’s belly, inching closer to his cock. It would tickle, if Arthur wasn’t turned on to the point he thinks he’ll explode.
“Eames,” he grunts out. “Don’t tease,”
Eames smiles into Arthur’s neck. “But it’s so much fun, darling.”
Arthur turns in Eames’ arms, clutching at him. “Please, Eames. I need you,”
“Okay, okay,” Eames kisses him then, to calm him. He walks them backward towards the bed, and Arthur crawls onto it while Eames rummages in the bedside drawer. He comes back with lube and condoms. Eames fills the space between Arthur’s legs, and Arthur whines with the anticipation.
Eames’ lubed fingers are cold, always cold, no matter how hard you try, lube will simply not warm up until it’s applied to its intended destination. Eames does that thing again, where he’s almost there, but won’t give Arthur what he wants until he asks.
“Eames, c’mon, please?”
Eames strokes over Arthur’s hole a few more times before pushing two fingers in.
Arthur pushes against him to make it easier, but the burn is still there, a bit. Arthur likes that. Eames strokes him open, massaging with just the two fingers for a bit. His free hand comes up and strokes over Arthur’s stomach. He takes the hand on his stomach away to add more lube, and then he’s pushing in with three fingers. Arthur groans and grinds down onto Eames’ hand.
“Patience, darling.” Eames smiles down at him, and Arthur just wiggles some more. If only he knew just what he did to Arthur, looking so big and gorgeous between Arthur’s legs, the way he makes Arthur fucking need him.
Finally, Eames reaches for a condom, and Arthur takes it from him. “Let me, c’mon.” He pulls open the packet with his teeth, rolls it down over Eames’ cock and adding more lube.
Eames pushes Arthur’s knees up towards his chest and Arthur guides him in. Eames is huge in Arthur’s hands, he feels even larger inside Arthur. Once Eames is fully inside him, his balls brushing Arthur’s ass, Arthur wraps his legs around Eames’ waist and pulls him into him further. Eames groans and lets Arthur take some more of his weight.
Arthur loves the view from where he is, underneath Eames. He looks so huge from this angle, and Arthur does his level best to wrap around him as Eames fucks into him. Arthur looses track of the noises coming from his own mouth, just focusing on Eames around him, in him. Eventually, it becomes too much and Arthur lets go of Eames shoulders and grips himself. Eames leans back and fucks into Arthur harder, his rhythm picking up until Arthur is spilling over his hand. His vision whites out, and when he comes around, Eames is slumped over him, panting hard.
Eames eventually gets up to clean them off, coming back to Arthur with a warm wet cloth. He wipes off Arthur with delicate care (because as big as he is, he would never hurt Arthur, intentionally or not, even though Arthur keeps imagining what it would be like if Eames spanked him.) Eames tosses the used cloth in the direction of the hamper, and then curls around Arthur.
“Stay with me tonight,” He kisses his request over Arthur’s shoulders.
“Okay,” Arthur’s drifting anyway, he might as well. Eames pulls him closer and Arthur lets himself fall asleep against Eames’ chest.
(THard as Bane in Nolan's DKR)
Eames is bigger than Arthur
All images from bina's size kink picspam
In this instance, size kink works best inside a jailbait au. So... here you go:
Title: size kink does not need a title
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Warnings: Arthur/Eames. Age difference(legal),
Summary: All the kinks: a nonsense pwp full of size kink, bb dimpleface, and all of the dirty things we love to see Eames do to Arthur’s bum. And possibly feelings.
Notes: For Bina, again, because nothing says end of the semester like size kink.
Eames isn’t your typical coach. Well, he is, but then he’s not. He’s wickedly intelligent, way past the means of any other mma fighter. He’s got degrees in business and arts and god knows what, though Arthur wonders how many of them are real, since Eames is rumored to be some sort of ex-con or something else dangerous and sexy like that. He speaks several languages, probably more than Arthur is aware of. Eames is a force to be reckoned with; the mind of a Harvard professor, and the body of a Greek God. Which, let’s be honest, is mostly the reason Arthur has hung around the gym for so long.
He started coming here in high school, taking judo to help build muscle, But Arthur seems destined for slenderness, because all of the training and fighting hasn’t gotten him over one fifty, even at his full height. Five years later, Arthur’s still around, and Eames is coaching a lot more these days than he is fighting. He blew out a knee at a match in Taiwan, and hasn’t fought professionally since.
Eames is still fucking huge, though. Every bulging muscle is defined like it was carved from marble. To Arthur, Eames is the most gorgeous thing to have ever lived. Arthur is helpless whenever Eames is around, unable to stop himself from reaching out and holding on, to feel those muscles bunch and flex under his palms. Arthur could write odes, fucking epic poems, to those arms, except when they have him pinned down, trapped underneath their bulk, because then Arthur’s brain heads straight south, and words are kind of hard from down there.
So instead of thinking, Arthur just holds on, wraps his long fingers around the tops of Eames’ biceps, because there’s no way in hell he could fit his hands around the whole thing, and just rides the waves of lust like one would ride the surf.
“How about we go back to mine, darling?” Eames purrs, honey dripping from each word, palpable. As if Arthur wasn’t fucked already, Eames is fucking English. If Arthur hadn’t been pinned to the row of lockers, he would have crumpled like a ragdoll at Eames’ voice.
Arthur blinks, until the fog of yes, fuck, more, clears in his head and he can answer properly. “That depends, Mr. Eames.”
Eames groans against Arthur’s neck. “Oh I do love when you call me that. Depends on what, love?”
“On what you plan to do once we’re back at yours.” Arthur knows exactly what Eames intends to do, but this is part of the game they play. They have been seeing each other, pretty exclusively, since the moment Arthur turned eighteen, but neither of them have been brave enough to move past casual dates and hours and hours of fucking.
Instead of answering, Eames hoist Arthur further up the locker, so Arthur could wrap his legs around Eames’ waist, fitting his palms under Arthur’s ass and squeezing. “Okay, okay,” Arthur gasped, pushing against Eames’ shoulders to get some air. “Let’s go, now or else we won’t make it there.”
Once they’re back at Eames’ flat, Arthur hooks his foot behind Eames’ knee once the door is shut, taking them down to the carpet. Arthur could almost take Eames, his speed and agility gives Eames a run for his money on a good day. But again, it’s not part of the game. Arthur loves letting Eames win, letting Eames pin him down. He loves the look Eames gets, dark and lecherous, he loves the feeling of Eames’ bulk pressing him into the floor.
Eames rolls his hips against Arthur, letting him feel Eames’ hard length rub against him. Arthur gasps, arching up to meet him. “Jesus, Eames,” He stutters out. “Just, fuck… I can’t”
“Words, darling. Tell me what you need.”
Arthur gulps in air, but all he can taste is Eames. “Fuck me.” He manages, reaching for Eames when he lets his wrists go. “Please, I need you,”
“Okay,” Eames says before capturing Arthur’s lips. Eames kisses Arthur just the way he needs it, hard and rough and demanding, frantic movements and gasping for breath. Eames eventually slows them down, gentling his touches until Arthur melts back into the carpet, staring up at him with something like wonder.
“C’mon,” Eames stands, holding a hand out for Arthur. He grabs on, and Eames pulls him up and flings him straight over his shoulder, carrying him fireman style back to the bedroom. Arthur bounces on the mattress when Eames tosses him onto it, and Arthur settles back to watch Eames strip down. Arthur likes this part a lot more than is probably healthy. He likes the way Eames’ torso moves when he pulls his shirt over his head.
Eames pauses with his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his shorts.“What?” He chuckles at Arthur, whose mouth is hanging open like a fish. Arthur snaps it shut and shakes his head.
“Here, darling.” Eames hauls him up and leads them over to the full length mirror in the corner of the bedroom. He positions Arthur in front of the mirror, and holy shit, Arthur can see both of Eames’ shoulders behind him in their reflection. Eames wraps his arms around Arthur’s chest and undresses him. Arthur watches Eames’ arms as they flex and move around him, undoing the buttons on his shirt, pushing his pants down his hips. Naked, he looks so small in Eames’ embrace.
“Look at you, Arthur. So beautiful.” Eames croons into his neck, catching his eyes in the mirror. Arthur whines high in his throat when Eames mouths behind his ear, and Eames pulls him closer, flush against his chest. Eames’ chest is hot against Arthur’s back, the press of his skin interrupted by his shorts. Arthur reaches back to tug at them, and Eames chuckles, a low rumble that vibrates through them both. Eames tugs them off, and then he’s back, pressing Arthur to him.
Eames is running his knuckles over the soft skin of Arthur’s belly, inching closer to his cock. It would tickle, if Arthur wasn’t turned on to the point he thinks he’ll explode.
“Eames,” he grunts out. “Don’t tease,”
Eames smiles into Arthur’s neck. “But it’s so much fun, darling.”
Arthur turns in Eames’ arms, clutching at him. “Please, Eames. I need you,”
“Okay, okay,” Eames kisses him then, to calm him. He walks them backward towards the bed, and Arthur crawls onto it while Eames rummages in the bedside drawer. He comes back with lube and condoms. Eames fills the space between Arthur’s legs, and Arthur whines with the anticipation.
Eames’ lubed fingers are cold, always cold, no matter how hard you try, lube will simply not warm up until it’s applied to its intended destination. Eames does that thing again, where he’s almost there, but won’t give Arthur what he wants until he asks.
“Eames, c’mon, please?”
Eames strokes over Arthur’s hole a few more times before pushing two fingers in.
Arthur pushes against him to make it easier, but the burn is still there, a bit. Arthur likes that. Eames strokes him open, massaging with just the two fingers for a bit. His free hand comes up and strokes over Arthur’s stomach. He takes the hand on his stomach away to add more lube, and then he’s pushing in with three fingers. Arthur groans and grinds down onto Eames’ hand.
“Patience, darling.” Eames smiles down at him, and Arthur just wiggles some more. If only he knew just what he did to Arthur, looking so big and gorgeous between Arthur’s legs, the way he makes Arthur fucking need him.
Finally, Eames reaches for a condom, and Arthur takes it from him. “Let me, c’mon.” He pulls open the packet with his teeth, rolls it down over Eames’ cock and adding more lube.
Eames pushes Arthur’s knees up towards his chest and Arthur guides him in. Eames is huge in Arthur’s hands, he feels even larger inside Arthur. Once Eames is fully inside him, his balls brushing Arthur’s ass, Arthur wraps his legs around Eames’ waist and pulls him into him further. Eames groans and lets Arthur take some more of his weight.
Arthur loves the view from where he is, underneath Eames. He looks so huge from this angle, and Arthur does his level best to wrap around him as Eames fucks into him. Arthur looses track of the noises coming from his own mouth, just focusing on Eames around him, in him. Eventually, it becomes too much and Arthur lets go of Eames shoulders and grips himself. Eames leans back and fucks into Arthur harder, his rhythm picking up until Arthur is spilling over his hand. His vision whites out, and when he comes around, Eames is slumped over him, panting hard.
Eames eventually gets up to clean them off, coming back to Arthur with a warm wet cloth. He wipes off Arthur with delicate care (because as big as he is, he would never hurt Arthur, intentionally or not, even though Arthur keeps imagining what it would be like if Eames spanked him.) Eames tosses the used cloth in the direction of the hamper, and then curls around Arthur.
“Stay with me tonight,” He kisses his request over Arthur’s shoulders.
“Okay,” Arthur’s drifting anyway, he might as well. Eames pulls him closer and Arthur lets himself fall asleep against Eames’ chest.