#collar!kink

[spaceshipsarecool]

That collar kink accidentally gave me bruises on my neck in the shape of the clasp after a good time. But now I'm at work 😭

Clearly that means you have an excuse to expand your turtleneck collection... or just own it and keep the collar on ;P

[spaceshipsarecool]

Mobster Cat Grant and her guard dog.

[aim-e-la]

I imagine Cat to be a sleep talker, so could you maybe write something about Kara sleeping with Cat for the first time and hearing her talk or along those lines?

It was her first night sleeping over at Cat’s home. They had been together a few weeks and, while Kara had gone home with Cat multiple times, she usually left either due to Supergirl stuff, or because they didn’t feel ready. But when Kara was getting ready to head home from work that day, Cat had told her to pack an overnight bag.

She was so excited to be spending the night with her girlfriend and the hero just watched Cat sleep, smiling as she watched her face take on a relaxed feature that she rarely got to see when the older woman was awake.

After a few hours, Kara still was not feeling so tired. Not needing to sleep meant that she spent a lot of nights up late reading, painting, or catching up on tv. But tonight, she just watched her lover sleep. It was then that she heard mumbling coming from the woman next to her. Kara watched and listened eyebrows knit in confusion. “Cat?” she whispered.

Cat rolled closer to Kara in her sleep and mumbled again. “Get back to work, Kiera. Those layouts won’t edit themselves.”

Kara pursed her lips in an attempt to stop herself from chuckling out loud. So Cat Grant was a sleep talker, huh? She smirked, ready to have some fun. “Why should I get back to work when I’m with you?”

Cat grumbled something before responding. “Stop teasing me you oversized puppy and get to work. Don’t make me put a collar on your neck.”

Kara’s eyes went wide and she blushed, understanding exactly what her girlfriend meant. She swallowed hard and asked the sleeping woman, “You have a collar?”

Cat hummed in the affirmative. “In my desk.”

Kara blanched and bit her lip. She then rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, wondering if she should bring this up with Cat the next day. “Oh boy…”

[spaceshipsarecool]

I have written Supercat collar!kink and tattoo!kink, and just when I thought there was no way for me to be any more in love with Cat than I already am, she does math, and that is so incredibly sexy. 

The result:

number!kink... it could be a thing.

[spaceshipsarecool]

I honestly thought I was kink-free! I mean I'm a sex repulsed asexual. But goddamn. You have proven me wrong.

I want to answer this with an Evil Laugh of Corruption, but I have been told repeatedly by many different people that I am too happy and bubbly to pull of evil laughter (or evil anything, really). Instead let me offer you this Happy Dance of Collar!Kink Welcome… except that I can’t dance (at all), and so it’s going to be more of a hopping up and down movement accompanied by giggles…

You know what? Think of Kara’s reaction when she gets the ice cream, that’s my reaction to this message. I would post the clip, but I don’t understand how to make/link gifs, so you’ll just have to picture it :)

[spaceshipsarecool]

Things I never knew I needed: collar!kink. Things I need more of in my life: collar!kink.

It is happening! The rise of the Supercat collar!kink has begun! This is such a beautiful moment… I might cry with joy :) 

[spaceshipsarecool]

I need more collar!kink in my life

I agree! Everyone needs more collar!kink! 

I am so glad that I am getting messages from anons about this now, that means that word is spreading about the necessity of this kink. This fandom already has established pen!kink and praise!kink credited to specific writers, please, please let me be the collar!kink person! Supercat needs more collars, spread the word!

[highermagic]

Anna wanted fic for her art and I took this one and this one and went with it.

Collar!kink, leash!kink, implied cannibalism (if you read the descriptions with the art), blood!play, muzzled!Cas, bottom!Cas, dom!Dean.

"There we go," Dean murmurs, smiling in satisfaction as he taps the muzzle of his gun against the silver set of dog tags dangling around Castiel’s throat. They’re attached to a thick ring of leather, black and sharp lines against Castiel’s tanned skin – it brings out his eyes, Dean thinks, in such a lovely way. "This way I can find ya much easier, Angel."

Castiel hums, tilting his head to one side and grinning wide, before he slips off the side of the bed that had been his perch while Dean attached the extra dog tag, and heads straight for the trench coat draped over the back of the wrecked chairs.

The entire motel room looks like a bomb hit it – there’s blood smeared along the ground and two of the chairs can’t even stand up anymore ‘cause the wood splintered under Castiel’s hands. The only thing to remain unmarred are the two men standing within.

"I’m hungry," Castiel says as he shrugs the coat on, and Dean bares his teeth in a grin and follows him out, leaving the door open and the room untouched just to freak out the cleaning staff.

"Anything you want, baby."

______

"Cas, Goddamnit -.”

"What?" Castiel asks, practically preening under the attention of Dean’s glare, the Hunter white-knuckling the steering wheel as he scans the horizon out to make sure no cars are gonna pass too close and see what’s inside.

Castiel hums, returning his attention to licking the blood off his fingers. It’s distracting. “I was hungry,” he states with an upward shrug of one shoulder, humming again tunelessly as he sucks his fore- and middle finger all the way into his mouth, and Dean’s grip gets tighter on the wheel. Blood and Cas are a deadly combination that gets him every damn time.

"I’m gonna put a fuckin’ muzzle on you one day," he threatens without much heat, and Castiel smiles.

______

"I warned you – I fucking warned you -.”

Castiel looks down, hands gently caressing the bite of metal against his skin. The structure around the lower half of his face is little more than a mesh basket that locks around his nose and under his chin, so opening his mouth at all is a little awkward and difficult, let alone trying to bite. The straps wrap around the back of his head and then hook underneath the collar, tying it all together into some complex restraint, and Castiel lets out a low growl, letting his hands fall again.

"I don’t like it," he mutters, but makes no more move to explore the muzzle around his head or make any attempts to remove it.

"You don’t have to like it," Dean mutters, crouching down in front of Castiel. He cups the Angel’s chin, fingers digging into the mesh to jerk his head to where Dean wants him. The Hunter’s expression is soft, regret deep in his eyes despite the fact that they’re dark, pupils wide with lust at seeing Castiel so willingly restrained. "I am gonna miss that mouth, though."

Castiel’s eyes flash, and Dean can see him bite his lip through the netting. It makes the Hunter groan, averting his eyes, lips thinning out in resolve as he stands and ties the other end of Castiel’s leash to his chair so that he can research in peace.

________

Castiel can’t push his forehead against the sheets with the muzzle on – not that he would be able to, anyway, with Dean’s strong hands, leash wrapped tight, pulling him backwards onto the Hunter’s cock by his neck. The Angel arches, fucking himself back desperately onto Dean’s cock, sure that the good behavior will earn him at least a little respite from the stupid thing.

Spit drips from the netting around the muzzle, Castiel unable to swallow enough when Dean pulls the leash tight and the collar feels like it’s going to choke him. Dean digs his nails into Castiel’s hips, head tilted back as he fucks deep into the Angel, circling his hips once he’s fully inside until he finds that spot that makes the Angel howl.

Castiel’s nails rip through the bedding and the mattress below, fluff flying up around him as he claws at the mattress and tears and rips. Dean laughs at the fluff clinging to Castiel’s hair and his back and reaches forward with one hand, fisting tight in Castiel’s hair and pulling his head back as well.

"Doin’ so good for me, Angel," he growls, voice rough with lust – he’s close, Castiel knows it as sure as he knows his own name. "Try not to rip me up, m’kay?"

Castiel can only howl again as Dean reaches down with his leashed hand, wrapping tight around Castiel’s cock, the harsh difference between leather and skin and too-tight drag around the Angel’s erection enough to send him over the edge with a choked cry of Dean’s name. Dean snarls, teeth sinking into Castiel’s shoulder as the Angel convulses and shudders underneath him with broken, desperate mewls, one hand sunk deep into the mattress, the other shredding a pillow and adding more to the downy mess around them.

Dean chuckles when he comes down, letting the leash fall slack (though it still stays around his hand) and wiping his soiled hand in Castiel’s hair. “Good boy,” he murmurs, pulling out with a slick sound. “Stay.”

Castiel makes a soft noise of acquiescence, boneless and sated, only stirring when he feels Dean’s fingers on the back of his muzzle and then suddenly freedom around his mouth – freedom from the extra warmth of his exhale and the slickness of spit against his jaw.

Dean tilts him towards a chaste kiss, green eyes bright with satisfaction. “This can stay off for now,” he says, tossing the muzzle to the ground by the bed. “But as soon as you slip up again, it goes back on.”

Castiel nods, nuzzling under Dean’s chin against his throat. “I understand, Dean.”

Warm, strong arms wrap around the Angel’s body, pulling him tightly to Dean’s chest. He can feel the leash in Dean’s fist pressed into his back, smiling at the reminder that he can’t go anywhere without Dean realizing he’s trying.

Not that he would. He rubs his stubble-rough cheek against Dean’s chest and lets sleep overtake him.