#and cas would have kissed the duck out of him
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dean would have whispered that first " i love you too", his voice breaking a little, right in cas' ear while holding him so tight
#destiel#then he would have moved back and ask cas where he wanted to go from there#what do you want to do now?#and cas would have kissed the duck out of him
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Second Choices
Pairing: Cassian x Reader
Masterlist
A/N: I hope this makes sense lol. I opened my planning doc for the next part of Triad, read the three sentences I had written there, and then closed it and went back to a random drabble in my notes app that exploded into this. So… enjoy, I guess? There will be three parts of this total, so click here to be added to the taglist to be notified when those go live!
Warnings: Angst, drinking, drug use (slightly forced, if you squint?), a little hint of smut at the end but it doesn't progress very far
“Y/N is a bitch,” Braelie whined, voice echoing out from the restroom’s open door. Mor sighed, snapped the cap back onto her signature red lip gloss, then turned towards Cassian’s female-du-jour. She was pretty, in an artificial sort of way. Her foundation, a shade too light, was caked on with a thick layer of matte powder that swallowed the light when it hit her face, leaving her skin dull and sullen. The dark eye makeup and too-bright lipstick made her look like a doll, and not the kind for children.
“Listen, Brae,” Mor hoped that using a nickname would soften the major blow she was about to land. She reached out and laid a light, comforting hand onto one bony shoulder. “Y/N and Cassian have been friends for a long time. I won’t lie to you, sometimes the lines get blurred when they’re both single. She’s probably having some complicated feelings, since you’re so pretty,” Mor rushed to add that last part when Braelin’s lower lip wobbled. Then she prayed to the Mother for your forgiveness and said, lowering her voice to a whisper, “she’s probably just jealous.”
That put a spark back into Braelie’s eyes, and Mor cringed. She added Cassian to her list of prayers as Braelie flounced away in search of him.
Cassian hovered with his hand on the doorknob, ready to duck out the side door to sneak in a quick smoke break while Braelie freshened up with Mor.
Braelie was hot, sure, but Cauldron she was dumb. If Cassian had to hear the words, “wait, really?” one more time, he might not make it long enough to get her into his bed tonight. Just a few puffs of mirthroot would dull the edges of his brain enough to find her cluelessness endearing.
She wasn’t the most exciting company, but she was reliable, and he needed that. He’d broken things off with Skyla three weeks earlier and knew that he was dangerously close to doing the one thing he wore he’d stop doing, so he went out one night, alone, and found Braelie.
After overhearing Mor’s words, he felt guilt roiling deep in his gut. So he smoked half a joint and headed back inside. He danced with her and thought of you. Walked her home and thought of you. She invited him in for a drink and pressed her too-pink lips against his.
He thought of you.
Afterward, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and waited until her breathing slowed before sneaking out through the window. He shoved off of the sill and let his wings fully expand, catching the wind and sending him soaring into the early morning sky.
—
You hadn’t meant for Cassian’s latest fling to overhear you calling her a “Cauldron-damned floozy,” but it had happened anyway.
“She’s soooooo annoyingggg,” you slurred, taking another swig from the wine glass in your hand. You let your head fall back until it landed on Azriel’s shoulder. He chuckled and you felt his shadows nipping at your cheeks, lightly scolding you for being bitchy. They tickled like tiny, ice-cold kisses, but that wasn’t enough to stop you. “Seriously, Az. I dunno what Cas sees in her. She’s just another Cauldron-damned floozy, good for keeping his bed warm and not much else.”
Mor had managed to redirect Braelie towards the restrooms after that, leaving you alone in the booth with Az, completely oblivious.
Azriel’s shadows had alerted him to her presence, and a smirk graced his lips. He sensed some major drama brewing and relished in his position at the sidelines.
“Why, Y/N, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you sound jealous,” he drawled. You let your head loll to the side so you could glare at him, which coaxed a bark of laughter from his lips.
—
The first coherent thought you had the next morning was water. I need water. You dragged yourself out of bed and trudged into the bathroom, gulping mouthful after mouthful straight from the faucet.
But water could only do so much for a hangover, so you threw a robe over your pajamas and tiptoed down the Townhouse stairs. It was nearing noon but, based on the disheveled state everyone had returned in last night, you didn’t want to risk waking anyone and incurring their hungover wrath.
Outside the kitchen, you heard low, muffled voices and paused to listen before entering. Mother forbid you end up interrupting Cassian and Braelie’s post-coital feast. Cauldron, even her name was annoying.
“I just don’t understand why Y/N would say something like that,” you heard Cassian say, wincing as memories from last night flooded your brain.
“Look, Y/N’s your best friend, I’m sure she’s just feeling put out now that you’re spending so much time with Braelie,” Az said, careful to keep his tone neutral.
“Well she doesn’t have to be such a bitch about it.”
You turned away and snuck back up the stairs to change into real clothes, deciding that breakfast at your favorite cafe was in order. Preferably paired with a mimosa or five.
—
Az sighed and took a sip of tea to buy himself some time to think. He’d stayed up with Mor until sunrise, talking about their clueless friends.
While your comments about Cassian’s love life had been funny the first few times, after more than three decades, it was getting old. They recognized a pattern repeating itself ad nauseam; Cassian gets a new girlfriend, you distance yourself from him and start grumbling about the girls’ flaws, then when Cas eventually dumped her you’d be back to being best friends like no time had passed at all. And if you both happen to be single, well, sometimes after smoking too much mirthroot you’d end up all over each other. In a friendly way, of course.
This time, though, you’d been much more open about your hatred for Braelie despite the fact that she was one of the more tolerable ‘floozies’ they’d had to deal with over the years. She was dumb but harmless, and soon enough Cassian would tire of her, resetting the cycle once again.
So they’d decided to divide and conquer; Mor was going to try and get it through your thick skull that you’re in love with Cas, while Az was tasked with showing the General what was right in front of him.
Easier said than done. So he decided to go for the jugular.
“Well, it’s not like you have the best track record with females. Maybe Y/N’s gotten tired of playing nice when you’ve got someone new on your arm every other week.”
“Last I checked that wasn’t a crime.”
Az held his hands up, raising one eyebrow at Cas.
“Don’t shoot the messenger. If it’s really bothering you, why don’t you talk to her? I’m sure if you asked her to lay off Braelie she would.”
Cas ducked his head to hide the heat rushing to his face and mumbled something incoherent into his chest.
“Sorry, brother, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of my shadows laughing at your blush.”
“I broke up with her this morning,” Cas growled, tightening his grip on the mug in his fist.
Azriel cackled, laughter only growing louder when Cas glared at him.
“It’s not funny,” Cas insisted, launching his teaspoon over the table. Az’s shadows caught it before it could make contact, turning Cas’s glare into a downright glower.
“Alright, alright, it’s not funny. You’re just predictable, that’s all.”
After stewing in silence for a few minutes, Cas felt his self control crumbling. Words bubbled up from his chest, through his throat, and then he was rambling.
“I overheard Mor telling Braelie that Y/N was jealous of her,” he pushed his chair back and started pacing back and forth across the kitchen. “And at first I thought, no way, that’s crazy, if Y/N was jealous I would know. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. She always gets weird whenever I’m dating someone, right?”
“Maybe you should talk to her about it,” Az suggested, leaning back in his seat. Just a friend offering a casual, off-the-cuff solution to a problem he knows nothing about.
“Yeah, maybe…”
—
Mor tracked you down later that afternoon, sprawled out on a blanket next to the Sidra and halfway through a bottle of vintage red imported from the Summer Court.
“Heyyy,” you greeted her, pushing yourself up into a sitting position and holding the bottle out towards your friend. “Come to join the pity party?”
Mor eyed you, curiosity and amusement sparking behind her honey brown eyes, and she accepted your offering.
“And why are we having a pity party?” she asked, plopping down next to you and taking a long pull from the bottle.
“Cause I fuck everything up, duh.” You flopped back down, this time onto your stomach. “Cassian hates me, but whatever. I’m sure he and Braelie are going to be very happy together.”
Mor had to force her eyes not to roll at your drunken dramatics.
“I’m gonna find a boyfriend, that way when they break up Cas can’t come crawling back to me with his dick in his hand. See how he likes it.” You made grabby hands for the bottle but Mor shook her head, keeping it held just out of your reach.
“Or you could try telling him how you feel?” She suggested, casually, as she took another sip.
You scoffed, hiccuping giggles following as you struggled to keep your composure as mixed emotions ebbed and flowed through your body.
“Tell him how I feel? Should I tell him it makes my skin itch whenever he dances with another girl? Tell him that I haven’t been able to finish with anyone else since the first time he fucked me? Or maybe I should tell him that he’s my mate, good idea, Mor. Maybe that will make him fall in love with me!”
Mor let her eyes roll this time, patting you on the back. But when you flipped onto your back, she saw the pain and longing etched into the lines on your face and stared deep into your eyes, waiting for you to laugh and say it was just a joke.
Unease settled in her stomach.
“Wait, you’re serious, aren’t you?” she asked.
“He’s my Cauldron-damned mate, and he doesn’t even know it. He’s too busy burying himself in the hordes of females fawning all over him to notice how much it hurts.”
“Y/N…how long have you known?”
“Four years,” you whispered, throwing an arm over your eyes to hide your tears from your oldest friend.
“Oh, babe,” she sighed, tugging you up into her arms. The dam behind your eyes broke and sobs wracked your body while the gears in Mor’s brain started turning.
When you finally settled in her lap, tears dried up, she hauled you to your feet. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”
All you managed to mutter was, “Not the Townhouse,” before she winnowed you away.
—
Cassian dodged Azriel’s attempts at cheering him up in favor of sulking at the kitchen table all day, waiting for you to wake up.
When it was nearing dinner time, he sighed and put together a tray of tea and pastries to bring up to you as a peace offering. But after knocking politely on your door for five minutes straight, worry started worming its way into his stomach and he threw open the door to reveal your bed, perfectly made and empty.
“Fuck,” he growled, throwing the tray down the hallway where it crashed against the wall, broken bits of pottery clattering to the ground. He’d wasted all day waiting for you when you were out doing Mother knows what with Mother knows who.
Screw apologies, he was on a warpath now.
He trekked through the busy streets of Velaris looking for any sign of you, starting at Amren’s apartment and making his way through your favorite shops and restaurants with no success. Just when he was about to give up, assuming you were holed up with a male somewhere, he saw Mor ducking into one of the small cafes near the Sidra.
“Mor!” he shouted, jogging to catch the door before it closed behind her. She turned around, and a look of shock flashed across her face before it smoothed into cool indifference.
“Cassian,” she said, nodding at him before turning to the hostess stand. “I’m here to pick up a takeout order for Morrigan.”
The hostess nodded and disappeared into the kitchen to grab the food. Cas reached out and grabbed Mor’s wrist, tugging her around to face him.
“Where is she?” he asked, barely able to contain the rage flowing through his veins.
“Not now, Cas,” Mor sighed, wrenching her arm from his grasp. “Trust me. Just give her some space.”
“I can’t,” he growled, siphons glowing as if they were attempting to warn her that his magic was sizzling just beneath the surface. It felt like something was pulling him along, the desire to find you growing stronger the longer he looked. “I need to find her. Please, Mor.”
The hostess came back and handed a bag to Mor, who promptly turned around and dumped it into Cas’s arms.
“Fine, then you can take this up to the House of Wind for me. I have some errands to run, you have an hour.” Cas’s face relaxed and he nodded, about to open his mouth to thank her when she waved a hand at him to dismiss him.
But when they were back outside, she turned around to flash a sickly sweet smile at him.
“Oh, and Cassian?” His eyes widened as he froze in place, wings spread and ready to take off. “If you hurt her, I will feed you to Bryaxis.”
With that, she disappeared and Cassian took to the skies wondering what would be waiting for him when he arrived.
—
On the back deck of the House of Wind, you stood leaning against the railing, music swirling around you as you watched the sun sink behind the buildings of Velaris below. Lights blinked on one by one until the whole city was filled with twinkling stars.
With a joint in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, your mind was finally, blissfully, numb. Only the subtle ache deep in your core served as a reminder of your unfortunate situation, but even that was starting to dull.
Of course, your peaceful night had to be ruined by the one male you had no desire to see. The sound of flapping wings and rushing of air past your face gave you a split-second warning, and then Cassian dropped to the ground behind you.
You turned around and held the hand with the joint lazily balanced between two fingers at your forehead.
“General Bloodshed, or whatever the fuck,” you said, wobbling on unsteady feet as you saluted him. Then you lowered your hand and took a long drag, holding the smoke in your lungs for as long as physically possible before letting it out in a steady stream pointed in his direction. “Come to fight for your fair maiden’s honor, or just to rub it in my face that you’re getting laid and you don’t need me anymore?”
“Y/N,” he said, all the anger draining from his body as he took in the bags under your eyes and the heavy winter clothes hanging off your frame even though Summer was right around the corner. It was like he was seeing you for the first time after a long mission away, noticing how much weight you’d lost, how tired your body looked.
He set the food down on one of the lounge chairs and took slow, careful steps towards you.
“Y/N,” he repeated, “What’s going on?”
“Nothin’, Cassie, nothin’ at all,” you said, pausing to hiccup before continuing. “I don’t care about Braelie, I don’t care about you, I don’t care about anything.” You thrust your arms out wide and turned to face the sunset, which was now casting a golden glow onto Velaris. “I’ve got a hot date with my fingers later, and I probably won’t even think about you.”
Cas ignored the heat flaring up low in his belly at the mental image that flashed behind his eyes.
“Hey,” he whispered, coming up next to you and prying the joint from your hand. “Gimme that.”
You turned to face him, lower lip stuck out in a pout.
“Why? So you can leave me here and go get high with Braelie? I bet she’s real mouthy. You like em loud, don’t you? Like when females beg for that big Illyrian cock?”
Your voice got higher and higher, becoming breathless as you rambled on, letting all of your deepest, darkest, pent-up thoughts and feelings fall from your lips. Even though you knew you’d regret it in the morning, in the moment it felt so good to let them go.
“Y/N, stop, just take a breath. I’m not going to leave you, okay!” Cassian stubbed out the joint and tossed it aside, putting his hands on your shoulders to force you to look at him. “I’m not going to see Braelie, I broke up with her this morning.”
Your eyes glazed over as you looked him up and down, a lazy smirk blooming on your lips.
“Ohhhh, I see how it is,” you drawled, waving a hand to summon the joint to you. Snapping your fingers to spark it back to life, you took another deep hit and then stuffed the unlit end into Cas’s mouth. He tried to protest but you held firm until he finally inhaled. Its effects hit immediately, and you watched as his shoulders drooped, muscles relaxing. With a wicked grin, you dropped from his loosened grip to your knees, palming his dick through his leathers. “Want me to kiss it better, put your broken heart back together?”
A war waged behind Cas’s eyes; on the one hand, the mirthroot was clouding his judgment and lust threatened to take over at the sight of you looking up at him with wide eyes.
On the other hand, he had set out to make things right, to talk to you and figure out the true nature of your feelings for him. Sleeping with you would send the wrong message.
“Y/N, stop,” he grunted, pulling his hips back and shoving your hand away.
“What?” you asked, your pout back in full force. “Want me to beg for it first, cause you know I will? Know I’ll give you anything you want?” You shoved yourself up to your feet, pushing onto your tiptoes so your narrowed eyes bore right into Cassian’s.
He felt the tension that had been building all day melt away—the anger, the frustration, the confusion—all of it was gone with a snap of golden magic that flooded his body.
You felt it, too, from your side of the bond, could see the moment it registered behind those hazel eyes. It felt like the bond was on your side, snapping just in time to help you prove a point.
“I’m done being your second choice, mate,” you snarled, plucking the joint from his hand before turning around and stalking into the house, leaving him stranded alone in the darkness.
#acotar imagine#acotar headcanon#acotar fanfiction#acotar fanfic#cassian x reader#cassian x you#cassian#cassian imagine#cassian imagines#cassian fanfiction#cassian fanfic#cassian acotar#imagine#imagines#angst#imaginesandbandfiction
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In the dream, Dean walked through the bunker, or a facsimile of it, the hallways' angles not quite true, the rooms not quite plumb. His hands were bloody the first time he looked down at them, dusty the second time. It took him long minutes to walk up the metal staircase because there were twice as many steps as usual, with a curling ascent that made him a little dizzy. The heavy door was hard to open. With his weight against it, it opened with an echoing thunk; he fell into a field of knee-high grass and chicory as blue as Cas's eyes.
An empty field. His palms were still ashen.
The sorrow that tore through his body woke him more than the fall did. He blinked up at the wooden beams hatched across the farmhouse bedroom ceiling and tried to catch his breath. A tear slid down into his right ear and made him flinch. After a few swallows, he sat up and stretched. Rubbed his eyes dry. Noticed a strange brightness flaring around the perimeter of the bedroom's window curtain and let the ache behind his ribcage fade.
His feet registered the chill of the floor before the rest of him did and he skipped over to the window on tiptoe. With the curtain open the source of the light proved to be dawn illuminating the skim of snow atop everything in the yard – a powdered sugar dusting, surprising only because 24 hours ago it'd been 60F degrees outside.
He was gargling mouthwash when elsewhere in the house it sounded like someone was fighting off ninjas with a cookie sheet.
"You okay?" Dean asked at the kitchen doorway.
Cas, startled, dropped a metal pie plate (again) and groaned. "I'm sorry." He picked up the wayward pan and inspected it for dents before putting it firmly on the counter. "I didn't mean to wake you." He turned to give a more settled smile. "Hello, Dean."
Dean snuck in and wrapped Cas up in a hug before he could move away. "Good morning," he whispered into Cas's soft hair.
"Happy birthday," Cas said, his voice still smiling. He pulled back enough to look up at Dean, typical earnestness all over his face. "I guess my surprise won't be much of one now."
Dean blinked as the pie plate suddenly made sense. "Are you making me pie?" Delight bubbled up in his chest as Cas mouthed yes; Dean let his hands slide to Cas's waist and held on, anchoring himself there.
Cas ducked his head. "I was going to try." He glanced at a cookbook cracked open on the nearby table where they usually drank coffee and watched the sun rise, and beside it a bowl, a stick of butter, the canister labeled 'flour' and the canister labeled 'sugar', three loose eggs, a big wooden spoon, and a bag of nutmeats.
"Pecan. My favorite." Dean kissed the side of Cas's head. "Would you like some help?"
After a pause, Cas said, "No." He didn't sound sure of the answer. "It's your birthday. You should take the day off. I can manage." His hands on Dean's chest were another anchor.
"It is my birthday, so I think I should get to choose how to spend the morning." Dean quirked an eyebrow the way Cas often did when he was being bossy. "And I would like to help you make the best pecan pie either of us has ever eaten." He let his expression sweeten as a flush crept across Cas's cheeks. "Please."
Cas nodded, eyes shining. Dean gathered him into his arms again because he could. He was 45 years old and holding the love of his life in their tiny kitchen with the oven ticking, with snow sparkling through the windows. They were living their small, precious lives together in freedom, in peace (what 45 years had taught Dean the hard way: they could have both) and there was nothing empty about it.
They stood swaying sleepily for a couple of minutes before the desire for pie, and other things, started to eat away at Dean's brain. Low at Cas's ear, he said, "You know, pecan pie is best served room temp. We'll need to let it cool down after it's out of the oven before we can cut into it. Might take an hour."
"We haven't even started–"
"I'm just saying," Dean continued, "we'll need to find something else to do with ourselves in a little while." He cleared his throat. "Some way to pass the time."
Cas tipped his head up. "I don't think figuring that out will be an issue," he murmured, and pressed closer.
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reader pronouns: unspecified :)
Cas couldn't stop staring at you as you sat by the window, watching patiently for the target to appear across the street. Perhaps now wasn't the time... but he felt like if he didn't do it now, didn't know when he may have another opportunity to be alone with you. He cleared his throat and you glanced over at the noise. He took a hesitant step toward you. "Y/N—I—I think I need to speak with you about something..."
One of your eyebrows quirked up. "You think you do?" you said with a crooked half-smile that already had his palms sweating. He wiped them on his trench coat as subtly as possible, hoping you didn't notice.
"No, I—I do need to. I'm sorry. I'm just... nervous," he managed.
Your expression softened and was warm as you peered back at him, nodding. "Okay. It's okay, Cas. You can talk to me about anything. What's up?" You'd turned away from the window now and fully faced him.
The angel gulped. "Look, I—I don't want to make things awkward between us, but—I have feelings for you. Of—of the romantic sort... and I can't keep pretending I don't. I'm sorry if this isn't—isn't something you want, but I have feelings for you. I'm sorry." He ducked his gaze down toward the floor, hiding his blue eyes from you.
For a moment there was a long silence. You were trying to get over your shock at his sudden, blatant assertion. Cas was paralyzed, almost in utter terror at what your response would be. He was not expecting what you said.
You sighed and let out a nervous laugh. "Thank god. I was starting to think it was just me!"
Cas's blue eyes shot up to your face and then narrowed in disbelief. "Wait—What? You're... why are you smiling? You're not—disgusted?"
You stared back at him, completely perplexed. "Disgusted? Cas, you thought I'd be disgusted? I'm over the moon with happiness! You have no idea how long I've been waiting and hoping to hear you say that!"
Cas gulped again, but visibly brightened. "R—really?"
You were grinning at him. "Yes," you laughed. "For ages and ages. I'm so beyond happy." You stepped close to the angel and gently grabbed the front of his trench coat. "Can I—can I kiss you?" you asked him.
Cas glanced side to side around the room briefly. "Is—is this the proper venue?" Another laugh bubbled up out of you. "I mean—I'd very much like to—to kiss you but this doesn't seem—"
"Cas," you cooed. "Stop thinking so much, and kiss me."
And he did.
#castiel imagines#castiel x reader#cas x reader#cas x you#cass x y/n#supernatural fluff#castiel fluff#spn imagines#gif imagines#fanfiction
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Sensitive Intel
Tangerine x Reader
A/N- This was going to be short… Anyways! I have a couple asks waiting and I will def get to them I just got struck w an idea and wanted to write it quick :)
Warnings- Smut, language, canon divergence
Summary- Tangerine’s charm wildly derails you from your mission to steal his and his brother’s case. Or, rather, he rails you.
•
The knife he holds presses slightly deeper into your throat.
“Come on darling, tell me where you stashed the case.”
His front presses to yours as his knee slides between your legs. You shudder.
You’ve been on the train for hours, assigned to steal a briefcase from the twins and exit the train. Of course, whenever your assignments involve the twins, things tend to go off the rails.
Ever since Lemon and Tangerine realized the case was gone, they’ve been following you from car to car, trying to stop you from leaving with it.
So here you are hours later, finally caught by Tangerine. His body cages you against the bathroom wall as he holds a knife to your throat.
You’ve had run ins with the twins in the past. You’d be a fool if you denied being attracted to Tangerine. Tangerine would never tell Lemon, but the more missions you encounter each other on, the more he wants you.
You look up into his eyes, his face is angry, but his eyes are different. You don’t dwell on it, your stop is coming up and if you can keep Tangerine from slitting your throat, you can get off of this train.
You spit in his face, hoping to catch him off-guard. He recoils, flinching backwards a bit, taking the knife with him. You try to duck under him, but he grabs you around your waist and pulls you to him, you back flush with his front.
“Now that was a right fucking mistake, love.” His mouth is right behind your ear, making you shiver as he threatens you. You feel something hard pressing into your back.
“Come on now love, tell me where the case is and I’ll give you what you want.” His hands unwrap from around your waist, sliding down your sides and settling on the curve of your hips. He kisses the side of your neck. The bathroom walls feel like they’re closing in. It’s like the room is shrinking and you and Tangerine are the only things occupying the space.
“Fuck me and I’ll tell you after.” You manage to fire back.
“No no no, you know that’s not how this works.” he gently bites at your ear. He’s evil, you think. Why else would he enjoy doing this to you?
“Behind the bar. In the third cabinet over.” You sigh.
“Wasn’t so hard, was it princess?” He pulls away. He turns you so that you’re now against the wall again, and begins to unbutton your shirt, revealing your bra. He kisses down your front as you undo the button on his pants. He gently pushes you down to your knees, encouraging you to take his cock out of his pants.
As you begin to go down on him, he throws his head back, hand covering his mouth to keep from moaning. He places his hand on the back of your head as you continue, bunching your hair into a makeshift ponytail, further encouraging you to keep going.
“All right, let me fuck ya before I finish down your fucking throat.” He sighs as he guides you back up from the floor, hand still tangled in your hair. He kisses you roughly as he pushes your bottoms down, only breaking the kiss to slip them off your ankles. Jerking himself a couple of times, he lines himself up with your entrance and slowly works himself in. He looks at you for confirmation that you’re ready for him to move, and then begins to rock into you. You moan and he slaps his hand over your mouth.
“Be fuckin’ quiet love. Could be people right outside, yeah? Want them to hear me fucking you? S’that it?” It’s all you can do to stare at him with wild eyes from behind his hand. You feel your orgasm beginning to grow in your stomach as he continues to fuck into you. As his thrusts become faster and rougher, you can tell he is going to cum. His hand drops from your mouth, and gravitates to the back of your head.
“Go on and cum for me. I can feel it.” As you reach your peak, he guides your head to his, kissing you passionately. As your orgasm subsides, you feel him pull out and stroke himself onto your thighs. He leans forward, resting his head on your shoulder as he catches his breath.
Looking up, he wets a paper towel from the dispenser within arm’s reach. He gently wipes your thighs off, then with one more kiss, he reaches for the door handle.
“Thanks for your help, love. By the way, you missed your stop.” With a wink he disappears from the door, leaving you reeling from what just happened.
#tangerine x reader#bullet train x reader#bullet train#bullet train x y/n#bullet train x you#lemon and tangerine#tangerine bullet train#tangerine x oc#tangerine x y/n#tangerine x you
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tags: fem read, sfw, no warnings, religion mentioned @prettyboykatsuki for the idea!
synopsis: your love is god - what else would he pray to ?
It is known that Kunigami Rensuke hates interviews - when the game is over and the reporters rush to the sidelines, it’s almost comical how the 6ft man runs as far away as he can from the onslaught of microphones and cameras. Usually, he can usually throw his teammates under the rug and let those who enjoy the spotlight soak it up as he drinks his fill. If you were to ask Kunigami why he hates interviews he couldn’t give you a reason. He just doesn’t like them when his job is to play and represent his country on the international level not to answer questions that slowly but surely become invasive gossip. It isn’t what he was broken and remade to do but it seems today he can’t sneak off like he usually can - his teammates clabber onto him, tugging him back to the rounds of reports which look at him with eager eyes.
With one last glare to his team that only grinned from behind him, his eyes turned to meet the reporter in front of him - a nice-looking woman with dyed blonde hair and wide eyes.
“S-so Kunigami, you were great out there today! However, your fans have noticed that you have a rather unusual pre-game ritual - are you religious?” The question makes him do a double take and then blank. What on earth is she talking about? His hair had grown out again, it shadows his eyes and he assumed it makes his blank stare look like a glowering glare as the reporter swallows and explains herself.
“You see, um many fans have noticed that before you head to the field or when you are lined up you bring a necklace to your face and kiss it - this is more commonly found in catholic players and we are wondering if you are that sort of player?” Kunigami tilts his head, pondering over her words as his hand comes up to feel the object across his neck that is tucked under his jersey. He knows what she means, it must look like that from the outside and he can’t help but laugh under his breath about what it is he is truly doing.
“No, I’m not religious. What I am kissing is this,” he paused to untuck the object around his neck - a locket on a thick chain that he hopes he can trade out for something thinner down the line. A smooth silver locket, it doesn’t have much ornate engraving outside of the kanji for love on it. The idea of him kissing a cross makes him laugh - why would he be praying to something he does not know the validity of its existence, when he can believe in you instead.
His hands look huge in comparison to the dainty thing and he opens it with such care it’s baffling to see it from a man like him. The locket opens and inside are pictures of you from your third anniversary, you look beautiful like the sun. As Kunigami gazes at the picture of you he doesn’t recognize the fact that many others are on his face - his teammates shiver in both awe and in fear. Never before had they seen such a gentle expression on his face and it both left in awe yet frightened them.
“It's my girl, I wear it every game for luck. It’s worked so far.” Is all he says before he excuses him from the reports and begins his way to the locker rooms. He wants to shower and change, wants to go on his phone and hear about your day. The adrenaline has worn off and his bones ache.Swatting away his teammates that buzz around him like flies, clambering away asking question after question about you - When did you meet? How old are you? How long have you been together? All of it is an annoyance he lets drip down his back like water off a duck’s wing as he settles through his routine.
It isn’t until he gets to his phone does he smile the same way - soft and gentle at your text message. It reads - “help me pick which photo to put in the locket so we match.” Pictures from over the years; your graduation dinner, pictures from your friend’s wedding and his pictures from your third anniversary. He picks the latter and grins when you call him sweet.
Yeah, only for you and the love you share.
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Dean isn’t exactly sure why he kisses Cas. He’s been trying to keep that shit in. Besides, it’s not his fault the angel is so damn irresistible. This would happen to anyone.
The Hunt had been a rare easy one. Spirits are high. They’re in the Impala in a McDonald’s parking lot. They’re waiting on Sam and Jack to come back with the food. It’s just past 2am, and there’s only 3 other cars in the lot with them. Big flakes of snow are beginning to fall, twisting and spinning in the streetlights. It’s sticking, and the dark parking lot begins to be covered in white. The world feels empty and small. It’s peaceful.
Dean feels like he’s where he’s supposed to be.
There’s a lull in the conversation, and Cas is staring contentedly out the windshield. His shoulders are relaxed and his back is fully resting against the seat. Dean follows his gaze, and he’s looking at Jack through the glass doors. An unexpected strong happiness strikes through Dean. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky to have this—to have a family. He’s the least deserving of it, but he’s wanted this so badly for as long as he can remember.
When he looks back at Cas, Cas is already staring at him. His expression is soft and fond and a little wistful. His eyes are shining while he wears one of his rare small smiles.
He’s breathtaking.
They’re close. It somehow feels closer than usual. Dean can feel the heat of Cas right next to him. The angel’s lips are right there. How is Dean supposed to resist?
So he doesn’t. He leans into the small space between them and brushes his lips against Cas’.
And then Dean’s brain catches up to him, and he pulls away just as he feels Cas’ stuttered breath ghosting across his own lips. But he doesn’t get far because Cas chases after him. One of his hands cups the back of Dean’s neck, and Dean helplessly leans forward.
Cas is ready for him this time. His lips are open and wet. Their lips slide against each other, and Dean grabs Cas’ lapels to try and pull him impossibly closer. Cas’ hand on Dean’s neck moves up and tangles in his hair.
Dean’s never had a kiss like this. He’s never kissed someone he’s loved this much.
It’s timeless. He doesn’t know how much time has passed. He becomes lost in the taste and feel of Cas. Dean eventually has to pull back for air, but he feels the remainder of his breath leave him when he looks at Cas.
Cas’ hand moves out of his hair to press his palm on Dean’s cheek. He’s looking at Dean like…like…like he lo—
Heat builds behind Dean’s eyes, and he has to look away. He’s not about to cry after a single kiss. He swallows and blinks and then he’s locking eyes with someone.
Jack.
He’s still inside standing by the counter next to Sam waiting to get their order. Sam’s on his phone, his backed turned to Dean. But Jack. Oh, Jack definitely saw that. The kid is fucking beaming.
Dean says, voice hoarse, “Jack saw that.” He sees Cas turn out of the corner of his eye.
“O-oh.”
And, fuck, Cas sounds breathless.
From the kiss.
From Dean.
And it’s all a little much at once, and Dean can’t fight the random giggle that bubbles out of him.
“Dean?”
Dean hears himself say, “We kissed.” And then he’s blushing and ducking his head like he’s fucking fifteen. He chances a glance at Cas who’s grinning down at his hands in his lap, and his cheeks look just as pink as Dean’s feel.
Impulsively, Dean reaches over to squeeze one of Cas’ hands. Cas latches on, and Dean darts his eyes up to be greeted with Cas’ blue ones. He can’t stop smiling.
Then one of the back doors opens quickly followed by the other. The cold snowy air gets inside, and Sam is shoving Dean’s food up to him. He has to let Cas’ hand go to grab it. As he reaches for the food, he meets Jack’s eyes, and the kid shoots him the happiest grin. Dean can’t fight the responding blush and quickly grabs the food and turns back around.
The conversation begins again, but he and Cas keep shooting secret smiles at each other.
He may not know where this is going or exactly what it all means yet, but Dean is so fucking glad he kissed Cas.
#daily drabble#supernatural#spn#dean winchester#castiel#destiel#destiel first kiss#destiel drabble#destiel oneshot#deancas#text post
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Chapter 3 [Read Here]
HEAVYWEIGHT
a deancas boxing au by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0)
read from beginning | playlist | ko-fi
SUMMARY: Brooklyn, 1927. The Golden Age of Boxing. Two years ago, light heavyweight champion Dean Winchester and heavyweight champion Castiel Novak had a secret affair. After a scandal tarnished Cas’ name and stripped him of his title, the two parted ways. Now, with a heavyweight tournament on the horizon, Dean aims to up his weight class so he can compete for the title. He finds unexpected competition when Cas comes out of retirement and returns to New York to fix his reputation. Upon their reunion, the two contenders learn that, outside of the ring, some bruises never really heal.
PREVIEW:
“How does it feel to be the talk of the town?” he asked, tucking himself against Dean’s side and resting his arm over Dean’s stomach. On his walk over to the hotel, there had been chatter on every block, people bundled in coats excitedly relaying Dean’s victory.
Dean snorted. “Shouldn’t you know the answer to that already?”
Castiel was used to reading about his triumphs in the paper, even if he’d recently been trying to avoid the articles. His name in lights on marquees felt dimmer these past months; the cheers of the crowd rang hollow in his ears. But none of that mattered. Tonight was about Dean.
He raised a brow, awaiting Dean’s answer.
Dean’s grin brightened once more. He folded his warm hand over Castiel’s on his stomach. “I’m tellin’ you, man, I think this could be the one. This could put me on the map.”
Castiel tried to take everything in at once: the way Dean’s face shone, the love-bitten swell of his lips, the bruises that somehow only extenuated how handsome he was. His strength, both inside and out.
“You deserve it.”
A blush came to Dean’s ears as he ducked his eyes, as if what Castiel had just said was a flirtation instead of the truth.
“I mean it, Dean,” Castiel said. “You’ve worked hard for this moment.” He lifted Dean’s hand up and massaged his tender knuckles in slow circles. Dean’s hands always cramped up after a fight.
Dean hmphed, brushing off the praise, but his cheeks were still crimson. He cleared his throat. “It’ll just be good not to have to worry about ending up on the streets—especially with the cost of Sam’s schooling. Bet you’re relieved you won’t have to sink any more of your hard-earned cash into any of that.”
Hard-earned. The words made Castiel as cold as the snow again. He averted his eyes down to their conjoined hands. He collected himself and said, “I’ve told you, I want to help.”
It was worth it, he reminded himself. Dean was worth it. And Dean never had to know the truth about Castiel’s winnings. He didn’t have to know about Luc’s deals or the crooked judges and referees or the palming of money by officials at tournaments to keep Castiel’s rankings more favorable.
Castiel still earned the prizes from his fights. He still fought and bled and sweat. He still trained every day.
He remembered what Luc said when Castiel first learned of his dealings. “In this business, you gotta make the right friends. All they’re doing is giving us a leg up. You want to keep getting fights or not?”
He didn’t think about the fact that, tonight, Dean proved that skill was enough to achieve recognition. But it was rare—and Dean was special.
If Dean hadn’t been special, Castiel would have walked away from Morningstar Gym long ago.
“Yeah, well, still,” Dean muttered, regaining Castiel’s attention. “I’m gonna pay you back. All of it.”
Castiel shook his head, like he did the very first time Dean had said that, and every time since when they had this conversation. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of Dean’s mouth. “No.”
“Cas!”
“I won’t accept it.”
“Well—” Dean grunted, grabbing Castiel’s wrists and forcing him on his back. He rolled on top of Castiel, the weight and heat on his body pressing Castiel into the mattress more than enough to put an end to Castiel’s thoughts. “Then, I’m just gonna have to force the cash down your pie hole.”
Castiel rumbled with a laugh, too elated to burst Dean’s bubble. Dean was dreaming again of a day when everything he wanted was in hand, when money wasn’t an issue, when he, his brother, and his father could be comfortable. Castiel would let him dream.
But, until it became a reality, Castiel would do whatever he must to help.
Dean didn’t have to know the truth.
Not about the money. Certainly not about the swell in Castiel’s chest every time he looked at Dean. Sometimes, it was too much to hold in. Castiel could feel it rising like a tide up his throat, trying to break the dam of his clenched teeth, a flood eager to spill out.
I love you, he wanted to say. I love you.
“You can certainly try,” he said instead, “but I’m fairly certain you’d lose that fight.”
Dean’s grip around his wrists tightened. He leaned down, lips brushing Castiel’s. “I dunno. Been taking down a lot of champs lately. Might come for your title, too, Angel.”
Even at the proximity, Castiel couldn’t stop gazing at Dean through his lashes.
He was worth everything.
Dean sealed their lips. His hands released Castiel’s wrists to sink his fingers into Castiel’s hair. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s back. The sheets rustled as he rolled them over.
Outside, the snow fell.
/////
TAGGED: @lovercas @donestiel @wanderingcas @wayward-angels-club @thetiredstuff @skella-bro @casthegrumpy @celestialcastiel @bluefirecas @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets @that-one-fandom-chick @haru-park96 @alejandriaiqq @no-aesthetic-all-aethetic @amirosebooks @epple-benene @agus-likes @the-ship-haz-sailed @justkissalreadyforfucksake @madimoo31 @an-angel-in-love-with-a-hunter @gracelesstars @bazghetti @wayward-waffles @theojaxons @jenmishrob @all-or-nothing-baby @auttownblue @leftistdean @sargafust @wannabe-loser @jessalrynn @splicedthoughts @castielss @that-dumbass-on-a-horse @passionfruixts @fabreagab @princesswinchester100 @superduckbatrebel @hopefuldreamers-world@theangelwiththewormstache @casandeans @mylovelydame21 @confusedisaster @superduckbatrebel @destielwentcanonomg @highest-brightness @i-put-the-ayyy-in-asexual @darkacademiagay @imthedoctorlove @freckledean @youcanteverknowenough @chicken-kebabs @myguardianangelisatrickster @hotactiongirlcoded @wingsandimpalas @casandhumanity @tploz @dontsgotalifee389 @on-a-bender @castiel-mybeloved @siriusseverusdeservedbetter @doctorprofessorsong @castielshotgirlsummer @toomuchheartcas @paintdriesfaster @lesbiancowboyy @angelinthefire @transdeantruther @fluffy-alpacaness @rogue-cas-whore @winchester-derangement-syndrome @lizzybennettdarcy @kineticpassion @i-love-books-and-so-do-you @dascean @llamasdumpsterfire @psychicbouquetblaze-stuff @im-some-lionheart @charlie-bradburi @bunnymcbunnister @gothanna @afeelingsosweet @sinnabonka @artsymoth @cassandrablah @sweetpeaalena @goiwantamuffin @rauko-is-a-free-elf @jessalrynn @ungcl @highwarlockofinnsbruck @deancaskiss @caddy-coo @bloodydeanwinchester @hannibalsthembo @proudpigeon @butterscotchdean @this-is-me19 @layofcastiel @claire-drinks-lovely-lemonade @harleycao @jgvfhl @thembo-cowboy @aussie-twat @slit-wrist
Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in chapters or if you’d like to be taken off the list.
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Kinktober Day 2 - Dry Humping
Read on AO3
Prompt List
Rating: Explicit
Ships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Tags: Dry Humping, Making Out, Dirty Talk, Begging, Pet Names, Blow Jobs, Clothed Sex, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Dean Winchester
Movie nights are nothing new for them. They’ve been doing them since they moved into the bunker years ago. Still, this might be the worst-attended movie night of all time. Hell, at this point he should just stop calling it a movie not at all. Not that he’s sour about it. Jack is out at the arcade with his new friends in Lebanon, and Sam is out on a date with Eileen. Cas is… well, he doesn’t exactly know where Cas is. He was supposed to be here, but apparently, he’s not coming, so Dean sighs and settles in to watch.
He’s only made it to the opening credits when Castiel comes crashing through the door to the lounge with a muffled curse. Dean blinks, taking in the sight—two shopping bags on the floor, another three on Cas’s arms, and the former angel looking absolutely haggard.
“Uh, Cas? What’s goin’ on?”
Castiel grimaces, shuffling the bags on his arm. “I was… trying to get us some snacks for movie night? But then I realized I’d never been grocery shopping on my own, and you normally have a list, so I was just wandering aimlessly adding things I thought you might like—”
“Whoa, Cas, alright. First of all, let’s get these off you.” Dean jumps into action, taking the bags from Cas and motioning for him to grab the fallen ones. He does, depositing the bags onto the coffee table with a sheepish smile.
“I’m sorry. I knew it was going to be just us so I thought it would be nice to have… snacks. But now I’m realizing I may have bought too many.”
Dean laughs. “Uh, yeah, just a few too many. But hey, Jack will be thrilled. And tell me you at least got pie?”
Castiel grins. “Three different kinds. I thought about getting the key lime as well, but I wasn’t sure if you liked it, so I got ones I’ve seen you eat before.”
Dean grins back. “A man after my own heart. Three kinds of pie? Ain’t I lucky?”
Castiel ducks his head, a small smile on his lips. “Yes, well. Pick your favorites and I can bring the rest to the kitchen.” He points to the TV. “Did I miss much?”
Dean sorts through the bags, keeping his and Cas’s favorite snacks on the table. Between the two of them, they bring the rest of the bags to the kitchen, putting the rest of the snacks away and grabbing a few more drinks and some forks for the pie.
They settle onto the loveseat, a pie between them and a bag of Cas’s favorite chips open on the coffee table. They chat quietly over the movie—Cas is getting better at his running commentary, even getting a few full-body laughs from Dean, and by the time the movie finishes, they’re both warm and comfortable and floating on the feeling of a night well spent.
“So,” Dean says slowly, flicking his gaze to Castiel. “Bunker to ourselves for a few more hours, huh?”
Castiel meets Dean’s gaze and smirks. “A few more hours, yes. How do you think we should spend it?”
Dean grins, shuffling to straddle Cas’s lap. “Oh, I think I can imagine a few ways…” He leans in and stays there for a moment, basking in the obvious want in Castiel’s eyes, before he fits their lips together.
It never gets old, having Cas like this. Hell, he’s been dreaming about it long enough, but having the real thing? It’s unparalleled. They don’t exactly have the time to do everything he’d like to do tonight, so he’ll have to settle for making out on the couch like horny teenagers. Castiel seems on board if the enthusiasm of their kiss and the hardness grinding against Dean’s ass is any indication.
He rocks his hips down against Castiel’s lap, grinning at the moan it pulls from him. “That feel good, Cas?”
Castiel huffs. “Don’t ask stupid questions,” he mutters, grabbing the front of Dean’s shirt and pulling him back into a kiss. It’s stupidly hot, and Dean has absolutely no problem keeping his mouth on Castiel’s. He threads his fingers through Castiel’s hair, tugging gently as he continues grinding against his lap.
“Gonna make you come just like this,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss his way down the side of Cas’s throat. “Wanna see just how worked up I can get you without even touching your cock.”
Cas whimpers, the noise like a jolt straight to Dean’s cock. “Dean, please…”
“Please what, sweetheart?”
Castiel groans, eyes fluttering closed as he dips his head back, grinding up against Dean. “Wanna taste you, please?”
Dean hums, considering it. “Tell you what, you tell me when you’re about to come, and if you can avoid coming in your pants, I’ll let you taste whatever part of me you want.”
Castiel gasps, nodding quickly. “Yes, please, yes.”
Dean chuckles, pulling Cas’s mouth back to his and settling down onto his lap, rocking his ass against Cas’s cock, straining against the zipper of his jeans. He kisses and licks and bites his way down Cas’s neck, slipping a hand up his shirt to pinch one of his nipples. Cas shudders at the touch, shuffling his legs farther apart and grabbing Dean’s ass, hauling him closer.
“Close, Dean, so close,” he breathes out, burying his face in Dean’s neck. “Fuck, please, Dean, please.”
Dean swallows, barely able to keep himself from coming in his own pants as he slides off Cas’s lap. “God, keep talking like that and I might be the one getting new pants.”
Castiel huffs, pushing Dean back against the cushions and tugging the button on Dean’s jeans free. “No pants would be preferable.”
Dean laughs, lifting his hips as Cas tugs his jeans and boxers off in one rough tug. “Anything for you, angel.”
Castiel rolls his eyes with a fond smile, leaning down to kiss Dean as he wraps a hand around his cock. He strokes it a few times, working his tongue into Dean’s mouth expertly, only pulling away a minute later to breathe. “You’re so perfect,” Cas murmurs, lips dragging against Dean’s skin as he kisses his way down his body, tongue darting out to catch the bead of precum at the tip of his cock. Dean hisses, reaching hand down to tangle his fingers in Cas’s hair. This still feels a little weird, having Cas’s mouth near his cock. He’s been human so long that it shouldn’t matter anymore, but he’s always been Dean’s angel.
“I can hear you thinking. Stop it,” Cas says sternly, shooting Dean a look. Dean bites his lip, smiling sheepishly and shrugging. He brushes his fingers through Cas’s hair, eyes fluttering closed as his lips seal around the head of his cock.
He grunts softly, forcing his eyes open to watch the incredibly hot scene in front of him. Castiel’s lips are stretched around his cock, his tongue teasing the tip as his hand strokes his length slowly and tightly, just how Dean likes it. He’s not going to last long like this, but he’s sure Cas is counting on that, so he just lays back and enjoys whatever Cas wants to give him. It only takes a couple of minutes before Dean is squirming beneath Cas’s skilled mouth, babbling something between curses and begging. Castiel hums around his cock and the feeling is enough to push Dean over the edge, the speed of his orgasm shocking him and making his skin tingle. He sucks in a few sharp breaths, watching Cas stroke him through his orgasm and swallow every drop, smirking when it draws a whimper from Dean.
“Aw, fuck, Cas, you can’t just be that hot all the time,” he mutters, a little bit petulantly, which makes Cas laugh. He shuffles over Dean to draw him into a kiss, freeing his own startlingly hard cock from his jeans. He gives it a few quick strokes before he spills hot and hard between them, face buried in Dean’s neck as he shudders through the waves of his orgasm. Cas collapses on top of him with a groan, pulling a quiet laugh from Dean. He tangles their legs together, rubbing a hand up and down Cas’s back. “We gotta kick them outta the bunker way more often if we get to do this every time.”
Castiel laughs, kissing Dean’s neck gently. “That’s an excellent idea. Shall we clean up and watch another movie?”
Dean grins, tilting Cas’s head up to kiss him again. “Damn, you really are a man after my own heart, huh?”
Castiel smirks. “Can’t be after what I already have.”
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Hi again, I'm the anon that asked about names and I'm working on my thing, but I've been rewatching both seasons a ton to get characterization right and oh my god. I finally get the implications at the end of Love. Do you have any fluffy headcanons to distract me bc I'm lowkey freaked out right now lmao. I will never be able to look at Shrignold the same again oh my god
Hello! Glad to hear you're still working on your fic 🥰 I hope it's going well! And yes. The love episode... the one with the catchiest song and the creepiest undertones :/ (I don't think there's concrete vibes of what's supposed to be 'implied' tbh, i think it's mainly commentary on how cults can prey on the venerable with a weird fucking unnerving bit at the end for some good gore/shock value shots, or at least that's what i'm telling myself to feel better lol)
A lot of my fluffier headcanons are already in a couple of my fics or are being kicked around on this blog!
Duck cooks the most (based on his curry and the lovely chicken picnic) in my AU specifically he's started to cook more carb-y foods because he wants to make sure they're all eating enough, much like a grandma immediately feeding you the second you step foot in the house, it's how he shows love
Red is the designated tall person and is always the one that has to get things down from high places. He'll also take things away from the other two and stash them up high if they're annoying him or fighting over something, and will leave it up there until everyone's calmed down
Due to the significant lack of lips in this family they can't really 'kiss' each other so Red's taken to headbutting as a form of endearment (which is something I do!) and will kind of press his forehead onto the other persons and leave it there. Duck pretends not to like it but he loves it. Yellow loves it so much he gets excited and will accidentally headbutt the others at like 1000 miles an hour and potentially knock himself and the other person out
Duck specifically preens the others as a form of endearment, and he loves playing with the other's hair in the way birds preen other bird's feathers. He'll help Red get knots and things out of his yarn and he likes to fiddle with Yellow's hair if he thinks it's too messy (all while scolding them for looking sloppy of course)
(sometimes he'll nibble at them with his beak if he's feeling especially lovey-dovey, it's all very adorable)
(Yellow really REALLY loves it when he does that and just shrieks with laughter the whole time)
Red and Duck's love language is bickering and bitching at each other, all in a very passive aggressive british way of course. Very much old married couple vibes there, but in a way where they'll tell each other to shut the fuck up with love and then make dinner together while drinking wine or whatever it is old men do
Duck and Yellow also like to bicker with each other and make jokes, Yellow loves to call Duck old because he gets all pissy about it and Duck will make him do extra chores as punishment for being disrespectful but will usually help out if he thinks Yellow is being too slow (which he always does) This relationship is heavily based on the relationship I have with my mother, everything's a joke and we're always talking shit until it isn't and then it's all love
Also 100% my mother would bite me and give me rabies if I was pissing her off I don't think that affects Duck's parental status that's like normal and also they're british so....
Red is a HUGE snuggler, especially in my AU where he's getting chubbier and learning to be happy. He uses his bigger size to kind of pounce on whoever he wants to hug and squeeze them and shake them around because he can't contain or verbalize how much he cares about them
If Yellow has any trouble sleeping he just crawls into one of the other's beds (he's in the middle so it's usually 50/50 who he'll go to) and immediately steals the blankets and puts his cold feet on their legs. The other two are usually don't care (red) or claim they're too tired to move him (but actually doesn't mind that much) (duck)
They all stim. Duck rocks in his chair or flaps his wings, Red hums and fiddles with whatever's in his hands, Yellow kicks his feet and flaps his hands, he also has the tendency to dance around when he's happy.
Yellow would 100% be that kid that loves Minecraft and slime
He tries to make slime one time and gets it caught in Red's yarn and cries his eyes out because he thinks it's going to make Red bald and bald people scare him
Duck makes Red wash his head in the sink and somehow gets it all out and then Yellow cries more because he's happy Red isn't going to be bald
Duck 100% watches old lady british soap operas and BBC murder series like Midsomer Murders or Vera or Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (Australian but whatever)
Yellow watches kids tv shows on PBS or HBO Family, Documentary series about animals (or any other NPR smart people show) the news, numbers stations, and british morning talkshows
Red watches whatever is on tv that the other two want to watch and I feel like he probably likes to watch footy
they all love each other very much because I SAID SO
#also if i felt like being an evil wench i would say duck keeps yellow well fed because subliminally he doesn't want to be eaten again >:0)#ALSO ALSO I like to watch british gameshows like 8 out of 10 cats or taskmaster to watch how funnie british people interact with each other#i like to think that Duck acts like david mitchell Red acts like alex horne and Yellow acts like roisin conaty (very loosely)#long post#YOU SLY DOG YOU GOT ME MONOLOGUING#my posts#my askbox
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Ooh #63 would make a great Sabriel (cuz we just know Gabe is a noisy lil fuck in bed, right?)
Yes! These words were made for Gabriel! I have no idea why this fic took so long to come to me, but I finally give you smut! Thank you so much for the ask and understanding that the muse works in mysterious smutty ways. 😂 Happy Reading ❤️
Rated: Explicit
Tags: smut, anal sex, bet, kissing, on the sofa, hand jobs, plot what plot, Gabriel is a screamer
The Easiest Bet
"This is a stupid bet." Sam sighed, his arms crossed over his chest, as he looked down at his partner as the archangel lounged on the TV room's couch. Sam shifted his stance in front of him. "You cannot hate my movies that much."
The archangel rolled his eyes, stretching out more across the two-seater. "I assure you I do hate your documentaries that much, Sammykins," Gabriel reassured with a roll of his wrist. "Somehow they are more boring than actually living it. Come on, Sammoose. First one to make a noise loses and the winner gets to pick what we watch for a month."
Sam shook his head, a crooked smile weaseling its way onto his lips. He ducked his head, looking down. "There is no way you would win that bet, Gabe. You have to know that right? Do you even realize how loud you always are?" Sam asked with a wave of his hand.
"Hey," Gabriel cried, pointing a finger at him and sitting up a bit on the sofa. "I can be quiet if I want to be! Overconfident moose," Gabriel huffed, his lips pulling into a scowl.
The brunette bit his lip trying to stifle his laughter. "Gabriel, I have spent my whole life living with someone. Mostly Dean," Sam said, tucking his chin to his chest trying to control his amusement. "And Cas normally has to soundproof our room so Dean doesn't have a stroke." He let out a chuckle looking at his partner just as Gabriel rolled his eyes waving a dismissive hand at him. "There is no way you can stay quiet longer than me."
"I can be quiet, Winchester." The blonde shifted, sitting up fully on the sofa. "Especially if it means I don't have to watch a single documentary for a month."
Sam sighed, running a hand through his locks, looking to the bunker hallway as he thought about it. "Make it two months," he said looking back at Gabriel with a wide smile, knowing he couldn't talk his boyfriend out of it and that he would definitely win. "I'll do it if the winner picks for two months."
"Deal." Gabriel's grin widened, his brows bouncing.
"First one to make noises loses?" Sam questioned, bending down over the sofa and pressing a kiss to the blonde's grinning lips.
The archangel leaned into the teasing press of lips, his fingers reaching to stroke through Sam's beard. "Yes, Samheart."
Sam chuckled against his lips, pressing the shorter man back into the cushions and deepening the kiss. Gabriel smiled into it, wrapping his hand around Sam's nape to keep him close, parting his lips. The brunette's tongue slid into his lover's mouth as his hands rolled down Gabriel's sides, lifting him with ease and sliding onto the sofa to take the shorter man's space on the couch.
Gabriel let out a silent gasp as Sam's long arms wrapped around him and pulled him into his lap, straddling him. Large hands quickly slid Gabriel's jacket off before working his shirt off. The archangel bit his lip, breaking the kiss to help take his shirt and jacket off, his hips grinding down on Sam's half-hard member. Sam licked over his lips at the feeling of Gabriel's round jean-clad ass grinding down on his hardening length. He rocked up to him, his hands going to Gabriel's belt wanting to feel him.
The shorter man's lips were on him again the moment they were free from their shirts, rocking his hips and lifting them as Sam shoved down his pants and boxers. The blonde sucked and bit at Sam's neck, his eyes flashing with grace as their clothes vanished, biting down on the tender clave of skin at Sam's neck to stop himself from moaning at the feel of Sam's hardening flesh pressed bare against him.
Sam's hips rutted at the feeling of smooth skin against him, his hands clenching around Gabriel's gyrating hips. His eyes closed at the hard bite and the soothing suckling of his lover's lips that went right to his groin swallowing back a hiss of delight. Hazel eyes rolled behind his lids, his hands clenching at Gabriel's ample cheeks spreading them and biting back a moan at the feeling of his already prepared opening. Gabriel shuddered, pressing his face to Sam's neck as he gripped Sam's long cock squeezing him and stroking him in his hand. The brunette bit harder on his lip, holding in a grunt when Gabriel's hand was on him, cursing internally at his lover's perfectly tight grip.
The archangel pulled back with a smirk, looking over Sam's heaving chest as he stroked him into fullness. He grinned as Sam rutted into his hand before lifting his hips and hovering over the thick member as it throbbed in his hand. The hunter held tight to his hips watching as Gabriel sank down on him, huffing out a heated breath through his nose as Gabriel took all of his length in with slow torturous rolls of his hips. The blonde withheld a whine at the slow pace, knowing any faster and he'd cry out. He bit his lips as his fingers clenched on Sam's broad shoulders only to gasp a breathless silent moan when Sam rutted up into him, forcing the archangel to take all of him with one smooth roll of his hips.
The blonde's head rolled forward, shuddering at a breath barely containing his cry when Sam held tighter to the archangel's waist, holding him still and burying himself inside of the wet canal. Gabriel shuddered at the easy stretch and burn of Sam's thick shaft relishing in the sudden fullness, wanting to cry out. He held tighter to Sam, determined to be quiet even when the taller man found his prostate. Sam licked his lips, his cock rubbing against the bundle of nerves with his every upward thrust.
Gabriel clenched around him, biting down harder on his lips as Sam drilled into him, moving with him. Sam panted, pressing open mouth kisses against the smooth sunkissed skin, his eyes rolling at the clenching walls of his lover. His hips moved in tandem with each roll of Gabriel's, the archangel clenching tighter around him with his efforts to keep quiet in the face of the brunette's punishing pace. Gabriel's head rolled, his nails scraping at Sam's shoulders and back, rocking with each of Sam's thrusts, his cock bouncing and aching between them.
Sam's head went back, not knowing if he could stay quiet with the delicious warmth wrapped around him. He wasn't going to lose. An idea struck him as he watched the archangel bite back his cries. A smirk pulled on Sam's lips, wrapping an arm tight around Gabriel’s hips and pulling from him with a silent gasp. Gabriel couldn't hold back his whine at the sudden loss or the cry that was forced from his lips when Sam bent him over the arm of the sofa. The taller man lined his thick head against his rim from behind him before shoving back inside of him in one long smooth thrust.
"Fuck!"
Sam let out a low guttural groan, his smile wide as he thrusted relentlessly into Gabriel. "Dumbest bet," he said around a moan, wrapping his hand around Gabriel's leaking cock.
"Goddamnit, your cock feels so good,"
Gabriel groaned, admitting defeat and sinking fully into the spikes of bliss that racked through his vessel. "Shit right there, Sammy," he hissed. His hands gripped tight to the arm his chest was pressed against, bucking his hips back to him as Sam rocked into him, his head hanging. "So fucking good."
The brunette smirked his left hand holding tight to Gabriel's hip, losing his rhythm quickly when the blonde let his moans run free. "Fuck, I love your voice, " Sam grunted out, bending over him more and slamming his hips faster. "Love it when you scream for me."
Gabriel let out a low groan at the heated words as Sam's hand stroked his cock faster. "Gonna cum… Fuck Sam don't stop." His hips rocked between the thrusting length and the tight fist around his weeping member.
Sam nodded against him, grunting out his agreement as he thrusted into the fluttering warmth around him, cumming with a choked-off moan against Gabriel's back. The archangel's hips jerked as Sam stiffened behind him, his orgasm hitting him hard as Sam's thumb dragged over his wet tip, cumming over his lover's hand with a shout and a curse.
The hunter groaned, stroking Gabriel through his orgasm and smiling against his back. Gabriel moaned, rutting through the last shocks of his climax, closing his eyes as he went limp against the cushions.
"Not a word," the blonde groaned out as Sam pulled from him. "Nobody likes a gloating giant."
Sam chuckled, trailing kisses down his spine. "Mm. I'm thinking we can start with true crimes and then work our way through that twenty-part special on the Roman Empire."
"Ugh. Fucking nerd." Gabriel groaned, rolling his head to the side and narrowing his eyes at the dimpled smug grin of his lover. "I hate you and your sexy brain."
"Easiest bet in the world, Gabe." Sam chuckled, smiling and turning him over and kissing his pouting lips. "And I love you too."
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This is set in the ‘Change is good’ universe. Basically a one shot- where Nestas still living her best independent life and then Cassian catches her out on a date with another male.
This is at request of @bittermuire Thank you for the prompt! (I’ve changed it a little so its a bit more relaxed and flirty because all I do is write angst now haha)
https://href.li/?https://archiveofourown.org/works/40911090
She knew he was watching.
He always was.
But this wasn’t like the other times, when she would pick a male at random and drag them back to her apartment with her. It was always a blur of sweat and hands and whiskey tainted breath.
She had hated it. But it kept her mind off of other things.
The male standing in front of her now was not like the others.
Jarek was handsome, he was sweet but a little soft and she supposed he was funny. She hadn’t slept with him yet, she wanted to take things slow, build a connection. She wanted it to be different this time.
They had been out to dinner three times already and Nesta was enjoying his company. It was nice, to be wanted. To be liked.
So she let him walk her home, they had paused outside of the apartment buildings main door and he was looking at her. She knew that look, he was going to kiss her.
He leaned slowly towards her, his eyes closed.
Not exactly the most passionate move but what the hell, she hadn’t been touched in over a year.
Then she saw it, a shadow out of the corner of her eye. It was getting bigger, almost like it was coming towards them.
Dammit.
She couldn’t stop the galloping of her heart at the sight of him. She knew he had been watching.
Because he always was.
A tiny still bitter part of her had wanted him to witness this. Her moving on. But then she saw his stupid face.
His mouth was pulled down in a tight frown, his eyes were dark and they promised nothing but violence when they looked at Jarek, who had flinched and ducked behind Nesta for protection.
Cassian smirked.
Anger bubbled inside of here. What the hell did he think he was doing.
‘’What the hell are you doing here Cassian?’’ she snapped.
He shrugged, casually, but those dark eyes remained focused on Jarek. Whose hands had went to Nestas waist.
She saw his jaw clench. His hands were fists at his side.
‘’I was just out for a stroll,’’ he replied.
‘’A stroll?’’ she snorted. Crossing her arms over chest she raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow at him. ‘’Shouldn’t you be hanging upside down in a tree somewhere? It’s night time,’’ she taunted. Jarek would probably burst into tears if she teased him like that.
Cassians eyes narrowed but his lips twitched, hiding that grin she had missed.
‘’Your right sweetheart, it is quite late isn’t it?’’ he looked at Jarek then, who had paled slightly as the general stretched out his ridiculously enormous wings. ‘’Shouldn’t you be fucking off now?’’ he snarled at the cowering male.
Jarek fled at the sound.
Cassian glared after him, like he was thinking of chasing him down.
‘’How dare you! You have no right interfering in my love life Cassian,’’ she hissed. She turned on her heel and walked towards the main door. She was seething.
‘’Love life,’’ Cassian laughed but it was hollow. ‘’That male was pathetic, he wasn’t worthy of standing that close to you, never mind anything else.’’
She paused, turned her head to look at him. She wanted to slap him. She wanted to kiss him. She needed to go inside.
‘’That’s not up to you Cas,’’ she murmured.
His face softened at the nickname. His hands clenched and unclenched. Like he was trying to distract himself. Form what she didn’t know.
She was still staring at him.
He tilted his head at her and grinned. She hated that grin. She loved that grin. She was going to do something stupid.
She spun quickly and darted inside.
She heard him chuckling as she sprinted up the stairs to her apartment.
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Suptober 27 Oct.: Liar
"Sam, he's not waking up." Dean looked over and saw the terror dawning in Sam's face too.
deancas, established relationship au
"You want him, you can have him," Dean sneered. "Do it, fucking cowards. I'm certainly not going to stand in your way."
The demons glanced at each other uneasily. Good, Dean thought, you should be scared.
"That goddamn angel has betrayed me I don't know how many times now." Dean choked out a harsh laugh. "He's not worth much to me dead but even less to me alive." He felt the blade of the demon knife tucked in his waistband bite into the small of his back and let it bolster him. "You wanna kill him right now? He's injured – you know it as well as I do. This whole forest stinks of his blood. Let's go find him together."
His smile, he knew, was cold as a corpse and too wide, showing off his canine teeth too well – he was one of them, a predator to his marrow.
The taller demon stepped nearer. A twig snapped beneath his foot, like a bone cracking. It was better than a whistle: Sam wound out from behind the giant oak, striking fast as a snake. The holy water sizzled in the first demon's eyes, then the second's; Dean sunk in the blade and ripped it clean away twice in fast succession, and the bodies twitched and sparkled like unleashed roman candles as they fell heavily to the earth.
"Gross," Sam said, wiping a spray of blood off his cheek.
Dean took a second to be grateful at how little interest Sam seemed to take in the blood otherwise.
He patted down the wider demon's vest and came up empty, shaking his head in frustration.
"Here," Sam said, reaching quickly into the other demon's pockets. "Yes, got it."
The vial of whatever the fuck antidote it was flew at Dean. He caught it and pushed off the ground, trusting Sam would catch up in no time, as he clambered down the tree rooted trail to the thatch of fallen maples. Cas was pale as the grave as Dean slid on his knees down beneath the maple with the most clearance, where Cas laid curled on his side, unconscious and unmoving in a pool of crimson, not all of which were leaves.
Dean put a palm to the side of Cas's throat. "Cas, buddy, you gotta wake up now."
Sam crawled under the tree and knelt up by Cas's head. "Let's sit him up."
They maneuvered him mostly into a sitting position, and Sam braced Cas's jaw as Dean uncorked the vial and tipped in the potion.
"C'mon, c'mon," Dean muttered, his whole body about to shake apart suddenly, as it dawned on him this might not work. Five seconds. Ten. Twenty. "Sam, he's not waking up." Dean looked over and saw the terror dawning in Sam's face too.
The giant wheezing breath Cas sucked in at that exact moment saved Dean's life.
Dean bent over and felt his heart kick in his chest like he'd been hit with lightning. "Hey, hey, hi." He patted Cas's chest and stared into his face until his eyes opened. "How ya doin', man?"
Cas squinted back. "I've been better."
"We believe it," Sam said as he pushed Cas a little further upright.
Cas coughed a few times and gingerly touched the low spot on his abdomen where the gouge had been, where his white shirt remained wet and stained. "Please tell Eileen thank you," he said, turning to speak directly to Sam. "I owe her for this one."
"Nah, she was happy to help." Sam looked at Dean and cleared his throat. "I'm, um. Gonna go call her, though, and let her know everything's fine." He stood up and ducked out onto the trail again.
Dean was about to speak when Cas said, slowly, "I heard you, when you were talking to the demons."
"Oh yeah?" Dean swallowed against the bile that had immediately risen at the back of his throat.
Cas nodded, his eyes on Dean as warm as sunlight. "You were a very convincing liar."
Dean grabbed his face between his hands and kissed his mouth softly. Less softly the second time. In his peripheral vision he saw Sam approach and wheel away again, and it didn't stop Dean from kissing Cas until Cas made a small pleased sound.
"Please stop getting stabbed trying to save me."
"All right," Cas said. "I promise."
Dean let him fib. He'd figure out a way to hold him to it later.
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I'll Crawl Home to Her: 17/17
Summary: It has been five long years since Thanos snapped half of all existence into dust along with half of Bucky's heart. He runs to the life of an assassin as the Winter Soldier once again until he is caught against his wishes in Madripoor. "There is a chance," Steve told him with tears in his eyes. "We're going back. To fix everything." They could all go back to the past. But Bucky had a different plan in mind. And it didn't have anything to do with any infinity stones but everything to do with the reason he'd been running. He was going to fix the biggest mistake he'd ever made.
WRITTEN BY: @if-you-onlyknew & @katiekinswrites
Pairing: Bucky Barnes/OFC
Rating: M (Mature) & E (Explicit)
PART 2/3 in the: Maggie/Bucky What If (AU) Saga - Read the first story of the saga HERE
chapter preview:
“You trying to steal my girl again, Steve?” He joked as he clapped Steve gently on the back and smirked at him.
Steve just ducked his head after letting go of Maggie.
“Wait… again? ” Maggie looked at them both.
Steve rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks flushed red as Bucky smiled in amusement.
“Uhhh,” Steve chucked awkwardly.
Had Steve stolen one of Bucky's girlfriends in the past— because…Bucky couldn’t possibly be talking about her when saying Steve was trying to steal his girl again.
“How about we just chalk it up to a different timeline?” Steve said.
Oh shit. He was talking about her!
Maggie looked at Bucky. “I feel like I’m missing some pretty important information.”
“Let’s just say your dad would really lose it if he found out his daughter not only married a Howling Commando but went on a date with Captain America as well.” Bucky spared Maggie the details he knew, that they had kissed too.
TAGLIST: @ocappreciationtag • @sendmylcve • @arrthurpendragon • @darkwolf76 • @cas-verse • @victoriapedrcttis • @cjand10 • @acabecca • @seb-soph • @eddysocs • @darylandbethfanforever9
#ocapp#oc: maggie hastings#fic: i'll crawl home to her#bucky barnes#mcu oc#what if au#time travel au#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes/oc#mcu au
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Suptober 2022 Day 18 - Tattoos
Destiel, Short fic, 674 words
Dean and Cas decide to get matching tattoos.
Under the cut or on Ao3
Tattoos
Dean shuddered as Cas gazed into his soul while the whir of the tattoo gun hummed in his ears. He thanked his lucky stars that the tattoo artist was so focused on their work and hadn't noticed that Dean was half hard in his jeans as Cas' eyes burned possessively into him.
Oddly enough, the whole thing had started with an argument…
*****
"If you really wanted me all those years ago, why did you heal your handprint?" Dean shouted, then flushed as he realized what had just left his mouth. Even though they'd been together for several months, he still got itchy when he circled too close to how pathetically he needed Cas.
Cas glared at him and yelled back, “You made it clear that you were going to go live with Lisa—"
“Well, you said you were going to fuck off to heaven! I thought I’d never see you again!”
Cas visibly gritted his teeth and said, “Then once again you underestimated how much I would give to stay by your side for all of time.”
Dean’s face burned so hotly he could feel it all the way up to his ears. He cleared his throat and shuffled uncomfortably as he tried to come up with something to say.
Cas gently said, “I never wanted to leave you, Dean, but you’d given me no reason to think you wanted me to stay.”
Dean ducked his head. He knew that he was being unreasonable. He knew that he was just as much to blame for their inability to communicate all these years, he just…
Cas asked quietly, “Why does the loss of the brand bother you so much?”
“I dunno, man, I just… It just does okay?”
Cas squinted at him, tilting his head in that adorable way he always did when he was trying to work out what the hell Dean was trying to say. “Dean,” He asked hesitantly. “Did you like having a physical representation of our bond?”
Impossibly, Dean’s face flushed even redder. He turned away from Cas, though he knew it was too late to hide.
Cas suddenly appeared directly in front of him. Cas placed a hand on Dean’s chest and shoved. Dean’s back hit the end of the bookcase behind him and before Dean could say more than, “Cas, what the f—” Cas’ mouth crashed into his.
It wasn’t a gentle thing, this kiss was all fire and possession spelled out with teeth and tongue. Dean moaned into it and clung to Cas’ trench coat for dear life.
Cas fitted his hand over Dean’s left shoulder, and a pulse of heat shot from Cas’ hand down to Dean’s core. Dean gasped and pulled away from Cas, suddenly feeling that there wasn’t enough air in the room as stars burst in front of his eyes.
When his vision cleared, he found Cas grinning at him with a wicked glint in his eyes. He said, far too calmly for how hot and bothered Dean felt, “I only healed your skin, Dean. Your soul has always carried the mark of my grace, even when I was human and could no longer sense it.”
Dean’s mind spun.
Cas looked thoughtful. He hummed, “I do like the idea of a physical sign of our bond, though. If you’d be interested, I have an idea…”
*****
Which was how Dean had found himself at a tattoo parlor getting inked up with a mix of regular ink and a bit of both Cas’ grace and a tiny piece of Dean’s soul.
Cas had gone first, finally getting an anti-possession tattoo to match the tattoos Dean and Sam had had for years. His tattoo had an added string of Enochian around it, which nearly matched the inscription Dean was adding to his own tattoo.
Dean glanced down at the glyphs that had once looked so strange and foreign. They twined together over his heart and even though most people wouldn’t be able to read it, they spelled out for all the world to see, “Beloved of Castiel.”
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The Jock, The Nerd , The Pretty Boy and Maybe the Weird Guy.
Warnings: Smut, M/M relationship. All Characters are over 18.
Two of them should have been in their English class, the other was on a free period where he should have been studying. Instead all three were inside one of the many bathrooms the school had to offer, what they were doing exactly wasn’t for the faint of heart. The school’s Pretty Boy Mike Salder and the Star Football player Reg Seekings were kissing, only both had their trousers and Underwear around their ankles as the school nerd Johnny Cooper was on his knees in front of them alternating between sucking each of them off and wanking who ever’s cock wasn’t being sucked. It was a symphony of sound in there. As all you could hear was the sound of panting, moaning and the wet sounds of Johnny sucking the other two off.
It had been going on for at least twenty minutes now and there was going to be no stopping them. If someone walked in it was highly doubtful that they would even stop. Murmuring “Fuck, come here” Reg tugged Johnny gentley upwards and began kissing him, as he did so Mike swapped places with Johnny and began tugging at the boy’s trousers, getting them down so he could repeat on him what he had been doing earlier. The whole thing was pretty typical of the three of them. They were a throuple and were fine with that. They hadn’t yet defined what they preferred but tended to experiment and go with whatever felt right at that moment. At this particular moment in time it was to take turns being on their Knees. Mike was in fact only the second to be on his knees in the little round of fun. They weren’t really sure how far this would escalate but knowing them it would end with something being railed against the bathroom wall.
What the three didn’t know was that there was someone heading their way. It was something they had thought about but just thought they would deal with it when it happened. The person who was heading their way was someone who no-one paid any attention to other than to remark about how weird he was. Which was a shame really as he was pretty in a disturbing kind of way. A perfect blend of masculine and feminine, what you were supposed to be attracted to and what you were supposed to be repulsed by. Yes Walter Essner was a strange duck, not just in looks but attitude. The most people knew about him was that he was eighteen, German and what his name was.
Whatever Walter expected to find behind the door of the men’s bathroom it was not what he was about to find. He was humming to himself as he walked along the corridor and then pushed open the bathroom door. The humming stopped as the door swung shut behind him and his eyes fell on the scene before him.
Walter swallowed hard as two pairs of eye’s turned to look in his direction at the sound of the door attracting their attention. Mike stopped what he was doing to look Walters' way a few seconds later, hands still wrapped around the other boys' cocks. Reg tried to hold back a laugh before saying “Like what you see?” . Walter couldn’t form a reply; he was standing there still in shock. He couldn’t quite believe it and he was pretty sure if he told anyone, not that he had any friends to tell, what he saw they wouldn’t believe him. It was a rumour, it wasn’t true people would say, you are just making it up to get attention. Walter felt like a spider trapped beneath a glass. He had no idea what he was going to do. He knew what he wanted to do but he was glued to the spot.
The three other young men in the bathroom began to speak amongst themselves, casting their eyes over to Walter on occasion as if to assess him and figure out how to handle this. It was Mike who spoke first “Why don’t we ask him if he wants to join in?” It was meant as a sort of joke but he wouldn’t mind the help, getting Johnny off took time sometimes. It was Johnny who replied with a more serious but teasing “Yeah why not he is kind of pretty” “I guess so and if he told anyone no-one would believe him anyway” Came Reg’s harsh tone. They weren’t exactly being quiet in their discussion and Walter could hear every word. He was still dazed but he was embarrassed to say it but the scene before him had gotten him excited and it was becoming very clear if the bulge in his tight jeans was anything to go by. Quickly he moved his shoulder bag to cover the bulge and tried not to blush and averted his eyes towards the ceiling.
It was Mike with his sharp eyes that noticed the moment. “Whatcha hiding there Walter?” He said standing and looking over at him properly. It would have been more intimidating if his jeans and boxers weren’t around his ankles. “N..n.nothing” He stuttered hoping they would let him go, even if he did want to join in. There was only one little problem, Walter was a virgin and his only experience was his hand. “Hmm I don’t think so” Mike replies. With a curious look between them, Reg, Mike and Johnny made their way towards him. Johnny smiled that megawatt smile of his, the one that was pretty but unnerving at the same time, as he reached out and tugged the bag out of the way. “Well, well what do we have here then?” asked Reg as all three of them stared at the bulge in Walters trousers. “Looks like someone does want to join in.”
Finding his voice properly Walter manages to say “I want to but…” “ but what?” “I don’t know how” He lets out a resigned sigh as he says the last part. “We can help with that can’t we boys?” Reg says, to which the other’s nod. “Now let's get this off and these open” he says as he pulls off Walters bag and pops open the button on his trousers. Walter lets out a little whimper, one that says he can’t quite believe this is happening. Tilting his head down he watches and Reg pulls down his zipper and tugs down his trousers. Mike and Johnny both sink to their knees, both thinking the same. It would be easy if they were to give the blowjobs instead of Walter trying, nothing was worse than a combination of a nervous person and your cock. Mike, being the gentler of the two, took up position in front of Walter, going at a slower pace than Johnny who already had his lips around Reg’s cock and was earning himself loud moans for his effort. Reg’s hands had already left Walter’s trousers leaving Mike to do the rest of the work.
Looking up at Walter, Mike gave him a reassuring smile, before hooking his fingers into the boxer briefs Walter was wearing and tugging them down. Walter’s cock sprung free and it was in Mike’s mind a pretty cock. Just above average in length and girth, with a fine patch of blonde pubes at the base. Walter is tempted to cover himself up but before he can Mike wraps a hand round the base of his cock and licks a long strip along its length, before swirling his tongue over the head and the slit that is already leaking precum. Walter lets out a moan that is pornographic and is a sound he never knew he could make. It cause’s Johnny to pause and grin up at Reg and mouth “what the fuck” and Reg to give him a gleeful look. This was going to be fun to watch and listen to.
Walter felt a shock go through him the moment Mike’s tongue touched his dick, it was like an electric bolt, the only problem was the sound that had escaped his lips which quickly had hmm mumbling “Sorry” and trying to move away. Mike didn’t let him move anywhere though but sensing Walter was nervous said “Just try and relax, you can trust me”. “You can trust me that he knows what he’s doing,” Reg quipped. Walter shuffled forward a bit and decided to trust Mike, what did he have to lose? He could either get his dick sucked by the one guy in school that he was sure half of the student body wanted to sleep with or go home and wank off silently in his bedroom and hoping his Mother didn't walk in. Mike started again as Walter shuffled closer. This time he stroked along his length slowly before taking the tip in his mouth and slowly sinking down, pressing his tongue flat against the underside of Walters cock.
Soon the bathroom was filled with the sound of gentle little moans from Walter and grunts from Reg. Small sloppy sucking sounds came from the boys on their knees. It wasn’t long before Walter knew he was about to come and gave a strangled little moan “Gonna come”. He tried to pull back feeling it would be rude to come down Mike’s throat but the other boy held him in place until he finally came panting “Fuck, fuckkkk” Pulling off of Walter with a small pop Mike stood up and wiped his lips and grinned “Enjoy yourself?” He said with a cock of his eyebrow. “Yeah,” Walter said, nodding his head eagerly. “Do you want to try and return the favour?” Mike asked.
Walter bit his lip but nodded, before moving to take up the position Mike had been in early. Sensing this could get awkward, Reg pulled Johnny to his feet and disappeared into a cubicle. It was clear seconds later that they were engaging in something completely different now, if the sounds Johnny was making were anything to go by. Walter gave Mike a few gentle strokes of his hand before working up enough never to give a small kitten lick over the head of Mike’s cock. “That’s it” Mike encouraged, spurred on Walter began to take what he could of Mike’s cock into his mouth, trying to copy the way Mike had felt around him and what he thought would feel good. “Mmm you sure you haven’t done this before?” Mike asks Walter, looking down at him, for someone who had claimed he didn’t know how, Walter was a real quick learner. Soon his efforts have Mike moaning and ready to blow, the sounds coming from the cubicle helped as well. Mike pulled back so just the tip was in Walter’s mouth then came. He watched as Walter swallowed his load down and then pulled him up and into a rough kiss, tasting himself on the other boy’s tongue. Releasing him he said “Maybe you should join us again sometime”. From inside the occupied cubicle a shout rang out “He better we didn’t get to play with him”.
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