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hihhasotherfixations · 4 months

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Kinktober Day 16: Bath/Shower sex - Price x Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

CW: fem!reader, shower sex, lube, fingering, p in v

I really need to learn to start making drabbles instead of oneshots cause at this rate I’m never finishing kinktober. Heck, we’re even with days in December now 💀

I’m gonna try to keep up now so that this ca finish this month :)

Word Count: 2129

“Come on.” John ordered as he stood beside the couch, his arms crossed as he looked down at you.

“No, I’m busy.” You replied, making the man narrow his eyes. “I took a shower when I got home last night, I’m fine.”

“You need a shower.” The man argued back and you lifted your head, glaring at him.

“I know you want me to take a break, but this is not the way to do it.” You said pointedly and John looked off to the side, trying to hide the embarrassed flush on his cheeks.

For the past half an hour he had tried to get you to take a break, unhappy with how little you took care of yourself and refused to take moments of rest. It started with just asking, then escalated to offering food and drinks, then going a step further to him saying he needed fresh air and wanted you along, until now, where he was just accusing you of reeking when you very much didn’t.

You’d gone right back to work, ignoring his presence while he was standing there, the stern expression on his face which had most men cowering only making you yawn.

It was infuriating.

“Y/N, for the love of god, stop being stubborn.”

“You’re not religious, that phrase holds no power.” You mumbled without looking up and that was the last straw.

Without warning, John swiped you up, leaving all your stuff to clatter onto the couch.

“Jonathan!” You cried out in despair but he didn’t care, carrying you with him even as you struggled, his years of military training making it so you stood no choice against the bulging muscles barely hidden underneath his tight turtleneck.

“If you don’t need a shower, then fine. But I do.” He rumbled, keeping a hand firm on your ass as he moved to the bathroom, plopping you down on the bath rug after closing the door.

“John-“ You warned as you tried to step past him only for him to step into the way. “You don’t need me in order to shower!”

“Yes I do.” He smiled back, a cheeky glint in his eye. “How can I ever reach my back after you broke the back scrub?”

At that, you narrowed your eyes. “Your stubborn ass never used that thing. I’ve seen you writhe like a snake to reach and scrub your back with your hands.”

Chuckling lowly, John then stepped up, cupping your face.

It had your eyes softening - especially when he held such a loving gaze as he looked at you, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Do this for me?” He asked quietly, almost in a whisper. “You need a break, my love. I don’t care whatever excuse I have to come up with, so long as it gets you to take a moment for yourself.”

At those words, all the fight left your body and you sighed gently, looking up at Price with a soft smile. “You’re a way too loving pain in the ass, you know that?”

Chuckling, John nuzzled his nose against yours. “Good. Now get your pretty ass in the shower before I make you.”

Lovingly rolling your eyes, you started to strip, same as your husband. Though as you did, you noticed his eyes very intently focused on you, making him finish undressing at the same time as you - while he usually finished way faster.

“You’re staring.” You smiled and the corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Can you blame me?” He questioned before putting his hand on your lower back, gently guiding you into the two person shower which he’d installed himself.

Stepping in, he closed the shower door before turning you around to face himself, his hands landing on your hips as he looked at your eyes before leaning in, kissing you.

Closing your eyes, your hands reached up to land on his shoulders, smiling against his mouth as he kissed you deep, gently moving his lips in tandem with yours before he broke it - keeping his head right up against yours. “That’s my girl.” He whispered against your lips before kissing you again, pulling your stomach into his as his right hand left your hip to turn on the shower.

Your breath hitched against his lips as the water rained down, yet John quickly crowded you into the corner of the shower, not particularly keen on having either of you be sprayed with ice cold water as it took a second to warm up.

You softly laughed as he broke the kiss, your voice turning into a hum as he then trailed his lips down your neck.

“Have plans, do you?” You teased, getting a squeeze on the hips in return.

“For you? Always.” He murmured against your jugular before stepping back under the shower head while pulling you with him, letting the now warm water fall down onto you both.

Groaning in delight at the feel of the warmth, you barely had any chance to silently enjoy it as John started back up on your neck, lightly biting at the sweet spot right where your shoulder met your neck, making you softly whine out.

“It’s time you truly relax, darling.” He whispered, his lips still pressed to your skin before he pulled back, the water having soaked his hair and beard, droplets running down his face, to his neck, before travelling down his chest where it tangled in the web of chest hair, running down his body.

“Eyes up here, sweetheart.” His deep gravel spoke as he placed a finger under your chin, lifting your head to face him.

“Can’t I look at the man I married?” You asked and John hummed, one of his hands travelling down to your ass where he lovingly squeezed.

“Not when said man has different plans for you.” He hummed. “All I wanna see from you right now, is your eyes closed in pleasure.”

Smiling cheekily, you ran your hand down his chest, feeling the grooves and dips of his muscles before you reached his happy trail, using your fingers to push right into the middle of it.

Feeling that, all the blood that hadn’t already - rushed to John’s cock as he became achingly hard, a little groan leaving him.

“Are you sure this is to see my eyes closed in pleasure?” You whispered and the man gave your butt another squeeze.

“Don’t see why it can’t be mutually beneficial.” He whispered before grabbing your chin and pulling you into a rough kiss.

Taking in a surprised breath, you felt John’s arms encircle your waist as he pulled you closer, his erection rubbing against your stomach while the water from the shower hit the back of his neck, streaming down on you as he kissed you, swiping his tongue across your lips.

Parting your lips without hesitation, you bucked your hips up into his, feeling him hum out a little groan, his cock twitching.

“You’re going to drive me insane.” He growled against your lips before continuing to kiss you, blindly reaching back to the shampoo rack.

Smiling into the kiss, you let your hands wander up and down his chest, slowly leading down to his aching cock again.

Gently taking hold of it, you angled it down to slide between your thighs and instantly, shots of arousal shot down your spine as you felt him buck his hips into you, his shaft rubbing through your labia, your arousal starting to coat it.

“Fuck, feel how easily I slide through, love.” John chuckled as he broke the kiss, continuing to thrust into your thighs a few times, your bottom lip between your teeth as that made him rub back and forth against your clit.

“John.” You whined softly and he chuckled.

Following your silent plea, you heard the sound of a bottle cap being flipped open, your eyes opening as you looked down, seeing John holding the lubricant in his hand that the both of you placed between the shampoo just for moments like this.

With the shower still raining down on you both, he squirted some onto his middle and ring finger, leading them down and starting to rub your entrance without hesitation.

“Hn-“ Stifling the little noise, you stayed put, feeling him teasingly rub back and forth over your slit, alternating between rubbing your clit and teasing your entrance.

With his cock still between your thighs, he slowly coated you in the lubricant, his fingers finally dipping inside, starting to spread the gel more while beginning to stretch you out.

“So pretty f’me.” He groaned softly against your temple, starting to lean his face down while his fingers moved further and further up inside you, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear right when he shoved his fingers in to the knuckle.

Whining, you held onto his biceps, your hips involuntarily bucking as you felt him curl his fingers inside you, the tips rubbing against your wall before he started to slowly move them.

“John-“ You whined and he let out a low chuckle.

“No, darling. Just sit pretty and take it.” He hummed, leaning in to press kisses to your neck before continuing. “I can’t taste you right now because if I try, I’ll drown, so this will have to do.” As he muttered that, his fingers started speeding up and you gasped, your fingernails digging into his arms.

“Fuck.” You whimpered, bucking your hips and John groaned, the friction to his shaft still buried between your thighs driving him insane.

“That’s it, beautiful.” He praised, lightly biting your neck. “Keep going.” As he said that, his fingers sped up, a third pushing in to stretch you further while his other hand shifted to the front of your hips, his thumb finding your clit.

A bolt of arousal shot through your stomach at the touch and you moaned, earning more praises from John as he steadily kept thrusting his fingers, bringing you closer and closer to release.

“Come on, darling, for me.” He muttered into your ear, his own hips starting to buck, only adding to the sensations for you. “I wanna see you come undone.” He growled, circling your clit in a gentle pressure that drove you insane.

“John!” You moaned, feeling your orgasm coming on.

“Eyes on me.” He whispered, kissing from your ear, down to your chin. “Let go, cum for me.”

Hearing the order, you nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as you clung tightly to him, your legs shaking as your orgasm wracked through you.

Moaning, your walls clenched around his fingers as you bucked your hips up, John continuing to rub your clit, making you whimper while you climaxed.

Revelling in the sounds you were making, John kept thrusting his fingers, prolonging your orgasm while you clung to him.

Panting and hot, finally you came down from your high and you shuddered, nearly sinking through your legs had it not been for your husband for you to hold on to. “Fuck.”

Smiling as he saw you, breathing heavily and standing on shaky legs, John wasted not a single second before slamming his lips to yours, pulling his fingers out of you as his arms encircled your waist.

Moaning softly into the kiss, you just closed your eyes, feeling his tongue delve into your mouth as one of his hands came up to the back of your head, his fingers sliding through your hair before he pulled your face even closer, leaving no room for anything but him.

Reaching up, your arms wrapped around his neck, and he groaned softly, his arm around your waist pulling your stomach into his, making your breath hitch as you felt his cock pushed up against your folds.

“I wanna hear you scream my name before we’re done, love.” He whispered as he broke the kiss and grabbed the lube once more, this time to rub onto himself before he positioned the tip at your entrance.

Grabbing his face, you just pulled him into another kiss, the both of you soaked from the shower as slowly you started pushing your hips down.

Groaning as his tip pushed inside, John grabbed your hips to still you as he then wasted no time, sliding in completely.

Feeling your walls clenching around him, John closed his eyes and breathed a little shuddering breath.

Holding you steady, he slowly began pulling out before thrusting back in, the lube doing its job as he moved.

Having been riled up for long enough already, John started up a fast pace, your breath escaping you as you moaned, your arms clinging to him for support as he began fucking you.

Safe to say, you were taking a thorough and lengthy break from work after this.

#hih kinktober 2023 #john price x reader #captain john price #captain john price x reader #john price #price x reader #captain price smut #cod x reader #john price smut

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apocalypseornaw · 1 month

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Look after You

Dean Winchester x Gender neutral Reader

You're hurt in a car accident and Dean takes care of you.

@hpxmcusworld I hope you enjoy

Dean was pacing the floor of the library, staring at his phone and silently begging it to ring. You should've been back by now. Why hadn't he gone with you?

"Still no word?” Sam asked, walking in behind him and he nearly growled “No. Man, can you track their phone,please?” Sam felt his heart drop at Dean's voice. He knew his brother loved you, he had for years and the thought of losing you terrified him. If after all the loss something happened to you Sam wasn't sure Dean would survive it.

Right as Sam got his laptop on, Dean's phone started blaring. Dean answered it and a voice he didn't recognize hit his ears “Is this Mister Dean Campbell?” He swallowed hard before saying “Yes” “We have your spouse here. They were brought in from an automobile accident”

“WHAT?” Dean felt his heart threaten to stop at that moment. His ears started ringing and his knees weakened. Sam moved to his side and took the phone, clicking the speaker on “Hello?” “Mister Campbell?” The doctor asked and Sam replied “This is his brother” “Oh well I was telling your brother we have his spouse in the emergency department. They were injured in an automobile accident. A drunk driver ran a stop sign and hit their car. They're stable but currently in for a CT scan. We need their emergency contact here as soon as possible” “We'll get there as soon as we can”

Your head was throbbing, the bright fluorescent lights were killing you. What was worse was according to the doctors you'd lost a few weeks. The last thing you remembered was Christmas and apparently it was St Patrick's Day weekend.

You were terrified and alone. The doctor had told you he called Dean but he hadn't arrived yet. You knew he'd be to your side soon though.

—-----------

The moment you were wheeled out of the room for the scan however you heard Dean's voice loud and clear “Where are they at? You called me and told me they're hurt, then I got here and what? You fucking lost them?”

You laughed lightly and the nurse smiled “That him?” You grinned “Yes ma'am” already feeling better knowing Dean was here. He'd take care of you.

You sat on your bed with Dean's arm wrapped protectively around you. He hadn't moved since he got to your side. As always Sam was being the more diplomatic one, handling paperwork and talking to doctors. “I should go find the asshole that hit you and rip his lungs out” he grumbled and you smiled, curling into his side “They said I'll be ok Dean. It's just a concussion and should heal on its own” he nodded “Doesn't mean I'm not still pissed someone hurt you. I'm pissed at them and at myself. I never should've let you go alone”

You sighed knowing this was an argument you'd lose. Of course Dean was blaming himself instead of the person who chose to drink way too much and get behind the wheel.

After about an hour Sam came in pushing a wheelchair “Good news. Your awesome brother in law talked the doctor into letting you go home. We have a list of aftercare precautions but given our history with injuries I'm sure we can handle it” you cut your eyes at Dean who sighed “about time. I want to get you back to the bunker”

“I can walk!” You squealed when Dean picked you up out of the backseat and headed out of the garage and towards your shared room. He nodded “I know but I'm not taking no chances of hurting you further. Cas will be here in two days to heal you. Until then you're not getting out of my sight”

Once you made it to the room he sat you gently down on the bed then dug in the dresser pulling out one of his own shirts and a pair of his boxers. At your look he rolled his eyes “Don't act like you don't enjoy wearing my clothes more than yours anyways” He did have a point.

He treated you like you were made of glass as he stripped you of the scrubs the hospital had given you and dressed you in his clothes. Once he was sure you were comfortable he kicked off his boots and crawled into bed next to you, pulling you over on his chest “You need anything baby?”

You shook your head “I remember Christmas. Can you catch me up?” He smiled before catching your lips in a gentle kiss “Of course”

—---------------

Before you fell asleep Dean sat multiple alarms to wake you up at the needed intervals. Once you were out he laid there, watching your chest rise and fall gently. He needed the assurance you were ok.

He loved you more than he'd ever dreamt of loving someone. When he met you he was knocked off his feet by how much he wanted you the moment he laid eyes on you but then he got to know you. Every conversation, every hunt, every late night talk he fell deeper and deeper.

The day he realized he loved you wasn't a big scene or anything memorable really. You were sitting in Bobby's kitchen, helping him make salt rounds and humming under your breath. When he'd walked into the room you met his eyes and smiled and he'd felt like he'd been hit by a truck when the realization hit him that you owned his heart and he had no intention of ever asking for it back.

If something had happened to you…no he wouldn't go down that rabbit hole. You were here, alive and he'd make sure from now on he was always at your side. Logically he knew he couldn't have stopped a wreck but his heart wasn't hearing that. You were his and he would be damned before anything ever hurt you again.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x gn!reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction

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imaginesandbandfiction · 3 months

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Triad Part 7 — Trouble in Paradise

A Cazriel x Reader Headcanon

A/N: MFW the silly little smut drabble series I started over winter break starts developing a plot :o

Lmaooo I should have seen this coming. Be patient with me, I'm in a creative writing MFA program so fanfic isn't my priority rn but this series is begging to be written so I'm going to follow those vibes as far as they take me, just bear with me if updates are sporadic.

Click here to be added to the taglist so you never miss an update!

Warnings: Angst, some smut

Of course, there’s a learning curve that comes with a Triad Bond. Sex is the easy part—being in a relationship with two bullheaded Illyrian males is more complicated.

Rhys tried his best not to send any of you on solo missions but, inevitably, something came up and Azriel had to go undercover in the Court of Nightmares. It’s a top-secret mission and he has to block you and Cassian out the entire time he’s there, lest someone learn the true reason for his visit.

And… it was a lot easier to be a spy without two mates waiting for him back home. His mental shields are ironclad, trapping all the frustration and sadness behind closed doors, but it seeps out in other ways. His shadows are way more vicious than they normally are and, after long days spent playing nice with Keir and his cronies, as soon as his bedroom door locks behind him, he fists his cock in quick strokes. It takes a matter of minutes for him to spill himself into the mattress with how pent-up he is.

Things aren’t much better in Velaris. Sure, you and Cas have each other, but the bond hates the dark hole where Az should be and no matter how hard you try to soothe the ache, it never goes away.

Cassian throws himself into training; on days he doesn’t have other work to do, he flies out to Windhaven and spends the day beating the shit out of anyone who dares challenge him. When he comes home late at night, you patch him up with soft, delicate touches and hold him until his tears dry up.

Sex isn’t the same without Azriel there, either. You try to hold out; it feels wrong without him, but everything boils over a week into his absence.

Cassian spent the day in Windhaven, again, and you wait up with a book and a cup of tea but it’s morning when he slams through the door drenched in blood and reeking like the mixed-together contents of a liquor cabinet.

“Cas?” You mumble, lifting your head off the couch cushion and rubbing your eyes as you push yourself into a sitting position. He stomps past you into the bedroom and you hear the water running as he fills the bath. Stifling a yawn, you push through the nausea swirling in your gut and follow him on your tiptoes.

When you push the washroom door open, you see his broad shoulders bent over the edge of the half-filled tub, bloodied and shaking with the force of his sobs.

You surge forward and fall to your knees next to him, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” you whisper, rubbing his back. His head drops to your chest and you feel his rumbling anger in your soul.

Y/N? It’s Rhys’ voice in your head, tentative and sheepish. Is he okay?

No, you snarl back, immediately feeling guilt for the harshness of your words. But Ariel is gone, Cassian is broken, and your heart is torn in two. You force yourself to be gentler as you ask: Is there something I should know?

Rhys hesitates. Devlon called me in to fetch him this morning and… it wasn’t pretty. I’ll send word to Madja and tell her you’re going to be out for a few days.

Before you can protest, he continues. I know you’ve been working overtime. You’re running yourself ragged, Y/N. You need a break just as much as he does.

Rhysand cuts off the mental connection in the middle of your indignant huff, but the gears in your mind are turning. Instead of turning to each other in Az’s absence, you’ve been burying yourselves in solitude and work. Clearly, something has to change.

You loosen the strip of leather holding Cas’s hair up and sprinkle deep purple healing magic into it as you run your fingers through his thick locks. It’s just enough to calm him down, sobs tapering off into shuddering breaths.

“Cas?” You ask when he finally stills, slumping boneless against you. “Whose blood is this?”

He tilts his head back, guilt filling in every line on his face, and your heart clenches. No wonder Rhys offered to talk to Madja for you; he probably needed her to fix whatever damage Cassian’s misplaced anger had caused.

“‘M sorry,” Cas whispers, burying his face in your neck again. “I didn’t mean to, I just…”

“Shhh,” you shushed him, curling one arm to cradle his head. “I know you didn’t, baby. Rhys does too. This is new territory for all of us, and there were bound to be some kinks to work out.” Cas nods against you and you squeeze him as tight as you can, channeling love and healing magic through the bond. Behind you, the tub is full of steamy hot water, so you wave your hand to get rid of Cas’s clothes and help him into the bath.

When he’s settled, you shed your nightgown and get in with him. He rests his head against the side of the tub and lets you run a bar of soap over the planes of his muscles, healing bruises and scrapes as you find them.

"Thank you," he whispers once you’ve finished. He reaches one hand out and pulls you against his chest without opening his eyes.

The bond settles as much as it can without a third anchor to tether itself to. You lay there, basking in the soft glow of your mingling magic, until suddenly Cassian stands up, pushing you off him.

“Sorry,” he grunts when you fall forward, splashing into the water. “I just…” You follow his gesturing hand down the V of his hips and the problem stares out at you—long, thick, and hard. “I dunno, it feels wrong without Az.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, torn between the mouth-watering sight of him on display, just inches from your face, and the guilt bubbling up inside you. In the end, the bond makes the decision for you, practically shoving you forward to pull Cas’s cock in between your lips.

His protests are dead on arrival; you don’t even hear them, too focused on pouring all your pent-up sexual frustration out onto him.

After just a few minutes, his hips are bucking wildly and he forces himself to pull back. You look up at him with wide eyes and saliva dripping down your chin, and he growls, tugging you out of the tub so he can shove you against the wall. He drops to his knees and drapes one of your legs over his shoulder, devouring you like a man starved.

With no patience left for teasing, he fucks you with his tongue, plunging deep into your core until you’re writhing against him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, tumbles out of your head and into his as the pleasure builds and builds.

That's it, baby, he sends back down the bond, digging into your sweet spot with one of his fingers. Let go for me.

Your body follows his command, the tightly wound coil inside of you snapping as soon as you have permission. He grins against you as you fuck his face, riding out your high.

As soon as he pulls away, he’s got his hands under your ass, hauling you up into his arms as he presses his cock into your slick folds. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively as your head drops back against the wall.

It’s quick and dirty. Without Azriel there to force you to slow down and savor each other, you’re teetering on the edge of a second orgasm before you’ve fully recovered from the first. Cassian’s thrusts grow sloppier and you feel through the bond that his release is looming.

When he ducks his head to pull one of your nipples between his teeth, both of you lose the last of your self-control. Cas drives his hips into you and fills you up, tipping you over the cliff. You clench your walls around him as your release comes gushing out.

Meanwhile, in one of the training rooms under the mountain, a wave of something washes over Az as he’s running through drills against a training dummy with Truth Teller. At first, he thinks it’s nausea and regrets not stopping by the kitchens to grab a bite earlier, but the ache is too low to be coming from his stomach.

When he reaches one gloved hand to palm himself through his leathers, he’s shocked to find his cock solid and straining against the fabric. He thanks the Mother that he’s training alone today and makes quick work of it.

Three weeks into Az’s mission, Mor heads under the mountain to check on him under the guise of visiting her father. She enters the dining room and immediately realizes that something is wrong. There’s a woman sitting to Kier’s right, and Az is on her other side. His shadows nip at Mor’s toes like she’s the enemy as she takes her seat on her father’s left.

He refuses to speak to her, but when they make eye contact during dessert, his eyes are dark and stormy, filled with shadows of their own.

When she retires to her room later that night, she reports back to Rhys who orders her to pull Az out as soon as she can.

Despite the fact that they haven’t slept together in decades, it’s easy to slip back into old habits. The next morning at breakfast, she lays it on thick. By dinner time, her father merely waves them off when she requests the Shadowsinger for her own personal reasons.

“Go on then,” he grunts, rolling his eyes. “I’ll let the High Lord know when I require your presence next.”

As soon as they’ve both gathered their belongings, Mor winnows them away. When his feet touch solid ground, Az shoves her away with a snarl. His shadows surge forward to cushion her back and prevent her from falling; even blinded by his anger, he doesn't want to hurt her.

“What the fuck,” he growls. “I wasn’t done!”

“I have orders to pull you out of there. Rhys thinks you’ve gone in too deep.” Az growls like a feral animal being forced into a cage.

“Rhysand needs me in there now more than ever. Something’s happening, Mor. Something big, and I was working my way in, I—“

Mor cuts him off, holding a hand up to silence him.

“You think I don’t know that? Whether I like it or not, that’s my father. I know something’s up, but Rhys needs you in there, Azriel. And you’re not you right now. You’re cold and ruthless, not thinking clearly after too much time away from your mates.”

Az deflates and drops onto the sofa behind him. It’s the worn old leather one in Rhys’s mother’s cottage, in Windhaven. Mor sits down next to him, rubbing a hand across his shoulders, careful to avoid brushing against his wings which are rigid and full of tension.

“It’s not your sole responsibility to save the world, Az. You’re an excellent spy, but you’re more than that, too. Don’t let the tunnel vision take over.”

Az drops his head into his hands, letting out all of the air in his lungs with one deep sigh. He knows she’s right, that the bond should be a strength and not a weakness, but he’s terrified that something will happen to his mates. He couldn’t risk it, not when he was down there.

But that wasn’t his decision to make alone. The more he fought against the bond, the more it fought back, rattling his brain and tugging at every one of his senses. The effort to keep it bottled up drained his energy until all he could see was the mission, his purpose. Gathering information about the woman, Amarantha, became the most important thing in his life.

So he feels like a bit of an asshole when he turns up on your doorstep with his rucksack slung over one shoulder and only a faint shimmer of the bond left flickering inside his chest. It’s not enough to keep him tethered to the two of you, so he has no idea how you're feeling, but he forces himself to knock on the door, anyway.

“Hi,” you whisper, letting your arm drop from the doorknob to your side. On your end, the bond bursts into bright golden flames that shoot down, making a beeline for Azriel.

It tugs at Cas’s side, too, and then his head pops up behind your shoulder.

“Hi,” he says, flashing the dopiest grin that Azriel has ever seen.

Taglist: @wallacewillow0773638 @hnyclover

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zmediaoutlet · 14 days

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"Dean, this is stupid—" Sam starts, but he shuts right up when Dean grabs his head down and kisses him, and he also kisses back so clearly it ain't that stupid, is it. Grabs Dean's waist on automatic and his tongue's, yeah, hot and there, ready, even as he mumbles some crap against Dean's mouth about how there's no time and there's a job to do and, yeah, like Dean doesn't know that? But—

"You aren't ruining this for me," Dean says. Even if it's looking like there's a good chance of it. He drops down onto his bootheels and Sam raises his eyebrows with this face like Dean's the dumbest person he knows and even if that's maybe true a lot of the time it's not true this time. Dean's—almost positive. "C'mon, man. We're in the actual wild west, here. There's gonna be a posse. Are you kidding? This is the best day ever."

Dark as hell in the 1800s but there's enough moonlight that Dean can see Sam's expression complicating into some new, more elaborate version of the you're stupid face. "Dude, we have—like, no time. Cas is gonna come pick us up at noon, no matter what."

Dean tips his hat back, slides his hand down to cup the front of Sam's jeans. Grins at what he finds, especially when Sam's eyelids flicker. "We're experienced cowpokes, here. Give me ten minutes."

"Never say cowpoke in this context," Sam says. Not exactly soft, that big familiar bulge filling Dean's palm just like it always has. He glances toward the street, down through the muddy alley, sweeps his own hat off his head, holding it out and to the side almost like he's trying to hide how Dean's going for his belt, zip, permission not exactly stated aloud but Dean was being honest about the experience, he knows permission when he's got it.

God—yeah. Crisp hair and the thick root getting thicker. Dean smiles up with his tongue between his teeth and in the moonlight it's hard to tell but he bets Sam's cheeks are red.

"You're an idiot," Sam breathes. Oh, yeah. Red-faced. His chest heaving. "We get caught we're gonna get hanged, man."

Dean lifts a shoulder, crowding in closer. Sam's hand slides to his ass, squeezes. "Sheriff's busy," he says. He nudges his nose under Sam's jaw and grips his dick at the same time. "Anyway. Boy, they said you was hung—"

Burst of laughter that Sam muffles against Dean's shoulder—Dean grins, even if Sam knocks his hat askew—and Sam drops fully back against the rough-board siding, spreads his boots so Dean can crush in close. Dean opens up his own jeans, quick, kissing Sam's jaw and picturing it—when they're back in the world with modern plumbing and beds and whiskey that doesn't taste like the ass-end of a Ford Pinto—getting Sam into the clothes Dean bought and getting that hat back on his head and really getting his share of schnitzengruben—but god, it's fun now too, in the mud with their boots knocking together and Sam's hand plunging in to grip him whole-handed, hot. Goddamn, cowboy.

"They was right," Sam says, quiet, and only Dean could hear but he laughs too, sniggering up against Sam's throat. Okay, so this is stupid, but Sam's hand is on his dick and they've got—less than ten minutes. Dean braces his boots better in the mud and slides his hand up under Sam's shirt, feels the hair on his belly. His gut warm and knowing the world's teetering in the balance but when isn't it, damn. He gets ten minutes, goofing around with his brother.

"First one to shoot owes the other a sarsaparilla," Dean says, and Sam groans and crams his hat back on his own head, says, "Shut up," but he grips Dean by the neck and kisses him and grips Dean by the nuts and then drags his fingers up the root and tugs up the shaft and slides his thumb sweet, sweet, right there, where it counts—okay, so maybe Dean spoke too soon about the sarsaparilla.

(Later—much later—at a motel after they clear out of Bobby's house and Cas is sent on his way and Dean's not looking forward, at all, to stripping out of his awesome sheriff's outfit, and thinking about whether he could keep it at the storage locker in Black Rock without Sam somehow finding out—Sam says, you're the worst, and Dean says why this time, hardly paying attention, and Sam says, you got any idea how awful it is to ride a horse with your shorts all caked in jizz? and then, while Dean's bent over whooping with laughter, Sam stripping miserably out of his jeans, Sam says, you still owe me that sarsaparilla, and Dean has to sit on the floor, shoulders shaking, before he says, yeah, Sammy, eyes streaming, yeah, I'll get right on that, and Sam says you better but when Dean wipes his face he sees that Sam's looking at him that way Sam sometimes does when things are good, so. Dean was right, wasn't he. Best day ever.)

#happy wincest wednesday #my writing #ww lottery #a random ficlet for episode 122 #it's been fuckin shitty out here fam #so have some giggles barely in context

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yustea · 3 months

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I’m so obsessed with camboy!Felix and that you stumble on his stream and he somehow ends up fucking you (maybe your his neighbor or something) or the reverse that you’re a camgirl yk?

OMG YES I SEE IT

For me if he got walked in on/walked in on you in the act I feel like it could go two ways; super soft shy bby OR (if he was walked in on) super soft, loving dom 🤭

Like imagine you come home to hearing deep soft murmurs coming from your shared bedroom and you sneak a peek behind the open door; seeing him bare chest, his large hands snaking down his abs and teasingly tugging at the strings of his grey sweat pants. But when he looks up and see her peeking your head in?? 🤭🤭

BABY WOULD BE SOOO FLUSTERED, ESPECIALLY IF YALL JUST STARTED DATING/HE HASN’T TOLD YOU ABT THIS YET

He’d start getting all flustered and stutter, completely freezing and not knowing what to do.

He’d also start profusely mumbling apologies and try to turn the camera off (but bro would fumble it so hard cause his hands would be shaking)

But if you start doing a strip tease behind the camera?

And you seductively stroll towards him?

Using that Dom fem energy that so easily short circuits his brain?? And makes him such a good little boy to play with?? 🤭🤭

His ears would def go so red it’d hurt but you didn’t hear that from me

He would utterly just submit to you and let you do as you please, leading for you to take your sweet time with him as you praise his sculpted body and how he is such a good little baby boy for you 🫠

(I think this would also apply if Felix accidentally walked in on YOU doing a cam show - poor baby would feel so guilty invading your space :(( But if you asked him to join and be a good boy?? Hands down he would be at your beck and call 🤭🤭)

HOWEVER.

Soft Dom Felix?? 🤭🤭

This is where I picture him being more comfortable with you and he’s told you abt what he does and he trusts that you won’t judge.

As soon as he hears the door creak open, he’s already looking at you with that sweet, flirtatious gaze and shamelessly grazing his gaze down your beautiful body 🤭🤭

DEF A LAZY SMIRK ON HIS FACE

He’ll continue performing for the camera; his hand trailing into his pants and teasingly grips his cock and letting out a low groan/whimper.

HE’D DEF COO AT YOU IN THAT SWEET VOICE SAYING SHIT LIKE “nawww is baby needy?” “Do they need someone to help them?” “Cmon come here and lets give our audience a real show” 🫠

He’d make you face the camera (always checking if you were okay with sharing your beautiful body with the viewers 🫠🫠) and would praise you constantly and just be soooo gentle 🫠🫠

(I don’t really see him as much as a condescending Dom but if you had kinks that he knew abt?? HE’D DEF USE THEM TO HIS ADVANTAGE)

He’d be kissing and nipping all over your neck whilst fingering you, taking his sweet time as he slowly made you fall apart while you watched 🫠

DEF WOULD MAKE YOU READ OUT THE COMMENTS AS HE’S FUCKING YOU IN REVERSE COWGIRL

“Hmm what did you say love?”

“*username* said ‘p-poor b-baby ca-n’t h-handle mu-ch m-more, t-they’re g-gonna c-come u-undone s-soon”

“Naaww you think so? My sweet little baby is gonna cum are they?”

KASHKSHAKAWJIDHDKWHEKAHSKX 🫠🫠🫠

(I’m starting to get a bit to infatuated with this but LEMME KNOW IF I SHOULD MAKE THIS INTO A FIC)

BYEYEYE I LOVE YOU ALL HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT 😚😚

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clairenatural · 6 months

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hey sorry to ask you but what is the destiel lamppost thing? if u know what it is

Hi anon!!! I wasn't ignoring you I just wanted to be able to sit down and type out the lore.

So "why lamp"/the destiel lamp thing starts with 15x10, The Heroes' Journey, in which Dean and Sam are stripped of the luck/protections that being written as protagonists gives them by Chuck (very meta) and Dean ends up needing cavities filled.

Garth gives him laughing gas for the procedure, during which Dean has a dream of a black and white 50s style dance sequence. It takes place in the bunker and while initially it's Dean dancing with Garth, eventually Garth leaves and Dean runs over to pick up a lamp from the corner of the room to dance with. Here's the whole thing:

youtube

But once it's Dean and the lamp, the dance becomes markedly more romantic - he's dancing with the lamp as a partner, not like the tap dancing he and Garth do side-by-side.

Also important to note that they're dancing to "Let's Misbehave," which is about sex and also was written by Cole Porter, who was gay. This is a really good breakdown of the dance itself, the significance of the song and Cole Porter and its connections to old queer Hollywood.

At the end of the episode, Dean sees Bess and Garth dancing in their living room through the window and says "You know, I always thought I could be a good dancer if I wanted to be."

This is pretty clearly associating the dream sequence, and Dean dancing with a lamp, as about Dean longing for a partner and therefore the lamp as a stand-in for that partner.

NOW. Meta was written as soon as this episode aired with people linking the lamp to Cas, and there has continued to be much better meta than I can write here - this one is in-depth and connects it to themes across the seasons and Dean's years-long character arc. "Cas is Lamp" even has its own superwiki page.

But besides all the normal meta deancas reasons and the fact that this comes at a time when Dean's character arc had been building both to him wanting to settle down with someone AND that someone being Cas (this is the episode right after The Trap and Dean's "I should have stopped you/of course I forgive you" prayer), Cas (and angels broadly) is associated with light and lamps throughout the series, perhaps most iconically in 4x16.

So, after 15x18, "the lamp thing" was something frequently cited and that we held onto as another thing they'd dropped alluding to (nay, ensuring - because they'd surely somehow have to wrap up Dean's own arc of wanting a partner to settle down with) a happy deancas endgame where Cas is rescued and they live happily ever after.

And then. 15x20 happened. And "why lamp" took off as part of a long list of "if they were just never going to mention Cas again, let alone resolve the confession or this very key part of Dean's story arc of wanting to settle down, why did they include [long list of things that make no sense with the ending we got]." Why lamp has become shorthand for a long list of missing links and loose ends and things that just don't add up. If deancas wasn't going to be the happy endgame, then why lamp. Why did they drop so many clues and work up to a very clear resolution for Dean's character arc if they were just going to drop it. Why lamp. It's one of those things that will haunt us because we will never get an answer. Okay grandma, let's get you to bed. But why lamp.

#ok im assuming this is what you meant by destiel lamppost thing lol #if it wasnt im sorry and behind on the times #but there is another anon in my inbox asking about why lamp so hopefully this helps them!#answered #anonymous #long post

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onlymonica · 6 months

Text

She had such a brief career in Hollywood.

Her agent says 'Look doll face, you've got the vixen look, but I'm not sure you have the vixen personality.'

'Whaddaya mean?' I asked incredulously. Don't all you fellas just want a girl with big curves?

'Yeah, sorta. Anyway, that's what starts the conversation. But what you need is what Ava Gardner, Raquel Welch, and Brigette Bardot all have. You need that mysterious feminine lure that tantalizes men. And honey, you just ain't got that.

I can probably set you up with a few minor roles as a stripper, or a hussy. Can you huss for me? Nah, that ain't gonna work. I'll put you down as a stripper.'

And so, she stripped, and stripped, and stripped some more. She practiced daily in front of her picture window to overcome stage fright. The neighborhood boys loved it - in fact, they all stopped playing stickball so they could play with other sticks.

Over time, she vanished from the studio lots and spent her remaining years in a trailer park in Barstow, CA.

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theostrophywife · 2 years

Text

unholy.

masterlist (azriel x reader) author's note: once again, this fic is inspired by a song which the full version of actually just released today! unholy by sam smith and kim petras is the ultimate strip club vibes so you know i had to write an azriel piece about it. warning: public stripping, thigh riding, lap dances, daddy kink and mutual masturbation. honestly, take your pick and it's there. summary: tired of being the innocent one out of the inner circle, you show azriel your unholy fantasies.

It started out as a stupid dare.

Get up on stage and dance.

A simple enough task, propositioned by the one and only Morrigan. She didn't think you would actually do it. To be fair, you didn’t think you would either, but against better judgment, you found yourself agreeing. Fueled by strong faerie wine and the company of your friends, you were determined to let tonight be the night that you finally let loose.

What started out as a spontaneous performance with the burlesque dancers on stage somehow snowballed into giving Azriel a very suggestive, very seductive, and very unexpected lap dance in one of the private rooms at Rita’s.

But you were getting to that.

In hindsight, perhaps things had gotten a little out of hand, but at least now no one could ever accuse you of holding back.

Out of your circle of friends, you were always considered the innocent one. The sweet and demure healer who blushed at Cassian’s flirtatious remarks and balked at Mor’s suggestive dares. It wasn’t like you were inexperienced, but your hesitation and reluctance when it came to the inner circle's wilder antics unintentionally created a good girl persona for yourself that couldn’t be further from who you really were.

In truth, you were just a notorious overthinker and it took awhile for you to get comfortable showing others your true colors. The majority of the time, you were perfectly content letting everyone chalk it up to shyness, but tonight Cassian’s teasing managed to get under your skin.

“There’s no way you’re going up there, honey.”

Even the nickname, dubbed by the Illyrian general to commemorate your first meeting at Madja’s clinic when you smeared honey salve on his once tattered wings, alluded to your supposedly saccharine nature. The rest of your friends spurred you on to join the burlesque dancer beckoning you onto the stage. All except the shadowsinger, who offered an apologetic smile on behalf of his brother.

“Don’t listen to Cas. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

The remark was incredibly thoughtful of Azriel, but unbeknownst to him, it contained just the right amount of challenge to nudge you out of your comfort zone. You were tired of everyone assuming that you were coy and naive and perhaps showing them a different side of you would change their assumptions, Azriel included. Though the shadowsinger never made you feel ashamed of your more cautious approach, you wanted him to see you as more than the designated innocent member of the inner circle.

“What if I want to?” you ask with a raised brow.

The mischievous grin that spread across his beautiful face sent shivers down your spine. “Then you’d be making every male in this place very, very happy.”

With a wicked smile, you rose from your seat and tossed your jacket at Cassian who stared after you in disbelief before launching into a deafening cheer. Beside him, Rhys and Feyre clapped while Mor whistled. Amren smirked over the top of her wine glass, but Nesta, who was the only friend who had ever witnessed your wild side first hand thanks to your countless girls night out with the Valkyries, simply mouthed a message of encouragement.

Give them hell.

Your skin buzzed with anticipation as you climbed up onto the makeshift stage at Rita’s, sidling in next to the pretty pixie who twirled you around towards the audience.

“And who is this pretty little thing joining us tonight?”

You blushed, blinking under the bright faelights pointed in your direction. The varying colors flashed with every shade of the rainbow. “You can call me honey.”

The dancer laughs in delight as the roaring cheer of your friends echo through the pleasure hall. “Let’s see if you’ve got some sting to you, honeybee.”

With a snap of her fingers, the faelights dimmed and the music filtered through the room. A smoky blue spotlight kissed you with its hazy ring while fog skittered through your ankles. The pulsating beat thrummed through your body, drowning out your nerves with its seductive rhythm. You must have watched the burlesque dancers perform this routine half a dozen times and while it was more daring than your classical ballet training, the music flowed through your body all the same.

Your hips swayed to the beat, losing yourself in the fluid movements of the dance. Leaning forward, you trace the outline of your leg, fingertips skirting along your supple skin, and stopping right above the hem of your dress. Teasing the audience, you allow the skirts to ride up to your thighs, giving them a brief glimpse of the lace garter holding up your thigh high stockings.

The crowd was rambunctious as you winked before turning around and unzipping the zipper on the side of your dress. The dainty floral fabric slipped off with ease, revealing the lace nightgown that you were wearing underneath. You kicked the dress off to the side of the stage with your right heel, eliciting a roar of cheers from the audience.

Mor was full on standing and whistling between her fingers. Teetering beside her, Feyre squealed in delight while Rhysand jokingly covered his eyes. Amren raised an amused brow while Nesta merely smiled. Her mate was the most boisterous of the group, letting the entirety of Rita’s know that it was his friend up there currently stripping for them.

But it was Azriel’s gaze - golden and burning - that pierced right through you. The way the shadowsinger was looking at you made you feel more exposed than the act of undressing in front of nearly half the citizens of Velaris.

Tossing your dark hair over your shoulders, you shot him a quick wink. He leaned forward to the edge of his seat, elbows pressed against the top of his knees while he watched you with unveiled scrutiny. Shadows peered over his shoulders, plunging him into a deeper darkness than the already dim lighting of the pleasure hall.

Azriel had opted out of his usual dark leathers tonight and was instead donning a casual dark button up and black trousers. Thanks to the current heat wave in Velaris, the shadowsinger left the first few buttons of his shirt open, giving you a full view of the sprawling tattoos inked upon his golden brown skin. As if that weren't enough to give you heart palpitations, he'd also rolled up the sleeves to his elbows to showcase his strong arms. Your gaze immediately dropped down to the large veins covering them and immediately felt a bead of sweat slide down your back at the sight. Perhaps it was a peculiar thing to find attractive, but this was Azriel. The male made the act of breathing look like a masterpiece.

The other dancers gyrated around you and the pretty pixie gripped your waist, turning you once more to show you off to the crowd, but Azriel’s eyes remained solely fixed on you. An easy smile broke through his usual cool demeanor and a shiver went through your spine when he rose, those powerful wings of his flaring behind his back as he raised a glass in your direction.

You swallowed thickly as he tipped the glass to his lips, the crimson wine sliding into his mouth and tinting those plush lips of his a deliciously wicked red color. Azriel never once broke eye contact while his pink tongue darted across his bottom lip, licking away the remnants of the alcohol.

It was undoubtedly the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen.

Perhaps that single flirtatious gesture was to blame for what happened next.

After wrapping up your brief stint as a burlesque dancer, the drinks flowed and the party migrated to the private room reserved for you and your friends at the back of the building. As you made your way through the packed crowd, several people congratulated you on your performance and some even offered to buy you a drink. Never mind that you couldn’t recall the last time you paid a single coin out of your pocket for your countless nights out thanks to Rhysand’s open tab. You wouldn’t be surprised if the High Lord was singlehandedly funding this pleasure hall on the inner circle's supply of wine alone.

Cassian waved off your admirers, drunkenly draping an arm over your shoulder. “Who the hell knew you had it in you, honey?”

“I did,” Nesta announces proudly. “That was tame compared to the moves I’ve seen her unleash at the tavern.”

You blushed, sticking a tongue out at your friend. “That was supposed to be our secret, Nes!”

Mor chuckled, falling in step beside you. “Cat’s out of the bag now. Our honeybee is a certified smoke show. That little striptease was hotter than the Cauldron.” The blonde’s mischievous sights settled on Azriel. “Wasn’t she on fire up there, Az?”

You elbowed the blonde, but she only grinned in response.

“You brought the whole damn house down, honey.”

Azriel’s words swept over you like a torrential wind. His gaze stayed glued on you all night, serving as your own little spotlight and burning brighter than the faelights from earlier.

As you slid into the booth next to him, your body thrummed from post adrenaline rush. You hadn’t bothered to put your dress back on, opting to stay in the skimpy little nightgown that left barely a sliver to the imagination. Goosebumps prickled your skin as you scooted closer to Azriel, arms and thighs touching as Nesta and Cassian sandwiched the two of you towards the end of the table.

The familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar enveloped you on all sides. To your left, Nesta shot you a knowing look which you rebuffed with a subtle shake of your head.

Make a move, she mouthed.

Fuck off, you responded.

The brunette smirked and inclined her chin towards Azriel, who was looking at you expectantly. The boldness from earlier weaned under the intensity of his gaze. Despite Nesta’s urging, you couldn’t muster up the courage to make the first move. You’ve been crushing on Azriel since the moment Cassian had dragged him into Madja’s clinic, fussing and fighting against receiving treatment for a mild injury to his wing.

You’d pulled out a sharp basilisk tooth, threatening to inject him with venom if he didn’t allow you to patch up his wing. Azriel had taken to you instantly after that, often dropping by the clinic to eat lunch with you or walk you home after a long day of tending to gruesome wounds.

You cherished the friendship you had with him, but there were times when you wanted more. Tonight being one of them.

Because in the midst of the loud, crowded room, you only really had eyes for Azriel.

The shadowsinger smiles, draping an arm over your shoulder. A silver necklace peeked out from his exposed chest, settling into the hard planes of his muscles while he scooted closer. “I meant what I said earlier,” he states over the blaring music. “You were great up there.”

“Thank you. It’s been a while since I’ve been on stage.”

Azriel squeezes your arm. “I’m only sorry that I never got to see you perform at the ballet.”

You smile. He knew how much you loved dancing. When you met, you had just finished your stint as prima ballerina at the Velaris Ballet and shifted towards turning your volunteer work at Madja’s clinic into a full time job, though it never really felt like one. You liked helping people too much to consider it work.

“Perhaps I’ll give you a private performance one of these days.”

Just like that, the boldness was back with a vengeance.

Azriel raises a brow. “Feeling daring tonight, are we?”

You shrug nonchalantly. “The night’s still young. Who knows what sort of trouble Cas and Mor have in store for us?”

You nod towards your friends, who were now dancing atop a table at the corner of the room. The wood creaked underneath their weight, but the two didn’t seem to notice.

The shadowsinger chuckled beside you, his fingers skimming the side of your neck. They drummed a pleasant little pattern on your skin as you gulped down a sip of your wine.

“Sorry about their teasing. They can get a little out of hand sometimes.”

“It’s alright, I knew what I signed up for when I agreed to come out tonight,” you glance up at him, cheeks heating from a mixture of the alcohol and your close proximity to the Illyrian warrior. “Besides, it was time for me to come out of my comfort zone.”

“Speaking of comfort zones,” Nesta interjects. “I think it’s time for a drinking game.”

Your friend beckoned her mate over and the rest of the inner circle followed suit. You raised a brow at Nesta, who rarely ever initiated these games. She shot a feral smile at you, which told you all that you needed to know. You were in deep shit.

“What are we playing, Nes?” Cassian asked.

A mischievous smile spread across the female’s face. “Truth or drink.” She lined up the shot glasses in the middle of the table, filling each one to the brim with alcohol. “The person next to you gets to ask a question. You can choose to either answer truthfully or take the shot.”

Mor smirked. “This should be fun.”

Nesta nodded to the blonde, who was sitting right next to her youngest sister. “Looks like you’re up first, Feyre. Mor, will you do the honors?”

The devious smile that spread across the beautiful female’s face was downright wicked as she nodded. She tilted her head, examining Feyre. “Out of all of the High Lords, who do you think is the kinkiest in bed?”

You snorted as Feyre’s eyes went wide. Sheepishly, she mouthed a sorry to Rhys. “Helion, for sure.”

Cassian hooted, clapping his brother on the back. “Don’t take offense, brother. The High Lord of Day would put any of us to shame.”

Rhys grinned. “None taken. Helion can take the prize for kinkiest, as long as I’m still the most handsome High Lord in your eyes, Feyre darling.”

“Get a room, you two,” Amren said with a roll of her eyes. She gestured to Feyre. “Now do us all a favor and ask your mate something to knock him down a few pegs.”

Feyre nodded, determined. “You once told me that you, Cas, and Az measured wingspans. To settle the age-old argument, who has the biggest wings?”

The High Lord chuckled. “Easy. It’s Az.”

Everyone glanced at Azriel, who only shrugged in response. Morrigan raised a brow. “Follow up question, if Az has the biggest wings then does my theory about its correlation to other body parts hold up as well?”

Naturally, your gaze drifted to the shadowsinger who winked in response. He leaned in, shadows wafting over him like smoke. “Don’t tell me you’re curious too.”

“Maybe I am,” you shot back flirtatiously. “For scientific purposes, of course.”

“Of course,” Azriel echoes, squeezing your knee under the table. His hand remained there even as you both drew your attention back to the game at hand.

Rhysand raised the shot glass in his hands. “Now that’s one secret I’ll never tell, cousin.” The High Lord tipped the liquor back and grimaced from the burn of the alcohol.

His laser focus was upon Mor at once, stars winking into his violet eyes. “I think I speak for everyone when I say that this is a question all of us are dying to know. When are you finally going to ask Emerie out?”

The blonde shot her cousin a glare. It had been nearly a year since Morrigan finally felt comfortable sharing the truth about her sexuality and all of your friends had been extremely supportive. On top of that, each of you were particularly invested in her budding romance with the Illyrian female.

“Emerie and I actually already went out last week.”

A chorus of gasps and inquiries erupted from your friends. Derailed by this new revelation, you watched in amusement as Cassian grilled the blonde for details. Sipping your wine, you tried to look everywhere but the hand resting on your knee. The front of your dress had slightly ridden up your thigh so Azriel’s fingers were splayed out on the sliver of exposed skin between the hem of your dress and the tops of your stockings.

The shadowsinger was facing straight ahead, but a hint of a smirk graced his beautiful face as you tried not to squirm in your seat.

“Enough about my love life,” Mor says with a wave of her hand. “It's your turn, Cas. Last Winter Solstice, I gave you custom red leather boots, but I have never seen you wear it once. Were you lying when you said you liked them?”

Cassian’s eyes widened. You chuckled as the Illyrian general dramatically picked up his shot glass, tapped it on the wood, and downed the liquid in one gulp.

Mor gasped, slapping the sticky surface of the table. “You told me you loved them!”

The wings upon Cassian’s back twinged slightly. “No comment.”

“With you two? I thought the boots would get some use in the bedroom,” you say, wiggling a brow suggestively between Nesta and Cassian.

Immediate regret shot through you like electricity as Azriel’s hand inched higher up your thigh. He squeezed gently and you nearly knocked your knee into the top of the table. Shadows pulled your ankles to the floor while Azriel's cool demeanor never once faltered.

While Mor and Cassian duked it out, the shadowsinger leaned over conspiratorially. “It’s not so nice to be on the receiving end of the teasing, is it?”

“That's not fair. You're playing dirty and you know it, Az.”

The grin he flashed was nothing short of feral. “Oh you have no idea how dirty I can get, princess.”

Heat flared through your skin in response. What the hell was happening? You swallowed thickly, trying your best to keep up with the line of questions going around the table. In true Cassian fashion, the Illyrian general turned upon his mate with a downright ruthless smile.

“During your last girl’s night at the House, all of you got drunk and decided to skinny dip in the Sidra. Two of the Valkyries backed out, but the others almost got caught by the sentries posted by the river. Which of you had to run buck naked through the night with only burlap sacks covering them?”

Nesta’s gaze met yours. You gave her a small nod, confirming that it was alright for her to reveal your crimes.

“It was me and honey.”

The room erupted into boisterous laughter. Rhysand narrowed his eyes. “That was you two? The sentries woke me up in the middle of the night to ask if they should go after the streakers.”

Nesta only shrugged. “Your turn, honey.” Her unyielding gaze flickers on your face, examining you with careful consideration. Then, a smile bloomed on her lovely face. “Have you ever had a dirty dream about anyone in this room?”

Shit. You were going to kill her. Nesta was well aware of the answer to that question since you had shared a particularly steamy dream you’d had of Azriel that would’ve made Sellyn Drake herself blush. The shadowsinger’s fingers hovered over your skin, noticing the sudden stiffness of your limbs and the shift in your breathing. You twirled your finger around the rim of the shot glass, deciding your fate.

“Yes,” you finally answer.

Nesta smirks. “Care to share who the dream was about?”

“You only get one question, Nes.”

Your friends groaned, but Nesta only chuckled. “Fair enough.” A vexatious glint shimmered in her eyes while she nodded to your right. “Ask Az a question then.”

Azriel smiled as his fingertips traced idle patterns on your skin. The contact made you clench your thighs together, but the pull of his shadows spread your feet apart so his hand could travel further up your leg.

The Illyrian had a wolfish smile on his face as he whispered only low enough for you to hear. “Better make it a good one, princess.”

You examined the male, grin growing wide as the perfect question came to mind. If Azriel wanted to play dirty, so be it. “Have you ever used the chains and whips in the dungeon for anything other than torture?”

The whole room held their breath as the shadowsinger’s gaze met yours. Those hazel eyes of his beckoned you forth like a magnet, never once leaving your face as he picked up his shot glass. Licking his plump lips, he gave you a wink as he tipped the alcohol back.

Cassian chuckled. “I think that was answer enough.”

Azriel shrugged casually, not a hint of emotion breaking through that cool exterior of his. The game continued with another round of questions and the shadowsinger swept his hot touch over your skin once more. The caress held nothing but promise.

“You’ll pay for that later, honey.”

The threat made you dizzy with arousal. You were barely paying attention to the scandalous information being discussed, too busy with the task of discretely ogling Azriel through the rim of your wine glass. Your hot gaze trailed from the soft dark hair curling around his ears, inky strands caressing the sharp angle of his cheekbones. The glow of the faelights bathed his golden brown skin in a soft halo, hugging the elegant slope of his nose and framing his smirking mouth. With the rim of the wine glass caught between them, Azriel's lips appeared so enticing that it was almost criminal.

Gods, he was so fucking beautiful. It almost hurt to look at him directly.

Azriel squeezed you gently. “See something you like?”

“Mhm,” you murmur. “You’re just so pretty, Az.”

You reveled in the blush that swept over his cheeks. “Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re the only pretty thing I see here, princess.”

You grin, batting your lashes. The rest of your group seemed utterly oblivious to the game happening between you and the shadowsinger. He inched his way closer to the edge of your panties as you sucked in a sharp intake of breath. The arousal coating the lace fabric had you soaked right through. The scent of it wafted up to Azriel who only smiled, satisfaction written all over his smug face.

“Now be a good girl and ask me another question.”

An hour and two drinks later, you found yourself perched on the shadowsinger’s lap. The longer the night went on, the touchier you both got. It started with you playfully stretching your legs onto Azriel’s lap, which led to him pulling you by the ankles to bring you closer, and eventually bouncing you on his knee so you could hear each other better.

The rest of your friends had joined the crowd outside, no doubt dancing the night away as you and Azriel stayed behind in the private room. On any other night, you would’ve been out on the dance floor partying it up with Mor and Feyre, but right now, you were perfectly content where you were.

Azriel tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You should wear your hair down more often,” he states in a low and husky voice. “I like it this way.”

His fingertips skirt over your collarbone, toying with the strap of your lace nightgown. The flimsy spaghetti strap slides off your shoulder, revealing the blue lace bra underneath.

“This dress,” he murmurs in appreciation. “I like this dress on you, too.”

You blush, tipping your head back in laughter. “Are you just going to keep naming things you like about me?”

“We’d be here all night.”

“You’re a shameless flirt, Az.”

A shiver snakes its way up your spine as his shadows sweep over you, their cool touch caressing your cheek. “Only for you.”

“You seem different tonight,” he whispers into your ear. “Less guarded. More confident.”

“Maybe I’m tired of everyone thinking of me as the innocent one.”

Azriel chuckles. “The first time I met you, you threatened to stab me with a basilisk tooth. You never had me fooled for a second.”

“You know what I mean, Az. I’m the one that always holds back. The one that overthinks everything. For once, I just want to be the fun one.”

“Hence the stripping on stage?” he teases, twirling your hair between his fingers. You rolled your eyes playfully and he tickled your cheeks with the strands. “You are fun, whether you’re undressing for all of Rita’s to see or curling up with one of those smutty books you like so much back at your flat.”

You tilt your head to the side, biting back a smile. “I don’t know. It might be silly, but sometimes I wish I had the courage to be this version of myself more often.”

Azriel’s fingers traced the curve of your jaw. “You know you can always be yourself around me, right? The good, the bad, the ugly. I like every version of yourself that you allow me to see. Tonight is no different.”

Warmth spread through your cheeks and you pitched forward, covering your face within the dark curtain of your hair. “You’re my best friend, Az. You have to say that.”

The shadowsinger lifts your chin, examining your features with tender eyes. Your heart was pounding inside your chest so frantically that it would take a miracle for Azriel not to hear it.

“Friends don’t think of each other the way I think about you,” he says softly.

The butterflies in your stomach fluttered erratically. “And what exactly do you think about me?”

He pauses, taking you in. “I think that you’re smart and sweet and funny. I think that my day never really feels complete until I talk to you because you’re honestly one of my favorite people.” Your heart fluttered in your chest as a hint of mischief flashed through Azriel’s eyes.

With his voice low and his gaze hot, Azriel adds, “And I think that if I told you the filthy thoughts that crossed my mind while you were dancing on stage, no one would ever see you as innocent again.”

A shiver went down your spine. You’d imagined crossing this line with Azriel so many times, but you were too afraid of ruining your friendship to ever pursue it. The flirting and the touching wasn’t anything new. You and Azriel had a tendency to draw towards each other wherever you were, but besides the occasional suggestive remark or lingering touch, neither one of you acknowledged the sexual tension brewing between you.

More than that, Azriel truly was your best friend. You talked about anything and everything under the sun and you just understood one another. It’s rare to find a connection with someone like that. So, you kept your feelings under lock and key, but now Azriel had unlocked unknown territory.

You couldn’t deny the desire rolling off of you in waves. The thoughts running through your head were ones that you only allowed yourself to think about when you were alone. Usually in your bed or in the bath with your fingers between your legs, but now, the male that consumed your thoughts just admitted that you consumed his too. You weren’t about to let this moment pass you by.

Music pulsed through the room and you could feel the seductive beat thrumming through your veins. You rose to standing, perching yourself between Azriel’s thighs. Guiding his hands over your waist, you shot him a seductive grin.

“What are you doing?” Azriel asked, his voice so low you could barely hear it.

“Showing you what I think about when I think about you.”

The dim faelights flickered as your body swayed to the music, hips rocking side to side as you circled Azriel. The glow of the siphons on his hands reflected off the lights, bathing the entire room in a hazy cobalt fog. With the pulsating beat of the music and the sultry lighting, your body moved of its own accord. The shadowsinger's eyes followed your movements, from the way your fingertips traced the soft curves of your body to the sensual pop of your hips as you dropped it low. You slowly rose, bending over backwards and giving him a full view of your backside.

You continued to gyrate, your body flowing as smoothly as the Sidra. Winding and grinding, Azriel craned his neck to watch as you danced around him. You kneeled, fingers twining with his while you twirled back up to standing. Slowly, you pressed your chest against his and let your lips brush against his cheek while the tops of your breasts grazed his mouth. You tugged at the chain dangling on his neck, watching as his eyes fluttered close while you placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth. He tried to capture your lips in his, but you only chuckled while you turned around and perched yourself on his lap.

Azriel’s tongue darts out from between his lips as the straps of your dress fall over your shoulder. He inhales sharply as you settle between his thighs, grinding against him slowly while your hips rocked in a steady rhythm. The shadowsinger grips your waist in his large hands, fingers disappearing underneath the lacy fabric of your nightgown. Finally, you turn to face him and the ravenous look in his eyes made you shiver with anticipation.

He traced soothing circles against your skin as you settled over his right thigh, your arms hooking behind his head. Deft fingers hike the skirt of your dress up even more until your lace panties pressed against the fabric of his trousers. You rocked your hips over his thigh, moaning as the friction rubbed against your already soaking core.

“Is this what you think about?” Azriel whispers into your ear. “Teasing the absolute hell out of me until I’m so hard that I can’t even think straight?”

“Yes,” you whimper as you buck against him, your arousal coating your lace underwear and his trousers. His fingers lace through your hair, gripping the back of your head with light force. “I fantasize about it all the time. In my bed. In the bath. Anywhere I can.”

“Fuck, that’s hot. Do you get yourself off while thinking of me, princess?”

“Always,” you admit breathlessly. “It’s always you.”

“Do you touch yourself and imagine that its my fingers inside of you?” He groaned, kneading your ass with his hand. “Do you fuck yourself and call out my name?”

You nod, the hazy fog of lust clouding your thoughts. “I do.”

“Then show me, princess.”

Azriel guides your hand towards your lace panties. He yanks them off you, tearing the delicate fabric and exposing your bare cunt to the cold air. The ruined lace rolls off your ankles and he discards them to the floor without a second glance. He lifts you gingerly, sliding out of his own pants so he could feel your arousal against his leg.

“What would our friends think if they could see us now?” The dark chuckle that followed told you exactly how little he cared if anyone were to walk through the door. The risk of getting caught made this that much more enticing.

“I don’t care,” you answer. “Do you?”

Azriel guided your hips over his leg once more and the skin on skin contact nearly made your eyes roll to the back of your head. “My little exhibitionist,” he says with a smirk. “Tell me what you want.”

You bit your lip, thinking. “I want to ride your thigh.”

He chuckles darkly. “Not so innocent now, are we? Is that really what you want? To ride my thigh until you’re nothing but a needy, whining mess in my lap?”

“Yes, Az. Please,” you plead, pouting your lips.

“Come get yourself off on my thigh then, princess.”

That was all the encouragement you needed before you needily grinded against him. Azriel’s warm mouth connected to your neck, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses along your skin. His lips skirted over the hollow of your throat, nipping and sucking all the way down to your collarbone. He pulled down the straps of your dress, letting it drape down your torso as he admired the lacy blue bra hiding underneath.

Azriel inhaled sharply at the sight of your cleavage. He continued kissing your chest while dexterously making quick work of the hook of your bra. Releasing your breasts from their constraints, he cupped your soft flesh before taking a nipple into his mouth. Your back arched as his tongue swirled around your peak and you continued riding his warm thigh, the slick sound of your arousal rubbing against him filling the room.

The sensation on your clit is heavenly and you could feel yourself closer and closer to reaching your reprieve as he hums against your skin. A slick sound interrupted your thoughts and you looked down to find Azriel pumping himself while he watched you get yourself off on his lap. The sight of his hard cock in his hand made your mouth water.

“Touch yourself for me, princess.”

You whimpered, sliding a finger over your clit and rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves while Azriel continued to rub himself underneath you. Two fingers slide into your pussy, coating them with your juices while you and Azriel watch each other masturbate. You bucked against your own hand, imagining that it was his cock underneath you and releasing a loud moan.

“That’s it, princess. Keep fucking yourself against me until you cum.”

The buck of your hips turns erratic as Azriel continues to watch you shamelessly get off on his thigh. Your toes curled, body tensing as waves of pleasure washed over you. The friction made your head swim with incoherent thoughts.

"Azriel," you gasp, moaning his name into the crook of his neck while you worked yourself towards release.

A light tug at the back of your head placed you face to face with the shadowsinger. His hazel eyes glowed with desire, drinking in the sight of you pleading his name like a prayer.

"Say it again."

With your mouth slightly open, panting as the pressure built behind your needy core, you whimpered. "Azriel."

His free hand drifted up to your nipple, rubbing and teasing as you bucked against his touch. Azriel licked the hollow of your throat, nipping at your soft skin and sucking at your flesh so hard that it was sure to bruise. You could only imagine the trail of love bites littered all over your neck.

Azriel grinned into your skin. "Don't cover my marks. After we walk out of here, I want everyone to know who did this to you. Who made you whimper and moan and beg. You're mine, princess. Do you understand?"

You whimpered against his neck. Shadows coiled at the base of your throat, turning your chin to place you face to face once again. The intensity of his hazel gaze burned into your skin like a brand.

"When I ask you a question, I expect an answer." Azriel withdrew his touch from your nipple and you whined at the loss of warmth.

"I'm yours, Azriel," you answer in a breathy pant. "I always have been."

The growl that emitted from the back of his throat was nothing like you’ve ever heard before. Azriel’s free hand tangled through the back of your head as he forcefully pressed his mouth against yours. Your lips melded together, making your head swim with lust as his tongue slipped inside your mouth. The kiss brings you over the edge and a whining pant escapes from the back of your throat as Azriel swears.

“Let go, princess. I’ve got you.”

Azriel kisses you, deep and slow, while you give yourself over to your orgasm. The tension in your abdomen uncoiled and you came all over his muscled thigh. With a growl, Azriel releases his cock from his right hand and plunges his own fingers inside of you. The peak of your release intensified as he curved his middle and pointer finger inside your walls, eliciting wave after wave of pleasure to rack through your body. You whine as he withdraws seconds later, your juices coating his digits. Arousal glistened on his scarred fingers and he brought them to his mouth, licking up every last drop of you.

“You taste like fucking heaven, honey. Better than what I could’ve imagined.” He brought his fingers to your lips. “See for yourself.”

You took his digits into your parted mouth, swirling your tongue and tasting yourself on him. His eyes were nearly black as you sucked on his fingers, releasing them with a loud pop as he pulled them out of your mouth.

“Such a good girl for me.”

“I want to taste you, Az.”

The curses that flew out of his beautiful mouth would’ve made a sailor blush. You smirked, giving him a quick peck before sliding down onto your knees. Above you, Azriel watched with lust blown eyes while you grip his cock in your dainty hands. Lifting his shirt, you greedily licked a trail up his abs while he shuddered at the sensation of your warm mouth.

His wings flared behind him as a moan ripped through his chest. Pure, unadulterated pleasure rocked through his body while his eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head. “Keep teasing like that, princess and you’ll have me on my knees by the end of the night.”

Satisfied with that response, you pumped him in your hand and grinned. You spit in your right hand, rubbing up and down his length with determination. Flicking your hair over your shoulder, you licked his long, hard member from base to tip, catching his precum in your mouth while Azriel gathered your hair in his hands.

Glancing up at him through your lashes, you squeezed him in your hand, slowly pumping his member as you began to take him into your mouth. Tears pricked the back of your eyes while his cock hit the back of your throat. Azriel was bigger than anyone you’ve ever taken. You gagged on the sheer size of his member, your spit trailing down his lap while you fucked him with your mouth.

“That’s it, honey,” he said gruffly. “You can take it.”

Azriel guided the back of your head, helping you bob up and down his length while he moaned your name. He yanked on your hair while you gagged, the sloppy sounds of you choking on his cock filling the room. The filthy swears coming out of his mouth only served to turn you on even more.

“Does my pretty little princess like to choke on my cock?” He shudders, bucking his hips into your mouth. “You’re just begging to have your throat fucked, aren’t you?”

You whined, inhaling through your nose while tears streamed down your cheeks. Saliva dribbled down your chin and you were pretty sure that you’d been reduced to nothing but a slobbery mess, but you were determined to get Azriel off with your mouth.

“Fuck,” Azriel swears, rolling his head back as he spoke. “How are you so good at that? Taking me in so deep like a good girl.”

You hummed while sucking your cheeks in, letting his length hit the back of your throat over and over again. The shadowsinger shuddered, wings fluttering behind him as he came closer and closer to his release.

“I want to make you cum, Az.”

“Not yet, princess. I want to feel how wet you are for me first. I could smell your arousal all night and I want to fucking bury myself in it.”

He released his hold on your hair, picking you up from your kneeling position. Your legs wobbled underneath you, but Azriel steadied you and placed your hands on the wooden table directly in front of you. He swept away the remnants of food and drinks littering its surface onto the floor and hovered over you. Shadows swirled through your ankles, spreading your legs apart with force as Azriel cups your ass.

“Be a good girl and bend over.”

A shock of electricity jolted through you as you leaned over the table, face down and ass up. His fingers traced the thigh high stockings covering your lower half, cupping your ass in appreciation. A loud smack echoed through your ears as Azriel brought his hand down on your right cheek. The action stung and it would no doubt leave a handprint on your ass until the next morning, but your head was reeling with too much pleasure to care. Steadying himself on the table, Azriel lined the tip of his cock on your wet cunt and teased along your slit.

Your pussy throbbed with desire, needy and desperate to feel Azriel buried deep inside you. A whine escaped your lips as you greedily rocked against him. The shadowsinger smacked your ass again, gripping your waist in place.

“I wouldn’t do that again unless you want to get punished. I decide when to put my cock inside you. Do you understand, princess?”

You nod, goosebumps prickling over your skin. “Yes, daddy.”

Azriel chuckles darkly. “Absolutely fucking filthy. My spoiled rotten little princess.” He braced himself behind you. “Now try and be quiet so the rest of the people here won’t know that daddy's about to fuck you into oblivion.”

“I’ll be good.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Azriel eased himself into you, swearing under his breath when he slid into your wet pussy. You were dripping for him and it made it that much easier for him to slip all the way in. He moved slowly, thrusting into you at a steady tempo until he hit that sweet spot within you that made you cry out in pleasure. Encouraged by your reaction, the shadowsinger rutted into you relentlessly and you tried to desperately swallow the moans rising within you. A small whimper slipped out and Azriel leaned over you, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

“What did I say about being quiet?” he hissed into your ear, suddenly pulling out of you. The absence of his warmth inside you made you whine in desperation.

“Please, I swear I’ll be quiet. You just feel so fucking good.”

“Look at you begging for me. You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Azriel’s hand trails up your torso, squeezing your breast on the way up before wrapping his fingers around your throat. “I suppose I’ll just have to find another way to keep you quiet.”

Shadows clamp down over your mouth while Azriel pounds into you again, squeezing gently on your neck. The lack of oxygen combined with his aggressive thrusts had you reeling with pleasure. Until now, you’d never really understood the appeal of choking, but with his hand wrapped around your neck and his cock buried deep inside you, Azriel was convincing you otherwise.

With your face pressed against the table, Azriel gathers your hair into his fist and leans over so that his chest is touching your bare skin. The cold sensation of his necklace hit the small of your back while he savagely pounded into you again and again.

“My honey’s just so pretty when I’m fucking her senseless.” He presses a kiss on your shoulder, teeth sinking into your skin as he railed you from behind. “Feels so fucking good. Like your pretty little cunt was made just for me.”

The vice grip of your walls pulsed around his member while he hit all the right spots. Your legs were shaking as skin slapped against skin, the tempo of his thrusts matching the pulsating beat of the music blaring through the pleasure hall. If any of your friends walked through that door, they’d see the tears forming in your eyes as you begged Azriel for more. The thrill of getting caught in the act made you moan into the shadowsinger’s hand.

He eased on his grip, leaning over to hear what you had to say. “Fuck me, daddy. Fuck me until I cum all over your cock. Please.”

Azriel chuckled. “Since you asked so nicely, princess. I’ll let you cum first.”

His hands traveled south, settling on your clit while he rubbed circular motions over the sensitive spot. The shadowsinger rutted even more aggressively into you and the sweet nothings he whispered into your hair had you gushing all over him. Turning your head towards him, he kissed you deeply and swallowed your moans into his own mouth.

“That’s it, honey. Just ride it out. Wanna feel you cum while I’m deep inside you.”

The second orgasm rocked you harder than the first. Your walls clenched around Azriel, coating his member with your arousal while it dripped out of you.

“Such a good girl. You want daddy to fill you up, princess?”

You nod, biting your lip. Azriel’s veiny, tattooed arms came down on either side of you as he released a shaky breath. “Cum inside me, Azriel. I can take it.”

It was all the encouragement Azriel needed to hear before spurting his seed inside of you, his teeth sinking into your shoulder to mask his moans of pleasure. The shadowsinger sighed in contentment, turning you over for a kiss. His forehead dipped down to yours, a shy smile spreading across his face.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice laced with concern. It sounded so different from the confident, authoritative male from a few moments ago.

You smiled, nodding your head. “Never better.”

Azriel scanned the room and took in the mess you both made, the food and bottles littering the floor, the ruined underwear hanging over the booth, and finally, your disheveled sex hair. The two of you looked at each other and the gravity of what you’d just done hung in the air. A line had been crossed and you could never uncross it.

Slowly, the shadowsinger breaks out into a grin. The gesture was contagious and you found yourself mirroring the act until the two of you were both bursting with laughter.

“This isn’t what I had envisioned when I finally told you how I felt.” Azriel finally says.

“Oh yeah?” you ask teasingly. “What did you have in mind?”

The shadowsinger chuckles, pulling the straps of your nightgown back over your shoulders. He gathered his pants and pulled them on quickly. Retrieving a small cloth from his pocket, he wiped up the remnants of his orgasm on your leg and set you down on a clean surface of the table. Azriel raked through your hair, wiping away the beads of sweat on your temple and setting a comforting hand over your shaking legs. He kneeled, slipping your heels back on and ensuring that they were properly strapped around your ankles. You couldn't even recall when you'd taken them off.

The gentle manner he took in your aftercare made you smile gently as he kissed your cheek.

“Well, I was thinking that I’d take you out for dinner. Pick you up from your flat and fly into the city. I even planned on buying you a bouquet of irises. Your favorite.”

You beamed as Azriel smoothed down your hair. “Did you think you’d get lucky after our first date?”

“I’d feel lucky just being with you.” Your heart squeezed in your chest. He winked, a mischievous smile spreading across his beautiful face. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope that you’d invite me up to your flat at the end of the night.”

He tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “I would have waited for you, though. However long it took.”

“Haven’t you heard, Az? Waiting is highly overrated. If I learned anything tonight, it’s that you should just go after what you want. You never know how it might turn out.”

Azriel grinned. “How did it turn out? Hypothetically speaking?”

“Hypothetically speaking, I wish I had taken the leap out of the friend zone sooner. Hypothetically speaking, I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life,” you pause, biting your lip as you consider your next words. “Hypothetically speaking, I should have told my best friend that I was crazy about him ages ago.”

Azriel was smiling so widely that it tugged at your heartstrings. “Factually speaking, your best friend is crazy about you, too.”

He gathered you into his arms, lifting you off your feet as he kissed you gently. You savored the taste of him, the remnants of you on his tongue mixed with the wine from earlier was enough to make your head spin. Azriel pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours.

“What do you say, honey? Will you go on a date with me?”

“I’d really like that, Az.”

The shy smiles on both of your faces made you giddy with excitement. You couldn’t wait to explore this new territory with Azriel. He kissed you softly, feeling him grin against your lips. The two of you were so caught up in one another that neither one heard the door swing open.

A drunk Cassian stumbled in, his eyes glazed over as he leaned against the ajar door. “Where have you two been all night? It’s a party out there.”

Azriel shrugged, casually retrieving your ruined lingerie from the corner of the booth and slipping it into his pocket. “We’ve just been talking. Did we miss anything fun, brother?”

Cassian nods, gearing up to tell you all about the antic he most likely caused outside, but then the Illyrian general paused. His eyes narrowed at the both of you, sniffing the air.

“What the hell happened in this room? It reeks of sex in here.”

Azriel stared at his brother for a split second. Then, he leans over to you dramatically, “Honey?”

“Yes, Az?”

“What do you think about going on that date right now?”

A grin spread across your face. “I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all night.”

With that, Azriel takes your hand in his and faces Cassian again. “Sorry Cas, no time to talk. I have a date to go on.”

If it was possible for someone’s mouth to fall to the floor, Cassian’s would’ve currently been sitting on the sticky linoleum under your feet.

“I can’t believe you seduced our sweet, innocent honey, brother,” Cassian says, half-surprised and half appalled.

You patted your friend on the arm. “Actually Cas, the lap dance was my idea, but it kind of just spiraled from there.”

The surprised choking sound coming out of Cassian was the only thing you heard before Azriel led you through the door. You both looked back at the male, who was currently gaping at the wall as though he’d just received realm shattering news.

Azriel only chuckled, kissing your cheek. “Looks like you do have some sting to you, honeybee.”

tag list: @despoinasstuff @lahoete @mulansaucey @moony-thoughts @fangirlworld46-blog @percyjacksonspeen

#this...kind of got out of hand #alexa play freaky girl by nicki minaj cause azriel is a capital F R E A K #acotar #azriel #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acomaf #acosf #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel smut #acotar smut #masterlist #jess writes

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bisexual-cryptid · 1 year

Text

it all starts because he didn’t get a chance to have his morning coffee. it shouldn’t be such a big deal, it’s such a tiny little detail, but it’s enough to throw steve off for te rest of the day.

he’s a mess all day, stumbling through his interactions with customers, misplacing video tapes left and right, and to make matters worse, robin had called out sick. overall he is just very overwhelmed by the time he leaves work and makes his way over to eddie’s.

he feels his shoulders sag once he parks outside the trailer, wanting nothing more than to curl up in his boyfriends arms and pass out after a horribly stressful day. he walks up to the front door and brings the keys up to the lock, opening it with ease. as soon as the door is open and he is pulling the keys out of the lock he stumbles and accidentally drops the keys.

for some reason this is his last straw. his day has been so stressful and he’s so overwhelmed he can’t help but burst into tears. eddie rushes over to him, quickly pulling him into his arms. steve hugs him back, clinging to the back of his shirt so hard his knuckles turn white.

the two of them stay like that for a couple minutes before eddie starts slowly coaxing steve over to the couch. the two of them stay intertwined as they sit back on the couch, steve still crying softly into eddie’s chest. it takes a while but eventually steve’s breathing evens out enough for eddie to feel comfortable asking him a question.

“can you tell me what happened, baby?” eddie asks gently, combing his fingers through steve’s hair in a way he knows helps to calm the other man.

“i- i- i’m- do- f- fu- fuck!”steve stutters out, tripping over the syllables of his words. he only gets a stutter when he’s really overwhelmed and it’s never come out in front of eddie before. to say steve is mortified is an understatement. he can feel frustrated tears welling in his eyes once again and he angrily wipes at his face, trying to keep them at bay.

“hey, hey, don’t do that love, you’ll hurt yourself,” eddie gently chastises, lightly grabbing steve’s hands and pulling them away from his face.

“i ca- i c- ca-can’t-“ steve tries, getting more and more frustrated as the words seem to get stuck in his throat.

“shhh, don’t try to talk baby, it’s just making you more upset,” eddie says, pulling steve back into his arms.

“how about this, i’ll ask you a yes or no question and you can tap my arm once for yes and twice for no, how does that sound?” eddie asks. after a moment of contemplation, steve taps eddie’s arm a single time in confirmation.

“good job stevie, i’m so proud of you. let’s see, do you need something to eat?” two taps

“okay, do you want to shower?” two taps again

“do you want to go to bed?” one tap

“okay sweetheart, let’s get you to bed.”

eddie helps steve stand up, holding his hand the entire time the two walk the short distance to eddie’s room. he only lets go when he sits steve down on the bed so he can grab him some clothes to sleep in.

eddie grabs a pair of shorts steve had left at his place a week or so back, and his softly worn metallica hoodie that steve always likes to steal.

he walks back over to steve helping him strip out of his work clothes and into his pajamas. as soon as the two of them are dressed comfortably, eddie helps steve lay back on the bed before getting in beside him and pulling him back into his warm embrace.

“th- than- thank you,” steve gets out with a little less difficulty than earlier, as he rests his head on eddie’s chest, where he can hear his heart beating softly.

“of course my love, now try and get some sleep,” eddie says, pressing a soft kiss to the top of steve’s head. steve closes his eyes, drifting off into a peaceful sleep with thoughts of how much he loves his boyfriend dancing in his head.

#stranger things #st4 #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #steveddie #headcanon #ficlet #drabble #steve harrington has a stutter

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imaginesandbandfiction · 4 months

Text

Triad Part 5 — Your First Time Together

A Cazriel x Reader Headcanon

Series Masterlist

A/N: We are getting smutty for the next two parts of this series bc we all know what the mating bond is all about haha.

Warnings: This is pure smut lmaoooo

You decide to have your first time together before accepting the mating bond, wanting it to be special and not lost in the frenzy.

Quite honestly, it’s not the situation that any of you thought you’d end up in. A Triad Bond—those are practically unheard of these days. After sharing a bottle of wine (making sure everyone pours their own glass), just sitting in front of the fire and chatting, your anxiety has calmed down, although that might have more to do with the two males sat on either side of you than the alcohol. You’re cuddled up against Az’s chest with Cassian’s arm draped over the back of the couch and curled around the both of you. The two of them are more comfortable with you as a buffer, and you’re more than happy to give them all the time they need to get used to the idea that this bond is an equilateral triangle, not the letter V.

You squirm in Azriel’s grip until you’re face to face with Cas. His eyebrows are furrowed and he’s got his bottom lip pulled behind his teeth.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, leaning in to coax his lip free with a kiss. It’s soft and sweet, and you focus on sending a wave of love through the bond. Azriel echoes your sentiment, his shadows swirling around the three of you like they’re trying to weave you together. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, okay?” You pull back and wait until he nods.

Azriel’s grip loosens around your waist.

“I can go if you need me to,” he offers, thinking it might be easier for Cassian if things started off in familiar territory.

“No, stay. Please,” Cas whispers. He reaches over and grabs Az’s hand to keep him anchored.

Az settles, closer this time, and brushes a stray hair off Cas’s forehead. The two of you sit there, holding him as close as possible and basking in the soft golden glow of the mating bond.

It takes Cassian a few minutes, but eventually he speaks up.

“I… I want to, it’s just, um,” he pauses to clear his throat. Az squeezes his hand.

“We know,” he says. You can feel Cas’s nerves fighting against the bond, but they’re losing. Curiosity slowly seeps into place instead and he leans in to capture your lips in a slow, sensual kiss that sends heat straight to your core.

All too soon, though, he pulls away and turns his head, bumping noses with Azriel.

“You sure?” Az asks.

“Kiss me, Az,” Cas’s voice is breathy. The words are soft, but the intentions behind them are solid.

Things progress naturally from there. Azriel turns fully so his back is resting against the arm of the sofa and he pulls you in between his legs. Cassian kneels between your legs and captures your lips again while Az scatters featherlight kisses across your shoulder blades. They feel like his shadows.

You slip your hands underneath Cas’s sweater and push it up, letting your fingertips flutter against his muscles, until he breaks away for long enough to pull the blasted thing off and give you full access.

Clothes peel off slowly, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left separating you. Then there are mouths and hands—so many hands!—and you’re squirming in between them, desperate for every bit of friction.

“Bed?” Az asks, when he’s got you writhing on top of him, two fingers pushing inside of you while you pump Cassian’s cock, stroking up his thick length.

You nod into his neck, and when Cas mutters a nearly-incoherent yes, Az winnows the three of you to your bedroom. He throws the you and Cas onto the bed and then tugs Cassian down to the end of the bed until his hips are flush with the edge, and then he slides his hands underneath Cas’s thighs, lifting them up and stripping him bare. Cas curls his toes around the footboard, squirming as cool air surrounds him where it never has before. Mixed with the slickness Az had spread there earlier, it has him gasping for breath.

You help him get situated, propping up his back and neck with pillows, and then drop a kiss to his forehead. His eyes flutter shut and he reaches behind his head to wrap his arm around your waist.

“C’mere, Angel,” he mumbles, pulling you closer. You look up and make eye contact with Az, whose eyes darkened with lust at the sight of his mates getting ready for him. He nods and holds out a hand to help you climb on top of Cas to lower yourself down on his cock.

A barely-audible Fuck tickles your ears as your thighs settle around his. It takes you a few minutes to adjust; Azriel steps forward and wraps an arm around you from behind, rubbing soothing circles beneath your belly button where Cas’s tip strains against your stomach.

When you start moving, slow at first, the tension drains from Cassian’s body. His big hands squeeze your waist, helping you lift yourself up.

Az presses in even closer. You feel the tip of his cock between your cheeks, not quite touching Cassian yet.

“Still okay?” He asks. It’s not so much a word but a feeling that crosses from Cas’s mind into yours and Azriel’s—wet, hot desperation pulsates through the threads connecting the three of you.

You lean down to pull Cassian’s tongue into your mouth as Az slides into place. Cas stills when Az bottoms out, muscles tightening again.

Az reaches around you to lace his fingers with Cas’s and squeezes. The bond hums, raining shimmering gold behind your eyelids. You slide your lips against Cas’s in lazy, languid movements that help keep him calm as he adjusts.

The three of you stay there for what feels like a lifetime, totally still, soaking in the feeling of complete and utter peace that surrounds you.

You never knew you were missing a part of you until, suddenly, it’s there. And then, like an exhale, you fall together, limbs twisting up into one giant knot. Azriel’s chest presses against your back and you turn to bury your face in the crook of Cas’s neck, making room for Az to lean down and suck Cas’s bottom lip on between his teeth as he starts to pump on and out of Cas.

Your hips grind down wanting Cassian deeper, claiming you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby,” Az growls, picking up the pace of his thrusts.

The pet name has both you and Cas squirming, desperate for more. Pleasure builds quickly just like the sweat between your bodies.

You feel Az’s movements start to quicken even more, his arousal pulsing through the bond. Cassian’s fully incoherent, babbling and moaning, overwhelmed by the feeling of his two mates claiming him.

Azriel reaches around and starts circling your clit with two long fingers. You arch against him and tighten around Cas as Az leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Come for me, honey.”

It hits you instantly and you’re gushing on Cassian’s cock, grinding your hips down to milk every last second of pleasure. Az dips two fingers down to collect your slick and then shoves them in Cas’s mouth.

A strangled groan gets caught in Cas’s throat as he sucks on Az’s fingers. His hips buck up into yours, pounding harder and harder until he can’t possibly hold off any longer and spills himself inside of you.

Cas’s head drops back and you fall onto his chest, seeking out skin to skin contact. Az’s orgasm comes in a minute later; he stills behind you and then snaps his hips back a few times to ride it out.

When he’s done, he collapses on the bed next to you and drops his head onto Cas’s chest. The two of you lay there, curled into each other, with Cas’s strong arms cradling you to keep you in place. You can feel faint waves of pleasure coursing through the bond as you bask in the bright, shiny afterglow.

“Mother above,” he mutters. “What do you think it’ll feel like after we accept the bond?”

You lift your head and make eye contact with Az, knowing that the dark temptress of lust clouding his irises is mirrored in your own eyes.

His hand shoots out to stop you when you try to move.

“We can’t,” he says, choking on the words like it physically hurts to say them. “I have a feeling we’re going to need a good night’s sleep first.” With a groan, you let your head thump back onto Cas’s chest. He’s right, but you don’t have to be happy about it.

Az untangles himself from the embrace and tugs you off of Cassian, ignoring your cries of protest. You collapse on the bed in the divot where Az’s body had just been. “I know, I know, but we need to get you cleaned up.”

He squeezes your hand and then disappears into the bathroom. When he returns, he’s got a mug of water and a damp cloth. First, he hands you the mug and you take a few sips. Then you hold the mug to Cas’s lips and coax him into drinking with sweet murmurs.

Az’s touch is gentle, softer than his shadows, when he swipes the cloth through your folds.

You squirm, overstimulated but not complaining, and Az chuckles.

“So fucking needy,” he tuts, using his free hand to push the stray hairs off your forehead. “I can’t wait to see what you’re like during the frenzy.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead then moves over to Cassian. The general closes his eyes and tips his head back as beautiful red roses bloom on his cheeks. Az is just as soft with a Cas, and a quiet sigh slips out of his lips.

The strangled groan that escapes Az is primal and he has to turn away from you to cool the burning in his veins.

“You two are going to be the death of me, I swear.”

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urne-buriall · 29 days

Text

so you've told me now you like sotw alternate realities. well here's the river scene were Dean opens up to Cas about John's abuse way ahead of schedule, mere days after the 4th of july:

“There are things I want to tell you,” said Cas, “and questions I want to ask. But I’m never sure if I can.”

“What do you mean?” asked Dean.

“Sometimes I want to tell you about my family because I think you understand,” said Cas. “Other times… I’m just not sure.”

“You could tell me if you wanted,” said Dean. He wished Cas would say. He wanted so badly for Cas to trust him. “It wouldn’t change anything. You’d still be my friend, no matter what you said.”

Cas slowly nodded his head. “Right,” he said. He turned again. Started walking. “I don’t want to burden you. And like I said, talking isn’t my strength.”

There had been a test and Dean failed it. He was sure of it. He just didn’t know what he’d done wrong. Had he come on too strong? Had he seemed insincere?

Maybe he was supposed to offer something first. Maybe he needed to be the one to break open that levee, the one that would never close again. To find out if they shared anything, perhaps it was on Dean to say, my dad beats the shit out of me and has since I can remember.

“Cas, wait,” said Dean. He caught up with Cas, then continued walking. He didn’t quite look over his shoulder as he said, “I’ll tell you.”

At the river. He needed to be still, not in this in-between space on the path.

And as he walked, feeling Cas trail slowly after him, studying Dean, he wondered what he was about to do. How would he say it? Could he really confess this? Could he trust Cas with it?

He went to a rise above the river, where grass and clover turned into a straight-edged bank a few feet above the water. He took off his boots and set them aside, bare feet coming to rest in the cool green clover.

Cas came beside him and cautiously did the same. Dean wrapped his arms around his knees, unable to look at Cas next to him. Nearly shoulder-to-shoulder.

They’d sat like this the day of the rainstorm, talking idly before the downpour. That night, Cas stayed over and wore Dean’s clothes. Had stripped to nearly nothing on the covered porch, skin gold in the light and shining with rain.

Dean buried his face in the crook of his arm and tried to forget that.

“Dean?” said Cas, patience giving way to desperate curiosity.

Cas would say he seemed upset again. And if Dean took an outside look at himself, it was laughable to try and deny. He lifted his head.

He’d promised to tell Cas. It was the only way to find out more about Cas in return, and it was something Dean wanted badly enough that it brought him here. He was going to risk everything. For Cas.

“It’s my dad,” he said, surprised by the weakness of his own voice. Shaky, hoarse.

Cas looked Dean over carefully as he waited for more. He gave a faint nod.

“He’s… Tough.” That could be taken so many ways and Dean knew it. “On me,” he added, like it clarified anything. “Sometimes.”

Cas didn’t shift his posture, but the lines of his face became more deliberately contained. He took a moment to say, clear and even, “Does he hurt you?”

Dean looked sharply to the water. Only because his eyes began to burn, because he was losing his grip on the control he thought he had. He wasn’t supposed to cry over this. He was supposed to bear it. He was just going to state a fact, a fact he had lived with for so long and was strong enough to deal with. And it would have been different if Cas asked ‘does he hit you?’ but instead he’d said hurt, and that was a different question, wasn’t it? It was supposed to be easy to say hit, yes and move on without the impact of that action. But hurt made it so much more lasting.

He winced, trying to find another way around the answer, but then he nodded, a concession timed with the tears that came bitter and fast. He quickly bowed his head into his arms, not enough to hide the catching sound his breath made as he tried not to choke on this feeling.

He wasn’t supposed to be so upset. He wasn’t supposed to be this reactive. He wasn’t dead, it was nothing worth crying over.

Cas’ arm wrapped around his shoulder, a solid warmth that gave shape to Dean, keeping him from coming apart.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said, voice deep and low.

Dean tried to push down his feelings, raising his face even if it was tear-streaked and flushed. “About what?” he asked. Cas had nothing to be sorry for.

“That you’ve had to go through it,” said Cas.

Dean had never imagined anyone saying that to him. He thought he deserved to be called weak for putting up with it, or for crying about it now. He thought nobody would care if it happened to him or not. That anywhere he might’ve grown up he’d have been treated just the same because of the way he was. Never enough. All the things John implied and made him believe.

“You should leave,” said Cas.

“Is that what you did?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t,” said Dean. “Sam—”

“Does he hurt Sam, too?”

Dean shook his head. He felt oddly defensive. Of course John didn’t hurt Sam. Dean would never allow it. “I keep Sam out of it,” he said.

“You still shouldn’t stay.”

“It’s not that bad,” said Dean, like he hadn’t been trembling with the force of his tears just moments ago. His voice came thin. “Not enough to leave.”

“Any amount is enough to be worth leaving,” Cas said, so certain of himself.

Dean retreated back into denial. “It’s more complicated than that,” he said. “I’m— I’m not a kid anymore so…”

Cas’ arm fell away from Dean so that he could look at him better. Which was more dangerous and less comforting than his touch had been. “When was the last time it happened?”

Dean rubbed the edge of his hand against his wet cheek, not wanting to answer but unable to resist a direct question from Cas. He looked down at the river and cleared his throat. “Day before yesterday,” he said. If Cas were to roll his eyes, it wouldn’t be undeserved, but Cas stayed perfectly still. Dean’s fingertips brushed against his throat, wanting to say what happened, but unable to describe that part. “He was mad I brought Sam home. Against orders.”

He dropped his hand again, but Cas’ eyes stayed on his throat. Where a fading bruise could be taken for a smear of motor oil. Cas sharply inhaled, putting pieces together. His eyes scanned the rest of Dean’s body, pausing on his shoulder.

“Your broken arm,” said Cas.

“Yeah, uh,” said Dean. Thinking he’d find something better. “Yeah.” There wasn’t really a way to allay it. “He caught me— We were arguing. About eventing, and Zepp, and I thought if I could just get away from him. And he caught me on the steps and I— I fell down.”

“He’ll kill you,” Cas said.

Dean’s head jerked upward, facing Cas directly. “No,” he said. “He doesn’t want to do that.”

“So he’s in control when he hurts you,” said Cas.

“No!” said Dean quickly. Because that couldn’t be true. His father loved him or could. “When he’s mad he just— It flares up and then it’s over. And he’s sorry about it.”

“So he’s out of control,” said Cas. “Which means you’re in danger. Every time.”

Dean parted his lips to answer but Cas had him in a bind. Either John’s anger was out of control and a constant threat or it was in control and was used with full intention. Neither was good for Dean.

“I don’t want to leave,” said Dean, and that was more true than any of the apologies he’d tried to make on John’s behalf. He looked down between them. “I just want it to stop.”

Cas took a breath, almost started to say something, then didn’t. There was a kind of understanding in that holding back.

“What was it like for you?” Dean asked. It was the only reason he’d said anything. So that Cas would open up to him in turn. Cas thought there were things they had in common that Dean would understand.

“Different, probably,” said Cas. He went quiet, struggling with what to say, his eyes gazing nowhere as he grouped his thoughts. It was far easier to talk about Dean’s troubles than his own. “My mother was… unstable. Religious. Which made her hard to live with at the best of times. Never knowing which mother you were going to get.”

Dean could understand that. John was volatile too. It was a lot of work just planning for what version of John he’d meet in any given scenario.

“Would she hurt you?” he asked. He used the same word on purpose.

Cas didn’t cry, but he looked distant. “Yes,” he said. “She’d… She had punishments. She’d drag me by the ear to lock me in a cupboard for— for hours, when I’d done wrong.” Dean knew without Cas having to say that ‘doing wrong’ could be anything from causing trouble to colouring too loudly. He couldn’t imagine Cas being a trouble-making kid, not on purpose. But he mentioned being different when he grew up. Too emotional, finding it difficult to connect. That would be ‘wrong’ too.

“If we didn’t listen or were found impertinent, she would slap us,” said Cas.

“We?” said Dean.

“My siblings and I,” said Cas.

“I never knew you had siblings,” said Dean.

“Four of them,” said Cas. “They never left. I think. If they had, I hope they’d find me.” He shifted, picking at clover. “Then again, they had less trouble listening or understanding the right answer. I could never seem to figure it out. I was… different. And because I was a… a target, I think they didn’t always know that they had more in common with me than her.”

“And that’s why you left?”

Cas looked away and it told Dean how much more complicated it was than that.

“You said once…” Dean wet his lips before he spoke. “You said you didn’t feel like you had a choice.”

“I didn’t,” said Cas. “It was either live the way they wanted me to live, or leave. And I chose to leave.”

That made Cas probably the strongest person Dean knew. And just as Cas found it simpler to talk about Dean’s troubles, Dean found it easier to think of all Cas deserved.

“Remember what else you said?” Dean asked, the idea lighting up his mind as a fix for Cas’ incredible loneliness. “That you’d want a place with fresh air and animals where everything’s right. What if that was us? You know, like, around here so I didn’t really have to leave, but not with my dad, and—”

Cas was looking at him strangely. Dean’s excitement must have been somehow out of place, or the idea unappealing when Dean included himself. Cas hadn’t been making an offer of somewhere to stay, for Dean, when he warned him that John was a danger. This must not be what he was thinking of it all.

“Sorry,” said Dean quickly. His face flushed again, not helped by the heavy heat of the day. “I thought— When you said that, it sounded— It sounded so nice. But you want that on your own.”

“No, not on my own,” said Cas. “That defeats the point.”

“Right,” said Dean, and he placed his hands on the ground beside him, about to launch himself away from his foolish entry into the conversation. He needed to get away from Cas. He was hot. He should swim. If he could bear to get undressed.

Cas curled a hand around the inside of Dean’s arm just above the crease of his elbow. It wasn’t an iron grip, but it was solid, keeping him in place when he otherwise would’ve gone.

“I like spending my time with you,” Cas said in a rush. It was like he was answering something else, something neither of them had said. He didn’t look at Dean. “If I could give you somewhere to stay, away from your father— If you wanted that, I would do it.”

“We’re just—” Dean hesitated. “We’re just talking dreams, Cas,” he said.

“Why should it only be a dream?” said Cas.

This was more than Dean had ever reckoned on. So heavy it felt like lifting a weight from the bottom of a river.

“I mean that if you want to leave,” said Cas, “then you should. You could do it.” He let go of Dean’s arm, fingertips dragging away from his skin.

“It’s not as simple as that,” said Dean, finding himself confused. In one breath he suggested buying a farm with Cas, and in the next that he could never leave his father. It was just that what they talked about sounded too perfect to ever truly exist. How could Dean put any faith in something that exceeded his wildest dreams like that?

“If I bought a house with space for horses,” said Cas.

“Jeez, Cas,” said Dean.

“Would you come stay?”

“Are you for real?”

“If I could do it this minute, I would,” said Cas. “I don’t want to say goodbye and know you’ll go back to that house with John.”

“Could you do it?” said Dean. “Is that even possible?”

“I could figure it out,” said Cas. “One word. From you, and…”

“You think we can do this?” said Dean. “Then… Okay.”

And that was all it took. Cas leaned forward and kissed him.

Dean didn’t have time to think of it or react. The press of their lips was warm, sudden. A dangerous spark in a dry forest. As he pulled back, so did Cas, looking anxious.

“What was that?” said Dean.

Cas hadn’t looked away from Dean’s face, although there was something to the way he held his body, like he expected to run. “I just—” he said. His voice was every bit as gravelly and flat as usual, but he sounded uncertain, a rare note. “I…”

Cas had kissed him. Dean’s brain and body couldn’t make sense of it, couldn’t work together in any sensible way any longer. His heart started pounding. The heat of the day made sweat rise on the back of his neck and above the lip of his mouth. He was frozen but he was supposed to be doing something. Running from this, striking out, kissing Cas, jumping into the river.

“I shouldn’t’ve—” Cas looked stricken now. “I want to help you and it’s not— I made a mistake.”

Wasn’t this Dean’s fault? Just days ago he had wrapped himself around Cas in the shade of a garden and silently begged for his affection in any shape. He’d had that untoward dream the same night. The colour rose high in Dean’s cheeks and he looked swiftly at the river. Cas hadn’t kissed him in the dream, only touched him, but already Dean’s mind was conflating the real and the imagined, completely out of his control. Dean had stared too long the night of the rain storm. He’d been wrong to and he’d made this happen and it was all because he was broken up into pieces and he got things confused and now there was this, which was too much to handle.

Next to him, Cas rested his forehead against his fist, eyes scrunching closed. “I’m sorry, Dean,” he said.

Dean’s mouth remembered the touch of their lips and wouldn’t let go. He felt they were reddened by Cas’ kiss, the same as that day in the attic, that day when enchantment poisoned itself into sharp fear and which was exactly like right now. There was something wrong with him for all of this. For the fact that he wanted to kiss Cas again and really know what it felt like. If he was damned he wanted to know what he was damned for.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said again. “I thought you were like me.”

It struck Dean for the first time what that would mean. What it would be to be like Cas. What it meant Cas was. And how if he were to say Cas was correct right now, that Dean was not like him, it didn’t feel at all true. How if he were to be able to act on what was true, that would mean giving over to what was in him. He felt so miserable and scared and all he wanted was for Cas to cover over Dean’s body with his own. To hide in Cas’ collar, in the very hollow of his clavicle, the place he’d wanted to kiss just three days ago when he stole comfort from Cas in the garden.

He dragged his gaze back to Cas, who looked equally mired in his own despair.

“Cas,” he said, not certain of what he meant to follow. And when Cas looked at him he leaned in and kissed him.

Cas lost a sound against Dean’s mouth, a melting hum. His hand found the small of Dean’s back. This kiss came with another renewed one, chasing it, then Dean bowed his head, breaking it off but not breaking away. His body shifted deeper into Cas, his hand clutching Cas’ shirt, his forehead resting against the base of Cas’ neck. Cas held onto him this time, cheek brushing against the top of Dean’s head. A hand came up to stroke through Dean’s hair.

“Cas,” he said wretchedly.

“It’s okay,” said Cas. As much as anything could be okay. For a bare second, Dean wanted to believe it would be.

#spirit of the west #bonus content #when your au has an au #there was serious potential to go this route and it was hard to make Dean NOT open up in this scene #because he wanted to and it had been building #and it was very nearly worth the trade-off of learning more about Cas for him #so here's the world where that happened #and other things would've happened differently too #butterflies flapping wings and all

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