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clusterbuck · 26 days

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just a boys’ game

7x04 coda (silly version) | based on my tags on this gifset by @whattarush

“Have you talked to your brother lately?”

Maddie looks up from the tower of blocks she’s been building with Jee-Yun. Chimney’s leaning against the door way, gym bag slung over one shoulder and a hint of sweat still glistening on his skin.

She frowns. “Just the other day. Why?”

“Did you know about the basketball?”

“Oh, the part where he was jealous that Eddie and Tommy are spending time together doing something he doesn’t even like?” she asks.

Chimney points an accusatory finger at her. “So you did know! Why didn’t you warn me?”

“Warn you about—” she looks at him again, at the gym bag bulging suspiciously. Much like it would if it contained, say, a basketball. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” Chimney says, finally walking all the way into the living room. He sits on the other side of the pile of blocks and leans back on his hands. “He used me, Maddie. As a basketball beard.”

“Pretty sure that’s not a real thing,” she says, and Chimney sighs, dramatic and long-suffering.

“Basketball beard,” he says. “Noun. When you tell someone you want to play basketball with them, but you actually just want to use them as a cover to be where someone else is.”

“Is that how words work?” Maddie asks, grinning, and Chimney looks affronted.

“Words work however I want them to work,” he says. “Just ask Shakespeare, he made half that shit up.”

Maddie hums, a laugh nearly breaking through it. “Shakespeare, got it.”

“Oh, you should have seen it,” Chimney says, and accepts a block that Jee-Yun hands him. “Here? No?” he asks, and Jee-Yun sighs, just as dramatic as he had a moment ago, and takes the block back.

“That bad?” Maddie winces.

“I haven’t seen him act this embarrassing since—” Chimney narrows his eyes. “Since Eddie joined the 118.”

Maddie snorts. “Well, that tracks.”

“What do you—” Chimney’s eyes go wide. “Oh,” he says slowly. “Oh, I see.”

“Right? I’m not just imagining this?” Maddie asks. “You should have heard him going on about Eddie and Tommy the other day. Has this been under our noses the whole time?”

“I mean, it hasn’t been that long,” Chimney says.

Maddie frowns. “What do you mean?”

Chimney frowns, too. “What do you mean?”

“Did something change recently?” Maddie asks.

Chimney’s brows draw further together. “Okay, back up. Start from the beginning. What are you thinking?”

“Okay, so, Buck and Eddie and Tommy all met for the first time a couple of weeks ago when you went after Bobby and Athena,” Maddie says, counting it on a finger. “Eddie and Tommy started spending time together.” Another finger.

“With you so far,” Chimney says. “Honestly, makes sense they’d get along. Can’t believe I didn’t think of it before.”

Maddie holds up another finger. “The other day, Buck was sitting at our kitchen table talking my ear off about Tommy this and Tommy that and how even Christopher thinks Tommy is so cool.”

“Still following,” Chimney confirms.

“Buck tricked you into going to a pickup basketball he’s been dodging for years, because Eddie would be there with Tommy.”

“Yeah,” Chimney says. “Because he’s jealous.”

“Exactly,” Maddie says. “Jealous of—”

“—Eddie,” Chimney fills in, just as Maddie finishes her sentence.

“—Tommy.”

Chimney blinks. “You think—”

“Well, I did,” Maddie says, “But actually—”

“No, no, I think you’re onto something,” Chimney says. “He and Eddie have always been weirdly attached at the hip.”

“But he has been talking about Tommy an awful lot,” Maddie says. “It’s suspicious. You know he went to tour the helicopters the other day?”

“Bet on it?” Chimney asks.

Maddie grins. “You’re on.”

#silly version means there will be one about !! bi buck !! later but i couldn't not #911 spoilers #911fic #911 7x04 #shush emma #emma writes

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hollybell51 · 1 year

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Don't bet on it

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Castiel x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005)

Word count: 9.6K (I'm shocked too dw)

Summary: I have no idea how to describe this I'm so sorry it's just smut. There's also some morning-after shenanigans. Believe me if I could I would but thinking of a title was hard enough.

Content: Just... pretty much 9.6K words of shameless Cas smut because I love him. Only one bed, porn with a plot, friends to lovers (sort of), little bit of hurt/comfort and first aid (?), Cas is a bit of warning honestly. Smut: Cas is a virgin, first kiss, making out, hickeys, blowjob, handjob, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (yikes), fingering, very very light dirty talk, very loving very gentle sex, sharing a bed. Dean is a bit of an oblivious idiot, Sam is less oblivious.

Notes: I wrote this while trying to fall asleep at my friend's house and didn't proof read. I've also only known Cas for six episodes (almost seven), so most of the characterisation for him is based of gifsets, incorrect quotes, and other fanfics (so is the lore/plot because I'm not that far into the series yet but I was impatient so just ignore any mistakes or plot inconsistencies if you find them, although I did try). Hence it's probably bad. But oh well, this wouldn't leave my brain until I wrote it and like I said I'm impatient and also I'm a little bit proud of the smut alone and he's fucking hot I mean come on. Dean Winchester is a better man than me because god damn I would've jumped his bones the second he looked at me and I have no idea how he didn't. Be nice.

Cas was watching you. Again. It wasn’t like you minded, but something about his cool eyes following your movements from across the booth made butterflies swirl in your stomach. You were acutely aware of every single bubble in your glass of lemonade, every clink of the ice cubes, every slurpy noise it made through the straw you were sucking on. You probably looked a bit stupid, hunched over your drink and the plate that had contained your burger, the huge shirt you’d borrowed from Sam while the one you’d packed for yourself dried rolled up to your elbows, hanging off your shoulders way too much to ever be considered cute. Not that you wanted to look cute, and not that it mattered, but…

“There’s a pharmacy down the street,” Sam was saying. “They’d probably have more of that antiseptic, right?”

There was a pause in which you snuck a glance at Cas. His gaze was fixed on the bubbles clustering on your straw, mildly interested as they formed and floated away, formed and floated, again and again in an endless cycle. You’d never found bubbles so fascinating, but now that you looked – and you knew he was looking too – there’d never been anything so beautiful.

“(Y/N)?”

Right, yeah, antiseptic. The cut on your shoulder seemed to itch at the thought, prickling under the carefully applied dressing. You’d done it on a barbed wire fence that had barred the entry to a nest of vampires, and a day later Sam was still worried it would get infected. It wasn’t exactly a clean cut – the fence had been filthy, and your assurance that yes, you were up to date with tetanus shots had stopped him driving you to a hospital. You appreciated the concern, but really, you were sure it would be fine.

“Mhm,” you answered, leaning back in your seat. “D’you think it’ll still be open?”

Beside you, Dean frowned, looking around for a clock. “It’s not that late, right?”

“There’s an open sign in the window.” All eyes swung to Cas, who shrugged, pointing. “It’s lit up,” he added.

“Oh, right,” you said faintly. “Thanks Cas.”

He smiled, a tiny twitch of his lips that had no right to make your heart speed up as much as it did. “That’s ok.”

You smiled back. Your face seemed determined to ignore your brain and grin like an idiot, and it was a damn struggle to keep it to a normal expression.

“Right,” Sam said, clearing his throat and bursting the little bubble you could have sworn you’d been stuck in. You would have liked to stay there, where it was just Cas smiling at you. But no, you were being silly.

“Right,” you echoed. There was a slightly awkward silence, in which you swirled your straw around idly, watching Cas watch the movement of ice cubes and bubbles. When you’d first met him, you hadn’t really believed he was an angel. He seemed so… ordinary. Shabby, even. But the longer you were around him, the surer you’d become that he was the real deal. Strange, not what you’d expected at all, but a real honest-to-goodness angel nonetheless. Even now that he was human, there was still definitely something otherworldly in Cas. Something that, despite the grime and rust of the lives all four of you lead, was almost pure, precious to you, and a little unnerving all at once.

“Do you want some?” you asked, gesturing to your drink.

Cas’s eyes snapped up, almost guiltily.

You smiled. “Lemonade.”

He nodded slowly.

“Here.” You pushed the glass across the table, leaning your chin on your hands and watching as he moved the straw around, then sipped it. You’d been having way too much fun plying him with new things to taste, since food now actually tasted like… food. As opposed to molecules. Apparently.

He wrinkled his nose, drawing back and staring at the glass. Then he leaned forward again and took another sip. There was something in his near-childlike wonder that made your heart ache, the appearance of innocence and naivety so profound that it was hard to remember he was – had been – a soldier. A divine soldier of God. Watching him made you want to reach across the table and just… Well, you didn’t know what it made you want to do. Grab him, maybe? It didn’t matter.

“Any good?” Dean asked, watching Cas mildly.

“It’s very sweet,” he reported. “And sticky.”

Despite yourself, you laughed.

Cas surveyed you, then gave another of those little smiles you’d come to treasure. He took another sip, his eyes never leaving your face.

You cleared your throat, suddenly hyper aware of exactly where you were and what you were supposed to be doing. Not staring at – “mooning over” Dean had teasingly called it not even three days ago, a thought that still plagued you – Cas, that was for sure. You slid out of the booth, since you were the one who needed the antiseptic and you were on the edge. “I’ll go across, meet you back at the hotel.”

“You sure?” Sam asked, watching as you dropped some money on the table. Enough to cover your burger and a small portion of the tip.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” You turned towards Cas, shooting him a small smile. He looked a little confused, and you couldn’t deny the pang of guilt that tugged at your insides. “You can finish that off,” you told him, “if you want.”

“Thankyou,” he said after a moment.

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded to Sam and Dean, the former of whom was staring between you and Cas with a look of what could only be described as incredulity plastered across his face. You were going to ignore it, you decided. “Seeya later,” you said, and left.

You stood before the motel room, shopping bag in hand, staring at Sam’s text. Had he and Dean done this deliberately? Was this some kind of conspiracy between the two of them?

“Room 09,” the message read, “you’re sharing with Cas.” And then, shortly after; “Don’t worry, it’s a double.”

Well, you thought, at least you wouldn’t have to share a bed, and at least you wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt of Cas taking the couch – even though he insisted he didn’t mind, and refused to let you do it.

Just as you raised your hand to knock, the door swung open and there stood the former angel, still in his beige trench coat, tie and all. He hadn’t even taken his shoes off.

“Hi,” you said, slightly breathless. There was something stupidly endearing about the way he just stood there, looking at you.

“Hi,” he repeated. “Do you want to come in?”

“Uh, yeah.” Awkwardly, you squeezed past him into the dully lit room, switching on the light with your elbow. Had he just been sitting in here by himself, in the dark? You hoped not, but at the same time, it was exactly the sort of thing you could imagine him doing.

You deposited your groceries – the antiseptic, a new packet of dressings, painkillers, and a twix you’d grabbed at the counter. You’d figured you could share it with whoever your roomie was, and now you were glad you’d had that foresight. You turned, surveyed the room, then did a double take. Surely not. There had to be something you were missing.

But no, on closer inspection, your eyes were not deceiving you. There was only one bed. A double bed, sure, but still only one bed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you muttered, already reaching for your phone.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, a concerned wrinkle appearing between his brows.

“Sam said this was a double,” you told him.

“It is.”

“Yeah, but there’s only one bed. I always feel bad kicking you to the couch.”

“I don’t mind. And besides,” he added, “you’ve never kicked me.”

“No it’s–” you broke off, catching his smile. “Yeah, alright”

The smile widened. He was a little too proud of himself for your liking.

You looked away, hoping to hide your own grin as you dialled Sam’s number. “You said it was a double,” you accused before he could even greet you.

“Yeah, hi to you too,” he snorted. “It is.”

“There’s only one bed, Sam. Does your room have only one bed?”

“No, we’ve got two singles.”

“Lucky you,” you practically spat. “Now I’m gonna have to live with the guilt of knowing Cas is on the couch.”

“So?” You could almost hear the frown in Sam’s voice. “He doesn’t mind.”

“I know, but–”

“Share the bed with him if it bothers you that much,” he cut you off. In the background, Dean was saying something. Sam shushed him. “I’m sure he’d be happy to.”

“What’s that supposed to–”

He interrupted you again, all too cheerful. “You’ll sort it out.”

You stared at the phone, “call ended” flashing up at you. “Fuck you, Sam,” you sighed.

By the door, Cas frowned. “Is something the matter?”

“No,” you sighed again, grabbing the dressings and antiseptic and taking a seat on the end of the singular bed. Through the gap in the curtains, the sky was darkening from the pale purple it had been at the diner to a deep indigo. “Just… Sam.”

Cas nodded solemnly, as if he knew exactly what you meant.

You tried not to pay too much attention to him as you unbuttoned Sam’s shirt, sliding it down off your shoulder to bare the current dressing. You’d had it on all that day and the night before, so you figured it was time to change it. Gently, you peeled back the adhesive, hissing as the air brushed over the cut. It wasn’t as bad as it had been, mostly scabbed over and less raw-looking than when you’d first applied the dressing, but it was still tender. It was awkward to reach too, running from your shoulder along your collarbone, stopping just shy of the centre of the sternum. Stupid, you’d cursed yourself when you’d done it, and you cursed yourself again now.

“Would you like some help?”

You looked up, meeting Cas’s eyes. Soundlessly, he’d crossed the room and was now standing directly in front of you.

He gestured to the cut. “It looks hard to reach.”

“Uh, yeah, it is.” You shifted over, making room for him beside you. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He sank down beside you, his weight tilting you towards him. Your stomach lurched.

Determinedly dismissing it, you turned slightly to face him, one leg dangling off the side of the bed, the other folded under you. Almost immediately you wished you hadn’t done it, because now all you could see was him, bent over you, his face impassive and focused to a fault.

He took the antiseptic from you, gently dabbing it along the edges of the scab.

“Is that alright?” he asked when you gasped softly.

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Just… stings a little.”

Guilt flashed across his face. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s not you. You’re fine,” you assured him. “It’s the antiseptic, it’s normal.”

“Should I keep going?”

You nodded, your heart racing. His skin was cool where it brushed yours, the shitty lighting somehow playing tricks with the colours in his eyes, making them appear even more startlingly blue than usual. Those eyes were fixed on your cut, like it was the only thing that mattered in the world.

“I wish you’d taken me with you,” he said as he reached for a dressing pad.

“Hm?” You frowned, unsure what he meant. You’d gone alone, which wasn’t why you’d fumbled crossing the fence, but it certainly hadn’t helped. Sam and Dean had been after a demon in the next town over – it took precedence over vampires, you all knew that – and Cas had been with them. You’d been convinced you’d be alright to tackle such a small nest, it was only three, barely a nest at all, and had insisted on it. But still, you’d been a bit more wired than usual, and that was probably to blame for your bungled entrance. It didn’t matter now, you were fine. They were dead.

He shrugged, smoothing the dressing over your skin more gently than you’d ever thought possible. “On the hunt. I wish you’d taken me with you.”

“Nah,” you shook your head, trying to dispel the ache his action caused inside you. “You had other stuff on. You don’t need to be wasting time running after a nest of vampires, demons take priority.” You smiled. “You’ve got more to worry about than a silly little hunter who can’t jump fences.”

Cas looked up, that little wrinkle reappearing on his forehead. “That’s not true,” he said, “I’ll always have time for you. I’ll always worry about you.”

You froze, taken aback by the… intimacy of the words. You’d mentioned before that you liked when people just said what they meant (“Even if it hurts you?” he’d asked, frowning. You’d said that you’d rather that than be left searching for double meanings and hidden clues, and he’d seemed to find that acceptable.), and since then he’d indulged you in that regard. But this felt different, it felt more real than anything he’d ever said to you before. He’d always have time for you, he worried about you.

“Really?” you asked. “You mean that?”

He nodded, his eyes sincere where he held your gaze. There was something here, you knew, something tingling in the air between you. You’d half thought you were imagining things when you noticed him looking at you. You’d chalked it up to him being, well, Cas, and hadn’t allowed yourself to dwell too long on the glimmer of hope that it was more than that. And he’d been an angel for Pete’s sake; divine, untouchable, totally out of your reach. But here, now, with his hand resting where it had settled on your thigh and his face inches from yours, the dimness of the motel somehow illuminating every dancing fleck of colour in his eyes, every beautiful shadow and line on his – human – face, you weren’t ignoring it any longer.

His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. “You’re important to me, (Y/N).”

Oh. Oh. There it was.

He was still looking at you, but there was a hint of what you would have said was nervousness, maybe apprehension, mixed with the sincerity and lingering concern in his eyes. It was so… raw. You felt strangely vulnerable, while at the same time like you were seeing something you weren’t supposed to.

Involuntarily, your eyes flicked down to his lips, your breath hitching in your chest. Fuck it, you thought, then closed the few inches of space between you and pressed your lips to his.

He was completely motionless, and for a wild moment you were convinced you’d grossly misread something and had just made a massive mistake. Then it was like he was coming to life beneath you, pushing back against you, his lips parting under yours, his free hand finding its place cupping your cheek. His mouth was soft, impossibly soft. His tongue, when you brushed against it with your own, tasted like your lemonade.

It was near dead silent in the room, the ticking of the clock on the wall and the distant thrumming of traffic outside the only noises. Then, as you slid your hand up over his leg, fingers squeezing gently at his thigh, Cas made a sound.

It was halfway between a sigh and moan, tiny and restrained, and you could feel him hesitate in the kiss. This is new, it said. This is nice. You let your lips curve into the smile they’d been trying to, squeezing again. It’s alright, you told him with your hand, you’re alright.

You drew back momentarily, sucking a quick breath as Cas chased you, his hand on the back of your neck pulling you closer and closer and closer and closer and impossibly closer until your chest met his. Then you were shifting into his lap, swinging your leg over his and straddling his hips like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was. It sure felt like it.

“Cas,” you breathed, breaking away properly this time and raising your hands to cup his face. “Castiel.”

“Hm?”

You moved your thumb in a soft arc over his cheekbone, smiling as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. His lips found your hand, peppering your palm and wrist with featherlight kisses.

“Can I?” you asked, reluctantly freeing a hand to push at the trench coat he was still wearing.

He looked up, frowning. “What?”

“Take it off,” you whispered, then heat rose in your cheeks. “If you want to, of course. If you want this. You don’t have to.”

He shook his head, pulling back to shrug off the heavy piece of clothing. The blazer followed. He loosened his tie, then seemed to think for a moment before undoing it altogether. It was the first time you’d seen him without it, and he looked… different. Unguarded, almost. Then he was reaching up and unfastening the buttons of his shirt, torturously slowly. He paused, meeting your eyes.

“Is this alright?” he asked.

You smiled, nodding. You’d been staring, you realised, watching his deft fingers work at the material so intently that you hadn’t been thinking about what would show on your face. You took over, finishing off the last few fastenings and pushing the shirt back off his shoulders. You didn’t know what you’d expected his body to look like. You’d had the vague notion that it would be nice, that it would somehow match the rest of him, and you hadn’t been wrong, but now that he was in front of you that same disconcerting feeling of unearthliness haunted the back of your mind. This was Cas, Castiel, and that made it somehow hallowed – irony aside.

“Are you alright?” He was peering up at you, apprehensive.

You nodded. “Are you?”

He echoed your gesture, his fingers running along the collar of your own shirt. A question, a request, testing the waters.

Careful of your still-tender shoulder, you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it smoothly over your head, then undid your bra and cast it to the side. Cas’s eyes snapped to your chest, interest and a sort of hunger mixing on his face. Hesitantly, slowly, his hand inched up your waist to your ribs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He paused.

“It’s ok,” you breathed. When he still seemed wary, you reached down and took his hand in your own, guiding it to your breast and giving a gentle squeeze. His breath hitched, his tongue darting out between his lips.

“I’m…” he broke off, swallowing hard. He shifted, a hard bulge pressing against your thigh. You smiled.

“Hm?”

“I’m… I’m kind of…” He stopped again, floundering.

“It’s alright, Cas. You’re alright.”

He looked up, something close to nervousness dancing across his face. “I haven’t done this before,” he whispered. “I don’t know…”

Oh. Right. Why hadn’t you thought of that? It made sense, you supposed. Despite Dean’s best efforts, Cas hadn’t picked up the other guy’s… habits, at least not yet. You’d wondered about it briefly before coming to the conclusion that it had to be an angel thing, a choice on his behalf. You knew some people didn’t want that with just anyone, which you could understand. What you couldn’t understand was a world where nobody was interested in Cas, but then again, you might have been biassed.

You bit your lip. “Do you want to? It’s ok if you don’t.”

“I do,” he said, his hand still resting on your chest. “I really do, (Y/N). But I don’t know… what to do.”

“I’ll help you,” you assured him, affection blooming in your gut. And alongside it, an odd sort of pride. Cas was trusting you here, enough to admit he didn’t know what to do. It was more than any guy you’d ever been with had been willing to give away.

“We’ll go slow,” you continued. “You tell me what you like, what feels good. If you wanna stop, you say so, ok?”

He nodded.

You took his face in your hands again, running your fingers over the rough stubbled coating his jaw. “Can I touch you?”

“Please,” he murmured.

You trailed your hand down his neck, along his collar bone, over his chest. His skin was soft, smooth. It wasn’t scarred like Dean or Sam’s or your own, and suddenly you wondered if that was somehow a turn off for him. He’d been an angel, immortal, eternal, unblemished even now. If he hadn’t done this before, or even if he had with a normal human, he probably wouldn’t have encountered the kind of skin a hunter such as yourself possessed. Would it bother him?

Then his chest heaved under your hand, the flesh twitching as your touch crept lower, sideways, up again, mapping the expanse of his torso. He moaned softly as you pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, fingers splayed over his heart. Again, you swept down the centre of his body, all thoughts of your own imperfections dashed from your mind as you revelled in the little hums of pleasure you were coaxing from him.

Carefully, slowly, you inched lower. You passed his belly button, the light trail of hair that led down from it, finally encountering his belt buckle. You paused, tracing aimless patterns over the skin just above the waistline of his pants, pushing your fingers below the material after a moment.

“Is this alright?” you asked, watching his face. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed.

“Mhm,” he sighed. “Yes.”

You smiled. God, he was beautiful. “You wanna take ‘em off?”

At that, his eyes snapped open, the pupils so wide they almost obscured the blue of his irises. “My pants?” he asked.

You nodded. “You don’t have to, but…” You ran your hand lightly over the increasingly noticeable bulge you could feel. “I can touch you? Here.”

He stared. “Do you want to?”

You gave a little huff of laughter, nodding. “Only if you do. I can keep touching you other places if you want, I can kiss you…” You stopped as he deftly reached down and undid his belt, button and fly in one fluid motion, lifting his hips momentarily and kicking off his pants. It was very fast, impressively smooth. And underneath…

Your mouth watered at the sight. The outline of his cock straining against his underwear, a small wet patch already forming. You usually didn’t indulge the mantra of “bigger is better”, especially not when it came to penises, but there was no denying that your pussy was already aching at the thought of the stretch Cas’s would cause. Not that it was a behemoth, far from it, but he was certainly well endowed.

His voice snapped you from your reverie, jerking your gaze away from his dick and back to his face. “Is that…” he paused, searching your gaze anxiously. “Is it alright?”

Your heart melted. “Oh, Cas,” you sighed. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Just perfect.”

A sound that could only be described as whine slipped from his still kiss-bruised lips, sending a bolt of heat shooting down your spine to pool between your legs. Before the request had formed on your tongue, he shed his underwear too, leaving himself bare to you.

“Have you touched yourself?” you asked, jerking your gaze from his cock. Fuck, you’d never wanted to lay hands on a dick more in your life.

Cas looked away for a moment. “No,” he said. “Should I have?”

You shook your head. “It’s up to you. I’d like to, if you’re ok with it.”

“Touch me?”

“Mhm.”

He opened his mouth, closed it again, then nodded.

“Ok.” Dammit, you thought. If this was his first time, you wanted him to feel good. Would he tell you if he didn’t? You thought he would, he was always honest when you asked him to be, and he clearly wanted this. But it was that same want that made you wonder if he’d just keep going no matter what, and you didn’t want that.

You quickly spat into your hand, stretching up, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Then, on second thoughts, you licked softly at his bottom lip. His breath rushed against your skin, the kiss hot and messy and barely even a kiss at all. It was more you licking into Cas’s mouth, Cas experimenting with his tongue in yours. After a few tries he found a rhythm, soft and supple, gentle and careful. Wonderful.

It was then that you reached down with your spit-lubed hand, wrapping your fingers around his throbbing length, coating the whole thing with moisture. There was already a little precum beading on the tip, and you used that too, your hand sliding easily. The skin here was smooth too, apart from the thick veins and swell of the head, the slit that you ran your thumb over, causing Cas to moan – really moan – into your mouth.

“Like this?” you murmured, moving your kisses away from his lips, over his stubble-roughed jaw, down to his neck. You sucked gently at the hollow under his jaw bone, hot and wet, leaving a red mark behind. You moved further down, over his jugular, more and more hickeys blossoming in your wake.

“Ah, (Y/N), yes–” Cas gasped. “Oh, just like that, please.”

You hummed softly, his breathlessness coupled with the words themselves like fog clouding your mind. All you wanted was more. More of his ragged voice, more of the desperate pleading, more of his hips jerking up into your hand and as your fingers slid smoothly over his cock. Your mouth paused at the base of his throat, made more apparent by the strain in his neck – the Plender gap, you thought it might have been called. You could vaguely picture that word with an arrow pointing to the spot on a medical diagram, although you weren’t sure why – and sucked a particularly dark hickey into the skin there. His collar would cover it in the morning.

His hand, which had been flitting about your waist, suddenly found its way to your hair. His fingers tangled in it, pulling your head back up so he could kiss you again. You smiled, your own free hand squeezing at his thigh just as you had before.

He moaned again, deep in the back of his throat, the sound reverberating through your whole body. How had you waited this long? If you’d known it’d be like this, you’d have jumped his bones the second you laid eyes on him. Hell, you’d wanted to.

“Can I use my mouth?” you asked between kisses – they still weren’t really kisses by any stringent definition, too messy for that.

“You are, hm, using your mouth,” Cas pointed out.

You laughed. It was so… matter of fact. “I mean down here,” you explained, giving his dick a gentle squeeze. “I can keep doing this if you want, but…”

“But?”

“I wanna taste you, Cas,” you smiled.

His mouth fell open, his cheeks colouring. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he was new to this, you supposed. “Taste me?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, ducking forward to nip at his lip. “Wanna feel you in my mouth, wanna choke on your cock. I’ll make you feel so good, Cas, I promise.”

“(Y/N).” His voice was even more gravelly than usual, roughened by the raw desire glinting in his eyes.

“Mhm?”

“Are you sure?”

“That’s sweet,” you laughed again. “I’m sure, Cas. Remember you can stop me whenever you want, though, yeah?”

“Yeah, alright.”

“Alright?”

He kissed you again, more gently and with more precision than before, then nodded. “Go ahead.”

You felt a grin break across your face, your mouth already watering. You didn’t waste time, giving Cas a quick peck on the cheek before sliding off the edge of the bed and kneeling between his legs, your arms resting comfortably on his thighs. You ignored the slight pull of your cut, taking his cock once more in your hand and pumping it gently, once, twice, three times before you lowered your head and kissed the tip.

Cas’s stomach twitched, his hand going once more to your hair as his breath caught in his throat.

“Alright?” you asked, your own breath ghosting over the sensitive area, raising goosebumps.

“Yes,” he sighed. “Keep going?”

You smiled. “Magic word?”

“Please,” he practically growled.

Alright then. You slid your lips over him, relaxing your mouth as you sank as far down his length as you could. What wouldn't fit in your mouth was taken care of by one hand, the other busy holding his hips down. He nearly whined when you moved, bobbing your head back and forth slowly at first, but faster by the minute.

“Oh,” he panted, “oh, (Y/N), yes–”

“Good?” you mumbled, but it didn’t come out sounding like the original word at all. Still, Cas seemed to get the point.

“So good, feels so good. You feel so good, (Y/N), you have no idea.”

The praise went straight to your panties, pooling with the rest of the hot wetness that had been gathering steadily. You’d wanted to take your time, be as careful and gentle as he’d been with you. But now, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the weight and the heat of him, you were losing your composure.

“Oh,” he whispered again as you sped up, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. He dick was slick with your spit and only getting messier, the saltiness of his precum mixing with the lingering sweetness of your lemonade.

You moaned, the vibrations jolting Cas’s hips despite his best efforts to stay still, as well as your hand attempting to hold him down. You gave a tiny huff of laughter out your nose, lowering your head even further until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, relaxing completely.

“(Y/N),” he panted. “(Y/N).”

“Hm?” You glanced up at him, your eyes watering slightly. He made a sound you’d thought only existed in pornos as his fingers tightened in your hair.

“You look… ah, so…” He paused, the words choked by another moan as your tongue swirled around his cock. “So beautiful.”

For the second time, your heart felt like it was melting in your chest. You smiled, your enthusiasm doubling. You were gonna make him cum in your mouth, you were determined. And after that – if he wanted, of course – you’d spread your legs for him and let him fuck you senseless.

He was close, he was so damn close, cock twitching and fingers clutching desperately at you despite his best attempts to be gentle. “I’m–” He broke off, gasping. “So much, (Y/N), it’s so much.”

You wondered if you should stop, if you should pull back and ask if he was ok. If he’d never done this before and hadn’t touched himself either, it was unlikely that he’d ever experienced an orgasm. Maybe you should reassure him. You ran your free hand down his thigh, squeezing gently. It’s alright, you tried to say with the gesture, hoping he’d understand. I’ve got you, you’re alright.

Then he was groaning deeply, his head thrown back and his eyes closed, thighs shaking under you and hot saltiness shooting down your throat. His skin shone with sweat, his chest heaving, his hand gripping your hair so tight it almost – almost – hurt. But it couldn’t have, not when your throat was working to swallow every drop of what he was giving you, not when he looked so beautiful laid out bare above you, not when you could see the pure, raw pleasure painted on his face.

As gently as you could, you drew back and licked him clean. You rested your head on his thigh, placing a soft kiss there, then drew back and sat, waiting.

Finally, Cas opened his eyes and looked at you. He took in your swollen lips, the flush you could feel dusting your cheeks, the tears that had leaked from your eyes, the bird’s nest that was your hair. And he smiled, reaching out a hand to help you up.

“Are you alright?” you asked, settling back on the bed beside him. You took his hands, holding them close to you. “It wasn’t… too much?”

“It was wonderful,” he said solemnly. Then he looked away. “Can I…”

“Yeah?” you prompted. “Can you…?”

He turned back, meeting your eyes. “I want to make you feel like that, too.”

Your stomach did a flip. “Oh.”

“Will you show me?” Cas’s eyes searched yours, curious and sincere. And how the hell could you say no to him?

You nodded, unbuttoning your pants and casting them off – admittedly with much less grace and efficiency than Cas. After a moment’s hesitation you did the same to your underwear, dropping them carelessly over the edge of the bed. You could hunt for them in the morning.

He was watching you the whole time, eyes following every movement you made in that way that was so him. You’d been unnerved by it before you’d gotten to know him, but now it just turned you on.

Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and ran his hand over your stomach, up, up, up until he reached your breast. He didn’t stop as he had before, his thumb skimming your hard nipple, making you suck in a harsh breath.

“Is this alright?” he asked.

You nodded. “Mhm.”

“What about this?” He slid lower, past your belly button to where your leg joined your hip. It sent tingles running through your whole body.

“Mhm.”

“This?” Lower still, over your thigh, along the inside of it, so close to where you wanted him most.

“Yeah, Cas, you don’t have to ask.”

“I want you to feel–”

You stopped him with a kiss, brief and gentle. “Whatever you do is gonna feel great, ok?”

“But I’m–”

“Cas.”

He fell silent when you placed your hand on his face, leaning into your touch.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered. “I’m gonna help you, remember?”

He nodded, leaning forwards to press his lips against yours. He was getting pretty good at kissing, you noted. Not that he’d been bad when you’d started, but he’d figured out what worked with you.

“Show me,” he urged, the hand that had been tracing over your leg finding yours. “Show me where to touch you.”

This is it, you thought as he drew back, watching where his fingers twined with your own. He had officially smashed apart your standards for all men – and former angels – with just six words. You did as he asked, drawing his hand down between your legs to your now practically drenched pussy.

“Here,” you murmured, a little shock going through you as your fingers brushed your clit.

Cas’s eyes were wide, the pleasure-haze from his orgasm all but gone now. “Here?” he confirmed, pressing gently at the stiff little bundle of nerves.

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice much less steady than you’d have liked.

“Like this?” He slid his finger in a careful circle around it, his eyes never leaving your face.

“Yes, Cas, just like that.”

He did it again, then again and again. You sucked a harsh breath through your teeth, your hips twitching involuntarily.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “Fuck, Cas.”

“Is this alright?” he asked mildly.

“More than alright,” you half laughed, half panted. You broke off in another moan as he moved his hand, sliding the tips of his fingers around your hole, his palm pressing against your clit. You briefly wondered if he was doing it deliberately or just experimenting, and if he’d heard something about how to finger girls somewhere. If so, you wanted to know where. But, you thought a moment later, who really cared when it felt so damn good?

“Can I?” he murmured, watching your face carefully.

“Yeah,” you nodded frantically. “Yeah, go ahead— please.” The word was torn from you in a way that made colour bloom over Cas’s face as he pushed his finger into you. The heel of his hand was still pressing on your clit, and you ground down on it in a desperate search for friction as he added another finger, your own fingers digging into his shoulders and your breath coming in short gasps.

“Am I…” he started, then swallowed. “Is this good?”

“So fucking good,” you replied. “How the fuck are you so good at this?” It was ridiculous, unfair. Most dudes who’d tried had lamely poked at you until you’d given up trying to show them and just moaned loudly, leaving them to grin smugly, convinced they’d made you cum. Cas, however, was well on his way to conjuring the real thing.

He looked away for a moment, a small satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Good, you thought. He should be satisfied, he was fucking phenomenal. “I’m not sure,” he said.

It was your turn to smile. “Well you are,” you said simply. Then he moved his hand again and all you could think was fuck, because he really was incredible. He was kissing your neck, sucking at the spot where it met your shoulder, his other hand resting on your hip as you rocked against him, his own soft moans mixing with yours.

And God, you wanted him to fuck you.

“Hold on,” you panted. Much as his fingers were doing it for you, you couldn’t fight the shiver the thought of his cock buried inside you sent down your spine.

Cas froze immediately.

“No, no, it’s ok,” you assured him quickly. “I wanna try something else.”

“Is this not–”

“You’re doing great,” you interrupted. “I promise. But…” As before, you slid your hand gently down to palm at the already half-formed erection sitting between his legs.

Cas frowned.

“Would you like to fuck me?” you asked tentatively. You hated how unsure you sounded, how small.

His eyebrows shot halfway up his face.

“Only if you want to,” you added quickly. But from the way his dick had visibly hardened at your words, you guessed he probably did. So, you continued, “I’d like it if you did.”

Again, his tongue darted out over his lips. His voice was husky when he spoke. “I’d like it too.”

“Ok, what are we waiting for?” You smiled, shuffling backwards and easing yourself back on the bed. When you saw that Cas wasn’t following, you reached over and took his hand, dragging him down on top of you. “Come on,” you encouraged.

He gave a little “oof” as he crashed against you, quickly propping himself up above you. It looked uncomfortable.

“Relax,” you said, wriggling into the mattress and running your hands over his arms and shoulders. “It’s alright.”

“I don’t want to squash you.”

You smiled, pulling at him to come closer. “You won’t, don’t worry.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. Besides, I wouldn’t mind.”

He snorted indignantly. “I would. Then whose lemonade would I steal?”

You laughed at that. Castiel, former divine soldier of God, joking about stealing your lemonade while he was about to fuck you. If you’d gone back and told yourself from a year ago, she’d have slapped you in the loony bin. “You could just order your own,” you pointed out.

“I could,” he conceded. “But I will not.”

“Ok, I don’t mind.” You stretched up, capturing his lips with your own and drawing him down towards you. What you’d said was true, he really didn’t need to worry about squashing you. You liked the warm weight of him, the firmness and certainty that his body pressed against yours brought, his arms caging you to the bed.

You smiled as his tongue slid along your bottom lip, opening your mouth almost immediately. Yeah, he knew what he was doing now. You hooked your leg over his, pulling his hips hard against your own. You were still tingling, still electrified with want and need from having deprived yourself of his fingers just minutes before, and almost without your conscious awareness you ground against him.

You swallowed the little moan that slipped from his mouth, rubbing your wetness over his hard cock.

“(Y/N),” he gasped, breaking the kiss, his hips moving in time with yours.

“Cas,” you echoed, equally as breathless. “Please?”

He swallowed, his eyes dark.

“I want you inside me,” you continued. “Please, Cas, I need you inside me. Now.”

He cursed softly, so softly the only thing you caught was the tone. You wondered what angels cursed by. Not God, surely. But it didn’t matter, because he was taking himself in hand and lining up at your entrance, looking at you for permission. “Here?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Gently, so gently, he pushed inside you. You gave a little whimper that might have been embarrassing in any other situation at the stretch, the delicious feeling of being filled up completely by him. Cas, on the other hand, didn’t make a sound. He wasn’t even breathing, just staring at the place where your body swallowed his, his eyes wide.

“Hey,” you said softly, smiling at him when his eyes met yours. “You alright down there?”

“Yes,” he whispered, running a hand reverently over your stomach. His fingers brushed over your scars, some silver, some a newer pale pink. Your earlier doubts fluttered to the front of your mind, but you determinedly pushed them away. Now was not the time.

“You can move,” you told him, rocking your hips gently against his by way of demonstration. Then, “Please?”

He nodded, one hand resting on your hip as he pulled out a little, sliding smoothly back in. He hummed quietly, did it again, then again and again and again, finding his rhythm. It was good, it was as gentle as everything else, firm enough to pull at that special place deep in your belly, steady and decisive. Most of all, it was Cas. Cas fucking you, Cas’s cock sending spasms of heat through your body, Cas’s hand steadying himself and you, Cas’s lovely gravelly voice mumuring your name.

He leant further over you, bending his head to place a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the cut-free side of your collar bone, following it with another, more forceful one, then more until you were sure you looked like someone had spilt wine over your chest. You supposed it was only fair, given how many love bites you’d showered him with.

“Shit, Cas,” you whispered, your hand coming up to run over the back of his head, fingers carding through his mussed-up hair. You’d always wanted to fix it, stroke it down, maybe make it worse. When you’d first met him you’d gone so far as to tell him to his face that it was “un-angelic”. He’d been amused by that.

Now, he groaned against your skin. You smiled to yourself, stroking his scalp again and coaxing another wonderful little moan. You curled your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, lifting your hips off the mattress in time with his thrusts. His breath fanned over your neck, the muscles of his arm taut.

“I’m so close,” you whispered, and you were. The tightness was building in your stomach, coiling and swirling into a dense knot of pleasure. Every movement Cas made had his pelvis hitting your clit, the bedhead hitting the wall behind it – you briefly felt bad for the next room’s residents – and Cas’s cock hitting deep inside you. The only sounds were the squeaking of the mattress – again, you felt bad – and the wet slap of skin on skin, peppered with your combined moans and sighs.

“Fuck, Cas,” you gasped, your voice rising in pitch as you spiralled closer, closer… “Oh, shit, fuck, oh my God, Cas, Cas, I’m gonna cum, holy shit I’m gonna– Castiel!”

You let go, your eyes screwed tightly shut, spine arching off the bed as the bomb inside you exploded. Sparks fizzed through your veins, every muscle in your body clenching as stars speckled your vision and you cried Cas’s name over and over like some kind of mantra.

He hadn’t stopped, in fact he’d sped up, and when your mind finally crashed back into your body his hips were stuttering, his face buried in your neck. He spilled inside you, hot and thick as it had been in your mouth, a deep groan thrumming through you from where his lips still rested on your chest. He stilled after a moment, still holding most of his weight off you despite your arms wrapped around his back, whispering your name like it was a prayer.

You wriggled sideways, smiling as he went limp and flopped down beside you. Well, sort of beside you. His head and the better part of his shoulders still rested over your chest, his lips ghosting over you in feather light kisses, his hand running up and down your arm.

“We should get cleaned up,” you whispered after a moment.

“Hm?”

“Clean up,” you repeated. “We’re all sticky.”

“Oh,” was all he said. Then, “alright then.”

You extricated yourself, squeezing his shoulder gently as you rose and headed for the bathroom. You debated pulling him into the shower with you, but as your eyes settled on the folded washcloth by the sink you scrapped that idea. This would be quicker and easier, and you were tired, dammit. There’d be other opportunities — at least you hoped there would be.

You wiped yourself down, turning to find Cas standing in the doorway. The flickering yellow neon strip of illumination above the mirror cast weird shadows over his body, still shining with exertion. Beautiful, even with the medley of hickeys on his neck and the mess of his and your cum around his crotch.

You beckoned him closer, spongeing away the sweat and other spunk coating his skin. Occasionally you’d look up, without fail meeting his eyes. The usual interest had been replaced with something more; something whole and warm and just for you. The thought made your heart skip a beat.

When you were finished, you stretched up and kissed him again, just once. Then you took his hand, heading back towards the bed.

He hesitated, and you turned. He was looking at the couch, indecision marring his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I assumed you’d want the bed to yourself,” he shrugged. “You usually don’t share”

Oh, ok. “Usually, yeah,” you replied, as casually as you could. “But I wanna share with you.” You looked down at your still joined hands, pulling gently. “Stay?”

After a moment, he nodded.

It took longer than it should have to sort out the stupidly layered sheets and blankets, but finally you were both finished wriggling and shifting around, comfortably facing each other. You smiled at him, taking his hand again.

“I wondered what it would feel like to lie beside you, while you slept. You looked so… at peace.” He leaned forward the few inches between you, his lips cool against your forehead. “Beautiful.”

Your voice was quieter than you’d meant it to be, and breathier. “You watch me sleep?”

“It’s hard not to.” It may have been your imagination, but he sounded a little guilty.

You laughed, leaning forward to whisper, “That’s a little creepy, Cas.”

“Should I not have?”

“I don’t mind,” you said after a pause, “but maybe try not to mention things like that. Most people would find it weird.”

“You don’t?”

You shook your head. “Not when it’s you.” The hand that had been holding his was free now, sliding up to cup his face almost of its own volition. You pressed your lips to his, softly and slowly, sweet as syrup. You shifted closer still, draping your arm over him.

“Because I’m important to you, too?” he asked when you drew back. His eyes searched yours in the dimness, sincere and open. God, he was just… so much.

You smiled. “Yeah, Cas, you sure are.”

You woke to a hand running over your shoulder, the rise and fall of a chest beneath your cheek and the steady beating of a heart. Cas’s heart, Cas’s chest, Cas’s hand.

“Hi,” you whispered, sitting up. His hand ceased its movements, his lips curling into a gentle smile.

“Hello.”

You dipped down, kissing him softly, your finger tracing the outline of his lips when you drew away. “Sleep well?”

He sighed deeply, staring at the ceiling for a moment before his gaze found yours again. “Better than I ever have before. Thank you, (Y/N).”

“That’s alright.” You looked away, heat rushing to your face. “It was my pleasure.”

“I can see why you – humans – like it so much.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“Sex,” he explained. “I think I get it now.”

“Oh,” you laughed. “Well, that was pretty good sex. For someone who’s never done it before, you were amazing.”

“Really?” He leaned back, surveying your face carefully.

You nodded. “And anyway,” you went on, “it usually feels better when it’s someone who’s…”

He waited, watching you stumble over your words.

“You know…” You paused, swallowing, half wishing you’d just left it at telling him he was good. “Someone who’s special to you,” you finished lamely.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “then I’m glad it was you.”

You didn’t really know how to respond to that, so you just smiled and kissed him again. It was slow and lazy, his bare chest silken under your own, nothing but the soft rush of breath and tiny hum he gave, the rustle of the sheets, the ticking of the motel room clock. Then your phone rang.

“Fucking hell,” you muttered as you broke away, giving Cas a final apologetic peck before making your way to the table where you’d dumped it. Sam’s name flashed on the screen.

“What do you want?” you growled.

“Breakfast,” he answered. “What’s up your ass?”

“I was sleeping” you answered smoothly, then, “I don’t like being woken up.”

He snorted. “Yeah, alright. Meet us outside in, say, twenty minutes?”

You glanced at Cas, who was now sitting up and, you guessed it, watching you. You squished the phone to your chest. “Breakfast in twenty?” you asked.

He nodded, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. You couldn’t help staring just a little as he went about getting dressed, drinking in every rapidly disappearing inch of skin like some kind of sexually repressed Victorian maiden.

“Sure,” you said to Sam, then hung up. The problem that you hadn’t thought through last night was the hickeys. You had a scarf, you could button your shirt over your chest, and thankfully Cas had shown more restraint than you had. The most problematic mark sat right in the hollow under his jaw, two love bites blending together. It wasn’t even hickey-shaped, really, but you didn’t think that’d fool Dean and Sam.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, fastening the final button on his shirt.

“Nothing,” you sighed. “But Dean’s gonna give us endless – and I mean endless – shit.”

“You’ve killed demons, (Y/N),” he smiled. “And you still can’t deal with Dean’s endless shit?”

“Oi! I can, I just don’t want to.” You crossed the room, poking him square in the chest. “And you’re gonna be dealing with it too, so don’t get cocky.”

“We’ll deal with it together.” It was tentative, almost a question.

You smiled, taking his hands. “Castiel and (Y/N) vs Dean Winchester’s endless shit. I can work with that.”

Things were a little strange over breakfast. Sam and Dean kept glancing at each other, having their annoying silent conversations that consisted of raised eyebrows and side-eyes, the occasional jerk of the head or twist of the mouth. Self consciously, you re-adjusted your scarf, pointedly not meeting anyeone’s eyes. You’d almost made the call not to sit next to Cas, but then he’d looked up at you from his spot by the window and you didn’t stand a chance. You were grateful for your decision when the food came, it made sharing with him a lot easier.

“Dude,” Sam said suddenly, twisting to face his brother and nearly taking out his glass of water. The eyebrow raising and eye-widening had gotten more intense in the last minute, and clearly they’d hit a boiling point.

“It’s not a hickey!” Dean protested. “It’s not even hickey-shaped!”

You froze, fork halfway to your mouth.

“What?” Cas voiced your thoughts, frowning over the cup of coffee he was nursing.

Sam sighed. “Cas, look out the window for a second.”

“Hey–” you started, but you were too late. Both Sam and Dean’s eyebrows shot halfway up their foreheads, and Cas was dutifully peering through the glass. Why did he choose now of all times to listen to Sam?

“That’s a hickey,” the younger man was claiming triumphantly, nodding to the stain on Cas’s neck.

Dean whistled softly. “That’s two hickeys. It’s like… a Siamese hickey.”

“Gross, Dean,” you muttered, ignoring the heat in your cheeks.

He shrugged. “It’s a beautiful, natural act, (Y/N), lighten up. Congratulations, Cas. Who’s the lucky girl?”

Sam made a noise like he was choking. You studied your hands on the table in front of you. Dean grinned. Cas didn’t say anything.

“Was it that waitress?” Dean asked, leaning forwards. “She was cute, man, I’d have tapped that.”

“No, it wasn’t the waitress.”

Dean frowned, then his eyes widened. “The hotel receptionist?” he whispered. “Dude, she was a milf. Nice one.”

“Dean…” Sam started, looking between you and Cas. You glared.

“What? He deserves a pat on the back. I gotta say, I wasn’t sure if you had it in you.”

Sam sighed. “I don’t think it was the hotel receptionist.”

“No? Who else?”

Again, he glanced at you. You hadn’t moved, stiff as a statue and bracing for impact. You were so close to just spitting it out right there, biting the bullet and getting it over with. But you hadn’t discussed that with Cas, and you couldn’t exactly do so now.

Dean was looking expectantly at Sam, who was shaking his head in disbelief. You couldn’t blame him. Then, as if in slow motion, Dean’s face fell and realisation dawned in his eyes.

“No,” he said softly. “No, you didn’t.”

It was your turn to shrug. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t get a little bit of a kick out of Dean’s absolutely horrified expression. Endless shit that was about to rain down on you and all.

“You slept together? You,” he looked at you, “and you?” He looked at Cas.

“Yes,” the former angel said stiffly. “It was nicer than the couch.”

“No, I mean–”

You raised a hand, stopping him. “Yes, Dean,” you sighed. “Just… get it out now.”

“Aw, man.” He groaned, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “That was you guys?”

“I told you,” Sam shrugged, looking all too smug.

Cas frowned. “Told him what?”

“We could hear you,” Dean muttered, his cheeks going a deep red. “I didn’t think we were sharing a wall, Sam did. Drew me a diagram of the motel layout and everything. I didn’t wanna believe it, I didn’t wanna know that… Aw, man!”

Sam’s smile widened, and he extended a hand across the table. “Pay up.”

“Pay up?” You glared at him, incredulous. “What the fuck do you mean, pay up?”

“I mean he owes me fifty. Thanks for that, by the way.” With this, he nodded to Cas.

You gaped. “Please don’t tell me you bet on me and Cas sleeping together. And please don’t tell me you bet for it.”

“What can I say? I knew it’d happen eventually, the way you drool over each other. Not my fault Dean actually took me up on it.”

You groaned, twisting to bury your face in Cas’s trench coat. Absently, he patted your hair. “Why can’t you guys just be normal about one single thing?” you lamented. “Who the hell bets on their friends sleeping together?”

“Actually,” Dean said through a mouthful of bacon, “it’s a very normal thing to do.”

“Mhm, back at Stanford–”

“Back at Stanford,” you mimicked, cutting him off. “I can’t believe you two.”

Dean held his hands up as if surrendering. “Hey, sorry, but I didn’t think either of you would have the balls to ever make a move. And it was fifty dollars, don’t try to tell me you wouldn’t take that.”

“I can’t believe I’m gonna have to sit in the car all day with you.”

“Me too,” Cas added solemnly.

You sighed, taking his hand under the table and laying it between you, squeezing in full view of Sam and Dean. Cas squeezed back.

“You’re not allowed to… do anything in the back of my car.” Dean said after a moment. “Especially not with me or Sam there too.”

Defiantly, you shifted closer to Cas, fingers still entwined with his, firmly meeting Dean’s eyes. “Don’t bet on it.”

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basilone · 1 month

Text

And now for... something completely different. 😉 I thought it'd be fun to show y'all the before and after of a gif!

On the left side, you see the scene as it is in the show. I only made it move, nothing more. On the right side, you see the scene as it is in my gifsets. I sharpened it, brightened it, colored it, and made sure you can see as much detail as possible.

As you can see, the difference is pretty huge! And I'm sure you can imagine a lot of time went into going from the untouched left scenes to the finished gifs on the right. It's a little sneak peek into my giffing kitchen! If you want to see a particular before/after for a gif, feel free to ask for it anytime... but I thought these would be a solid first look. 💙

#masters of the air #mota #motaedit #mastersoftheairedit #basilcreations #the second gif in this set took years off my life #I feel almost bad for not posting the before/after of *that* Bucky set lmao #but wanted to keep these all the same size so

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hotvintagepoll · 1 month

Text

Propaganda

Gene Tierney (Laura, The Ghost and Mrs Muir, Leave Her to Heaven)— The class, the elegance. The way she walks into frame and immediately all focus is on her. She had a pretty lengthy struggle with mental health that she describes in her book, which I think made her all the more sensitive in portraying characters like in leave her to heaven. Also she dumped JFK so

Moira Shearer (The Red Shoes)— Moira Shearer is one of the most awe-inspiring dancers ever put to screen. Watching her performance in 'The Red Shoes' changed my fucking life. When I saw her in 'Peeping Tom' it was one of the most anxiety-inducing experiences I've ever had watching a film. Moira Shearer was not only an actress who can make you feel, she's an actress who can make you feel *desperately afraid* for her. An all-time favourite for horror, dance, and just her /presence/, man.

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Gene Tierney:

The entire plot of Laura is that a guy has to become completely obsessed with a woman after just seeing her portrait. This only works because Gene was cast in the role. I 10000% believe anyone could fall in love after seeing her face.

Those eyes! Just look at those eyes! She’s at her hottest in Leave Her To Heaven— I literally want her to ruin my life.

Absolute grade-A babe, she is the perfection incarnate.

Gene Tierney was beautiful, poised, intense. I associate her with roles where she was murderous or an intelligent woman being patronized to - like a woman on the edge! As far as I am concerned, she deserved to do whatever she wanted.

She had a slight overbite which was amazingly sexy, and a throaty voice that was very memorable as well. She’s terrific in Laura, which reminds me I should watch it again.

EYES!! Her diabolical acting in Leave Her to Heaven is just perfect, Rosamund Pike definitely took notes for her Gone Girl from her.

Oscar-nominated and simply one of the most beautiful women to ever walk this Earth.

Absolutely stunning. In Leave Her to Heaven, she reaches Rosamund-Pike-in-Gone-Girl levels of “holy fucking shit?!?!?!” She had a fling with JFK in the ‘40s and also dated the exes of Rita Hayworth and Hedy Lamarr (Prince Aly Khan and W. Howard Lee, respectively). Sadly, her daughter was born with a disability (during a time in which there were few good mainstream options for disabled children and their parents), likely because of a fan who was sick with measles and went out of her way to meet Tierney (who was pregnant) anyway. Topical! Sure would be good if people stayed home when they were sick! Anyway, she was also a Republican, which sucks. Laura and Leave Her to Heaven are great viewing though.

Moira Shearer:

[editor's note: if your TWs include death, body horror, or general freaky stuff, go forward with caution with the videos. Enjoy!]

Scottish flame-haired professional ballerina who made a successful move into films with ballet classic "The Red Shoes" and several other films. The best way to convey her beauty and grace is to see her in motion so gifsets are attached.

Gifset 1

Gifset 2

Gifset 3

Please check her out as Olympia in The Tales of Hoffmann, it's one of my favourite examples of automata ballet and she's so awesome in it

youtube

Her performance in 'The Red Shoes' (if you ever have the opportunity to see this on the big screen, TAKE IT.)

youtube

#moira shearer #gene tierney #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2 #Youtube

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galedekarios · 3 months

Note

Hi there! This is something I noticed and I wonder if this is true for you and other players:

Gale seems to get bored/go into his idle animation faster than my other companions. I've noticed it's pretty consistent across all my playthroughs--if everyone's standing around (if, for example, IRL me has to get something to drink or see what the cats are destroying), Gale will usually start his practice-spell-casting-gesture fairly quickly, while the other companions take a little bit longer. Even Karlach doesn't start her dancing-in-place animation as quickly as Gale starts his gesturing.

It's obviously not a huge thing, and other players might have different experiences, but I think it's so cute. Maybe Gale figures he needs to make good use of his time if the protag is going to insist on standing in the middle of the forest/the Underdark/a busy Baldur's Gate street for no good reason :D

(Most of the time it's the gesture for me, but on occasion he does touch the Orb mark first ;;;______;;;;).

thank you for your message! i was wondering about this too ever since i made my gifset trying to record gale practising (presumably) the somatic components of a spell.

i've noticed this too and i think it very much suits his character! i'm not sure if it was intentional, but...

i do think gale's mind is always winding and weaving (no pun intended!) and going a hundred miles per hour at any given time, so it makes sense that he would try to use any sort of downtime in a productive manner or keep himself occupied.

it suits gale, who tara calls her 'clever friend' who 'never leaves a knot knotted':

Tara the Tressym: My clever friend never leaves a knot knotted.

gale, who, if you leave him behind, begins to study the rune he was pulled from:

Gale: It drew me in. But how? - Gale: Safer to be out here than trapped in there. But if I could remain in there safely... - Gale: Could the effect be reproduced? Perhaps with the right application of Weave... - Gale: I would think Netherese, but that's impossible. And yet...

gale, who talks in his sleep:

Lae'zel: Gale, I've heard you talking in your sleep. Your mate needs better rest for our journey. Gale: And deprive them of the pleasure of hearing my nocturnal postulations? I'd never be so cruel. Gale: The mind absorbs much while we believe ourselves dormant. To lie beside Gale of Waterdeep is positively educational.

it's one of those things that just make sense for him. 🖤

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3 #text: asks

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datura-tea · 20 days

Text

okey dokey! i just finished the fallout show! some Thoughts under the read more

tl:dr, the (bethesda) fallout vibes were definitely there. i liked it as a show on its own merits but as a part of the series canon... i'm mad, and that anger is kind of overriding the little i liked about it. overall maybe 2.5/5 stars and im being generous

things i liked:

visually, it's stunning - i could see scenes already being made into gifsets - the color grading is pretty good; even in dark scenes i could see and understand what was happening

the sets are soooo good!! costume design was alright too

title cards were fun and cute

they did some interesting stuff with the cultures of both vault 33 and the brotherhood of steel

they used the sound effects from the games :)

i liked the wastelanders!!! big npc and random encounter energy. i kind of want a whole show of just them. for example i love the marketplace and settlement in filly; it feels very lived in

the background characters weren't just young thin able-bodied conventionally attractive white people :) there's so many elders, which i loved!! ma june and barv were cool. i love gruff old lesbians

lucy!!! she was already kind of weird and a little off-putting even in vault 33 ("what's your sperm count" as an opener to the husband she was just arranged married to is WILD) and i like that. she's sweet and bullheaded and surprisingly competent :)

maximus is kind of an ass, but is also a pathetic nerd and brotherhood dickrider who actually doesn't really know anything. kind of a girlfailure

the ghoul was pretty cool too!! i liked him, though more for his prewar story than the one he has post-apocalypse

lucy's brother norman kinda grew on me. "i lack enthusiasm for every job that i do here" so relateable. also short king <3

THE DENTIST THAT BUYS TEETH. never thought that would be a Thing but now that i think about it, it makes sense

the monsters that we have were cool!! wish there had been more of them

MATT BERRY IS IN THIS!! i just really like him so i got excited :))

maximus and lucy's "wanna have sex?" talk LMAO

vault 4's various mutations!!

those giant unwieldy fuckass duffel bags that brotherhood squires lug around hahahhahahaaha

vault 4 and its genetic experiments because its main conceit is that it was ruled by scientists who hybridized humans. it's exactly the right amount of fucked up i want in a vault

i like that the protagonists regularly get captured and eat shit

FRED ARMISEN IS ALSO HERE

haha hacking minigame :) also chatting via terminals (and im assuming pipboys?) is canon now

they're growing crops in the wasteland + bustling trade + livestock + pets yay

robobrain was cute

things i was just ok with:

dane, the they/them brotherhood of steel aspirant who was fucked over so maximus can get their spot as a squire LMAO what a waste of a potentially cool character

IT'S SO FUNNY that there's yodelling whenever the ghoul comes into the scene ????? WHY

fight scenes.... pretty good but someone definitely had the bloody mess perk (i don't do well with gore so ew yucky). also lots of [VATS NOISE]

pipboy was not used as much as i thought it would be

cousin stuff... i get it, i guess in a vault you'd have a lot of cousins and not a lot of choice, so some incest would probably happen

the ghoul being vault boy's inspiration?? not sure what to feel about that tbh

the casual dismemberments... and equally casual attaching of limbs... not even prosthetic limbs.....

the vaulties eating good healthy well-balanced meals. giving out caviar in the welcome basket. kinda 50/50 on it

the vault 31 - 32 - 33 subplot couldve been more fucked up

have brotherhood knights always been celibate or did i miss the memo

there are regular chickens and... deer? for some reason?

the ghoul's design. it's fine in action but mostly it's meh

the vault 4 cult for moldaver

vault 4 as a refuge for shady sands survivors. im mad about it but like. i get it

that guys "elixir" (some altered jet??) fixing everything about thaddeus' foot instantenously AND GIVING HIM HEALING POWERS???

things i did not like:

lucy's plot premise is very much fallout 3 redux

lucy and maximus as a ship is very meh and kind of forced and not compelling. go give us nothing!!!

wilzig's head as a macguffin that everyone is after... ehh kind of just okay as a plot device

also the ghoul randomly eating that other ghoul???

the squire who bullied maximus calls himself fat but he isn't fat?? not even chubby??? hello????? just got a soft face

water chip being fucked feels very fallout 3 also but they kind of dropped it?

they definitely named cooper howard after todd. as tribute probably, which he doesn't deserve

fiend = cannibal now?????

maximus recognizing vault 4 as a cult but not recognizing the brotherhood as one lol

vault tec evil capitalism vs hollywood communists storyline was kind of basic. and bland. and weak

the enclave could've been established + explored better

no geckos or any other west coast-specific monsters

showing me ncr ranger armor when the ncr is gone

ghouls have healing powers?? WITHOUT RADIATION??

things i hated hated hated:

the ghoul needing drugs to combat the Disease That Turns Ghouls Feral

feral ghouls being basically zombies :/

IN EPISODE FIVE. THEY REVEAL. THAT SHADY SANDS. WAS BOMBED. THE ENTIRE NCR. WAS BOMBED. IN 2277. THE YEAR OF THE FIRST BATTLE OF HOOVER DAM

BASICALLY RETCONNED FNV?? IM PUTTING MY EARS IN MY FINGERS AND GOING LA LA LAAAAA

VAULT-TEC DROPPED THE BOMBS ???? BIG MT + MR HOUSE BEING IN ON IT????

THE BIG STUPID FUCKING REVEAL IN EPISODE EIGHT?? THAT THE OVERSEER BOMBED SHADY SANDS BECAUSE HIS WIFE DIDN'T WANT TO GO HOME WITH HIM??? FUCK THAT???

the brotherhood being the main faction of the west coast now. booo!! booo!!!!

the fucking last shot of new vegas being a burnt out husk. probably foreshadowing that hank is going to house's body but. UGH I HATE IT

to summarize: it came out strong! and stumbled hard falling face fucking first at the finish line. i would have liked it a lot more if it did not shit on the west coast as much as it did. because what the FUCK. if it was set literally anywhere else and left the ncr alone i would have liked it more, because on its own, as a self-contained story, divorced from the rest of the fallout series canon, it's not bad!!! it's fun, there's some good bits, it has the ~vibes~ but - and this is a big but - i don't know what it's trying to say. it's all very surface level and the very vague themes i picked up on are not really reiterated in the plot

it's like... the bits that make it fallout are there. vaults. the brotherhood. ghouls. a dog named dogmeat. but there's something lacking. it's like your usual sci-fi post-apocalypse show with a fallout veneer. idk. i like it for what it is but also i hate it for what it's emblematic of. that's all

#fallout show #spoilers #fallout show spoilers #shh peri shhh #i liked it but also i didn't #hope that helps!#watch it but probably pirate it i think #anyway it's 5am im going to bed #im trying to be positive. it's not all bad. but it sucks

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phonydiaries · 7 months

Text

Worse for The Wear, P X Reader

Disclaimer: I've barely progressed past the first miniboss in Lies of P and I don't want to spoil the story for myself so I'm going off of information pretty much exclusively based on gifsets and screenshots,,, so if some of this isn't lore-accurate pls forgive me! it's indulgent fluff. Also if you enjoy this short piece and want to read more from me please tell me! I'd love to interact with this fandom more. Thanks, hope you enjoy!

---

As you kneel under the dank and decrepit streetlights, your knees are dirty, damp, and freezing cold against the pavement of Krat Station. Couldn’t this stranger have chosen a more convenient place to lose consciousness, you wonder. Perhaps he could’ve collapsed in a setting just slightly less dramatic than a torrential downpour? You’ll be sure to ask him as soon as he awakes. If he awakes. God, you hope he does.

You came upon him by accident really. Weaving your way through alleyways, dimly lit and speckled with decaying automatons. Miraculously you were able to avoid being detected, though the boy now lying in front of you wasn’t so lucky. The sight of him made your heart sink; limbs strewn about on the ground, his face equally obscured by dark soaked locks over his eyes and the wet pavement pressed against his cheek. The poor thing’s once-white shirt was discolored to a near black, smeared with slick tarry oil. Against your better judgment, you stopped to make sure he was alright.

With one arm you reach around the man’s torso and ungracefully heave him into a face-up position. As gently as you can, you adjust so his head is allowed to rest in your lap. The stranger's face, like his clothes, is marred with automaton grease; streaked across the bridge of his nose, caught in his dark angular brows, blotting his delicate mouth. He looks elegant somehow, even in his current state. His lips are slightly parted as he breathes in, shallow. Breath! He is alive! Curious, you ever so slowly bring two fingers to the man’s mouth and carefully wipe away a smear of oil. As you go to inspect the material closer, something closes, steely and cold, around your wrist. Startled, you yelp and your eyes dart to whatever is now clutching your arm. A masterfully crafted hand of pure steel curls its fingers around your wrist. The metal chills you to the bone. Monetarily frozen, you catch a glimpse of brilliant blue glinting in the eyes of the stranger, like sunlight diffused through seaglass.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you.” You say, your voice a bit more shrill than you would like. The stranger's eyes narrow momentarily, but quickly soften. His energy is clearly limited, without much to be spent on anything other than remaining conscious. This is clearly evidenced by the immediate loosening of his grip as his head lolls back into your lap.

“Oh…” You murmur, watching him with some concern. It’s difficult somehow to work up the courage to ask for more details on his injuries. You find yourself somewhat distracted by the beauty radiating from his waifish face. Your hand slides into place, cupping his pale cheek against your palm. His skin is soft, but cold. He can’t stay out in this storm much longer if he’s to have any chance at recovery. He seems to have momentarily slipped back into sleep, and so you take the opportunity to swipe away a lock of dark hair covering one eye.

“Sir,” you say softly “Can you stand? I’ll help you out of this rain if you’re able.”

He stirs then. His lids flutter, heavy, as if each time he blinks it becomes harder to keep his eyes open. Your heart jumps a bit at the sight of it.

“Please,” You trace the line of his sharp cheekbone “I’d be happy to get us both out of this mess.”

The stranger says nothing, but nods, and leans forward in an attempt at becoming upright once again. You preemptively hold your arms open, and he falls somewhat awkwardly into your chest. He’s heavier than you expected for someone with such a slight build! Although the mechanized arm probably accounts for most of it. With a bit of strain on your knees, you’re able to hoist him up into a standing -albeit hunched- position, his arm slung haphazardly around your shoulders. You swear a whimper escapes his lips as his chin dips into the nape of your neck. You try to focus on the task at hand, but have to admit to yourself that the feeling of his breath on your skin is electrifying.

“Where -um- which way did you come from?”

The stranger lifts his head just barely and looks around, obviously dazed. His gaze settles ahead and he raises his mechanical arm in a weak gesture towards a structure in the distance. You recognize it as Hotel Krat, a place you know of, but have never actually been.

“There?” You ask, and the weary boy nods. In preparation for the journey ahead, you adjust your stance slightly. “Onwards and upwards then…” You mutter; and the two of you stumble forward stepping on each other's toes occasionally. Slowly but surely, you head towards shelter.

The interior of the hotel is lit warmly, inviting and decorated beautifully. Under better circumstances you would’ve taken ample time to admire the whole place, but as soon as you step through the doors your companion collapses against the wall. He sucks in a sharp breath of air at his shoulders collision with the wall. Quickly you come to his aid, holding him steady at the waist and offering up your shoulder once again for him to lean on. Through a thick curtain of thoroughly drenched dark hair he looks at you, appreciative.

“Thank you.”

And the words are so soft, so melodic, you have to wonder if you only imagined it. Stunned, you respond simply,

“You’re welcome.”

You feel those striking blue eyes dance across your face, making it wildly difficult to think straight, much less speak. A sudden realization comes upon you; that in this moment you want nothing more in the world than to stay here, even freezing cold and soaked to the bone, taking in the sight of this man.

You notice just above his brow there’s still remnants of that black liquid. Absent-mindedly, you move your hand from your companion’s waist to wipe it away, leaning in ever so slightly to get a closer look. The boy catches your hand halfway. At first you think he’s swatting it away, but instead he stares at it with undivided attention, as if it were some rare treasure. Silently he intertwines his fingers with yours. For a moment, you’re frozen again, a jolt of blue lightning shooting up your spine at the quiet intimacy of the gesture. The mysterious boy inches closer, his nose grazing yours as he places a tender, appreciative kiss on your lips. You feel your face flush and reflexively tighten your grip on his hand. This seems to startle him and he stumbles out of the kiss. Your hand, however, is still holding tight to his, and so the two of you take a short sweet tumble onto the glossy floor.

Quickly you attempt to readjust, but you’ve landed conveniently head first against the boy's chest, so close you can hear a mechanical whirring beneath his skin. Your companion lifts your face with his human hand and inspects it carefully for injury. He squints, but seems satisfied that the only thing bruised by the fall is your ego. Carefully, the boy stands, pulling you up with him. His mouth curls into a kind smile, which becomes a melodic laugh gracefully escaping his lips.

We’re even now, you think to yourself.

Now we’ve both helped each other up.

---

#hurt/comfort #p x reader #pinocchio x reader #lies of p #GN reader

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senualothbrok · 5 months

Text

I write fics about Baldur's Gate 3

I mainly write about Gale. I write angst, hurt/comfort, romance and smut (Gale x Tav/OC/reader). I often write about heavier issues like trauma, mental illness, and grief.

You can find a list of my work and other misc stuff below the cut. You can also find me on AO3.

I really hope you enjoy my work and blog. I'd love to hear from you with any comments, feedback, random thoughts, or fic requests, so don't be a stranger!

--------------------

Enough (Non-18+. Astarion x female Tav. Angst. Trauma and recovery.) AO3 link

You agreed to help Astarion with the Rite of Profane Ascension, but you can't watch him go through with it. You interrupt the ritual, and Astarion turns on you. Now, you must deal with the aftermath of your actions.

Love and Beauty (Non-18+. Non-ascended Astarion x female Tav. References to bereavement.) AO3 link

A few days after Astarion has taken you to his grave, you are lying in bed together. You decide it's time to make a confession.

Rest (Non-18+. Gale x female Tav. Hurt/comfort.) AO3 link

You have defeated the Netherbrain and survived. But when Gale asks you to marry him, you find that you cannot accept his offer.

Content (Non-18+. Gale x Tav. Mild hurt/comfort. Fluff.) AO3 link

After the reunion party, Gale wonders whether you regret choosing him over Astarion.

Prayer (Non-18+. God!Gale. Gale x Tav. Heavy angst. Grief/mourning.) AO3 link

The God of Ambition has returned to Elysium, and you did not follow him. You grieve for Gale, and you struggle to move on with your life.

A Show of Love (18+. NSFW. Gale x female reader/Tav. Smut.) AO3 link

Sometimes, Gale doesn't seem sure how much you love him. So you decide to show him.

Words (18+. NSFW. Gale x female reader/Tav. Smut.) AO3 link

At your home in Waterdeep, you and Gale recall the early stages of your relationship.

Progress (Non-18+. Professor Gale x female OC. Angst. Mental illness and recovery.) AO3 link

When you start your studies at Blackstaff Academy, you expect a battle with your demons. But the last thing you expect is to fall in love.

Promise (Non 18+. Professor Gale x female OC. Angst with a happy ending. Mental illness and recovery.) AO3 link

Gale learns what it means to love and be loved. Sequel to Progress.

A Brush With Danger (Non 18+. Gale x female Tav.)

Anon prompt: Gale's thoughts and feelings before his infamous declaration in the Shadow-Cursed Lands.

Unexpected (18+. NSFW. Professor Gale x female reader/Tav. Smut.) AO3 link

You pay Gale an unexpected visit after one of his classes.

Absolution (Non-18+. God!Gale. Gale x Tav. Angst.) AO3 link

The God of Ambition considers the last of his attachments. Sequel to Prayer.

The Difference (Non-18+. AU (isekai). Gale x female Tav/OC. Angst. Hurt/comfort. Mental health issues.) Multichapter. AO3 link

When a portal appears in your living room and Gale Dekarios tumbles out of it, you think you are going insane. But truth is stranger than fiction, and things are rarely what they seem.

Mortal pleasures (18+. NSFW. Smut. Gale x female Tav/reader.) AO3 link

Gale has shown you how gods bond in the astral. Now, you show him how good mortal pleasures can be.

---------------

More about me

Senua - 35/F - she/her

This post is a pretty good description of who I am!

I also love animals (esp dogs/cats/horses), tattoos, the Viking age, and existentialism.

Memes

I occasionally make Gale-related memes because I think I'm funny 💀

The inside of my brain

When your soul mate is a pixel man

Smooching Gale - the struggle

Gale porn is therapeutic

Fic vs therapy

Other things

* My dear friend @dolceaspidenera made some wonderful gifsets of Gale x Aurora from Progress and Promise. They are so beautiful, I still haven't recovered from them.

* Lovely @mahiiimahiiii made a beautiful piece of art inspired by The Difference, which overwhelms me with so many feels.

* My beloved bestie @practicallydeadinside-blog gifted me a cameo from national treasure Tim Downie explaining why Gale is so shredded and it changed my life.

She has also blessed me with:

- a comic strip of Words which has destroyed my ovaries and impaired my cognitive functions.

- a phenomenal drawing of Mia from The Difference.

* I commissioned one of my favourite artists @demiesop to draw Gale and Mia from The Difference, and she truly delivered.

* Tim Downie kindly did a beautiful reading of Gale and Mia's wedding vows from The Difference, which I treasure so much.

#baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #gale fic #astarion fic #bg3 gale fic #bg3 gale smut #gale smut

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anna-hawk · 7 months

Text

Distraction

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank can be incredibly distracting without realizing it.

Warnings/Tags: pretty much silly PWP, vaginal sex, bearded Frank

WC 2,2k // Explicit 🔞

This was meant to be part of the Beardthal Bash, but I didn't have the time to finish it until now. It's inspired, once again, by the look Jon has in the GIF by @darlingshane just below. He makes me absolutely weak looking like this, and this little fic shows it 😅. Check out the full gifset for more drool worthy Jon.

Catching yourself staring again, you pressed your lips into a thin line in annoyance at yourself and dropped your eyes to the documents you were supposed to be going over on the coffee table.

“He’s only fixing a freaking shelf, get a grip,” you mumbled under your breath, while you tried picking up where you’d left off and adjusted your position on the couch.

You jotted down a few notes before you stopped to think, and your gaze automatically moved upwards to land on Frank. Again. Rubbing a palm over your forehead, you pursed your lips at your boyfriend, who was completely unaware of your predicament since he had his back to you. He had the day off and after running some errands earlier that morning, he’d decided to take up repairing that one bookshelf that always looked crooked for whatever reason. Nothing out of the ordinary. Yet, you were unable to not stare at him. The issue actually lay in how he looked. He’d let his hair grow out again, the soft strands falling to the sides or into his face, and he was sporting a nicely groomed beard instead of his usual thicker one. You loved the fuller beard, but the trimmed version definitely did something for his jawline. If that wasn’t enough, he’d gone for a pair of jeans that hugged his long legs and ass, while a red tee shirt spread over his back and chest. He looked completely at ease, since those clothes were comfortable and simple. There wasn’t anything fancy or specific about them, but the look as a whole was turning you on wildly and driving you to complete distraction. Something you really didn’t have the time for. You wanted to be done with that boring paperwork and move on. You had considered going into the bedroom, but you didn’t have enough space and the printer was in the living room and…

As Frank raked his fingers through his hair to push it out of his face, which caused the shirt to ride up and reveal a large part of his lower back, you threw your hands in the air with an explosive sigh.

“Frank?”

“Hm?” he replied distractedly, as he checked the level of the shelf.

“Would you mind finishing with the shelf a little bit later?”

Frank turned around and gave you a surprised look.

“Uh, sure? Am I makin’ too much noise?”

“What? No, no, you’re not. You’re just really distracting,” you said, before you could stop yourself.

“Distractin’?” He cocked an eyebrow and put the screwdriver on the shelf.

Your mouth worked silently and you ended only nodding. There was no way you were admitting to why he was so distracting.

Frank approached you with a partly curious and partly amused smile, his lips pulling up to one side.

“But I ain’t bein’ noisy,” he asked for confirmation.

“You’re not,” you replied with a faint nod as you glanced at the documents before you and not the gorgeous man coming closer.

How did your request of him to stop the repairs backfire on you like this? Now you didn’t only have him right in front of you, but you also had his full attention. Chancing a brief look up at him, you saw him watching you attentively, obviously waiting for you to elaborate.

“Your… shirt’s distracting me,” you blurted out stupidly.

“My shirt,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah, just…” You made a shooing motion as you got up to head for the printer sitting on a small desk behind the couch, trying for nonchalant, but not succeeding in the least.

Frank snorted from behind you at your behavior, and you soon felt his presence at your back. Of course the man wouldn’t listen to you.

“So it’s just the shirt? What if I take it off?”

“No!” You whirled around with wide eyes, knowing that a topless Frank would only make things worse, especially when his scent was already doing things to you.

Frank smirked and narrowed his eyes at you.

“I meant that I could change into another one.”

You blinked at him and cleared your throat. “Oh… uhm… that’s…”

“Wanna tell me what exactly is distractin’ you, Sweetheart?” Frank asked, his voice lowering.

You were standing so close now and Frank’s eyes were boring into yours with an intensity only he knew how to use.

Briefly looking away with a huff of a laugh, you slightly pursed your lips and shrugged.

“You,” you muttered with a small wave to indicate his whole form.

“And how exactly? I wasn’t doin’ nothin’.” He tilted his head to one side, eyeing you curiously from under his lashes.

“Just don’t, Frank,” you groaned and closed your eyes for a second.

“Don’t what?” he chuckled.

He was the worst.

“Come on, I need to get this done,” you whined, lifting your hands to push at his chest as he moved in closer. Well, push really wasn’t the word, since you didn’t put a lot of force into it. At all.

“Tell me,” he coaxed with a rough voice, while he was leaning in to graze his lips over yours, his hands going to your hips.

“Frank, I need to finish this,” you whispered desperately, but Frank only kept going. “You just look fucking hot,” you finally admitted when his mouth trailed towards your jaw.

Frank lifted his face a bit to look at you.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you huffed through heavy breaths. “The hair, the beard, the shirt, the jeans… just… I need to finish filling those in, and you’re being so …ugh… Can you go do something else now?” you practically pleaded.

Frank laughed lightly under his breath, but instead of pulling away, he leaned in again. His tongue moved into action now, the tip gently stroking over your upper lip and making you whimper.

“Frank”, you tried, as your eyes closed on their own accord while Frank maneuvered you until you were standing with your back to the couch again. “Need to…”

“Yeah, I know, baby, but I don’ think you’d be able to concentrate now. How ‘bout you lemme take responsibility for distractin’ you?”

As he cupped one side of your face, his tongue licked over your bottom lip now. He hadn’t really kissed you yet, but you felt as winded as if he’d kissed you breathless. Your legs shook and it didn’t take any effort on his part to get you to sit down and lean back until you were lying flat on the couch with Frank slipping between your thighs.

“You’re leaving the apartment once we’re done,” you pouted while simultaneously wrapping your legs over the back of his thighs.

Frank’s loud bark of a laugh had your stomach jumping happily, right before your heart accelerated when Frank finally sealed your lips with his after he gave you a nod of agreement. His beard scraped over your mouth, and you loved the contrast of his soft lips and the coarser hairs of the short beard. You lifted your hands to his head and stroked your fingers through his hair, getting a low grunt from him whenever you pulled at it lightly. Frank made quick work taking off both of your tops, before his mouth was at your jaw once again and trailing a row of kisses all over it and down your throat. While he was busy driving you crazy with his mouth, his hands went to your pants to open them, before he leaned up far enough for him to pull them down along with your underwear. You were now fully naked under him, while he was still half clothed. The sight of him, with his flushed chest and large bulge in his jeans, had you squeezing his thighs with yours and reaching down for his fly. Frank grinned as he looked at your eager hands before he leaned down on top of you for another deep kiss. About to complain that he was stopping you from opening his jeans further, you could only gasp when one of his hands slipped between your legs and two large fingers stroked through your folds. Frank groaned into your mouth at your long moan of pleasure when his fingers slowly slid inside you one after the other.

“Frank, please,” you breathed through the kiss, as you gripped at his shoulders while he was gently fucking you with his fingers. “Please, don’t tease me.”

Frank made a soft humming sound before he lifted his head to slowly caress his lips over yours with the faintest of touches. For a second, you thought that he wouldn’t listen to you and tease you some more, something you usually did enjoy and Frank knew it, but he pressed a quick kiss to your lips before he knelt up. Your hands instantly shot down again, finishing what they’d started as they opened the jeans all the way and then pushed them down as far as possible to free his length. As you leaned up to try to get the pants lower, Frank grasped your wrists and gathered them in one palm before he was pushing you down on the couch again, your hands held over your head on the armrest.

You could feel his breath hitting your skin as you both panted, your faces only a few inches away from each other, while Frank’s eyes bored into yours. Taking his weight on the hand holding yours captive, Frank used his other hand to guide himself inside you. You were unable to look away from his intense gaze as you gasped loudly when he slowly entered you, never stopping until his hips were flush with yours. Frank stayed like this for a few long seconds, until you keened and moved your hips instead, wordlessly begging him to move. Move he did, but he didn’t thrust. He gyrated his hips, grinding them into yours and making you feel his whole length as it moved inside you. It was the sweetest of torture, since it wasn’t enough to actually get you anywhere, but the pressure of his thick cock rubbing along your inner walls felt incredible all the same.

“Frank, please,” you repeated, while your legs wrapped around his hips, and you tried to use the leverage to move up and down a bit, but Frank forced your hips down.

You whined and looked into his eyes. You needed him to move so badly, it was driving you crazy.

“Frank,” you gasped, eyes wide. “Please. Need you to make me come. Need you so much.”

You knew that begging and asking for what you wanted would always get you exactly that, and you sometimes teased him with that knowledge, but you weren’t playing now. You truly needed him.

As expected, Frank instantly complied.

“Anythin’ you need, Sweetheart,” he rumbled, right before he pulled almost all the way out, only to snap his hips forward again.

You cried out in bliss as your legs trembled over the back of his thighs, while Frank thrust inside you over and over again.

“You gonna come for me like that?” he asked in a low voice, as he shifted his hips just so when he adjusted his grip on you.

You could only nod, wide-eyed, as you hurtled towards your release. The orgasm took your breath away completely, leaving you with your mouth parted, but with no sound coming out of it for the first few seconds. Your next inhale was a shuddering gasp and a long moan, your whole body trembling with the force of your pleasure. Through the intensity of it all, you barely had the time to see Frank’s eyebrows coming together as his eyes closed as he came as well, his warm release shooting far inside you. You caught his mouth with yours as he leaned down to share a long and uncoordinated kiss, before he pressed his forehead to yours. He let go of your hands after another beat, letting you stretch your arms out before you wrapped them under his arms and around his back to hold him to you.

“Think you can focus on those documents now?” Frank smiled, as he pressed a small kiss to your lips.

You groaned and shut your eyes at the reminder, which had Frank chuckling under his breath.

“Promise I’ll behave,” he added with a grin, as he rose but remained kneeling between your legs.

“Go put on a hoodie, yeah?” you grumbled half-heartedly, accepting the hand Frank was extending to help you up.

Frank nodded and vanished into the bedroom, while you headed into the bathroom to clean up.

As you walked back out a few minutes later, fully dressed and presentable again, ready to deal with the paperwork, you skidded to a halt at the sight of Frank.

“Are you trying to kill me?” you yelled, pointing at his chest. “You’re supposed to zip up the hoodie or put on a shirt and not…” you flailed your hands around. “Show off your chest, for crying out loud. Okay, out.” You pushed at Frank now, intending to have him leave like planned, but Frank laughed and caught your hands before kissing you on one corner of your mouth.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he amended, making a show of zipping the hoodie up over the top of his chest when it had been open far under it at first, showing far too much skin for you to handle.

“Thank you,” you huffed with a roll of your eyes and returned to the coffee table, sitting down in front of it.

Now, where did you stop again?

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle #reader insert #frank castle smut #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher fanfiction #mes fics

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