Porn Battle recap!
First off, the ones long enough to qualify as fic:
Contractual Obligation - Good Omens/Supernatural, Aziraphale/Supernatural!Crowley, a bit sweet and a bit weird, PG13
Let Me In and Don't Let Go - Good Omens/Supernatural, primarily Aziraphale/Castiel but with background Aziraphale/Crowley and Castiel/Crowley by-proxy. GRACE PORN. NC17
And now, the remainder!
Let Go - Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, panties kink, NC17
Even if Lucifer had been locked away, even if Chuck had disappeared and the Croatoan threat been neutralised, the apocalypse Zachariah had once shown him still felt far too real for Dean's liking. He couldn't say it out loud, not when anyone else who knew about that apocalypse knew it had been averted and when they had so many genuine dangers to tackle, but he liked to make moves towards avoiding it however he could.
He hesitated before killing in a way he never had before - he didn't want to be that Dean, a Dean who could throw his friends away for one chance at finishing off the enemy. He kept his gun in anything but a holster. He'd even let his militaristic habits slip, exercising a little less, taking a little less care of his weapons, and the slight guilt of it was almost a pleasant distraction from his greater concerns.
More than anything, he didn't want his future self to be the only one who knew all his secrets. He couldn't tell all of them - had spent far too many years learning how to hide his feelings, his thoughts, his weaknesses - but letting some of them slip was enough.
Dean pulled Castiel on top of him, wondered how fucked up it was that he only trusted Castiel with this particular secret because he'd seen the angel wearing a little girl. Castiel didn't seem to judge him for it, didn't seem turned on or disgusted by the panties clinging to Dean's ass - red satin, Valentine's Day material, cheap and disposable and wasn't that just Dean's old sex life all over?
Castiel stared down at him with impassive blue eyes and Dean almost wished for those old days; it was simpler when he wasn't terrified that one day he would say the one thing, that one day Castiel would refuse to give him this.
He was hard enough the material was starting to bunch up at the front, damp where the head of his cock brushed against it, and Castiel's fingers were a gentle tease through the satin, grazing down the line of his erection to knead his balls.
"Fuck," Dean gasped, hooking his ankles around Castiel's shins, spreading himself wide. "Don't tease, Cas, I can't -"
Castiel nodded, wetting his fingers with lube before pulling the panties aside just enough to expose Dean's ass, pushing inside with minimal warning. Dean didn't even tense, too hung up on the feel of satin constricting his cock and his thighs, and he couldn't even wait as long as it took for Castiel to finish one thrust; the moment he felt Castiel push into him he came, shuddering, grinding and groaning at everything this meant. He was being fucked by an angel he couldn't help but trust, who he'd told one of his truly hidden secrets to; he was being fucked by an angel while wearing satin panties.
Castiel didn't mind his lack of response afterwards, and the ache of being fucked while limp was no hardship. Not when he was still reeling from coming, still gathering what little sense he had left.
He wouldn't say thank you. Revealing a secret didn't mean opening up.
"Take these with you," Dean ordered afterwards, peeling off the red satin scrap and wiping himself down with it before shoving it in the angel's hands.
Castiel's hands clutched tight around the material before he nodded, disappearing with a downward beat of wings Dean couldn't see but could feel, air cold on his sticky skin.
Castiel never bothered with goodbyes. Dean didn't honestly want him to.
Goodbyes might mean an ending.
We're Never Alone - Being Human (UK), George/Annie/Mitchell, temporarily human Annie, NC17
George didn't know how he had got this lucky or how long he'd be this lucky for, but he knew he didn't want to risk asking questions and wasting what time they had. After Annie's fingers rubbed at his ears, her grin bright and beautiful and solid, he'd kissed her with hardly a second thought before shoving her into Mitchell's arms and starting to strip off his layers.
Mitchell got with the program pretty quickly, and part of George couldn't help but think of course, vampire, sex is their thing, but he couldn't hold onto any feelings of jealousy long enough for them to count. Not when Annie was warm and touchable, and not when Mitchell kept staring at him hungrily in between kissing Annie hard.
He couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious when he pulled off his socks and realised he was the only one of them standing naked, Mitchell still fully clothed while Annie wore her vest and jeans, but if he could have trusted anyone to make him feel at home he should have trusted them. Mitchell smiled and took his wrist, dragged him back over before grabbing Annie's vest and pulling it up over her head. "Someone's got to keep you two warm," Mitchell said, resting one cold hand on each of their waists and leaving them both shivering. "And it isn't going to be me."
It was easier once they were in bed, hands finding the right places, legs and arms tangling in ways that made sense of a situation that shouldn't have been possible. George almost laughed against Annie's neck as he pushed into her from behind, and Mitchell's lips were wet from kissing and kissing and kissing, his fingers wet from sliding between Annie's legs to give her friction where George's cock couldn't.
George knew it was a step further than he had ever dared take before when he reached around Annie to grip Mitchell's cock and start stroking, but it was worth it for the groan Mitchell let out in response. George had rarely felt braver, and hid the resulting flush of embarrassment and pride as best as he could in Annie's shoulder, quickly found himself distracted by the inviting wet heat of her cunt.
Cold fingers closed over his around Mitchell's cock as George rested his head in the soft mass of Annie's curls, not anywhere near as annoyed by her hair straying between his lips when he moaned as he might have expected.
"You're so fucking beautiful," Mitchell said, accent soft and gorgeous, and George felt the hand around his on Mitchell's cock tighten, the second between Annie's legs rubbing against George's cock and her clit moving a little faster.
"Thanks," George replied, almost annoyed when he felt Annie's barely suppressed snigger vibrate through her. "Shut up!"
"I didn't say anything," Annie said, openly laughing now before her giggles turned into short, sharp gasps, the hot stretch of her cunt squeezing him hard as she came.
He didn't high-five Mitchell for their victory in bringing her to orgasm first, but when he lifted his head up to look at Mitchell he caught a wink of celebration. Mitchell also seemed very much aware of who was responsible for the hand on his cock, and smug with it too, propping his head up on one elbow so he could watch everything George did a little easier.
George wanted to hate him for it, but the humour in those dark eyes combined with Annie's heat was more than he could take; he came hard, biting down on Annie's shoulder, and felt Mitchell start to spurt slick and wet over his hand. Mitchell hadn't need a condom this time, but if Annie's state was going to last more than a few minutes he'd be using the last of the current pack - which was only fair, really, just like George knowing he would be the one responsible for running down to Boots to stock up.
"Thanks," Annie said as George threw the used condom away, her tone teasing but her touch affectionate when she turned slightly to kiss him on the cheek.
"Yeah, thanks," Mitchell added, winking again before taking Annie's place, kissing George once on the lips before returning his attention to Annie's mouth.
George couldn't say he was entirely surprised. He wasn't blind, he could see that Annie had a slight favourite out of the two of them, but he didn't resent it.
They made him feel at home. They made him feel wanted.
That was more than enough.
The Lines Are All Down - Supernatural, Michael/Raphael/Gabriel/Lucifer, falling, R
It started with Lucifer, of course. They all noticed when his hands started to ask questions and the taste of his mouth turned bitter. Everything had once been so smooth between them all, a dance of four who were all equally in love, a song for their divine quartet. Michael had tried to fight and fuck sense into him, Raphael had tried to soothe him with soft touches and caresses, and Gabriel had tried to distract him with laughter and games. Lucifer was the brightest of them all, and even as he tried to turn them against their father, they tried to draw him back in with their light and their love.
They failed and Lucifer fell, his blood staining the stairs of Heaven and his absence leaving all its halls a little dimmer.
The rumours of Lucifer's survival should have been glorious, but Michael's orders were clear - if anyone should find Lucifer, they were to prevent his return at any cost. Raphael had been made to heal, not to wound, but he stood at Michael's side with quiet grace, the weight of Michael's orders as heavy on his shoulders as anyone else's. Gabriel had loved his brother and asked for Lucifer's forgiveness, but their father was silent; Michael spoke in his place now, and no one dared question someone who'd had the strength and the cruelty to cast Lucifer out of Heaven.
Gabriel felt his questions silenced when Michael enveloped him and filled him, none of his motions as vicious as they had been with Lucifer, but their intent clear. Michael liked to have him as still as possible, not pinned down, but obedient in his service, and Gabriel did not speak a word further of complaint. Michael's intent had been tainted by anger and betrayal, even if his voice was still beautiful and pure.
Gabriel still loved all his brothers, despite everything.
Raphael was kinder, but would not allow the possibility of Michael being wrong or Lucifer being right. Raphael would not allow a word of discontent, kept Gabriel silent with kisses that were painful in their desperation to make things right. The love never left his fingertips, even when they shook as they brushed through Gabriel's wings; when Raphael took Gabriel inside himself, they still knew the rhythm and rhyme of each other as well as they ever had.
Love wasn't enough, not with so much anger and fear behind it, and Gabriel fled.
Raphael never fled. He never fell. He obeyed and he obeyed and he obeyed, he knelt for Michael and praised him with his hands and his tongue, took his brother in place of their absent father. All too many humans he inspired to heal demanded payment for their talents; all too many humans he inspired to bring peace were spoken over or slain for their defiance of the violent norm.
He had needed Lucifer and Gabriel, and after their disappearance he needed Michael three times as much as he once had when their harmonies were sweet and any discord swiftly discarded. Their song was a possessive and broken thing, and Michael pinned him down to ensure he would not leave just as he drew Michael in with his words and his thighs. Michael promised victory, promised that he would conquer their fallen brother and bring peace to Earth and to Heaven, promised that all this would end; Raphael loved him more for that than anything else he still had left to adore. The idea of an ending was such a distant and beautiful thought he could not help but cling to it.
When he felt Gabriel's grace again purely because it was being burned up at Lucifer's hands, Raphael clung to Michael and sobbed through verses that were empty and cold, refused to let him go.
But Michael did leave. Like Lucifer. Like Gabriel.
And he did not return.
When Castiel clicked his fingers, Raphael wondered in the split second between the sound reaching his ears and the tearing apart of his grace by power no angel was meant to command whether it was fear he felt, or relief.
ETA: And many, many, many thanks to moonlettuce, orbiting_saturn and morganoconner for the hearts. I love you guys <3!
Contractual Obligation - Good Omens/Supernatural, Aziraphale/Supernatural!Crowley, a bit sweet and a bit weird, PG13
Let Me In and Don't Let Go - Good Omens/Supernatural, primarily Aziraphale/Castiel but with background Aziraphale/Crowley and Castiel/Crowley by-proxy. GRACE PORN. NC17
And now, the remainder!
Let Go - Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, panties kink, NC17
Even if Lucifer had been locked away, even if Chuck had disappeared and the Croatoan threat been neutralised, the apocalypse Zachariah had once shown him still felt far too real for Dean's liking. He couldn't say it out loud, not when anyone else who knew about that apocalypse knew it had been averted and when they had so many genuine dangers to tackle, but he liked to make moves towards avoiding it however he could.
He hesitated before killing in a way he never had before - he didn't want to be that Dean, a Dean who could throw his friends away for one chance at finishing off the enemy. He kept his gun in anything but a holster. He'd even let his militaristic habits slip, exercising a little less, taking a little less care of his weapons, and the slight guilt of it was almost a pleasant distraction from his greater concerns.
More than anything, he didn't want his future self to be the only one who knew all his secrets. He couldn't tell all of them - had spent far too many years learning how to hide his feelings, his thoughts, his weaknesses - but letting some of them slip was enough.
Dean pulled Castiel on top of him, wondered how fucked up it was that he only trusted Castiel with this particular secret because he'd seen the angel wearing a little girl. Castiel didn't seem to judge him for it, didn't seem turned on or disgusted by the panties clinging to Dean's ass - red satin, Valentine's Day material, cheap and disposable and wasn't that just Dean's old sex life all over?
Castiel stared down at him with impassive blue eyes and Dean almost wished for those old days; it was simpler when he wasn't terrified that one day he would say the one thing, that one day Castiel would refuse to give him this.
He was hard enough the material was starting to bunch up at the front, damp where the head of his cock brushed against it, and Castiel's fingers were a gentle tease through the satin, grazing down the line of his erection to knead his balls.
"Fuck," Dean gasped, hooking his ankles around Castiel's shins, spreading himself wide. "Don't tease, Cas, I can't -"
Castiel nodded, wetting his fingers with lube before pulling the panties aside just enough to expose Dean's ass, pushing inside with minimal warning. Dean didn't even tense, too hung up on the feel of satin constricting his cock and his thighs, and he couldn't even wait as long as it took for Castiel to finish one thrust; the moment he felt Castiel push into him he came, shuddering, grinding and groaning at everything this meant. He was being fucked by an angel he couldn't help but trust, who he'd told one of his truly hidden secrets to; he was being fucked by an angel while wearing satin panties.
Castiel didn't mind his lack of response afterwards, and the ache of being fucked while limp was no hardship. Not when he was still reeling from coming, still gathering what little sense he had left.
He wouldn't say thank you. Revealing a secret didn't mean opening up.
"Take these with you," Dean ordered afterwards, peeling off the red satin scrap and wiping himself down with it before shoving it in the angel's hands.
Castiel's hands clutched tight around the material before he nodded, disappearing with a downward beat of wings Dean couldn't see but could feel, air cold on his sticky skin.
Castiel never bothered with goodbyes. Dean didn't honestly want him to.
Goodbyes might mean an ending.
We're Never Alone - Being Human (UK), George/Annie/Mitchell, temporarily human Annie, NC17
George didn't know how he had got this lucky or how long he'd be this lucky for, but he knew he didn't want to risk asking questions and wasting what time they had. After Annie's fingers rubbed at his ears, her grin bright and beautiful and solid, he'd kissed her with hardly a second thought before shoving her into Mitchell's arms and starting to strip off his layers.
Mitchell got with the program pretty quickly, and part of George couldn't help but think of course, vampire, sex is their thing, but he couldn't hold onto any feelings of jealousy long enough for them to count. Not when Annie was warm and touchable, and not when Mitchell kept staring at him hungrily in between kissing Annie hard.
He couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious when he pulled off his socks and realised he was the only one of them standing naked, Mitchell still fully clothed while Annie wore her vest and jeans, but if he could have trusted anyone to make him feel at home he should have trusted them. Mitchell smiled and took his wrist, dragged him back over before grabbing Annie's vest and pulling it up over her head. "Someone's got to keep you two warm," Mitchell said, resting one cold hand on each of their waists and leaving them both shivering. "And it isn't going to be me."
It was easier once they were in bed, hands finding the right places, legs and arms tangling in ways that made sense of a situation that shouldn't have been possible. George almost laughed against Annie's neck as he pushed into her from behind, and Mitchell's lips were wet from kissing and kissing and kissing, his fingers wet from sliding between Annie's legs to give her friction where George's cock couldn't.
George knew it was a step further than he had ever dared take before when he reached around Annie to grip Mitchell's cock and start stroking, but it was worth it for the groan Mitchell let out in response. George had rarely felt braver, and hid the resulting flush of embarrassment and pride as best as he could in Annie's shoulder, quickly found himself distracted by the inviting wet heat of her cunt.
Cold fingers closed over his around Mitchell's cock as George rested his head in the soft mass of Annie's curls, not anywhere near as annoyed by her hair straying between his lips when he moaned as he might have expected.
"You're so fucking beautiful," Mitchell said, accent soft and gorgeous, and George felt the hand around his on Mitchell's cock tighten, the second between Annie's legs rubbing against George's cock and her clit moving a little faster.
"Thanks," George replied, almost annoyed when he felt Annie's barely suppressed snigger vibrate through her. "Shut up!"
"I didn't say anything," Annie said, openly laughing now before her giggles turned into short, sharp gasps, the hot stretch of her cunt squeezing him hard as she came.
He didn't high-five Mitchell for their victory in bringing her to orgasm first, but when he lifted his head up to look at Mitchell he caught a wink of celebration. Mitchell also seemed very much aware of who was responsible for the hand on his cock, and smug with it too, propping his head up on one elbow so he could watch everything George did a little easier.
George wanted to hate him for it, but the humour in those dark eyes combined with Annie's heat was more than he could take; he came hard, biting down on Annie's shoulder, and felt Mitchell start to spurt slick and wet over his hand. Mitchell hadn't need a condom this time, but if Annie's state was going to last more than a few minutes he'd be using the last of the current pack - which was only fair, really, just like George knowing he would be the one responsible for running down to Boots to stock up.
"Thanks," Annie said as George threw the used condom away, her tone teasing but her touch affectionate when she turned slightly to kiss him on the cheek.
"Yeah, thanks," Mitchell added, winking again before taking Annie's place, kissing George once on the lips before returning his attention to Annie's mouth.
George couldn't say he was entirely surprised. He wasn't blind, he could see that Annie had a slight favourite out of the two of them, but he didn't resent it.
They made him feel at home. They made him feel wanted.
That was more than enough.
The Lines Are All Down - Supernatural, Michael/Raphael/Gabriel/Lucifer, falling, R
It started with Lucifer, of course. They all noticed when his hands started to ask questions and the taste of his mouth turned bitter. Everything had once been so smooth between them all, a dance of four who were all equally in love, a song for their divine quartet. Michael had tried to fight and fuck sense into him, Raphael had tried to soothe him with soft touches and caresses, and Gabriel had tried to distract him with laughter and games. Lucifer was the brightest of them all, and even as he tried to turn them against their father, they tried to draw him back in with their light and their love.
They failed and Lucifer fell, his blood staining the stairs of Heaven and his absence leaving all its halls a little dimmer.
The rumours of Lucifer's survival should have been glorious, but Michael's orders were clear - if anyone should find Lucifer, they were to prevent his return at any cost. Raphael had been made to heal, not to wound, but he stood at Michael's side with quiet grace, the weight of Michael's orders as heavy on his shoulders as anyone else's. Gabriel had loved his brother and asked for Lucifer's forgiveness, but their father was silent; Michael spoke in his place now, and no one dared question someone who'd had the strength and the cruelty to cast Lucifer out of Heaven.
Gabriel felt his questions silenced when Michael enveloped him and filled him, none of his motions as vicious as they had been with Lucifer, but their intent clear. Michael liked to have him as still as possible, not pinned down, but obedient in his service, and Gabriel did not speak a word further of complaint. Michael's intent had been tainted by anger and betrayal, even if his voice was still beautiful and pure.
Gabriel still loved all his brothers, despite everything.
Raphael was kinder, but would not allow the possibility of Michael being wrong or Lucifer being right. Raphael would not allow a word of discontent, kept Gabriel silent with kisses that were painful in their desperation to make things right. The love never left his fingertips, even when they shook as they brushed through Gabriel's wings; when Raphael took Gabriel inside himself, they still knew the rhythm and rhyme of each other as well as they ever had.
Love wasn't enough, not with so much anger and fear behind it, and Gabriel fled.
Raphael never fled. He never fell. He obeyed and he obeyed and he obeyed, he knelt for Michael and praised him with his hands and his tongue, took his brother in place of their absent father. All too many humans he inspired to heal demanded payment for their talents; all too many humans he inspired to bring peace were spoken over or slain for their defiance of the violent norm.
He had needed Lucifer and Gabriel, and after their disappearance he needed Michael three times as much as he once had when their harmonies were sweet and any discord swiftly discarded. Their song was a possessive and broken thing, and Michael pinned him down to ensure he would not leave just as he drew Michael in with his words and his thighs. Michael promised victory, promised that he would conquer their fallen brother and bring peace to Earth and to Heaven, promised that all this would end; Raphael loved him more for that than anything else he still had left to adore. The idea of an ending was such a distant and beautiful thought he could not help but cling to it.
When he felt Gabriel's grace again purely because it was being burned up at Lucifer's hands, Raphael clung to Michael and sobbed through verses that were empty and cold, refused to let him go.
But Michael did leave. Like Lucifer. Like Gabriel.
And he did not return.
When Castiel clicked his fingers, Raphael wondered in the split second between the sound reaching his ears and the tearing apart of his grace by power no angel was meant to command whether it was fear he felt, or relief.
ETA: And many, many, many thanks to moonlettuce, orbiting_saturn and morganoconner for the hearts. I love you guys <3!