Fic: Small Graces (SPN, 3/12) - 03. Thy Kingdom come
Author: girlupnorth
Title: Small Graces. 03. Thy Kingdom come
Pairings: Castiel/Ruby; OFC/OFC
Characters: Ruby, Castiel, archangels, demons, Sam Winchester, OFCs
Rating: NC-17
Contains: het porn, violence, Biblical references
Length: ~2,800 words
Spoilers: For the entire season 4. AU since after 4.10.
Dedicated to: novin_ha ♥
Author's notes: At long last.
Unfortunately, real life got into the way of posting, editing, and writing, but I'm (almost) out of the woods, and currently working on Chapter 12. The next part will be posted probably after July 7th.
For extended author's notes, check the Table of Contents.
Table of Contents :: 01 :: 02
SMALL GRACES
03. Thy Kingdom come
They change hotels, and towns, again; the new one’s probably the biggest they’ve been to. There may be some seals in here; there certainly are angels to meet. Castiel says they are making progress, and she wishes to God they could be making it faster. She is aware of the approaching end in almost all her waking moments; more, at night she lies sleepless, feeling the Hell’s breath on her back. The angel believes that the Apocalypse can and will be stopped; Ruby envies him that certainty.
They usually fuck in the mornings, before Castiel leaves to perform whatever angelic duties his superiors demand from him. She has the day to herself, and she tries to keep herself busy, but there isn’t much she can do, apart from watching TV and maybe going over some protective spells.
On the third day, she decides she needs to do some shopping: the hair isn’t going to get washed on water alone; she craves a nice body lotion and some chocolate.
She chooses a large supermarket, and is careful not to enter any empty aisles, for fear of having to confront another demonic - or angelic - entity. Nevertheless, in between the shelves with toothbrushes and those with soaps, she runs straight into Sam Winchester.
“Ruby,” he says, surprised at her sight. “What are you doing here?”
“Just passing through,” she says, and gestures to her basket. “Doing some shopping on the way. How’s things going?”
His aura is darker than when she’s last seen him, even though nothing in his physical appearance may suggest what kind of path he has chosen to fight demons. Ruby feels a brief pang of pity.
Just a while ago, she thought her best option was to do whatever it took to make the boy kill Lilith; she wanted her dead, in revenge, and in fear of further tortures at the hands of the bitch’s minions. Soon after, however, Lilith upped the ante, began to break the seals, and slipped beyond their reach. And then, of course, the angels entered the stage, and the sadistic bastard made sure Ruby had no time to think about killing Lilith.
“Not too well,” Sam says. “We fought some demons, a ghoul, a siren-“
Ruby smirks.
“But it’s all the seals, the seals, the seals now,” he finishes, clearly annoyed. “That’s all Dean talks about now. That, and the angels.”
“Well, it’s Apocalypse time. What did you expect?” she asks.
“I thought you’d be there to help me out,” Sam says, scowling. “I don’t get enough these days. Dean’s watching over my shoulder every time we fight a demon.”
“That’s interesting.”
“I think the angels put him up to it.”
The thought of Castiel knowing that she used to feed Sam Winchester her own blood brings on an unpleasant feeling in the pit of Ruby’s stomach.
“He’s always worried about you, isn’t he?” she offers lightly.
“Ruby, I’m serious. I need your help.”
For a split second, she considers the option. She does have the angel-killing blade on her; she could, technically, run away and hide from Castiel’s wrath. The world’s going to end in a few weeks at the most, and then nothing will matter anyway.
Before the thought has finished forming in her head, she realizes that it’s all an empty fantasy; she can no longer leave, and can no longer act against the angel’s orders. She sighs, and shakes her head.
“I’m sorry, I can’t take you any further,” she lies, looking Sam right in the eye. “I did all I could.”
He protests, and begs, and threatens her, of course; for the first time ever, she welcomes the sight of Dean Winchester, and uses the lamest excuse to disappear from the scene.
*
The young woman conversing with Sam Winchester feels like a false note in a perfectly composed melody, a misplaced motif in an otherwise immaculate sonata. She is a demon, of course; but her presence should be but a barely noticeable flaw on the tapestry of reality, not a head-turning phenomenon - and even if that, certainly not for an angel.
Neitel listens to them talking, pretending to be another customer searching for soap. She examines the tiny packages carefully, from time to time showing that or the other to one of her companions, drawing no attention from humans.
They have been designated to look over Sam Winchester following his exorcism on Alastair. The boy is too precious to be left to his own devices, they were told; his safety was to be their first priority. Even still, they have been instructed not to interfere; unless Sam’s life was in unavoidable danger, the Winchesters were to deal with it by themselves. Neitel found the order confusing, but approached it without any questions. These are dangerous times; if her superiors (she does not think the task came directly from God; it is too trivial) consider the boy a valuable asset, then so be it.
A few weeks later, she feels less certain about her mission. Sam Winchester is clearly dabbling in dark magic, and of a rather filthy kind. Her human body’s reaction to the sight of his drinking demon blood was to retch, and she really wished she was allowed to pour some fear of the Lord into the boy’s soul.
Her superiors tell her to have faith, and her companions on the mission - lower-ranking than her, all but one - seem less disturbed by the boy’s behaviour than she is. Neitel prays, doubtful of what tomorrow can bring.
The demon finishes conversation with Sam by declining to help him, and then walks away seconds after Dean Winchester appears. Neitel watches her go, her confusion only deepening.
“What do we do about her?” Sarfiel asks her.
Neitel frowns.
“Let me take care of it,” she says.
She follows the demon out of the supermarket, and then follows her into a bus.
After the first few moments of her looking at the woman, the distorted demonic features fade into background, and the human visage chosen by the demon appears rather pleasant to the eye. Before Neitel begins to feel sorry for the human host, she realizes that there is no soul occupying the body, only the demon. Still, this is not the source of the discord the woman causes in the fabric of the universe; the impression remains, though less striking than at first sight.
The demon alights a short walk from a hotel. Neitel renders herself invisible, and makes an attempt to follow her inside; however, she finds herself barred from entering the building. There are strong protective spells put around it, much too powerful to have been raised by the demon alone. Neitel senses that some of them bear traces of angelic power, and stops dead in her tracks.
She wishes she knew what to do next; after a short consideration, she decides that further investigation might be the best course of action. Certainly bringing the matter to her superiors will do her no good at this point in time.
Upon returning to her group, she keeps quiet about her discovery. The demon does not seem to wish Sam Winchester harm; Neitel remains faithful to her task.
*
The small suite is empty when Castiel comes back, and he finds the peace less accommodating than he might have expected. The repose is no longer in silence, it seems; it only brings uneasy thoughts and more questions than he knows answers to.
He sits down on the couch, first removing some pieces of Ruby’s clothing from its backrest. He feels worn out; a human reaction, from what he has observed, would be to resort to a drink, but alcohol probably would not make a slightest impression on an angel.
Earlier that day, Castiel has saved a young man in Copenhagen from breaking his spine on the cobblestones in front of the City Hall. The man might or might not be carrying a slightest amount of angelic blood in his veins, a remainder from when Castiel’s brothers fell for daughters of man, in the times obscured by darkness and only semi-real. More important was that his death at that time and place would have broken a seal; this Castiel has managed to prevent.
He then went back to the USA, to talk with Dean Winchester. The conversation has proven long and exhausting, even more so than the excursion to Copenhagen. Dean’s attitude towards the angels has not changed a iota, and he kept fluctuating between declining to take part in any Heaven-devised plan and demanding that the angels stopped “screwing around”, as he put it, and got to work.
He still has not moved from the couch when Ruby returns, bringing with her some bags filled with shopping and a surprisingly pleasant sense of disorder.
“Have you known that the Winchesters are in town?” she asks.
“I didn’t know beforehand that they would be here,” he says, watching Ruby take off her jacket and throw it over a chair. The sleeveless top she’s wearing exposes her collarbones and teases with just a suggestion of cleavage. “Why? Which of them have you met?”
“Sam, of course,” she says, and begins to unpack her bags, taking out bottles of cosmetics. Her dedication to provide her body with all worldly comforts imaginable makes him, at this point, only smile. Of all the sins he has seen the demons commit, this seems to him the least reprehensible; but then, of course, it is not without a personal interest that he absolves her here. He enjoys fucking her in the evening, straight out of the shower, her still damp hair saturated with the rich smell of a shampoo; and in the morning, barely awake, her skin hot from sleep, smelling echoes of soap behind her earlobe, or in the curve of her neck. He likes that body of hers, and is quietly grateful she is not possessing a living human.
“Come to me,” he says; Ruby looks up and smiles, and a moment later straddles his lap. He tangles his hand in soft, dark hair, and they kiss for a long while, withdrawing for a moment to catch a breath, and then pulling closer again with new force.
“Did you talk with him?” he asks finally, when Ruby, breathless, hides her face in his neck. She nods, and lays a small kiss on the underside of his ear; Castiel inhales sharply. “What about?”
“The end is nigh, and he’s had enough,” Ruby murmurs into his ear. “Also, he wanted my help.”
He pushes her away at that. Ruby raises her eyebrows, giving him an innocent look.
“What? I refused him,” she says, and leans forward to nuzzle his ear again. “Relax. I am a good demon now.”
She is not lying, he would know if she were; he is somewhat surprised to discover how relieved that makes him.
“Are you,” he says, sliding a hand under her skirt and running it up her thigh, before cupping her ass. Ruby gasps. “Tell me, would a good demon have bruises on her buttocks?”
She smiles wickedly. “She would, if she enjoyed having her ass bruised,” she says.
“Show them to me,” he demands.
Instead of moving from his lap, Ruby begins by taking off first the top, and then her bra, still smiling at Castiel.
“You like them, don’t you?” she whispers and runs her fingers over her soft nipples, leaning again towards him. Castiel’s body reacts immediately to that display, her defiance arousing him possibly even more than her sight itself. He cups her buttocks again, this time with both hands.
“Take off your clothes,” he tells her in a low voice, and Ruby rises gingerly, catching balance with some difficulty as she stands on the couch, still in her heels. She unzips the skirt and pushes it down her legs, offering him another smile; then she slides down her panties. Castiel lays his hands on her thighs and makes her kneel over his lap with her back turned to him.
The bruises are fading already, but there is still a tangled web of purple and brown lines and spots covering her buttocks; he traces them first with his fingers, and then with his tongue. Ruby lets out a quiet moan.
“I want you to touch your breasts,” he says, his fingers not leaving her ass. She is obedient this time; he watches her arms move, and listens to her breathing change. On reaching between her legs, he is not surprised to find her already wet; he strokes the wetness back between her buttocks, and then carefully slides his thumb up her ass, his two fingers entering her vagina at the same time.
“Don’t stop,” he says, as Ruby starts, gasping; he strokes her stomach with his free hand, before moving it lower to touch her clit. “Where is your cheek now, Ruby?” he asks, fucking her slowly with his fingers. Ruby moans, and then turns to look at him over her shoulder.
“Why, right down there, in your hands,” she says with wicked glee, moving her ass slightly. Castiel cannot but chuckle.
“Your lack of manners knows no bounds,” he says, and then, assuming a sterner tone, asks, “Or is it that you wish to offend me?”
With that, he withdraws his fingers, and pinches lightly her buttocks. Ruby makes a disappointed sound deep in her throat.
“I’d never… do anything… to offend you, Castiel,” she assures him, gasping softly as he massages her buttocks. “Oh. Oh. Please. Ooh.”
“Please what, Ruby?” he asks.
“Please, fuck me,” she replies, rubbing her ass against his hands. He pinches her again. “Oh. Please.”
He tells her to rise, and undresses himself swiftly. Then, putting a hand on her hip, he pulls her down onto his cock, entering her in one stroke. Ruby moans and spreads her legs out, making herself more comfortable.
“I never said you could - stop - touching your breasts,” he says, catching a breath in mid-sentence, as she begins to rock on top of him, each small motion sending sparks of pleasure throughout his body. He guides her movements with both his hands, one on her hip, the other reaching towards her clit, holding her firmly in place.
They move together for a while, and then Ruby begins to moan louder and louder, her gestures becoming more frantic by the second. She comes crying out his name, her legs trembling around him; he follows, clutching his fingers around her hip.
“I think I am a good demon,” she tells him, sitting in his lap again, and wrapping her naked arms and legs around him. “Wouldn’t you say?”
“You’re nowhere near good yet, Ruby,” he says, temporarily exhausted, laying a kiss on her collarbone. “But I will get you there in due time.”
She sighs, and holds close to Castiel for a good while, as he gently strokes her back. Then she gets up, and, with a smile, puts her clothes back on and returns to unpacking her bags.
*
The phone rings at four in the morning; she opens her eyes reluctantly, checks caller ID, and then carefully disentangles herself from her lover’s arms, and slips out to the bathroom.
The conversation is short and to the point, though she learns nothing she hasn’t already known. She stands for a minute in the darkness, and then resolves to consider her options in the morning, when she is fully awake.
When she goes back to the room, her lover has woken up, and is sitting on the bed, wrapped in the cover, and yawning.
“Who’s calling you in the middle of the night?” she asks, sleepily.
“My family,” she says, walking to the bed, and sliding back under the cover.
The fake driver’s licence in her wallet claims her name is Abree; as far as names go, she quite enjoys that one. Her lover introduces herself as Sarah. It is, again, nowhere near the truth, but she does not particularly care; she remembers Sarai, and although the woman has not been a favourite of hers, she does not bring unpleasant associations to mind.
“Again?” Sarah asks, embracing her closely. “I’ve known you for almost two years, and they never called, and now, what, twice in a week?”
“Mmm,” Abree says, stroking her arms. “My older brother’s causing trouble.”
“Oh.” Sarah pauses. “Do you need any help? Is that serious?”
“Nothing we can’t deal with, hopefully,” she says, and kisses Sarah gently. “Go to sleep, darling. There’s a long journey ahead of us tomorrow.”
Sarah murmurs something by way of protest, but she seems too sleepy to argue. Abree lies still for a while, listening to her lover’s breathing, and then falls asleep as well.
Title: Small Graces. 03. Thy Kingdom come
Pairings: Castiel/Ruby; OFC/OFC
Characters: Ruby, Castiel, archangels, demons, Sam Winchester, OFCs
Rating: NC-17
Contains: het porn, violence, Biblical references
Length: ~2,800 words
Spoilers: For the entire season 4. AU since after 4.10.
Dedicated to: novin_ha ♥
Author's notes: At long last.
Unfortunately, real life got into the way of posting, editing, and writing, but I'm (almost) out of the woods, and currently working on Chapter 12. The next part will be posted probably after July 7th.
For extended author's notes, check the Table of Contents.
Table of Contents :: 01 :: 02
SMALL GRACES
03. Thy Kingdom come
They change hotels, and towns, again; the new one’s probably the biggest they’ve been to. There may be some seals in here; there certainly are angels to meet. Castiel says they are making progress, and she wishes to God they could be making it faster. She is aware of the approaching end in almost all her waking moments; more, at night she lies sleepless, feeling the Hell’s breath on her back. The angel believes that the Apocalypse can and will be stopped; Ruby envies him that certainty.
They usually fuck in the mornings, before Castiel leaves to perform whatever angelic duties his superiors demand from him. She has the day to herself, and she tries to keep herself busy, but there isn’t much she can do, apart from watching TV and maybe going over some protective spells.
On the third day, she decides she needs to do some shopping: the hair isn’t going to get washed on water alone; she craves a nice body lotion and some chocolate.
She chooses a large supermarket, and is careful not to enter any empty aisles, for fear of having to confront another demonic - or angelic - entity. Nevertheless, in between the shelves with toothbrushes and those with soaps, she runs straight into Sam Winchester.
“Ruby,” he says, surprised at her sight. “What are you doing here?”
“Just passing through,” she says, and gestures to her basket. “Doing some shopping on the way. How’s things going?”
His aura is darker than when she’s last seen him, even though nothing in his physical appearance may suggest what kind of path he has chosen to fight demons. Ruby feels a brief pang of pity.
Just a while ago, she thought her best option was to do whatever it took to make the boy kill Lilith; she wanted her dead, in revenge, and in fear of further tortures at the hands of the bitch’s minions. Soon after, however, Lilith upped the ante, began to break the seals, and slipped beyond their reach. And then, of course, the angels entered the stage, and the sadistic bastard made sure Ruby had no time to think about killing Lilith.
“Not too well,” Sam says. “We fought some demons, a ghoul, a siren-“
Ruby smirks.
“But it’s all the seals, the seals, the seals now,” he finishes, clearly annoyed. “That’s all Dean talks about now. That, and the angels.”
“Well, it’s Apocalypse time. What did you expect?” she asks.
“I thought you’d be there to help me out,” Sam says, scowling. “I don’t get enough these days. Dean’s watching over my shoulder every time we fight a demon.”
“That’s interesting.”
“I think the angels put him up to it.”
The thought of Castiel knowing that she used to feed Sam Winchester her own blood brings on an unpleasant feeling in the pit of Ruby’s stomach.
“He’s always worried about you, isn’t he?” she offers lightly.
“Ruby, I’m serious. I need your help.”
For a split second, she considers the option. She does have the angel-killing blade on her; she could, technically, run away and hide from Castiel’s wrath. The world’s going to end in a few weeks at the most, and then nothing will matter anyway.
Before the thought has finished forming in her head, she realizes that it’s all an empty fantasy; she can no longer leave, and can no longer act against the angel’s orders. She sighs, and shakes her head.
“I’m sorry, I can’t take you any further,” she lies, looking Sam right in the eye. “I did all I could.”
He protests, and begs, and threatens her, of course; for the first time ever, she welcomes the sight of Dean Winchester, and uses the lamest excuse to disappear from the scene.
*
The young woman conversing with Sam Winchester feels like a false note in a perfectly composed melody, a misplaced motif in an otherwise immaculate sonata. She is a demon, of course; but her presence should be but a barely noticeable flaw on the tapestry of reality, not a head-turning phenomenon - and even if that, certainly not for an angel.
Neitel listens to them talking, pretending to be another customer searching for soap. She examines the tiny packages carefully, from time to time showing that or the other to one of her companions, drawing no attention from humans.
They have been designated to look over Sam Winchester following his exorcism on Alastair. The boy is too precious to be left to his own devices, they were told; his safety was to be their first priority. Even still, they have been instructed not to interfere; unless Sam’s life was in unavoidable danger, the Winchesters were to deal with it by themselves. Neitel found the order confusing, but approached it without any questions. These are dangerous times; if her superiors (she does not think the task came directly from God; it is too trivial) consider the boy a valuable asset, then so be it.
A few weeks later, she feels less certain about her mission. Sam Winchester is clearly dabbling in dark magic, and of a rather filthy kind. Her human body’s reaction to the sight of his drinking demon blood was to retch, and she really wished she was allowed to pour some fear of the Lord into the boy’s soul.
Her superiors tell her to have faith, and her companions on the mission - lower-ranking than her, all but one - seem less disturbed by the boy’s behaviour than she is. Neitel prays, doubtful of what tomorrow can bring.
The demon finishes conversation with Sam by declining to help him, and then walks away seconds after Dean Winchester appears. Neitel watches her go, her confusion only deepening.
“What do we do about her?” Sarfiel asks her.
Neitel frowns.
“Let me take care of it,” she says.
She follows the demon out of the supermarket, and then follows her into a bus.
After the first few moments of her looking at the woman, the distorted demonic features fade into background, and the human visage chosen by the demon appears rather pleasant to the eye. Before Neitel begins to feel sorry for the human host, she realizes that there is no soul occupying the body, only the demon. Still, this is not the source of the discord the woman causes in the fabric of the universe; the impression remains, though less striking than at first sight.
The demon alights a short walk from a hotel. Neitel renders herself invisible, and makes an attempt to follow her inside; however, she finds herself barred from entering the building. There are strong protective spells put around it, much too powerful to have been raised by the demon alone. Neitel senses that some of them bear traces of angelic power, and stops dead in her tracks.
She wishes she knew what to do next; after a short consideration, she decides that further investigation might be the best course of action. Certainly bringing the matter to her superiors will do her no good at this point in time.
Upon returning to her group, she keeps quiet about her discovery. The demon does not seem to wish Sam Winchester harm; Neitel remains faithful to her task.
*
The small suite is empty when Castiel comes back, and he finds the peace less accommodating than he might have expected. The repose is no longer in silence, it seems; it only brings uneasy thoughts and more questions than he knows answers to.
He sits down on the couch, first removing some pieces of Ruby’s clothing from its backrest. He feels worn out; a human reaction, from what he has observed, would be to resort to a drink, but alcohol probably would not make a slightest impression on an angel.
Earlier that day, Castiel has saved a young man in Copenhagen from breaking his spine on the cobblestones in front of the City Hall. The man might or might not be carrying a slightest amount of angelic blood in his veins, a remainder from when Castiel’s brothers fell for daughters of man, in the times obscured by darkness and only semi-real. More important was that his death at that time and place would have broken a seal; this Castiel has managed to prevent.
He then went back to the USA, to talk with Dean Winchester. The conversation has proven long and exhausting, even more so than the excursion to Copenhagen. Dean’s attitude towards the angels has not changed a iota, and he kept fluctuating between declining to take part in any Heaven-devised plan and demanding that the angels stopped “screwing around”, as he put it, and got to work.
He still has not moved from the couch when Ruby returns, bringing with her some bags filled with shopping and a surprisingly pleasant sense of disorder.
“Have you known that the Winchesters are in town?” she asks.
“I didn’t know beforehand that they would be here,” he says, watching Ruby take off her jacket and throw it over a chair. The sleeveless top she’s wearing exposes her collarbones and teases with just a suggestion of cleavage. “Why? Which of them have you met?”
“Sam, of course,” she says, and begins to unpack her bags, taking out bottles of cosmetics. Her dedication to provide her body with all worldly comforts imaginable makes him, at this point, only smile. Of all the sins he has seen the demons commit, this seems to him the least reprehensible; but then, of course, it is not without a personal interest that he absolves her here. He enjoys fucking her in the evening, straight out of the shower, her still damp hair saturated with the rich smell of a shampoo; and in the morning, barely awake, her skin hot from sleep, smelling echoes of soap behind her earlobe, or in the curve of her neck. He likes that body of hers, and is quietly grateful she is not possessing a living human.
“Come to me,” he says; Ruby looks up and smiles, and a moment later straddles his lap. He tangles his hand in soft, dark hair, and they kiss for a long while, withdrawing for a moment to catch a breath, and then pulling closer again with new force.
“Did you talk with him?” he asks finally, when Ruby, breathless, hides her face in his neck. She nods, and lays a small kiss on the underside of his ear; Castiel inhales sharply. “What about?”
“The end is nigh, and he’s had enough,” Ruby murmurs into his ear. “Also, he wanted my help.”
He pushes her away at that. Ruby raises her eyebrows, giving him an innocent look.
“What? I refused him,” she says, and leans forward to nuzzle his ear again. “Relax. I am a good demon now.”
She is not lying, he would know if she were; he is somewhat surprised to discover how relieved that makes him.
“Are you,” he says, sliding a hand under her skirt and running it up her thigh, before cupping her ass. Ruby gasps. “Tell me, would a good demon have bruises on her buttocks?”
She smiles wickedly. “She would, if she enjoyed having her ass bruised,” she says.
“Show them to me,” he demands.
Instead of moving from his lap, Ruby begins by taking off first the top, and then her bra, still smiling at Castiel.
“You like them, don’t you?” she whispers and runs her fingers over her soft nipples, leaning again towards him. Castiel’s body reacts immediately to that display, her defiance arousing him possibly even more than her sight itself. He cups her buttocks again, this time with both hands.
“Take off your clothes,” he tells her in a low voice, and Ruby rises gingerly, catching balance with some difficulty as she stands on the couch, still in her heels. She unzips the skirt and pushes it down her legs, offering him another smile; then she slides down her panties. Castiel lays his hands on her thighs and makes her kneel over his lap with her back turned to him.
The bruises are fading already, but there is still a tangled web of purple and brown lines and spots covering her buttocks; he traces them first with his fingers, and then with his tongue. Ruby lets out a quiet moan.
“I want you to touch your breasts,” he says, his fingers not leaving her ass. She is obedient this time; he watches her arms move, and listens to her breathing change. On reaching between her legs, he is not surprised to find her already wet; he strokes the wetness back between her buttocks, and then carefully slides his thumb up her ass, his two fingers entering her vagina at the same time.
“Don’t stop,” he says, as Ruby starts, gasping; he strokes her stomach with his free hand, before moving it lower to touch her clit. “Where is your cheek now, Ruby?” he asks, fucking her slowly with his fingers. Ruby moans, and then turns to look at him over her shoulder.
“Why, right down there, in your hands,” she says with wicked glee, moving her ass slightly. Castiel cannot but chuckle.
“Your lack of manners knows no bounds,” he says, and then, assuming a sterner tone, asks, “Or is it that you wish to offend me?”
With that, he withdraws his fingers, and pinches lightly her buttocks. Ruby makes a disappointed sound deep in her throat.
“I’d never… do anything… to offend you, Castiel,” she assures him, gasping softly as he massages her buttocks. “Oh. Oh. Please. Ooh.”
“Please what, Ruby?” he asks.
“Please, fuck me,” she replies, rubbing her ass against his hands. He pinches her again. “Oh. Please.”
He tells her to rise, and undresses himself swiftly. Then, putting a hand on her hip, he pulls her down onto his cock, entering her in one stroke. Ruby moans and spreads her legs out, making herself more comfortable.
“I never said you could - stop - touching your breasts,” he says, catching a breath in mid-sentence, as she begins to rock on top of him, each small motion sending sparks of pleasure throughout his body. He guides her movements with both his hands, one on her hip, the other reaching towards her clit, holding her firmly in place.
They move together for a while, and then Ruby begins to moan louder and louder, her gestures becoming more frantic by the second. She comes crying out his name, her legs trembling around him; he follows, clutching his fingers around her hip.
“I think I am a good demon,” she tells him, sitting in his lap again, and wrapping her naked arms and legs around him. “Wouldn’t you say?”
“You’re nowhere near good yet, Ruby,” he says, temporarily exhausted, laying a kiss on her collarbone. “But I will get you there in due time.”
She sighs, and holds close to Castiel for a good while, as he gently strokes her back. Then she gets up, and, with a smile, puts her clothes back on and returns to unpacking her bags.
*
The phone rings at four in the morning; she opens her eyes reluctantly, checks caller ID, and then carefully disentangles herself from her lover’s arms, and slips out to the bathroom.
The conversation is short and to the point, though she learns nothing she hasn’t already known. She stands for a minute in the darkness, and then resolves to consider her options in the morning, when she is fully awake.
When she goes back to the room, her lover has woken up, and is sitting on the bed, wrapped in the cover, and yawning.
“Who’s calling you in the middle of the night?” she asks, sleepily.
“My family,” she says, walking to the bed, and sliding back under the cover.
The fake driver’s licence in her wallet claims her name is Abree; as far as names go, she quite enjoys that one. Her lover introduces herself as Sarah. It is, again, nowhere near the truth, but she does not particularly care; she remembers Sarai, and although the woman has not been a favourite of hers, she does not bring unpleasant associations to mind.
“Again?” Sarah asks, embracing her closely. “I’ve known you for almost two years, and they never called, and now, what, twice in a week?”
“Mmm,” Abree says, stroking her arms. “My older brother’s causing trouble.”
“Oh.” Sarah pauses. “Do you need any help? Is that serious?”
“Nothing we can’t deal with, hopefully,” she says, and kisses Sarah gently. “Go to sleep, darling. There’s a long journey ahead of us tomorrow.”
Sarah murmurs something by way of protest, but she seems too sleepy to argue. Abree lies still for a while, listening to her lover’s breathing, and then falls asleep as well.