Kinky Monday
So, I’m in one of those moods again so it’s time for another Kinky Monday (stolen shamelessly from tiptoe39).
No real rules. If I can't/won't write something, I'll just tell you. There may or may not be any sort of context. There will be porn. You'll get at least 100 words out of me.
If you want to leave more than one prompt, knock yourself out. I just ( Read more... )
Gabriel lies beneath him, arms looped around Dean’s neck loosely, even as his ankles hook together behind Dean’s hips. He’s lazy and languid, eyes half lidded as he moans softly, and if Dean didn’t know better he’d think Gabriel was just along for the ride. The archangel’s wings give him away though, straining and twitching with every sharp thrust of Dean’s hips, soft moans escaping his lips with every hard shove.
There’s a scrape of stubble against Dean’s shoulder, and Castiel hides his face to keep the low, rumbling chuckle from escaping him. Dean feels it more than hears it, but it’s more to keep Gabriel from tugging at Castiel’s feathers in annoyance at his wounded pride, Dean’s sure. There are unspoken words between the two of them, Castiel and Gabriel, words Dean can’t hear yet, but they’ve both promised him soon enough.
As soon as they’re done here, Dean will be one of them - figuratively speaking, but enough that it counts. He won’t be an angel, doesn’t want to be, but he’s still got a bright and shiny soul and Gabriel reckons that’s close enough for their purposes.
Curling his fingers tighter into Dean’s hips with one hand, Castiel skims his hand up Dean’s spine before he can push down on Dean’s shoulders, forcing him to drop to his elbows, cheek to cheek with Gabriel. Gabriel doesn’t seem to have a problem with the situation, licking his way into Dean’s mouth easily.
Dean would complain at being manhandled (because seriously, how hard would it be for Castiel or Gabriel just to ask once in a while) but the shift of angle is enough for Castiel to thrust harder, slipping deeper. “Oh, fuck, Cas,” Dean groans into Gabriel’s mouth. “Fuck.”
“What, I don’t get praise and adoration?” Gabriel asks, nuzzling against Dean’s cheek lightly. He’s more cheeky than spited, so when Dean curls his fingers into Gabriel’s feathers and tugs, it’s not nearly as hard as he could have done. “Nnngh.”
The reaction is enough to startle Dean, and he’d probably pause, but Castiel is still rocking into him determinedly, and it’s too much effort to stop. He lets go of Gabriel’s feathers, and the archangel’s expression is unreadable.
“He wants you to tug again,” Castiel groans. His fingers are starting to slip on Dean’s sweat slicked skin, and he curls his nails in tighter just to maintain his grip. Castiel is going to leave bruises, but there is a small, secret part of Dean that loves the idea of being marked by them too much to care. “He is too embarrassed to - ah - ask.”
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There is a moment of hesitation, and Dean can practically hear Castiel thinking as he tries to figure out how to acquiesce. He can’t lean forward without crushing Dean and subsequently, Gabriel, not that the archangel would really notice. He does curl one wing towards Gabriel’s hands, and his hips stutter forward in painful, sharp thrusts when Gabriel tugs.
“You guys are way too complicated,” Dean decides, groaning against Gabriel’s cheek. “Way, way too complicated.”
“Too late to turn back now,” Gabriel says. He tugs at Dean with his legs and his arm, arches his back as far off the bed as he can and his entire body goes taut. His fingers scramble desperately at Castiel’s wings, twisting and tugging the feathers, as he comes, clenching down impossibly tight around Dean and moaning wantonly. “Fuck.”
It’s a chain reaction, a series of dominos, after that. Dean comes with a strangled sound, fingers scrambling over Gabriel’s skin and in his feathers to tug and hold on, desperate to ground himself as the white wash of pleasure shoots through his system. It’s a struggle for Dean to catch his breath, but even more so for him to not outright collapse on Gabriel.
It takes another few moments for Castiel to come, his entire body trembling against Dean’s, and he does slump over when he’s spent, forcing the three of them down into a messy, sticky pile. “I’m sorry,” Castiel mutters against Dean’s shoulder, nuzzling into the sweaty skin.
“He’s really not,” Gabriel hums in response. His fingers are still tangled in Castiel’s feathers, and when he tugs at them experimentally, Castiel growls a warning, his chest vibrating against Dean’s back. “That was kind of awesome.”
“So,” Dean breathes out, “The soul bonding thing…” He tries to wiggle free, out from under Castiel, but Castiel seems content to stay where he is and Dean is forced to remain pinned. He gets the uncanny feeling he’s going to be pinned between these two a lot from now on.
“Nah, that’s something else,” Gabriel smiles. “This was just awesome sex.”
Dean feels like he should maybe feel spited or manipulated, but he’s too spent too care. That, and Gabriel was right. Sex with the two of them usually was pretty awesome.
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