Vee

"Cas" you spoke up with a sigh to which he stood abruptly, hands awkwardly by his sides, "... I've been looking for you" he replied, no emotion on his face despite the very obscene position the two people on screen were in.

you shook your head choosing to walk away, "sure you have, you've certainly been looking in the wrong place" you muttered while he scrambled after you, "i have a question"

you glanced over your shoulder, "about what Cas?" you responded, already preparing for whatever this man was about to utter.

"it's about the female anatomy"

you stopped in your steps and turned around to face him, "...yes?" you questioned, narrowing your eyes.

he cleared his throat, glancing down before meeting your eyes, "in that video, the pizza man was touching her and it appeared that this liquid shot out of her. Is that possible?" he inquired.

it took you a second, once again, to process his words. when you did, you flushed, heat rushing through your face. your throat suddenly felt dry as you stumbled over an answer, "you mean squirting?" you blurted.

his brows furrowed and tilted his head in that puppy like innocence he always had, "is that what you call it?" he contemplated this for a minute while you stood there, heart racing.

he then stepped forward into your space causing you to tense at the proximity. the intensity of his gaze caused heat to pool low in your belly, "so it wasn't fabricated?" his voice was low.

you once again gaped, trying to look anywhere but his dark stare, "i- i mean most of the porn is laid on thick for views but it is a real thing yes" you stammered, eyes wide as the musky scent of him filled your nostrils.

suddenly his eyes narrowed and you watched as he angled his head down and sniffed. your heart dropped in horror.

"your arousal..." he murmured, eyes glancing towards your parted lips, "i can smell it" he inhaled again.

his gaze darkened as you froze, mortified simultaneously feeling the slick gathering in your panties. his hands came up, settling on your hips and gently pushed you back against the wall causing you to let out a small gasp. the lust haze filling your brain almost let a moan slip at the contact of his big strong hands man handling you.

"i would like to try, if that's alright" he suggested, voice low with his own seduction.

the suggestion took you by complete surprise and you could only stare, baffled.

"I'm going to need your words sweet girl" he prompted, husky with a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

the shaky exhale and the tiny nod you gave him was all permission he needed before he took you by the waist and roughly guided to your bedroom. your heart raced with anticipation, a thrill shivered down your spine.

there was a flutter in your stomach as he closed the door behind him, click. he locked it and turned back to you. he approached slowly, that angel like innocence being replaced by a predatory hunger in his eyes.

you tensed again when he stopped in front of you, a low chuckle rumbled in his chest, "easy," he soothed and buried his nose in your neck, inhaling again.

he captured your lips in a kiss, hand cupping your cheeks as his thumbs rubbed coaxing circles before he gently laid you down on the bed so that your lower half was hanging off. you couldn't help the small whine that escaped when he kneeled in front of you.

god he looked divine, lidded eyes staring up at you dark and ravenous. hair that was going to be tousled soon no doubt as you needed something to hold onto. lips plump and swollen from the kiss. his warm hands stroked up your thighs, gripping them tightly and pulled you closer.

"what are your limitations?" he suddenly asked.

you blinked at him, "... what?"

"how many rounds can you handle?" he clarified.

you swallowed thickly, "yes" you answered without thought.

a humourous huff escaped him, "words baby"

"I don't mind" you replied more sure of yourself. he nodded, pleased with the answer and tugged your pants down in a smooth motion.

you startled slightly. you had forgotten for a moment how strong angels are. you didn't get a chance to react as he suddenly spread your thighs and buried his nose against your covered pussy, inhaling again, a low groan escaping him. his lips brushed the wet spot gathered there.

your head tilted back, lips parting, "Cas...please"

god, the need was too much. the ache in your cunt was begging to be relieved. he pulled back, the juices that had soaked through causing strings of slick to stretch from his lips. you moaned at the sight, one hand coming up to tug at his hair.

his hands tightened on your upper thighs at the sound of your moan, eyes flickering up briefly before tugging down your panties. wordlessly he stuffed them into the pocket of his trench coat. you watch as he positioned your legs over his shoulders and paused at the sight of your glistening pussy, as swollen and pink.

"already so wet" he remarked with reverence watching as slick pooled onto the sheets below.

without warning he swiped his tongue through your folds up towards your clit. you gasped in pleasure, falling back into the sheets in bliss. he pulled back momentarily with a groan of your name, "you taste divine" he said, awe filling his eyes.

he dove back in like a man starved, slurping up your juices obscenely while white hot pleasure weakened you, squirming beneath his hold. you cried out, "Cass...god" you breathed.

the rumble he let out sent vibrations through you, "god wouldn't be able to make you feel this way sweetheart" he teased before his lips wrapped around your clit and sucked.

you cry out again, the pleasure already building in your belly. your hands tangled in his hair, holding him in place as you whine.

you came suddenly with a loud call of his name. he made a low pleased sound in the back of his throat, tongue not slowing down as he coaxed you through it. you didn't get a chance to catch your breath as he slid two fingers into your sopping hole without warning. thick, filling you up so good.

you whimpered at the intrusion, only able to voice barley coherent words as he pumped them, lips working in unison as he continued to swirl your clit. the other hand splayed across your stomach, keeping you in place.

you came again, cum coating his chin as he hummed, "that's it" he murmured against your puffy clit. by this point your eyes were teary from overwhelm as his fingers hit that sweet spot inside of you. you clenched around him and he sucked a breath through his teeth at the feeling of your gummy walls squeezing his fingers.

he added a third finger, stretching you out. you writhed beneath him, "please...Cass please" you pleaded, for what you didn't know. you just knew you needed more.

his teeth grazed your sensitive bud and you flinched, back arching at the strange sensation causing his hand to knead your belly in response, soothing. he pulled back briefly, face flushed and his tongue darted out to flick your clit. kitten licks as he looked up at you, watching as your face scrunched in pleasure while you gushed around him.

wet obscene sounds filled the room, squelches which seemed to redden his cheeks as his eyes watched your expressions with fascination.

the coil in your belly snapped again, your vision going white and his lips wrapped around you again, sucking harshly. you're crying at this point, squirming helplessly against him with pleading.

"Cass... too much" you gasped but he knew you didn't really mean it.

his lips quirked again when your thighs squeezed around his head, tears streaming down your face and reduced to a babbling mess. he added a fourth finger and you moaned loudly at the stretch.

another strange pressure built in your belly and you tried to push him away, "Cass wait" you gasped but he didn't let up, this only encouraged him as his eyes lit up.

his lips sucked roughly, his fingers speeding up angling his wrists to hit your spot deeper, more relentlessly. your mouth fell open in a guttural whine and he blushed.

then the pressure snapped. for a moment you couldn't hear anything, couldn't see anything as white clouded your vision. an unbearable climax as a clear white liquid forcing his fingers out, coating his chin, neck and chest while he watched with a grin, eyes wide with captivation.

your hands, tight in his hair finally loosened as you struggled to catch your breath. he slowly stood, lowering your sore thighs gently and you whined. he shushed you softly, leaning over and cupping your cheeks, "you were amazing" he praised causing you to giggle helplessly.

"next time we'll test how many times i can make you squirt"

your eyes widened, your heart skipping a beat in thrill and chuckled nervously while he stroked your cheeks, staring down with adoration.

Castiel had seen many, many things in his endless lifetime.

He’d seen the stars light up one by one, the seas part to make space for land, sunlight touching the Earth and humans taking their first steps.

He witnessed kingdoms rise triumphant only to crumble into dust centuries later, he watched cities fight wars in the name of Heaven and others in the name of Hell, he stood beneath constellations before mankind had even given them names, heard the first songs ever sung and listened to the final breaths of souls alike.

He’d seen beauty beyond mortal comprehension.

The shimmering auroras dancing over frozen landscapes untouched by civilization and its contaminating fumes, the quiet majesty of galaxies blooming in the endless dark, new life made from nothing but divine will.

He’d also seen horrors no human mind was meant to carry– but that was a story for another time.

And yet nothing– not Heaven's armies, not the birth of creation itself, not any wonder he’d witnessed over millennia… Nothing could have prepared him for the sight before him.

You.

Bathed in the soft glow of your bedroom light, dressed in delicate blue that mirrored the color of his eyes– the same pale blue that shone beneath his skin whenever he used his grace. The fabric hugged your body like it had been crafted by the hands of Aphrodite herself, every lace detail beautifully placed against the expanses of skin.

For the first time in eons, Castiel found himself at a complete loss for words. Beautiful was no longer a sufficient word– he often came to the realization that the word had always been too small for you.

His gaze lingered– not out of impropriety, but because he simply couldn't look away. For centuries, observation had been second nature to him. Angels were made to witness, to record, to remember.

But this? This was different.

His vessel didn't require oxygen, yet he found himself taking a deep inhale nonetheless. Something warm fluttered under his ribs, spreading through him in a way he would’ve struggled to define outloud– Dean would've probably called it being whipped, but Sam probably could offer a far more eloquent explanation. Castiel simply knew that you were looking at him with uncertain eyes, your fingers nervously smoothing the delicate fabric over your hips and all he could think was how tragically unaware you seemed of your own beauty.

"You're awfully quiet, angel" You murmured, a nervous laugh escaping your lips as you looked down at yourself. "Is it too much?"

Your question finally pulled him from his thoughts. His brow furrowed into a frown, confusion flickering across his features as he tilted his head in that deeply bewildered holy-puppy way of his. "Too much?"

"The lingerie" You gestured vaguely to yourself, suddenly unable to meet your boyfriend’s eyes despite what felt like an eternity of staring at each other. "I just... thought I'd surprise you"

His heart (that curious, stubborn thing he'd once insisted angels didn’t possess like humans did) suddenly squeezed in ache. "You have surprised me" The words left him almost reverently, raspy and low like he always talked. "I simply..." His voice faltered, another rarity for the usually stoic angel. "I don't believe there is a language, human or not… capable of accurately describing how beautiful you are"

A faint flush spread across your cheeks, face heating in embarrassed flusteredness. "You always say things like that"

He frowns once more, almost offended by the implication. "Only when they're true" The angel adds, eyes drifting over the blue lace once more before settling on your face– because despite everything, it was your smile that undid him the most. "The color suits you" He said quietly– unawarely reminding you how lucky you were to have a lover like him. Most men would’ve focused on how your tits looked or how fast they could tear the lace from your body… Not him though, he focused on you.  "Though I suspect you would look just as beautiful in any other color you chose"

Your heart softened at the quiet certainty in his voice. It wasn't a line, wasn't practiced or aimed to get into your pants– Castiel had never flattered for the sake of flattering. Every word he spoke, he believed wholeheartedly. "You really think so?" You asked, almost shyly. No matter how big you could make yourself in the outside world or hunting– the moment your lover looked at you like this, with all his intense admiration, your whole demeanor melted away.

His brow knitted together again, as though the question itself puzzled him. "I know so"

The angel took a tentative step toward you, careful in the way he always was whenever he feared crossing an invisible line. (As if he could ever make you uncomfortable) Even after everything you'd shared, Castiel never assumed what you might be comfortable with, never assumed he was entitled to your space. "May I?" His hand hovered just inches from your waist, waiting.

You answered by closing the remaining distance yourself. The corners of his mouth lifted into that small, impossibly soft smile reserved only for you. His fingertips brushed against the lace at your hip with astonishing care, as though he were touching something fragile enough to disappear beneath his hands. He wasn't admiring the fabric so much as he was admiring the way it looked on you. "It feels..." He searched for the right word, thumb absentmindedly tracing one of the embroidered patterns. "Delicate"

"It is" You can’t help but chuckle softly, fond at his reverence.

"I understand why humans enjoy beautiful things"

You laughed again, the sound easing some of the nervousness still stubbornly coiled inside your chest. "I think you're supposed to say I look beautiful, angel"

His blue eyes met yours immediately, a hint of confused panic to the look. "I thought that was already established"

Another smile escaped you before you could stop it. "Y’know–" You teased softly, resting your hands against the lapels of his trench coat. " –most boyfriends would've had a much stronger reaction by now"

"I am having a strong reaction" He retorts, head tilting to the side, confused as ever.

"You are?"

"Yes" His expression remained utterly earnest. "I simply don't believe ripping the clothing from your body would properly express my appreciation"

The laugh that burst from your lips filled the room, warm and honest. "You've been spending too much time with Dean" The way he’d spoken about ripping the lingerie from your body was one hundred percent learnt from your hunter friend.

"He did suggest that would be the appropriate response"

"And you're not taking his advice?" You chuckle softly, one hand gently running through the dark strands of his hair.

Castiel looked at you as though the answer were obvious, though he also melted into your touch, eyes briefly fluttering closed before focusing back on your face. "No" His hand came up to cradle your cheek, thumb stroking gentle circles across the skin. "I would rather admire you for a while longer if you’ll let me"

There was no hesitation in his voice– only devotion.

you should arrest him on principle. still, the laugh bursts out of you before you can stop it. “you impersonated law enforcement, obstructed an active investigation, trespassed onto private property, and dragged me into the middle of a cannibal family nightmare without so much as a safety briefing.” you tilt your head. “so no, dean. you have not been a good boy.”

his mouth curves anyway. “yeah, but i did save your ass.”

“you assisted.”

“assisted,” he repeats, offended. “wow.”

“don’t pout. it’s unbecoming.”

“i don’t pout.”

“you’re doing it right now.” that gets him. a quiet huff of laughter leaves his lips, warm and unwilling.

he shifts closer, knee brushing yours, and the air in the car thickens. his hand finds your waist, thumb pressing just under the hem of your shirt. you want to push him away for the lies, for the danger that clings to him. you want him closer. both feelings tangle so tight it’s hard to breathe.

“careful,” you murmur, and it sounds weak even to your own ears.

his thumb presses once beneath the hem of your shirt. “always am.”

“that is the least convincing thing you’ve said all night.”

he leans in slow, giving you time to stop him. that’s the annoying part. the decent part. the part that makes it harder to stay angry, because he’s arrogant, reckless, allergic to the truth, and still somehow waiting for permission with his mouth an inch from your skin. you don’t stop him.

his lips find the side of your neck, hot and open, and your fingers curl against the seat. teeth graze just under your jaw, followed by the slow drag of his tongue, and your breath comes out quieter than you mean it to. “dean—”

“shh. just sayin’ thanks.” another kiss, wetter, right below your ear.

“that’s not how that works.”

“depends who’s sayin’ it.”

you turn your head then, catching his mouth before he can make another smug comment. your fingers fist in his flannel. heat pools low in your belly. the kiss turns filthy quick. his mouth claims yours, tongue sliding deep, tasting like cheap whiskey. dean groans when your hand slides into his hair and pulls. the sound goes straight through you. his grip tightens at your waist, but you’re the one who moves first, throwing one leg over his lap in the cramped backseat, settling your weight against him with enough purpose to wipe that lazy grin off his face.

his hands go to your hips. “well, damn—”

“talk less.”

“yes, ma’am.”

the car’s cramped, windows fogging already, but it doesn’t matter. you kiss him again, rougher this time, and feel him hard beneath you through his jeans. he’s thick, already pressing up against you. not nervous. not uncertain. just want, plain and inconvenient. his hands are everywhere—under your shirt, cupping your tits, thumbs circling your nipples until they tighten into aching peaks.

“fuck, these are perfect,” he murmurs against your lips, breaking just enough to yank your shirt up. his mouth closes over one nipple, hot and greedy, sucking hard while his hand kneads the other. you arch into it, a broken sound escaping you. he hums in approval, the vibration shooting straight between your legs. “that’s it, sweetheart. let me hear you.”

you’re grinding against the thick ridge in his jeans before you realize it. he hums against your skin. smug bastard. you grind down harder, and his smugness cracks into a groan. you do it again, slower this time, watching his jaw clench as pleasure pulls the control right out of his face.

“still feeling grateful?” you tease.

his laugh comes out rough. “you have no idea.”

“then show me.”

dean groans when you reach down to palm him through the denim. “yeah? you want that?”

“shut up and fuck me.”

that does it. his wallet comes out fast. condom between his fingers. jeans shoved down just enough because the backseat gives neither of you space nor dignity, and honestly, that feels about right for him. your pants are worked down one leg, underwear following, your boot catching briefly against the seat until you curse and dean laughs under his breath.

“not a word,” you warn.

“wouldn’t dare.”

“you’re smiling.”

“i’m happy to be alive.”

“you’re happy to be getting laid.”

“also that.”

you almost laugh, but he touches you then, fingers sliding between your thighs, and the sound turns into a breath instead. his expression shifts when he feels how wet you are, the humor thinning into something heavier. he touches you once, then again, watching your face with too much focus.

“dean—”

“yeah,” he says, voice lower now. “i know.”

he rolls the condom on, then grips your hip with one hand and guides himself with the other. the head of his cock nudges against you, thick and hot, and you brace one hand on his shoulder.

“easy,” he breathes as you sink down.

you take him inch by inch, and the stretch burns deep enough to steal the next breath out of you. he’s big. no getting around it. your body has to work for every bit of him, and dean feels it too—his head falling back, throat tight, hands flexing against your hips like he’s trying very hard not to lose his mind.

you start moving. slow at first, because there is barely enough room and because rushing would be a waste. every roll of your hips drags him deep, the angle sharp enough to make your stomach tighten. dean watches you as if he’s trying to commit it to memory: your hands on his shoulders, your hair falling loose, your badge still clipped to your belt somewhere under the mess of clothing.

the whole thing is obscene. the whole thing is exactly what you choose.

“fuck, you’re tight. takin’ me so well.”

his mouth finds your chest again, kissing and sucking wherever he can reach while you ride him, but you keep the rhythm. you keep control. when his hips start to push up too eagerly, you press a hand to his chest and slow him with one look. “behave.”

his breath catches. then he grins, ruined and beautiful and irritating. “yes, officer.”

your body clenches around him before you can help it.

his grin fades. “oh,” he says, voice rough. “you liked that.”

you roll your hips harder, and the joke dies in his throat. his hand slips between your bodies, fingers finding your clit with an accuracy that makes your nails dig into his shoulder. he rubs tight, steady circles, matching your pace instead of stealing it, and heat rushes through you so quickly it almost makes you angry.

“right there?” he murmurs.

you don’t answer. you ride him harder. the car rocks beneath you, windows fogged white, the night outside reduced to shadows and streetlight. dean’s free hand grips your hip, guiding only when you let him, and his mouth brushes your jaw as his breath starts to break.

he keeps talking—filthy, sweet, messy. “so wet for me… look at you, ridin’ me like you own it. fuck, you feel incredible.”

“i said talk less.”

“can’t help it,” his fingers press firmer, dragging a sharp sound from you. “you feel too good.”

your orgasm builds hot and fast, coiling low, tightening with every deep stroke of his cock and every movement of his fingers. you feel it coming and chase it without shame, hips rolling harder, breath turning uneven. you clench around him, moaning his name, thighs trembling as waves of pleasure rip through you. dean curses, hips snapping up to fuck you through it, but he keeps his hand exactly where you need it until you’re shaking above him.

“that’s it,” he rasps. “fuck, that’s it.”

you’re still pulsing around him when he loses the last of his control. his hands lock on your hips, pulling you down as he thrusts up once, twice, then buries himself deep with a broken groan against your throat. his body goes tense beneath yours, breath hot on your skin as he comes, the condom catching everything.

for a minute, neither of you moves. not because it is romantic. because the car is small, your legs are useless, and dean winchester is still inside you with his arms locked around your waist like he forgot this was supposed to end.

eventually, his hand drifts up your back. gentler than it has any right to be. you glance down at him. his eyes are half-closed, his mouth soft, the cocky mask slipped just enough to show the tired man underneath it. blood at his hairline. bruised knuckles. fake badge somewhere in the front seat.

you shouldn’t want to stay. you do anyway.

his lips brush your shoulder. “stay a little longer?”

the question lands quietly between you. you consider making a joke. you consider reminding him that you still know at least six charges you could bring against him by morning.

instead, you rest your hand against his chest, right over the steady thud of his heart. “five minutes.”

dean’s arms tighten around you. “yes, ma’am.”

and the worst part is that you know none of you will count.