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fanforfanatic · 8 years ago

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As You’re Told - THREE

Relationships: Castiel x Reader Rating: Smut Warnings: Dom/sub, bdsm

~7000 words

Summary: You start dating Castiel, a famous physicist, when you get hired at the same university as him. A few months into the relationship, you explore dom/sub dynamics within your sex lives.

Read it on ao3

Chapters on tumblr: ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX

Chapter THREE

“I’d like you to pick your safeword now.”

“Wings,” You say, looking at Cas.

“Okay.” His small approving smile widens and becomes, there’s no other word for it, it becomes sly. He leans back in his chair and, in his usual gravelly voice, he says, “Come over here.”

It’s not particularly commanding but it is a command. You wonder if there’s a spell hidden in the words because there is no more air in your lungs and you can feel your eyes widen more than is probably humanly possible. All eight pints of your blood are in your cheeks and you think you should hurry and sign up for the circus. Watch This Woman Explode.

“Wings wingswingswings.”

Cas stares at you, his own eyes wide but not enough to challenge your holding of the world record. “That’s reassuring believe it or not. At least, I know that you won��t hesitate to use your safeword.” Cas looks simultaneously worried, amused and in shock. “Baby, you don’t have to do this.”

“Yes I do. I mean, no I don’t have to, I know. But I want to. I’m just-” Worried I’ll like it too much. Worried I’ll fuck it up. “I wanted to tell you that I think your checklist can be improved. First, it should be organised in categories not alphabetically. And some items should come with more details. And there should be more space for comments. And…” You take a deep breath, force yourself to calm down, force your heart to slow down. “I want to,” You repeat.

Cas gives you one of the softest looks he’s ever given you- probably one of the softest looks you’ve ever received period- and you don’t know if you should feel pathetic or comforted. You settle for an equally proportioned combination of the two. “You’re certain?” He asks.

You nod and then you decide that’s not enough. That you should speak. “I am.” Cas looks proud if a little unsure. But you’re sure so with a teasing tone you say, “Go on, mister. Boss me around.”

“We’ll start you off easy, alright?” Cas observes you intently, trying to find a sign of hesitation that’s more than just reasonable nerves. He doesn’t find one.

“Okay, Cas.” You say.

“Stand up for me.”

You don’t move for a few beats but eventually you jolt into action. Looking anywhere but at Cas, you untuck one foot from underneath you, anchoring it on the floor before hoisting yourself up. Your hands itch to tug your shirt down just to have something to do but you don’t want to give Cas another reason to doubt you want this.

Technically it’s his shirt since you did eventually track down the sock drawer to steal it. You had also put on yesterday’s jeans. It’s ironic, you think, because you’re mostly clothed and Cas is in nothing but his boxers. Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Aren’t you supposed to be in the nude, kneeling at his feet, while he wears a three piece suit? Or something?

“Good. Walk over to me.”

Your movements start out robotic, but at least they start right away. Honestly, at least they start . At least your legs are taking you to Cas and not heading out the door at full speed because of how much of a chicken shit you are. Short as the path from your seat to Cas’ is, somewhere along the way you ease into it. You try not to think about how simple his request is. How he’s humouring you more than anything else. You know Cas isn’t secretly mocking you in his head, because he’s too kind of a person but maybe someone should be. You try not to think about that either.

Cas makes it easy because when you finally come to a stop in front of him, he looks up at you happily, fondly. You believe him a little when he says, “Good.”

You rub at the inside of an elbow with the opposite hand to distract yourself from how he keeps staring at you. It doesn’t work.

Slowly like he doesn’t want to startle you, Cas leans forward and places his hands on your hips. “You’re so pretty.” He says.

You let out a small acquiescing grunt, barely a sound at all.

He lifts the white t-shirt you’re wearing enough to reveal the waistband of your pants and a few inches of skin. He places a delicate kiss there that sends a ripple of tingles. “Tell me.”

You frown at him in confusion for a second until you get what he’s asking of you. “ Cas, ” You whine.

He looks you in the eyes and his voice drops an octave. “Tell me.” You feel the words in your clit.

“I’m pretty.” You breathe.

He hums and drops another kiss on your abdomen.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Cas, but I think you’re doing it wrong. Aren’t you supposed to tell me how needy I am for your cock or something.” It’s teasing but you’re still a little breathless as you speak.

Cas looks up at you again and grins, returning his hand to your hip. He tugs you closer suddenly so you’re standing between his legs. “If I want to.” He winks. “Since you brought it up…”

“W-what?”

“Unbutton your pants.”

“I- Yeah, okay, Cas.” You accept.

You slide your hands off of his shoulders, where they had landed, to lift the shirt back up yourself. You thumb at the button of your jeans until it comes undone, your eyes on Cas’ the whole time. His on yours. You pinch the pull tab of the zipper next, by habit mostly, but you freeze before doing more.

“Do I- Did you want me to-” You’re very nervous again which makes you realise that you had become only a little nervous at some point.

Cas looks at you with pride. “So good for me, baby. Go ahead and unzip your pants.”

You let out a sigh, grateful for the task. If you’re doing something then you aren’t overthinking. As soon as the slider hits the bottom stop of the zipper, Cas’ hands swoop down, taking your pants with them, so they’re caught on your upper thighs. You startle, gasp and grip his shoulders again for support of all kinds.

“Needy for my cock, right? Those were your words?”

Cas pinches your thigh and you realise he expects an answer. “Yes, Cas.”

He swallows thickly, his dilating eyes on yours until they flick down to your underwear. “Let’s find out, shall we?” Without any more theatrics he moves the fabric still covering you to the side and presses two fingers against your lips. He doesn’t have to go any further because they get wet from that alone. “ Fuck. ”

He looks up at you with wild eyes. He knows the morning had an impact on you, you weren’t exactly trying to hide it with all the squirming you were doing. Or maybe you were trying which only proves his point more, but-

“I’ve never seen you this wet.” His finger aren’t drenched or anything, but they’re slick enough that he knows they would be if they dip inside even just a little.

Your head is swimming because Cas is finally finally touching you. You’ve been needing it so badly but you were too busy freaking out to notice. You can’t wrap your head around the fact that you didn’t just fling yourself at him an hour ago, let alone whatever Cas is going on about. Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation of his fingers against you. Just there. You want to ask him to do something, to do everything. Anything. Instead you whimper out a shaky, “W-what?”

“Open your eyes.”

You open your eyes.

“You’re so wet,” He rasps, sliding his fingers between your lips.

“ Cas ,” You moan, tightening your grip on his shoulders. You don’t dare look away.

Cas’ tongue darts out to wet his lips just as he touches the tip of a finger to your entrance. A light feather of a touch.

You rock your hips to grind down against his hand and you get one forward motion- one glorious forward motion where the base of his fingers rub your clit and the tips bump against your entrance firmly- before he withdraws his hand entirely. “ Cas. ”

He looks at his wet fingers instead of answering you which has you huffing in annoyance. There’s another pinch at your thigh. Behave. He doesn’t even have to say it.

“I don’t know if I should feel smug now or ashamed of the sex we’ve had in the past.” Cas contemplates. He’s more put together than before. The wild look in his eyes is replaced by mirth and cockiness. You want to smack him in the face.

“What you should be is putting your mouth to better use than all this dumb talking you’ve been doing.”

“So rude.” Cas smirks. “I don’t know about that. I think we should talk more.”

“Cas,” You grip. “All we’ve done is talk.”

“You think so?” He grins at you and you realise that your boyfriend is an evil man.

“ Yes , I think so.” You’re agitated. He has agitated you. And he knows it.

“So no more talking then, right? That’s not what you want?”

Your eyes flutter shut in despair but they snap open again when he pinches you and growls.

“No more talking, Cas.” You whimper your answer and you’ll feel ashamed later but right now what you want is to straddle his thigh and-

“Okay, you don’t want to talk.” He says casually. “Then, what do you want?”

“I-” That’s as much as you get out. “Cas,” You beg.

He shakes his head. “No free pass this time, baby. You’re going to tell me what you want.”

“I-”

Cas doesn’t totally get it, how you have no problem telling him what you don’t want, what you don’t like, with attitude even, but when it comes to the opposite you end up, well, like this. Even in writing. Sure not Yes. He doesn’t get it but he looks forward to figuring it out and breaking you out of the habit.

He moves the hand on your thigh to grip your hip in silent support as his wicked smile softens.

You let out a breath. Cas is here with you. Doing this with you. You just need to pull your big girl pants up, or down, and do this. It’s no different than dirty talk during usual sex, you tell yourself. It’s a lie but you pretend to believe it long enough to say, “I want you to touch me, please.”

“Look at that, you found your manners.” He’s back to teasing. “Because you asked so sweetly, I think I just might.” Then he says, “My good girl.”

Your breath hitches and you’re already trying to figure out how far down you need to get your pants when you hear ringing. You only realise it isn’t inside of your own head when Cas curses. You see him stick his two fingers, still wet with your slick, in his mouth. He doesn’t put on a show, you don’t even think he’s totally conscious of doing it. He’s just cleaning them up so he can reach for his phone. Which he does, making sure to keep those two fingers from touching the back of the device. You feel more heat pooling between your legs.

He grunts when he sees the ID and shoots you an apologetic look.

“Cas, no-”

“Hello?” He speaks gruffly into the receiver.

You glare daggers at him and when he gives you a stern look back your eyes drop involuntarily. You realise what you did and glance back up quickly, ready to glare defiantly again, but Cas looks, a little smug sure, but mostly elated. So you decide you’ll bitch later, right now you’ll just stand there for him. And by that you mean you’ll just stand there. Of course.

“Did you try turning it off and then back on?”

You crack a smile at Cas as the voice on the other end booms over the line. He winks at you and it distracts you enough that you don’t notice the hand on your hip move until it’s over your mound. His thumb dips in to roll over your clit and it’s all you can do to keep quiet.

“No, Dean, I don’t think you’re a dumb hairless ape, but then again you did decide to go to work on a saturday.”

You don’t actually manage to keep quiet. Cas has you mewling as he expertly applies pressure in waves of intensity, keeping you on your toes. You think he doesn’t want you to move so you bite your lip to help keep still.

“Don’t worry about that I backed up the data.” Pause “I didn’t not tell you. You never asked.” Cas laughs quietly at how he’s yanking Dean’s chain.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders and you close your eyes against the sensation when Cas’ flicks his thumb suddenly. As soon as you do, his hand is gone.

“Don’t use the first beta test results as a reference. It’s not supposed to match up, so you’re overreacting. And ruining my Saturday.”

Your eyes snap open like you’ve been slapped and Cas’s eyes are there, blue as ever, unrelenting and hard. You find yourself nodding silently and you don’t close your eyes again, you keep them on his. The hand returns and you actually sigh in relief. That last part might be because of how Cas smiles at you though. Shit, he was right, you don’t like having people upset with you.

“See. When in doubt always turn it off and then- He hung up on me.”

“What an asshole,” You say.

“Huh, you wouldn’t happen to be kissing up to me because you would like me to make you come, would you?”

“I would never, sir. ” Your tone is one of mock-offense and sarcasm and the only reason you don’t roll your eyes is because you don’t know if the unspoken rule is that you can’t close them or that you can’t look away altogether. Either way you don’t risk it because you don’t want Cas to stop touching you.

“So you don’t want to come, then?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t not say that.”

“So that’s what this is going to be? Semantics.” He raises a brow at you. “Fine. I want to come.”

“Hmm, I think you can do better.”

You grunt. “You’re the devil. Or at the very least you’re related to him.”

“Maybe,” He says, musing.

You say, “You’re the devil and- and I want you to make me come.” Then, with intended but failed snark, “Please.” It comes out desperate.

“So polite. We might make a classy lady out of you, yet.”

“Are you implying that-”

He takes his hand off and says, “Lift your shirt up.”

Taken off guard, you nod but it takes you a moment to start moving. Cas is giving you serious whiplash with how quickly he switches gears between teasing and… And whatever that tone is when he tells you to do something and makes you want to do as you’re told.

Eventually you manage, though. Taking your hands away from his shoulders, feeling both of his, on your hips again, steadying you, you take hold of the hem of your shirt and lift up to expose the same skin he had.

He keeps looking at you expectantly, then says, “Lift up your shirt to show me your breasts.”

“It’s-” technically your shirt. “I-” don’t know why I’m still nervous. “Okay, Cas.”

You do as you’re told and lift the shirt up and over your breasts. Cas just watches. You’ve seen each other naked enough times that there’s no reason to be shy but Cas is just watching. Just keeps looking at your breasts while you hold your shirt up so that he can. It’s got you squirming under his gaze. You’re both scolding yourself for foregoing your bra this morning and all too grateful that you did. If your underwear wasn’t ruined before it is now.

“Cas,” You whisper. A silent prayer for him to do something.

“You know how much I like art.” He tells you by ways of explanation.

You do roll your eyes this time (his eyes aren’t on yours so you think it’s okay) and say, “That’s a fucking cheesy li-”

Cas gives your left nipple a wet, sucking kiss which punches the air right out of you. Your breasts aren’t the most sensitive but the scrutiny they were under has you on edge. Cas blows cool air over the wet spot and watches with rapt attention as the nipple perks up and hardens.

His mouth returns to you then, less full frontal and more teasing. Licking around your nipple, nudging the bud only once in a while. Then, what was soft touches become scraping teeth and you can’t help your laboured breathing.

His hands move to your ass, still helping in keeping you up, but now also kneading. He presses the fabric of your underwear firmly where the cleft of your ass is. They’re tight enough that he can’t really get anywhere, but he manages to wedge the fabric just between your cheeks.

You want to touch him, want to run your fingers through his hair that’s never quite as soft as it looks, but you’re supposed to hold your shirt up so you don’t.

“Casss, please .” You hope it doesn’t sound as needy to him as it does to you. You don’t know what you’re asking for but when he takes his mouth off of you, you know that isn’t it. For a moment you think you did something wrong. You run the moment in your mind again. Had your eyes closed? Were you not supposed to talk? Did you-

“You’re doing so good, baby.” Cas praises and you fucking sag with relief. He’s looking you in the eyes and he sees it. Sees how the words affect you. Still, tenderly he asks, “How are we doing?”

You nod at him, even manage a small smile but then, because you want to keep being someone he’d praise, you say, “M’good, Cas.”

“Take your pants off.”

You don’t hesitate this time, moving your hands down almost immediately.

Cas spanks your ass. It’s more of a noisy tap than anything else but it still has you bounce to the balls of your feet.

“Keep holding your shirt up for me. I’m not done looking.”

Did he change his mind? No. He wants you to do both. You give him a questioning look and he returns it with amusement. Clearly you’re supposed to figure this out on your own. That’s okay. You have a PhD. You won an improv contest in high school. You always pick smart stuff when people ask what you’d bring with you if you were stranded on a deserted island.

You start by shimmying which does nothing but make Cas chuckle. Then you use one hand, hesitantly at first to gauge if it’ll earn you another spank, to push the pants down, while the other continues to hold your shirt up. That elicits some progress but the denim is tight enough around your thighs that it’s minimal.

Cas’ eyes flick between your hand at your pants, your breasts and your eyes, on a loop. Like there’s so much for him to see and he doesn’t want to miss a second of it. He’s watching your face, though, when you figure it out. When you get what he expects of you and his hard cock twitches when you do.

You realise what your only option is and you kind of want to scream. You want to tell Cas that he’s supposed to shove you on the bed and fuck you hard and gag you himself. He’s not supposed to be sitting comfortably as he watches you put his shirt in your own mouth. It’s so embarrassing like this, degrading almost, like you’re presenting yourself to him. You do it anyway and obeying sends a thrill through your entire body, but it’s nothing compared to what you feel when he hums in approval.

You get the pants off, without flourish and you wonder if you’re supposed to fold them neatly like you’ve read some doms have their subs do. Some doms have their subs do. You decide just to drop them on the table and Cas doesn’t object.

With that done you lift your hands to take the shirt out of your mouth but Cas says, “No.” So you stop, making him grunt, palming his erection for the first time.

You want to say something, want to beg Cas to stop looking at you like he is. Hungrily when his eyes rake over your body but with adoration when they’re on yours. You’re holding your shirt up though and can’t say much, so you focus on just doing that.

He turns you, then, a full three-sixty, nice and slow. His hands brushing your skin at all times as he spins you. Heat rises in the places where his touches and eyes linger.

“God, so pretty, so perfect.”

You feel impossibly small in his large hands, like something precious to be cherished.

When you’re facing him again, he doesn’t waste a second to stand. It’s so sudden that you gasp, the shirt slipping from your lips. You scramble to pick it up and hold it in your mouth again.

Cas smirks at you from above, from where he towers, but it doesn’t reach his eyes that are blown with lust. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky with you.

You wonder if he’s going to punish you. If he’s going to bend you over the table and smack your ass and fuck you from behind. You wonder why the idea is so appealing to you. If it’s sick that it is. Then you remember him saying it’s not a punishment if you enjoy it and you wonder what a punishment would look like.

You’re nervous again and it makes you realise that you stopped being nervous somewhere along the way. You don’t really have the time to be proud, though, because you’re too busy watching Cas with wide eyes. You’re not sure you’re ready for what might come next. You’re not sure you’re ready to deal with the fact that you’ve let him down.

You’ve only just started too. This is the longest morning of your life but Cas hasn’t really done anything yet. He’s just easing you into it. This is probably boring to him. Yet, you’ve managed to fail him.

He gives you a soft smile- he’s not upset- and just like that your worries dissipate, to be dealt with at another time.

“Take your shirt off,” He says.

The resistant part of you, the part that talks back and gives just as good as she gets, glares at him because what was the point of even keeping it on?

You got good at just doing and he doesn’t want you to start overthinking things again. He thinks the more you do this, the more you obey, the more you get used to doing as you’re told, the easier it’ll become for you to stop shying away and accept that you like it. You obviously like it, fuck he hasn’t really done anything yet and he’s got you preening. He’s got you looking at him with your big eyes, eager to please. Well, not right now. Now you’re glaring because you’re thinking too much. “Now.” He orders.

You get it. The point is that he wanted you to keep the shirt on. And now he doesn’t anymore. Or maybe the point is that he doesn’t need a point. So you take the shirt off and place it on top of the pants you’ve already removed.

You’re both in nothing but your underwear after that but Cas is so obviously the one in control. He places a hand on your shoulder and, with the other, cups your left breast- the same one he kissed and licked and bit earlier. He’s looking in your eyes while he brushes your nipple with his thumb almost absentmindedly. It makes you all too aware of how he hasn’t paid your right breast any attention at all.

You decide to remedy the situation but as soon as your hand lifts his leaves your shoulder to catch your wrist. His thumb doesn’t even stutter.

“You said I was allowed to touch.” You complain.

“No, I said I’d tell you when you aren’t. Right now, I’m forbidding it.”

“Okay, Cas.” It’s easy, this time. He lets go of your wrist and you drop your hand back to your side and doing so is easy. It’s simple this way. Obeying.

“That’s it,” He croons appreciatively.

He leans down and kisses you softly. His plush lips feel so heavenly against yours that you can’t spare a thought to realise that you haven’t kissed since this started. What a fucking crime. Your eyes close but so do his so you think it’s okay. His hand- the one that isn’t still on your breast teasing you torturously- is gentle on your cheek.

When he pulls away, it takes you a moment to regain your bearing and open your eyes. He says, “Good girl.”

You feel yourself throb between your legs and you know he feels you shiver in his hands.

“I want you to do a couple things for me, okay?”

“Sure.” You say, dazed from the kiss, dazed from the good girl.

Cas considers, for a moment, correcting your word choice, but he decides to let it go, for now. Mostly because he wants to get you used to doing more simple tasks before you two can move on to more.

“Take both checklists and the pens that we used,” He starts, making you frown. What’s this about? “Put the pens back in their places, put the new checklist in the top drawer on the right hand side and shred the old one. In that order, please.”

What? You think. You say, “Okay.” You don’t think your lucidity has returned to you completely yet.

You step away from him and it physically pains you when his hands fall away from your body. You turn and take a step before you still.

Cas knows you. You’ve been together for about three months which isn’t a lot at all but he does know you. So he knows that you’re not hesitating because you’re nervous. Or because you’re shy. Or because you’re unsure of yourself. You’ve already come a long way. He knows that you’d readily do what he tells you in this moment because he saw it your eyes. Which means, the reason that you stopped is because-

“Pens, top right drawer, shredder.” He says.

“Thank you, Cas.”

You’re off collecting the five items from the table, making your way to the couches to drop your red pen and then heading to the office area. It’s around that time that the reality of what’s happening hits you. You’re almost naked and walking around in Cas’ apartment. It isn’t a first, but this isn’t you not bothering with a shirt when you run to get water from the kitchen. This is you naked for Cas, in his apartment with the all-windows-back-wall, clutching not one but two BDSM non-contracts to your chest. You think you might be on fire. You want to come so badly.

You make it to his desk and now you don’t have to think about what you’re doing, you just have to do it. So you place the two blue pens in the pen holder, which you scoff at because none of his other pens are in it; they’re scattered instead. Next you place the document in the correct drawer. There’s blank note pads in there. It’s possibly the only compartment of the desk that isn’t in total disarray. It kind of makes your heart flutter that that’s where he wants to keep your document.

Next, you go to the shredder. You bend over to plug it into the wall, too far gone to even bother blushing at this point. Besides, you have a nice ass. Your new found control over your blood flow is short lived though because as you stoop to the ground, the fabric of your underwear slips from where your buttcheeks were holding it. Now you’re blushing. You’d been walking around with the world’s smallest wedgie but a wedgie nonetheless and in full display for Cas to see.

You faintly hear him laughing in the distance and you faintly want to punch him but you just dutifully pick the staple out of the pages and feed them to the machine. It whirs quietly and when it finishes you turn it off, unplug it, toss the staple in the trash and turn back to Cas.

He’s sitting back down again so he’s partly hidden by the table, but the way his arm moves lets you know that he’s stroking himself. You barely catch your breath and Cas says, “Come here.”

You pad across the floor, force yourself not to scurry. You know that Cas can tell because he laughs another quiet laugh.

When you’re in front of him again, he looks at you for a long moment, still pumping his cock lazily. He says, “What do you want?”

You surprise the both of you when you don’t even pause to say, “Whatever you want.”

Cas’ hand stutters on his dick. He still doesn’t know how he got so lucky as to have you stumble into his life. “That’s not the answer I’m looking for.”

Your eyes track the movement of his hands. “I didn’t think there were wrong answers,” You say quietly but with a teasing edge.

“Dishonest ones are wrong. One’s that don’t actually answer the question are wrong too. Tell me what you want, never what you think I want to hear.”

“I- I wasn’t trying to please you- I mean I was, but it’s not not true.” You lick your lips when his thumb picks up the bead of precome from his slit to drag it down his length.

“Do you want to be good for me?”

“Y-yes.”

“What do you want right now?”

“Want to feel you,” You mumble, looking up from his cock to look at him. His eyes startle you, they’re more black than blue.

“Come ’ere.”

He helps you so that you straddle his thighs, his dick at attention between the two of you, and pulls your hips down so that your ass rests on his knees. He regrets it a little, because feeling you squirm is distracting him in all the good ways.

He takes your hands from his shoulders, where you had put them, and brings them behind your back. “Like this,” He says as he wraps your fingers around the opposing elbow. You do the same with the other and he nods in approval.

He gives your left nipple- always your left nipple- a quick bite, hard enough to make you jump, hypothetically since his hands are on your hips again and they keep you in place, but not hard enough that it hurts.

“I want you to move with me.”

You nod a bobble head nod and Cas lets out a little laugh. You’re not even bothered.

You shuffle forward at the insistence of his hands until your crotch is against his cock, trapping it against his stomach. The fabric of your panties is the only thing between you, his boxers having been pushed down below his balls when he started touching himself.

You mean to move, just a little bit, but Cas’ hands stop you. I want you to move with me, he said.

With your eyes fixed on his shoulder, you say, “Sorry.” It’s so quiet that Cas wouldn’t have heard if you weren’t in his lap.

“S’okay. Can you feel me, now?” He lifts his hips the tiniest amount but you’ve been so still, just pressed against each other, that the sensation is everything. You do feel him. You feel the hard pressure of him against you slit, against your clit. You feel your entrance contract and a fresh flow of wet escape you.

“Yes, Cas. I can feel you.” You don’t mean for your voice to sound as wrecked as it does but you don’t care.

“Jesus, you’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”

You meet his eyes then, curiously more than anything else.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” He says. “I might ruin you, baby.” He says. “Gonna make you feel so good you don’t even know.” He says.

You look at his mouth now, because you can’t bear to look at the twin rings of blue anymore, not while he says these things. You watch his lips form the words and you concentrate, with everything you’ve got, to not start grinding on him because he wants you like this. He wants you still.

“Look at you. Doing so good for me. Arms behind you for me. Breasts pushed out for me. So fucking wet, I can feel it through your underwear, for me. ”

“Cas,” You whimper. Or maybe you moan. You don’t think it matters.

Cas just hums, like he’s content to stay like this forever. You think he might just make you, and you would , but you want so much- want more- want him.

“Cas, k-kiss me, please.” You’re blushing again, brighter than before, maybe brighter than you have all day.

The last and only time you asked someone to kiss you, really asked someone to kiss you, not a sexy growl of a kiss me where your own lips were pressed against theirs before the words were even out, was sophomore year of high school. You’d asked your closest friend, at the time anyway, because you wanted to get your first kiss over with. It was embarrassing then and it’s embarrassing now.

It’s worth it, you decide, because Cas hums again and you feel the vibrations of it as he slots his lips against yours. It’s soft for only a moment before it gets hungry. You’re both hungry.

Your tongues don’t battle for dominance, like you’ve read they might, because you just give. You just let Cas take whatever he wants and you accept whatever he gives you and it feels good. It feels good everywhere. You feel the kiss trill through you. From your nervous system, to the surface of your skin. Everything tingles- especially your left nipple- and when Cas hums again, into the kiss, so does your entire body. You don’t think it could get better than this, you don’t think you can feel better than this but then Cas moves your hips and you have to pull away to let out a moan that’s both guttural and high pitched.

For a moment you think it might be too much, too much sensation, too much good, too much for you to feel all at once, to process. Then, your mind quiets back down and it’s just you and Cas and his hands on your hips moving you how he wants to move you. Your hands grip your elbow tighter out of a conscious fear that you might let go unconsciously.

You lean back in for another kiss, your moaning now manageable, a string of sighs more than anything else, but Cas leans back, content in you watching come apart for now.

“Like this,” He says, not for the first time.

He rocks your hips very deliberately, a certain tempo, a certain pressure, and then lets go of you. Your movements falter for a moment, but you get what he wants and you’ll be damned if you don’t deliver.

You’ve done this before. Well, not this , but you’ve been on top with Cas before and this isn’t so different. Okay, it’s very different in very many ways but it’s familiar enough that you don’t feel like you’re floundering.

You replicate the motion he showed you as best you can and try not to stray from it. You try not to bear down harder even if you’d feel him against your clit more if you did. You try not to grind faster even if it means that it might just make you come. You try, you try, you try and it’s worth it when Cas says, “My good girl.”

You make some sort of sound you’ve never heard before and Cas says, “Phenomenal.”

“ Cas, please. ” You’re begging now. You’re doing your best to move like he wants- even if he wants it too damn slow-, doing your best to keep your eyes from closing. You’re doing your best and begging.

“Use your words.” His tone is harder than you expect and you know there’s no room for negotiation.

“I want to feel you.” You echo yourself.

“You said you do feel me. Were you lying?” He’s teasing you, you know that he is but you’re so desperate you still cry out to rectify.

“No, Cas, I-” You drop your forehead to his shoulder. It makes your- your humping - because that’s what you’re doing- more awkward but you don’t care. “I want to feel you more .”

He lifts your head so you’re looking at him and his hands on you- even if they’re just on your face- is a goddamn gift from God.

“Please, please, please, Cas.” You’re a mess and you’re not crying but there must be tears on your cheeks because Cas is wiping them away.

You don’t know if it’s enough, if what you’ve said is enough for him, but Cas must think so, or he takes pity on the mess that you are, because he helps you along. Helps you with the words.

“Do you want to move these out of the way?” He pulls on the waistband of your underwear and lets it snap back to your skin, one hand still cradling your head, his fingers buried in your hair.

You lean into the touch and you say, “Yes, Cas. Please, Cas.”

“Okay, baby.”

Cas is nothing if not true to his word. He moves the fabric to the side and you both hear the sound of it unsticking from your lips. You’d have blushed, but during the next upward rocking of your hips Cas slips into your slit. You’re so wet that the glide is something else. Who has time to blush after that?

He’s rubbing directly against your clit now. He presses along the length of you pussy and it’s the dirtiest grind you’ve ever been apart of.

“Cas, Cas, Cas, Cas,” You chant. Cas, Cas, Cas, Cas, you pray.

Cas says, “Fuck, that’s it. So perfect- shit - so good .” -You sob, here.- “You’re-”

Something is ringing again. Similar to before and it wasn’t in your head before so it mustn’t be in your head now either. Your eyes widen. “Cas, no!”

Your hand darts out to catch his wrist. He glares at you so suddenly that you physically cower and return your hands behind your back.

“I’ll only answer if it’s Dean,” He promises.

He turns the phone over in his hand, so the screen is facing up and you both slump when you see the name and picture of the one and only Dean Winchester.

The look he gives you is apologetic. He swipes his thumb over the screen and stops your hips you hadn’t even realised were still moving.

“The school better be- No, screw that if the school is burning you still don’t need to be calling- Charlie?”

Cas pulls you closer, nuzzles into your neck for a moment and it’s exactly the comfort you need after your last mishap.

He leans back, out of necessity, to answer the frantic-sounding woman on the phone. You can just barely make out her voice, but you’re getting a distinct vibe of hysteria in her long Charlie Ramble TM.

“Bradbury, get a hold of yourself. I already told Dean that I backed it up.”

He switches ears to free up his right hand and pinches your- left- nipple playfully. You swallow down a yelp but you can’t help the way you grind against him. He pinches you again, but this time in warning. You nod at him, a promise to be good, and he gives you a light tweak. He licks his thumb, presses it against the hard bud and you shudder out a breath, your head falling back.

“You did what to the server?”

His hand leaves your breast to draw you back a few inches, so that his cock isn’t wrapped in your pussy on either side. He sits up straighter, gives the call most of his attention but he keeps a hand at your spine, to steady you in the commotion.

“Forget how much the machine’s gonna cost the department, Charlie, that data took the entire semester to collect and the research can’t move forward without it. Tell Dean- No. Tell Dean, we’re not going to salvage what we can, we’re getting it all back.”

He looks at you then and the only way you can describe it is mournful.

“Yeah, I’m on my way give me twenty, thirty- maybe forty- fuck, Charlie, I’ll be there soon, okay?” He hangs up.

He keeps looking at you like it’s tearing him apart to do so.

“What happened?” You ask, quietly.

“The LPA’s built in memory got wiped during maintenance and Dean doesn’t know what happened to the back up and Charlie used the server I backed up the back up on to orga- It doesn’t matter. How are you?”

“Euh, I’m good, Cas… Are we going to get the show on the road or do you have to go right away? You told Charlie up to forty minutes and I think that’s plenty of time-”

Cas shakes his head, looking just as torn as before.

You sigh. “Yeah, okay, it’s fine. Well, it’s not fine, I’m fucking aching ‘cause I want you so bad, but I get it.”

Cas laughs quietly and stops you from getting up and off him. “There’s that switch again.” He undoes your hands from behind you and brings them to the front, rubbing the sides of them like he’s trying to stimulate blood flow you haven’t lost. “You did so well, sweetheart. You were so good.”

You blush and scratch the back of your head, trying to ignore the tingle between your legs. “Euh, thanks Cas.” You move to get up again. He stops you again , this time pulling you to his chest and wrapping his arms around you. You sigh deeply, something settling inside of you. Your head rests on his shoulder and you watch his throat move as he talks.

“I knew you would be. Knew you’d be so so good.” He pets your hair, slowly, letting you feel the movement, letting you draw comfort from it.

“Cas you gotta go.” You tell him.

“I’ve got a bit of time.”

“Then why aren’t you fucking me?”

“I’ve got time for this.”

“But-”

“Don’t argue with me, baby. Okay? Just sit here with me for a minute.” He says.

You say, “Okay, Cas.”

You just sit there in his arms, with him crooning sweet words in your ear, against you hair, into your mouth, for half an hour. Cas’ erection goes down eventually and your want-need does too, but your thighs and Cas’ end up slick with your wetness. He asks you, in between soft murmurs, what you have planned for the day. You tell him that you want to put the results of the assignments you finished grading the night before in the system and that you need to work on a powerpoint for a seminar you’re giving to undergrad freshmen next week. He asks if you have everything you need here. You say yes. He asks if you want to stay.

You don’t have the key to Cas’ apartment, so when you’re left alone at his place, whether it’s just while he runs an errand or he has a full day scheduled and you’ve slept over and he gets going before you wake, it’s with the knowledge that you won’t be leaving until he returns. You can’t, not without leaving his place unlocked for the world to break into. Or not break into, as it happens.

You say yes.

You two go to his shower and Cas just barely stands under the water long enough to run his loofa over his body quickly before exiting. By the time you step out, wearing his bathrobe (he uses a towel when you’re there), Cas is already dressed in his usual garb. Today, it’s dark jeans, a navy sweater with the white collar of a dress shirt peeking out and, of course, one of his many tweed jackets. It’s a good combo and you tell him so, leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom.

He looks up from where he’s slipping on his shoes, by the front door.

“Good, you’re out.” He says. Good. It’s strange hearing that word in any other context now. There’s nothing imposing about him in this moment. No more than his usual self anyway. Cas does know how to occupy a room and commandeer your attention. “Come here.” He reaches out for you even as he unhooks his tan trench from the coat stand. It’s not an order. It’s not even the way he was coaxing you into action before. He just wants to say goodbye.

You shuffle to him and, when you’re close enough, he tangles his fingers in your wet hair and holds the back of your head, pulling you the rest of the way to him and into a kiss. It’s long and hard and, you think, meaningful. When it ends, he presses your foreheads together. It takes you a moment to finally open your eyes and when you do, you find his still shut. Eventually, like he can’t bear to do it, he drags himself away from you and scoops up his leather messenger bag.

“You’re going to be alright?”

You scrunch your nose at him in a way you know is unattractive and say, “Sure, Cas. I’ve been here alone before.”

“Yeah but you- Nevermind. Okay. Call me if anything comes up.” You fix his lapels as he speaks in a serious tone.

“Think I’ll manage, but you got it, Cas.” You give him a peck and when you draw back he stops you to give you another.

“I wish I didn’t have to leave you,” He says.

“Cas, it’s fine. We’ll get each other off later.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “I’ll be as quick as I can.” He opens the door.

“Take your time.”

“I’ll be as quick as I can,” He says again and then he’s gone.

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Chapters on tumblr: ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX

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