Archive of Our Own ^beta

Dialogue Prompt:
“No one said you’re crazy. We’re all just… Planning on whispering it to each other later.”

“Gabriel!” The irritation in your voice bounces off the hard stone walls of the bunker, right back in your face. You stalk through rooms, searching out the archangel. He’s nowhere to be found, and there’s no way you’ll find him if he’s hiding. He’s a master at hiding, after all.

“GABRIEL!” you bellow as you thunder into the library, much to Sam and Dean’s surprise.

They both look up, Sam from his laptop, Dean from a research book. They take in your appearance with a sweeping glance. Sam’s eyebrows go up, but he stays quiet. Dean can’t do it, he just has to comment. He can never stay quiet. Ever.

“Trouble in paradise, Molly Ringwald?”

You fume. “Shut up, Dean.”

He snorts and looks back at his book, but he can’t hold back another comment. “Your boyfriend got and 80’s fetish or what? You look like you just stepped out of Pretty in Pink.”

Your face flames in anger. He isn’t wrong though; that’s the exact dress you’re wearing. “This is the best I could do, the rest of my wardrobe looks like something out of Flashdance.”

Dean flicks his eyes over the boxy dress again. “Got any leg warmers? I always loved a girl in leg-”

Sam kicks him under the table and Dean yelps. “What?” he whispers at his brother, like he has no idea why he got a boot to the shin.

“Have you seen Gabriel?” You snap at them.

Sam meets your eyes for less than a second, a quick shake of his head the only answer.

“Come on, you have to tell us why you’re wearing the world’s ugliest homemade prom dress,” Dean says as he kicks his feet up on the table, research book tossed aside and forgotten.

You roll your eyes, your hands resting on your hips. The thick satin of the dress makes you even angrier as it bunches under your fingers, it feels cheap, scratchy, tacky.

“Let’s just say I don’t think he appreciated me cleaning all his candy out of my bedroom.”

Dean cackles. “So this is how he retaliates?”

“I told him I was going to do it and he warned me not to.” You smooth down the dress in irritation, hoping it will also soothe your growing irritation. It doesn’t help.

“Why would you get rid of his candy?” Sam finally breaks his silence to ask. “It’s not like he’s going to get cavities, he’s an angel.”

“No, but I can. And I can’t stop thinking about the candy in the nightstand. And I pretty much can’t fit in my jeans at this point, all because of that damn candy.”

“Did you tell him that?” Sam is always so damn reasonable with his questions. It’s infuriating.

“No.” You cross your arms over your chest and look away.

“Why?”

Dammit, Sam. Quit making this sound so easy.

“Because dating an angel isn’t that simple, Sam. If I tell him the candy makes me gain weight he’ll tell me he’ll get me a new wardrobe. When I tell him I don’t want a new wardrobe, that I just want to be able to fit in my own clothes he’s not going to understand. He never understands human stuff like that.”

You take a deep breath and sigh before you finish explaining. “So when I put my jeans on yesterday and couldn’t hardly button them, I told him that I didn’t want the candy in the drawer anymore and I was going to get rid of it. He told me not to touch his candy or he’d fix my wardrobe for sure, and now I have this…” You motion to the dress and flop down in a chair next to Sam. “And it looks like the 80’s vomited all over my bedroom. I’ve never seen so much acid washed denim. And there’s a Desperately Seeking Susan poster on my wall for shit’s sake.”

Dean shrugs one shoulder. “Not Madonna’s best movie, but it’s not bad.” He’s on the verge of losing himself in laughter, he’s fighting it though. “I think the moral of this story is, don’t touch an angel’s candy. How ‘bout you, Sammy?”

Sam rolls his eyes at Dean’s wisdom.

“Any idea how I can get him here without a summoning spell? This is ridiculous,” you say, tugging at the collar on the dress. It has a collar, for the love of God, and you’re pretty sure the lace is giving you a rash.

“Cas!” Dean yells. A moment later the trench coat clad angel is staring at your dress like you’ve grown a third head.

“Where’s Gabriel,” you snap at him, and then feel guilty when he meets your gaze, obviously confused at the annoyance in your tone.

“I don’t know. Have you tried praying to him? That’s how humans usually reach angels-”

“I’m aware how humans reach angels, Cas. I’m fully aware, but I’m not praying to that asshole right now,” your anger is rising again, “I swear to God, if he doesn’t show up in the next two seconds I’m going to kick his a-”

Wings flutter behind you and you know instantly that he’s there.

“You guys always talk about me like this behind my back? I’m a little hurt I gotta sa-” Gabriel sounds so casual as he strolls further into the room, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

That casual tone sets you off, and you’re standing and rounding on him in an instant. Sam grabs you just in time before you launch yourself at the archangel.

“Where in the hell are my clothes?!” You yell.

“Well, well, sugar,” he looks you up and down, “don’t you look lovely this evening. Should I call you Andi? Will you be my date to the prom? You know I love a little role play.” He shakes his arms out at his sides. “Let me get into character. Am I Blaine?”

“Gabe, I swear,” you start, but Dean is laughing and you turn to shoot daggers at him. “You think this is funny?”

He sobers instantly. “No, not at all,” he shakes his head seriously, clearing his throat. “I can’t believe you’ve done this, Gabriel. This is horrible.” He smirks, trying to hide a smile. “And you are not a Blaine, dude. You’re a total Duckie.”

Gabriel saunters closer to Dean and eyes him up and down. “I am so a Blaine, if anyone’s a Duckie, you are.” A glint of humor in Gabriel’s eye shows he’s loving all of this. “And this,” he motions to your dress, “isn’t horrible. Throwing away my candy is horrible, Dean-O. This,” he motions to your dress again, “is payback.”

“You two are both wrong,” you say, looking between Dean and Gabriel, Sam’s arms still holding you in place. “Andi should have picked Duckie anyway, you can both be Blaine and fuck off.” You wrestle your way out of Sam’s hold and stand to his side. “Now snap my clothes back, dammit! Why the hell would you change my clothes to this shit?!”

He wags his finger at you and you want to break it. “To teach a lesson, obviously.” He looks between Sam and Dean, takes in Sam’s horrified face and Dean’s amused one. “You both think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

“No one said you’re crazy. We’re all just… Planning on whispering it to each other later,” Sam says.

Gabriel chuckles. “Yeah well, you haven’t seen her when she’s mad. Get her pissed off and she’s a real tiger in the bedr-”

“Gabe, I swear to God, if you finish that sentence,” you warn.

He rolls his eyes in mock exhaustion. “What, gonna tell my dad on me? Taking his name in vain, sweetheart? Really?”

“Gabriel,” Cas addresses his brother for the first time, “that seems blasphemous even by your standards.”

“Get over it, Cassie. Dad's on a hunting trip, hasn't been home in a few millennia. Spoiler alert, baby bro, he doesn’t care. So pull that giant stick out of your ass and quit worrying what Dad thinks.”

Sam and Dean exchange an uncomfortable look.

“I want my clothes back, now,” you insist, ignoring all of them.

“Fine,” he bends his arm and offers you his elbow. “At least be my date to the bedroom?”

You storm off, the pink kitten heels you’re wearing clicking on the tile floor as you try to stomp away.

You slam the door to your room, knowing full well that Gabriel is going to snap himself in anyway, which he does a second later.

He takes in the room with a cocky smirk on his face. You had pulled every piece of clothing out of the drawers and closet and they’re scattered on every surface. It looks like the 80’s threw up neon and lace everywhere.

“Fix this,” you motion around the room.

“Me?” He points at himself. “I didn’t make this mess, why do I have to clean it up?”

“Gabe.” The warning in your tone is obvious.

“Promise not to throw my candy away again.”

You throw your arms up in exasperation. “Why does it matter? You can always snap up more! And in the meantime, I don’t have to be tempted by your chocolate stash!”

He cocks an eyebrow at the comment. “Tempted? Why be tempted,” he tries to move closer and you stomp away, putting the bed between you. “If you want it, eat it, kitten.”

“Hello,” you wave your finger around your face, “human! I’m a human, not an angel! I can’t just eat all the candy I want, my clothes don’t even fit now!”

“So we get you new clothes,” he shrugs.

He doesn’t get it. At all. You knew he wouldn’t. You’re trying to cool off and explain this, your anger is fading a tad, but you still don’t really have the patience needed for this conversation.

“No, Gabe. I don’t want new clothes, my clothes are fine. And I don’t care if you eat candy, eat all the candy in the world if you want, I just don’t want to eat so much candy that my jeans get too tight. My ass is getting bigger, that’s not something I want.”

“I like it when you eat candy,” he says, almost pouting, you can see his face fall as he talks. “I like to kiss the chocolate off your lips.”

You want to climb on the bed that’s between you and kiss him for that comment, but you don’t. You’ve got to make sure he understands what you’re saying before you let down your guard.

“I like that too. I do. And I’ll still eat candy with you, I promise. I just don’t want it in the drawer by my bed. When you want some candy snap it up, why does it have to be in there so I think about it all the time?”

His eyes are a little surprised at your words. “I thought you liked it.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. He’s a million years old, this shouldn’t be so hard to explain. “I do. I like it a little too much. Does that make sense?”

“Let me get this straight.” He puts his knee on the bed, moving toward you. “You want candy, just not all the time.”

You nod.

He puts both knees on the bed, moving closer. “So you like eating candy with me, you just don’t want it around when I’m not here.”

You nod.

“So we can still watch movies and I can kiss the chocolate off your lips?”

You nod, trying to smother your smile and stay serious.

He scoots toward you more, until he’s almost up against you but not quite touching. “And you know I don’t care if you gain weight?”

You sigh and lean your forehead into his, closing your eyes.

His hands slide around your waist. “And you know I love your ass, right?” He squeezes it firmly in his hands and you finally break, smiling.

“Yes, Gabe.”

“Good,” he presses in closer, his body lining itself up to yours. You know where this is leading.

You open your eyes and see a swatch of bright turquoise tucked under his knee. You move away quickly, leaving him cuddling closer to nothing as you snatch the leg warmer out from under his leg. You wave it in front of him. “Fix this.”

His eyes smile at you. “Let’s just say, just for curiosity’s sake, that I might want to see you in a pair of leg warmers. How open would you be to that idea?”

You smirk at him. “What is with you and Dean and this leg warmer kink?” He looks confused by your question. “No, I’m not wearing leg warmers. Not tonight. You’re in trouble, remember? Now fix this.” You wave the leg warmer around like some kind of bizarre flag.

“What’re you gonna do if I don’t?” He’s so damn cocky, crossing his arms over his chest like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He loves this kind of thing, he’s loving every minute of this.

“I swear, I will ward this bunker against you for all eternity. You’ll never step foot in here again.” You’re bluffing, you both know it, but he doesn’t call your bluff.

He sighs, and then he raises his hand and snaps away the 80’s paraphernalia. “There, you happy now?”

“Are my clothes back?”

He nods.

You look down at the dress you’re still wearing and then shoot him a glare.

A lop sided grin covers his face. “Oh come on, you know you kinda like it. Admit it, you even put on the pink hose, you wouldn’t have put on the pink hose if you didn’t like it just a little bit.”

You roll your eyes but you don’t try to deny it. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t take a little joy at putting on that stupid prom dress.

And then he snaps his fingers again and you’re standing in your bra and panties.

You shake your head at him but you can’t help but return his wolfish grin. He reaches out and pulls you closer, his arms wrapping you up tight.

“How about some music to set the mood?” He whispers. It’s faint at first, and you barely hear it because he’s kissing his way along your jaw and back to your ear, but when you finally make out the tune you slap his shoulder. How you didn’t catch what song it was the minute it started you don’t know, but the chorus is unmistakeable and he’s laughing as you pull away.

Don’t you, forget about me
Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t
Don’t you, forget about me

“Seriously? You don’t think you’re in enough trouble already?”

He mock pouts. “What? I just thought we’d continue the theme...”

“Well you got your movies wrong, that song isn’t in Pretty in Pink, it’s in The Breakfast Club.” You cross your arms over your chest and relish getting to tell him he’s wrong about something a little too much.

He rolls his eyes. “I know that, sugar. But you said The Breakfast Club is your favorite. If I remember right you’ve got a John Bender thing, isn’t that what you said?”

Your face flames in heat. You’d told him that ages ago, way before you’d started dating. You’d forgotten all about it.

“What’d’ya say,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, “I’ll wear combat boots and an oversized coat, snap up some of those fingerless gloves you think are so hot. You got any diamond earrings? That’s pretty important. If you’re gonna be Claire you gotta give me-”

You press a finger to his lips to make him stop talking. “No, that’s-” You shake your head, horrified that he knows you well enough to notice your interest in those damn fingerless leather gloves. You’d spent many a formative year thinking about John Bender’s hand on your face as he kissed you, what that leather would feel like on your cheek, your neck…

You shake your head firmly, both at your thoughts and what he was saying. “No.”

He’s smirks; he knew bringing up that movie would fluster you, it’s written all over his face.

You push his chest playfully, but it’s hard enough to make him move, probably because he wasn’t expecting it. He looks down at his body and up at you with a cocky grin.

“No,” you say a third time, “you’re still in trouble, mister.”

“Oh really?” He raises an eyebrow. “What’s my punishment?”

You cross your arms over your chest seriously and appraise him, chewing your lip as you think it over. What could you possibly do to him that he wouldn’t love? There’s really nothing you can think of, he’s up for anything, anytime. He’s always more than ready and eager to get at you, like he can’t ever get enough of you, your skin, the way you feel-

The idea slams you in the face and you immediately grin at him like a fool. He cocks his head at you, just slightly, apparently your shit eating grin isn’t what he was expecting.

You take a couple steps back, putting distance between the two of you. He watches your feet as you move, obviously not sure what’s happening.

“Off the bed,” you order.

He starts to come forward, toward you, but you hold your hand out to stop him. “Nope, huh uh. Back up.”

He pauses, and for the first time you can tell you’ve actually thrown him a little. He doesn’t know what you’re doing and he’s off his game because of it.

He backs off of your bed and crosses his arms, mirroring your stance. “What are we doing?” You can tell he wants an explanation, and he wants it now, but you let his question hang for a second.

“Well,” you finally say, uncrossing your arms and letting your hands move slowly around your hips. “I’m going to take off my bra,” your hands slip up your back to unfasten it, your arms holding the fabric in place.

His eyes move to your chest, watching intently as you slide the straps off of each arm and finally let the entire thing fall to the floor. You cup your breasts for a second, then slide your hands down your sides and hook each thumb in the waist of your panties.

“And in a bit,” your hands slide out of the waist of the thin material and you climb onto your bed, propping yourself up with pillow behind your head, “I’m going to take off my panties.” You slide a hand down between your legs, putting pressure over your clit through the satin material. The way he’s looking at you is already turning you on, the heat in his eyes, his tongue licking the corner of his mouth.

He starts to move toward you on the bed and your hand is up to stop him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

His eyes flash over your face, searching for a hint to why you won’t let him near you. There’s a bit of uncertainty that borders on fear and you realize he’s so unsure of what’s happening that he’s uncomfortable, which isn’t what you wanted.

You drop your hand when he stands up again. “Listen,” you say, your hand sliding back between your legs to start it’s massage again, “this is what’s going to happen. I’m going to touch myself, I’m going to enjoy myself, I’m going to make myself come, and while I do that you’re not allowed to touch me.” You close your eyes as you rub a firm circle over the top of your mound. It’s starting to feel good, really good.

Your eyes open and you look at him again. “Unless,” you go on, “I tell you to touch me. You can only touch me how I say and where I say, do you understand? That’s your punishment, how does that sound?”

His gold eyes are dilating as he watches your hand. He meets your gaze and nods once. “I think I like this punishment.”

You smile at him. Maybe he’ll like this but you’re pretty sure it’ll be harder than he’s imagining. Your panties are getting wet, you can feel the dampness on your fingers. You close your eyes again and relax fully into your pillow, just letting yourself feel.

It doesn’t take long until the fabric between your fingers and your clit has got to go, and you slip the panties off and toss them away absently. You roll your read as your fingers slide between your folds. Your fingers dip inside and then back up to circle around your clit once again, your legs spreading without you giving it any thought.

Your other hand moves up your stomach, over your ribs, cupping your breast to roll your nipple. It feels good, but not as good as it does when Gabriel licks them.

You open your eyes and find him standing a few feet from your bed. His lips are parted, your panites are held in one of his hands. He must have moved to catch them without you noticing. His eyes are roaming up and down your body, from your curling toes up to your face and back down again.

“Gabe,” your voice is soft and husky, and it draws his gold eyes to yours. “Lick them...” your fingers brush your nipples, and he knows exactly what you want.

He’s on you in two steps, kneeling beside the bed. He palms one breast, his thumb brushing the sensitive nipple, while his warm mouth covers the other and his tongue starts it’s ministrations.

A tiny gasp escapes and you arch your chest into him. He licks and sucks, alternating between the two sensitive nubs, and you’re moving closer and closer to coming. Your fingers don’t stop, circling your clit, then brushing back and forth, up and down, circles, on and on.

Your breathing is getting faster and faster as you lose yourself in what you’re feeling. Everything is just right, just what you want, his mouth, his hand trailing down your ribs, over your stomach, lower and lower-

“Gabe!” Your eyes fly open and your hand grabs his, stopping it’s slow slide. “You’re breaking the rules,” you chastise, “you’re only allowed to touch me how I tell you, where I tell you.”

He pulls back slightly, meeting your gaze. Gold flecks flash, and he moves his hand from your stomach to the mattress, resting his weight on it. “I hate rules,” he practically growls.

“Yes, I know. You hate rules unless you’re the one making them up, that’s the point.” Your fingers start again between your legs, and you search his face as he watches you lick your lips. “Kiss me,” you whisper.

He obliges, more than willing. It’s gentle for just a second, and then he’s teasing your mouth open with nips of his teeth, his tongue brushing over yours. He knows how to kiss, and he knows you like it. It drives you crazy, his closeness, his hands on your face, the faint sweetness of his mouth. He smells good, clean and somehow intoxicating, and you suddenly want your hands on his skin, but he’s still fully dressed.

“Gabe,” you mumble against his lips, “get your clothes off.” You’re probably not doing a very good job of teasing him, begging him to get naked, but who cares.

He pulls back and raises his hand to snap, but you grab it before he can click his fingers together. “No, I want to watch you take your clothes off.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. This isn’t something you’ve ever requested. After a pause he smirks, standing and sliding his jacket off.

As he slowly pops the buttons on his shirt then you hear soft music start to play. You can’t help but smile, no matter how hard you fight it.

He sways his hips a little and it’s all you can do not to laugh. You bite your lip instead, listening to the lyrics as he pulls his shirt open, revealing his chest and sliding each arm out of it’s sleeve.

Watching every motion
In my foolish lover’s game

His shirt is off, he deliberately works the buckle open on his belt.

On this endless ocean
Finally lovers know no shame

He purses his lips, blowing you a kiss.

Turning and returning
To some secret place inside

“Oh I’m gonna get inside alright,” he whispers, winking as he pulls his belt out.

Watching in slow motion
As you turn around and say

He pops the button on his jeans and slides his zipper down. His pants fall open, slung low on his hips.

Take my breath away
Take my breath away

He hooks his thumbs in waist of the pants and pushes them down to his knees, mouthing the words as he kicks free of them.

Watching I keep waiting
Still anticipating love

He turns, showing you his perfect ass while he looks at you coyly over his shoulder. You laugh, you can’t hold it in, and he turns back to you with a smile.

Never hesitating to become the fated ones
Turning and returning
To some secret place to hide

His fingers trace the band of his boxer briefs and before you even think about it you’re on your feet, stepping up to him and running your palms around his waist. His cock is hard and straining against the thin cotton fabric.

Watching in slow motion
As you turn to me and say

He’s swaying with you in his arms, and you don’t remember making the decision to dance but now that you’re doing it it feels right. Your feet move, rocking back and forth between his, falling into the sexy rhythm of the song.

Take my breath away

He mouths those words as he leans in to kiss you, and then you don’t even hear the song anymore, it’s just you and Gabriel and his kiss. Your hands find his waistband and push the offending fabric down so you can get to skin. Your palms slide around to cup his ass and he grins into the kiss as you smack it.

“There’s my tiger,” he says.

Your hands work around to the front of him, taking his cock between them. He huffs as you tighten your grip, sliding up and down, and when you roll your thumb around the precome his head falls back with groan.

His hands are on your lower back, kneading in the soft flesh, sliding lower to squeeze your ass. You push his arms away and kneel in front of him.

“Rules, remember?” He looks down at you with sparks in his eyes. “You can’t touch me unless I tell you to.”

“You’re gonna kill me with this tease-” the words are cut off as you lick a line up the underside of his cock. He moves to put his hands on your head but catches himself. His hands slide into his hair as his head falls back again, and he rocks his hips as you slide his cock to the back of your mouth.

As much as you like watching him come undone you don’t stay there long. You stand and move back to lay on the bed.

He raises his head, hand moving to his cock to jack himself off. “Am I allowed to touch myself?”

You nod at him. “Kiss my thighs.” It’s a command, and when it’s out of your mouth it seems somewhat ridiculous to make demands of an archangel. You hadn’t thought of that before this moment, but it doesn’t matter, because he’s on the bed with you, leaning between your legs to press a gentle kiss high up on the inside of your left thigh.

“This is kinda stupid, isn’t it.” You say, watching him slowly turn his head to lick and kiss your other thigh.

He raises an eyebrow and runs a palm up the underside of your leg, and then stops it abruptly as he remembers the rules. “How is it stupid?”

You watch him move back and forth between your thighs, hovering his face over the junction, obviously wanting to spend time there but playing along with your game.

“You’re an archangel, it’s not like you have to follow my rules.”

His beautiful eyes raise to look at you.

“You don’t have to follow anybody’s rules,” you say.

“Maybe not,” he holds eye contact as he kisses your thigh again, “but I want to follow your rules. I’ll play any game you wanna play.”

He follows your hand with his eyes as you slide it down and into your folds again, his face just inches away. You wet your fingers and hold them out to him, and when he licks them clean, his tongue soft and gentle on your fingertips, you throw the damn rules out the window.

His face nuzzles into your palm, pressing a kiss there, and you run your hand up into his hair and push his face between your legs. It doesn’t take any coaxing and he buries his tongue licking a stripe up from bottom to top.

You moan, you don’t even try to stay quiet. You can hear him inhale deeply, and then he practically growls as he laps at your swollen clit. You won’t last like this, the heat and pressure of his tongue right where you want it.

He dips his tongue down, teasing inside you, while the tip of his nose nudges at your clit. He’s licking you like candy, like your the best candy he’s ever tasted. “Fuck, Gabe-” you whine, your hands twisting in your bed.

“Mmmm,” he hums, “purr for me, kitten.” He starts circles around your clit, his tongue flat, his breath warm on your skin. He’s not teasing, he’s not playing with you right now, he knows exactly how to make you come and he’s pushing you to the edge.

A coil builds in your belly, tight and hot, twisting and begging for release. When he slides his hands off your hips and up to lightly pinch your nipples the coil finally breaks, and you’re practically screaming as you come. Your hips raise, your eyes clamped shut, your thighs shaking at the intensity of it.

He doesn’t stop, he licks and sucks and teases you through it, and when he knows it’s over and you’re too sensitive, he stops. He turns his head and wipes the wetness from his mouth on your thigh as you try to catch your breath.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he says, his voice lower than normal, “you let me eat that pussy whenever I want and I’ll never need candy again.” He climbs up your body with a look in his eyes like he could really eat you alive. He settles between your legs, his cock heavy as it rests between you. He could push in, but he doesn’t.

He licks your neck, listening to your breathing slow again. “I think I’ve had as much teasing as I can take.” He nips your ear and you hiss.

“Oh yeah?” Your hands trail down his back and onto his ass.

He changes the angle of his hips and the head of his cock slips inside. His face turns into your neck and he makes an unintelligible sound. He sinks inside slowly, your hands working the muscles off his ass.

“Fuck, so wet,” he hits bottom, his arms sliding under your back to hold you, and then he pulls out and slams back in.

You’re sensitive from coming, and you weren’t expecting it, but damn if it doesn’t stretch all the right spots inside you in just the perfect way. Your head tilts back as he does it again, and again, and again. He’s groaning into your ear with each thrust, he can’t even talk dirty to you, he’s so lost in the moment.

“Shit, Gabe-” your nails are digging into his ass and you know it, you try to relax your hands but you can’t make it happen. “I’m gonna come again,” you pant out.

“No, just wait,” the words are strangled, mumbled into your shoulder.

You hear them but you’re not sure you can comply, or why you’d even want to, because you’re getting damn close to reaching that edge again. And then he’s thrusting desperately hard, his hips stuttering and losing rhythm as he comes deep inside you.

“Fuck,” one of his hand fists in your hair, pulling your head to him so he can kiss you hard. He pulls out and you feel empty, and then he breaks the kiss and sits back on his heels, looking you over. “You’re so fucking hot,” he says.

He nudges your thigh and you’re not sure exactly what he wants. Does he want you on your side? Your stomach? You roll slightly and he smack your ass, surprising you.

“Flip,” he instructs.

You bury your face in the sheets as you try to smother a smile. He pulls your ass up and you look over your shoulder in shock. This is a first, is he really going to-

And then he buries his face in between your legs and your head falls down again. Not something you’ve ever had a guy do before, go down on you after they came inside you, but damn if it isn’t hot. “Holy shit,” you try to say, your words muffled by the bed, “that feels amazing.”

He’s teasing your clit, but he’s also sliding his tongue into your entrance, lapping up his come. You can hear him swallowing, and somehow that fact that he’s willing to do this turns you on even more.

His hands are rough as they spread you open, and he’s going at you like never before. “Taste so good,” he says between licks, “love your pussy,” he gently flicks your clit and you whine into the mattress. “Come for me,” he’s licking you like he’s ravenous, his hands digging into your hips.

“Gabe, shit-” you arch your back, rocking your ass on his face, and he nods slightly.

“Yeah, come on,” you feel a hand pull away from your hip and you can feel the motion of him jacking himself off. “So turned on,” he says, nipping your thigh and making you gasp. “Come on my tongue, Sugar. I wanna lick you clean.”

One of your hands reaches behind you, yanking his hair hard and holding his face where you want it. He rolls his tongue around your clit in fast circles and if you could push back into him harder you would. You’d sit on his face and smother him if you wanted to change positions, but you’re too close right now, too desperate to come again.

“Yeah, yes-” you say, your voice louder than you mean it to be. “Just like that.”

He hums, the sound low and vibrating a little through his tongue. Maybe it was meant to be a moan but it doesn’t matter, because now you know why he likes it when you hum with his cock down your throat. That gentle, low vibration, mixed with his tongue swirling in just the right way, it tips you over the edge and you bury your face in the mattress and scream his name.

He abandons you in the middle of your orgasm, your muscles still clenching, and you’re almost angry until he shoves you down and rams his cock inside you. The sound you make is loud and would probably be embarrassing if you cared enough to consider it.

His hands rest his weight on your lower back as he drives into you, and you’re still coming. “Yes, fuck yes-” slapping sounds replace his voice, his cock going deep and fast, and as soon as one orgasm stops another one starts. “Fuck, kitten,” he practically whines, “that pussy’s gonna kill me, so tight on my cock when you come, fuuuck…” the word draws out and you know he’s getting close.

“Fuck me, Gabe, fuck me harder.”

His hands tighten on your back as he slams in and out of you. “Yes, fuck, yes, gonna come,” he chants, “yes, so good, feels so good, fuck,” he buries himself deep, his cock twitching, emptying into you again as he makes a moaning hhhggggnnnnggg sound.

He halfway collapses onto your back, neither one of you able to breathe properly.

“Damn,” you finally say when you’ve caught your breath enough to speak, “I need to tease you more often.”

“Yeah,” he huffs, rolling to your side, “guess I need to misbehave more often.”

You laugh softly, turning your head to look at him. He’s wrecked, his hair standing up, still panting and breathing hard. He halfway attempts to tame his hair but it doesn’t cooperate.

You roll to face him, your hand sliding through the messy locks to smooth them into submission. His arm slips behind your back, ghosting over your skin as he pulls you closer to him.

“Was it the fingerless gloves, does just talking about them get you that turned on? Because I gotta say, that was really fucking hot-”

You slam a hand over his mouth as you bark out a laugh. “Excuse me? No- no way, I think you’ve got a thing for a girl being in control. I think you got so turned on because I made you follow my rules-”

He clamps his hand over your mouth and shakes his head no. Your hand is still over his mouth though, so he can’t fully deny it, and then you see a smile creep into his eyes. The corners of his eyes crinkle and he gives you the tiniest of nods.

You smile back behind his hand, and make a mental note of the fun you’re gonna have with this information.

You both pull your hands away and he kisses you softly, and then sighs as you tuck your head under his chin.

“Want some candy?” He asks.

You jab him in the ribs and he yelps, making you both laugh.

Your phone dings and you lazily roll over to grab it. There are ten text messages from Dean. You cover your mouth and shove the phone at Gabriel, your face ablaze.

Can you keep in down in there, Molly Ringwald. We don’t want to listen to your sexcapades.

Seriously? Are you trying to rub it in that you’re getting some? You’ve never been this loud before.

You guys must have some major 80’s kink happening. Cool it.

Please?

COME ON. I CAN HEAR YOU THROUGH MY NOISE CANCELING HEADPHONES.

Okay, Sam just left. He LEFT. Because he didn’t want to hear you two going at it like animals. Are you ever gonna be done?

Oh thank God, it’s sounds like you’re done.

Are you going again?

Shit. How long do you guys last? Do I need to get a room for a few days?

Please be done.

The phone dings in Gabriel's hand and he turns it to you.

Please tell me you’re done. Please.

You laugh, but you want to crawl in a hole and hide. Your hands cover your blushing face, and then your hear Gabriel typing on your phone and you frantically try to grab it.

“Too late, already hit send.” He smirks as you yank it away from him.

You know you liked it or you would have left with Sam. You jack off to that, Dean-O?

“Oh my God, Gabe!” You didn’t think it was possible to be more embarrassed, but you are. “I can’t believe you text him that! I’ll never be able to look at him again.” You toss your phone away and groan, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes.

Your phone dings. You glance at Gabriel and then your both scrambling to get to it first. You know he lets you win, he could snap it away obviously, but he stands over your shoulder as you open the text to read.

Shut up.

Gabriel starts laughing first, his chest pressed to your back, his arm snaking around your waist from behind. You start laughing a minute later, until your phone dings again.

Did she wear leg warmers?