The whole irony of it was that he wasn’t even shopping for himself. It was his cousin’s bachelorette party and apparently liking men meant he was one of the girls who could attend (don’t even get him started), and when he’d asked Meg (bad idea) what kind of things you even bought or did for that kind of thing, she’d said “I don’t know about you, but we’re getting her a fuckton of sex toys. She’s gonna need ‘em”.
Putting away the mental image of his cousin fucking herself on any of these things (forever, starting right away, thank you), Castiel had figured that he may as well go down the same route. What was the worst that could happen?
But he needed help. Wow. This was one of the least threatening places he’d seen in terms of cleanliness and creep-tasm (which was awesome) but the rows and rows of sex toys, DVDs and “Try it Out!” signs were a little daunting to him. He needed help like yesterday.
"Oh my God! Thank you, Dean, you’re a lifesaver!" Castiel ducked out of the way as a couple a few years younger than him waved their way out of the shop, small, simple black bag in hand.
A man followed them, laughing and waving back. “You kids have fun,” he said, teasing and bright-eyed, and Castiel needed a moment, because of course the shop assistant would happen to be the most beautiful man he’d ever seen in his life. Naturally. God, how could this day get any worse?
Green eyes turned to him, a friendly smile greeted him. “Hey!” the man said, shifting his weight and giving Castiel his full attention. Damn, he was gorgeous, in a black button-down unbuttoned down to his collarbone (Castiel wanted to lick them) and with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows (fuck, he looks like he works out, too, he’d look fucking gorgeous getting fucked from behind), jeans just a little tight accenting the (fuck him) curve of his bowed legs. The rest of him was just as attractive as his face and Castiel was pretty damn certain he’d sacrifice the rest of his pride if it meant he would come into this shop every day to buy something and stare at this man for a few minutes (hours, days, the rest of his life, will you marry me?). “Can I help you with anything?”
Words. Right. Words needed his tongue and his mouth to move okay yeah he’s got this. “My cousin’s getting married,” he blurted out, and the man - “Dean”, his nametag read - blinked at him, before his expression melted back into a friendly, teasing smile.
"Someone sent you here, didn’t they?" he asked with a wink, but turned around and began walked back into the store and Castiel followed behind (that ass, oh shit there was a God and this man was his finest creation).
"Unfortunately I’m sorely lacking when it comes to experience in buying these," he said flatly, and Dean turned around to grin at him again, before stopping in front of a display so suddenly Castiel almost ran right into him.
Fuck, he even smelled good. Not fucking fair.
He turned away before his problem could get any worse, eyeing up the display with a certain sense of foreboding. There were mini rabbits and little egg-shaped vibrators that he honestly couldn’t find a use for, and on the lower shelves were things he assumed were for men, anal plugs and cockrings and things that made him squirm just thinking about them - not for himself, no, but imagining the man beside him trussed up with a cockring on and only allowed to come when Castiel let him -.
"See anything you like?"
It would be so easy. If Castiel was a little more ballsy or a little less awkward he might have even said it. “It’s hard to know what she’ll want,” he replied slowly, eyes narrowed and appraising the display - maybe a little too hard, but anything to keep him distracted from the gorgeous man who was standing just kissing-distance away from him. “Do you have any suggestions?”
Dean was silent for a moment, and when Castiel turned back to him his eyes were almost glittering. Fuck, Castiel didn’t even know eyes could do that. Dean licked his lips (don’t even get him started on the man’s lips) before they spread in a wide, knowing smirk.
"I’ve got just the thing," he said, turning away again. But he didn’t go far (thank God), turning and bending over the edge of of a display counter and rooting around for a few seconds (Goddamnit) before he came back with a plain brown box. There was a serial number on the side but no picture and no name, and Dean handed it to him.
"What is it?" Castiel asked, but took the box anyway.
Dean’s smirk grew. “Do you trust me?”
"I don’t know," Castiel replied, arching an eyebrow. "You’re not the one who’ll get whatever this is thrown at them if it’s weird."
Dean laughed. Even his laugh was fucking gorgeous. Kill him now. Or make Dean drop to his knees, either one will work. “Tell you what,” Dean said, stepping forward and settling a hand on Castiel’s forearm, warm with his fingers spread wide, and Castiel hated the way he shivered at the touch, but loved how Dean’s pupils went wide and a pretty, faint blush spread out along his cheekbones. “You give it to her, and if she hates it, I’ll buy you a drink.”
Castiel licked his lips. His throat felt dry. “And if she loves it?”
Dean’s eyes gleamed, his smile was sharp. “I’ll let you fuck me in the backroom, and then you buy me a drink.”
It was said so casually, but Castiel had to physically stop himself from surging forward and just taking this beautiful man in front of him. This beautiful man who wanted him back. “Deal,” he rasped, and Dean smirked, nodding.
Anna, of course, loved the damn thing, even if Castiel couldn’t quite figure out what it was for from the brief glimpses he got (and the less he thought about it was probably for the better), and he went back the next day to Dean’s shop.
"I owe you a drink," was all he said, watching how Dean’s eyes darkened and his breathing hitched just a little. Even messy and sloppy and cramped in the store’s back storage room, it was the best sex of Castiel’s life.
And, apparently, Dean’s. “Fuck,” the man said when it was over, kissing sloppy and lazy at Castiel’s stubble-lined jaw. “Can I keep you?”
"Only if I get to marry you later."
Dean laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners, and pulled Castiel up for a kiss. “Deal.”
Pairings: Sam Winchester/Gabriel
Word Count: 1.529
Warnings: bdsm (or my attempt at it), spanking, orgasm denial, submissive/dominant rlationship
Summary: In which Gabe and Sam have some sexy times.
A/N: Holy mother of God I am done with this one. Jesus it was hard, I am not good at writing this kind of stuff. I did not proof read this because I couldn’t make myself do it. All mistakes are mine. Anywho X-MAS GIFT FOR ALLISON!!! I hope you like it sweetheart.
Gabriel always feels amazed at how willingly Sam goes to his knees for him. Even after he killed his brother and put them through TVland and a shitload of other things, he still goes to his knees, hands dutifully behind his back and hazel eyes looking eagerly up at him.
If Gabriel didn’t know better he’s say he has some kind of complex, except he’s watched Sam for a long time, still does so when the older Winchester thinks he’s not around and Sam definitely has a power thing.
And that only makes the fact that Gabriel can make him go to his knees just like that much more of a turn on.
That’s what they’re doing now. Sammy on his knees, legs spread and hands bound tight behind his back. They’re in France, he thinks. Can’t be sure though. But France seems like a good guess, in some fancy hotel, five star everything with silk sheets and remote controls that aren’t held together with tape.
That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that Sam Winchester is looking at him through his eyelashes, managing to act all coy and shy and challenging at the same time.
“I’m gonna take good care of you Sammy boy.” He says going around Sam and admiring his very much naked state.
He goes around Sam and kneels behind him, leaning over but not touching - he likes his Sam touch starved – the only point of contact he allows is his fingers tightening the collar around Sam’s throat, the black leather one he chose specifically for his little Sammy. He has the care to slip one finger between the collar and Sam’s neck, making sure he’s not choking him to death.
They’ve done this before. So many times that Gabriel couldn’t possibly count it on his fingers, but it still gives him that rush, that surge of power you’d get from killing an entire village, bounding everyone to slavery. All of that with this one boy in some hotel in France.
Isn’t that just peachy?!
Today he thinks he’ll try a new thing. Sam’s expecting for him to slap him maybe. He likes to do that sometimes. Slap Sam’s ass until it’s nice and red before he makes the Winchester bend over.
Today he decides on something more subtle.
Gabriel sits in front of Sam and grins when the younger man gives him a surprised look, his behavior clearly throwing him off.
“You’ve been such a good boy for me, haven’t you?” he praises tilting his head just slightly, gaging him for a reaction.
Sam bites the inside of his lip.
“I want to try something and you’ll let me, won’t you?”
Sam frowns slightly but nods.
“Good. That’s my good boy.” He praises again, because that gets Sam going too “Let’s call it a game, shall we?”
Sam nods again. Eyes intent on him.
Gabriel grins wide, getting up to get the vibrator he has on top of his bed. The remote control one, before he walks around Sam again, one had on the middle of his shoulder blades and forcing him to bend over, praising him when he does.
The archangel grabs one of Sam’s cheeks and spreads him open, delighted to see how loose his little Sammy is for him. He knows better than to make Gabriel do it himself. Especially in times like this when Gabriel prefers to jump to the main event.
He carefully slips the vibrator inside, gauging Sam’s face for signs of too much pain. The Winchester hisses but he looks good it’s more the shock than anything else.
“Good boy, taking all of it up for me.”
Gabriel presses a kiss to the top of Sam’s spine, straightening him back up and letting the boy wiggle until he gets comfortable.
“Now, now, Sammy. Do you want to see how this little toy works?” he pipes up, sitting in front of Sam, close enough that he could reach out and touch him.
Gabriel shows the little remote to Sam before turning it on.
The reaction is immediate, Sam sucks a sharp intake of breath, back arching just the slightest and eyes going wide as the toy buzzes and then Gabriel takes it up another notch, because he can and this time little Sammy bites back a moan. He isn’t allowed to talk. Not yet.
“Hush, be quiet.” he admonishes lightly.
Sam is a mess in front of him, legs spread wide, body shuddering in regular intervals as he tries to thrust forward into something, anything. He can’t talk, so he turns wide eyes at Gabe, mouth slight open and panting as the toy works him higher and higher.
“What’s your name?” Gabriel prompts “You may talk now.”
“Sam Winchester.” He breathes out, hips making little aborted movements.
“Where were you born?”
“Law-“ Gabriel cranks it up one notch, the moan Sam lets out his absolutely filthy, pre-come leaking steadily from his dick now.
“Answer my question.” Gabriel demands.
Sam moans again, jerking his hips forward.
“Sam.” Gabriel barks, voice splitting the air like thunder, all the power of Godly wrath behind it.
“Law-ohhhh-rence.” He pants hard, eyes unfocused and body sizing up.
“Good boy.” Gabriel beams at him, standing up and thrusting one hand through Sam’s hair, petting him sweetly, before clutching a fistful of air in his hand and jerking his head back.
Sam grits his teeth and Gabe knows he’s close. He’s incredibly close, one final shove and he’ll topple over the edge.
Gabriel turns the thing off completely getting a whine from Sam as the Winchester’s body tries to catch up with the change of pace.
“Gabe.” He whines.
Gabriel tightens his hand in Sam’s hair “Did I ask you something?” he snarls, getting a jerky shake of head in return “Guess we’ll have to deal with this won’t we?” he asks, getting up close on Sam’s face.
Sam whimpers but shuts up.
Gabriel’s lips curl into something a little vicious as he materializes a ridding crop in one hand.
“Four letters.” He whispers, holding four fingers up to Sam’s face and wiggling them.
Gabe shoves Sam hard, making him lose his balance and fall face first on the floor, banging his head, Gabriel healing him from that distraction. He presses the little button that starts the toy again, turning it on the lowest setting.
Sam groans in the back of his throat, eyes blinking fast and trying to look back over his shoulder at Gabe. Good. He wants him to see this.
Gabriel adjusts his grip on the ridding crop, bracing one hand on the small of Sam’s back before making it come down and slap Sam on the ass hard, a red welt forming where it hits.
“One.” He counts, before doing it again, a little bit harder, because if there is a thing he knows is that Winchesters are gluttons for punishment and Sam is no different.
He does it again, this time producing a little whimper from the Winchester.
He draws his hand back and puts as much force behind this one. Not archangel force, of course, but as much as his vessel has.
The riding crop smacks loudly on Sam’s ass, the biggest red welt yet painted on the Winchesters cheek.
Sam whimpers, but doesn’t say anything beyond that.
“Four. Such a good boy, my Sammy.” He praises smacking his ass lightly, grinning when Sam shudders.
“Let’s try it again, shall we?” he prompts, gripping Sam’s shoulder and righting him.
“What’s your name?
“Sam Winchester.” He manages to get out, eyes dazed and eyelids almost closed.
Sam slides the toy one notch higher and then another.
“Where are you from?”
“Law-rence.” He chokes out on a moan.
“Spell that out for me.” He demands.
Sam groans “L-A-W” he wiggles around, hips thrusting forward and whimpering with the lack of contact “R-E-N-C-E.”
“Good boy.” He praises, reaching his hand and combing his fingers through Sam’s hair “Last one I promise, baby.” He whispers in his ear softly “What’s my name?”
He times it perfectly, waits for Sam to open his mouth and slides the toy the final notch up, reaching around Sam and fisting him quickly.
“GABRIEL!” he Winchester shouts coming as hard as Gabriel as ever seen him do.
Gabe grins madly, turning the toy off and guiding Sam through his orgasm, whispering praise in his ear while the Winchester shudders and pants hard, coming down from his high.
“Such a good boy, Sammy, my good boy.” He babbles, letting the remote flicker out of existence along with the toy, before he unties Sam. He leaves the collar though.
Gabriel helps him get up, pressing kisses on his neck and the shoulder blades when Sam’s back on his feet on shaking legs.
“Such a good boy.” He continues babbling because after something like that sometimes Sam feels ashamed or insecure and Gabriel has to make sure he doesn’t want that, so they can do it again.
He leads him to the bed and lets Sam fall on the soft mattress.
Sam blinks dazedly at him “Good?”
Gabriel smiles and kisses him on the wrist.