Castiel’s voice was hushed, dark and strained against Deans extra sensitive ear.
Dean whined and rocked back against Castiels warm cock. “M-me, hmng, I-I am C-…Cas…”
He wasn’t used to this, this feeling of being filled to the brim. Usually, he was the one doing the filling–Castiel’s heat was and intoxicating sensation–but he’d been curious and had asked Castiel if he could try it, just once.
(He had been so cute when he asked, blushing and swishing his tail nervously against his legs; there was no possibility Castiel could say no.)
Castiel chuckled once and shifted his hips. At Deans insistence, he’d left his bright red cape draped over his shoulders when he’d shucked the rest of this clothes.
When Dean came, it was with a howl, but only Castiel heard (which was perfectly fine with both of them.)
Look at me, writing porn for m-arci-a. I’m trying to convince her of the truth that is bottom dean.
Scene - Dorm room. Time? Afternoon, right before dinner. Jinx lay on her bed, staring up at her phone as she fed her digital cats. Her homework lay strewn all over the floor, pages and pages of work that she had scribbled on. A text notification beeped at her, sending her onto her stomach with a contended sigh. “Oh, Fathands, what do you need now?”
>hey dumbass i just joined Pi Theta Omega they want me to do something that’ll get my name in the newspaper 😂 <and?? you asking for me to help you? 😇 >yeah no shit i’m omw back you better have ideas when i get there <w/e cya
She flopped onto her pillow, hair splayed on her sheets - freshly washed, mind you. A few well-cuddled plushies lay around the young woman, their patches a sign of much care - a stark contrast to the sleek silver gleam of her computer desk, a modern touch in an otherwise rustic styled room. At least, her half of the room was styled. The other half, well…
A mixture of punk, rock, punk-rock, post-rock punk, post-punk rock, and something that looked like a preppy Solbucks drinking white girl’s worst nightmare of a bed. Vi’s side of the room was neat, in a messy way. Messy in a neat way. Organised chaos, a systemized mess that seemed to work for the wrestler.
Her fingers flitted along her hextech phone, a grin starting to spread on her face as a plan formed in her diabolical brain. While robbery was technically illegal, there was nothing in the rulebooks about temporarily borrowing, and there was a certain new statue being displayed in the public library this weekend…
<btw you srsly owe me for this idea its like my best one yet 😎😎😎 >we’ll see about that nerd 💩