Anonymous asked: SPN, Castiel/Naomi/Balthazar, pet!play. Castiel is Naomi’s best and favourite pet, but Balthazar still has a lot to learn.
Behind a cut for dubcon and power games.
Anonymous asked: Generation Kill: Brad/Nate - Feathers are good for teasing.
Brad rolled over, rising groggily out of sleep to the annoying feeling of something poking him through the pillowcase; he pulled a small goose feather from the pillow, spinning it between his fingertips in the low light while 03:17 flashed on the bedside clock.
Nate puffed a hard breath out his nose, then his hand came up to brush across his nipple, and then he rolled onto his side to get away from Brad and his feather. Brad smiled and carried on undeterred, stroking the tickling feather down the line of Nate’s spine and following it with a brush of his lips as he breathed in Nate’s sleepy scent. He circled Nate’s hip bone, and then Nate was awake.
“Brad,” he said in a cautioning tone, but Brad didn’t let him finish that thought before he abandoned the feather in favor of more direct contact, forming himself to Nate’s back as his hand wrapped around Nate’s soft cock, because 3 AM was never too early for this.
Anonymous asked: Spn, Growley, fingering
Crowley’s not a man undone easily, but if you give him a little less than what he wants and keep teasing him with promises of more, he can be driven to savagery. Usually that’s not a good game to play with the King of Hell, but here, with this angel and in this way, it’s delightfully entertaining for them both.
Gabriel’s finger circles, slides, darts forward and back again, and Crowley tries to thrust backward, to force it deeper, but Gabriel’s light-quick and too smart to let Crowley have anything he wants too easily. He wants to hear Crowley beg for it, and too soon he is, muttering pleas between curses and incoherent groans as he’s toyed with. His mouth purses, and he presses forward, looking for a kiss; but Gabriel just laughs and teases his rim with a second finger, palm cupping his ass cheek, holding Crowley in his sway like no one ever has and watching as the King of Hell devolves into a pleading beggar before his eyes.
Anonymous asked: Skyfall, 00Q, 007 thinks Q talks too much.
“And frankly, your strategy was terrible. I am surprised the enemy didn’t see you coming a mile away, the way you barged in like that. You had best count yourself lucky that—“ Bond clapped a hand over Q’s mouth mid-sentence, and he could practically see the anger steaming from his ears, but he didn’t care; Q had been harping at him ever since he had gotten back, and despite knowing it was out of his concern for him, it was grating on his bloody nerves.
“Why don’t you shut that mouth? Or better yet…” Bond grinned and pulled his tie from his neck with his free hand; Q could have easily smacked him away, but Bond knew that he was just as interested as he was in what he had planned. Removing his palm from Q’s lips, he turned him around and tied the silk around his mouth, tight enough to restrain his speech and sting ever so uncomfortably. “You like that? Q nodded, and Bond set to work on him, sliding his hands beneath Q’s shirt and teasing his nipples, his cock pressing insistently into Q’s thigh. “See now, isn’t this much better?” Q couldn’t say, but the groans and gentle whines coming from behind the tie seemed convincing enough.
Anonymous asked: SPN, Jensen/Misha, consensual d/s play, Misha’s got a dildo and 5 minutes to get himself off or he doesn’t get to come at all tonight.
He’s got a dildo, but he’s not sure at the moment whether to stick it inside himself or to just use it to deliver stimulation directly to his cock; the former takes longer, but the latter can chafe. In the end, Misha opts for a sweet compromise: he slides it in about three-quarters of the way and rocks on it wantonly, pressing his body forward like a lever to push his balls back against the base. Fuck, the vibrations are good, and when Misha grasps his cock in one hand the feeling shoots through him like raw electricity, rocketing him up toward orgasm almost immediately.
Sure, he’s gonna be winded when he’s done with this, but better to recover and then get more than to be denied all night long. Especially with Jensen smiling at him the way he is, and it’s a glance at Jensen’s smile, patient and a little sadistic but all pleasure and the promise of more, that sends Misha spiraling into a holy-fucking-crap-that’s-so-hot-it-hurts orgasm just under the four-minute mark.
Anonymous asked: Generation Kill, Rudy/Pappy, Rudy may be the ‘big man’ but he melts under Pappy’s skilled hands.
Pappy’s fingers were always calloused, and they’d scratch as they went across Rudy’s skin. Pap started things with some muttered excuse about helping Rudy to stretch after a he’d taken Rudy’s punches on the focus pads; his own palms were probably sore after the beating Rudy had dealt out, but he didn’t say anything as he gently pulled Rudy’s arms back, making the pain of the stretch spread across his shoulders and upper chest. It felt good and Rudy groaned when Pappy guided him to the mat, pushing his knees up to stretch his glutes; and it felt good to feel Pappy’s obvious interest pressing against him as he used his body weight to stretch Rudy further. Rudy leaned up and laid a soft kiss on Pappy’s thin line of a mouth, drawing a smile to make Pappy’s moustache twitch and his eyes finally focus on Rudy’s. They knew each other so well by now — training, fighting, living out of a humvee together — and Rudy let his knees fall open knowing he could trust his brother to take care of him in any way that Pappy thought right.
Anonymous asked: Superlock. Sherlock/Dean. Dean’s getting tired of Sherlock being a mouthy know-it-all all and decides to put the detective’s mouth to better use.
“What’s the 10-4, good buddy?” Dean said, stepping out of the Impala and sidling up to Sherlock where he stood looking over the body. “Are those werewolf claw marks?”
Sherlock looked up, straight ahead, and then turned to Dean as if the “good buddy” comment personally offended his Englishness. “They are certainly not werewolf injuries. I thought you were the best hunter in this country,” Sherlock replied.
Dean’s eyebrows almost found his hairline. “Alright, you freakin’ limey know-it-all. Get in the car. It’s time for a little research of the Dean Winchester variety.”
Sherlock’s little smirk wasn’t lost on Dean thirty minutes later as Dean knelt above his chest, jerking himself off across Sherlock’s pink lips… and, fuck, if it wasn’t obvious that Sherlock had goaded him into this all along.
Anonymous asked: Skyfall, 00Q, Q proves to 007 that just because he’s young doesn’t mean he’s inexperienced.
“You know, for someone so experienced, you’re pretty naïve.” Q could see the look of disbelief on Bond’s face as he pulled his mouth away from his cock with a vulgar pop of his lips; he hadn’t expected him to be so good at it, he knew, and he also knew it was because he saw him as a child despite being well within the bounds of adulthood. Bond clearly didn’t know what hormonal university students did in their spare time, and Q—well, Q had made sure that he had been the best, as he did with everything else.
“That…you…” Bond was speechless, fumbling for some sort of gritty stoic reaction and finding none; Q quietly thanked the God he didn’t believe in for that—really, his commentary could get a little old.
“That’s only the start of it, you know. You think you have it in you to see what else I can do?” Q grinned and crawled up to Bond’s eye level, slowly sinking his hips down so that his ass just grazed Bond’s cock, already stirring again beneath him. Before he could laugh at Bond’s condition he was turned face-down into the pillows, Bond’s hands roaming all over his body, kissing and biting with a new fervor. “I take that as a yes.”
Anonymous asked: SPN. Lucifer/Gabriel. Lucifer holds a meeting with some high ranked demons. Gabriel blows him from under the table.
For years afterward, the demons would still argue over whether Lucifer had been at his kindest or most evil during that meeting: he’d hissed “yes” more often than “no,” but through gritted teeth, and his knuckles had been white on the table as he clutched it as though trying to keep control of his temper. Some said he’d been fighting the impulse to grant too much leniency, while others said he’d just barely been containing his urge to lash out and cut the throats of the demons who sat across him; only Lucifer himself knew the truth.
Lucifer, and the angel whose scent had been masked in the odors of sin and lust that usually permeated a demonic council meeting.
Each “yes,” they both knew, came as a result of Gabriel’s tongue sliding along Lucifer’s shaft, wet and sinful; each grasp of the table was a result of Gabriel pursing his lips and sucking pulses into the head of Lucifer’s cock, of his fingertips fluttering along the sensitive skin of Lucifer’s sac, warm and chills-inspiring at once, and then sliding upward to grip the base of his cock. And when Lucifer had to close his eyes and grit his teeth, it had nothing to do with the demands the demons across the table were making; he just had to wait out the orgasm that was burning through him and sucked up into Gabriel’s greedy mouth before he could go on with the business as usual of running Hell.
Anonymous asked: Generation Kill: Ray/Lilley/Walt - Lilley films Walt’s BDSM kink.
“Action,” Lilley said, trying to hold the camera steady as he got up all gonzo on Walt’s ass; shit, he could see the outline of Person’s fingers on Walt’s skin and this was kind of more than he bargained for even from these kinky fuckers. He spun the camera to Walt’s face when Walt cried out in a mixture of relief and pain and groaning pleasure; fuck if Lilley knew where to point the camera when Walt’s face was all red like that and his dick was leaking onto the bedspread and Ray was methodically torturing the shit out of Walt’s body like SERE Gone Wild, Lake Havesu-style. It was seriously fucked up and seriously fucking up Lilley’s certitude that he only liked pussy.
“Hey, Jason. You want in?” Ray asked with a grin and a slow pull of his dick that Lilley watched through the viewfinder; Lilley tripped backward onto the edge of the bed, still trying to keep things in focus. “Get on him, Walter. Now or I’m getting out the belt.”
Lilley watched Walt’s eyelids flutter as he sank his hole down on Lilley’s dick, and he blindly turned the camera on his own face when Ray started pushing in alongside.
