Hiii Noodle. Would you be up for some Gadreel/Dean nsfw with bottom Dean? :P
A/N: Hohohoooo Merry holidays! I legit had to force myself to stop writing because holy hell dude I love these two so much. Enjoy
Holiday drabbles are open!
Gadreel pulls Dean closer by the nape, relishing in the sound of his breath catching in his throat. The brash machismo Dean so often displays melts away under the angel's touch, instead being replaced with a soft, longing gaze.
Gadreel closes the space between them, pulling Dean into a rough kiss and caressing his ass. He takes in Dean's scent -- irish spring layered in leather and salt -- and pushes his tongue into his mouth, fingers lacing through his hair.
"Damn, missed you too," Dean breathes, groaning as Gadreel licks and sucks on his neck. They exchange soft growls and moans, rutting against each other as they embrace. A few days apart is all it ever takes to drive Gadreel insane. The angel pushes Dean's pants down his thighs, hands greedily squeezing his ass. "Fuck -- mm -- let's get in bed," he groans, flinching as Gadreel slides two fingers between his cheeks.
With a smack of his lips, he releases Dean's skin, offering him a gentle smile. "I can't wait," he whispers, eyes admiring the hickey he left. Dean watches as Gadreel pulls out a sample-sized bottle of lube from his pocket, chuckling breathlessly.
"Impatient bastard," Dean grumbles, biting his lip as Gadreel pulls his cheeks apart, coating his fingers in the lube. Dean rocks his hips back, shivering as Gadreel's fingers push into his hole.
Smirking, Gadreel guides Dean's hand to his throbbing cock, tilting his head. "It seems we're both impatient, my light."
"Nngh -- shut up," he says, stroking Gadreel's cock over his jeans. Of course he's impatient. Dean has been thinking of him all damn day! Hell, it took everything in him not to pounce on him the moment they reunited. Dean fucks himself on Gadreel's fingers, breaths harsh and ragged as his edge approaches. "Fuck I missed you," he moans, leaning his head on Gadreel's shoulder. "Missed feeling you Gad." The angel drags his fingers out of Dean, finally releasing his own cock from his jeans.
"You're being so honest today." He chuckles, gripping Dean's jaw and pressing a chaste kiss against his lips. "Turn around," he coos. Dean eagerly complies, resting his hands on the wall and wiggling his hips. How can somebody be this breathtaking? Gadreel pumps his cock, his free hand sliding up the small of Dean's back. He presses the blunt head of his cock against Dean's hole, humming as he gently nudges forward. Greedily, Dean sucks him in, engulfing the tip of his cock in delicious warmth. The angel rocks his hips back, teasing at Dean's rim before pushing his way back in. He repeats this a few times, drawing out desperate moans from his lover.
Dean's legs wobble as Gadreel continues his tortuously slow pace, his cock twitching with every short thrust. "Come on, stop fucking around," Dean hisses, biting his lip. Humming, Gadreel snaps his hips forward, burying every thick inch of his cock inside of him and forcing out a strangled moan. With this, Gadreel begins fucking him relentlessly, fingers digging harshly into Dean's hips with every thunderous thrust.
"So tight," Gadreel moans, smacking his ass and leaning his weight on his back. "I love you," he breathes, hand grasping Dean's shaft as he speeds up.
"F-fuck -- Gad --" He's cut off by his own mewling moan, eyes rolling into the back of his head as his edge approaches. "Just like that," he breathes, body stuttering as his orgasm rips through him. Dean can't help the moans that escape him. All that falls from him are strings of 'fuck fuck fuck' and Gadreel's name. His legs give out beneath him, and as he crumbles to the ground Gadreel wraps a strong arm around his waist.
"I've got you," he whispers, leaving wet, sloppy kisses along his shoulder blades. Gadreel slows his thrusts, petting Dean's hair as the aftershocks of his orgasm rip through him.
"O-oh my god," Dean purrs, eyes wide as Gadreel resumes his unforgiving pace.
"I'm not done with you yet," he growls, nipping at the Winchester's earlobe.
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You're staring, Izana notices.
He has no idea who you are, really, but you've been trying (and obviously failing) to sneak subtle glances at him the entire time since he stepped into the convenience store. It's starting to throw him off, just a little. For all he knows, you could be a spy from an opposing gang. Not a very good one, though.
Your gaze follows him as he walks towards the cashier and pays, and even as he walks towards the exit, plastic bags in hand. He pays it no mind as he feels it shift off him, the sound of the cashier greeting you the last thing he hears as he steps outside the store.
It didn't seem like you were going to pick a fight with him, he might as well just leave it be.
Besides, any gang that dared to come after Tenjiku would just be mercilessly crushed under his heel. A spy or two wouldn't change that fact.
The clouds above him rumble, dark and heavy, and he frowns, looking up at the cloudy sky. It would be a pain in the ass if it rained while he was in the middle of walking home. Maybe he could call Kakucho to pick him up. Or he could just buy an umbrella from the store right behind him…
The sound of footsteps snap him out of his thoughts, and he glances to the side to see you, head lowered and lips mouthing numbers as you take inventory of the things in your plastic bag. You don't seem to have noticed him, he notes in amusement.
His theory proves true when you look up, done from counting, and nearly jump at the sight of him staring straight at you. Your eyes are wide, the way you freeze reminding him of a prey caught by its hunter, and he can't stop himself from having a little fun.
“You were staring at me quite a lot earlier, huh?” He says, relishing in the way your face flushes with embarrassment, and the way you instantly try (and fail) to school it into a look of nonchalance. “Is there a problem?”
You cough awkwardly, eyes suddenly unable to look at him despite being fully glued onto him just minutes ago. Izana watches you squirm, all too used to these shows of discomfort. Based on most of his past interactions, you'll probably come up with some lame excuse on why you were staring at him, then take the first opportunity you have to run away. Or get defensive, and aggressively deny you were doing anything of the sort. People always act the same when confronted with their actions. Izana's used to the same old song and dance.
He wonders which route you’ll take.
To his surprise, you take neither of them.
You seem to come to a decision, gaze snapping up to him, nervous but suddenly full of what seems like determination.
“There's no problem, I was just staring because–” You falter a little here, cheeks reddening a little again, before you pull yourself together with a quick shake of the head. “Because, well…your eyes.”
“Hm?” That response certainly wasn’t what he was expecting. “What about them?”
“They're beautiful.”
The words are said so plainly, without a trace of any doubt, and Izana is shocked speechless.
While he doesn't deny that he's good looking, the word ‘beautiful’ and any part of him have never been together in the same sentence before. That he's heard of, at least. Even if any of his subordinates had the guts to consider him ‘beautiful’, they definitely wouldn’t have the guts to say it to his face. Granted, you probably don’t have any idea who he is, but still. This is definitely a first.
(And even so, the thought that something about him could be beautiful was something that had never occurred to him.)
“...Really?” The words come out in a whisper before he could stop himself.
You nod vigorously, and once again Izana is thrown off by the fact that it's something you're so sure of. As if the thought of it being untrue has never even crossed your mind.
His response seems to appear to you as an invitation to talk more, as you continue speaking, hesitation fading away with each word that comes out of your mouth. “They're just such a beautiful shade of purple, like amethysts. I've never seen anything like it before. And paired with your long white eyelashes and white hair, you look like someone's painting came to life.”
"I don't know if anyone's told you before, but you're really a sight to behold."
There's a light, pleasant feeling in his chest.
He doesn't know what it is.
“Ah!” You suddenly slap your hands over your mouth. “I spoke too much! God, I must've sounded like a creep, I'm so sorry–”
A laugh cuts you off from your panicked rambling. Izana doesn't quite know why he's laughing, but seeing you panicking over saying the wrong things despite being fully shameless literally right before just seemed so funny, and well, there's such a nice warmth in his chest; indulging in it doesn't hurt, right?
(He doesn’t notice the stars in your eyes as you stare, almost in awe, at his laughing visage.)
“What’s your name?” You’re interesting, he’s decided. It would be a shame to let you just slip away.
“[name].”
He lets out a hum. “[name], huh…got it.”
“Wait.” You call out to him, just as he turns and begins to walk away. “What’s yours?”
He doesn’t notice, but as he turns back, there’s a genuine, serene smile on his face that would’ve shocked even the noisiest Haitani twins into silence at seeing it on the face of the highly feared leader of Tenjiku.
“Izana. Don’t forget it.”
(He’s scolded nonstop by Kakucho when he shows up at home, soaking wet from the heavy downpour outside.
“It’s not like you to be so careless.” Kakucho huffs, drying his hair roughly with all the fierceness of an Asian mom. “You knew it was going to start raining on your way back, why didn’t you just call for one of us to get you from the store?”
Izana hums unconcernedly. “I was already walking away from the store, I couldn’t just stop and turn back.”
“Huh?? Why the hell not??”
“Don’t be stupid, Kakucho. I would’ve looked so uncool.”
“??????”)
(part 2 here!)
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