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#spn fanfictipn
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Fever (NSFW)
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Summary: After being tasked to watch Gadreel for the night, you find that the ratty motel you're both sharing doesn't have a heater. It's a terribly frigid winter night, and your only source of heat seems to be the ex-angel. 
Pairing: human!Gadreelxreader
Other characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester 
Rating: NSFW
Warnings: language, unprotected sex, size kink, getting caught, PWP
Word count: 2200+
A/N: I FINALLY FINISHED THIS. You don't know how long this simple fic took me, y'all. But I did it, pals, I DID IT! (p.s. as a Minnesotan, I have a right to hate my state bahaha enjoy!)
“They only had one double,” Dean says, holding out a set of keys to you. "Gad's gettin' the couch." Huffing, you snatch the keys from him, nodding.
“Whatever,” you say, adjusting your duffle bag over your shoulder. Dean stares at you silently, and you purse your lips, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “Well, see you tomorrow –”
“Gad's off-limits,” Dean blurts. Your eyebrows shoot up, words lost to you. “I'm serious. I see how you look at 'em. It's not happening.”
“I could've sworn that I'm a grown-ass woman –”
“Yeah well, he still took Sam's body for a joyride. Until we can trust 'em, keep it in your pants,” he grumbles, eyes training on something behind you. You turn as Gadreel pulls your duffle bag from your shoulder, smiling. He smiles in return, nodding to the door. Your smile fades as you watch the snowfall, cursing under your breath. Taking a deep breath, you sprint out of the check-in booth, running to your room with your room key drawn. Why the hell didn't you bring a jacket?!
“Shit,” you hiss, rushing into the motel room and rubbing your arms with a shiver. You look over your shoulder, clenching your jaw. Gadreel slowly makes his way to the room, rummaging through your duffle bag. “Hey,” you say, stiffening as a freezing breeze chills at your skin. He pauses in the threshold, continuing to rummage through the bag. “Dude,” you grunt, teeth chattering. He hums in response, remaining still in his place.
“Yes?”
“Get in here!” you snap, making him look up at you. “I-it's freezing,” you say as you grab his forearm.
“Right, you don't like the cold. I apologize,” Gadreel says, smiling sweetly and allowing you to lead him in. No matter how much time goes by, you'll never get used to these mid-western winters. Plopping down on the bed, you wrap the stiff motel blanket around yourself, trying to stop yourself from shaking. “I thought my blade was in your bag...”
“I-I didn't s-see it,” you say, rubbing your hands together frantically as you lay on your side.
This is how you die.
Not by vampires, or curses, or any other thing you face every week. No, a brisk Minnesota winter is the thing that takes you out. Who the hell moves here on purpose?! You scan your eyes around the room for a heater, cursing under your breath. Next time, you're going to a place with proper god damn insulation.
Gadreel pulls his leather jacket off, shooting you a sympathetic look. You return his look with a glare, lips poked out in a pout. “How are you not freezing?”
“I'm generally quite hot,” he mumbles, rubbing his nape. You glance up at him, nodding to yourself. Yeah, he is. You inadvertently trail your eyes over his form, quickly turning your eyes away when he looks at you. This is basically babysitting. You watch him when the Winchester's can't be bothered. Only watching, nothing more. You repeat this in your mind over and over, willing yourself to stop ogling him. Setting down the duffle bag, Gadreel sits down next to you, resting a hand on your calf. You look down at him, furrowing your brow. Heat radiates off of him like a furnace, and your body stops shivering almost instantly.
“Shit, you weren't lying,” you chuckle, rubbing your thighs together. “Holy crap, this is so much better.”
“Well, in that case.” Smiling, he lays behind you, and you stiffen, heat rushing to your cheeks. “How is this?” he asks. You nod silently, cursing Dean's voice in your head. Be responsible. Be smart. Keep your distance. You roll your eyes at the thought of his and Sam's disappointment, allowing your eyes to bat shut. Gadreel drapes an arm around you, pulling you impossibly close. The gentle rising and falling of his chest makes your body relax further, and soon, you're slumped against him, slipping into a peaceful sleep.
…....
Your eyes snap open abruptly, a deep frown on your face. You shift in your place, halting when you feel warm, solid muscle against your back. Looking over your shoulder, you're met with Gadreel's sleeping face.
Shit.
You try to retrace the night. It was cold as fuck. Gadreel, on the other hand, was warm. Ah, right. You passed out. To be fair, coming back from being chased by a pack of werewolves would leave anyone exhausted. At least, that's what you keep telling yourself. As you silently recount the night, the cause for you waking up becomes blatantly apparent. Something hard is poking into your back. Huffing, you elbow him. “Hey, move your angel blade,” you whisper. He stirs, pulls you closer, and goes back to his rhythmic breathing, making it poke you harder. “Jesus,” you grumble, reaching back and feeling around. When you finally find whatever the hell it is that's stabbing into you, you grip it tightly. To your surprise, Gadreel lets out a startled moan, quickly pulling out of your grasp and sitting up. You stay frozen in your place, heart pounding.
“Sorry,” he mumbles sleepily, rubbing his eye. “I'm still adjusting to my human body,” he adds.
Warm, throbbing, and thick. You somehow managed to memorize the feel of his shaft within the one second you gripped it. Heat builds in your core, and you curse yourself, trying to keep your mind from drifting to non-platonic places. “I-it's ok...sorry I grabbed...your...” You let your voice trail away, wrapping the blanket around yourself tighter as you remember the feeling of it once more. The bed creaks underneath his weight, and you frown, turning to him. “Where you going?” you ask, frowning deeper when he gestures to the small armchair in the corner. “But it's still freezing in here!” you blurt, cursing the whine in your voice. Gadreel scratches his arm, shifting in his place. “Please?” you add. With this, he's climbing back into the bed, lying flat on his back. Even in the dark, you can see the petrified look on his face. Before you can speak, he's turning to you.
“I don't want to disrespect you,” he says, eyes shifting rapidly. “It won't happen again.”
You shake your head, looking at him over your shoulder. “It's not disrespectful, it's natural,” you say. Gadreel goes silent, an impossible to read expression crossing his face. Finally, after many moments, he looks at you, furrowing his brow.
“So, it's ok that I'm aroused by you?” he asks, making your throat run dry. You stutter over unformed sentences, a million thoughts rushing through your head. Reluctantly, you nod, biting your lip. “Then I shouldn't feel ashamed?”
“Hell no, you're blessed,” you say, laughing awkwardly. Gadreel leans up on his elbows, and you turn to face him, heart pounding in your chest.
“Blessed?”
“Yeah it's...big,” you say, gesturing to the air. “And a lot of people...like big dicks,” you add. He nods, eyes locked on his crotch. By the grace of God, you manage to keep your eyes on his face.
“Why?” he asks, tilting his head. You open your mouth to talk, trying to figure out which moment in life led you to explaining what a size kink is to an angel.
“Because it feels good – or looks good – or I guess people like the feeling of being full,” you say, squeezing your thighs together. He hums, trailing his eyes over your form.
“Do you like them big, Y/N?” he asks, his voice deep and purring. You stare at him silently, giving him a reluctant nod with a shuddered breath. “Hm.” Gadreel leans over you, grazing his fingers along your cheek with wide and wondering eyes. He takes you in, feature by feature as if he's trying to memorize your face.
It's hard to say who initiated it.
One moment, you're both silently asking 'Is this ok?', and the next, you're pressed against each other, sharing hungered kisses as you both grab greedily at each other. He pushes between your thighs, his hard cock twitching against your core as you roll your hips up against him. Running your fingers through his hair, you pull him impossibly close, tongue pushing into his mouth as you deepen the kiss. God, he's perfect. His scent, his warmth, the feeling of his weight on top of you. It's all driving you insane. Gadreel pulls out of the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck, hands running under your shirt, and palming at your breasts. You make quick work of unhooking your bra, sucking in a breath as he presses his mouth over your nipple, his tongue swirling and his free hand kneading your other breast. He leans up on his knees, unbuttoning his jeans with his eyes locked on you. You're slack-jawed by the time he frees his length.
It's monstrous.
Thick and long, with a single vein running down the side. You wonder to yourself if it would fit in your mouth, let alone your sex. Your juices coat your panties, relieving any doubt in your mind. Gadreel strokes his cock lazily in his hand, running his tongue along his lips.
“Maybe you should take those off,” he says teasingly, gesturing to your jeans. You shake out of your trance, pulling your jeans and panties down your thighs. Immediately, the chill of the room tingles at your skin, and you pull him down against you, gaining a startled grunt.
“Still freezing,” you say, gaining a chuckle in return. Gadreel wraps your legs around his waist, eyebrows shooting up as his length slides against your slit.
“You're already this wet for me, Y/N?” he breathes, slipping his cock between your folds, eyes dark with lust. You respond with a kiss, nibbling at his lip and rolling your hips. You moan as the head of his cock slides back and forth over your clit, squeaking as he finally finds your entrance.
As the blunt head of his cock nudges against your entrance, you let out a squeak, fingers digging into his shoulders. “Holy shit,” you breathe, clenching your walls as the head of his cock pushes into you.
He pauses, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. “I won't hurt you,” he whispers, pressing another gentle kiss against your lips as he pushes in deeper. Inch by inch, he stretches you out further than you've ever been stretched, and soon only incoherent sounds come from you. He doesn't try to hide his pleasure. No, instead he curses and moans your name, mouth gaped in pleasure as he's engulfed in your warmth. He gives you a short thrust, gently caressing your cheek before finding a steady rhythm. You wrap your arms around his neck, thighs clenching around his waist as he slowly fucks into you.
“Nngh – you're so tight,” he moans, fingers digging into your thighs as he quickens his pace. You cry out, body arching up as his hips smack against you. His thunderous thrusts shake the bed, smacking against the wall with each movement. It's only at this moment that it dawns upon you: Sam and Dean are in the room next over.
“Wait,” you squeak, bracing his arms. He stops immediately, cradling your face with a look of concern. “Th-they might...hear,” you whisper, nodding to the wall. He hums, gently placing a hand over your mouth.
“Problem solved,” Gadreel says, smacking his hips forward. Soon, he's back to his previous pace, his cock slamming into you as pleasure overtakes him. Your moans are trapped in your chest, eyes rolling back in pleasure as your edge quickly approaches. “Y/N – fuck –” He cuts himself off with a guttural groan, eyes squeezed shut tight. Your walls clench around him as your orgasm finally takes over. Arching off the bed, you drag your nails down his arms, screaming in pleasure as he continues fucking into you. Gadreel replaces his hand with his lips, swallowing your moans as you ride out your release. The moment is cut short by the door being kicked in. You stare in horror as Sam and Dean rush in, guns drawn. Gadreel leaps away from you, eyes wide.
“You ok – holy shit!” Dean squeaks, immediately shielding his eyes and stumbling back. Sam follows suit, closing his eyes and turning away from you. “Sorry – fuck – Jesus –”
“Out!” you scream, making the Winchester's rush out of the room.
The night ended as quickly as it began. You both were a little too scarred to keep going, so you decided that cuddling would have to suffice. 
You walk stiffly to your car, avoiding Dean's burning glare and fishing out your keys. Even on a bright sunny day, it's bone-chilling. You shiver as you slide into your car, rubbing your hands together with a groan. “Fuck this state,” you growl, flinching as your passenger door is flung open. Gadreel sets your duffle bag in the passenger seat, leaning down and offering you a smile. “Shit, th-thanks,” you say, pushing your key into the ignition. He nods, staring at you silently as you start your car. You meet his gaze, smiling sheepishly. “Last night was...amazing,” you say, flicking your eyes away from him.
“Next time will be better,” he says, shooting you a wink before slamming the door shut. You watch as he walks to the Impala, biting your lip.
“Until then,” you mumble under your breath, grinning and pulling out of the parking lot.
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