Archive of Our Own

"Cas, I'm home."

Dean dropped his keys into the bowl near the door, and let his backpack sit against the wall as he kicked his shoes off, and trudged into the passage with heavy footsteps. He was tired. The deadlines at Sandover were coming closer each day, and each day, Dean had to toil harder at his desk. His head ached with the throb of a soon to come migraine, and his muscles had all but gone sore. With a sigh, he walked into the living room, where he could hear the sound of a video game playing. His boyfriend was sure to be there, and Dean hoped Castiel would be able to make him feel better.

Said boyfriend, however, was lying on the couch on his stomach, a headset on his ears, and a console in his hands as he propped himself up on his elbows. Instantly, Dean's eyes wandered down his body, where he was wearing Dean's loose, Black Sabbath t-shirt which slipped down his shoulder and revealed his tempting, glistening neck; paired with what Dean decided were the shortest, tightest, flashiest orange panties. Just the sight of Castiel's ass had Dean growing tighter in his trousers, and damnit, Dean was only human. How could he resist Castiel's ass when it looked like one of the juiciest peaches he'd ever seen?

"—fuck, look to your left—" Castiel growled into his headset, and hissed, annoyed at someone on the screen as he tapped away furiously at his gaming console. Just Dean's life with a boyfriend much younger than him. With a deep breath, Dean stalked forward, careful steps carrying him towards the edge of the couch, where Castiel had his legs held up and floating in the air. Dean leaned forward, and nudged the headset to the side, enough for Castiel's attention to be drawn to it.

"I'm home, Cas," Dean whispered in his ear, and Castiel sent him a half-hearted smile, eyes still fixed on the screen in front of him where 3D knights were being butchered to death. Dean rolled his eyes and pulled away, considering showering, but his eyes dropped down to where the thin fabric of the panties had slipped between Castiel's ass. With a gulp, Dean tore his eyes away and sucked in a deep breath. Castiel was busy. He was playing a video game. Dean would have to keep the sex for later.

But.

Big, peachy round ass. Boyfriend cute. Panties tight.

Fuck it, Dean sighed, and unbuckled his trousers. Besides, his bratty boyfriend was supposed to be happy seeing Dean come home, not waste time away on a video game. The brat needed to be punished. A nice, hard fucking would be sure to put him back in line.

"—a potion, on your right—" Castiel mumbled, and Dean smiled wickedly. The boy would never see it coming. How blissfully unaware he was of Dean pushing his pants down and stepping out of them. So engrossed in his game, he didn't even realise Dean was beating his cock right above him, "—oh, get the sorcerer—"

Castiel continued, barking and hissing into the headset as he stared at the screen, completely oblivious. Dean on the other hand, dug his knee into the couch beside Castiel's plump ass, and the other foot remained grounded on the floor as he grabbed Castiel's sharp hipbones with his rough, sweaty palms, and yanked Castiel's hips up.

At that, Castiel let out a loud yelp, and snapped his head back at Dean— his eyes wide and seething with fury and confusion, until he saw Dean naked from the waist below. And come on, Castiel was a slut. He didn't need it to be written down for him, he knew exactly what Dean wanted to do. His mouth dropped open, ready to protest, but Dean simply cocked an eyebrow at him, which made him shut up with an angry hmph, and turn back to the screen.

"—no, I'm alright," Castiel sighed into the headset, "—yes, keep going. I see a new route open—"

A sharp slap landed on Castiel's ass, and he almost jumped off the couch.

"— Ah—" Castiel moaned, and let his mouth drop open as Dean grabbed a handful of Castiel's ass, and squeezed the juicy flesh in his hand, loving the way he left a bright red imprint on Castiel's skin. With an ass like that, only a fool would be dumb enough to not worship it. Soft, ripe, big and bouncy— Dean could bounce a quarter off of it if he tried. It was lewd, an absolutely perverted fantasy of Dean's, but he had always wanted to fuck someone who had their guard down— someone who wouldn't see it coming. If it was dangerous or not, he didn't know, but then again, everyone had a reckless side.

"Keep playing," Dean growled, as he soaked his middle finger with spit, before slipping it between Castiel's ass and rubbing it over his tiny, pink pucker. With his ass up in the air, face pressed against the couch, and his panties pulled roughly to the side, Castiel looked nothing short of a bitch straight out of a porno, with her legs spread for anyone to come fuck her full of come.

Not many words were exchanged between them, as Castiel moaned into his headset, somehow still managing to continue playing, and it only fuelled the fire in Dean's gut. How could he still be in control of his body? Fucking brat. He needed to be taught a lesson, and Dean was going to teach him one alright. It became a silent challenge— seeing how long it would take for Dean to render Castiel into an uncontrolled mess.

Dean pushed his long, thick finger inside, and coated his spit around Castiel's walls, curling his finger, pressing against his prostate, and fucking it into his needy little hole frantically, as Castiel arched his back and let out another loud, panting moan. He whined, squeezing his thighs together to somehow resist Dean, but Dean simply spread them apart, and added another finger to Castiel's slippery, greedy pink pucker.

"Dean— oh, fuck, right there—" Castiel cried out, and Dean slapped his ass, a nice bright red colour rising on Castiel's skin where the blow landed. Castiel screamed out loud, much to Dean's pleasure, as he scrambled to hold onto the arm rest, gaming console forgotten. "—oh, fuck, yes, yes—"

"You fucking brat," Dean growled, right against Castiel's ear as he yanked his head up by a fistful of hair, "—all you think about is yourself. Don't you think you should be begging for daddy's cock the moment he gets home?"

"I'm sorry daddy," Castiel panted, rocking his hips back against Dean's fingers and fucking himself on them like a useless bitch, "—please, I need your cock, daddy, please fuck me, please—"

"Now we're getting somewhere. Beg for it harder," Dean grit out, and tugged a fistful of Castiel's hair, before slipping his fingers out, and slapping Castiel's ass with a loud, clamouring thwack, which only had Castiel crying into his headset. The headset. Oh. Right. Well. Dean had always liked to put on a show. He didn't bother opening up Castiel anymore. If it hurt, it hurt. It was a punishment, after all.

"Your cock, daddy, please—"

"Please what?"

"Please— please fuck my cunt—"

"Now that's like a good boy."

Castiel whimpered, and raised his ass higher till it brushed right over Dean's cock. Dean grabbed him by his hips, and pressed his large, aching cock against Castiel's tiny, slick hole. With one hand on Castiel's hips and the other guiding his cock inside, Dean sunk into Castiel. Sinking into Castiel's tight, wet heat, and the feeling of holding onto his peachy, ripe ass when fucking into him was a luxury Dean was blessed enough to experience every, single day. The slide of his cock inside Castiel, when he was down on his stomach, was something Dean would never give up for anything. Even when they had missionary, the grip of Dean's hands on Castiel's hips, the pressure of Castiel's legs around Dean's neck— it was nothing Dean had ever felt before. Pure, unadulterated ecstacy.

"Daddy—" Castiel called out, eyebrows furrowed and mouth dropped open, as he clenched his hole around Dean's cock and made his hole tighter for Dean to fuck into. Dean cursed under his breath, a soft fuck, before sinking in to the very hilt, until he couldn't reach any deeper. Castiel's shirt was soaked with sweat as it pooled around his shoulder, and his tiny cocklet trapped within the confines of the orange panties was leaking with pre-come

"Daddy, harder— please—"

"Use your words, Castiel," Dean growled, as he pounded into Castiel's tight, little boypussy, and had him arching his back with every thrust. Dean could feel Castiel's searing hot, moist flesh suck him in deeper, and he let out a staggered breath, feeling his orgasm creeping through his gut as he fucked Castiel.

"More, more, daddy—"

"Say please," Dean warned, and Castiel held onto the armrest of the couch to keep himself steady as Dean pounded him— ruthless and rough, not bothering to care for Castiel anymore as Dean sought his release, and chased the gut-curling sensation of his orgasm bolting through his cock.

"Gonna' come, Cas—"

"Inside me, daddy, I want your come inside my cunt—" Castiel cried out, and bounced his ass back on Dean's cock, taking it in deep— as deep as he could, like a cock-hungry whore, and Dean pounded him, no mercy at all, as he watched Castiel squeeze the couch, and whine, his delicious, breathy moans and his soft, needy cries filling the air as Dean fucked into his tiny, puffy red hole, before jerking inside him, and slamming in. His orgasm struck him at once, and Dean held onto Castiel's waist as he came in thick, hot, white splurts, and flooded Castiel's inside with his seed.

Castiel gasped, his face red and sweaty, and glowing, as he came with a whine of Dean's name. When Dean pulled out at last, come leaked down Castiel's ruined asshole, and he watched as the pucker— now swollen, gaped and fluttered, before guzzling out another load of come.

"Fuck," Dean grumbled, and slapped Castiel's ass, before slipping down on the couch next to Castiel's pliant, loose body. Pants filled the air as they regained their breaths, until at last, Castiel turned back to Dean, reaching back to slip two fingers into his ruined, come-leaking hole, and pushed some come back into his asshole. His eyes were lidded with pure lust, and Dean couldn't believe how vulgarly arousing Castiel looked.

"You stained my favourite panties," Castiel pouted, and slumped down. The next moment, his eyes went wide, and he gaped at Dean incredulously, before his gaze narrowed at Dean. Clean this up, he mouthed, and turned back to look at the screen. He adjusted his headset and console, and sucked in a deep breath.

"—so," Castiel asked into the headset, his voice hoarse from all the moaning, as if he hadn't just been fucked to an inch of his life on a live voice call, "-where were we?"