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Subway Slut.
The subway was a place Castiel had never found inviting. It reeked of sweat, vomit and men's cologne, and on a Friday evening especially, it was jam-packed with people. Mothers consoling crying toddlers, grumbling old men shouting at someone who bumped into them, corporate slaves hoping to get a moment of silence, and then there was Castiel, on his way back home from his internship, a boring, sexually-frustrated 18-year-old crowded into the spot at the very corner of the compartment. And then there was the bastard infront of him, who had been crashing into him every five seconds, and muttering a futile apology.
The crowd seemed to have been disturbed, and the man crashed into Castiel again, but this time— he didn't move back. Annoyed and at his limit, Castiel looked up to the man, who had startling bright green eyes, which seemed weary with exhaustion, and short, spiky blondish hair. He was clad in a suit and tie, and Castiel sighed, poor guy, but he couldn't resist how gorgeous the man was. All lean, toned muscle stretching against his suit; stubble dotting his jaw, plush, feminine pink lips, and a tempting, sweaty neck. He stunk of men's cologne, but it was bearable, and Castiel felt his gut coil with arousal as the man raised an eye brow at him.
Ashamed at having been caught staring, Castiel gawked, and turned his tomato-red face down to his shoes. From the corner of his eye, Castiel watched as the man smirked, and puffed his chest out in an unabashed show of dominance.
There was no space left between them anymore, and Castiel had been pinned against the corner of the wall, with the man pressed into his chest, not leaving an ounce of distance between them. Fucking pervert. He was having fun with it, wasn't he? Pressing into Castiel, accidentally brushing their hands together, making Castiel squirm— what a sick fucking creep.
The crowd shuffled again, and this time the man pressed into Castiel completely shamelessly. He leaned his face into Castiel's shoulder with a dirty, sly grin, pressed his crotch against Castiel's, and held onto Castiel's waist with his broad, warm palms. His breath stunk of alcohol and cigarettes, and he sucked in the air Castiel had let out. Disgust coursed through Castiel's body. Disgust, shame, fear. In the man's green eyes, was a brazen lewd expression— predatory almost, as if he wanted to rip Castiel apart into pieces.
A hand cupped over Castiel's crotch, and he let out a soft moan, eyebrows furrowing as he held onto the man's shoulder. The man chuckled darkly in his ear, before muttering a deep, rumbling, "slut". In those moments, however, with his knees spread apart by the man's thigh, and a strange hand rubbing at his tiny, clothed cock, Castiel had never felt more vulgar. Maybe it was because something about the man not caring about whether Castiel wanted it or not, simply giving it to Castiel, taking control of him— it was turning Castiel on.
Another moan spilled past Castiel's lips, and he let his eyes roll to the back of his head as he arched his back into the man's disgustingly perverted touch. The hands at his cock slid to the waistband of his jeans on his back, and thick, long fingers dipped inside.
Castiel's eyes flew open wide, only to find the man panting, his face buried in the crook of Castiel's neck, sucking a deep, purple hickey onto his young, supple skin as his finger rubbed down Castiel's taint, and the sweat had made it's way smoother.
Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting, disgusting, disgusting, disgusting—
Castiel was a disgusting slut who loved having his ass fingered by a stranger's fingers.
"Want more?" the man growled, and Castiel whimpered softly, hoping not to attract any attention towards them— but it was a lie. Oh, how Castiel wished everyone would watch him be fucked by a stranger's hand, how he spread his legs open for a stranger like a dirty little whore.
One finger became two, and they rubbed over Castiel's tiny, pink hole, pushing in without any warning, as Castiel gasped, and held onto the pervert's shoulders.
"Tight cunt," the man panted into Castiel's ear, and Castiel realised, the man was touching himself, beating his large, red cock to the sound of Castiel moaning.
"How old are you?"
"Eighteen," Castiel breathed out, and the man shoved in another finger. Excitement twinkled in the man's eyes, and Castiel felt guilt course through him at what he was doing, but he couldn't bring himself to resist it.
"Tight little teen cunt. Man, I got lucky," he laughed under his breath, and his fingers pounded into Castiel's dry pucker, the only thing giving a fraction of smoothness being the sweat between Castiel's ass. Castiel bit his lip, arching off the wall behind him into the man's touch, as the pervert panted into his shoulder and fingered his greedy, quivering hole. Oh god, oh— Castiel's gut tightened, and he felt his orgasm creep to his cock. No, no, no, he couldn't walk with a come stain on his jeans, but the pervert in front of him made no effort to take responsibility.
"I'm going to come, oungh, Mister—"
"Did I ask you to speak, bitch?"
"But I—"
"Go on then, cream yourself," the man growled, and his fingers fucked frantically inside Castiel, blasting him at a pace that was impossible to not come to. Castiel's mouth fell open and he squeezed the man's shoulder, before gasping as he felt his cock twitch and come, a damp spot spreading across the front of his jeans.
The wet fingers in his ass slipped out, and instead, Castiel watched as the man came into his hand with a hard, low grunt, and his come coated the insides of his hand. A few seconds passed, where Castiel simply regained his breath (not his conscience), before the man met his eyes and cocked an eyebrow. Castiel looked at him with confusion, before watching as the man's come-covered hand hovered before his face. Needless to say, Castiel leaned forward and licked the man's finger clean, swallowing every bit of disgusting, musky semen down his throat, and sucking the man's fingers into his mouth.
"What a good lil' baby slut I've got for me here," the man laughed, and buckled his trousers, before turning away.
The train came to a gradual halt, and the man sent Castiel a wink before expertly slipping away, into the crowd, and out of the compartment. Castiel had no time to even process what he'd just done, before he felt the crowd glance at him with strange, vile looks.
Whatever. Their fault for watching.
With a smile, Castiel went home that evening, fucking himself on a dildo to the memories of the stranger's lusty green eyes and thick, pink monster cock.