Dean won’t hit his knees for just anyone, but Cas doesn’t even have to ask to get him there. Or, here, rather; here, kneeling on industrial grade carpet in a semi-clean motel room between Castiel’s legs. Here at the edge of the bed Cas is sitting on, mouthing at his cock through his slacks, jaw tight with the anticipation of wrapping his lips around it. Castiel runs his fingers roughly through Dean’s hair, short nails scratch at his scalp, then Cas’ palm is on his crown to pull him in harder. Dean’s whimper slips out unbidden as he squirms closer on his knees, sucking at spit-wet fabric and looking up to see Castiel leaned back against his free hand, watching.
“Do you want it?”
Dean nods emphatically - as emphatically as he can with Castiel’s grip on his head, anyway - his hands shaking with excitement when he reaches up to grab at Castiel’s hips. He works his tongue and lips feverishly up and down the length of Castiel’s cock to prove it, but Cas just strokes through his hair again before sliding those long fingers under Dean’s jaw to pull his mouth away.
“Then tell me,” Castiel says, his voice hoarse and rougher than usual around the edges. "Tell me what you want.“
"I want.. I want your cock,” Dean whispers, his cheeks heating as though he’s admitting something Cas didn’t already know. Castiel traces the pad of his thumb across Dean’s lips, eyes narrowed as though he’s contemplating the offer. Dean squirms closer still, his knees pressed uncomfortably tight against the bed frame as Cas pulls at the swell of his lower lip; he lurches forward, lips opening around Castiel’s thumb, tongue pressing to the pad as he sucks for all he’s worth. He feels a swell of pride when Castiel’s breath hitches.
"I don’t think I heard you,” Cas murmurs, his thumb sliding halfway out of Dean’s mouth and back in again as a wicked, teasing smile tugs at the corners of his lips. His fingers curl under Dean’s chin again, the pad of his thumb pressing down hard until he’s holding Dean’s head immobile. His voice is soft, velvet around a ton of bricks when he says altogether too sweetly, “I want to hear you.”
Cas tells him he loves him on a rainy day in March.
Cas is wearing one of Dean’s old t-shirts, the graphic on it, faded and worn from years of use. He’s not wearing pants, just a pair of boxers that makes Dean painfully aware of the curve of Cas’ ass, not that he’s looking, of course. Cas’…
I decided to write a version of how Dean coming out to Sam might go. Hope it’s okay!
People are saying this is too small to read on tumblr so I’m gonna add links to the original image sizes for you :)
He is purity personified. He is a hurricane with wings. He is a statue, all stoic posture and a constantly serious tone.
His grace shines brighter than a thousand suns, bright blue and translucent. It pulses in the air around him a static charge capable of killing and resurrecting with just one volt.
He is the one of the most deadly beings in the universe, who deigns to heal colicky babies with a touch of his finger. He is a comrade, a friend, no, a best friend.
He is the holiest sacrament I could ever partake of, but I cannot have him.
I am the devil in the body of a man. My soul is twisted, dark and fucked up beyond repair. If I were to touch him my sulfur-covered hands would taint his essence. I would leave sludge upon him, a reminder of my grievous sin.
So I do not dare touch him, I am unworthy.
But one day he touches the shell of my shoulder and I do not burn him. He doesn’t cringe and he doesn’t shy away. He smiles. He smiles!
I smile back and let out a breath when his hand slides down my arm, leaving electricity sparking and popping against my skin.
His smile widens and I am lost, drowning in the flames of desire and he is my only savior.
And I love him, God help me, I love him.
But an au where Cas is a great singer, but no one knows this because he’s so shy. Secretly, he’s dating Dean Winchester, a closeted soldier who was discharged from the military with PTSD, who comes to see Cas at the college he attends now and again under the guise of friendship, sometimes not even that.
Then, after Dean suffers a bout of serious depression and episodes, Cas invites him to a concert he is in for the university choir. No one in the choir knows Cas can really sing - he’s there to fill up space really.
Then, after permission from his instructor, he gets up there and does a solo of Bridge Over Troubled Water and at first, he’s so quiet, but as he grows more passionate for the lyrics and message, he belts it out. Clear, beautiful, precise. He even changes the lyrics a bit to be sail on silver boy, rather than girl.
Dean’s in the audience and by the end he’s in tears.
After the concert is over, the audience is floored, and Dean meets Cas backstage and Cas smiles at him and cups his face, which Dean always shuts his eyes, which are teary and red, and presses into his palm. Cas tells him he meant it and Dean says I know.
cas curling up to dean at night, draping his arms around dean and pulling him in tight
“cas, you’re like 100 degrees get off me” dean struggling to get away, cas only holds on tighter
“i wanna hold you” cas says, kissing dean’s bare back
"i don’t sleep on my side i sleep on my stomach get off” dean says, and cas grumbles and lets dean roll onto his stomach
cas draping himself on top of dean and dean rolling his eyes and letting cas get away with it this time (every time)
Of all the kisses he shares with Castiel, these are Dean’s favorites. The ones that start slow, lips barely touching before pulling away only to touch again. With Castiel’s palm on his jaw and the warmth of their chests pressed together a delightful contrast to the cold wall at his back. The way Cas’ tongue teases along the swell of his bottom lip, then retreats just as he starts to lean into the promise of a proper kiss.
He loves the way Castiel’s hips move instinctively against his; tiny, tiny, tiny pushes he wouldn’t even notice if the cumulative effect wasn’t his back pressed more firmly against the wall. Dean enjoys the softness of their bellies pushed together and the way Cas’ breath hitches with the first brush of fingertips against his waist, the way he shivers when Dean gives his lip a playful nibble.
The best thing, though, is the anticipation.
The hot breath shared, growing quicker and more ragged as their hearts beat harder in their chests. Dean loves the stirring of real want in his belly that makes him grip Castiel’s waist a little tighter and pull him a little closer. He craves the soft “oh” it earns him and the way Castiel’s lips hover so close to his own that he can feel the heat of the impending kiss for an eternal second before it happens. The heat comes just ahead of a barely audible noise - low and guttural; not a gasp, not a moan - that always gives Castiel’s intentions away.
When their lips finally meet in earnest, it’s like a wave to shore. Pressed lips and teasing tongues, Castiel’s fingers tightening against Dean’s face before they slide around to curl at the base of his skull and pull him in. The wall is warm now, hard behind him as Castiel’s body meets his and pushes and Dean feels like a butterfly in a thunderstorm. Through the passion and the need, Castiel’s lips are soft, his tongue quick as kisses Dean so thoroughly his knees turn to jelly. Dean’s free hand finally settles on Cas’ hip, pulling him forward as they use the wall to keep themselves upright.
They kiss, give and take, until Dean feels as though his lungs are on fire and then for half a second more. When Cas finally pulls away, his lips still hover spit wet and hot, barely brushing Dean’s as they go back to sharing the same aching breath. The sounds he makes; always soft, soft, soft, and oh-so-sweet make Dean’s heart pound behind his breastbone. They hold one another until they can almost breathe, lips pressing and giving and pulling away over and over as fingers stray under fabric in search of warm skin.
And, as always, just when Dean’s head has almost stopped spinning and his feet feel firmly on the floor again, Castiel presses forward to kiss him again.
I’m impatient for Halloween so here’s some domestic AU fluff for all of you. I finished both way too quickly to ensure quality but, hey, it’s the thought that counts, right? ;_; There’s more where this came from here.
“Dean, are my wings level?” Cas asks as he…
Cas and Dean fucking, Dean holding Cas’ ass apart with his thumbs so that he can see his cock sliding in and out of Cas’ pretty pink hole, loves watching Cas’ strong muscles arching in his back and squeezing tight together in his shoulders like he’d be arching his wings up if they were on a plane Dean could see or feel.
Dean shoving himself forward, crouched on one knee and the ball of his other foot as he fists a hand in Cas’ hair and shoves him down harder into the mattress, the force of his thrusts almost sending Cas onto his belly in the sheets as he leans down and growls;
“Want my come, Cas?”
And Cas just nods, frantically, arching his hips up as best he can for it and Dean smirks - this cruel, smug grin.
“Where do you want it?”
And Cas whines and opens his pretty, lust-black eyes like he can actually see Dean but Dean is mostly hidden behind Cas’ sweaty, mussed hair and he can’t keep his eyes open because Dean is fucking him so damn good.
“Anywhere,” he finally manages, voice raw. “Anywhere, Dean, please.”
The way he says it, begs for it like Dean could mark him up anywhere he chose and Cas would still love it, is what pushes Dean closer to the edge, in real danger of falling over.
Maybe he grabs one of Castiel’s hands and squeezes their fingers together, bites and hobbles his Angel with a dark mark sucked into his shoulder as he fucks in and in and comes with a low grunt, stomach seizing up with every spurt as he tries to rut as deep as he can so that nothing will drip out if he has his say about it.
Maybe he tries to pull out but doesn’t quite make it, spills hot and sticky between Cas’ thighs and over his ass, marking up the pretty, sweaty skin under him where he’s red from Dean’s grabbing hands, and he forces the head of his cock back in so that Cas’ tight, clenching ass can squeeze the last few spurts from him, and it’s sticky and messy and Cas just moans at how filthydirtyhot it is to feel Dean covering him like that, Dean’s come sliding down between his legs.
Maybe Cas can pull out his wings, just for a second, so Dean growls out a terse ‘Show ‘em, sweetheart’ and Cas’ wings burst from his back just long enough for Dean to wrap his hand tight around his cock and aim his come for the thick, black feathers, watching how they twitch and ruffle with arousal, feeling the Hunter mark them all over.
Maybe he’ll come all over Cas’ back and in his hair, kiss and lick his skin clean while he reaches a hand underneath his shivering, moaning Angel and work him to the second orgasm of the night, grinning and using his teeth whenever Castiel gets close until the Angel is covered in goosebumps and spilling onto the sheets with a quiet whimper.
Maybe he rolls Cas over and aims for his mouth, painting those gorgeous pink lips with his come and admiring the thick, white clash of his come across Cas’ blushing cheeks and across his nose and framing his pretty blue-black eyes.
This is fucking hurting me all the possibilities.
