spnficlets is on permanent haitus.
I'm riley and every day of 2014 then every week of 2015, I posted something on this blog. The stories are largely Deancas with a few other pairings mixed in. For specifics, you can check out the tags page.
My un-updated since 2015 faq can still be found here if you're interested.
Have a great day! <3
Mobile/popup "cover" pic: x
Hey there, Anon! I am indeed okay, thank you for asking.
I thought I had put something in the blog description eons ago about this, but now I realize I kind of left everyone hanging, so I’m going to sort it out right now. This ficlet blog is on permanent hiatus. I’m going to leave everything here, of course, but there won’t be any more stories added going forward.
Just to wrap everything up completely and not unintentionally leave anyone with more questions: I got disillusioned with the show and stopped watching at the end of season 10, then stopped writing shortly thereafter since I didn’t want to risk bringing my disillusionment to my stories and, by extension, to the people who read my fics and still enjoyed the show. (Because I think people who ruin things for other people for no reason kind of suck, tbh.) At this point, I can’t imagine picking the show back up and I’m so far removed from the stories and characters that I wouldn’t even have the first clue what to write, anyway.
Thank you again, Anon, for your message and thank you to everyone who supported me while I was writing these stories. You folks are amazing and I have always felt incredibly lucky to have such great readers. <3
The space of a heartbeat is all it takes. In less time than it takes Castiel’s breath to leave his lungs in one quick whoosh, something shifts inside him. In the space of that single heartbeat, Dean’s shaking hands are on Castiel’s face and their lips are pressed together in a hard kiss. It isn’t their first, but somehow it’s the first that matters.
From that first, frantic meeting of their lips, they kiss themselves breathless; Dean’s hands never straying from Castiel’s face and Castiel’s fingers curled painfully tight around the soft flannel of Dean’s shirt. With every shared breath and every press of lips, their bodies drift closer in the dark, damp space of the abandoned warehouse. When Castiel finally forces himself to pull away to catch his breath, he leans his forehead against Dean’s and struggles to figure out why he suddenly feels so different.
“Are you okay, Cas?”
"I think so,” Castiel answers a breath later, once Dean’s quiet words have had a chance to filter through the haze clouding his mind. “Are you?”
“I thought I was going to lose you,” Dean says, the words barely audible. He draws a breath as though there’s more he wants to say, but no words follow.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Castiel whispers in the space left by Dean’s silence and in the time it takes Dean to kiss him again, he finally realizes what has changed: he’s not going anywhere.
The words barely register in the commotion of the university’s quad and Castiel’s still half-asleep state. It isn’t until he feels a hand on his shoulder that he finally looks up, only to find himself staring into a smiling, freckled face.
“I like your shirt,” the face’s owner says again.
“Oh,” Cas answers, taking a quick glance down to figure out which shirt he’s wearing. He hesitates, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder before he looks back up to say, “Thank you.”
“I love Captain America,” the freckled boy continues, his green eyes bright with barely concealed excitement. “He’s my favorite superhero, hands down.”
“I, uh,” Castiel mumbles, shifting his backpack again. He wills his sleepy brain to catch up with the unexpected conversation. Once it does - sort of - he smiles and adds, “He’s mine, too.”
“I’m Dean,” the boy says, then bites his lip. “I probably should’ve started with that.”
“No,” Castiel says quickly, “it’s okay. Just.. “ He waves a hand as though to point out his still disheveled state. “No coffee yet, you know?”
“We could get some together,” Dean offers.
Cas reflexively checks his watch before giving an answer. He winces and shakes his head as he raises his eyes to meet Dean’s again.
“I really can’t today. I’m running late already,” he says apologetically. “Monday mornings are the worst.” Dean’s smile falters for the first time, so Castiel appends a quick, “Tomorrow, though?”
“Yeah,” Dean replies instantly, his smile widening into a grin. “Hell yeah, tomorrow!”
Castiel gives a nod and a smile of his own before starting to walk away. Half a second later, a hand is on his shoulder again, stopping him in his tracks. He’s only halfway turned around when Dean asks, “What’s your name?”
“Oh,” Castiel mutters. He reaches up to rub the back of his neck and clears his throat before answering, “I’m Castiel.”
“Don’t forget: coffee with me tomorrow, Castiel,” Dean says, barely hiding a laugh as he pats Castiel’s shoulder.
“I won’t,” Cas promises. It isn’t until he slides into his seat at the back of the lecture hall that he realizes he forgot to get Dean’s number.
“When the semester is over, let’s just go.”
“Go where?”
“Anywhere that isn’t here, Cas.”
The second the responsibilities of their sophomore year of college end, Dean and Castiel pile into the Impala with a suitcase each, headed somewhere that isn’t here. They almost make it to the Kansas/Colorado border before Castiel realizes something’s missing from both their luggage.
“Didn’t you pack the map?”
“No, I thought you packed it.”
“We should stop and get one, Dean.”
“I know where I’m going.”
Castiel doesn’t argue because he knows his boyfriend well enough to know it won’t do him a bit of good. So, he sits back and crosses his arms over his chest, staring out the window at the passing mile markers. He also hopes that Dean does, in fact, know where they’re going.
After a quick dinner in a roadside diner just past of Denver, they turn north on state highway 72, heading deeper into the Rocky Mountains as the sun starts to dip low in the sky. Castiel steals occasional glances at Dean, trying to determine just how certain he is about where he’s going. It’s after a treacherous road full of sharp curves and just past the barely-a-town of Pinecliffe when one of those glances tells Castiel that they’re in trouble.
“Are we lost?”
“No, we’re not.”
“We’re definitely lost, Dean.”
Dean says nothing more; instead, he smiles reassuringly and reaches for Castiel’s hand. The road straightens out enough to let them both breathe as they pass the next half-hour with only the hum of the Impala’s engine and the low growl of classic rock coming from her speakers. When the highway they’ve been following dead ends into another; Dean pulls the car over onto the wide dirt shoulder and kills the lights, then the engine.
Before Cas can say anything, Dean has opened the driver’s side door and started to climb out. The hair on the back of Castiel’s neck stands on end as he opens his own door to a rush of cool mountain air and moves to join Dean - who is now sitting on the hood of the Impala, staring up. With his hand firmly clasped in Dean’s again, he looks to the sky, only to see stars spread out and shimmering like diamonds across black velvet.
“Oh, my God look at all the stars.”
"They’re beautiful.”
“I’ve never seen so many stars in my life.”
“See, Cas? I told you I knew where I was going.”
Castiel pulls his gaze away from the view long enough to look at Dean, whose cocky smile is just visible in the faint moonlight. With a fond shake of his head, Cas leans in to kiss his boyfriend, sweet and soft and lingering under the wide open Rocky Mountain sky. A smile spreads slowly across Castiel’s face as he pulls away and presses his forehead to Dean’s.
“Admit it, Dean Winchester: you had no idea where you were going.”
“Okay, maybe I didn’t. But, we got here anyway.”
Do you know of any long canon!verse fics of the boys simply huntin a monster with cas and destiel happens?
I don’t, Anon; I’m sorry. I know they definitely exist, but I don’t know what direction to point you in to find them. Maybe my followers can help you out by recommending their favorites?
sharing a little house at the end of a quiet street - one that they picked out together because it had a big back yard for Castiel’s garden and an already soundproofed room for Dean to play his guitar as loud as he wants any time of the day
Cas sprawling out in the floor, listening to Dean play the same song seventeen times and cheering when he finally hits that super hard chord change
Cas holding his breath every time that chord change comes up because somewhere deep in his brain there’s a bit of him that believes it’ll bring Dean good luck
Dean reading the book Castiel has been talking about for three weeks just because he wants to be able to talk to Cas about it instead of just listening
Dean loving the book even though he thought he wouldn’t like it at all
Castiel planting veggies in his garden that he knows Dean enjoys cooking
Dean cooking those veggies in ways he knows Cas likes the most
the two of them lying in the grass in the back yard in the middle of the night, looking at the stars together while they talk about everything and nothing at all
both of them being afraid to try to put a name to what they have, so they just decide that “it’s not like that” is a good enough label
Cas being fiercely protective of Dean’s “get a band together” dreams at every turn
Dean making sure Castiel’s cat gets plenty of cuddles when Cas is away on business, even if it makes him sneeze
Dean always waking up first to make sure there’s a pot of coffee made when Castiel’s alarm goes off
Castiel doing all the laundry without complaint because he knows how much Dean hates it
just.. Castiel and Dean as platonic soulmates you know (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
When Dean wakes up from an afternoon nap with Castiel’s half-hard cock pressing into his hip, it’s only natural that he lets his hands wander. He only gets a little grumbly protest when he shifts and turns both their bodies, his fingers sliding down Castiel’s bare side as he settles Cas down on his back.
“Mornin’ sunshine,” Dean teases, smiling against his lover’s throat before he presses a wet kiss, then another as he pushes his fingers under the waistband of Castiel’s boxers.
He doesn’t get an answer; probably because he doesn’t give Cas a chance to answer before he’s got a loose grip on his cock, stroking slowly. Dean lifts his head, pressing kisses to the line of Castiel’s jaw, his strokes barely more than a tease. Cas pushes his hips up, clumsy and tentative, pushing his cock into the circle of Dean’s fist, his breath hissing out when Dean’s fingers tighten just the tiniest bit.
Dean presses kiss after biting kiss to Castiel’s throat, lifting his head between each to watch the draw of Castiel’s brow. His eyes are still closed, his lip caught between his teeth as Dean’s fingers slip the length of his cock. His breath goes a little shallower and more ragged with each lazy flick of Dean’s wrist.
“Mm,” is the first sound Castiel makes; not a moan exactly, but a rumble that vibrates his whole chest and ends in a breathy “oh” as he pushes his boxers out of the way impatiently. His fingers slide through Dean’s hair before wrapping around the back of Dean’s neck to pull him in for a kiss.
With the first press of lips, Dean’s carefully laid plan of teasing and pleasing goes out the window. Castiel kisses him hard, desperate, needy, and Dean is not about to let that pass. His pace quickens, his fist twisting over the head of Castiel’s cock to draw little growls and groans of pleasure that he can greedily swallow down just in time for the next.
Cas finally finds a rhythm, his hips rolling to push Dean’s fingers to the root of his cock before letting them drag all the way to its tip again. Dean lifts his head, struggling to catch his breath and distract himself from the heat pooled in the pit of his own stomach and the insistent ache of his own cock. It works when he sees Castiel’s eyes half-opened, all shining black pupil and thin, brilliant rings of crystal blue.
Even as Dean is leaning in to suck at Castiel’s throat, he pulls his fingers up to concentrate on the head of Castiel’s cock. Little moans break first, rumbling under his lips and tongue as he lets his thumb slide back and forth over Castiel’s slit, smearing precome as he strokes and squeezes. Castiel’s body arches, his fingers desperate for a grip on the sheet as his breath comes in gasps.
Dean shows no mercy, returning to long, quick strokes that leave Cas squirming and whimpering with pleasure as he sucks and nips at his exposed throat. He feels Castiel’s cock thicken and lets his fingers slip up, squeeze and twist on the slickness of precome as one final gasp catches in Castiel’s throat and wheezes out. Dean’s whole body aches with how turned on he is when Castiel’s fingers wrap roughly around his wrist and pull his fist erratically.
A moaned curse later, wet heat flows through Dean’s fingers; a satisfying mess that he strokes into Castiel’s skin until they’re both sticky with it. Cas lets his body sink back to the bed, his chest heaving with each hard breath as he reaches up to pull Dean into another kiss. Their tongues push and twist, lips pressed bruising hard as Dean pulls his fingers slowly away and smears the mess all up Castiel’s bare stomach.
“Mornin’,” Castiel rumbles once he catches his breath enough to speak. Dean’s stomach twists dirty and hot with the whiskey roughness of Castiel’s voice and the clear intent with which Cas pushes him onto his back.
gen, 3546 words; human Castiel, religious pilgrimage, no romantic relationships
Castiel has a lot to come to terms with after he falls. When he meets a girl named Maria at the Gas-N-Sip one day, he thinks he’s taking his first steps in the right direction. He never could have imagined the journey that follows.
The first wedding-related thing Dean and Castiel agree on was that they will write their own vows. Once the decision has been made, Castiel seems to think no more of it. Dean, however, spends months crafting the perfect words. Finally, the day before the wedding, he nervously shows what must be the five-thousandth revision to Sam; who beams and pronounces them absolutely perfect.
Everything proceeds according to plan in the tiny chapel on the outskirts of Lawrence. Jody and Donna are able to make it, along with a gaggle of their wayward girls. Linda and Kevin take bets on who will be the first to cry. Charlie helps Castiel with last-minute tie straightening and a pep talk while Sam does the same for Dean. Though the butterflies that have taken up residence in the middle of Dean’s chest are quiet for the moment, he still goes over and over the vows he’s written in his mind as he walks down the aisle to stand beside his soon-to-be husband.
The round, middle-aged preacher smiles kindly at them and gives a rousing - and mercifully short - speech about the importance of marriage and love before informing those gathered that the men will be reciting vows they’ve written themselves. He then nods to Castiel, whose lips pull into a quick, nervous smile before he turns to Dean.
“Set me as a seal on thine heart,” Castiel says softly as he reaches out to take Dean’s hands in his own, “and as a signet upon thine arm.” Their eyes meet and Castiel’s voice grows more confident with each word as he goes on. “For love is strong as death, jealousy is cruel as the grave; and the coals thereof are fiery coals, and a vehement flame. Much water cannot quench love; neither can the floods drown it. If a man should give all the substance of his house for love, they would greatly contemn it.”
He pauses and catches his bottom lip shyly between his teeth, squeezing Dean’s hands gently before he continues, this time in his own words: “I would take nothing for this love we have built together, Dean Winchester. I am yours until I am no more.”
There’s a distant-sounding sniffle from the pews as Dean struggles to swallow the lump in his throat. So many months of work to put together the perfect words to express his love for the man in front of him fall away like autumn leaves in the fierce sincerity of Castiel’s statement.
Dean licks his lips and squeezes Castiel’s hands, the words he’d so carefully crafted lost as he answers: “And so today, my world it smiles; your hand in mine, we walk the miles. Thanks to you it will be done, for you to me are the only one.”
“We could actually get married now,” Castiel murmurs drowsily against the back of Dean’s neck. He seals the statement with a nuzzling kiss and presses himself closer against Dean’s back before adding, “I mean, if you wanted to.”
A million questions race through Dean’s mind at once in the wake of Castiel’s observation, pulling him back from the edge of sleep. His heartbeat quickens as one of those questions settles on the tip of his tongue. Dean rolls the words around, tasting them, uncertain if he’s prepared for the answer; half a second later, he decides he has to ask whether he’s prepared or not.
“Did you.. did you just propose to me, Cas?” The sound of Dean’s heartbeat rushes through his ears, his chest tight around a held breath as he waits. Even when he feels Castiel’s chest expand on a deep breath against his back, he’s not sure he’s ready for the answer.
“Yes,” Castiel says a moment later. His lips curve into a smile against the top of Dean’s shoulder. The arm around Dean’s middle tightens, pulling him back until they can’t possibly get any closer. Castiel’s lips brush against the curve of Dean’s ear when he says, “I would be honored to be your husband.”
“Yes,” Dean answers without hesitation. He turns his head to catch Castiel’s lips in a kiss as he threads their fingers together over his own stomach; then whispers another, more emphatic, “Yes.”
After three years of Castiel sneaking to earth to visit Dean Winchester - the man he was never supposed to fall in love with - God gives him an ultimatum. He has three days to choose between staying in Heaven to continue his angelic duties with his brothers and sisters or staying on Earth with Dean and, in the process, losing his angelic nature.
In a lifetime of difficult decisions, this one is hardest because he wants both his family and the man he loves. At his core, though, Castiel knows that splitting his time between Heaven and Earth makes him both an ineffective angel and a less than stellar boyfriend. It isn’t an easy choice, but he knows it’s a necessary one and doesn’t fault his Father for asking him to make it.
He weighs the pros and cons of each choice carefully, taking time away from everyone to through the galaxies as easily as a ray of sun warms the earth. In this form he’s pure energy, one with the stars and the planets and the very matter that makes up each of his Father’s creations. He considers the choice before him as he revisits his favorite constellation, his thoughts never straying from it as he pauses to take in the stunning beauty of a planet his beloved will never be able to see.
Nearly three days later, Castiel returns to Earth in the form Dean recognizes, his heart heavy with the weight of the decision before him. Instead of their usual dinner and hanging out routine, he asks Dean to drive them to the very spot on the riverbank where they first met; a request Dean is more than happy to fulfill. They sit on the hood of the Impala, shoulders and outer thighs pressed together as they talk about the little things that make up human life - the things that made Castiel fall in love with Dean in the first place.
In what seems like no time at all, they’re surrounded by nothing but cricket-infused peace and a growing darkness that makes Dean instinctively press a little closer to Castiel. When Cas suggests they go for a short walk before it gets too dark, Dean threads their fingers together and starts off down the riverbank. Overhead, the stars seem to go on forever, calling to Castiel as though they know he has still not reached a decision.
They walk in comfortable silence, frogs and crickets stopping their songs when the men come close, only to start up again once they’ve passed, but Castiel can hear the celestial clock ticking down within him. He hears the hours that turned to minutes and are quickly dwindling to seconds, one by one until he must make the decision that will shape the rest of his life.
With Dean close by his side and their fingers still threaded, he walks until they reach the next clearing. It feels like the perfect place and Castiel stops abruptly, raising his eyes to the heavens. Dean stops half a second after he does and turns while Castiel is looking up at the shimmer of a galaxy’s worth of stars stretched out above them. The ticking within Cas grows louder as he reaches up to take Dean’s face gently between his hands and pulls his gaze from the stars to the man in front of him.
“I love you more than all the stars in the sky, Dean,” Castiel whispers.
Even as he leans in to kiss the man he loves, he can feel himself being cut off from heaven. When their lips meet, the voices of his brothers and sisters become nothing more than a whisper of breeze through the tree tops. As Dean reaches up to touch Castiel’s chest with gentle fingers, Cas can feel the grace seeping from his own bones. They cling to one another in the darkness, tears leaking from the corners of Castiel’s eyes as they press kiss after tender kiss to one another’s lips, though Cas would be hard pressed to say whether they were tears of sadness or tears of joy.
“Is everything okay, Cas?” Dean’s lips still brush Castiel’s with each murmured word. He reaches up to take Castiel’s hands in his own, pulling them to his chest and pressing his forehead to his boyfriend’s.
“Everything’s perfect,” Castiel answers, certain for the first time that he means it. Just ahead of the next press of lips, he breathes, “Perfect.”
Oh, man, but just think about Castiel pinning Dean’s wrists at the small of his back while he fucks him into the mattress at the end of a long, frustrating day. Think about how Dean would savor the roughness of the sheet on his knees and shoulders and cheek. Can you imagine the little moans that would slip out first as Dean starts to lose himself in how great it feels? The breathless “yeah” and “fuck” that will slowly give way to whimpered pleas for “harder, Cas” and “more, more, more” despite the fact that Castiel’s fingers are already leaving bruises on his wrists and it would be physically impossible for Cas to actually fuck him any harder.
But, once you’re finished thinking about that, you should definitely think about what happens after that part of the night is over. I mean the part that comes after Cas has fucked Dean into the bed so well and thoroughly that just the drag of those rough damn motel sheets and the sheer force of Castiel’s thrusts have conspired to made him come and after Cas has pulled out and jerked himself off all over the spot where his fingers are cramped from still clenching Dean’s wrists as tightly as he can. The part that starts when the day’s frustrations have been reduced to sticky skin and a wet spot neither of them really minds sleeping in.
Because, that’s the part where Cas collapses to the bed in a satisfied heap and pulls Dean close to kiss his face and gently rub from his shoulders down to his fingertips to chase away the lingering discomfort of being pinned in one position for so long. The part where Dean is still whispering feverish nonsense, his sweaty forehead pressed to Castiel’s as they lovingly reconnect in the glow of the motel’s pink and green neon sign. Also, don’t forget the part five minutes later when Dean starts yawning against Castiel’s shoulder and Cas pulls him closer and whispers a tender “let’s get some sleep” against his hair.
5k words, Dean/Cas
married deancas domestic fluff + porn (ft. Sam and Gabriel but not Sam/Gabriel)
birthday dinners, birthday sex complete with panty kink, first time panty kink, blow jobs, rutting, lapdances (dean/cas), body worship, praise kink, come sharing (minor), gross husbands being generally gross
Dean reluctantly agrees to a thirtieth birthday dinner in an upscale burger joint with Castiel, Sam, and Gabriel. When Gabe was picking out the gag gift to embarrass his brother's husband with, he probably never dreamed it would go to such good use.
“I’m wearing those pink panties,” Dean leans across the table to whisper in Castiel’s ear as they sit together in a roadside diner. “The ones you like so much.”
It’s the beginning of a very long day for Castiel, one that involves way too much “trying to find a monster” and way too little “fucking my boyfriend while he wears the panties he knows make me weak in the knees.” At every turn, Dean reminds Cas about his pretty pink panties, adding new details each time like how snug they are on his cock and how satiny they feel across his ass. With each new bit of information, Castiel uses every bit of his considerable willpower to not call the day a bust and drag Dean back to the motel.
The tension builds between them as morning wears into afternoon wears into evening, a deliciously warm fire that licks at the base of Castiel’s spine while he bides his time until he can get Dean alone for the night. Dean takes every opportunity to touch Castiel, trailing fingertips across his shoulders and down the valley of his spine when they have two seconds out of sight of other people. By the time they decide the day is indeed a bust, Dean is squirming in the driver’s seat of the Impala and muttering something about skipping dinner, but Cas won’t hear of it.
At dinner, they sit side by side in the dimly lit booth in the back of the little restaurant. Castiel’s fingers trail lazily up Dean’s thigh as he leans over to whisper how he can’t wait to see how those pretty pink panties have fared over the course of the day. He pauses, squeezing Dean’s upper thigh to steady his boyfriend when the waitress appears with their burgers.
With a bright smile and a “ya’ll need anything else, just let me know, kay?” she bounces back off toward the kitchen just before a ragged breath slips between Dean’s lips. The ten minutes it takes to scarf their burgers and fries seems like an eternity to Castiel, whose palm is now pressed firmly against Dean’s half-hard cock. He can only imagine - gleefully - how long a time it seems for Dean. Once dinner is finished and paid for, they make it back to the motel in record time.
They’ve barely closed the door before Castiel has Dean pushed back against it. He mouths at the hollow beneath Dean’s ear, growling impatiently as he rubs Dean’s cock roughly through his jeans and panties. It takes only a moment and a drag of Castiel’s teeth down his earlobe before Dean is panting and squirming, his restless hands tugging at Castiel’s jacket. Between biting kisses, they shed jackets and shirts, but Cas stops Dean before he can unbutton his jeans.
“Fuck, c’mon,” Dean groans, his head thrown back as Castiel sucks and bites at his throat.
“You’ve been teasing me all day,” Cas replies. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips at the sweet sound of agonized regret the words pull from Dean’s chest when he adds, “Now, it’s my turn."
Much to his surprise, Dean doesn’t argue. Even as Castiel squeezes and strokes Dean’s cock mercilessly, bending his head to tease at his nipples in turn, Dean’s only response is moaned pleasure and arching forward for more. Dean’s eagerness to play Castiel’s game coupled with the uncomfortable constriction of Cas’ cock in the confines of his own jeans is what cuts the teasing shorter than he had planned.
Wordlessly, Castiel kisses and nips a path down Dean’s body, over the hardness of his ribcage and the softness of his belly. He drops to his knees in front of Dean, his fingers trembling as they work at unbuttoning his boyfriend’s jeans. Dean helps as much as he can with hands that shake just as much as Castiel’s and together they manage to get his jeans unbuttoned and pulled out of the way. At long last, Cas has his first view of Dean’s pretty, satiny pink panties, stained dark with the wetness of precome. It’s just as beautiful a sight as he knew it would be.
Even as he leans forward to mouth at Dean’s cock through the panties, Castiel is unbuttoning his own jeans, seeking relief. Dean’s breathy moans turn to feverish, needy whispers as Cas licks and sucks at his cock with the satin barrier between their skin. His fingers twist into Castiel’s hair, pulling his lips in hard against the soaked fabric. Cas licks with the flat of his tongue, kisses, and nibbles his way the length of Dean’s cock from root to tip, all but the last bit covered by panties.
When his tongue drags across bare skin for the first time, Dean’s knees threaten to buckle and an incoherent string of words that sound vaguely like a plea for more fills the air. Castiel reaches down, thumbing at the freed head of his own cock as he sucks delicately at the head of Dean’s to the same rhythm. Dean’s fingers tighten in his hair without trying to guide him and Castiel hums pleasure and continues to bob over just the skin exposed to his lips. Dean’s thighs quiver, his whole body obviously on the verge of revolt.
“Cas.”
Dean’s voice is pulled as tight as a piano wire on the syllable, tightening Castiel’s stomach with need in turn. When Castiel looks up, Dean is looking down, his eyes half-closed with ecstasy at this barest of contact after a whole day filled with waiting and teasing. Dean licks his lips, his tongue rolling slow and wet over the swell of his bottom lip and it’s more than Castiel can take.
With one smooth motion, he rises to his feet, his lips brushing Dean’s as he whispers, “Get on the bed.”
After one quick, hard kiss Dean fumbles with his boots and his jeans while Castiel kicks easily out of his own shoes and pushes his jeans off his hips. By time he’s retrieved the lube they keep in their shared toiletries bag and shed his jeans and underwear, Dean has finally made it onto the bed - face down, with his panties still on. Castiel’s cock leaps at the image of his boyfriend’s flushed neck and shoulders and that gorgeous, round ass waving in the air, framed perfectly by pink satin.
He crawls onto the bed behind Dean, coating his fingers with a liberal squirt of lube before pushing the panties roughly out of the way. His lips seal in a sucking kiss over the back of Dean’s neck as he starts to probe the tight ring of muscles under his fingertips.
“I hope you don’t mind if I hurry a little,” Castiel growls, biting at the top of Dean’s shoulder to distract him from the discomfort of a finger sliding into his ass a little too quickly.
“Wish you fuckin’ would,” Dean moans in reply, his muscles clenching around Castiel’s finger even as he pushes back to take it deeper.
Cas chuckles, a low rumble as he starts to fuck Dean with just one finger, twisting and pushing as he does. A moment later, he adds a second finger, sending Dean’s thighs spreading wider as he grinds his cock against his wet panties and the bed in time with Castiel’s thrusts. Cas kisses at Dean’s neck and his shoulder, nibbles at his earlobe and murmurs how good it’s going to feel when he finally gets to fuck him; it only makes Dean moan more loudly. Cas adds a third finger, earning a gasp and a guttural noise that makes his cock leap against Dean’s hip.
With his patience worn too thin to go on, Castiel pulls his fingers slowly from Dean’s ass and takes up position behind him. Dean readjusts himself, his knees drawn up and his ass high, giving Castiel a stunning view of his ready hole with his panties still pulled off to the side. A slick of lube later, Castiel presses his cockhead against that ready hole and grabs Dean’s hip to hold him steady. The sound Dean makes when he finally pushes in vibrates through Castiel like the thump of heavy bass and nearly ends the fun before it’s really begun.
“Fuck me, Cas,” Dean growls, pushing backward impatiently.
Castiel slides his fingers under the waistband of Dean’s panties, clutching at his sweaty hips. With a firm grip on his squirmy lover, he does exactly that. With each thrust, their bodies slap together harder, his cock squeezed tight by Dean’s body as both of them pant and groan with pleasure. Words are long gone as Dean reaches back to grab Castiel’s wrist as though to steady himself against the onslaught of rough thrusts.
The flame that has slowly built through the day, pulling Castiel’s stomach tight and twisting tendrils through his very bones is a raging inferno that threatens to engulf him. Each time his hips snap forward, he loses himself in the heat of Dean’s body and the whimpers that have taken the place of words. Cas lets one hand slide up Dean’s back, his fingers curling over the top his shoulder to pull him back harder.
“I know you wanna touch yourself,” Castiel rasps, curling his body forward until he’s pressed flush against Dean’s back. His throat burns with each word, the change in position dragging the head of his cock at an excruciatingly pleasurable angle, and he barely manages to moan, “So, go ahead. Make yourself come for me.”
Dean wastes no time, the rhythm of his hips changing as Castiel’s cock sinks deep into him with each push. Dean’s moans reach a fevered pitch as his fingers work at his cock, his muscles rippling tellingly under Castiel’s body. Cas helpfully puts his hand loosely over Dean’s mouth, giving him the freedom to make as much noise as he wants to without disturbing the neighbors. Their bodies slide together as Dean’s moans and growls are lost against Castiel’s hand and Castiel’s are lost against Dean’s shoulder.
Cas hangs on against the rising tide of orgasm threatening to pull him under until Dean’s breath starts to come in ragged gasps, his ass clenching down around Castiel’s cock. At the telltale signs of his lover’s orgasm, Cas lifts his head, arching downward as he fucks into Dean at a furious pace, his knees slipping on the rough blanket. He feels his body pull tight, his cock thickening within the tightness of Dean’s ass. A second later, relief washes through him, a prickle on the back of his neck and the thick heat of his own come engulfing his cock.
Dean still squirms, moaning Castiel’s name against his palm like a prayer, pushing feebly back for more even as Cas collapses with a a sated sigh on top of him. A shiver runs through them both in turn and Cas pulls his hand from Dean’s panting mouth and leans in for an awkwardly angled kiss, still grinding his softening cock into the heat of Dean’s body as he does so. They lie in silence, with only the rush of blood in their ears and harsh breaths in the space between shared kisses.
When Cas finally pulls away, he lets his thumb pull at Dean’s lower lip as he whispers, “I fucking love your panties.”
Dean can’t bring himself to do more than whisper the dirtiest things he wants. It’s all he can do to make the words come out even in a whisper when he wants Castiel’s tongue up his ass or wants Cas to come all over his face. They’re not nice things, it’s not nice sex, these aren’t things he’s supposed to want. But, God, does he ever want them.
So with his lips pressed to the curve of Castiel’s ear, he whispers how much he wants those things he’s not supposed to want. With their bodies pressed under the covers and the feel of Cas breathing shallow and hot against his skin, he allows himself to want dirty things; more importantly, he allows himself to ask for them.
Cas never hesitates, no matter what Dean asks him to do. He missed out on the lessons Dean got about how sex is always sinful but some sex is extra sinful and, as a result, he’s happy to give whatever Dean wants. So, if his beloved wants to suck him off until half a second before he comes and then feel the full force of his orgasm, so be it. And Dean wants to grind against a pillow while Castiel’s tongue teases at his hole, then that’s perfectly acceptable, too.
He knows that for Dean, so much of the pleasure derived from these things lies in the fact that they’re dirty and wrong and he’s not supposed to want them and yet, somehow, he’s found someone who has no qualms about giving them to him. For Cas, though, it’s so much simpler. He enjoys the quiver in Dean’s voice when he asks, the uncertainty with an undercurrent of need though Cas has never, ever said no to anything he’s asked for in bed.
Castiel enjoys the way Dean moves so earnestly, his body giving away his secrets with trembling hands and ragged breath. He loves the spark in Dean’s eye and the sheen of sweat that raises over excited goosebumps when he whispers back “yes” to whatever Dean has requested. He loves the way his hands slip on Dean’s sweaty skin and the way Dean moans his enjoyment even with a mouthful of cock - or pillow. If for no other reason than the way Dean enjoys dirty sex, Cas would always say yes.
Dirty sex for Dean is about trusting someone enough to ask for the things he’s not supposed to want. Dirty sex for Cas is simply another - significantly hotter, though he’s not entirely sure why - way to enjoy his lover’s body.
okay, but honestly just Dean and Castiel accidentally bumping into one another at the front door of a little out of the way coffee shop one Friday morning and both of them smiling and apologizing and walking away thinking “man, he was cute, I should’ve gotten his number”
and then the same thing happens the next Monday and they both smile and apologize and leave thinking “man, he was cute, I should’ve gotten his number”
and on Tuesday Cas is kind of hoping he’ll bump into that cute green-eyed guy, but he doesn’t so he gets his coffee and goes on to work. then half an hour later, Dean - who’s running late - goes to get his coffee and is maybe just a tiny bit disappointed that he’s missed that cute blue-eyed guy.
they manage to miss one another for the for the whole rest of the week, too, because that’s how life happens you know? and then it’s the weekend and they both go about their business, doing weekend stuff and the “cute guy at the coffee shop” is just one of those crazy little coincidences that kind of drifts to the back burner and they don’t really think about it, just kind of chalk it up to a missed connection.
Monday morning, Cas is rushing to get his coffee because he doesn’t want to be late to work, but much to his surprise when he gets to the counter to order and pay, the barista tells him “someone already paid for your coffee” and he’s pretty confused by it because he’s only lived in town for a month and a half and he doesn’t really know anyone who would pay for his coffee. the barista won’t tell him who paid for it, though, so he just takes the coffee and leaves and smiles all the way to work wondering who it might have been.
Dean comes in ten minutes later and the barista - a soft-spoken red-headed girl with sparkling hazel eyes - tells him that, well, someone has paid for his coffee already. when he asks who, she’s like “oh, some guy. he was here about ten minutes ago. he comes in before eight every morning, never after.” Dean thinks that’s awfully specific information, but someone paid for his coffee so he doesn’t really mind. he DOES make a note to get to the coffee shop before eight the next morning, though, so he can thank the stranger.
Tuesday morning when Cas is reaching for the door handle, he realizes someone else is too. he looks up to see the cute guy with pretty green eyes smiling at him. the freckled cutie opens the door for him and they actually say “good morning” for the first time as they approach the counter. the same barista is working and when she sees them walking up, her face lights up in a big grin and she gives a thumbs up.
it’s not until that very instant that Cas and Dean figure out that a total stranger totally just set them up because they were too ineffective at finding one another on their own for her liking. after a bit of “um” and “uh” and such, each of them buys the other’s coffee and the barista - whose name tag reads Anna - gets a damned big tip before they leave. oh, and they do FINALLY manage to remember to exchange numbers before they go their separate ways at the coffee shop’s front door, smiling all the way to work.
