Wrote a Destiel ficlet inspired by this post about how Dean and/or Cas would fold their clothes neatly before sex.
“Stop, stop.”
Castiel obeys—of course he does—despite the desire that still courses through him. Dean looks as wrecked as Castiel feels, his chest heaving with rapid breaths, lips a rosy pink from the kiss that started in the kitchen and ended up here in Dean’s room, interrupted only by brief pauses to remove articles of clothing. And yet… now it seems Dean has changed his mind.
Castiel takes a step back and tries to compose himself, to steel himself against the inevitable rejection. “Of course. If you no longer—” is as far as he gets before Dean surprises him by pulling him back in for a quick kiss.
“Hey. I didn’t mean stop stop,” Dean murmurs against his lips, even though that was precisely what he said. “I just…” He pulls away to look past Castiel’s shoulder, down toward the floor. “I got carried away on our way here, but… Our clothes. We can’t leave ’em like that.”
“Because of Sam,” Castiel realizes. “So he won't guess what we're doing if he comes back.”
He doesn’t expect Dean to snort like he just said something ludicrous.
“Look, if I get to have this,” Dean says, tugging Castiel’s hips against his own for emphasis, “then I don’t give a crap if Sammy hears me screaming out your name or sees me walking funny after. It’s just—I, uh. I can’t do this knowing there are clothes on the floor. I gotta—gotta fold ’em.”
“Oh.” It's endearing—or Castiel would find it endearing if a sudden inexplicable surge of arousal didn't threaten to take him out at the knees. “Of course, Dean. I'll help you.”
“Yeah? You don’t mind?”
“Not at all.”
Maybe there’s something in Castiel’s face that gives him away, because Dean appraises him for a moment, then winks. “Maybe you can convince me to wear a maid outfit for you sometime. Now, c’mon.”
It takes a moment before Castiel’s limbs are willing to cooperate, but eventually he joins Dean in retracing their path through the bunker and picking up their discarded clothes. Anticipation makes the air crackle between them as they return to Dean’s bedroom, clothes bundled in their arms—or maybe that is Castiel’s grace going haywire, considering the literal sparks that rain down over them.
Dean, it appears, has a knack for folding clothes quickly that Castiel doesn’t possess. He only has the time to fold his own tie and his coat before Dean tells him to keep undressing and hand him the rest of his clothes. In the end he stands there fully naked and fully aroused as he watches Dean’s hands deftly manipulate fabric into rectangles that fit neatly on top of each other.
“May I?” Castiel asks when the only clothes left to fold are Dean’s pants and underwear, which are—frustatingly—still on him.
“Yeah,” Dean breathes, eyes fluttering shut when Castiel steps forward, hand brushing against the hem of his jeans and soft belly skin that twitches under his touch. He pushes gently and Dean goes willingly, splaying himself out on the bed for Castiel to expose the rest of him.
Dean’s thighs are a revelation; so are his knees, his ankles, his cock. Castiel wants to touch, wants to taste; instead, reverently, he sits back and folds Dean’s pants and underwear while Dean’s eyes follow his hands, pupils blown. The moment he is done, Dean sits up only to tug Castiel back down with him. “God. Didn’t know that would be so hot,” he says. Castiel couldn't agree more, but in lieu of saying so, he lets his lips and body crash into Dean's.
True to his word, Dean doesn’t seem to care that he is indeed walking funny when they finally make it out of the room and find Sam in the library with headphones on. He does, however, avoid direct eye contact with his brother for a week after an incident involving laundry, a maid outfit and an unlocked door—but in the end, two out of the three occupants of the bunker decide it was worth it anyway.
I was hoping we will have new chapter of TW before the year ends🥺 but of course I understand you might be busy with your life, hope you soon will have more free time!
Could you please give a sneak peek? 🥺🥺🥺 really miss your work💓🥲
Hii, nonnie! Yes, I know, I know 🥲 I promised an update before the end of the year. In my defense, I really did think I'd have time to write, but then I had people deciding last minute they wanted to spend two weeks at my place and 🫠 My vacation time was no more. I hate hate hate to do anything when there's people hanging around me. Can barely work, let alone write, so. It's been hard to find any time at all.
I'm still going through some rewriting of the next chapter. There were parts of it I absolutely hated when I went back to re-read and decided to start some scenes from scratch. So that's still happening.
This little sneak peek is not really a sneak peek because it's a part I actually deleted from one of the scenes. It just felt like it wasn't working with the rest of it and I'm not sure I was loving the writing tbh. But anyway, I guess it gives you a little look into a KC moment in the next chapter.
Sorry if it's not the best, I wasn't crazy about it either (hence why it got deleted).
Klaus has scoured every corner of the world chasing pleasure, power, and beauty. He has known excess in every form imaginable. And still he finds nothing compares to Caroline Forbes when she is wholly unguarded, incandescent with want, unashamed of her own greed, and of the hold she has over him. She strips him of pretense, leaves him raw and exposed, reduced to something that is both primal and frighteningly human.
She could break him. Tear his heart out, crush his soul and ruin him a thousand times over, and still he would crawl back for more.
Once, that knowledge would've terrified him. He would've destroyed the source of his woes without hesitation. Would've carved his own chest hollow to remove every last bit of this inconvenient feeling as though it were a disease. Love was a weakness he spent centuries weeding out with meticulous, ruthless precision. Lovers and friends were discarded long before they could root, attachments severed before they could ever be used to threaten him.
But Caroline slipped past his every defense.
He did not see her coming. By the time he understood what she was to him, what she had become, it was already too late. It's as though she was born to rule him - and he has never once been able to resist.
And yet, it's not only the fire and the frenzy he craves.
As physical a creature as Klaus is, he has come to treasure what follows just as fiercely. Caroline folded against him. Her heartbeat steady beneath his palm. The gentle rise and fall of her chest against his.
In those moments, the storm inside him finally stills. Centuries of tension loosen their grip. The noise fades, and the whole world goes silent.
Even after a day as disastrous as this one, with Caroline tangled against him, Klaus finds the one thing that has eluded him for over a thousand years, the thing he has never been able to touch - not until her.
Peace.
Anywaaaaay! 🫠 Happy new year, nonnie! And here's hoping I can finally find some time to finish this goddamn chapter before the end of the month. 🙏
jesus fuck i forgot jar jar binks could speak and i just spent the last minute and a half thinking to myself "what the fuck is that noise" and i looked at my tv and there was his unfortunate face
