askbox ficlets

anonymous asked:

When Dean and Cas finally get together, Balthazar is ROLLING in it from all the bets he made. (Balthazar is definitely not dead. Nope.) On the other hand, when a month goes by and they haven't had sex, he has to pay up, and he is VERY miffed by the degree to which cuddling eclipses carnality in their relationship.

Balthazar thought for certain they’d be going at it like bunnies.

In the bedroom, up against a wall, on the kitchen table, in the shower, in any dark corner… really, the opportunities they had were endless. Surely they should have (repeatedly and blissfully) consummated their relationship dozens of times before the month was out. (Hell, Balthazar had figured on consummation immediately following the declarations of love.)

But after a month goes by… nothing. Balthazar would assume that they were just waiting, that sex was just over the horizon but imminent, but…

Dean and Cas seemed so settled. They’d skipped the newlywed ‘tear-each-other’s-clothes-off’ phase and gone right to 'married-for-thirty-years-cuddles’ phase. There was no build of erotic tension. There were no makeout sessions that got carried away until one of them called a blushing halt to the proceedings.

There was plenty of kissing, at least. The kind two people share just for the joy of being together and being able to lock lips, not the kind that led anywhere.

Balthazar is half-tempted to fly down there and demand an explanation for the lack of sex going on, but the expressions his beloved brother makes stop him.

Cas is, for once, completely and uncomplicatedly happy. He doesn’t seem to be missing anything or longing for something; he certainly doesn’t seem to feel his love life is lacking.

And if Balthazar is being honest… Cas has always been something of an odd duck, and when he really thinks about it, the idea of Cas engaging in carnality is even stranger than the idea of Cas not.

So he pays out the money he owes, grumbling about the wealth lost, but secretly?

He’s happy for Cas.

teaandsunflower  asked:

Sterek 1!!!!!! Pls

1. soulmates au

Everyone gets their mark - or marks - on their eighteenth birthday - everyone, no exceptions. Soul marks themselves aren’t a guarantee of sex, or even of romance - there are thousands of perfectly happy, platonic soulmates out there, so regardless of whether their soulmate themselves is eighteen or not, everyone gets their mark.

  Which is why Stiles is in a rage when he gets his - the mark burning itself into the skin of his leg at exactly four minutes past three in the afternoon. Marks are a personal thing, so when Stiles rushes out of the room to get to the bathroom, nobody follows; Scott simply pauses the videogame and Lydia barely even deigns to glance up from filing her nails.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Dean's having a nightmare, when suddenly he is interrupted by a sudden comforting warmth (so different from the searing heat of Hell) settling beside him. Cas has crawled in bed next to him, has wrapped him in his arms and wings. Dean's ashamed to cry, but Cas gently strokes away his tears, murmuring soothing words in Enochian until Dean feels better, and can fall into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.

It’s the best sleep Dean has had in a very, very long time. That doesn’t stop him from being embarrassed the next morning, or that night when Cas is standing by Dean’s bed in his pajamas come bedtime.

Dean doesn’t even bother to give a token protest, though. He doesn’t want Cas to take him at his word and leave, much as that would soothe his ruffled pride.

It does help that they don’t talk about it that night. Or the next, or the next. Before Dean knows it, a month of bed-sharing has gone by and the nightmares have dropped in frequency, easily soothed by Cas’s gentle touch and soft whispers when they do appear.

Dean can’t help but wonder, though. “Cas, what are we doing here?”

His voice is quiet in deference to the darkness around them and the closeness of their bodies. Cas’s face is inches away from his own.

“We’re sleeping,” Cas replies simply, and Dean wishes that was enough. He wishes that answer calmed the burning need to know.

“No, Cas,” Dean says. He shuffles minutely closer and tentatively rests his hand on Cas’s hip. He runs his thumb over the small band of skin between the waistband of Cas’s sleep pants and the ridden-up hem of his T-shirt. Cas inhales. “What are we doing here?”

“Whatever you want, Dean,” Cas says. The weight of those words hits Dean hard and he breathes out, stunned. He can tell Cas means it, completely means it, and there’s a thread of absolute certainty running through those words. Cas knows what he’s offering.

Dean leans in and kisses him. It’s not carnal, but it is passionate and open-mouthed. It’s a simple statement ‘this is what I want’.

Cas melts into the kiss with a soft, blissful sigh.

tovelinen  asked:

Could you do 11, please?

11. partners in crime au

Derek rolls over with a groan when his phone blares to life, the specifically set tune demanding his attention when he’d usually just shut off the ringer and bury himself back under his pillow.

  “What?” he asks, forcing his voice to lilt at the end so that it sounds like a question rather than an aggressive statement.

  “Derek–shit, oh, fuck–” Stiles’ breathing is heavy and Derek’s eyes snap open.

  “Stiles, it’s three in the morning, I don’t think now’s the best time for–”

  “Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Stiles says frantically. “I’m not–that’s not why I’m calling–I’m in trouble. I’m in trouble, because I tripped a silent fucking alarm and I think they have dogs? I’m kind of–shit!” There’s a bark in the background and a sound like Stiles has just full-body collided with something. “Okay, they definitely have dogs.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Dean doesn't understand the significance when Cas presents him with a single, pristine black feather - but he keeps it in a box with his treasured possessions, just because. It's not until years later that Cas informs him that it's one of his own feathers, given to Dean to express the significance of the connection he felt to him.

Dean doesn’t have anything like a feather to give to Cas, nothing to really return the sentiment with, except…

The night Cas explains (in a hushed voice) what the feather means, Dean takes his ring off and slides it on the fourth finger of Cas’s left hand. Cas’s breath catches and Dean holds Cas’s hand in both of his.

It’s not quite the same, but it’s close enough. Dean wants to ask if this is ok, if he’s presuming too much, because Cas gave him that feather years ago and what if-

But he can’t. His throat’s all closed up.

Cas must see the questions, the fear in his eyes. Cas leans in and places a gentle, sweet kiss to Dean’s lips.

Dean melts. His fears flee. All that’s left is the warmth of Cas in front of him and the taste of his angel’s mouth on his lips. Dean wants to laugh at how they’ve done everything backwards - death, marriage, then their first kiss - but somehow it’s so perfectly them.

And they have a lifetime ahead of them to live, together.

lsildur  asked:

destiel suits

He puts on so many disguises that he feels more comfortable in a borrowed name and a cheap suit than in his own worn jeans and faded flannel. Somewhere along the way, he’d learned to be an FBI agent, a cop, a soldier, a brother and forgotten how to be Dean. 

But stripped of his layers and disguises, with Cas whispering his name reverently into his skin, he feels like could someday remember. 

sammyswolf  asked:

Shameless gonna ask for a drabble with Wolf and Toad. 8)

I was totally listening to Three Days Grace I hate Everything About You when I wrote this, can you tell? Also Toad/Wolf is so much fun to write, it should be criminal. 

Wolf was used to feeling angry. Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been genuinely happy, or at least completely happy anyway. Feeling pissed off and removed from the world was a daily feeling, so ever present that he didn’t think he was capable of feeling any other way anymore. 

Being around Toad made that anger increase ten fold. He was everything Wolf hated. Loud, opinionated, arrogant beyond belief. A man who thought he was God’s fucking gift. A bloke who seemed to believe that you could coast your way through life without giving a single thought to the consequences of any of your decisions. Spontaneous, brash, often immature, dealings with Chris usually left Wolf balling his fists and biting his lip in irritation. 

And yet, there were still those moments. Brief and rare, when the desire to kill Toad was overpowered by something else. By something stronger. By pure, unadulterated lust. By a desire for dominance, for control, to wipe that smug, shit eating grin from Toad’s mouth and replace it with his cock. It had only happened a handful of times, but fucking Chris was beginning to feel like a drug, like an addiction. A hit that seemed to grow in intensity with each and every orgasm, and yet its potency would always wear off so much quicker too, leaving him feel wanting for it to happen again. Each time he told himself would be the last, but the things Toad did to him, the way it all just made him forget… It was simply intoxicating. 

All this was flying through his brain as he threw Toad up against the closed door of his bedroom, his hands scrunched up in the shorter sniper’s shirt. His kiss was brusing, his mouth possessive, demanding and unrelenting all in one, but Toad seemed to relish the feeling, his lips moving against Wolf’s with compliance but never submission. He got off on their ‘sessions’ just as much as Wolf did, and although he always allowed Wolf to be in control, he never gave away that privilege willingly. That was the one part that Wolf enjoyed the most. The thrill of the chase, the fight for dominance. Somehow that felt like much more familiar territory. After all, he’d been fighting for the majority of his life. 

Feeling angry, Wolf could handle. But the conflicted cocktail of emotions, morality and everything in between that fucking Toad gave him was something else. It left him feeling bitter, confused and ridiculous all at once. And yet no matter how much he told himself otherwise, he’d never really give it up, because with all of that, fucking Toad was the most human he had felt in years. 

I hope I didn’t destroy Wolf too much! I’m still a little new to writing him haha. :D Cheers hunni. <333333333333

annaofaza  asked:

Castiel and Dean make sure to have a date night at least once a week. With all the hunting and researching, there's always a chance to say 'I'll make it up next time,' but Sam notes that they never skip on that date. Sometimes they do small things, like ordering a dessert to share after a hunt, or a large one, with the whole candles and dinner and movie shebang. It doesn't matter how big or how little it is. They just want a moment to themselves.

Sam does his best to stay out of their way on these nights.

It’s not that he disapproves. Quite the contrary; he’s never seen Dean or Cas happier, and he couldn’t be happier for them. Things feel settled, somehow. Secure. This feels like a forever kind of deal.

If Sam is being perfectly honest, that’s exactly why he tries to give them their space on date night. There’s something timeless and almost intimidating about how serious they are about each other, and something amazing about the way they manage to make the world shrink to just the two of them on date night, even if they’re in the middle of a crowded diner with a single dessert between them.

It makes Sam want something like that for his own. He is a little envious of them, even as he’s ecstatic that they stopped dancing around this.

annaofaza  asked:

Dean's used to a "wham, bam, thank you ma'am," so at first, he balks when Cas asks him on a date—a dinner and a movie—then gently sits next to him on the bed. Cas leans in and presses the gentlest kisses against his skin, slowly, slowly, too slowly. Dean closes his eyes and tries to get Cas to speed it up, squinting under such attentiveness, then breaks down when Cas says, "We have the rest of our lives, Dean, and I'm not going anywhere, and I never want to leave you."

It has been a long, long time since Dean’s done the dating thing. He tried it a few times in high school, but back then he was usually only after one thing and the girls he dated were of a similar mindset. When he got older and could start seriously trawling bars for hookups, even the dating pretext got dropped.

So it’s weird, doing the dating thing in his thirties with a dude-shaped multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent. They go to a movie theater (Cas even holds his hand), then to dinner, and then it’s back to the bunker and Cas follows him into his room and this is usually the part where Dean would get naked and help his date undress, but-

This time, Cas just sits next to him and kisses him. Dean wants to speed things up, get to what he knows, but Cas keeps the kiss slow and chaste, so sweet.

It’s a kind of adoration Dean has received so rarely in his life, a kiss that’s meant not as a prelude to carnality, but just because. Because Dean is worth kissing. Because Dean is loved.

“We have the rest of our lives, Dean,” Cas whispers into Dean’s mouth. “And I’m not going anywhere. I never want to leave you.”

anonymous asked:

His anniversary with Cas is the first time that Dean paid attention to any sort of anniversary. And he's glad, when he brings Cas that stuffed bear and coffee mug (unoriginal as they are), because Cas has spent the past several hours baking him a number of pies, and just... Wow. He loves him so, so much.

They eat the pies together while Dean brings out another round of movies to introduce Cas to.

Little actual movie watching gets done, however. They’re both a little more distracted by the pies… and each other.

It’s sweet and uncomplicated, and Dean is ten kinds of glad that Sam and Kevin cleared the bunker for the night, because it’s awesome to be so openly affectionate with Cas. He’s not comfortable doing this in front of anyone yet, not even his own brother, but when it’s just him and Cas?

Yeah, Dean never thought he’d be that guy, cuddling on the couch, trading bites of pie with the person in his arms, ignoring the movie in favor of lazy kisses that Dean knows perfectly well will go nowhere.

Well, that isn’t exactly true. One kiss will lead to another, and another, and if the final destination is just more kisses?

Dean doesn’t mind that one bit.

anonymous asked:

Sometimes Dean is a bit self-conscious about his soft middle, but Cas is always quick to cheer him up.

Cas likes that Dean is a little soft around the middle. Cas loves that Dean’s rough edges are getting softer, that his armor is coming down, that Dean trusts him enough to be this with him and not think Cas will judge him for it.

Cas shows his appreciation for it any way he can. One of his favorite things to do is slowly kiss every part of Dean, to worship him with his mouth and murmur praise into every inch of skin.

It makes Dean squirm when Cas passes his lips over the gentle swell of his stomach, but Cas is extra attentive here because he loves Dean’s softness, in any form.

anonymous asked:

Dean pretends that he doesn't enjoy the nights when Cas ends up completely wrapped around him, clinging to him. (Cas knows better. He can sense that it relaxes Dean, even if Dean complains a little in the morning.)

Cas is like an octopus. The only time Dean really minds is when he wakes up with an urgent need to use the bathroom (for one reason or another).

Even on the mornings when Dean wakes up but his arm or leg stays asleep, Dean can’t bring himself to care too much.

It’s all worth it for the sight of Cas’s face relaxed in sleep, inches from his own. It’s worth it for the way Cas scrunches his nose and nuzzles into his pillow and closer to Dean. It’s worth it for the way Cas sleepily responds to Dean’s kisses as he wakes up, and the way he always grumbles about needing five more minutes before Dean can go and bring him his coffee.

anonymous asked:

headcanon: dean gives killer backrubs and likes to rub cas's shoulders after a hunt

Dean’s not sure why (he suspects it has something to do with Cas attempting to use wings he no longer has), but Cas’s shoulders are always knotted all to hell after a good hard hunt.

That’s not to say Dean’s shoulders are never in a similar state, but Dean is a) used to it, and b) doesn’t suffer it as often as Cas.

It’s become their little post-hunt tradition. After they’re all patched up (and assuming Dean’s hands aren’t damaged too badly, and Cas has no injuries that would prevent them from doing this), Dean gives Cas a shoulder massage.

It’s a nice way for them both to unwind, to take comfort in the other’s continued existence (their continued here-ness), and to Dean, there’s little more satisfying than seeing Cas go boneless and content beneath his hands.

anonymous asked:

dean teaches (or attempts to teach?) cas how to cook basic meals, and cookies, AND PIE BECAUSE PIE (the attempt part is there because i'm still not sure if cas would ever quite get the handle of it, but at the same time i'm in the club that believes that cas can be quite awesome at anything if he puts his mind to it, so >w<)

Cas is, of course, skilled with any kind of blade, but there’s more to cooking than slicing vegetables into roughly even pieces.

At first, Cas is hopeless with spices, always adding too much or too little. Dean’s choked down a few dinners where the food was saturated with too much of the wrong spice to be palatable. He’s also eaten dinners where he had to bite his tongue to keep from asking if Cas could pass the salt and pepper (and garlic powder and basil and a few other things, while he was right by the spice cabinet).

He has the same problem with rice and noodles (and let’s all just forget the time Cas tried to cook rice the same way he’d cook spaghetti). Any meat he cooks tends to end up at the table in bite-size pieces because of all the time he had to check to make sure all the pink was out.

Still, Dean doesn’t mind. He likes sliding up behind Cas and watching him work, likes teaching him how to toss sauce and pasta properly in a frying pan (though the less said about Cas’s first attempts, the better).

And over time, Cas gets better. Dean’s still the master chef of the family, no doubt, but Cas improves and soon, Dean doesn’t need to stand behind him and tell him ‘little more… a little mo- no, stop!’ every time he goes to add spice.

Dean still stands in the kitchen and watches him work. He still takes his place behind Cas, his front pressed to Cas’s back. (Even better, sometimes they cook more complicated dishes together, and there is nothing like watching Cas roll out pasta dough while making marinara sauce and asking Cas to taste test.)

anonymous asked:

Dean and Cas both like their burgers. Cas is far more receptive than Dean to Sam's attempts to get them to eat their greens, but he also chuckles at Dean's disgust whenever Sam offers them some of his salad, or insists that they include some sort of fruit or vegetable with their red-meat meals.

Sam, of course, then starts teaching Cas about all the wonders of proper nutrition, and what a diet composed mainly of red meat covered in cheese followed by fruit drenched in syrup and butter-filled crust will do to a human body.

Cas is an excellent student.

It isn’t long until he starts wielding those baby blues of his as a weapon and Dean starts finding himself ordering the side salad instead of onion rings, skipping that second helping of pie, and ordering an Arnold Palmer instead of another beer.

It isn’t much, but it makes Cas smile, and Sam’s triumphant little-brother smile every time Dean makes a healthier choice than was his previous wont can’t cut into Dean’s pride at that.

elfybelfry  asked:

Dean learning Cas to swim...?! Cas being chest-deep in cold water with his arms stretched out on either side, parallel with the surface, and full of second thoughts. He's not at all happy that this supposed floating in a body cold water is, so far, nothing at all like flying and would rather cheat his way back to dry land. But finally Dean manages to coax him into doing a few breastsrokes, and thus realising he actually enjoys it. Reward is bog, fluffy towels...

Cas feels oddly hesitant at first about getting in the pool. Last time he’d been near so much water, he’d been walking into the reservoir to release the Leviathan and had nearly died. He’d certainly lost himself for months.

He can see the shadow of those memories in Dean’s eyes, but perhaps that is what makes Dean so determined to teach Cas how to swim. It had never been necessary before; as an angel, Cas could fly, breathe only when and if he chose, and mere water could not harm him. He was in no danger of drowning, nor had he any need to swim.

And then his Grace had been taken from him.

Still, it’s not entirely terrible, learning how to swim. Despite the coldness of the water, Dean is warm and present at his side. For that feeling, Cas would do anything.

anonymous asked:

Cas mourns his trench coat when he loses it during a hunt - though, of course, it was more important that he help slay the monster than that he keep some superficial piece of clothing. Still, it warms his heart when a few days later, Dean presents him with a brand new tan trench coat, almost exactly the same shade and style as his old one.

Human lives are far more important than an object. Even if it was the coat Dean carried with him those months Castiel couldn’t remember his own name.

He feels oddly naked without it, those few days before Dean surprises him with a new one. Even with a hoodie on over his flannel and Tshirt, he still feels underdressed.

The coat Dean brings him isn’t exactly the same as Jimmy’s old coat. There are small differences, but Cas prefers it that way. It’s not Jimmy’s coat, it’s not a coat Dean carried with him, it’s a coat Dean gave him, that Dean picked out specifically for him, that Dean bought simply so Cas could have some of that security back.

It’s perfect in every way.