sittingbesideyoulikeasilhouette

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I still don't know what I'm wearing to the living room New Years Eve... I might not even go.

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i always forget "fuck" is a bad word. it's like a brother to me

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Merry Christmas, friends! Stay cozy 🎄❤️

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There are Italians on this site?

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calling my lover "mine" but not in the way that my toothbrush or notebook are mine, mine in the way my neighborhood is mine, and also everybody else's, "mine" like mine to tend to, mine to care for, mine to love. "mine" not like possession but devotion.

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Love me Harder

Here is a little snippet of the latest installment to my smutty Destiel fic!

All Cas does is nod as he reaches down and begins undoing his own button and zipper. Dean bends down and takes Cas’ left nipple into his mouth and bites. Cas moans and drops his arms to Dean’s hips. Dean continues biting and sucking the stiff pebble into his mouth and as he grazes over Cas’ chest, Dean reaches down and pushes Cas’ pants down.

“Off,” he murmurs, looking up at Cas as he takes his right nipple in between his teeth, and Cas dutifully steps out of his pants.

Dean wanted to take his time, tease Cas just like he had done to him, but he was nearly drooling at how badly he needed to see and feel Cas’ cock, so he quickly pulls Cas’ boxers down.

“Fuck, you’re huge,” Dean whispered, taking in Castiel’s thick and long cock, standing up proudly against his lower stomach. Cas’ cock was red and there were various veins snaking around the shaft and Dean couldn’t help but lick his lips, imagining how good it would feel to have Cas pounding into him. Dean is in his 40s and his refractory period is definitely not what it used to be, but he’s very pleased to look down and see his cock is hard and ready for round two. Cas yanked Dean forward and both of them moaned when their cocks rubbed against each other, the delicious friction aided by Cas’s precum. Dean felt Cas’ hand in his hair and a subsequent pull forcing him to look at the man who’d already gotten one mind-blowing orgasm out of him.

“And you are going to be a good boy and take every inch of me, aren’t you?” Cas punctuated his question with a thrust of his hips and Dean’s hand flew for purchase on Cas’ shoulders.

“Yes Cas, I’ll be good for you I promise. I need you to fuck me please, please baby. I need it,” Dean said deliriously, clawing at the back of Cas’ neck and shoulders.

“Shh, I’ll fuck you soon baby, I promise. I have to get you ready for me first, sweetheart, don’t want to hurt you,” Cas whispered in Dean’s ear and Dean was a practical guy and knew that Cas was right, but he wanted Cas’ cock bad, and he wanted it now.

“Now, Cas, please. I need to feel you inside me baby. Please,” Dean begged and started kissing Cas with every ounce of longing and desperation he could muster. He felt Cas’ hands on his ass, pushing up slightly and through his lust-fogged brain, Dean took the hint and jumped up, Cas catching him in his arms, and their cocks were now pressing against each other. Dean couldn’t help himself and began grinding against Cas’ cock.

“Wait Dean,” Cas choked out and it took all his self-control and might to not sink his cock into Dean’s tight heat right then and there.

“No. Now,” Dean demanded and in a second, Cas shifted Dean’s weight onto his left arm and brought his right hand to wrap around Dean’s neck.

“You do not tell me when to fuck you, Dean. I will fuck you when I have taken the time to prepare you first and not a second before. Do you understand?” Cas followed up his question by tightening his hand around Dean’s throat for a few seconds; Dean felt deliciously lightheaded as Cas gripped his throat and when he let up, a gulp of air worked its way back into Dean’s lungs.

“Yes, I understand Cas. I’m sorry. Please baby, please,” Dean continued begging and once again he saw a flash of light flicker in Castiel’s eyes. Dean hid his face in Cas’ neck and began tracing his column with open-mouthed kisses. Cas turned around and took the four steps until he was standing beside Dean’s bed. Cas placed his right knee on the bed and gently placed Dean in the middle of the bed, with his head resting on the pillows while he drew back. Dean immediately made grabby hands at him, trying to pull him on top of him, no doubt.

The rest is posted on Ao3, let me know if y'all want to read it!

#dean winchester smut #dean winchester fic #supernatural #supernatural fic #destiel #dean winchester x castiel #castiel smut

[sittingbesideyoulikeasilhouette]

his ass is NOT a mechanic!!

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anybody else going through life feeling like a dog that wasn't socialized enough as a puppy

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everyone's masc til they have to put on the customer service voice

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There could littlerly be a huge meteorite about to crash into earth and kill everyone. Yet ya all would just point at it and say "chiken little refrance" or some shit like that

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you have to understand:

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anybody else going through life feeling like a dog that wasn't socialized enough as a puppy

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calm down please

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Desolate

There is no heterosexual explanation for the many stolen glances between Dean and Cas over the course of 11 seasons, so this piece is me dipping my toes into Destiel territory. This is a season 15 fix-it. This is angsty with mentions of death and mourning. I'm thinking of having this be the set-up for an actual story but I want to see if people are interested!

Pairing: Dean x Cas

TW: death, loss, violence (Dean punches Sammy), grief

If you would like me to continue this please let me know in the comments!!

It happened 7 days after they’d defeated Chuck and Jack was assimilating into his new role. God. Capital G-O-D. His surrogate son was God and even though Dean knew that Jack would make a better god than Chuck ever had, he’d miss him. It seemed like that’s all he was going to be doing for the rest of his life, missing Jack.

Missing Cas.

He fucking hates himself for not saying it back. It would have been so easy; it’s been weighing heavy on his heart for years. I love you too. But what he’d said instead was “Don’t do this, Cas” and he will never be able to forgive himself. The first time he’d almost told Cas he loved him had been years ago, at the crypt, when Naomi was controlling Cas and he’d nearly killed Dean. Beaten, bloodied and on his knees, he’d almost said it. I love you, Cas. But instead, he said “I need you, Cas.” Both were true but Cas didn’t truly understand just how much Dean needed him. He can’t blame anyone but himself, honestly, because how in the hell would Cas know he loved him? He buried his feeling under cheap booze and women, and he always made it clear that he wasn’t gay. Which, truly, Dean didn’t think of himself as gay; sure, he thought some men were attractive, but he’d never had the desire to be with a man the way he did with Cas, he didn’t gravitate around them and let himself be consumed by their orbit. Cas had been it; he was the one that made Dean feel like maybe love didn’t have a gender or an expiration date, but he was too fucking stubborn to let himself have it. He was too scared to love and to be loved. And now it’s too late. He’s alone. Cas is dead.

Sam knew but he didn’t, tried to help you he couldn’t. Sam saw the bags under his eyes and the number of empty, scattered bottles in Dean’s room was excessive, even for him. Sam knew Cas was his best friend and he knew he was mourning him in a way he never had when he died before. His death seemed so final this team that Dean didn’t dare hope that he might be able to come back. Sam tried cheering him up, he really did, hey you want to go for a drive? We can listen to Metallica’s entire discography or hey Meat Man, how about some burgers? had been the last two attempts made by Sammy, one this morning and the other at lunch. Sounds like fun, maybe some other time okay, Sammy? and I’m not hungry, maybe tomorrow? Had been his replies and Sam smiled, nodded, and let him be. So, there he was, wallowing in his bed, when Sam walked in a couple of hours later.

“Hey man, I’m heading out to get some groceries. We’re making burgers tonight.”

Dean was tired, so bone-achingly tired, so he didn’t argue.

“Sounds good, Sammy.”

As Sam was turning to leave Dean called out.

“Don’t forget the beer. Grab 2 packs.”

“No, I’m not grabbing any beer,” Sam said, turning back to look at him.

“Sam, stop, we always drink beer. This is no different.” Dean said sitting up in bed and looking his brother in the eyes.

“This is entirely different, Dean. This situation could not be further from anything we have ever experienced before. You are drinking yourself to death, man. You need to stop.”

“You don’t know what I need, Sam. Go and get the damn groceries and some fucking beer!” Dean yelled and Sam looked hurt, but he wouldn’t budge. Dean got up and walked slowly over to him until he was standing right in front of him.

“Do it or I’ll go myself, Sam.”

“Dean, stop,” Sam pleaded, looking down at him with tears in his eyes, “I know you miss him bu-“ the rest of Sam’s sentence went unfinished as Dean’s right fist connected with Sam’s jaw and he fell backwards out into the hallway.

Dean looks down at his brother and knows he should apologize. Help him get up and apologize, he told himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything except tower over him. The rage felt warranted, and it made him feel alive for a second. Sam got to his feet and stared at his brother; there was no anger in his eyes and that made Dean want to punch him again.

“If punching me makes you feel better, then keep taking swings, Dean,” Sam’s voice didn’t waver, and it held no trace of resentment. Dean was sure Sam would let him beat him bloody if it meant he’d stop drinking and feel anything other than sadness over Cas. Dean considered it, he fucking considered continuing to beat the crap out his brother for no other reason other than he could, Sam told him he could, but there was a deafeningly loud boom and a subsequent clatter coming from the foyer than made them both immediately look down the hallway. Other than the noise, the red lights hadn’t come on and the alarm hadn’t gone off. What the hell was strong enough to break into the bunker without setting any of the warding off? Dean ran into his room, grabbed two guns and knives, and handed a pair to his brother. They walked side by side, eerily quiet, down to the foyer. Sam put a hand on Dean’s chest to stop him just before they turned the corner. Sam pointed to himself then signaled to the foyer in two quick motions. I’ll go first. Dean nodded and mouthed, I’ll cover you. As soon as Sam turned the corner, Dean saw a look of fear written all over his face, but he lowered his weapons anyway. What the hell was Sam looking at? Dean turned the corner behind Sam, gun pointed and knife ready, but the second he laid eyes on him, he felt like all the air had been punched out of his lungs.

“Cas?” Sam whispered and Dean dropped his weapons in a clatter at his feet.

There he was, just as Dean remembered him from a week ago. The only differences were that this Cas wasn’t scared, he wasn’t crying, or making deathbed love declarations. He was standing in front of him and Sam, wearing his trademark trench coat and a slight ever-confused look in his eyes. Dean knew that they should check, throw salt, holy water, silver, and a battery of other tests but what he did instead was shove Sam out of the way and head straight to Cas. Dean threw his arms around Cas’ neck and buried his hands in his hair. He felt Cas hug him back, almost instinctively, but instead of the usual arms around the torso, he placed his hands at Dean’s waist and pulled him closer. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, he could hear Sam sniffling from behind them and it suddenly made him realize he was crying.

“Shh I’m here, Dean, it’s okay. I’m here” he heard Cas whisper in his ear and felt his hands rubbing circles into the small of his back and he wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever.

After a few seconds Dean pulled back slightly, finally looking into Cas’ blues and for a second he thought of all the things hidden in the color – sapphires, the ocean after tempest, the sky after a rainy day, Dean’s favorite toy car that his mom and dad had gifted him on his third birthday and that he still had hidden away in his nightstand – he kept his arms around Cas’ neck but asked the question he knew was also on Sam’s mind.

“How?” he breathed, and Cas smiled. He removed his left hand from Dean’s waist and plunged it into one of the many pockets of his trench coat. He pulled out a small, neatly folded piece of paper. Fighting against the part of his brain urging him to keep holding onto Cas because the universe was cruel and he might disappear if he let go, Dean dropped his arms from Cas’ neck, took the piece of paper, and walked back over to Sam who was looking at him expectantly. Once he was next to him, he held the note in front of them and opened it:

I’m hands off starting now.

- Love, Jack.

#dean winchester x castiel #destiel #dean winchester fanfiction #castiel fanfiction #dean winchester smut #castiel smut #dean winchester fluff #castiel fluff #supernatural #supernatural fic #dean winchester fic #dean x castiel #sam winchester #Sam is the best little brother #jack kline