#ca drabble

[captainswhore]

i am a firm believer that the cod men like a spouse with a bush.... but i'm specifically thinkin about gaz.

he looks really clean- like, really, really clean. he's the type that, when he's home, showers twice a day and likes to feel clean and smell good. brings disposable wipes or baby wipes on missions to feel some semblance of that.

so, of course, when you walk in on him in the bathroom one day and see how squeaky clean he is, trimming his pubes before he hops in the shower, you get self conscious. he asks what's takin you so long in the shower after him because he just wants to cuddle once he's clean and home from a mission. he hears you yell "just a sec!" but puts his ear on the door and hears a "mother fu- how do pornstars do this? is it a regular waxing?" he's pushing the door open to see what the hell you're doing.

he finds you, basically doing the splits in the shower, trying SOOO hard to figure out where to even start to get your bush taken care of.

scoops his arm over the leg you have propped up on the tub, grabs a hold of you wherever you can reach when you start flailing, hears your razor clatter on the floor in your haste to grip onto him, and very (not) carefully, throws you on the bed. before you can even ask him what he's doing, he's got his head shoved in between your legs, takes one of your hands to rest on his head, and goes to TOWN. nothing can pull this man off of you.

"it's a personal preference luv," he says, when he leans back to take a breather from literally drowning in your cum, "that means personal.... i'm all for whatever you're comfortable with... don't change just cause you caught me shavin" and before you can even respond his fingers dig into that special spot inside you, and you cum so hard you basically see stars.

he tries to explain why he doesn't care about body hair on other people again, but he has to say it twice because you can't hear anything over your heartbeat in your ears and the panting you're doing after cummin that hard.

[transthatmasc]

When Cas gets back and finds out that Dean adopted a dog while he was dead he insists they get a cat too. Dean puts up a little fight cause he’s allergic, but Cas touches him on the forehead and says ��not anymore” and looks so pleased when Dean relents.

Dean is beyond thrilled though because for the first time he thinks this will make sure Cas always comes back and treat the bunker like his home too.

Cas is also secretly pleased that Dean was willing to let him get a pet to live at the bunker cause he can use it as an excuse to be around more often.

Sam watches this interaction with his hand on his gun because he doesn’t know if he should kill both of them or himself. (He still goes with them to pick a cat from the local shelter. He gets a laser pointer to make the cat run in between Dean and Cas while they’re having eye sex in the library)

[angel-fruitcake]

can't stop thinking about the concept of post-canon Destiel reunion where Dean confesses his mutual romantic feelings and Cas is so happy, don't get him wrong! but even though he's grown fond of this vessel that he's had for years, for some reason Cas can't seem to get past his worry and insecurity that maybe Dean isn't 100% sold on the whole idea of being intimate with a man.

so without meeting Dean's gaze, Cas hesitantly offers with a touch of sadness, "if this vessel isn't satisfactory for you, i-i could perhaps try to procure a female v-"

and Dean grabs Cas by his heated cheeks, promptly shutting him up with a kiss.

once the initial shock subsides and Cas finally starts to relax, Dean pulls back just enough to whisper against the angel's lips, "i want you just like this. this," Dean squeezes Cas' face for emphasis, "is the Cas that i met in that barn all those years ago. this is the Cas that pulled me outta hell." Dean trails wet kisses along Cas' stubbled jawline, pausing when his lips reach the angel's ear. "this is the Cas i fell in love with."

Castiel melts against Dean with a whimper.

[cruel-as-sin]

what happens when you say “i hate you” to different versions of logan (gender neutral) (smut version)

inspired by a conversation with @lostinlovingrevery, hope you all enjoy!

70s!logan

you’ve been having a really bad day. a really, really bad day. the last thing you need is logan brushing you off because he’s “got shit to do, doll.” so you say it, with a stomp of your foot for dramatic effect. you don’t mean it, he knows that. but you aren’t expecting him to also know exactly what you’re asking for, rough hands grabbing you by the hips and shoving you down onto the couch. he grumbles curses under his breath, fumbling with his belt buckle, and you can’t even process what’s happening before he’s pushing into you. the stretch, the burn, the overwhelming fullness, cause your eyes to roll back into your head. upon seeing this, a pleased expression comes to his face. your mind goes blank within moments, no thoughts except the man pounding into you, cigar still perched in his mouth, smoke blurring your vision as he grunts. “there we go. finally fuckin’ quiet.”

origins!logan

you don’t hate him, you hate the grocery store and those assholes at work and the guy who cut you off when you were driving home. but it just kind of slips out- you’re stressed, anxious, and your sweetheart of a boyfriend unintentionally becomes your punching bag. you’ve barely gotten out an apology before he’s wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. he studies you with a serious expression, hands rubbing circles against your hips. “you hate me, huh?” you try to reassure him that no, of course you don’t, but he won’t listen, the playful glint in his eyes betraying his true intentions. “seems like we oughta fix that.” despite your protests that you’re fine, he carries you to bed with ease, laying you down and using his tongue to work as many orgasms out of you as you need to be happy and satisfied. “feelin’ better, sunshine?”

animated!logan

it comes after he’s slammed you into the danger room floor for the twentieth time that day. you’re utterly exhausted, just wanting one fucking win, but he’s not letting up. he doesn’t take it easy on you- never does. you have a lot of respect for him for it, but goddamn does it piss you off. that was probably the wrong thing to say, though, given the way he’s staring down at you right now. “hate me? that’s harsh, bub.” something predatory flashes in his eyes. “must not wanna touch me then either.” you get to your feet, glaring daggers back at him. he draws it out with a smug smile, waiting for you to admit the truth- it’s not about if you give in, but when. you’re too proud to admit it- so instead you drag him to the nearest closet, sinking to your knees and unbuckling his belt. his hand fists itself in your hair, guiding your pace as he fucks your throat. he makes you take all of him, forcing you down to the base, grinning when you choke on his cock. “don’t worry. i’ll take this as an apology.”

trilogy!logan

you’re play fighting in the kitchen- a common occurrence as he tries to interrupt whatever you’re doing. today it borders on arguing, which is why the exasperated words direct themselves his way, punctuated by a “so much” for emphasis. he just looks at you, with his gorgeous face that has your stomach doing flips, taking a few steps closer until he’s invading your space. “that’s not what you were saying last night, baby.” the memory of last night, his touch and his filthy words in your ear, brings heat to your cheeks. his breath hits your skin, his mouth tantalizingly close to yours, the proximity making you squirm. before you know it, you’re upstairs, a smug smile on his face as he makes you fall apart with his fingers, begging and pleading for more. the way you writhe underneath him confirms what you won’t confess, and he hums in fake contemplation. “guess you don’t hate me that much after all.”

2013!logan

you want to go out into the city, he tells you it’s not safe. it’s a debate that’s been going around in circles for days until you finally let the words slip. his silence, paired with the flash of anger in his eyes, tells you that was a mistake, but it’s too late to take it back now. not that you would dream of it as he drags you to the bedroom, one rough hand grabbing your chin and forcing you to look in the mirror as he sinks you down onto his length. the other lifts your hips up then drops you back down again, a slow but brutal pace. it’s too much, and you feel lightheaded as he growls in your ear. “what do you say, sweet thing?“ still, you’re coherent enough to remember your manners, babbling incoherent thanks and apologies, reduced to a basic vocabulary as he impales you on his cock over and over. tears begin to stream down your face, and his firm hold keeps you there, made to see the way he wrecks you completely, the way you fucking love it.

dofp!logan

you’re tied down to the bed, silk rope binding your wrists and ankles. he’s been teasing you for hours. logan always likes to play with his food- slow, methodical, taking his time with you. and god, you enjoy it, but you’ve been good today and you just want your reward. the words are muttered, frustrated, and you’re grateful when he keeps going. you think must not have heard you by the way he’s bringing you closer and closer to that delicious peak, until his gravely voice is right next to your ear. “careful.” he takes your chin, making you look at him as he pulls his hand away from where you need it most. his eyes are serious, his tone a warning, one that only further turns you on. a whine escapes you, your hips bucking at just how close you are, how much you need this. “don’t want me to leave you here, do you, honey?” he smiles in satisfaction when you immediately shake your head, begging him not to do that to you. “that’s what i thought.”

old man!logan

you know you shouldn’t have said it. of course you know you shouldn’t have said it, but that didn’t stop you from doing it anyway. logan doesn’t move from the armchair he’s sitting in, whiskey bottle lowering from his lips. he raises an eyebrow, looking up at you with an unamused expression. “you done?” meekly, you swallow and nod, mumbling a sorry and thinking that’ll be the end of it. but you think wrong. he sets the bottle on the table, turning to face you again, something serious in his eyes. “c’mere.” he pays his lap. you move to sit, but he stops you with a firm hand against your thigh. “bend over, sweetheart.” your heart races as you realize what your punishment will be. you do as he says, and soon enough, your eyes are filled with tears from the spanking he delivers you. “you know better than to pull that shit on me.” he grumbles, clearly disappointed in your attitude. “don’t do it again, y’hear me? got enough to worry about without you bein’ a brat.”

worst!logan

you’re standing outside the door of your apartment when it happens. you’ve been lamenting to wade and vanessa about how much logan drives you crazy, with his stupid face and huge muscles and unfairly sexy voice. unbeknownst to you, logan is just down the hall, coming back from the grocery store. looking back, you’re fairly certain both wade and vanessa knew he was coming before you did, deciding to leave you to your cruel fate. it isn’t until you feel strong hands on your hips and warm breath on the back of your neck and a suspiciously familiar sexy voice in your ear that you realize the trap you’ve stepped into. “you’re hurting my feelings.” you turn around and are met with a fake pout. who knows where wade and vanessa went, all you know is that he’s backing you up against your door, continuing to get closer even as you stumble through apologies. “that’s it? you’re sorry?” he flashes a toothy grin, something predatory gleaming in his eyes. “come on, angel. i know you can do better than that.” he’s cornering you: nothing to do, nowhere to run- except, of course, his lips. so you give in, tongue crashing against yours, his body enveloping your senses. and trust me, he’s gonna make sure you never think a single damn bad thing about him again.

patch!logan

you’re in the casino, begging him to let you get in on a game. he says your job is to just “sit here and look pretty, darlin’,” but you’re getting really fucking bored. the moment the words cross your lips, you regret it. not just because you don’t mean it, but because you can see immediately that logan is pissed. he gives you a look the likes of which he’s never given you before, and nearly shoves you off of his lap. you wait by the edge of the table until the place empties out for the night, thinking maybe he just needed to get it out of his system. but even when the two of you are alone once more, he still doesn’t say a word, just leans back and spreads his legs- a command, and you must obey it. so you do. crawling towards him on your hands and knees, reaching up to undo his belt buckle. as you pull his cock out, beginning to stroke him, the tip of his boot presses against your thigh, and you realize what he wants you to do. you’ll do anything to make it up to him, including sacrificing your pride. so you do: grinding on his boot, pathetic whimpers leaving your lips, muffled by the way your mouth is wrapped around his cock. all the while he says nothing, staring down at you with a menacing expression, and the only thing you can do is pray that you’ll be good enough that he’ll show you mercy.

cowboy!logan

you don’t even remember what you were fighting with him about. no, that left your head the second the unimpressed expression took over his face and the words “that so?” left his lips. you nod- stupidly, you nod. then you step back, but it’s too late, his lasso wrapping around you and tugging you closer to him. “ooh.” he sucks air in through his teeth, shaking his head with a heavily disappointed expression. “that’s gonna be a problem, isn’t it?” he doesn’t let you answer, pulling on the lasso a little harder and sending you stumbling to the ground. he leans down to be face to face with you, jerking his head toward the empty farmhouse a few hundred meters away. “you’d better find a way to make it up to me, sugar. and fast.” when you still don’t move, don’t say anything, he frowns, clicking his tongue at you. “get to it.” and now his voice has that commanding tone, and suddenly you are letting him pull you towards the dirty mattress in the farmhouse, tying your wrists to the bedpost as he cages you in.

[prythianpages]

I’m catching up with work stuff but…I can’t help but think Cassian would be the type to “fight” with your daughter on who gets to cuddle you.

“She’s my mate.”

“She’s my mommy.”

“I loved her first.”

“Well, I love her more,” she’d respond with a pout and cute stomp of her foot.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh.”

And it just ends with all 3 of you cuddling (you in the middle of course.)

[saikiflm]

sambucky’s first encounter is very important to me because i can just imagine how flustered and embarrassed bucky gets whenever sam reminisces on the meeting.

When the kids ask the couple how they first met, Sam was already beaming to tell the story. Bucky knows that it’s one of Sam’s favorite story to tell but for him, as much as he’s thankful to whatever power above introduced him to this beautiful man he now calls his husband, he loathes this story. Only because of how much Sam likes to exaggerate the encounter and add in new details that surely wasn’t there last time and not because of how flustered and shy he gets when Sam describes how “badass” and “good looking” he was ripping that steering wheel from it’s hinges.

But when Bucky sees how soft Sam’s eyes get and how giddy and light his voice is—he falls in love all over again and wouldn’t wish to meet Sam any other way. So, with a small groan and a grin on his face he’s ready to hear whatever new detail and bask in his husband’s light that radiates off his skin as Sam tells the story of how they first met.

[wistericaine]

crush | theodore nott

theodore nott x reader | fluff | wc: 1133

summary: you try on dresses for rockstar!theodore's concert

“What’s that?” Theodore asked you curiously.

You were sitting on the bed with different boxes laid in front of you—different clothing designers that you had found yourself growing a liking too ever since you had started dating Theodore. One of them was a brand that focused on silk dresses, always made with beautiful fabrics that felt like heaven against the skin. The others had other different textures and designs—varying from elegant patterns to cute or more chaotic ones. “Just some dresses.”

“Dresses?” Theodore asked you curiously. “You used my card, right?”

You nodded with a dopey smile. “Course I did, I bought them for our dates.”

He smiled brightly and walked over to you slowly, leaning over the bed and kissing your cheek. “Thank you, beautiful.” he murmured quietly to you. “Can you show me the dresses?”

You nodded and grabbed the boxes to bring to the bathroom. “Which one do you want to see first?”

Theodore shrugged. “Whichever one you want.”

You chuckled quietly and walked into the bathroom officially, opening the boxes to figure out which dress to try on first. The first was a regular black dress with slightly thickened spaghetti straps, a slight v-neckline with a dark red rose in the center. The second was also a spaghetti strap with a similarly-shaped collar, a red silk fabric at the bottom with a flower-patterned sheer lace layered on top. The third was a black velvet dress, the backing like a deep corset cut with a ruffle to represent an angel's wings. The last was a vibrant, fitted dress with two small slits up near the top thigh—the front piece easo;y folding between your two legs much like how you might imagine a goddess’ dress too. 

You decided to save that one for last. 

The first option was going to be the red one, since you knew he might not like the color red the best. He always kept his vendetta against Gryffindors rather dramatically close to his heart—even though the both of you knew it was nothing serious. 

“Ready?” you called out to Theodore.

There was a soft hum from the bedroom before he spoke, your legs carrying out to the bedroom. Your hand leaned against the doorframe tilting your body just so the dress curved just right.

“Jesus Christ.” he groaned. He pounded his head into his pillow and yelled before coming back up. “You look beautiful, principessa. Absolutely angelic.”

You giggled quietly. “Just wait until the last one.”

“Are you trying to kill me?” he asked you incredulously—sitting up in the bed with a soft whine before sinking back in the bed. 

The next was the regular black dress, your fingers booping the red rose on the collar. “What do you think of this one?” you asked him with a chuckle. 

“Beautiful.” he whispered out. “Absolute perfection.”

You giggled quietly at that—hands moving to grab the third dress from the bathroom. “I have one that kind of looks like an angel's wings in the back, but it’s hard to tie in the back.” you murmured quietly to him. “Do you mind helping me tying it, please?”

Theodore groaned out again before sighing. “You’re seriously trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

“I can’t kill you before your show tonight.” you giggled quietly. “You have to help me figure out which one to wear to your concert.”

“You’re wearing these to my concert?” he asked incredulously. “My love, I’m going to faint on stage!”

You rolled your eyes playfully before taking off the dress you had on—putting the third dress on and caressing the velvet before walking over to him. “Tie it, please?” you asked innocently.

Theodore’s hands caressed your waist lovingly—running up and down the velvet before playing with the ruffles that acted like wings. “These are beautiful.” he whispered quietly, lips caressing your back for a moment before tying the back with a small bow. “This is amazing on you. You’re like an angel.”

“I love you.” you giggled quietly, squeezing his hand from around your stomach. 

He kissed your back again, his lips pressing against each crossing of the lace. “I love you too.”

“Do you want to see the last one?” you asked him curiously.

He chuckled quietly and continued to lay kisses against your body—hands caressing your stomach while running his lips up your back and towards your shoulders and neck. “Course I do.”

“This is gonna be the one to kill you.” you giggled quietly, kissing the tip of his nose before skipping over to the bathroom. You made sure that the dress was fitting your waist like it should, raising the collar just a bit before walking back into the bathroom. 

“Oh, principessa.” he groaned out. 

You giggled quietly and walked over to him, able to sit down in his lap because of the slip in the fabric. “Do you feel like a dead man right now?” you asked him.

“Definitely.” he murmured—his hands squeezing your wrists. “I want to take photos of you in the dresses. But especially this one.” he chuckled quietly, lips caressing yours. “Would you mind?”

You shook your head before bouncing up again—posing dramatically for the polaroid camera that he had inside of his drawer. One with your leg dramatically posing out of the dress’ slit, the others with your hands on your hips or your hands in your hair. 

“You’re so beautiful.” he chuckled quietly, taking photo after photo of you and letting it print out the camera. “I’ll make a moodboard of you.”

“On that corkboard over there?” you giggled quietly.

He nodded before showing you the photos. “Do you like them?”

“You should post those with an album cover!” you said excitedly, giggling at the idea of the album cover. “Imagine writing a whole love album about me.”

“I already am, though.” he chuckled quietly, rolling his eyes. “I have a song in mind right now.”

You raised an eyebrow confusedly at that, one of your hands laying on his arm. “Really?”

He nodded before positioning the photos on the silk bedsheets that he had bought you, borrowing one of your lipsticks and a pair of matching bracelets the both of you had made together. “Do you think that looks good?” he asked you, phone in hand with the camera app out. “For the album cover.”

“Wait, seriously?” you asked her confusedly. 

“Yes, vita mia.” he chuckled quietly—repositioning the lipstick before snapping a photo of the scene, showing you the photos that he took on his phone. “You really are good with ideas, you know that my love? This was a good idea for an album cover.”

“Theo,” you murmured quietly, your voice wavering slightly. “I love you.”

He smiled quietly and kissed your lips lovingly. “I love you too, cuore mia. Sei la donna dei miei sogni.”

thank you so much for reading! this fanfic was based on crush by cas (i wanna line my walls with photographs you sent / of you lying in your swimsuit on the bed) i kind of want to start a rockstar!au for theodore based on cigarettes after sex again? so i might make fic series a thing based on their songs if you guys wanted me too! if i expand the au. arctic monkeys songs so fits mattheo, and i think that blaise fits nirvana best. also, lorenzo is definitely the cramps in my head, since he always has such chaotic goblin activity in my opinion <3

© wistericaine 2025. do not copy, translate or claim any of my works as your own. reblogs + comments are so very appreciated! have a lovely day, love!

[strawlessandbraless]

Cas kissed every one of Dean’s freckles back into existence when he rebuilt his body after hell

[fbfh]

did you know that Dean wakes up one morning and realizes he has a fucking bombshell of a wife/husband/spouse, a cozy (slightly rural) suburban house, and not one but three fucking daughters???? Did you know that he woke up one morning to toddler giggles and little kid bickering and baby babbling????? and your girls come charging in hushing their little giggles so they don't wake up mommy and daddy and so OBVIOUSLY he has to pretend to be asleep so he doesn't foil their plan. he focuses all his energy on keeping his face and body relaxed, keeping his breathing even. they're whispering and babbling and Dean peeks an eye open and looks at the love of his life and these three angels with their daddy's attitude and their mama's heart. they have your eyes and his smile. they're... the best parts of both of you, and there's something entirely new and beautiful in each of them too.

Bobby Dean is your oldest, and her 4th birthday is just around the corner. She's 3 and 3/4 right now, and won't let anyone forget it.

Your second is Jodi John, or JJ informally. She's fought her way half way through the terrible twos and is already getting a head start on the whole 3 going on 13 thing.

Mary Cass, or Cassie, is your youngest. She's just over a year old, and wants to do everything her big sisters do.

And Dean is looking at your little girls, and at you. He sees the way the morning sunlight dapples in through the window and illuminates their tangled hair and disney princess nightgowns. Your face is all puffy from sleep, and you still smell like the apple pie you made yesterday.

it's real, he realizes. that pipe dream that apple pie life.

you gave that to him. you did that. you turned his deepest, most unspoken desires into a reality like it was nothing. and every ounce of joy and love and peace he feels every moment of every day, he owes it all to you. You try to tell him on occasion when he gets all sentimental on you, he deserves it. he deserves every good thing he feels, and he's so great with the girls, he's a natural dad and you couldn't possibly dream of a better husband to do it with.

Because at his heart, Dean is a family man. He's your family man.

[supernaturalfreewill]

Dean was in the middle of the sentence, but Cas didn't care. He walked away as soon as you entered the room. His cobalt blue eyes were narrowed and fixed on the cut on your cheekbone and the bruise surrounding it.

"Cas! What the hell? I was talking t—"

"Shut up, Dean," Cas growled over his shoulder, not pulling his eyes away from you. You were peering at him in vague confusion, your eyes a little wide and surprised.

"Cas, what's—?"

"Who did this to you?" he asked, studying the injury to the side of your face.

"What?"

"Who hurt you?" he growled in a low voice. "No one hurts you and gets away with it. Tell me what happened and I'll deal with it," he said, determined.

"Oh. No, no one. It's from a tree branch when we were running back to the car after the last case. It's nothing," you said.

Cas' head tilted slightly. "Are you sure?"

You laughed. "Yes, I'm sure. It's really from a branch. I'm fine."

Cas relaxed, his shoulders dropping. He lifted two fingers and gently pressed them to your forehead and the cut and bruise vanished instantly.

"Thanks," you said, giving him a small smile.

"Of course. I'm sorry I didn't know about it sooner."

You shook your head. "It was nothing. Really."

"I never want you to hurt," he insisted.

You gave him a fond look. "I appreciate that but, uhh—I'm not sure it's practical in our line of work," you said.

"Perhaps. But that's why I'm here." Prompt: "No on hurts you and gets away with it."

[babyboywilson]

cas is the one to lean in for a kiss; soft and tender and sweet against dean’s lips. but when he goes to pull away, something yanks at dean’s heartstrings. he grabs at cas, holding him steady so they’re breathing each others air. he’s not ready for the kiss to end. “one more,” dean murmurs against cas’ mouth, stealing another kiss. “one more,” he repeats a few seconds later, making cas smile against his lips. “one more, one more, one more.” and cas pulls dean closer, keeping his mouth against dean’s as he murmurs back, “you can have as many kisses as you want, dean. forever.” this time, cas kisses him deep and slow, as if there was no rush and nothing else in the world except them with their lips pressed together. “one more,” dean whispers, and cas kisses him again.

[museaway]

prompt: a well-meaning lie

Dean/Cas, 100 words

--

would you still love me if—

Castiel turned his eyes from the made-for-TV romcom and focused his squint on Dean.

“What does she mean?”

“Oh, that’s a test. Does he love her enough to stay with her no matter what?”

“So she isn’t a shapeshifter.”

“No, she was speaking figuratively.”

“Ah.” Castiel went back to watching the movie. After a minute, his head canted slightly toward his shoulder. “I have another form.”

“I remember. Wings, cosmic powers, real loud voice.”

Those blue eyes met his again and narrowed in unspoken question. Inwardly, Dean sighed.

“Yes, Cas. Even if you were a worm.”

[casdeans-pie]

I know it's been said a million times but

I really wish Cas had been human a while longer and been able to stay at the Bunker.

Dean teaching him how to be human would have been so SO good

And listen, I love Dean teaching Cas the romantic human stuff as much as anyone. but I think even better would be all the weird human stuff.

Because, c’mon those two are already so goddamn weird together anyway.

Like, explaining to Cas about 'all that crusty eye gunk' he'll get after a bad night's sleep. Or like, about blowing his nose (Cas's nose does that whistling thing one day and it nearly drives Dean crazy). Showing him how to clip his nails without catching his skin. How to cure the hiccups.

Cause like. Cas knows humans are weird. But he's never had to experience that weirdness firsthand before.

Also it doesn't occur to either of them that Sam could be teaching Cas any of these lessons.

If anyone is going to teach Cas about the weirdness of the human body of course it's gonna be Dean.

[missmarveledsblog]

A kind of sex education ( platonic cas x winchesters x reader)

summary : when castiel curious nature after watching adult movies leads to a strange string of questions and learning of their sex lives . 

warnings well there is really none just awkward sex talk . this is more a drabble   

What was supposed to be a normal ass day of research ended up more strange then any hunt well it definitely up there . She wanted to prove dean wrong but walked in on castiel doing his own research . eyes locked on the screen , while head tilted in confusion and a woman's moans filled the room making the two freeze to their spot. 

" is he watching..." her voice trailed off .

" porn yeah , we've got an angel watching porn " dean shook his  head .

" erm cas buddy that stuff is not for the communional area's more privacy of your own room " she winced as the sound of skin slapping got louder.

" if the pizza man truly loves the babysitter why does he keep  slapping her rear ?"  he turned to the red faced  hunters standing before him .  " perhap she has done something wrong" he added. 

" cas turn it off please" she asked quicker and louder ,making cas stand and her to gasp . " oh my ,dean does he have " she turned to the man .

" A boner yep " he snorted .

" Cas why are you watching this " she asked sitting across from him noticing his eyes trail to her chest.

" You can't watch porn in a room filled with dude's and Y/N " the older winchester chuckled wondering would sam believe him .

" I was bored and bobby told me to borrow a video out of his room" he looked even more confused what was wrong .

" Well good to know i can never look bobby in the eyes again " she felt her cheeks heating up giving the situation.

" Is sex like this in real life " he asked making her wishing she went on the supply run .

" no never , i mean the girls finish for one  and those moanS so fake " she snorted making dean shoot her alook .

" A Man never made you finish " he asked curiously.

" Cas you can't ask a chick that ... but yeah what "he said  turning to Y/N for some help .

" No they have not anyway's  cas sex is nothing like these movies their just fantasized version  that people mainly watch to well get off " she explained awkwardly again wanting to leave the room as soon as she could. 

" Alone so don't whip it out " dean added seeing the angel looking down at his crotch .

" Do you watch it " cas asked looking straight at her.

"  i mean yeah i do sometimes " she smiled weakly seeing deans face light up .

" That's hot sweet girl " he winked .

" that made it move " Cas looked down at his crotch .

" Oh kill me now " she cried as dean doubled over laughing .

" Do you like your rear slapped " Cas asked still filled with questions.

" ok ok why is this aimed at me " she stood.

" I mean trench coat baby has valid questions so sweetheart does spanking get you going " dean teased finding the whole thing amazing . 

" wouldn't you like to know " she winked before leaving the room before the angel curiosity killed her . 

" Hey i wanted to know " dean yelled just as sam walked in almost dropping the bag of groceries  when he had seen what was on the screen .

" Why are you and cas watching porn " he arched his brows .

" Cause he found it in bobbies room  and was curious and just to clarify he was watching it not me " dean snorted.

" Does Y/N like her rear smacked she wasn't clear on her answer " castiel asked standing and to full attention still .

" Ithink i'm going to go back to the store , maybe never come back " sam walked back out the door.

"damn it cas go fix that or have a cold shower" dean huffed leaving the angel standing confused to what was going on  and why everyone was so uncomfortable .

...........

To say dinner time in the bunker was filled with tension was an understatement . all eyes on their plates to bobby's confusion , hell Y/N hasn't looked at him once .

" Ok what the hell happened here  did you walk in on those too having sex or something " he gestured to dean and Y/N .

" No Y/N has never finished in sex " cas said easily .

" someone seriously just shoot me " she groaned.

" i'd let you finish princess " dean winked.

" Erm cas may have gotten his hands on a special movie from your room and it lead to some interesting question mainly aimed at our female hunter " sam explain.

" Pizza boy and babysitter really man " dean asked as bobby's eyes found his plate really interesting all of a sudden.

" I'm going to eat in my room and never talk to you guys again except sam " she ran out the room with her plate.

" Hey want me to join you for dessert" dean called .

"  Fuck off " she yelled back .

" Thank god we don't have a HR department " sam muttered. 

" She never gonna talk to any of us again " bobby face was beet red knowing his niece now knew what he had in his room .

" Who even has porn  dvds anymore " .

" I fixed my boner earlier alone like you said " cas said as the other  dropped their forks . 

" I'm joining Y/N , you guys deal with this " sam ran down the hall . 

" is he going to smack her rear ?  ".

" Ok no more porn questions ever watch it in your room in private and never tell us again and stop asking y/n sex questions before she  leaves us altogether" dean deadpanned.

" We're definitely going to hell for getting an angel hooked on porn " bobby mumbled. 

part two

[castieldelamancha]

"Do you regret it?"

A pair of piercing blue eyes find his in an instant. They are framed by a headful of white hair, Dean's own hair went white way before Cas, thinning slightly, but there is still enough for Castiel's fingers to gently comb through as the day ends and they lay together in bed.

Those blue eyes, now adorned with deep wrinkles, are still as alive as they once were, years ago, when they first met and neither of them would have been able to imagine they were going to end where they are now.

What only makes Dean even more sure about Castiel having kept a bit of his grace after letting it go for the last time.

Castiel doesn't need him to explain himself, of course. And it still gets Dean, a blow directly to his chest, it leaves him breathless, the telltale prickle of tears in his eyes, it leaves him speechless, to be known like this, so intimately, his very soul cradled by gentle hands from the moment they took him out of Hell.

It also isn't the first time he has ever asked the same question.

It was Castiel's first morning as a human, a permanent state now, no take backs.

It all scared Dean shitless.

Naked and entwined under the sunrise's glow, the first of many, and yet Dean felt it was more an ending than a beginning, thoughts running wild in his mind.

"Do you regret it?"

No 'good morning', no 'how did you sleep?', Dean had to open his big mouth and ruin it all first thing in the morning. Just in case he doesn't regret it, Dean had scolded himself, you can show him how clingy and insecure you can be.

Castiel had given him a bemused look back then, realisation slowly dawning on him. One of Castiel's hand found the one Dean had wrapped over his hip, their fingers tangling.

"I love you." That's all he had told Dean back then.

It was the second time and Dean had almost braced for the worst, but the walls remained as solid as they always were, the world kept spinning and his whole world was still there, safely tucked between his arms.

Castiel didn't say anything else. And it was enough, and maybe Dean could be enough too.

The memory washes over him and it seems to blend with the present moment as Castiel's hand finds his, just like Cas had reached out to him all those years ago. His hands have changed, rough with work, wrinkled and speckled with freckles, kisses from the Sun that Dean graces with his own lips now, raising their joined hands towards his face.

Castiel watches him, a reserved smile on his face.

"I love you."

That's all he tells Dean. He has told him so many times he lost count years ago and there is no fear now, the walls of their little home stay the same, and the earth keeps spinning and his whole world is now cradling his face between his hands, fingertips tracing Dean's own wrinkles.

This time around, though, Castiel takes a deep breath, gives Dean a reassuring smile, "I wouldn't trade a lifetime with you for an empty eternity without you," like he can read his mind he adds, before Dean can even say it out loud, "getting old is complicated, but I-"

"Still worthy, doing it beside you." Dean interrupts.

"Yes, Dean, exactly," Castiel nods his head, "do you regret it?"

"Never." Dean doesn't even let him finish the question.

Castiel laughs quietly, it's not a teasing thing, it's just this joy inside his chest, filling it to the brim, so big and bright it has to be let out somehow.

Castiel could tell Dean he is being dumb, that after their lives here are said and done they both know they will find each other again, in a place where time won't matter and all this aching joints and slow steps and poor vision will be gone. And still, he doesn't, it's not only about dying or getting old, is also about Cas losing such a big part of himself, his powers, his wings, Castiel knows that. The fact he himself has long made his peace with it doesn't mean Dean has stopped worrying about it.

So instead he says, still holding Dean's face, still following the deep lines of his wrinkles, "what would even be the point of flying if you weren't there waiting for me to land?"

"I love you too, Cas." And if his voice breaks and fails none of them pay it any mind, he wouldn't want to fly away either without a safe place to land.

[salsakiyoomi]

sakusa kiyoomi is a man of his routine.

wake up early, get out of bed, take a quick shower, have breakfast, go out on his morning jog, come back home, rest for a while and then go out to practice.

that's how his everyday went — boring, right? to set such a standard and actually commit to it thoroughly every day.

but that's how kiyoomi is, how he always was — a man of his routine.

that is, until you came along.

his alarm rang about fifteen minutes ago but he's still in bed, his arms wrapped around you, and your legs are wrapped around his torso, a tangle of limbs as your face is buried into the crook of his neck, whispering, "just five more minutes."

he doesn't know how he ended up like this, still in bed even after his alarm rang when he should be up and in the shower right now, but somehow, for some reason, he could never find himself being able to say no to you.

"you said that five minutes ago." he whispers back, his fingers running gently through your hair — this is how his mornings have been ever since you moved in with him, lazy and comforting with the both of you so close to eachother, and he would never admit it out loud, but he actually likes this — likes the warmth of your body against his as you mutter sleepy sweet nothings to him.

"i know." you mumble, placing a soft kiss on the skin of his neck, "this just feels so nice." you hum sleepily, continuing to place soft, butterfly kisses on his neck, your lips barely even touching his skin as you do so, "can't you just stay home today?"

he can't help but shiver at the touch of your lips, how soft it is and he grunts quietly, "you know i can't, baby." he answers back — you always ask him this question, every morning, the answer remains the same and you don't press it, he can't help but think that you maybe ask him this just to tease him a bit.

you hum in response, and he can almost imagine your pout, but nonetheless, you continue to place butterfly kisses on his neck, trailing slowly up to his jaw, "kiyo, you're off tomorrow right?" you whisper against his skin, your hands slowly and gently trailing up his bare chest, to his shoulders and you wrap your arms around him.

he hums in response, "yeah." his fingers are treading through your hair gently, and his hand is tracing circles on your back.

you smile sleepily, he can see the way your eyes are half lidded, and he guesses you're not exactly fully awake yet, "good." you murmur "we can have this all tomorrow morning then without a deadline chasing your ass." he can't help but let out a short laugh when you say that, but he's quickly cut off when you press your lips against his mouth.

it's a bit of a sloppy kiss, with your lips parted so his tongue slips in, it's sleepy and slow, lazy as you move sluggishly against him, and you taste so sweet, like that chocolate cake you had last night before you slept, and like that strawberry lip balm you wear all the time, and he can't help but get lost in your taste.

you pull away, a small smile on your face and you plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

he can't help but smile a bit too, humming to himself, "i have to go now." he tells you quietly, attempting to get your arms off of him.

you shake your head and press yourself closer to him, "just five more minutes." you murmur, burying your face in the crook of his neck again.

sakusa kiyoomi is a man of his routine, he sets a standard and commits to it, and more often than not, he doesn't like it when his routine is disturbed.

but there is always an exception to the rule, and for you, he'll let you break his routine, and mumble about 'five more minutes' even though he knows they won't be the last ones as you press more butterfly kisses to his neck.

he'll let you have your own routine disturb his.