pretty in pink

mutual's, followers and any other tumblrinas who see this, i have finally bitten the devil's trap bullet and...

I'VE CREATED A NEW SPN SIDEBLOG @turboheller

this blog, @all-or-nothing-baby, is my main; the first blog i created (however many years ago now?) when i was only interested in rebooping other folx spn/destiel related posts... since then, i have become a content creator of art and fic and poetry and edits etc—which has inevitably led me to dive deep into many other fandom pools (i have many other sideblogs now—feel free to ask me about them, or you can find the links in my bio if you wanna check them out!

ANYWAYS, AS NOT TO BE SPAMMING MY SPN FOLLOWERS ON THIS BLOG WHEN I OBSESS OVER OTHER/NEW STUFF I LIKE, I HAVE CREATED @turboheller FOR 100% SPN CONTENT; MY OWN AND REBOOPS OF OTHERS' STUFF. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COME FOLLOW @turboheller FOR MY CONTINUED SPN AND DESTIEL CONTENT!!! I WILL STILL BE CREATING LOTS AND LOTS AND REBLOGGING ALL OF YOUR COOL STUFF, I PROMISE!

...and then this blog can (and will lol) be used for my personal ramblings and to reboop anything and everything i like, as it makes so much more sense for me to have it this way.

ALSO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REBLOG THIS POST SO HOPEFULLY ALL THOSE WHO WANT TO SEE IT CAN DO!

thank you sm friends! <333

cassidy :)

.

Someway, somehow, Cas fucks like Dean himself taught him how. Like someone who's been perfecting his technique for literal years. Just—so fucking physical, y'know? Also, weirdly, Cas seems to know every single little thing that Dean likes, the stuff he's really into. Plus so much more stuff Dean didn't even know that he liked. Stuff he wants, lemme tell you.

Cas is both sharp and soft at the same time; as loving as he is filthy as all fuck, and just so damn eager for all of it—god, for everything—that it makes Dean wanna bust a nut.

Fucking Cas? Dean fucking loves it. 

Thing is though, at least to Dean's knowledge, Cas has only ever fucked one person before him. He fucked that chick, April, or whomthefuckever. The Black Widow rogue reaper bitch who fucked Cas then tried to fucking kill him. Dean wishes he could gank her all over again, every time he—seriously, fuck fucking Balthazar. But yeah, it's gotta only be her, right? 'Cause there is no way Cas actually fucked Meg, if we're being serious here. Not that Dean wants to be serious about that, fuck no. If Cas really did fuck Meg, Dean really doesn't wanna think about it. Ever. Nope, nosiree, fuck you very much. So it kinda baffles Dean, how the dorky lil'dude learned all this freaky, delicious shit that he knows. God, Dean's obsessed. But yeah, whoever the fuck Cas fucked before Dean, there is no fucking way he fucked them the same way that he fucks into Dean. Just—no. No way, no how. Not possible. Because Cas makes Dean feel like he's falling apart and being remade, over and over. It's like being reborn each time. Brought back all over again. Again. Nobody else gets to have Cas make 'em feel like that, gets that kinda lovin' from the angel, Dean is sure of it. He just inexplicably knows, somehow, that he's the only one. Profound bond, or whatever. That's some religious type shit right there, swear to the gods of classic rock. 

See, Cas fucks like he was made to fuck. As if he were designed for the task. Created cosmically for this one glorious, impure thing. Like he isn't an angel of the Lord at all but an angel of Sex. Like he's a colossal celestial being that's been crammed tight into a little (almost six foot, to be fair) sweaty, gorgeous meat suit, and the sheer level of want the dude experiences has him so fucking worked up that he's bursting at the seams, grace fucking fizzing beneath his skin and eyes glowing like two great big blue fireflies in the dark. Because that's what he is. He let's Dean know it, too; reminds him what an angel really is, and it is so unbelievably fucking hot that Dean almost can't take it sometimes, setting him off on the edge of tears every time he's on the edge. He does, though—take it, that is. Every damn time, oh fuck yes.

It's the sheer thought of this—and what's to come, all of it, everything, it all being as goddamn sinfully red fucking hot as it is to Dean—that has him coming like a horny teenager in mere minutes the first time Cas rails him into his mattress like a thing possessed. Rough housing Dean while softly murmuring sweet bullshit into his sensitive ear canal before sticking a slick tongue down his throat as he fills Dean up, up, up, holy fucking fuck.

Dean has had a lot of sex. Sex with a capital S. He has fucked a hell of a lot in his time, believe. All kinds of nasty shit and weird shit and vanilla shit. Yeah, Dean has fucked and fucked and fucked, in ways that add up to a whole fucking lot in his fourty odd years on that asshole Chuck's green earth. Like honesty, so much.

Those several minutes in the real, Actual Heaven though, that first time with Castiel? Before Dean was coming untouched like a burst fire hydrant as Cas pounded into his ass like a warrior angel straight out of dragging some sorry grunt bastard out of Hell? Fuck yeah, that was the best goddamned sex Dean Winchester had ever had in his entire fucking life. Hands down, no contest. That shit was truly biblical.  

And hey, you're never too long in the tooth for new experiences. Old dog, new tricks? Yeah, right.

Afuckingmen to that, that's what Dean says.

goodbye empty; hello love 🏳️‍🌈

(there's no such thing as 'clothes' in celestial realms)