destielskygalaxypalace

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1

Dean kisses Cas.

The first time, it’s out of anger, pressed up against a brick wall, trench coat balled up in his fists. It’s raining, and Dean is bruised and battered and bloodied. A rib is cracked and he thought he might die, thought Cas might die, thought the whole world might end. Again.

He doesn’t know if the wetness on his face is rainwater or tears of relief or the warm blood oozing out from the cut on his head, but he does know that Cas’s lips are warm and soft and he’s kissing back with frantic urgency. He feels Cas’s heart pounding against his broken rib, feels his chest vibrate with a quiet moan that can’t be heard above the rain.

2

Dean kisses Cas again.

This time, it’s in the kitchen of the bunker at one in the afternoon, and Dean’s injuries are all but healed. He’s standing at the stove waiting for the edges of his pancakes to bubble so he can flip them over.

Cas walks in, yawning but freshly showered. He’s wearing Dean’s t-shirt and sweatpants, barefooted and padding across the checkered tile linoleum. As he pours a cup of coffee, a droplet of water falls down the side of his face.

Dean leans over and kisses it off of him.

Cas lets out a small, “Oh,” in surprise, turns toward Dean with just the hint of a smile, and leans in to kiss his lips. 

Dean takes the coffee cup from his hand and sets it back down, crowding Cas’s space until he’s backed up against counter. He kisses Cas open-mouthed and simple, no tongue, no rush; languid and easy like the Sunday afternoon it is. 

Cas sighs against his lips and grips the counter top. Dean glides his hands up Cas’s back, appreciating the feel of lithe muscles under worn, familiar cotton. 

3

Cas kisses Dean.

It’s been a long day of lazy gluttony, filled with flapjacks, and later, burgers and movies. Cas is curled up on the couch, feet pressed up against Dean’s thigh as they watch A New Hope. 

Dean shifts his gaze to Cas, watches him chew absently on his bottom lip as he stares at the television, unblinking and enrapt. He turns his attention back to the movie, a small smile on his lips.

Cas shifts on the couch, changes position so that he’s pressed up against Dean’s side, head resting on his shoulder. 

Dean wraps his arm around him, pulls him closer, and Cas entwines their fingers together at the side of his shoulder. His hands are rough and strong, a soldier’s hands, yet they hold Dean’s as though he might break.

Cas leans over and places a tentative kiss to the patch of skin behind Dean’s ear, and it sends a shiver over his body, makes him gasp and his heart wrench in his chest. Dean turns toward him just enough that Cas catches his lips. He moans lightly into Dean’s mouth and climbs on top of him, straddling his thighs.

There’s fire in this kiss. It’s not urgent or impatient, but deep and fulfilling in a way that little else is. Dean nips at Cas’s lips and parts them with his tongue. Cas cards his fingers through Dean’s hair, and Dean draws circles on Cas’s hips with his thumbs.

Cas breaks away and asks, “Bedroom?”

Dean picks him up from the couch and Cas wraps his legs around his waist. They don’t bother turning off the movie as Dean stumbles into the bedroom.

4

Dean and Cas can’t stop kissing each other.

They crash onto the bed, desperately shedding clothes from one another. For every moment they’re apart, Dean makes up for it with soft kisses to any part of Cas’s body he can reach.

Their foreheads touch as Dean reaches between them, strokes them together in a slow rhythm matching the pace of their increasingly ragged breathing. 

Dean kisses down Cas’s jawline as he gasps and runs his hands down Dean’s back. He murmurs a prayer to Cas against his skin, praises and worship and gratitude that he has no other means of expressing. 

They crest together with stopped breath, the word “love” slipping out of one or both of their lips which barely leave the other’s as they clean up with a t-shirt and crawl under the covers. Limbs entwined, they kiss and kiss and kiss until they doze between each one for longer periods of time, falling asleep to the soft, familiar press of lips against lips. 

[destielskygalaxypalace]

"Are you ok?" I'm actually tired bro. From the bottom of my heart I'm tired

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everyone is meeting me in the grotto

[destielskygalaxypalace]

“If you have time to watch Netflix you have time for a side hustle” my side hustle is relaxing so that my body and brain can heal from by this nose-to-the-grindstone bullshit. I refuse to feel guilty for being a human with the need to relax sometimes. my side hustle is no.

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The haunting ancient Celtic carnyx being played for an audience. This is the sound Roman soldiers would have heard their Celtic enemies make.

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this is a man who just lived through bingo and is now questioning everything

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I have been saving this since last year. Happy Earth Day everyone.

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I just found out the offspring of a goat and sheep is called a GEEP and they’re the cutest lil shits ever I want 200 of them

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By LabradoriteKing on Pinterest

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There's just so much I don't know about Tolkien's work

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i've been waiting so long / to be where i'm going

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Tumblr Code.

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chugging broken glass and lighter fluid would hurt less than looking at this

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Just realized that the reason I love making friends on tumblr is because it’s exactly how you make friends on the playground as a six year old. No, I don’t know their name but they love mermaids too and built this awesome sand castle. No, I don’t know their age but their imaginary cheetah is friends with mine. You like this show? You like this character?? You can sing the theme song really loud??? Here is a flower crown. Here is a juice box. You can share my time and I might never see you again but part of you stays in my soul forever. In my mind we’re still on the swing set and the sky is blue and nothing will ever be wrong again.

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