listen, the smut was absolutely excellent but equally as good was cas vs the google search engine
four months later i see this message in my inbox for the first time
and omg i freaking love that part.
–
Hello, Google. Do you have pictures of Dean Winchester?
He pressed enter.
A small dinosaur appeared on his screen, along with a message saying he had no network connection. He already knew that; Angel Radio went offline a long time ago.
Castiel wondered if he Googled wrong, so began again.
Pictures of a slim, muscular white man with brown hair, green eyes, bowed legs, and freckles?
The dinosaur appeared again.
“Should I just imagine him?” Castiel asked the dinosaur.
The dinosaur said nothing.
“Hm.”
Castiel leaned back on the couch arm and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, leaning forward again as he unlocked the phone and opened his browser.
Dean once suggested Googling with simple terms and fewer words, so Castiel tried that.
Freckles?
Dinosaur.
Castiel frowned now. Either Google was presenting him a dinosaur to tell him he was too old to masturbate – possible, given he was very old indeed – or ‘network connection’ meant something about the computer, not about Angel Radio.
So Castiel called Dean, and held the phone to his ear.
–
fic link: Good For You (11k canon!verse Destiel smut)
Good For You
Cas wants to try masturbating, Dean talks him through it over the phone
Sometimes, when in the business of killing monsters, and occasionally having monsters kill you back, the safest place to go was where monsters didn’t think to go.
This was why Sam, Dean, and Castiel were hiding out at Rufus’ cabin, and had no intention of leaving for at least two… maybe six days.
There wasn’t a lot to do in Rufus’ cabin, besides watch TV, but the TV was broken. There was a rickety old bunk bed in the mustiest corner of the room, and a big old couch in the middle that still sported Dean’s ass print from when he had a broken leg. Sam kept the fire stoked with logs from the nearby barn, and Dean kept pizza on the table.
Castiel, however, sat on the couch, ankles crossed with his legs stretched out, reading the third of the five men’s fashion magazines Dean had brought back along with the aforementioned pizza.
Castiel glanced up from his magazine as Dean emerged from the tiny bathroom, fully clothed but scrubbing his hair dry with a towel. Castiel had been waiting to speak, and now Dean was here, he announced: “I think,” he began, “I’d like to try masturbating.”
Dean froze mid-step, foot in the air.
Sam looked up from his TV-tinkering.
“This magazine says that it can improve a low mood, and I have been feeling somewhat down since I lost my wings.” Castiel pondered the featured article again, examining the headline ‘Top 10 Reasons Why Jerking Off is Good For You’. “The only thing is, I’m not fully convinced I know how.”
Dean’s breath stuttered. He glanced to his brother, then slipped his damp towel off his shoulders, tossed it on the back of a dining chair, then strode towards the door. “Well, I’m going out. You got this, Sammy, right?”
“What?” Sam yelped. “No?!”
“Yeeah, you do,” Dean said, in the tone of a big brother encouraging a younger brother to do a particularly difficult section of schoolwork. “You’re practically an expert.”
“Um? No? Dean, Dean—! Heyheyhey, wait— Wait—!”
Dean put on his leather jacket and strode out in unlaced boots, door slamming behind him.
Sam made a quiet sound of dismay, standing up beside the TV, screwdriver blade in hand.
“Are you an expert?” Castiel asked, eyebrows raised.
Sam turned to Castiel with a plain, half-strained smile. “You know, I’m really not the best person to ask about this— Maybe you could look it up, you know, on… Google.”
keep reading (11k)
predestiel dean catching cas in the shower masturbating cas knows he's there but waits till he comes to turn around
steel-and-wings:
Oh my God, this my first dirty prompt. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. Thank you, nonny! I feel big time now.
There are fucking rules when you’re on the road, man. There are rules about not holding everyone else up, there’s rules about if you’re going to get laid, and there are rules about hogging the damn shower. And, apparently, Cas doesn’t understand this shit cause he can usually just mojo his ass clean and leave it at that. But right now he’s drained and forced to use the same facilities as Dean and Sam.
But Cas has been in there for no less than half an hour and some other people would like to get the chance to scrub up before Sam gets home with the next pile of information. Dean approached the bathroom, fully intending to smash on the door and demand entrance, but stopped when he saw that it was slightly open.
If someone were to ask why he just went on in, Dean would have claimed insanity. How often did you see a bathroom door open? It was just…bizarre. And what else were you supposed to do besides go in an open door? It’s a fucking invitation! And what was what he would stick with.
The room wasn’t particularly steamed up and it was completely silent except for the sounds the water beating down on fiberglass. Dean turned towards the shower and he wasn’t sure how to feel when he saw that the glass was heavily frosted. Despite the low visibility, he was distinctly aware of the repetitive motion and what that meant.
“Cas?” The sound came out of his mouth before he could stop it. Dean took a step forward, watching as Cas stroked his hand over his cock. If he heard Dean (he had to have heard him, he hadn’t been subtle), he showed no signs. He just kept on his groove, slowly twisting his hand at his head.
Dean licked his lips when he heard Cas’ gentle moan. The hunter felt his dick twitch and knew he was losing the blood in his brain instantly. This was hot. Fuck, this was really hot. Cas brought one hand up to the side of the shower, bracing himself as he fucked into his hand, noises piling up on one another. He wasn’t trying to be quiet.
Fuck, Cas wasn’t trying to be quiet.
A bolt of lightning seemed to shoot through Cas, halting his motions, his position. He stayed as he was, back arched and hand stilled, as he let out a sound that was fit for a heavenly chorus. Dean swallowed and cursed the fact that he couldn’t see Cas spraying the wall.
After a long moment of everything being perfectly still but the water, Cas slumped his head against his braced forearm and turned his gaze towards Dean. Even through the frost glass, Dean could swear he saw the intensity in Cas’ eyes. ”Forgive me, Dean,” Cas panted. ”I didn’t see you there.”
heyacas:
fallen cas in the bunker steadily accruing a huge collection of sex toys that he hides in his sock drawer
he’s got pretty glass plugs, bullet vibrators, even some nipple clamps, but his pride and joy is his array of dildos
his favorite is a deep jade green, long and thick, though he’s also partial to the shimmery blue one and the clear glass one with rainbow bumps all down the shaft
dean walks in on him one night when he comes in to ask cas what he wants for dinner, finds cas bouncing himself on his favorite dildo, another in his mouth, fucking himself at both ends
he’s panting and his eyes are closed and he hasn’t seen dean yet and all dean can do for a full minute is stare until cas lets out a loud, low moan
then dean’s too turned on to think and he finds himself climbing onto the bed and cas’ eyes snap open
dean begs please, cas, wanna touch you, you look so good like this, please let me touch you
cas groans and nods and then dean’s yanking the dildo out of cas’ mouth and dropping it on the bed, pressing their lips together, running shaking hands down cas’ body
he wraps one hand around cas’ cock and groans when he finds it slick with precome, uses the other hand to tweak and pinch cas’ pretty pink nipples and then he takes cas’ lower lip in his mouth and bites and cas is done for, coming all over dean’s hand
dean’s already forgotten all about dinner by the time cas turns over onto his stomach and slowly pulls the dildo out of his ass and says fuck me, dean, I need you
goneforeversorrybro:
imagine Castiel touching himself for the first time.
he’s no dummy. he’s watched humanity for millennia. he knows how human sexuality works
and it’s not like he hasn’t felt his dick twitch
or made himself a place on the observation deck of a few self-service sessions.
it’s not like he hasn’t pressed into the arm of a chair
ground against the edge of a bed
let the fabric of his newly-purchased jeans drag upward more slowly than is excusable.
but the thing is, he’s put masturbation - proper masturbation - off for a long awhile
denied that it was something he wanted, needed -
convinced on some level it was an act that he was somehow above
(which he finds laughable, really, considering the depth he’s dropped to)
something that could never live up to the hype.
but he finally caves
coating his hand with Jergens Original Scent
(of course Sam carries lotion in his duffle)
and pushing slowly into his loose fist
as his eyes flit closed and he lets out a soft breath
before quickly jerking his hand away, a bit appalled by sensory overload.
but
after just a few seconds, the need coursing down his length burrows itself roughly into the base of his cock, causing him to return his palm to the shaft with a slight sigh of resignation, furrowing his brows with new-found determination
and it’s like nothing he’s ever felt before.
now back it up
and imagine Dean watching.
