The Smell of Blood and Roses

doctorwho:

dwcompanion:

cuomover:

a car in the parking lot at my work

WHO ARE YOU
GET IN MY LIFE

Wait, Tumblr spawned a car?

Wait, Tumblr spawned a car?

(Source: catburgr)

(Source: letmartyhandlethis)

gabehorn:

gallifrey69:

Impala Love by ~quimvaa

They’ve got 10 minutes. Ten minutes until Rachel gets tired of Sam’s face and starts frantically searching for something more familiar and Dad-shaped. When she doesn’t find that, well, it’s T-minus two seconds to water works. Not even long enough to get the engine good and hot, but it’s worth it.

Dean can’t count the number of times they’ve been cockblocked by their own kid but it’s pretty steep. She’s the love of his life, the sunshine on his cloudy day, the girl who lights up his world, who’s also coddled and spoiled and he’s got himself to blame, he knows, but he’d be a pants-on-fire lying son of a bitch if he said he didn’t also love mouths and fingers and cock. Fucking, he misses fucking, and even more so he misses Castiel. Watching as the man curls himself around their sleeping daughter like a security blanket gives him a tidal wave of emotion and he wouldn’t have it any other way, but their nighttime bedtime used to be a lot more loud and vigorous. It’s a shame how long it’s been.

It’s why the second Sam is imprisoned in her tea party trap, Dean is tugging Cas by the wrist, out the back door and into the garage-to the only place she won’t look for them-without a second thought. He doesn’t bother with kissing or clothes, just throws open the back door of his beloved Impala, enjoys the view as Cas scrambles in and then joins him. Lord, he doesn’t even have time to worry about Castiel’s possible protests before Cas pounces, lips crashing into Dean’s hungry and urgent, hands moving quick and skilled.

The car’s already filled with huffing breaths, warm and wet on the faces of its impatient inhabitants, igniting vivid images of a time when the familiar backseat was the only privacy the two could have. Long gone are the days, yet they find themselves in the same comforting place. Dean wants to laugh, their full circle from a frustrated new couple in impossible circumstances to equally frustrated and boring parents, both grinding away in the confines of his baby with no time to spare, but it only comes out as a groan, Cas backing off and pulling him down so his back’s flat against the leather seat, bringing their bodies together with a knee strategically placed to part his legs.

There are hands in his hair, on his face; hands he’ll never get over. His own hands travel down the expanse of Cas’s button-down clad back, searching and aching to find skin underneath. They kiss again, slow this time, worried less about restraints and eventual discovery, a lavish meeting of lips and tongue. A tease, a taste. Dean nips at Castiel’s bottom lip before he can retreat, only to come back, instead capturing Dean’s own between his, bringing it into his mouth. He moans in a breath and Dean sighs, the warm skin of Castiel’s lower back, his perfect ass under finger tips of the hand shoved under jeans and briefs, finally gaining purchase, dousing scorching need only to find the water is gasoline.

This might take more than 10 minutes.

(Source: everythingwithaconservativetwist)