Top 5 Fan Fics (That I Personally Have Written)

Alright, fair’s fair. I started it so I guess I gotta. 

1. Some Things Last (E, Cas/Dean/Jimmy, 61,706 words) 
This is my absolute favorite thing I’ve ever written. It’s so close to my heart because it’s the first time I really allowed characters to make mistakes I’d usually punish them to hell and back for but instead I allowed them to be happy. It means a lot to me and I worked really hard on it. 
2. Forget-Me-Not (T, Cas/Meg, 3,966 words) 
This was because I wanted to write something that dealt with grief and I was still mad that Meg’s death hasn’t been acknowledged. Because I love Meg and I love Megstiel. It’s short but it’s one of my favorite fics. (AND I SWEAR this has a happy ending.) 
3. Four Can Play At That Game (E, Cas/Dean/Jimmy/Sam, 5,422 words) 
This is all @samanddeaninpanties fault because she sent me a gif and it got waaay out of hand. This was one fic I had a blast writing, though, and sometimes I even go back and read it because it amuses me so much. 
4. Angel Lust (E, Jimmy/Sam, 2,582 words) 
I would strongly suggest heeding the tags here. It’s… definitely not something I usually do. It’s a fic within my serial killer ‘verse, Peacemaker, and it’s an odd mix of dark comedy and twisted straight up murder. It was a lot of fun to write though, in an odd way. I really enjoy the ‘verse especially because our four mains are horrible, horrible people. (And the whole reason for it is a very subtle, mostly for myself, dig at certain very dumb arguments about shipping and necrophilia…) 
5. The First Loves of Dean Winchester (M, Dean/OMCs, Dean/OFCs, Dean/Robin, 1,866 words) 
I really liked this little fic thingy I wrote b/c I felt like writing it. There’s really no rhyme or reason to it, it’s just four vignettes about the first times Dean kisses and has sex with women and men. I was fun and a nice chance for me to just play around a bit. No pressure, but fun. 

@maliciouslycreative @samanddeaninpanties @mayalaen there I did the thing 😛 

A Little More than Super Friends

A little Halloween inspired fic for you all (shhhh, it’s Halloween until I say Halloween is over). 

Pairing: Dean/Cas/Jimmy
Warnings: Halloween Costumes, Halloween, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Jimmy Novak, Top Dean Winchester, Top Castiel, Blow Jobs, Crossdressing, Incest, Twincest, Sibling Incest, Castiel and Jimmy Novak Are Twins, Established Relationship, Alternate Universe – Human, Polyamory
Word Count: 4,877

Ao3 link 

Castiel was being punished. He must’ve done something in a past life because that was the only way he could justify the torment he was currently enduring. He must’ve been one of those dogs that peed on everything or a cat that ate the family parrot. Maybe he was a math teacher. Either way, it had to be something because there was no reason other than karmic retribution of his current suffering. His current suffering being his younger brother, Jimmy, dressed up like Wonder Woman, at least four beers and a few shots in his system, challenging everyone in the room to arm wrestle.

It’s not the embarrassment, not really. See, Castiel plays a good game. He knows that frustration, when channeled through eye rolls or put upon sighs, speaks more to an exasperated sibling than what it really is. He knows that if he acts like he’s unaffected or annoyed with Jimmy’s antics, especially in public, it won’t betray just how badly he wants to shove Jimmy into the nearest closet and ravish him. Because the thing is, Castiel isn’t the stoic, collected pain-in-the-ass so many people seem to think he is. He’s got a sense of humor, it’s just drier than the Sahara. He’s also got a sex drive and several kinks; he just keeps those close to the vest. The unfortunate thing is that as he and Jimmy have shared everything since before they were born, Jimmy knows these things, and he uses them to drive Castiel insane any chance he gets. Which is currently why Castiel wants to strangle him and also fuck his brains out.

He really should have let Jimmy pick the stupid ass s’more costume. When Charlie invited Dean, Jimmy, and himself to her Halloween party it had actually been her idea for them to show up in a couple costume. Apparently, she’d been trying to get everyone to do the same, and most of them had turned her down. Unfortunately for everyone, she called Dean so obviously they three of them were going to do it. The trip to the Halloween store was disappointing. Costumes designed for three adults were limited to gag costumes, like s’mores, value meals, and rock, paper, scissors. The s’more had been the least idiotic, but there was still no way Castiel was going to dress up like a graham cracker. That’s when Jimmy spotted the Batman costume and the Superman costume and then, of course, Wonder Woman. It was decided then and there that Dean would be Batman, Castiel would be Superman, and Jimmy, of course, would be Wonder Woman, tiara and all.

So this is where Castiel is now, watching Jimmy arm wrestle some guy in a cop costume. It’s not much of a match though, and Jimmy’s got him pinned within ten seconds. The idiot goes for another round and doesn’t even last eight.

The guy rolls his eyes and leaves, leaving Jimmy to slap his palms down on the card table. “Who’s next?” He asks, “who’s gonna give me a run for my money?”

“Oh, we’re puttin’ money on this now?” Benny asks. He’s dressed like a pirate. Andrea, who’s leaning on his arm, is dressed like a parrot.

“If you’re ready to lose it,” Jimmy fires back.

Benny smiles, rolling his eyes. “How much you got?”

“Deeeeean! How much money is in my wallet?” Jimmy hollers.

Dean, who’s been in conversation with Sam (Nightwing) and Eileen (Hawkeye) for the past half hour, sloshes his beer as he struggles to get up out of the butt groove on the couch.

“Fifteen bucks,” Dean says, fishing Jimmy’s wallet from his utility belt. “Why?”

“Fifteen bucks, Benny,” Jimmy says.

“Yeah, no dice,” Benny says.

“Come on! What about ten? Five?” Jimmy asks.

Benny shakes his head.

“What about a beer? Or a six pack? You beat me and I’ll buy you a six-pack of whatever you want. Or we could actually wrestle for it.”

“Dean,” Andrea says, “you need to come collect your boyfriend. He’s entirely too rambunctious.”

“Just be glad I didn’t buy the giant box of Jell-O mix and break out the kiddie pools,” Charlie says.

“You had the idea for Jell-O wrestling and you nixed it?” Jimmy gasps, “who are you and what have you done with Charlie?”

“I said no to Jell-O wrestling,” Gilda says, “I’m not cleaning that out of my carpet and neither are you.”

“Charlie,” Jimmy says in a stage whisper, “I think an alien has replaced your girlfriend.” He leans over the back of the chair, staring up at Charlie, leaning his head on Gilda’s hip.

Gilda rolls her eyes and shoves Jimmy away.

“Hey, there’s something I’ve always wondered,” Eileen pipes up, “who would win in a fight: Nightwing or Wonder Woman?”

Sam snorts. “You just want to see me arm wrestle Jimmy, don’t you?”

Eileen shrugs, a guilty little smile on her face. “Can’t blame me for trying, right?”

Sam laughs and kisses her on the forehead.

“Actually, that does bring up a better question. Who would win in a fight: Wonder Woman or Batman,” Gilda asks.

“Batman, obviously,” Dean says.

Castiel catches Jimmy’s eye and he’s smiling like the cat that got the cream. “You’d be sorely mistaken,” Jimmy says.

“Come on, Batman has a whole foot on Wonder Woman,” Dean says. “And he’s got all kinds of gadgets. No way she’d win.”

“Except Wonder Woman has been trained in every combat style ever. She’d kick his ass, dude,” Jimmy says.

“I think you should test that theory,” Castiel says.

Dean snorts and rolls his eyes. “We both know who’d win that one,” he says.

“Yup. Me,” Jimmy says, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers behind his head. He stretches his legs out so his feet rest on the seat of the chair across from him and Castiel legs a pleasant view of all the leg that isn’t covered by that tiny skirt. The asshole decided to wax for the costume, too, so they’re smooth and silky and Castiel wants them wrapped around his head.

“No way, dude. I wrestled in college. There’s no way you could beat me,” Dean says.

“Oh, college. That was, what? Five years ago? I’ll kick your ass old man,” Jimmy says.

“Dude! You’re older than me.”

“So? I’ll still beat you.”

Dean rose up off the couch. “Hold my beer,” he says, handing Castiel his drink. He walks over to the table, pushing Jimmy’s feet off the chair and sitting down. He squares up on the chair, putting his elbow on the table. “Alright, old man, let’s do this.”

Jimmy smirks and clasps his hand and it’s suddenly tense. Neither one of them is able to move the other more than a wobble and their muscles flex intermittently with effort. They are about as evenly matched as it comes. Castiel knows this. It really could be either of them who winds up winning, but it certainly doesn’t hurt to watch. Not at all.

Jimmy runs one of his feet up the inside of Dean’s leg and he falters for a moment, allowing Jimmy to pin his hand to the table.

“Hey! That’s cheating!” Dean says.

Jimmy shrugs. “It’s not cheating, it’s using your weaknesses to my advantage.”

“Which is cheating!”

“I never said you couldn’t try it either,” Jimmy says.

“Fine, I want a rematch then,” Dean says, squaring up again. He drops the smile in an instant, his eyes sharp and serious.

Jimmy smiles and throws him a wink before clasping their hands together. The instant he does, Dean surges across the table, cupping Jimmy’s face with his free hand and pressing their lips together. Jimmy’s eyes fly open and his arm wavers as Dean pushes it down. That doesn’t last more than half a second, though, as Jimmy is giving as good as he’s getting; his free hand pulling Dean closer by the scruff of his neck. Gilda snorts a laugh and Sam groans, throwing his head back on the couch. Neither of them is gaining much ground, and the ground they do gain is easily won back by the other, but they don’t seem too concerned about it. They chase each other with their lips, tongues visible every time they pull apart. Dean groans as Jimmy catches his bottom lip with his teeth. Jimmy shudders, and although it’s hard to see, Castiel’s pretty sure he’s running his nails across the sensitive flesh just below Jimmy’s ear.

“Does anybody have a squirt bottle?” Sam asks.

Castiel snorts. It’s a good thing he’s standing behind the couch because these stupid tights leave nothing to the imagination. It’s Jimmy’s fault, really. He’s the one who’s squirming in his seat and straining to keep his arm in the air. And then, Jimmy takes another cheap shot and pulls Dean’s hair. Dean gasps and throws his head back and Jimmy their hands down on the table.

“Ha! I win!” Jimmy jumps up, hands on his hips and smiling like the smug asshole he is.

“You cheated. Again,” Dean says.

“This time you started it,” Jimmy says, “but you’re welcome to try again.”

“No! No more redos!” Sam says. “I don’t want to see to guys dry hump next.”

“Can it, Dick,” Dean says.

Eileen laughed.

“Oh my god,” Sam groans, rubbing his temples, “this is what I get for picking the cool Robin isn’t it?”

“Jason Todd is the cool Robin, dude,” Dean says, “but yes, this what you get for picking Dick.”

“Hey now, careful what you say about picking dick, Dean. I seem to recall you not only picked it but you doubled down,” Jimmy says.

“Oh my god, please stop talking about your implied sex life. I don’t need to think about that ever,” Sam says.

“That’s your loss, Sam,” Jimmy says, adjusting his tiara.

“Dude! No. Keep in your skirt. There are ladies present,” Sam says.

“Like I would object,” Eileen mutters into her drink. Sam stares at her, mouth gaping like a landed fish. He signs something to her, too quick for Castiel to catch and she just laughs at him, signing something back.

“Alright, fine,” Dean says, standing up, “I lose. But I bet Superman would beat you.” There’s a mischievous little twinkle in his eye that never means anything good. Well, it means some good things, like blowjobs, but it also means things like lifetime bans from the zoo.

“Oh, would he now,” Jimmy asks, a single eyebrow raised.

Castiel rolls his eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“Ah, come on Cas, don’t be a wet blanket,” Charlie says, “arm wrestle your brother!”

“Unless you’re too chicken,” Gilda says, handing both Jimmy and Charlie another beer.

“Chicken? Since when did we go back to the fourth grade?” Castiel asks.

Jimmy clucks before taking a drink.

“He just doesn’t want the rest of us to know Jimmy’s actually better than him at something,” Charlie says.

Castiel rolls his eyes. He knows he’s not going to get out of it, not that he really even wants to. He just needs to will his boner away before he steps into the rest of the living room and embarrasses himself. “Jimmy’s abilities are not a mark against mine. He’s much better at math than I am. And he’s much more charismatic.”

“And I have more arm strength,” Jimmy says. That’s a lie and they both know it. Numerous wrestling matches over the years have borne that out. Castiel knows he could pin Jimmy to the ground and hold him down with one hand around his wrists easily. Jimmy and Dean do, too, but Jimmy is going to egg him on until he proves it. Dean has very fallen suspiciously silent, so he’s no help.

“If you insist,” Castiel says, “I don’t have to prove anything.” If Jimmy really wants this he’s going to have to work for it.

Jimmy narrows his eyes at Castiel. He knows that if they were home, or if it was just Sam, Eileen, and Charlie, he’d make some crack about offering sexual favors, but with all the strangers mingling in the house, he doesn’t dare risk it.

“Fine,” Jimmy says, “be that way. You’re never any fun anyway.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow. Jimmy should know by now that the “Castiel-is-a-boring-square” line doesn’t work.

“It’s just that, well, we haven’t wrestled since we were kids,” that’s bullshit, “and I’ve always wanted to be like my big brother. You always were to the more athletic of the two of us and I just wanted to prove to you – to myself – that I could finally hold my own after all those years of getting thrown on my ass.”

God, he’s so full of shit. Castiel suppresses a smile and rolls his eyes. He comes out from behind the couch and makes his way to the card table Jimmy’s sitting at. He’s got that shit-eating grin plastered all over his face, and Castiel wants nothing more than to wipe it off and replace it with an open mouth groan.

Castiel adjusts the cape so he’s not sitting on in and plants his feet on the ground, behind tucked behind the legs of the chair. He’ll get more leverage, and Jimmy can’t cheat by trying to play footsie.

Neither of them says anything. They don’t need to, really. The look in Jimmy’s eyes tells him everything he needs to know, and the look in his certainly put across everything he wants to say. They’re not telepathic, no matter what anyone insists, they just know how to read each other, and Castiel knows that little lip twitch Jimmy’s fighting means he hopes Castiel makes him pay for being a shit later. Castiel knows he will.

They clasp hands and they’re off. Jimmy’s strong, there’s no doubt about that, but he’s not trying to win here. He never is when it comes to Castiel. He puts up a decent show, though, and Castiel lets him, even letting him tip Castiel’s arm towards the table once. But then, of course, Jimmy lets his thumb tease small circles into Castiel’s wrist and it’s got to be over before either of them do something stupid. Castiel overpowers him, much to Gilda and Andrea’s displeasure.

Jimmy pouts. “Well you’re just not any fun are you, Cas?” He crosses his arms over his chest, flattening the material that bags there. He barely manages the frown, though his lips betray how much he wants to laugh.

“No, of course not,” Castiel says.

That does earn him a snort. “Fine,” Jimmy says, rising to his feet and flattening his skirt over his ass, “I, Princess Diana, yield my kingdom to you, oh Son of Krypton. You’re king of the mountain now,” he says.

Castiel shakes his head as he watches Jimmy saunter towards the couch, plopping down in Dean’s lap. Dean’s hand immediately goes to his thigh, his fingertips just brushing under the fabric of the skirt. This is going to be a long night.

—–

“You’re a son of a bitch, you know that,” Castiel says, slamming Jimmy to their bedroom wall. He attacks Jimmy’s neck before he can respond, licking long stripes from collarbone to jaw.

Jimmy’s fingers thread through his hair, his nails biting into the Castiel’s scalp. “Yeah, well,” he huffs, “what does that make you?” He drags one of his now bare feet up the back of Castiel’s leg.

“A horny son of a bitch,” Castiel mutters, slipping his hands up under Jimmy’s microskirt and kneading the skin under the silky panties Jimmy decided to wear. Because of course, he decided to wear panties.

Jimmy chuckles, hands running down Cas’s back in search of the zipper. “Such a naughty boy.” He kisses the side of Castiel’s face.

“Your fault,” Castiel mutters, yanking the panties down Jimmy’s tights. “You and your fucking skirt and your fucking attitude.”

“Love it when you get riled up,” Jimmy mutters into his neck, “love it when you swear.”

Castiel surges forward, catching Jimmy’s lips with his own. Jimmy groans against him, sliding his leg up higher until his knee sits awkwardly at Castiel’s lower back. He bends his own knees, grabbing Jimmy by his soft thighs and hauling him up. Jimmy wraps his legs around him and squeezes, briefly erasing all thought from Castiel’s mind. He teases the seam of Jimmy’s lip with his tongue, and Jimmy responses with teeth.

Jimmy’s dick is him from underneath the skirt, and they’re probably going to ruin his costume, but Castiel can’t be fucked to care. He couldn’t give a rats ass what happened to his own ich tights. At least Jimmy’s costume is mostly vinyl.  He would be sad if this was the last time they got to play around with it.

“You know,” Dean’s voice calls out from behind them. Castiel turns to look. “I always knew Superman and Wonder Woman were fucking,” Dean says.

Jimmy snorts, “You jealous, Bats?”

Dean smiles, flipping his mask off and flinging it across the room. He sidles up behind Castiel, his hands drifting up his sides and over Jimmy’s legs. “Maybe a little.” Dean kisses at Castiel’s neck, hands trailing up his chest and to the fasteners that keep the cape in place. A few snaps and it falls to the floor.

“You don’t need to be,” Castiel says, letting his head fall back to Dean’s shoulders.

Dean hums, trailing his lips down the column of Castiel’s throat. Jimmy leans forward, too, his fingers rubbing circles over Castiel’s nipples through the fabric. Castiel shudders, leaning back into Dean to support both of them.

Dean huffs and stumbles backward. “I can’t support both of you, you know,” he says.

Castiel grunts and steps forward while Dean steps back. Jimmy climbs off him and shimmies out of his panties and top half of his costume. He’s limber enough that he doesn’t need to use the zipper and just flings the whole thing off and into the corner. He leaves the skirt, though, sitting back on the bed with his legs spread.

“Fuck,” Castiel and Dean mutter in unison. Apparently, he’d decided to wax everywhere, which was definitely a pleasant surprise.

Dean unzips the top of Castiel’s costume, but he’s on the way Jimmy’s dick props the material up to an obscene tent to thank him. He drops to his knees and crawls forward, burying his face in Jimmy’s thighs. Castiel kisses and sucks the tender flesh inside Jimmy’s thighs. He tastes like sweat and musk and the plastic that’s been sticking to his skin. Jimmy groans, spreading his legs wider to give Castiel more room to work. He lets his hands skim up Jimmy’s calves, rating his nails back down at odd intervals as he mouths his way to Jimmy’s cock.

“Jesus,” Jimmy hisses. The bed dips next to Castiel and he’s pretty sure that’s Dean getting on positioning himself wherever he wants to be. Castiel’s too concerned with getting his lips around his brother cock to care though. He licks the tip of Jimmy’s dick, which earns him a shaky exhale as Jimmy pulls his skirt out of the way.

Castiel is a bit of a tease in bed. Anyone who knows them might suspect Jimmy would be the more likely culprit, and he certainly can be, but he’s much needier than Castiel is. Castiel likes to take his sweet time. He likes to learn the bodies of his lovers, to find all the spots that make them whimper and beg for mercy. He likes to build anticipation. And one of his favorite ways to build anticipation in Jimmy is to drag his tongue up the vein in Jimmy’s cock, pulling back just before he reaches the sensitive spot just below the head. It drives Jimmy nuts, and Castiel loves it.

Jimmy sinks lower on the bed as Castiel trails down to his balls, sucking each into his mouth while running his nails up and down Jimmy’s thighs. He quivers, his legs wrapping around Castiel’s head. Above him, Castiel can hear the wet smacking of Dean and Jimmy kissing and the soft whimpers he knows he’s the source of.

Castiel teases the head of Jimmy’s cock a few more times, groaning when he can taste the salty tang of precome on his tongue. When he finally seals his lips over Jimmy’s cock, Jimmy shivers beneath him, his toes curling against Castiel’s back. His fingers stay knotted in the hair on the back of his head, tugging and releasing whenever Castiel sucks at the head.

“Fuck, baby,” Jimmy groans.

“You want that,” Dean’s soft voice picks up, “you want Cas to fuck you?”

Castiel shudders, letting his hand skim down Jimmy’s thigh and trail backward towards his pucker. Castiel rubs his finger over the ring of muscle and Jimmy moans.

“Uh-huh,” Jimmy whines.

“Yeah?” Dean asks. He does something Castiel can’t see that makes Jimmy let loose a wailing moan.

“Fuck, Cas,” Jimmy pants, “stop. You gotta stop.”

Castiel presses his luck, pulling off Jimmy’s cock after another vigorous suck. He pokes up from underneath Jimmy’s skirt. “Yes?”

Jimmy sighs, his head pillowed on one of Dean’s naked thighs. “Gimme a minute,” he says. Castiel smirks and takes that was his opportunity to strip and join Dean and Jimmy on the bed. Dean’s already naked, a pleasant flush coloring his chest and neck.

Castiel settles next to Dean, drawing him close with fingers on his chin. Dean pulls him close with an arm around his shoulders, leading their kiss with much slower intent. While Castiel prides himself on being a tease, Dean tends to take it slow for a different reason entirely. He enjoys filling the moment with as much tenderness as he can muster, which certainly is helpful for bringing down the pace while keeping the mood intact. Castiel and Jimmy on their own fuck like animals, pushing each other into a sweaty fever pitch that’s over in what should be an embarrassingly short amount of time. (Because as much as Castiel loves to tease, being teased himself usually only amounts to growling and fighting until he’s in control again and then they’re both too wound up to stop.) Dean though tends to bring them both back into the moment instead of rocketing towards orgasm.

Castiel sighs when Dean tugs at Castiel’s cock, slow and purposeful. “Jimmy wants you to fuck him,” Dean says against Castiel’s lips, “you wanna do that?”

Castiel sighs. “God, yes.”

“He really wound you up tonight, didn’t he?” Dean asks.

Castiel groans in response, chasing Dean’s tongue as slides across his lips.

“You both wound me up,” Dean says, jerking Castiel’s head back by his hair. He kisses down Castiel’s throat, nipping at his collarbones before biting down hard enough to leave a bruise. Castiel cries out and clutches Dean’s arms. “I wanna fuck you so bad,” Dean says.

Castiel swallows. His thighs tingle pleasantly with excitement. “Yes,” he says, “yeah, do that.”

Dean smirks against his skin rubbing his stubble over Castiel’s chest, like a cat. “You first,” he says, pulling away from Castiel.

It takes Castiel a moment to get his bearings and crawl back over to Jimmy, who’s licking his lips and watching Castiel with unfiltered want in his eyes. He’s also got two fingers in his ass, and is completely naked, though Castiel wishes he kept the skirt on.

Castiel pulls Jimmy’s hand from between his legs, leaning down to kiss him once more. He pulls back swiping the lube from where Jimmy left it on the pillow and slicks his cock while Dean settles in behind Jimmy, propping him up half in his lap.

Castiel slips two fingers inside Jimmy’s body, testing the stretch. Jimmy lets out an annoyed huff and rolls his eyes. Castiel could drag it out a bit and finger Jimmy a little more but he’s anxious to get on with it, so he pulls his fingers out and takes himself in hand. He pushes in with a slow thrust, and Jimmy hisses, clutching Castiel’s thighs.

“Okay?” Castiel asks.

Jimmy nods, eyes shut tight. Castiel continues to push forward until he’s as far as he can get, surrounded by Jimmy’s warmth. Castiel groans, bracing himself with his hands on either side of Jimmy’s waist and pulls out.

Jimmy sings underneath him. Every time Castiel pulls out he gasps, high and breathy like he’s surprised by it. Every time Castiel thrusts in he moans, soft and low, his eyelids fluttering. Castiel keeps his pace slow, his movements more of a roll and a grind than real thrusts, the way he knows Jimmy likes it. He’s loud, like he always is, letting loose noises that almost sound pitiful. Castiel chuckles and leans down to kiss him, changing the angle of his hips. Jimmy cries out, loud and almost mournful, like a wounded animal.

“Fuck!” He whines, “Cas, god, do that again.”

Cas smirks, grinding into Jimmy slow and dirty. Jimmy’s hands scramble to connect with Castiel’s body, nails digging in wherever Jimmy happens to let them fall.

“You like that, Jimmy?” Dean asks. He’s half petting, half pulling Jimmy’s hair.

Jimmy gulps, nodding adamantly.

“You should hear the sounds you make,” Dean says, “fucking beautiful. Isn’t that right, Cas?”

“God, yes,” Castiel grunts on a particularly hard roll.

Jimmy’s eyes are shut now and he’s groaning non-stop, hands clumsily slipping through the sweat on Castiel’s back. He gasps, arching up into Castiel’s thrusts as Dean snakes a hand between them and starts to stroke Jimmy’s cock.

Jimmy’s beyond words at this point, and anything more than garbled swears is too much to ask. He’s rocking his hips to meet Castiel’s and while Castiel would love to hurry this along, he’s pretty sure he’s not too far from the edge himself.

Dean slips his other hand between them, pinching Jimmy’s nipple and Jimmy comes. Castiel groans, holding still for fear that he’ll come too from nearly anything else. He pulls out, limbs shaking, and collapses next to Jimmy. Thank god Dean’s more concerned about kissing Jimmy through his high and not immediately attacking Castiel, because he would really like to have his orgasm with Dean’s dick in his ass. Jimmy’s still breathing hard when Dean pulls away and settles himself between Castiel’s legs. It takes a moment to find the lube, wherever the hell it went, and Dean is teasing Castiel’s hole with two slick fingers.

Castiel squirms, fisting his hand in the bed sheets. He’s not close enough to the edge that anything will set him off, but he’s close enough that it feels really fucking good. Dean bends down, nipping at Castiel’s earlobe and breathing hot against his skin as he slips one finger inside. It’s good, but it’s not nearly enough, and despite Castiel’s better instincts he demands another.

It doesn’t take Dean long to get three fingers inside Castiel. He’s not used to the stretch of his muscles, but it’s not completely unfamiliar. It does help somewhat to take the edge off, though.

“Please, Dean,” Castiel groans, “fuck me.”

Dean shuts his eyes and lets out a soft breath, nodding. He pulls back and slicks his cock.

Castiel glances to his left. Jimmy’s laying on the bed, propped up on his elbow, smiling a sleepy little smile. There’s a bruise on his chest shaped like Castiel’s mouth. He reaches over and slips his fingers through Castiel’s hair, guiding him close and kissing him. Castiel gasps when Dean starts to push his cock inside, but Jimmy holds him firm and keeps kissing his lips, his face, his neck, and let’s Castiel breath him in while he adjusts to Dean’s girth.

Dean’s thrusts are just as measured as his kisses, but that doesn’t mean he’s not trying to make sure Castiel feels it for days. He hauls Castiel’s leg up, resting his ankle on his shoulder and drives in hard.

“Dean! Fuck!” Castiel hits the bed with a fist, itching to shift his hips enough to take Dean even deeper, but the angle doesn’t allow it. Dean just laughs and keeps up his pace. His stomach rolls with every thrust, and it’s damn near hypnotic to watch.

Jimmy’s at his neck now, licking and nibbling at his shoulder, skimming a hand down his chest and stomach and fondling his balls when he gets low enough. Castiel forces himself to sink into the mattress, to let some of the tension go and just feel it. Fuck, it’s incredible.

“You’re incredible,” Jimmy purrs into his ear. Castiel isn’t sure if he said anything out loud, or if Jimmy just knows him well enough to pick up on the sentiment.

Castiel just gulps and shakes his head. He’s close. He can tell it pulling in his gut and in his thighs. He can’t help but tense. Dean bends down to kiss him, dropping Castiel’s leg in the process and that’s it. He moans, deep and guttural, coming all over his own stomach. Dean fucks him through it, groaning as his eyes flutter shut and he too, comes.

Dean settles down on the other side of Castiel, his arm slung across Castiel’s chest, fingers tangled with Jimmy’s. They’re going to be gross in the morning, but Castiel doesn’t really give a shit.

Trigger Happy

Kinktober Day 10: Gunplay
Ship: Sam/Jimmy
Rating: Explicit
Tags/Warnings: Gunplay, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Face-Fucking, Pistol-Whipping, Under-negotiated Kink, Dubious Consent, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Choking, Asphyxiation, Fear Play, Impact Play, Facials, Dom Sam, Sub Jimmy Novak, Dom/sub, Bad gun safety, Implied Winjimstiel, Implied/Referenced Incest, Castiel/Jimmy mentioned, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat
Part of the Peacemaker Winjimstiel Serial Killer ‘Verse
AO3 Link

Sam’s fingers tightened around Jimmy’s neck as he gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing against Sam’s palm.

“You’re going to do exactly what I tell you, do you understand?” Sam asked.

Jimmy nodded, biting his lip. He tried not to let his eyes trail down to the gun in Sam’s left hand, but they did anyway.

“If you’re a good boy I won’t have to use it,” Sam said, “is that clear?”

Jimmy nodded again, though this time the butt of the gun collided with his cheek. “Fuck,” he groaned.

“I said,” Sam tightened his hand around Jimmy’s throat, shoving him more firmly against the wall, “is that clear?”

“Yes,” Jimmy gasped, “yes, sir.” His lungs were already burning and the tears in his eyes were making everything blur together in a watery mess.

Sam let go of his throat and Jimmy gasped, pulling in harsh gulps of air. His heart was racing and the room around him was starting to spin. He stumbled a bit as Sam stepped back and shoved him to his knees. Jimmy caught himself with his hands as Sam hovered above him.

Sam undid his belt and pants before grabbing Jimmy by the scruff of the neck and shoving Jimmy’s face into his crotch. Jimmy groaned, breathing in Sam’s musky scent. He took to nuzzling his nose against the outline of Sam’s hardening cock, breathing hot against it as he went. Jimmy mouthed at Sam’s swelling cock, leaving wet marks against the fabric. He sucked at the head once he reached it, pulling it into his mouth, cotton and all. He took at much as he could into his mouth, but the elastic made it difficult and he had to back off after an inch or so. Still, he continued to suck and drool on Sam’s cock.

Sam held him down by the scruff of his neck, the head of his dick all Jimmy could get past his lips. Jimmy teased at what he could guess was the slit through the wet underwear. Sam thrust his hips, knocking Jimmy off balance and gagging him. Sam chuckled.

“You’d think you never had a dick in your mouth with the way you act,” Sam said.

“Well, it’s a little hard with the – “

Sam jerked Jimmy’s head backward, making him hiss. “Did I tell you you could speak?” Sam asked.

“No.”

“No what?”

“No, sir,” Jimmy hissed through his teeth.

Sam released his head, stepping back, then frowning. “How Cas was ever able to train you, I’ll never understand.” He clucked his tongue raising the gun. “It’s a damn shame, really.” He pulled back the hammer.

“Sam, what are you doing?” Jimmy asked, scrambling backward on the threadbare carpet.

“Didn’t I tell you not to say anything?” Sam asked. His voice was even as he stalked forward with his gun in Jimmy’s face.

“Seriously, Sam, what are you doing?” Jimmy’s voice squeaked as his feet hit the wall behind him.

Sam pressed the barrel of the gun to Jimmy’s forehead. Jimmy gulped. “Is it loaded?” Jimmy whispered. The cold metal left his skin, and for a moment Jimmy sighed in relief. Then the butt of the gun collided with his other cheek. He cried out, covering his face with his hand. God, that was a good hit. Probably split his cheek open. Sure enough, when he pulled his hand away there was blood on his fingers.

“Don’t say another word. Are we clear?” Sam asked. He stood up straight, all six foot something of intimidating asshole looming over him with a sick little smile on his lips. He really was terrifying when he got in one of his moods. He could be a nice guy, or as nice as anyone who murdered people for a living could be, but every once in a while Jimmy was reminded of just how cold he could be. Apparently, Sam looming over him with a gun and a smile was one of those times.

Jimmy nodded. He kept his hands on his knees to keep them from shaking.

Sam brought the gun back, pressing the barrel to Jimmy’s lips. “Open,” he said. Jimmy did.  

He nearly pulled away when it slid against his tongue, but kept still. His mouth watered against the awful tang of metal but he kept his eyes on Sam. He was still smiling that slick smile Jimmy had never had the misfortune of having directed at him. He’d seen it enough, though. It was that wicked look Sam got when their targets started begging. If there had been any question as to whether or not Sam got off on the power of having someone else’s life in his hands, there wasn’t now. Jimmy barely resisted the shudder that tingled down his spine and settled in his crotch. In spite of all else, his dick was interested.

“Now,” Sam said, “be a good boy and suck.”

Jimmy closed his lips around the barrel, sucking on it as Sam slid it further in until his lips touched the trigger guard and the sight was brushing the back of his throat.

“That’s it,” Sam said, “like you’re sucking a cock.” Jimmy slid off the gun at the same time Sam pulled it back, building a slow rhythm as Jimmy got used to the feeling against his tongue. He was drooling a little too much, but he didn’t dare move his hand to try and wipe the spit from his chin. He just kept his eyes locked on Sam and kept his movements even.

Above him, Sam’s smile faltered as he licked his lips. His breath came out a little more ragged, and his eyes seemed unfocused in that way that could only mean arousal. He was also palming his cock, which was still trapped behind his underwear.

Sam pulled the gun away one final time and stopped Jimmy from following with a hand on his arm. Jimmy bit his lip and waited as Sam dropped his pants and underwear, pulling his cock out and stroking. He brushed the tip of his cock against Jimmy’s lips and chin, smearing pre-come as he went.

“Open,” Sam said, slipping his dick past Jimmy’s lips. He ran his hand through Jimmy’s hair, jerking his head upwards so he couldn’t look anywhere but the ceiling. Sam thrust his hips, his dick sliding across Jimmy’s tongue and nudging at the back of his throat. Jimmy gagged.

Sam pulled his hard harder, making him groan. “Just relax,” Sam said, “just sit there and take it. Good boys don’t react.” There was laughter in his voice and Jimmy barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Leave it to Sam to turn his own words against him.

Sam’s next slide was more forceful, and Jimmy sputtered around his cock. He breathed in through his nose as Sam gave a few more shallow thrusts, willing himself to relax his throat enough to let Sam slide down. It wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. He was still very much away for the gun Sam had in his other hand. Or, he assumed Sam was still holding it. He hadn’t heard it drop and he couldn’t see it.

Jimmy concentrated on his breathing, pulling air in through his nose slow and deep in the moments that Sam’s cock wasn’t down his throat. The musky taste of pre-come slid across his tongue and Jimmy longed to swallow. As it was he was drooling all over himself. Jimmy rolled his eyes. That must be an attractive sight.

Sam grunted above him, his fists gripping tighter in Jimmy’s hair and sending pinpricks of pain and pleasure through his skull and down his spine. Jimmy wanted to hiss, but he couldn’t do more than sputter. He could slide his hands up Sam’s legs, resting one on his thigh while the other edged towards his balls. He cupped them in his palm, rolling the smooth sack in his hand, letting his long fingers slide back to the soft flesh between Sam’s legs.

“Fuck,” Sam groaned, rocking forward harder. Jimmy redoubled his efforts, pressing the tips of his fingers hard to where he thought Sam’s prostate was while rolling Sam’s balls in his palm.

“Shit,” Sam laughed. He moaned louder, his thighs started to quiver under Jimmy’s hand. His breath was more grunt and groan than anything else before he thrust in one more time, holding Jimmy tight as he buried himself down his throat. Jimmy held his breath waiting for Sam’s release. He wasn’t coming. Jimmy swallowed on reflex, but all Sam did was moan.

He couldn’t breathe, not with Sam down his throat, and he couldn’t help the fact that he panicked. He pushed at Sam’s thighs, trying to pull himself off Sam’s cock, but Sam kept him steady. Sam didn’t let go until Jimmy’s lungs were screaming for air.

Jimmy sputtered, gasping and spitting when Sam finally let go and pulled out. “You – fucking – jackass,” Jimmy huffed, hands on his thighs as he caught his breath, “warn me next time!”

Sam pulled Jimmy up by his chin and held him there. “Nah. I liked it when you panic,” he said.

“You’re one sick fucker.”

“Takes one to know one.” Sam let go of Jimmy and began stroking his own cock. “Stay right there,” Sam said. He was still holding the goddamn gun, but it was at least pointed at the floor. Sam threw his head back, biting his lips. He was close. Jimmy shut his eyes.

The second Sam came he let out a deep groan, and Jimmy braced himself for the splash of warm come across his cheek. He flinched a little when it hit his face, but for the most part, he stayed still. He opened his eyes, catching come on his cheekbone out of the corner of his eye. Sam had moved from directly in front of him to the corner of one of the motel beds, laying half on his back with his feet still on the floor. His softening cock was still out for everyone to see. Jimmy snorted.

“Your face okay?” Sam asked, lolling his head to the side.

Jimmy flexed his jaw, rubbing at the warmth of a blossoming bruise on his one clean cheek. “Fuck. You got me good.”

Sam huffed a laugh. “You don’t listen.”

“Oh fuck you, Sam.” Jimmy rolled his eyes, picking up a spare shirt from the floor and wiping his cheek. It was probably Dean’s but oh well, that’s what he gets for leaving his shit on the floor.

“You already did. Hence what just happened,” Sam said, waiving between the two of them with the gun.

Jimmy rolled his eyes. Well, Sam did say get him back. He really should have asked for clarification. “And could you put that goddamn thing down please?”

Sam rolled his eyes and set the gun on the bed. Jimmy sighed, pulling himself up on his feet. His knees popped. Great. He was gonna be sore for a while. “By the way,” Jimmy said, making his way to the bathroom. He needed a hot shower to relax his muscles and take care of his fear boner, “that thing wasn’t loaded, was it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Off the Highway

Kinktober Day 8: Frottage, Lingerie, Asphyxiation
Ship: Dean/Sam
Rating: Explicit
Tags/Warnings: Frottage, Blood, Blood Kink, Panty Kink, Dean in Panties, Incest, Sibling Incest, Murder, Asphyxiation, Breathplay, Alternate Universe – Serial Killers, Under-negotiated Kink, Pre-Winjimstiel
Part of the Peacemaker Winjimstiel Serial Killer ‘Verse
AO3 Link

Dean’s tearing down the back roads of the Oklahoma panhandle, music blaring and whooping at the top of his lungs.

“Never gets old, does it, Sammy?”

Sam chuckles. He’s holding an old pair of underwear turned shop rag against his face. Their last mark didn’t want to go down without a fight, and he managed to get a decent slice into Sam’s cheek before Dean got a cord around his neck. If the asshole would’ve been up and over by about an inch Sam probably would’ve lost an eye. He is going to wind up with a nasty scar though.

“Jesus,” Dean breathes. The car flies up over a bump in the road and they sail through the air for a good three feet before coming back down with a thud. “Sorry sweetheart,” Dean says.

“You talkin’ to me or the car?” Sam teases.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Don’t be jealous. She’s my lady but you’re still my favorite.”

“Hey, there’s a rest stop in 10,” Sam says, gesturing to the side of the road.

This is how they wind up most nights after a job. Occasionally, they’ll make it to another town and book a room before the sun comes up but most of the time that just isn’t the case. They’ll pull off to a rest-stop, crack open a beer, take a whore’s bath in the tiny bathroom sinks and fall asleep in the car. Dean is always up before the sun and then they’re on to the next one. When they were little their father used to say they were like avenging angels. He’d say they were around to smite the wicked and be gone before the rest of the world was awake enough to know what happened. “Like thieves in the night,” their dad would say.

Dean pulls off into the rest stop and shuts off the car. It’s a quiet little nothing pit stop in the middle of nowhere, just the two of them, a couple of picnic benches, and a unisex bathroom hut under a tree. Dean hits the overhead light, sighing as he listens to the engine tick as it cools. Sam pulls the rag away from his face. He looks more flushed than usual in the yellow light, but that could have something to do with the fact that his face is covered in drying blood. And all at once Dean’s struck with the sick realization in the pit of his guts that they’d had a close call. Sam’s okay, but he could’ve lost an eye and god forbid if that bastard would’ve had a gun on him.

“What?” Sam asks, frowning.

Dean doesn’t say anything, he just launches across the seat and kisses him. Sam doesn’t respond at first, but when he does he’s demanding, wrapping his hand around the back of Dean’s neck and pulling him in for hungry kisses. It turns into a frenzy quickly, with Sam slipping his tongue into Dean’s mouth, Dean tangling his fingers in Sam’s hair, nails scraping across exposed flesh and teeth biting into lips.

Sam guides Dean down onto his back, rising up on his knees. He smacks his head on the roof of the car and swears. Dean chuckles, and Sam bites him in response. Sam reaches back and undoes the lock on the door, kicking it open with his foot. He rearranges them so his feet are on the ground outside, but he’s pressed to Dean’s body at every other point of contact.

The adrenaline still rushing through his veins makes Dean sloppy, the fear makes him desperate. Dean can taste Sam’s blood as he kisses up and down Sam’s face. He wants to taste Sam’s blood and sweat and come. He wants to wrap himself around him and stay that way. Sam’s hands are trembling but his lips are sure, stealing the breath from Dean’s lungs at every chance he gets. He undoes Dean’s pants as Dean squeezes his ass.

“Really, Dean?” Sam says, pulling back.

“What?” Dean asks, lifting himself up on his elbows, “What’d I do?”

Sam reaches down and snaps the waistband of Dean’s pink silky panties.

“Hey!” Dean flinches when the elastic hits his skin.

“Panties? Really?”

Dean shrugs. “They make me feel sexy.”

“On a case?”

“And?”

Sam shakes his head, pressing the heel of his palm into Dean’s erection. “What if we got arrested? You wanna go to jail in these pretty panties?” Sam asks.

Dean groans, rolling his head back against the leather seats. “It’d give the cops something to jerk off to.”

“What if we died?”

“Sam, don’t. Don’t talk about that.”

“No, Dean,” Sam strokes his hand up and down Dean’s cock. The silk slides against the warmth of his cock in a maddening way. “What if we died? You wanna go to the morgue in silky women’s underwear?”

Dean shudders. “They better bury me in ‘em then.”

Sam snorts, sliding Dean’s panties down and under his balls. They’re a little tight, and the elastic cuts into his skin and Dean wants to adjust and pull away, but Sam undoes his jeans and pulls his own cock out. Sam leans over him, one hand braced on the back of the bench seat, one had next to Dean’s head. Their dicks line up next to each other and then Sam starts thrusting.

Dean moans, drifting his hand up Sam’s arm and clutching Sam’s shoulder. It’s all Dean can do to hold on. Sam’s got the advantage of the angle, and forceful, hungry thrust leaves Dean reeling. Sam’s jeans scrape against Dean’s thighs and the friction of their cocks against each other is a little rough but he doesn’t care. The pressure is too good. The sweat and pre-come isn’t great lube, but it’s thrilling in its own way. That’s his brother’s pre-come dribbling on his stomach, mixing with his own sticking to his skin. That’s his sweat Sam’s cock is sliding through.

Dean moans, digging his nails into the three layers covering Sam’s back. If they were naked, he’d dig them into the skin – he’d draw blood and mark Sam so everyone who saw would know Sam was taken, so they’d know Sam was his.

Sam’s grunting now, huffing when he exhales. He’s close. They both are. It doesn’t take a lot after a case, not really. Sam wants to take, to strip Dean bear from the inside out and make him scream. Dean’s more than willing to give him that, and more.

Sam shifts his angle, lifting his hips up and driving forward quicker.

“Sam, fuck, do that again!” Dean whines. He’s making high pitched little whimpers every time the heads of their cocks nudge against each other.

Then Sam does something that Dean doesn’t expect. He takes the hand that’s been lying next to Dean’s head and sets it down on Dean’s throat. He squeezes once, and Dean gasps and shudders.

“Fuck.” Dean’s going to burst at any second. He’s ready to burst, but he just can’t get there yet. He’s in that wonderful period right before orgasm, that cliff’s edge where he could hang forever in pure bliss.

Sam presses down against Dean’s neck again, his thumb digging into that divot in the skin between his collar bones. Dean gasps, but he can’t get any air. His body starts to buzz and everything is ramped up to eleven. His body twitches, trying to fight even though he knows he doesn’t want to. He digs in harder to Sam’s shoulders, pulling the fabric taut against his back. Sam smirks down at him and just as Dean’s vision starts to blur, Sam lets him go.

Dean pulls in a wheezing breath and comes hard. He’s moaning as soon as he’s able, his whole body bucking upwards into Sam’s. Sam doesn’t stop, not until he comes too, spilling over Dean’s still twitching cock.

They lay together for a while, just catching their breath. Sam’s heavy and the position they’re in is not comfortable but Dean doesn’t’ really care.

Angel Lust

Kinktober Day 8: Roleplay
Ship: Sam/Jimmy
Rating: Explicit
Tags/Warnings: Dark Comedy, Necrophilia, Corpse Desecration, Implied Incest, Sexual Roleplay, Top!Jimmy, Bottom!Sam, Anal Sex, Murder, No Actual Corpse Fucking, Implied Winjimstiel, Canon-Typical Violence
Part of the Peacemaker Winjimstiel Serial Killer ‘Verse
AO3 Link 

“Well, Jimmy here’s your chance. Take your pick!” Dean says, elbowing Jimmy in the ribs. In front of them, three bodies are laid out, blood still trickling in languid streaks onto the wood floor.

“You can fuck off,” Jimmy says, shrugging him off.

“I’m just sayin’, you got two guys and a lady to pick from. Or hell, don’t pick. Take ‘em all for a spin,” Dean says.

Jimmy rolls his eyes. At his feet are the bodies of the Richardsons: Amelia, Don, and her father. Don had been a cop. One of those, shoot first, ask later kind of guys, too. He’d wound up killing at least one guy who’d been holding a spoon, not a knife like he’d claimed in his police report. The video was clear enough, but apparently, that wasn’t enough for a grand jury. He wasn’t going to be making that “mistake” again, though. His wife was pretty, though. Shame she pulled a gun.

“Kiss my ass,” Jimmy says wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Why is Dean kissing your ass?” Sam asks. He walks in from the kitchen where he and Cas had been retracing their steps. It wasn’t perfect, but they wanted to make sure there wouldn’t be any blood trails. When they hit the state line they’ll ditch their shoes and whatever else needed to be left behind, but for now, they’ll just have to make sure nothing noticeable was left.

“He’s being an ass again,” Jimmy says.

“I’m just being helpful,” Dean says.

Sam snorts. “When are you ever being helpful?”

“Hey, he wants to fuck a corpse, there’s three of ‘em right here,” Dena says.

Jimmy slaps his hand to his forehead.

“Oh,” Sam says, raising an eyebrow, “you want us to leave you alone for -” Sam glances at Jimmy’s crotch, then the bodies laid out on the floor, “twenty minutes?”

“Oh my god, fuck you,” Jimmy groans. He’s already sporting a semi, as was usual after these things. It didn’t use to happen when he and Cas used to run their funeral home, at least not as much, but it seemed like he couldn’t even see a corpse without popping a boner these days. He blames the adrenaline.

“I still don’t see what the problem is,” Dean says, “we lay down a tarp, you go to town, it’ll be fine when we burn ‘em. You wanna do it just do it.”

“There are lines you shouldn’t cross, Dean,” Jimmy says.

“We kill people.”

“Sexual lines!”

“You fuck your brother. I fuck my brother. We fuck each other’s brothers, sometimes at the same time! Whatever lines you’re drawing are bullshit, dude.”

Jimmy groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to fuck a corpse,” he says.

“No, you just get a boner from touching ‘em,” Dean scoffs.

“It’s a tactile thing!” Jimmy barks. They’ve had this argument half a dozen times before. Either Dean or Sam will get it in their heads to fuck with him, and then Jimmy gets pissy. Cas finds it amusing, but Jimmy doesn’t. It’s one thing to enjoy the feel and look of death but it’s another to actually stick his dick in a corpse. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, exactly, just that – well, it’s complicated. He’s not sure if he wants to go that far with it. Plus the danger of getting caught goes up if he were to – well, get fluids all over the place.

“Hey, man,” Sam says, “I get it. Well, no, I don’t. At all.”

Jimmy laughs in spite of himself. “Thanks.”

“You know,” Cas says, from the kitchen doorway. He’s leaning against the frame, wiping his hands on a bloodied rag. “We have some time. You don’t have to fuck one if you want but you could pretend.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy snorts, “with who, huh? You won’t let me, Dean over here wants me to just do it and Sam -”

“Sam’s game,” Sam says.

“Sam’s game. Wait, you what?”

“I’ll play with you,” Sam says, “on one condition.”

“Okay, what’s that?” Jimmy asks.

“You owe me.”

“Owe you what?”

Sam shrugs. “Dunno yet. We’ll figure it out when we get to it. But we got all night so if you wanna try it out, we can do it however you want.”

It was true. The Richardson’s home is in the middle of nowhere on the outskirts of a tiny Texas town. Don had worked with the sheriff’s office and Amelia had been a veterinarian. They could stay all night if they really wanted to.

Jimmy shakes his head, laughing in spite of himself. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t think about it. Fuck, he’d tried to get Cas on board for years but Cas wasn’t going to let anyone tell him what to do during sex, much less just lay there and let Jimmy take whatever he wanted. “Fuck, okay, I guess we’ll do it them.”

Dean snorts, shaking his head while catching eyes with Cas. They’re both wearing a wicked little smile that Jimmy should probably be more worried about, but he’s a little too stuck on the idea of fucking Sam to care.

“Lemme go get something from the car and take a shower. You wait in the master bedroom,” Sam says.

“M-master bedroom?”

“Yeah. Easier to strip the sheets than it is to set the couch on fire, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess.”

“Good, now get your butt in there,” Sam says.  He’s out the front door before Jimmy can say much else. To be frank, he’s a little dazed. It’s a good dazed, though.

Jimmy turns to leave but Dean stops him with a hand on his arm. “Hold up a sec,” Dean says. Jimmy stills, and Dean looks back down at the bodies, swiping his thumb at the corner of his mouth. “You wanna take one of these with you?” Dean asks. Cas snorts a laugh behind him. Fuck them. Fuck them both.

“The man,” Jimmy says.

“Wait, really?” Dean asks. He at least seems a little stunned. Cas, however, is crossing his arms over his chest like he’s challenging Jimmy to really do it. Knowing Cas, he probably is.

“Yes,” Jimmy says, “the younger one.”

“Well okay then,” Dean says. He grabs Don’s feet and Jimmy moves to catch his shoulders. Together they carry him into the bedroom.

The set the stiff down on the one side of the bed, and Jimmy settles right down next to it. Dean opens his mouth to say something – probably another smart ass comment – but Cas calls him back into the living room. He’s thankful for that. He’ll be less flustered when the time comes to actually get down to it with Sam if Dean doesn’t push his buttons anymore.

The shower’s running in the master bathroom and Jimmy can just it out through the walls. He can’t hear whatever Dean and Cas are up to, though. He doesn’t worry about it, though. They can watch if they really want to, though he suspects they’ll be more interested in something else. Cas has attempted to indulge him before, letting him touch the bodies in their morgue, while rutting against Cas’s ass when they were at work, but Cas wasn’t willing to give up control. He’s always been the more domineering for the two.

Jimmy lets himself relax into the bed and undo his jeans. His cock is already interested, but he stays away from it for the moment, just pulling his pants off and kicking them down the bed. He lets his fingers skim up the arm of the corpse next to him. The body is still warm, still pliant, but there’s no mistaking that there’s no one home. The skin doesn’t reach when Jimmy brushes his fingers against it. Pallor is already setting in and it won’t be long before the body temperature drops. He prefers them when they’re cold to the touch, but he can’t really expect that now, can he? It’s only been forty or so minutes since the bastard took his last breath. Jimmy shuts his eyes and just lets himself feel. He doesn’t think too much about what it would be like to actually strip the corpse and go for it, but he does let the idea of it get him excited. The tip of his cock is straining against the elastic in his underwear, and he finally lets his free hand slip inside to pull it out. The air’s a little cold but it feels good against his skin, and he thumbs the soft head for a while. Faintly he’s aware that the shower’s shut off, but he doesn’t think too much about it. He shudders, teasing a sensitive spot just below the head of his cock with his thumb and whines.

“You don’t wait, do you?” Sam asks. He’s standing in the doorway, naked, hair dripping on the carpet. His dick isn’t even hard.

“Do didn’t say I had to,” Jimmy says, drawing his hand away from his cock.

“Well, I didn’t exactly think I’d be calling the shots. Now, move over.”

Jimmy snorts, climbing off the bed. “Not calling the shots eh?”

Sam doesn’t answer, just lays back on the bed and spreads his legs. “I’m prepped already. You just… do whatever the hell it is you were gonna do.”

Jimmy strips his shirt off and settles on the bed between Sam’s knees. “And what is that, exactly?”

“Whatever. Pretend I’m a corpse. Go nuts,” Sam says, putting his hands behind his head and settling down into the mattress. Jimmy startles for a moment, as Sam’s skin is freezing. There are goosebumps peppering his skin and a minor tremble in his body.

“Why are you cold?”

“Shower. Figured, it’d help with the whole, illusion thing.”

Jimmy shuts his eyes, breathing out slowly. Holy shit. This is just – it’s a little bit much and if he doesn’t relax this isn’t going to last too long and that would be a damn shame. His heart is racing in his chest and he’s starting to get dizzy. “Jesus,” he mutters.

“Go nuts,” Sam says.

“Okay, first off,” Jimmy grabs Sam’s arms and pulls them down, straight to Sam’s body with the palms facing up, “corpses don’t lounge.”

“Got it,” Sam says.

“And they don’t talk either.”

Sam opens his mouth but then purses his lips and rolls his eyes. Jimmy lets his hands skim up and down Sam’s arms then down his chest. Sam shudders.

“Don’t do that,” Jimmy says.

“Do what?”

“Don’t move.”

“I’m not,” Sam says.

“You shivered.”

“I’m cold. It’s not voluntary,” Sam says.

Jimmy rolls his eyes. “Well, stop it. Shut your eyes if you have to.  Just lay here and take it. Corpses don’t react.”

Sam huffs but shuts his eyes. Jimmy skims his hands up and down Sam’s chest but this time he doesn’t shudder as hard. His jaw is tight and Jimmy knows he’s clenching his teeth, but it’s alright. It’s close enough. Jimmy’s eyes drift over to the body lying next to them as he lets his hands skim down to Sam’s thighs. He’s so damn cold, and Jimmy has to bite his lip to keep from groaning.

He slides a finger to Sam’s hole, which is a lot more open than he expected. He slips inside and strokes his walls. He’s much warmer inside, as to be expected. To Sam’s credit, he doesn’t react more than the way his muscles clench and ripple around his finger.

Sam’s eyes are closed and his breathing slow, his chest barely rising and falling with each breath. He’s doing a decent job of looking asleep at least. Jimmy pulls his finger out and spreads Sam’s legs a little wider. He doesn’t bother to warn Sam when he takes his own dick in hand and pushes forward. To Sam’s credit, he only gasps a little as Jimmy slides in.

Jimmy lays his body over Sam’s, running his hands up and down his still body. Jimmy gives himself over to a full-body shudder.

“God,” he whispers, nipping at the cool skin of Sam’s shoulder. He doesn’t bother moving for a while, he just lets himself feel the chill against his skin, feel the way his own cock jumps and twitches. He can’t quite put his finger on why it’s so good. He’s not even doing anything, but it’s driving him crazy. Sam’s quiet and still, possibly holding his breath, but if Jimmy shuts his eyes he might be able to imagine this is real.

Jimmy rises up, eyes still closed, slipping Sam’s legs over his hips. He pulls out and slides back in, paying no mind to how hard or fast he’s going. For once, this isn’t about who he’s fucking, this is about him. He groans, letting himself fall into the fantasy. Maybe someday he’ll have the ball to do it for real.

One of Sam’s legs falls off his waist, sliding off the bed until it dangles over the edge. The angle changes now, making Sam feel so much tighter around Jimmy’s cock. Jimmy moans, ignoring Sam’s gentle huffs of breath. He soothes a hand up Sam’s thigh and stomach, and the muscles jump under his fingers. Jimmy leans forward and for the first time, he notices Sam’s cock, full and hard against his stomach. He tells himself it’s postmortem priapism; angel lust. Brought on by a swift and violent death, like hanging or strangulation or…

“Fuck,” Jimmy gasps, panting hard. He bites his lip, clutching at Sam’s thigh to steady himself. He opens his eyes and stills himself. His chest is heaving and he’s balanced on a razor’s edge. Sam’s eyes flutter open. He furrows his brow but doesn’t speak, thankfully.

Jimmy lets his gaze drift to the body next to them. Strangulation has been known to cause postmortem priapism. He’s seen it before, he just never been allowed… he’d never let himself…

Jimmy gulps, casting his eyes to the ceiling. He takes a few more steadying breaths and makes up his mind. He leans back over Sam, tucking his face into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He groans, gripping Sam’s arm with his right hand while he lets his left hand travel to the body next to them. His hand slips under the soft pajama pants Don was wearing as he buries his cock as far as he can inside Sam. And then he finds Don’s fully erect dick. Jimmy whines.

His hands are shaking too badly to be elegant as he strokes Don’s cock, but it’s not like he minds. Jimmy’s hips stutter as he thrusts into Sam, desperate and uncoordinated. He screams into Sam’s neck as he finally comes, both hands squeezing too hard into flesh.

It takes him longer than usual for him to come down. His dick is soft when he pulls out of Sam and collapses against the footboard of the bed. Gingerly, Sam sits up and leans against the headboard.

“You okay?” Jimmy asks, breathless.

Sam groans a bit. “I’m gonna be sore tomorrow, but yeah, we’re good. You good?”

Jimmy shuts his eyes and nods. It’s going to take him a while to process it all, for it to solidify as a real thing inside his head.

“Well,” Sam says patting him on the thigh, “I’m gonna get warm and we’ll figure out the rest.”

Jimmy just nods as the bed dips. Yeah, they’ll figure it out, but maybe he can nap first.

Jimmy, Jemma, and Cas

jamesnovakwinchester:

Title: Jimmy, Jemma, and Cas
AO3 Link
Pairing: Castiel/Dean/Jimmy
Square Filled: Gender Fluid Character
Tags: Drag Queen!Jimmy, Gender Fluid!Cas, Drag Shows, Mentioned Homophobia, Mentioned Exorsexism, Characters referring to themselves as queer, Shy Sam, Sassy Jimmy
Summary: Dean decides it’s time for Sam to meet his partners. And, what better way to do that than to take Sam to one of his boyfriend Jimmy’s drag shows?

Dean steered Sam club by his shoulders, pushing him into the crowd and towards the table in the front of the theater that had been reserved specially for the two of them. It was one of only a handful of clubs that Dean actually enjoyed going to, and that was more to do with the fact that it wasn’t even really a nightclub. It was more of a comedy club/community theater house/drag show venue than anything else. 

Sam scoffed in front of him. “You know I can walk by myself, right?” He asked, dragging his feet a little. 

“Yeah, but you’re a much better battering ram than I am so, make like Moses and part this sea of people for me, yeah?” 

Dean could practically hear Sam’s eye roll. “You could just say excuse me.”

“Or I could use you to make them move.” 

Dean continued to steer them forward until they ran into the table they were supposed to sit at. It was Dean’s usual table, one that had been his since he’d started going to drag shows and long before he and Jimmy ever started dating. As usual, there was a small vase holding two red roses sitting in the center of the table. Sam smirked at him. 

“Aren’t you supposed to bring him flowers?” Sam asked, taking his seat. 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Please. I’ve gotten roses here since before we started dating. And, I told you, in here, you refer to Jimmy as Jemma and it’s she, by the way.” 

Keep reading

Safe and Sound

SPN Rare Ship CC: Round 12 | rosemoonweaver vs. @anactorya
Prompt: Balloons
Ship: Cas/Dean/Jimmy/Sam (winjimstiel)
Word Count: 3,784
Tags/Warnings: hot air balloons, albuquerque, anxiety, panic attacks, rimming, oral sex, blow jobs, foursome – m/m/m/m, polyamory, explicit sexual content
Summary: Sam, Cas, and Jimmy really want to ride in the hot air balloon and Dean really doesn’t want to say no, no matter how much it scares him. 
AO3 Link

Dean isn’t sure how the hell he wound up agreeing to this, but at least he was too tired to really comprehend it – yet. It’s too damn early to be awake yet, the sun just barely deciding it was time to get it’s own ass up, but he Dean is, bundled up in sweaters and mittens and a wool hat, standing in the middle of a field waiting for giant ass balloons to fill up. It had been Cas and Jimmy’s idea. The two of them had apparently been on several hot air balloon rides when they were kids and for some ungodly reason, they wanted Sam and Dean to experience it, too. They even resorted to those damn puppy dog eyes, and really. Dean was no match for three sets of big sad eyes all trained on him.

So, here he is, sipping watery hot cocoa and standing in wet grass, Sam and Jimmy on either side of him while Cas hunts down something for breakfast. Jimmy and Sam both have coffee and it smells delicious, but Dean’s not planning on making the mistake of waking himself up for this more than he has to be. It’s bad enough he actually agreed to step inside a hot air balloon and he’s pretty sure the second they start to lift off he’s going to be wide awake so there’s no way in hell he’s gonna wake himself up before that.

Cas comes back with four breakfast burritos wrapped in tinfoil too hot to really touch so Dean stuffs his in the pocket of his hoodie. Sam is undeterred and tears into it without so much as a blink. Jimmy digs in, huffing and hedging his bites carefully as the steam rolls right into his face. Dean rolls his eyes and smiles.

The flight crew is still fussing with the balloon, which is laid out on the grass like a giant quilt. It’s rainbow striped and in your usual, boring balloon shape. Jimmy had wanted to ride in the one shaped like a cow but they weren’t doing rides. The flood lights around the gondola go on and one of the men steps into the opening of the balloon, holding it above his head as it drapes around his shoulders. Another man turns on the fan seated beside the gondola, the balloon ripples as it fills with air.

Dean can’t say whose idea the whole trip was, but it sure as hell wasn’t his. Albuquerque is a nightmare city. The streets are spotty at best, with potholes and cracks nearly everywhere on the main streets. No one knows how to use a turn signal, or drive the speed limit, or drive in general. The downtown traffic is a mess and the street lights change faster than if a hyperactive kindergartener was playing with the switches. Also, there’s a goddamn amusement park in the middle of the city, behind a Taco Bell and with no hotels anywhere within decent driving distance. Also, it’s hot and dry and Dean’s pretty sure he’s never used more lotion in his entire life. Even Sam is complaining about what it’s doing to his hair, and that man doesn’t even have to brush it. It’s a mess.

There are a few things that make the city worthwhile, though. For one, Dean couldn’t spit without hitting a quirky little diner and most of the food is amazing; it’s all smothered in sauces and cheese and deep fried and spicy as hell and Dean’s pretty sure he’s clogged all his arteries but it’s not like he cares. Sam’s getting his fill of avocados, too, which is great. Cas really enjoys the sunsets, standing out on the balcony of their hotel room to take pictures of the sun as it dips below the mountains and paints the sky pink. He’s also a fan of the city lights and has been obsessed with taking pictures of the valley at night. In all, it’s been a decent vacation when they’re not in the car or ignoring the way their bodies are being sucked dry by the weather.

The only issue is the damn balloon thing. September to October, Albuquerque holds the world’s largest hot air balloon gathering. People from around the world come in to fly their balloons, gawk at the balloons, and make life hell for the locals. From the ground, they’re great. They’re everywhere in the sky at all times of the day and it’s honestly kinda pretty. Dean has no problem with them, and he certainly doesn’t have a problem with his boyfriends pressing their faces to the windows inside the Impala and pointing them out to each other. He does have an issue with the idea of stepping into one and expecting it to carry his ass through the air. With no protection. While he’s standing under a flamethrower. In the air.

Dean’s always had a thing about heights. It’s not so much the being up high if he’s in a building, it’s if he has to stand on top of that building that there’s an issue. Also, there’s the plane thing. Planes are a huge no-no. It doesn’t matter how many times Sam’s told him he’s more likely to die if a vending machine fell on him, what matters is that they’re big metal death traps flying through the air at god knows how high like that’s a thing people were actually meant to do.  But. Cas and Jimmy really wanted to do this and Dean figured it wouldn’t be so bad if it was early in the morning and he wasn’t awake enough to process it.

The balloon fills with air, rippling and puffing in odd places was the whole thing starts to lift. The pilot comes over to talk to them. She’s an older woman named Mildred, and she’s entirely too chipper for anyone this early.

“So, just some safety things before we take off. One, make sure your scarves and hair are out of the way of the rigging. If it gets tangled in the ropes you’re not going to have a good time. Stay in the basket, obviously, and don’t lean over the sides. You can look, but don’t hang out of it or you could wind up a splat on the ground. Also, the fuel tanks are going to be on either side of you. Don’t fiddle with ‘em or else. And mind the fire,” she says, patting Sam on the arm, “usually we don’t have to say anything about that but for taller riders, you should just be aware of it.”

Sam chuckles.

“Any other questions?” Mildred asks.

Cas and Jimmy both shake their heads. Behind Mildred, the gondola tips upward at an angle as the balloon tries to lift off. The fan stops and the crew around it climb into the basket. One pulls a cable and fire shoots into the balloon with a deafening roar. The balloon and basket right themselves, and Mildred motions for them to follow. She jogs to it, vaulting over the basket that’s nearly as tall as she is. Sam gets in with minimal effort while Dean and Cas pull themselves in. Jimmy has the most trouble, getting his foot stuck over the edge and nothing else. Cas pulls him in the basket while Dean hides a chuckle behind his hand.

The instant the ropes are untied, Mildred pulls the cord and the fire is even louder than it was before. They ascent quickly, and Dean does his damnedest to not think about it. The basket beneath his feet doesn’t have a whole lot of give, but it still shifts when he rocks his weight back and forth between his feet. It’s not terrible, and the lift off isn’t that jarring, but his stomach still feels like it’s about to drop at any moment.

“Dude, look,” Sam says, nudging him with his shoulder.

Dean isn’t even aware he’d closed his eyes until he opens them. The sun is coming up now, tinging the sky a soft purple around the mountains. About a dozen other balloons are scattered around them, some higher, some lower, all glowing when their cords are pulled the air is heated. Dean forgets to be afraid for a moment.

“It’s beautiful,” Cas says, snuggling close to Dean’s back.

“Yeah, it is,” Dean says.

They climb higher as more balloons join them in the air. The sun peaks out fully from behind the mountains, and they begin to drift away from the cluster of color in the sky. They drift into the open areas of the city, which is surprising as the whole thing seems packed beyond belief.

“That’s the Rio Grande below us,” Mildred says, pointing out over the edge.

Like an idiot, Dean glances over the side alone with Cas, Jimmy, and Sam. The looks more like a murky stream with the sandbars exposed the way they are. The forest that surrounds it – because apparently there’s also a forest in the city – looks drier than it probably should, but maybe that’s a consequence of fall. Jimmy takes a few pictures.

“How high up are we?” Jimmy asks.

“’Bout 300 feet,” Mildred says. “We’ll go up a little higher when we fly over the Bosque, it’s just nice to be closer to the river. If we were in Colorado I’d take you to right above the surface.”

Dean gulps. His heart beats a little faster, and he knows his upper lip is starting to sweat. It’s not that high, logically, he knows that, but it’s still pretty high. If a strong wind were to pick up right now and tip the basket they’d probably die. Maybe the water would break their fall. Then again, it’s not that deep and there was that Mythbusters episode about falling into the water. How high was that dummy again? Was it only 100 feet? Because if that was the case they were all totally fucked if the wind kicked up.

Mildred pulled the cord and the balloon soared higher, letting the river shrink below them. The loud rush of air stays in Dean’s ears even after the fire goes out, and Dean feels his heart start to pound in his chest. No. This cannot be happening now. Not now of all times, dammit! If he has a panic attack up here in the sky there’s no way he can get down and he is not going to embarrass Sam and Cas and Jimmy like that. Goddammit, he really should’ve taken a Xanax before they left the hotel.

“Dean? Are you okay?” Jimmy asks, stroking Dean’s arm.

Dean bites his lip, but it must be obvious to everyone that he’s freaking the fuck out by the way they’re looking at him. Sam’s brow is furrowed, his lips in a tight line. Cas is curled close on one side while Jimmy hovers on the other. Mildred is frowning at him. God, he must look pathetic right now. He’s such a fucking embarrassment.

Dean’s trying to control his breathing. It wants to come out in huffs and stutters, but he’s got to keep it together. He’s got to. He can’t do this here, no matter how much he wants to curl up on the floor of the basket and disappear. He can’t do this right now.

“He’s having a panic attack,” Mildred says, “don’t worry hon, it happens more than you’d think.”

Dean nods. That doesn’t really help but at least he’s not the only idiot on the planet.

“Well,” Mildred says, “are you three just going to stand there or are you going to comfort your boyfriend?”

Dean’s pretty sure he’s going to be sick now. If the look on Jimmy’s face is any indication, he is, too.

“I might have been born at night but it wasn’t last night. I know you’re all together. Doesn’t bother me none, I was out chasing skirts in the 60s,” Mildred says.

“You were – do what now?” Jimmy babbles.

“Just comfort your boyfriend.”

Jimmy scoots closer, his fingers tangling with Dean’s own. Sam’s hand comes to land on his back, stroking warm circles up and down his spine, and Cas presses a soft kiss to the back of his neck. Dean gulps and takes a deep breath. Mildred is probably judging them. She probably thinks this is weird, no matter what she says. Hell, she might not but maybe if she knew they were sets of brothers…. Wait, no, that’s not helping.

Dean takes in a deep breath. Maybe if he grounds himself just a little. He’s got Cas, Jimmy, and Sam all next to him. They’re safe. They know him. They won’t judge. They love him. He’s okay. He’s in the air but the basket is solid under his feet. There’s no wind. He’s okay. The sky is a pretty blue, at least, and the city is moving towards the horizon. There are cars and buses and buildings over there, just minding their own business. He catches a whiff of coffee from Mildred’s travel mug. It smells strong and nutty and it makes Dean’s mouth water a little, no matter the fact that he probably doesn’t need to be more wired right now.

He exhales slowly and with purpose. So he’s having a panic attack. That’s not unusual but it is what it is. He’ll just wait it out. It’ll pass, it’s just going to suck. At least he has his favorite people with him.

“So, you were really chasing skirts in the 60s?” Dean asks.

Mildred laughs. “Of course. It wasn’t called free love for nothin’.”

“You got any stories to tell?”

“Oh, I do indeed.”

~~~~

The ride takes three hours. By the time Dean steps back onto solid ground his legs are wobbly but he’ll take it. He’s been off the panic attack for hours but he’s exhausted to the bone. God, those suck so hard.

Sam takes the keys to the car and makes Dean sit in the back with the twins. Mildred had told them to “take him home and spoil him” with a saucy wink and apparently that means Dean gets to be in the middle of a Novak sandwich. It’s not like he minds, though, it’s differently one of his favorite places to be.

Cas’s hand is skimming down the front of his shirt, playing with the buttons as he dips his fingers into stroke Dean’s stomach. Jimmy is nibbling on his neck, his hand resting on Dean’s thigh.

“We’re sorry,” Cas says, “we didn’t realize you would have the issues you did up so high.”

“’S okay,” Dean says, rolling his head to expose more of his neck. Jimmy’s teeth slip out to nip his skin occasionally, but he mostly sticks to kissing and licking at the sensitive spot just behind Dean’s ear lobe. Dean shudders as Cas pops the buttons on his shirt front.

“We hate it when you’re upset,” Jimmy coos. “We want to make it up to you.” He nuzzles his nose into Dean’s hair as Cas presses his lips against Dean’s. Dean allows himself to be pulled along with Cas by the lips as Jimmy spreads Dean’s thighs.

“I’m sure Sam would like to, too,” Cas says, a hairsbreadth away from Dean’s lips.

“Sam,” Jimmy says, “tell Dean how you’d like to make it up to him.”

Sam shifts in the front seat, on hand on the steering wheel and the other out of sight. He locks eyes with Dean through the rearview mirror. “I think he could use a full body massage,” Sam says.

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Jimmy says, kneading Dean’s thigh.

“Where would you like to start, Sam?” Cas asks.

“Shoulders, maybe,” Sam shrugs. “I’d like to work my way down.”

Dean shudders and Cas chuckles against his skin.

“You can take the back, I’ll take the front,” Cas says.

“What about me?” Jimmy pouts against Dean’s skin.

“We could switch,” Cas suggests.

“Or you could pay special attention to his head. He likes a good skull massage. Maybe a neck massage. Or you could pay attention to that oral fixation he has,” Sam says.

Okay, this is how Dean’s going to die. The balloon was bad, but having all three of his boyfriends talk about what they want to do with him like he’s not even there is going to be the death of him.

“Would you like that, Dean?” Jimmy asks, “would you like it if I put something in that pretty mouth of yours? Something for you to suck on?” Jimmy thumbs his lower lip, his eyes glazed like he’s lost in the thought of it. And, if he’s honest, Dean is too.

“God, yes,” Dean says.

The pull up to the hotel just in time. Cas is already working Dean over in a loose fist and he can tell by the way Sam is squirming in the front seat that he’s having a hard time keeping it together. They don’t even bother trying to make themselves decent, they just make a mad dash towards the outdoor stairwell and to their room.

The door is opened and Dean is pushed inside, after which he’s surrounded on all fronts. The door slams shut and Dean’s got Jimmy – or at least he thinks it’s Jimmy – ripping his pants off while Sam kisses him. He’s barely got his hands tangled in Sam’s soft locks before Sam is pulling back to strip his shirt off and Cas takes his place, rolling his hips against Dean’s. He’s barely got any time to breathe in between the kisses and the hands pulling and pushing at all sides. He winds up on his side on the bed, completely naked.

Sam, Cas, and Jimmy are all naked too, their clothes scattered on the floor and on hanging off the television. Jimmy gets on the bed first, knee walking until his dick is right above Dean’s face. Sam and Cas then join him, Sam settling in behind him and Cas at his groin. It actually starts with a massage, as Sam had suggested. Jimmy rakes his nails across Dean’s skull while Cas rubs his chest. Behind him, Sam presses the heel of his palms into Dean’s shoulders. It feels nice, and Dean groans as the knots in his body release. Sam whispers a swear behind him.

Dean’s a little dizzy. It might be the remnants of the panic or the fact that he’s getting a really good massage, or maybe it’s a combination of the two, but he feels soft and floaty. It’s good and calming and that means he almost jumps when Sam’s tongue touches at the soft flesh of his ass. Cas chuckles in front of him, running his own tongue up the vein in Dean’s cock. Dean shudders, and Sam bites into his left ass cheek.

Cas and Sam don’t waste much time after that, Sam sliding his tongue against his pucker and Cas licking the slit of Dean’s cock. Dean moans, biting his lip.

“No, no,” Jimmy says thumbing Dean’s lip from between his teeth, “don’t you dare try to keep those lovely noises quiet. I want to hear you. Cas wants to hear you. Sam wants to hear you.”

As if to prove Jimmy’s point, Sam spears his tongue into Dean’s hole while Cas takes the crown of Dean’s cock into his mouth.

“Shit,” Dean whimpers.

“That’s it, baby,” Jimmy coos, “let us hear you.” He’s stroking Dean’s hair and cradling his head.

Sam swirls his tongue in circles over Dean’s hole before licking long, broad strokes up it. He alternates between licking and nipping at Dean’s cheeks before diving back in. Dean feels his pleased grunts vibrate up his spine. Cas, on the other side, is bobbing slow and steady up and down Dean’s dick, shifting his angle until he can take Dean to the root and swallow.

“Fuck!” Dean moans.

“Tell me how it feels,” Jimmy says.

“”S good,” Dean groans.

“Yeah?” Jimmy asks, scratching up and down the base of Dean’s skull, “Sam’s so good with his tongue.”

Dean groans, shuddering and closing his eyes. He’s not going to last very long if he’s subjected to this for much longer.

“Cas is okay,” Jimmy says, followed by a loud smack and a yip. “Okay, he’s more than okay. He’s marvelous. He doesn’t have a gag reflex.” Dean’s legs twitch and he threads his fingers through Cas’s hair. Jimmy’s hand joins his own, guiding Cas to bob faster. “He used to practice on me, back when we were in college.”

“Fuck… Jimmy… you gotta stop talkin’,” Dean says, more breath than words.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“I’m gonna… I’m not… not gonna,” Dean cuts himself off with a sharp inhale as Sam slides on finger inside his body. He presses into the glorious little bundle of nerves with laser like focus.

“Shhh, baby, it’s okay,” Jimmy says.

Dean lets out a warbling cry, half sob, and half moan. His whole body is on fire and he’s going to die if he has to stay still for much longer.

Jimmy’s cock slides over Dean’s lips and he takes his opportunity to let out some of his frustrations. He pulls Jimmy close and holds his waist, taking as much of Jimmy as he can into his mouth. Jimmy groans and Dean sucks hard, the way he knows Jimmy likes.

“Fuck, baby,” Jimmy sighs, “keep doing that.”

So Dean does.

It’s not long before Jimmy is babbling, his hips desperate to trust into Dean’s mouth. Dean feels the pleasured moans of Sam and Cas as they suck and lick at him, both fucking their firsts if the slick smacking sounds are anything to go by.

It all builds and builds until Dean just can’t take it anymore. He pulls off Jimmy’s cock and buries his face into Jimmy’s hip, moaning as his orgasm over takes him and his body trembles. Jimmy pets his hair as Cas swallows him down and Sam continues rubbing his prostate. Then, all at once it’s too much and Dean squirms. Cas and Sam pull away, kissing each other, then Jimmy. Dean sighs, too worn out to really contribute and lets them work it out between them. Sam comes first with a groan, then Cas, nearly silent save for the almost pained gasp he always gives. Jimmy is last and loudest, and some of his come hits Dean in the face. Before he can apologize, Dean wipes it away with a finger and offers it to Cas, who takes it easily.

The four of them cuddle up in the center of the bed, not speaking. It’s nice and warm and Dean feels completely safe. He falls asleep.

Lazy Sunday

SPN Rare Ship CC: Round 12 | rosemoonweaver vs. @jhoomwrites
Prompt: Cake
Ship: Dean/Victor
Word Count: 1,442
Tags/Warnings: Explicit sexual content, anal sex, bottom!Dean/top!Victor
Summary: Victor and Dean eat cake in bed. 
AO3 Link

“You’re going to get crumbs on the bed,” Victor said.

Dean shrugged, pulling the fork from his mouth. “I’m gonna have to change the sheets anyway.”

Victor rolled his eyes, sliding his hands up Dean’s sides and back down to rest at Dean’s hips. They were both naked, as they had been since Victor had gotten off work the night before, though they hadn’t spent all that time in bed. There were a few moments when Dean had actually allowed Victor to move around on his own, whether it be to shower to call his sister or get a sandwich, but for the most part, Dean was adamant that they stay naked and in bed.

“What are Sundays for,” Dean had said, “if you can’t lay around the house pants free and stay in bed?”

And, well, Victor supposed he had a point.

“Where’d you get that anyway,” Victor asked as Dean lifted the fork and offered him a bite. It was white cake with strawberry frosting. Not the kind of frosting that came in a can, either, it was the kind of frosting that tasted like real, fresh strawberries.

Dean blushed and pursed his lips. “I made it.”

“You made this?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, I bake,” Dean said, though he ducked his head and ran the tines of the fork through the frosting.

“I know, but what’s the occasion?”

Dean shrugged and shoved another forkful into Victor’s mouth.

Victor rolled his eyes but ate it anyway, soothing his hands up and down Dean’s back.

“What’s bothering you?” Victor asked, pulling his boyfriend closer with strong hands on his shoulder blades.

Dean set the plate down on the nightstand, letting himself be tugged closer until Victor was holding him by the back of the neck, their faces a few inches away.

“Nothin’,” Dean said, leaning in for a kiss.

Victor kissed back, pulling away when Dean’s tongue darted out.  “You know you suck at lying.”

“I do not!” Dean scoffed, “I’m an excellent liar. I told your mom she makes great beef stroganoff.”

Victor snorted. “Yes, but I know you. You can’t lie to me.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”

“So… spill.”

Dean sighed. “I dunno, it’s just… feel off I guess.”

“Off?”

“Yeah, off. Like just not good.”

“Don’t you be getting sick on me now, Winchester. I don’t do nursemaid well.”

“Awh, come on babe, I’m sure you’d look great in a nurse’s outfit.”

“Isn’t the cop uniform enough?”

“Well, for now, sure but I can only be desperate enough to get out of a traffic ticket so many times before my hot cop might get suspicious.”

Victor snorted, kissing Dean’s cheek. “Seriously, though, are you sick?”

Dean groaned, letting his head fall to Victor’s shoulder. “No,” he mumbled.

“Then what’s up?”

“I dunno. Kinda bummed.”

“Why?”

“I guess I just, we’ve been living together for what, a month now?”

“Just about, I think.”

“How come you never have the guys over then? I mean, it’s your house you can do whatever, I don’t care, but it’s like the only people here are you and me all the time and you always go to Benny’s for poker and we met your sister for dinner when she could’ve just come here. I dunno. Just forget about it.”

“You’re worried I’m hiding you.”

Dean shrugged and Victor knew he’d nailed it on the head. “Babe – “

“No, no, I get it. It’s new. Like, you’ve got an ex-wife and everyone’s got this image of you or whatever and it’s like a transition period or whatever but –“

“My sister knows,” Victor said, “that’s what the whole dinner thing was about. Introducing her to my boyfriend, the old-fashioned way.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So what’s the worry.”

Dean sighed, pulling himself up on his elbows. “If you tell anyone what I’m about to say I swear to god I will break up with you,” Dean said.

Victor smirked, but he bit his tongue. Dean’s habit of being overly dramatic was adorable. It was often tied to protecting whatever image of himself he thought he needed to portray, so it was a little less adorable in that sense but it was still amusing. Maybe one of these days Victor would find a way to break him of that. After all, it had been Dean who’d found a way to drag him out of the closet, at least to himself, so if there was a way for Victor to do it maybe there was hope for Dean.

Dean licked his lips, his eyes landing on the potted plant on the other end of the room. “When I was little my mom was like, one of those homemakers, you know? Like, she did the whole on Sunday, Christmas parties, invite God and everyone over and feed them ‘til they pop kind of thing. And after she died and Sam and I went off to college, I guess I missed it. I haven’t really had much of a reason to do any homemaking or whatever since then so I guess I just kinda hoped…”

“You want to be a househusband?”

“Well, I mean, kinda. I like having people over and cooking for them and shit.”

“You want my poker buddies to come over so you can make them jalapeno poppers. And you want to feed my sister.”

Dean shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “I guess.”

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing. We could have a barbeque next Friday if you wanted, have some people over.”

“But next Friday is your birthday and you were gonna go –“

“Maybe I wanna stay in?”

Dean perked up a little at that. “You’d be okay with that? Would you friends…”

“They’re gonna have to get used to it if they’re really my friends. If not, fuck ‘em. I’m kinda crazy about you, you know.” He leaned forward, planting a firm kiss on Dean’s lips.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get sappy,” Dean said. He smiled into their next kiss.

Victor laid a quick smack to Dean’s ass, causing him to jerk in Victor’s lap. “I’ll get as sappy as I want.”

They kissed again, slow and gentle, each kiss longer than the last. Dean would up laying across Victor’s body, rolling his hips every once in a while. It was enough to get Victor, and his dick, interested in a little more than just making out, and Victor let his hands slide down Dean’s back and to the globes of his ass.

Dean sighed when Victor’s finger breached him. He was still a little wet from early in the day, and Victor was able to slide two fingers inside before Dean whined and squirmed, fidgeting to get a better angle.

Victor flipped them over, settling himself between Dean’s legs and hiking his knees up over his shoulder. He found the lube where it had gotten lost in the blankets at the end of the bed and slicked up his fingers. Dean always tended to get needy around this part, demanding Victor just hurry up and fuck him, but Victor was nothing if not thorough.

Dean’s sharp little gasp when Victor finally slid his cock inside was something he’d never get tired of. That, and the warm pulsing of Dean around his cock, like a heartbeat, fast but steady. It was too good for words. Victor pulled out slow then drove back in at the same pace. It didn’t take long for Dean to whine, to scrape his nails down Victor’s back and beg for a little harder, a little faster. Victor always held out at first. He wanted to make Dean desperate for it, drive him to the point where he was curling his toes against the small of Victor’s back before he gave in. He would start out taunting and then dissolve into a strung-out mess until finally, Victor snapped his hips forward.

“Yes!” Dean cried, “Oh, god, yes! That! Keep doing – aaahhhaa – that!”

It was like music.

The harder Victor thrust the faster Dean pushed his hips backward. The faster Victor thrust, the more his thighs and gut tingled with his impending release. Dean felt it too, his hand flying up and down his own dick as quick as he could manage. Still, Victor held off until he watched Dean arc forward, eyes shut tight as a wail fell from his lips and he came. Dean squeezed tighter around Victor’s cock and he came too, with a gasp.

When they caught their breaths and Victor rolled off Dean snuggled in close, arm draped lazily over Victor’s waist.

“I’m crazy about you, too, you know,” Dean said.

“Yeah, I know.”

@intotheruins replied to your post “I’m trying to figure out how I’m gonna do the self promo for rare…”

Fav rares you’ve written! (grabby hands)

1) Megstiel. I fuckin’ *barely human noises* I love Megstiel. I’ve written two so far:
Forget-Me-Not which has made a few people cry (MCD warning but I swear to you it’s got a happy ending) and
Caged Heat which is just pwp with a cock cage. 

2) Dean/Micheal. I actually really enjoyed writing this pairing and I want to write a longer fic in the future.
You Can’t Say That is drunk taboo and it was a freaking blast. 

3) Calthazar. I am a card carrying member of the Balthazar defense league, and I have a huge soft spot for the two of them just being oddly domestic.
Auld Lang Syne (Days Gone By) – in which Cas gets puked on…again. 

I haven’t read nearly as much of your stuff as I should have so… Which fic are you most proud of? And just for fun if you want, I’ll be curious, why? I’ll start my reasing there. :) (If it’s a non-au Destiel though, I’m really, really, /really/sorry, but do you have a second?)

You know, I don’t think I actually write much that isn’t an AU… my rare pairs tend to be more canon!verse I think. Regardless – 

The fic I’m most proud of is Some Things Last. It’s deanjimstiel, and was my entry for the DCJ bang this last year. Of all the fics I’ve written, it’s the most personal to me even though there isn’t a whole lot in it that’s based off my own life experience (some but not a lot). I will say that I project pretty hard onto Jimmy and there’s a lot more of me in him than there is of me in other characters. It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written at just over 60k. I really do think it’s my best fic, too. I have a few things I wish I did differently, but it’s what it is and I’m really damn happy with it. It’s angsty, funny, sweet, and parts of it make my heart ache. I don’t wanna ramble and say talk about what I think makes it really good because I don’t wanna sound like I have a big head or anything, but I do think one of the strengths with it is that there is a lot of varied emotion in it and everyone has their own issues they’re dealing with. I think I did a damn good job, if I do say so myself. 

If that’s not really your speed, there are two other fics I’m also pretty proud of. They’re much shorter and very pwp but I liked them a lot. (I have a hard time finishing long fics, aparently.) 

Four Can Play at That Game is winjimstiel and it’s so ridiculous. Like, it’s competitive sexting, so it can’t really get more silly than that imo. But I had a blast with it. 

Bliss is also one I’m very happy with it. Early season wincest, no angst, just pwp and bottom!Dean. It was a surprise to me ‘cause I wrote it on a whim and it flowed really easily.