“Rowena?” That was all Sam could think to say, seeing her standing there in the door of the bunker.
“Yes, yes, Samuel, it’s me.” She swept inside, bags in tow. He gaped at her.
“You…Lucifer…he said you were dead.”
Rowena placed her bags on the war room table and turned to him. “I was. But I’m a survivor, Samuel. Twice he’s tried and twice he’s failed. This time, I’m goin’ to make him pay.”
Sam looked at her. “Good luck with that. He’s stuck in an alternate dimension with…with my mom.”
The witch raised an eyebrow, then her face softened. “I…I am sorry, Samuel.”
He nodded, trying not to cry. Rowena turned to one of her bags, then turned back to him. “I’ve been tryin’ to reach Fergus. His phone goes straight to voicemail and he’s not answerin’ when I try to summon him. D’you know where he is?”
Sam froze, and Rowena immediately knew something was wrong.
“Samuel? What is it?” He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.
“Rowena…Crowley’s dead.”
She stared at him, her mind whirling. “No…” she finally said. “He’s the King of Hell. He can’t be dead.”
Sam looked at her, his face compassionate. “He is. I’m sorry, Rowena. I really am.”
Her face became expressionless, became a mask carved from porcelain. “D’ye have a spare room you could let me stay in for a couple of days? This is probably the safest place on the planet right now.” She grabbed her bags and waited.
He nodded and led her down the hallway to a room they usually let others stay in. It was clean and the linens were fresh. She walked in and sat her bags down. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I need my beauty sleep, Samuel. Bein’ burnt to a crisp wasn’t exactly good for my complexion.”
Sam nodded again and left, quietly shutting the door behind her. Rowena waited til she heard his footsteps move away down the hall and then sat down on the edge of the bed.
She felt as if ice had clogged her veins. Her empty stomach wanted to revolt.
Fergus was dead. Her son, her boy…he was dead.
She had often wondered how she would feel when this day came. It hadn’t been too long ago that she had tried to kill him herself.
But now…
She only noticed the tears when they splattered on her skirt. She wiped them away furiously with the sleeve of her blouse.
“Weak. Bloody weak, y’are,” she muttered to herself. “Bloody cryin’ over that ungrateful–”
Rowena sobbed out loud, not even caring if Sam heard her. The weight of her nearly four hundred years seemed to slam down onto her all at once. Her heart, the heart she had tried to deny she had for so long, was shattered.
She stopped crying some time later. She was curled up on the bed, and the pillow was wet from her tears. She sat up, feeling hollowed out and numb. She changed into a nightgown, not even realizing what she was doing. She lay back down on the bed, but left the lamp on.
“I loved you,” she whispered into the silence. “I loved you so much.”
This is one of my favorite fics of all time. It’s got a lot of kudos so I don’t rec it a lot, but it kills me every single time. What I really love is the way that the voices of the angels, God, and Jimmy Novak are presented in the fic. The form of the story is a big part of what sells the fic for me. And it’s funny as hell, so that’s a bonus.
Cas and Jimmy are sexy tattoo artists, Sam gets off on pain and Dean is having a really hard time dealing with it. Need I say more? Seriously, it’s an awesome fic and I adore it. There will never be enough winjimstiel for my needs, but this one hits a lot of great notes.
3. A FIC YOU WISH HAD GOTTEN MORE ATTENTION (LESS THAN 50 KUDOS ON AO3 OR LESS THAN 30 COMMENTS ON LJ)
This is my new favorite headcanon about the bunker. Apparently, it’s alive and hungry and creates lots of inconveniences for Sam and Dean and confuses poor Cas. Check it out, it’s funny as hell.
This fic made me cry, okay! Like a little weepy baby! It’s painful but happy and it hurts but it’s great and I just wanna wrap myself up in it. It’s ftm!Dean and it literally does kill me because it’s just too good for its own good.
I had never considered Claire and Emma as a pairing before this but I really love it. Claire’s kind of an asshole but it fits her character and Emma actually has a character and personality. It’s a really good little femslash fic.
6. A FIC WHICH MADE YOU SEE A CHARACTER IN A NEW LIGHT
Not so much a change in perspective for me but more of a “huh, I really like Sam and Cas together”. Like, I really appreciate that Cas doesn’t give a rats ass about social taboos, that Sam is a total sneaky bastard, and that Dean is….Dean. (You know what I mean.) But yeah, I think this one was the first fic that gave me a chance to see Sam and Cas teaming up and being awesome and wicked and I freaking loved it.
Not only did this fic make me ship a thing, it threw me into this wild tailspin of multishipping. (Deanjimstiel is a gateway ship, I’m tellin’ ya.) I think this has probably been most people’s introduction to Dean/Cas/Jimmy and for good reason. The conflict is amazing, the baseball is a lot of fun, and I really enjoyed how the characters grew. There was only one thing I ever was like “yeah, sure, never gonna happen” about it, but then I was proven completely wrong and I should eat my hat. (I’m not spoiling it, but you’ll know it when you see it.) Read it. It’s been highly influential in the DCJ fandom and is also a damn good fic.
(Also, it took me forever to realize the title was a gay sex joke…shut up.)
This one really makes me want to write an endverse fic but I know I won’t be able to do it with the atmosphere this one has. The way the word is presented is just tragic and beautiful and oppressive and sad and I love it. I’d like to be able to write something like this (and I’ve tried with dean/cas/inias/sam) but this one just… idk, it sticks with me.
“Okay,” he announces. “I’ve figured it out. Cas, are you ready to witness the reading comprehension my teachers in school never thought I had?”
“Those teachers obviously didn’t give you the chance you des-”
“Okay here we go. So, it’s a metaphor. Like the bath tub.”
“The bath tub is a metaphor?” Cas asks. “When did that happen?”
“A while ago, don’t worry about it. Anyway, about the hidebehinds. Well, what do they do?”
Cas just looks at him.
“Hide,” Dean prompts, raising his brows pointedly. “And what did I do after the- uh-” he glances at Sam, who he did ask not to listen, but still. There are some things he’s still maybe not ready to talk about when in mixed company, and The Thing That Happened In The Gym is one of them. “The thing?” he finishes. “I hid. Like, literally. Behind walls and everything. Even at the time I knew how pathetic it was.”
“So… you’re the hidebehinds in this metaphor?” Cas asks.
That’s all I’m gonna say because it just gets worse/funnier from there and I don’t want to spoil it.
All time forever favorite fic is Put Up Your Dukes by saltyfeathers. It kills me every time and I’ve read it 5 or 6 times. It’s destiel set in canon and it’s told from Dean’s POV. The whole thing is really funny and Dean is incredibly neurotic. Cas is also a little shit and Sam is long-suffering and he’s got some good lines, too. I love the fic. It’s not too angsty or fluffy but it’s a fic I really love.
But, The Siren and the Sea Monster by @ltleflrt is my second favorite. I just love it a lot. Dean works for Cain and plays guitar, Cas is an octopus…mermaid…person…? But it’s really sweet and I adore it. Also, tentacles because I’m one of those people. And Cas asking Dean if he’s a siren is the cutest damn thing ever.
Hi! Long time, no rec list lol. Anyway, I just thought I’d share some of my personal favorite Destiel fics. I tried to limit my fics to ones not created by big names within the fandom but some might be more popular than I thought they were. Explicit rated fics are below the cut. These authors did an amazing job and they deserve lots of love.
Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Tags: Alternate Universe – Fantasy, Alternate Universe – Greek Mythology, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Minor Character Death, Love Confessions, First Kiss, POV Dean Winchester, POV Castiel Word Count: 56,781 Summary: The Ancient Greek Gods live on – and sometimes, they walk among us. It’s a dark time for the Winchesters. Dean is doing his best to hold what remains of his family together – but his younger brother, Sam, can’t move on from the death of the girl he was going to marry, and it seems like there’s nothing Dean can do to ease that sadness. Far, far below them, in the Underworld, the blue-eyed Lord of Death – Hades himself – is struggling with his own grief. And more than that – Hades is in trouble. He needs help. When, one fateful evening, Hades meets the boys in a night-struck graveyard, he and Dean make a pact that will serve them both. It’s a mutually beneficial agreement, nothing more – a little play-acting in return for a single soul. And play-acting is all it is; Dean and Hades, God of Death, aren’t really together. Of course not. They just need to convince a Pantheon of Ancient Gods that they could be.
Thoughts: I get the urge to read this every time the seasons change. It’s one of those fics where the ideas are just so damn intriguing that I want to live in in the world of the fic for days inside my head. I’m just so weak for mythology AUs and this one takes a really interesting approach to mythology AUs. For one, the names of gods are more like titles as these gods die and need to be replaced by humans suitable for life with these powers. There’s a touch of reincarnation here, but not quite as the new gods aren’t born right when the old ones die. Still, it’s very interesting.
The characters cast as the gods are so on point. I was so pleased to see the casting that the author used here, especially with the characters on Olypumus. This fic re-tells two classic Greek myths, and I enjoyed both of the versions the author presented. There is also a wonderful scene where Cas and Dean make their way to Olympus and the way it’s done is heavy but it works well. I could have literally read 100k more of this AU, but I’m very hapy with what the author gave us.
Rating: Teen Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Tags: Prank Wars, Alternate Universe – High School, Fluff, April Fools’ Fluff, Sexual Harassment, Unprofessional Behavior, Prom Word Count: 33,726 Summary: High school rivals Dean and Castiel are locked in a prank war. How deep is their commitment to the cause? How low will they go? Which one will bend first? Who will come out on top? And other innuendo. AKA: Jock!Dean and punk!Cas (let’s be real they’re both actually big nerds) play gay chicken. Except neither of them really wants to win. Or lose, for that matter.
Thoughts: I don’t usually enjoy reading high school AUs, but I really enjoyed reading this. I love a good prank war fic, and these are some really fun and creative pranks. The characters also feel like real teenagers, which is something I really liked. It was a fun enemies to lovers fic and I really liked seeing their relationship grow. Also, there are lines in this fic (like when Anna lets Cas she’s a lesbian and he responds “Oh. Okay. Well, Dad’ll be pleased” “And the Novak kids are oh-for-three with heterosexuality, it seems”) that really made me chuckle. This was also another fic where the reveal at the end surprised and delighted me, so give it a read if you haven’t already. It’s definitely worth it.
Raiting: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Tags: Soldier!Cas, mechanic!Dean, Pining, soooooo much pining, Unrequited Love, Love Letters, Destiel – Freeform, Alternate Universe, love letters AU, Slow Burn, John Winchester’s A+ Parenting, POV Dean Winchester, Selectively Mute Dean Winchester, Depression, Mute Dean Wincheste, rMute Dean, Selectively Mute Dean Word Count: 56,344 Summary: In his head Dean understands that no one is actually leaving him, but as they pack boxes and tear down beds it sure feels that way. Sam is moving in with his fiance Jess, his best friends Cas and Benny deployed to Afghanistan, and Dean is going to live on his own for the next eight months until Cas gets back and they resume their roles as roommates. Just before they finish loading the moving truck Dean finds a long-forgotten box under Cas’s bed crammed full of handwritten letters. Most of them are from Cas’s sister Anna, but some are labeled for Dean. He can only resist reading for so long, and once he starts he can’t stop. Each letter reveals more of Cas’s perspective on their relationship over the four years they’ve known each other, and with each one Dean finds himself changing too.
Thoughts: This fic still sticks in my mind a year after I read it. It’s damn beautiful, honestly and there were whole chapters that absolutely broke my heart. I love that so much of the drama and tension were created because Dean and Cas were in different countries and that Dean’s snooping puts him in a situation where he knows more than he should but still doesn’t everything. There’s also some really great stuff in the fic with Dean dealing with depression and selective mutism. It’s a beautiful fic and it hurts to read but it hurts in a wonderful way. The fic is really centered around Dean and his understanding of the world around him. He has his own issues with depression and those come through strong in the fic without ever feeling overdone. Also, John Winchester makes an appearance and I kinda wanna punch him in the face for it. The emotions are real and palpable and I remember needing to walk the fic off at times. It’s a wonderful story and I highly suggest you read it.
Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Tags: Alternate Universe – Modern Setting, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dark Comedy, Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol as a Coping Mechanism, Explicit Sexual Content, Drunken Shenanigans, Jo Ships It, Omega Dean, Alpha Castiel, Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy EndingDean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2016 Word Count: 22,340 Summary: It should have been a night like any other night, but for Dean Winchester this evening was different. Tonight was his last on Earth. The omega finally snapped; the weight of his kills moonlighting as an assassin were too heavy to carry. So he decided to set out to numb the pain with whiskey and the white noise of whatever seedy bar he randomly ambled into. Although he’d intended to drown his sorrows alone, a bold alpha (who introduced himself as Castiel) wormed his way into his party-for-one, but more importantly: his story. After brazenly announcing that Dean’s plan to shoot himself in the head was “unoriginal,” the alpha lured him out into the bar to prove there are much more interesting and creative ways to go. A bizarre, deranged game turns into a night of passion, and leads Dean into introspective questions he never would’ve asked before. Maybe everything wasn’t as black and white as he thought, maybe there’s more to his own story that he, himself, didn’t even know. The stupid fucking alpha had transformed his world into shades of gray and made him doubt everything.
Thoughts: This fic revolves around suicide, so if that’s an issue for you I don’t suggest you read the fic. I will say, however, that the fic handles the topic with both a morbid sense of humor and a seriousness that is well balanced. The moral of the story comes through loud and clear at the end, even if a large part of the first act is spent playing a morbid sort of game. There are two twists in this fic, one of which you’ll most likely be able to pick up and one that might surprise you. The author does try to shake you off a bit regarding the second twist, but not to the point that it feels completely out of nowhere. The atmosphere of the fic is up there with some of the best I’ve read in a really long time. I can practically smell the bar when I read it and it feels both heavy and oppressive and light and easy as the fic goes on. It’s a good fic and I enjoyed it. I just wish there had been more Sam here, but it makes sense in terms of plot as to why he’s not in it.
Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Tags: Post-Series, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Road Trips, Angst, Fluff, gratuitous Led Zeppelin references, Background Sam/Eileen, ‘cause fuck you buckleming: I reject your reality and substitute my own, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, also there’s bedsharing, Human Castiel, Sam gets a dog!, this fic is completely mixtape-induced, WhumpSex Word Count: 82,450 Summary: Dean eases Baby down the frontage road, trying not to look in the rearview mirror as his home gets smaller and smaller behind him. He’s done this a hundred times. He’s driven down this road in the soft morning light, heading out to some little town in some distant corner of the country. This is a job like any other. “It’s not like we’re never coming back,” Cas says from the passenger seat. * Dean and Cas and the open road, to the tune of Led Zeppelin. A post-series story in thirteen parts.
Thoughts: This fic is a breath of fresh air after… well, you know. It’s a long fic set in canon verse that feels pretty possible. Dean and Cas continue to hunt after Sam decides he’d rather set up a headquarters in the MoL bunker, and there are several cases that Dean and Cas tackle together in the fic. Sam gets his own chapter, as well, and a girlfriend and a dog! I really like the set up for TFW post-canon in this fic. Dean and Cas get to be happy but also continue to hunt, Sam finds his niche and gets his slice of happiness, and even though Dean and Sam are apart for extended periods they’re not distant or estranged. Both brothers make their own paths and they’re happy. The cases have good pacing and deal with different issues for both Dean and Cas and panic is presented really nicely in the fic. It’s a good fic and I really enjoyed it. Also, it’s got a built-in soundtrack!
Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Tags: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Christmas Tree, Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Crack, Domestic Fluff, Winter Solstice, Witch Castiel, Witchcraft, Domestic Castiel, Fluff, Christmas Smut, Shameless Smut, Christmas Crack, Porn with Feelings, Cultural Differences, Neo-Paganism, Pagan Festivals, Pie, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Coming Out, Alternate Universe – College/University, Sam at Stanford, House Party, Gløgg Word Count: 23,287 Summary: The tree catching on fire, Dean would maintain to the end of his days, had clearly been started by the squirrels. Or outlet overload, or outdated breaker boxes; possibly a frayed extension cord, or maybe a malfunctioning string of fairy lights. Not to mention Kevin Tran. It most definitely had not been caused by him and Cas. • In which Dean drives out to Palo Alto to stay with Sam over winter break, and meets Sam’s new co-op housemates, including comparative literature PhD candidate, fundamentalist cult survivor, and practicing witch Castiel Milton—which would all be confusing enough, if Cas weren’t also unfairly gorgeous, especially in cowboy boots.
Thoughts: This is required holiday reading for me. Witch!Cas is a giant weakness for me, but especially when Cas is like he is in this. The tone of the work is fairly funny and I enjoy the way the house Cas, Sam, Kevin, and Charlie live in is portrayed. It’s a little nuts, but it makes a lot of sense given the characters living in the house. Cas is very upfront with shades of Endverse!Cas and nice to watch the way he and Dean interact. It’s a fun fic that’s also a little wacky, and it’s well worth the read. And, I pretty fair depiction of some neo-Pagan practices.
“I think that if I ever met a mermaid, I’d want to talk with them about what it feels like to fly. I’m sure their swimming is a similar comparison.”
“Cas, you know mermaids don’t exist, right?” Dean said, a smile playing on his lips and one arm resting along Castiel’s shoulders. Cas rambling on about odd subjects while they lay in bed together was not an unusual occurrence, but an endlessly amusing one for Dean.
Castiel frowned and turned his head to look at Dean.
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but I kind of come into contact with a lot creatures like that.” Dean shrugged his shoulders, gesturing at himself. “I think with all the hunters that have ever lived, one of us would have noticed if mermaids exist.”
“Not too long ago you would have said that angels didn’t exist.”
“Yeah, but -”
“And you do realize that you’re arguing with someone who has witnessed the creation of all of earth’s creatures since the beginning of time?”
“Um, I mean – I guess…”
“So, you can say with certainty – knowing that humans have only explored less than five percent of your world’s ocean – that there are absolutely no mermaids living there?”
Dean paused, snapping his mouth shut as he stared back at the angel, trying to read between the lines.
“Cas… are you implying that you know mermaids exist?”
Castiel’s amused smile faded into something more nonchalant as he sat up and stretched his arms above his head.
“I’m going to get a glass of water. Do you want anything?”
“Cas,” Dean leaned over to make a desperate grab at his arm to keep him in bed and missed, as Castiel had already stood up. “C’mon, Cas. Wait – are mermaids real??”
Castiel grinned and began putting on a robe, cinching it loosely around his waist.
The silence dragged on while Castiel walked over to the bedroom door, tugging it open and turning to glance over his shoulder agonizingly slowly.
It took a while, after the Winchesters had moved in to the Bunker, but eventually they both felt at home. Like they had a home. They had someplace to leave their things, separate spaces, more privacy than they’d ever had on the road. They started collecting more personal items; books, music, more shoes.
Quite separately, but around the same time, both Sam and Dean started collecting something else too. Dean was the first; he told Sam he was heading out for a drink, then drove himself to the tiny store he’d spotted a few weeks back. He wandered back and forth looking over the selections, pretending to be more interested in the rack of porn up front, but he finally snagged a slim silicone sleeve and a prostate massager, slapped them on the counter with a few twenties, and made his escape. He spent the evening at the bar and sneaked the bag back into his room long after Sam had gone to sleep.
The entire bag was missing the next day after breakfast. So was his bottle of lube. A heated shouting match of “don’t touch my stuff!” and “I didn’t touch your anything!” followed; Dean waited a few hours before breaking into Sam’s room. He found nothing.
Sam didn’t know, but he picked the same toy store when he went on his own trip, out ‘grocery shopping.’ One cock ring vibrator and a dildo he wasn’t sure he was brave enough to try went into the bag, into the trunk, and carefully into his room. Both items were gone after dinner; so, weirdly enough, was his brand new pair of headphones.
More shouting, more accusations that skirted around mentioning what actually went missing, and both Winchesters settled in to fume. It became sort of a competition for each of them to buy the weirdest and worst toys they could find in the hope of breaking the other. One after another, tentacle dildos and plugs and rings and clamps and lube of the worst possible flavors all went missing. The people at the toy shop got to know both Winchesters by name. Sam started ordering things online. Both of them started enlisting Castiel to help them search the Bunker from top to bottom, though that ended when they found out Cas was working for both sides.
About seven weeks into the Winchester Dildo Cold War, Castiel opened a broom closet. He’d gotten a bit turned around looking for one of the storage rooms. A pile of empty lube bottles, discarded batteries, and glass dildos lay inside, along with scraps of electronics. Dean about had an apoplectic fit when Cas walked into the kitchen with a 14-inch glass dick in his hand.
They sorted through the rubbish in the closet together, getting more confused and more frustrated with every bottle and broken toy they could identify; there was a lot missing. Both of them would have been laughing if they hadn’t been so furious at the situation.
Sam finally put it together a few days later.
“Dude.”
“What.”
“Everything that’s missing had silicone in it.”
“So… we have silicone eating fairies in the Bunker?”
“Maybe?”
“That’s just… fantastic.”
The Dildo War ended, and no matter how many times the Bunker left the Winchester’s credit cards out in plain view or manipulated Dean’s magazines so they were open on pages with new toys, they made sure not to buy silicone products for it to eat.
Dean is sixteen the first time he kisses a girl. His heart is pounding so loud he can it like a drum beat in his ears. She leans over first, planting her soft lips against his, and it takes him a moment to get with the program. His lips are slow to move, too caught up in the shock of it all to really make an impression. It’s over all too soon, and he’s left dizzy, wide-eyed and stunned as she smiles down at her hands. Her name is Robin, and she probably won’t remember him in the years that come after this, but Dean’s never going to forget her.
Dean is seventeen the first time he kisses a boy. He’s got the hang of this thing now – the whole kissing thing – that is. He’s apparently good at it, and it’s a fun time for all involved. He’s in some small town in West Texas at the time, with a guy who he met at the county fair. He’d been wandering through the animal stalls, making faces at the sheep when he spotted that slick little smile underneath the brim of a cream-colored cowboy hat. His name is Aiden, and he’s much taller than Dean. He’s slim, all lean muscle and easy smiles and Dean thinks fuck it – no one is gonna care. No one is gonna see him. He’ll be gone in a week or two anyway. They kiss after the sun sets, behind the Ferris Wheel, hidden in the shadow of the tall fence along the perimeter. Dean’s whole body shudders when Aiden licks his lips, when his palms slide across Dean’s neck and his fingers edge into the ends of Dean’s hair. He smells like sweat and leather oil, and his groans cause Dean’s hips to jerk forward eagerly. He chuckles, easing Dean like a startled animal, drawing him forward with lips and teeth until they’re both breathless and giddy. They tease each other while throwing darts and gorging on fried cheese. Dean pretends his heart doesn’t hurt when his dad wrangles him and Sam into the car the next morning.
Dean is eighteen the first time he has sex with a woman. It’s not that he hasn’t had the opportunity, it’s just… well…what if something were to happen? He always uses protection but there are no guarantees. With the kinds of work he does, he sure as hell knows that. It’s just – logically Dean knows these women will never call him. He could try to give them his number, but there is no guarantee. Still, the possibility that sometimes life happens and if he does wind up with a kid out there somewhere, he would want to at least be old enough that if he did decide to leave the life his father wouldn’t have any legal hold over him.
Still, he goes to a bar and tries his luck. He’d prefer anywhere else, really, because the whole thing makes him feel like a skeevy perv and the smell of stale smoke, spilled beer, and furniture polish bothers his nose. He gets plenty of interested looks, but he feels out of his league. It’s not like he’s never seen a naked woman before, or done a little exploring, but he’s never gone all the way. He’s not sure what these women would expect from him, but he knows he’s going to embarrass himself. After two hours, he almost gives up but then he spots her. She’s alone, sighing wistfully and running her finger along the rim of a highball glass. She’s a brunette, her frizzy hair falling all over her face. Perhaps it had been up earlier in the evening, but now it’s a little chaotic. She’s not thin or dolled up like some of the other women in the bar, but she’s wearing make-up and a nice blouse. Probably just got off work. She’s young though, can’t be more than twenty-five. He watches as she glances over to a cluster of other women, similarly dressed, chatting with a group of guys near the pool tables.
Dean saddles up into the barstool next to her and introduces himself. Her name is Loreen and she has a beautiful laugh. Her cheeks round even more when she smiles and Dean really does want to listen when she speaks. She’s clever, too, and rolls her eyes at his lame lines but seems to be interested enough because she’s still talking to him. Eventually, he asks her if she wants to leave and she bites her lip but ultimately agrees.
They go to her place. She nervous, shying away just a little when his hands shim across her exposed skin. She crosses her legs, even though she’s naked intent on keeping his attention on her lips and the sensations she draws from him with her slender fingers. But that won’t do. She’s gorgeous, and he picked her not because she seemed easiest, but because she probably didn’t have expectations. But… that thought alone makes his stomach twist. She doesn’t have expectations likely for the same reason she keeps squirming under his gaze. He wonders how many men have neglected her, neglected to tell her that she is beautiful, and there’s nothing wrong with her.
He resolves to make it better for her than it is for himself. He trails his lips across her skin, kisses and kneads her breasts, trails his fingertips up her thighs and coaxes her legs open. It feels like he spends hours taking her in; the scent of her skin, the tremble of her limbs, the soft pleasured gasps. He doesn’t pay attention to his own dick until he can taste her on the back of his tongue and she’s no longer bothered by her own nudity. He throws his head back and groans when he slips inside her. He moves slow, drawing out the feeling of her warmth around him. It’s maddening and it’s amazing, and he’s barely holding on by a thread when she warps her legs around his waist and moans into his ear. He’s never felt so completely in-tune with another person in his life.
In the morning, he leaves after she makes him waffles. He still gives her his number and thanks her for a lovely night. She kisses him on the way out the door.
Dean is twenty-three the first time he has sex with a man. It’s taken forever to get him to this point, and he’s probably still pushing it a bit. He’s terrified. His whole body is a single frayed nerve. Sex ed across America is shitty at best. He’s sat through at least six classes on the subject, and they range from “have sex and die” or “use a condom, you idiot”. Though, how to actually use that condom? His dad at least explained that part, thank whoever. But when it came to sex with a man? Well, where the hell was he supposed to figure that one out? It wasn’t like he was going to ask his dad because the man probably didn’t know and might lose his mind if Dean asked. He wasn’t going to as Pastor Jim, that’s for damn sure. No, gay sex, like ganking monsters, is something that needs to be learned in the field.
The danger though is something he’s not sure he wants. He’s pretty, that much he knows, and his thick lips and long eyelashes put him in a distinct category. He’s the one to suck dick, to get fucked, to smile sweetly and flaunt his soft skin. But it’s not him. He’s gotten smooth with women over the years, flashing smiles and buying drinks and learning how to be both smooth and non-threatening. With men, though, he chokes on his own tongue. He can never figure out the right words, can’t pretend he knows what he’s doing, can’t come off as anything other than a terrified boy, and no one seems the slightest bit interested. It’s just… the idea of being vulnerable, of surrendering to another person who could hurt him
He’s in a gay club that’s too loud and too glitzy for his own liking, and he feels like an imposter. Hell, maybe he is. He likes women enough. He doesn’t have to even try with men, really. He has other choices. Maybe he just doesn’t belong. He’s not gay, but he’s not straight either, he’s – what was that called again – bisexual? Bisexual. But maybe bisexual is just code for “man who’s too chicken shit to get fucked so he sticks to women because it’s easier”. Maybe it’s code of “man who can’t choose while everyone else has to”.
Dean almost doesn’t notice when a new guy slides into the seat next to him. He’s big, not really buff, but not chubby either. He’s got a beard and he’s in jeans and an honest to god normal t-shirt, not the sheer fabric and pleather that populates the dance floor. He smiles, introduces himself as David, and asks if Dean’s waiting for anyone.
They make small talk, but David seems nice. He hasn’t mentioned Dean’s eyes or Dean’s lips, or Dean’s physique at all and Dean finds himself relaxing. He makes up a story about traveling for work and David buys it. He’s soft spoken and doesn’t push Dean to dance. They laugh, they drink, and when David asks if he wants to leave Dean agrees but insists on a motel.
David doesn’t ask any questions, he just kisses Dean and guides him through the doorway with a gentle hand on his hip. Dean’s hands shake when they strip each other, but David doesn’t seem to mind. He lets Dean set the pace before settling them down on the bed. He’s warm and solid against Dean’s body, covering him completely but not smothering. Dean allows himself to clutch at the back of David’s neck as the grind together.
He gasps and nearly shoots up the bed when David takes his cock into his mouth. Dean’s had blow jobs before, but never from another man. It’s not unfamiliar, though the scratch of coarse beard hair against his thighs is new. Dean whimpers when a finger circles lower, and clamps his legs shut involuntarily. For a moment, he’s certain he’s screwed it up and that’s the end, but David soothes him and clucks his tongue. They kiss and Dean gets lost in the feeling of lips across his neck and chest. He’s surprised when David gathers them both in a single hand and thrusts his hips. The slick, velvet heat of the two of them is incredible, especially combined with David’s gentle encouragements breathed into his neck. He losses it with his fists balled against a solid, muscular back.
David explains how sex with men works. Dean’s too timid to try it though, so when they’re both ready for another round Dean tries what David before. It’s not awkward, though Dean does need a little instruction, he doesn’t make Dean feel stupid or inept. When they part at check-in, David pulls him into a bruising hug and wishes him well, and Dean blushes and stammers his way through a goodbye and a thank you.
WHAAAAAAAT YOU COME INTO MY HOUSE TO SHOW ME THIS (this expression is so weird) Let me had some little things because there is SO MUCH!
IMAGINE THIS AU!!!
Meg and Cas are a killer duo renowned all over the world! They are legends! Everyone knows that when you see the Hellcat’s red pin-up and the Spitfire’s blue feather flying in the sky you’re doomed. Because it’s the sign they are coming. “Angels of Death”, they’ve been called sometimes.
Meg finds that amusing because everyone knows she’s far from being an angel. She’s ruthless and the pinup on her plane is her demoness. Some even say she’s painted with the blood of the men who tried to hurt her.
Cas looks like the most sane but when he flies he only has his mission in mind and nobody would ever dare stand in his way. He strikes faster than lighting and does crazy things in the air that makes everyone think he must be God’s favourite.
Together nothing can stop them, it’s as if they were invincible and everyone knows she’s a lesbian and he’s gay but they’d be fools in the army not to overlook that. They have a success rate never seen in any missions for fighters pilots like them.
So it’s only logical that when the mission of Dean Winchester, spy for the US, goes awry, they are sent to get him.
He’s the most talented spy of his generation but going closer to Alistair to get the best intel was a mistake and after years of doing the monster’s every whims he manages to run away with the most important informations. He knows his chances to get out alive are so very slim and he already regrets leaving Sam to save the country… but upon seeing the infamous planes along the beach he holds a breath. Could it be…?
Yes, it is the hellcat and the spitfire.
Dean cries when he see them on the beach and he certainly don’t mind when Cas takes him closer to cover him with a blanket.
“You saved your country, pretty boy” Meg drawled, “Good job.”
He’s happy, but the rough voice of Cas in the radio is what makes him overjoyed.
“Dean Winchester has been saved.”
On the way back he makes the two pilots promise to teach his little brother to fly like them, still in training. And if Cas mentions it’ll be the occasion to see each other more often, well, Dean won’t say no.
Meg and Cas train Sam so well he becomes the youngest fighter pilot ever. Nicknamed the Boyking of the skies, Sam is the first to come up with a name for the four of them.
Dean Winchester is funny, gorgeous, brave, loyal, and a breath of fresh air in Castiel Shurley’s life. Dean Winchester is also a ghost haunting Castiel’s school, but nobody’s perfect, right?
the boy king’s demons aren’t allowed to close deals with underage kids anymore, but that doesn’t mean kids aren’t still trying. the demons never show, but within a week of a teenager burying a Altoids tin of graveyard dirt at a crossroads, the kid’s problems always disappear under mysterious and inexplicable circumstances
A summoned demon could appear anywhere in the vicinity of the crossroads, so Sam made sure to stay behind a tree, obscured from the sight of this kid. Sam noticed he was rather small, his shape obscured by the baggy, oversized clothes he wore. His hair just fell past his ears in uneven cuts, and his hands endlessly trembled and fidgeted together.
“Come on!” The kid cried out. “Just show yourself, please!” No matter how much this kid pleaded, Sam couldn’t negotiate with him. He refused to allow children to offer their souls to demons. It was only this time that Sam even bothered showing up at the crossroads in the first place.
“We don’t have enough money to last us until next year-..” the kid trailed off, hesitantly stepping back. “We could get enough money, a-and then have one less mouth to feed.” Sam almost felt something in the last working corner of his heart. God damn these kids and their willingness to sacrifice themselves. No wonder he forbid deals with them.
Sam rubbed his chin slowly, deep in thought. He wouldn’t let this selfless kid throw himself to the hounds for the sake of his family. He didn’t deserve it. And he didn’t deserve to have to struggle to get by with his family, either.
There was extreme irony in calling it a blessing. Angels never thought of rewarding resilient souls for their troubles, and demons never felt like offering their services for free. But if God was going to turn a blind eye to the Kennedy family in their time of need, then Sam would provide the intervention they deserved, whether it be divine or not.
This is Not a Blog 