So I wrote this last night in response to this. Dean’s trying to take “Jimmy” in on charges of prostitution, but Castiel has other ideas.

I’m not sure I like it all that much, but I’m going to share it anyway. Some times people like things I think are crap and vice verse.

I don’t even have a title for it, so if anyone wants to make a suggestion…

~1.3k, NC17/R depending on where you draw the line.

No one answers the door when he knocks. “Jimmy” must be out. Dean sighs. They had gotten a tip about a man named Jimmy with crazy black hair and sharp blue eyes living at this address, working as a prostitute. It’s a pretty nice apartment complex for a hooker, but maybe the guy is just that good.

He’s deciding on whether to come back later or wait in the car for a bit as he leaves the building, and so he almost misses the guy in question.

“Jimmy?” Dean asks. Jimmy stops abruptly just in front of him on the sidewalk.

“Yes?” comes the deep gravel back. Dean can only imagine how his voice got like that, and what he imagines makes his cock stir rather inappropriately.

“Detective Dean Winchester,” Dean finally says, trying to ignore his dick and flipping out his badge. “I’m going to have to take you in on charges of prostitution.”

The man’s eyes flash, and he says rather shortly, “Is that so.”

“Yeah. Though I have to say, if you are a hooker, you are, without a doubt, the worst one I’ve ever seen,” Dean says, beginning to wonder if their tipster was falsifying his claims. “How in the world do you pick up anyone wearing a suit and trench coat?”

Jimmy snorts. “Because I am not a hooker. I’m an escort. A legal escort, with a high class clientele that would not be happy if they found out I was taken in for prostitution.”

Dean believes the guy. He’s not sure why. The suit and the nice apartment complex corroborate his story, but Dean’s pretty sure the blue eyes might be more to blame. Still… “Look man, I believe you, and I’m sorry, but I really should take you down to the station. Make an official report…” His voice trails off as his eyes wander over Jimmy’s body, starting with the dark, luscious sex hair on top, hovering over the flat chest partially concealed by the coat and jacket. He wants to see more.  No wonder this guy makes good money. He can see why people would pay simply to have him nearby to ogle over.

“Is there any other agreement we could come to?” Jimmy asks, daring to step closer, sensing an opening. He really can’t go to jail, it would destroy his career, and Dean’s still staring at his chest. Dean, almost unaware of himself, brings a hand up runs his fingers along the lapel of trench coat. His voice deep and low, Jimmy adds, “A more pleasurable way of resolving this situation, perhaps?”

Dean flips both the coat and jacket open. He simply stares for a moment before he swallows hard. “Perhaps.”

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Rating: R
Word Count: ~1,700
Summary: Castiel has scars on his back. Scars that he wants to keep private. That was the plan anyway.

This is an end!verse fic, written for a prompt from ladyofthesilent.

My other half, Carrie, beta’ed and deserves full credit for the perfect title. Mine sucked.

Castiel can hear them whispering.

Not that they are being overly subtle about it.

It’s a mystery, and humans apparently love a mystery. They can’t help it. Even now, at the end of the world, or perhaps because it’s the end of the world, they are fixated on the mystery that is Castiel. Oh, the camp got over him being an angel, fallen or not, pretty quickly. See your friends turn into zombies or get beaten and raped by a demon and you learn to take anything in stride. No, the part that has them hooked is that he never takes his shirt off.

Once people started catching on, once the men and women he’d slept with started exchanging stories, it became obvious that no one had ever seen him take it off. Which is a mystery, because it’s hard to find him with his pants on.

They’re right, of course. He is hiding something. Castiel has fallen, and though he’s doing things his past self would likely not even believe him capable of (drugs, booze, sex) there’s only one thing he’s ashamed of.

The scars on his back.

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“I can’t believe you bought us a house without checking it out first! This is nightmare!”

“The real estate agent lied to me,” Cas replies with venom as a light bulb explodes.

…

“Wanna do it on the floor?”

“Yes.”

Written for Dorian, because I owed her.

I was sitting around wondering why on Earth I promised porn when I don’t have the time, and then this happened. Dean and Cas have the same problem.

Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~2000
Warnings/spoilers: Very light bondage, rimming. No spoilers, I kept it general. 100% PWP.

(Comments are lovely, btw. Good or bad.)

“Cas! Fuck, Cas!” Dean screams as Castiel’s tongue plunders his hole. “Damn it, we don’t have time for that, we have too much work-“

Dean is cut off when a hand slams over his mouth and his vision is suddenly filled with piercing blue eyes, Cas staring down at him. “Dean. Shut. Up. We will never have time, there will always be work, there will always be something to do. I’m tired of quick hand jobs in an alley. Right now, I’m going to fuck you stupid. I’m going to fuck you until you forget about the case, until you forget about Sam waiting at the library. I’m going to make you scream and beg and come so hard you’ll pass out. Now are you onboard with this plan or do I need to tie you down?”

Dean’s eyes widen. He wraps a hand around Castiel’s wrist and tugs lightly. Cas isn’t even remotely fazed by it, and somehow that shoots a bolt of pleasure to Dean’s groin. Cas waits another second –just to make sure his point gets through- before removing his hand.

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Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Characters: Misha/Jensen, Misha/Jensen/Jared
Genre: pwp
Word Count: ~3100
Warnings: voyuerism, dirty talk, hair pulling, spanking, threesome, use of toys (handcuffs) deep throating, delayed orgasm, double penetration, slight power play,
Summary: Written for Dorian’s Xmas Porn Exchange. Prompt from ashmeaboutit:

I would like some Jared/Jensen/Misha. Something along the lines of Jared being in love with Jensen, and finding out he’s with Misha and being all sad puppy. Then maybe finding them sexing it up and talking about what they’d be doing if he were there with them. He confronts them and dirty hot porn ensues. As kinky as you’d like. :) Cept scat, watersports, and torture. Please do this, lol. I’ve fallen in love with this porny threesome.

Notes: I feel dirty. I apologize to Misha, Jensen, and Jared. I tried to keep them in character, but it’s hard when you get this porny. I hope this is satisfactory.

This will be up on LJ and tumblr.

Jared had been looking forward to Football Sunday at Jensen’s all week. He was finally going to make his move. He’d been in love with Jensen since the first day Kripke had them read lines together and they secured themselves the roles of Sam and Dean. There was a reason they had intense chemistry on screen- it was there in real life too. Jensen was Jared’s everything, and after years of sitting on his ass about it, he’s decided it’s damn well time to do something more than moon over him from a distance. It’s time to let go of the fear of ruining their friendship. It’s time.

Of course, he’s said that every day for the last six years, but those don’t matter. He was going to go for it this Sunday, after Misha had left.

No really, he was.

Turns out fate had other plans.

His six pack was tucked tightly under his arm and he was reaching for the door knob (because he hasn’t had to knock at Jensen’s house for 6 years now) when a moan that could make porn stars blush reached his ears and he froze in place. Maybe he’d heard wrong?

After the second moan he decided he definitely didn’t hear wrong.

Maybe he got the date wrong? Maybe it’s not Sunday after all? More importantly, maybe he’s at the wrong house?

“Misha,” Jared hears faintly through the door, the ‘I’ drawn out and unmistakably in Jensen’s voice, “Mish…oh, oh fuck. Mish, Jared’s going to be here any, ah, any second.” It’s punctuated by another deep moan that Jared doesn’t hear the end of. He’s back in his car and driving away before it finishes.

Consequently, he doesn’t hear Misha’s reponse of, “Fuck, Jen, he can join,” nor Jensen’s cry as he comes at the thought.

~

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Like I said, it’s relatively short (2k), and there’s no porn, but I was inspired by the idea of Cas still being in the lake and unable to get to Dean, who believes him to be dead. So I rolled with it.

Many, many thanks to holyleviastiel for giving this a proofread. She was an awesome beta and helped me see my writing in a new way. Which I hope to incorporate better on my next fic.

Spoilers for 7.02, obviously.

Castiel is in hell.

Not literally, of course. Though he thinks that might be preferable.

Dean is praying to him and there’s nothing he can do about it. Dean believes him to be dead and there’s nothing he can do about it. The leviathans that he unwittingly brought into the world are killing people and there’s nothing he can do about it.

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One day I will learn how not to write shitty fic titles.

So I wrote porn. Because apparently it’s my strong point in writing. I might be a bit bitter about that, but hey, you all don’t seem to mind.

I’m posting this in the middle of doing a ton of homework, so I apologize if this isn’t as edited as usual for me.

Pairing: Dean/Cas (Bottom!Dean, Top!Cas)
Rating: NC17
Length: ~1400 words
Warnings: Porn. No plot. Slight power play. Use of a toy. Delayed orgasm. Rimming. A little biting.

Summary: Porn. No plot.

Cas has a problem.

He and Dean have a very, VERY functional sexual relationship that they both enjoy very much. It’s hot, and everything they both had ever dared hope for.

But that’s not the problem. The problem is that Cas has the “stamina of a Greek god.”  Dean always comes first, even after holding back as long as possible. Which ends in some pretty intense orgasms, but he still comes first, and usually a good half an hour before Cas. The result is that Dean is unusually sore, tired, and pushing bored. He almost fell asleep once, eliciting a sharp bite to his shoulder that Cas “lovingly” placed.

Cas tried to consult Sam about this problem, but he barely made it beyond, “When Dean and I have sex-“ before Sam was sticking his fingers in his ears screaming, “lalalalala.”

So he ended up on the internet. And he found quite a few useful suggestions, but one in particular caught his eye.

~~

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I’m supposed to be going to bed, but I saw this picture in my blog and suddenly had to write to it, even though this is nothing original.

Mostly, Cas hates being human.

And why wouldn’t he? As an angel, he had so very little to worry about. He could clean himself and repair himself in a snap, he could smite anything that got too close to him, which, nothing ever got close to him because he could sense those things, and he could search entire towns in the blink of an eye.

Now he has to shave. How mundane.

But there are times when he doesn’t mind being human.

Angels, you see, don’t have to sleep. As a human now, he has to sleep. Cas doesn’t much care for sleeping in general. It’s such a waste of time, and he hates having to repeat it every day.

But then he wakes up.

And Dean is cocooned around him, warmth and protection and love (though Dean avoids using the word) soaking into his skin from where Dean’s chest is pressed to his back, where is arm is around his waist. And Dean peppers kisses to his shoulder as strong calloused hands slip beneath the edge of his pajama bottoms.

When he comes, Cas thinks it is nothing short of divine.

And he decides he doesn’t always hate being human.

So apparently I write depressing things at one in the morning.

I’m so very, very sorry.

Spoilers for season 7, so under a read more, but it’s fairly short.

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I know, it’s a horribly uninspired title.

The prompt for this is over here. Dorian is a Goddess at coming up with awesome story ideas, and I strive really hard to write the story she wants. I felt like the first one went over really well, so I hope this one doesn’t disappoint.

Summary: Summer vacations suck, and Cas seems bent on making it awkward for Dean.

Pairing: Dean/Cas
Rating: NC-17
Length: ~4,500
Warnings: There is an age gap here that I suppose technically makes the sex illegal. Dean is 16, Cas is 21.
Other kinks: rimming, denied (delayed) orgasm, use of cock ring, handcuffs, and gag. Deep throating. Did I forget any? I usually forget one…

Dean wakes up and has the room he’s sharing with Castiel and Sam all to himself. He can hear Sam and Anna laughing outside and the steady rumble of Castiel’s voice is laced with it. This registers on one important level to Dean: it means he doesn’t have to sneak to the bathroom to take care of his morning wood. He can take his time and do it the way he likes, with his legs spread, knees slightly bent, and a finger in his ass. It’s fantastic. Probably the only part of the entire trip he’s enjoyed. If only his family would let him stay inside the cabin all day, masturbating his brains out, cycling fantasies of busty cheerleaders, with the football players and their tight asses, with all of them at once. But the family won’t let him stay inside long. Something about bonding.

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Written for this prompt, for the lovely destielmybeatingheart

Pairing: Dean/Cas, AU
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~3000 
Warnings/Kinks: Dirty talk, rimming, barebacking, wanton!Dean, dom-y!Cas

This is a PWP, heavy on the porn part. As in, I feel dirty, and it was hard to shut my filter back down for things you generally aren’t supposed to say out loud.

Also, I apologize for my obvious lack of knowledge regarding firefighters and fighting fires. I hope any problems do not distract much.

Stupid bloody frickin English professors and their goddamn book obsessions. Dean is absolutely positive he will strangle this Castiel Novak when he finds him in this inferno.

They thought they were done, just needing to wash the blaze out, when a timid student walked up to him and told him that she thought Castiel Novak was still inside. He likes to read in the afternoons, in preparation for his evening class, and has a tendency to nod off. And she doesn’t see him outside.

Goddamn English professors and their stupid second floor offices.

The smoke up here is thick now. The fire is still pretty far away, but the smoke is building much faster. Dean’s equipment only goes so far. If he can’t find this guy soon, he’ll have to give up. Dean does NOT like giving up.

Stupid frickin nerds.

Just as he’s about to call it a wash, a man with crazy black hair flies extremely ungracefully out of a door a few feet away. He’s coughing terribly and looks extremely panicked. His eyes light on Dean and fill quickly with hope just before his eyes roll up and he passes out.

Stupid goddamn English teachers who need oxygen. Stupid, but hot, English professors.

Dean throws the man over his shoulder, noting that the dude’s suit was definitely hiding how slim he is. He rushes out of the building, smoke billowing behind him, to cheers from the students that had gathered. Everyone loves a show, and Dean doesn’t really mind being a hero. Even if this wasn’t so much about heroics, considering the guy practically fell on him.

Dean doesn’t dwell on that though as the ambulance rushes the poor guy to the hospital.  He pushes the wild haired, slim, blue eyed man to the side and focuses on joining his comrades in actually putting the fire out.

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I’m still not happy with this, AT ALL, but I don’t want to flake on this contest, and I’m trying to be as little late as possible, and I had thought it was due tomorrow for some reason. This is truthfully too long for a tumblr post, but anywhere else would take too long to get up.

A HUGE thanks to castielsmitesyou for holding my hand and giving this a read, a long time ago, before I went through about 245091 more versions of this.

Set post season 6

Length: ~4,450

Rated: NC-17

The word “broken” is an odd one to angels.

Things don’t break in heaven. Sure, things break in memories all the time, but nothing actually breaks in heaven.  Since the only objects are parts of memories, and the people are mostly on replay, not much changes, and not much actually breaks.

Earth is a different story. It is a cacophony of breakage. Cars, tv’s, bones, the country, the economy, individuals, relationships, windows, glasses, and virtually every object ever invented can and has broken. Sometimes they can be fixed. Like when the Impala broke down and Dean tore his hair out for 3 days trying to figure out why. But he fixed it and the Impala drove on. Or when Sam broke his arm and it healed unbearably slow in a plastered cast.

But some things are harder to fix.

Dean believes himself to be “broken.” Castiel has known this since the first time he laid his borrowed human eyes on the man. Castiel has never been able to fix Dean. He never even knew where to begin. Because knowing and understanding, it turns out, are two very different things.

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DO YOU NEED SOME SCHMOOP IN YOUR DAY?

Well, I apparently did. I had about one hour of free time today and what did I do with it? I wrote fluff. This is set post Season 6 finale.

This could be considered pre-slash.

It took Dean about 10 feet to notice that the ex-angel was no longer by his side.

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All of this porn from that new blog, pornstarswholooklikethecastofspn, I feel now is a good time to share this little bit of porn with poor dialogue wrapped around it.

Title: Pushing the Line
Rated: NC-17
THIS IS RPS. Cracky RPS, but still.
Misha/Jensen/Jared, ending up more Misha/Jensen. Misha, if you find this, I’m so sorry. Unless you like it. And then you’re welcome.

ALSO, I think this would make some awesome art. Any takers? No? Okay.

Misha’s running some lines with Jensen in his trailer when Jared knocks on the door.

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