Tag: DeanCas Big Bang 2017

deancasbigbang:

Title: Between the Folds of Submission
Author:  destimushi
Artist: purzelndesbaeumchen
Rating: E (Explicit)
Length: 45,273
Pairings: Dean Winchester/Castiel Novak
Warnings: serial killer case, D/S biology, Dominant Dean, Submissive Cas, suspense, kidnapping, subspace, hand-feeding, spanking, facial

Summary: Castiel Novak, the city’s only Submissive homicide detective, balances navigating a career believed to be a Dominant’s domain and keeping his physical needs in check. When another team drops the ball and a series of gruesome murders lands in Castiel’s lap, it’s simply another day on the job. 

Only this isn’t like any case Castiel has ever worked. Collecting clues and running leads gets him nowhere, until the day he receives a phone call from Dean Winchester, Editor-in-Chief of the popular magazine Cruisin’ Classics. It’s a phone call that has the power to blow the case wide open. 

Castiel races against the clock as the killer ups the ante, but Dean—rich, drop-dead gorgeous, and a famously unconventional Dominant to boot—proves to be a distraction he can’t afford. As the danger grows, Castiel finds himself torn between upholding his beliefs and giving in to his desires. Can he resist his urges long enough to find the killer, or will his biology consume him?

Read on AO3
Check out the art on Tumblr [NSFW]

YOU ALL NEED TO CHECK THIS FIC OUT! THE writer is amazing and a friend of mine and serious this is one that will keep you on the edge of your seat the whole way through! 

deancasbigbang:

Title: Moonshadow
Author: beecoveredcas
Artist: usarechan
Rating: Explicit
Pairings:

Dean/Cas

Warnings/Tags: Violence, death, happy ending, alternate universes, soldiers Dean and Cas, It’s a Terrible Life ‘verse, children Dean and Cas, demon!Dean, leviathan!Cas, happy ending, fluff and smut
Posting Date: 11/23/2017

Summary:  It was supposed to be an easy case.

Gross, but easy–they were just hunting a witch, after all.

It turns out to be anything but. Thanks to the witch trying to teach Dean a lesson, a straightforward hunt turns into a trip through torturous realities, where Dean gets a taste of what he won’t admit he wants most–Cas. No matter what he does, Dean is trapped in a loop of losing his angel–his friend–each ending crueler than the last. Dean waits for the nightmare to end, but the witch seems to enjoy watching him fall apart over and over.

Maybe there’s no waking up from this.

– – –

She’s waiting for him in the parking garage. As soon as he rounds the corner to his car and sees that stupid red and white gingham, (a dress this time, with a blazer, she thinks she’s clever) he hurls his briefcase to the floor.

“You fucking bitch!” he shouts, voice echoing; there’s no one else down there, just him and the woman who put him in this universe in the first place. “I’ve learned my lesson, okay? Point made, problem solved, now put me back.” She laughs, turning to face him.

“You think it’s so easy?” she says. “Oh, no. No, just because you get all weepy, doesn’t mean you get to go home.”

“Why are you doing this?” Dean demands. “What, daddy not hug you enough as a kid? Is that it? Somebody break your heart, too?”

Too.

“If you try and stir up trouble,” she says, instead of answering, “like you did yesterday, with Cas, I will make things much, much worse for you. Just play your part like a good little boy and we won’t have any problems.” Dean glares at her.

“Oh, we’ve already got problems, lady,” he grinds out, storming over to her, but as soon as she’s in swinging distance he’s got another face full of that goddamn powder and it’s back to sleep for him.

~~~

“…Did it take long to find me? I asked the faithful light.” The voice hovers through the beaded curtain Dean wakes up across from, in a little house surrounded what looks like a forest. “Did it take long to find me? And are you gonna stay the night?” It’s gravel-low and coarse, but sweet and soothing; Dean would know it anywhere.

“Cas,” he says from the bed he’s lying on, nothing more than a mattress on a floor. The singing pauses, and Cas pokes a shaggy-haired head around the corner.

“Hey, goodlookin’,” he grins. “Have you been enjoying the music?” Dean sits up, his head thudding.

“Yeah,” he agrees, grudgingly following the witch’s advice. “What’cha doin’?”

“Cooking,” Cas says from the next room. “Toast and powdered eggs. Breakfast of champions.”

Dean stands, meanders in to join him. Cas is wearing light-looking, loose, yellow pants and a Wham! t-shirt Dean recognises as his, his dark beard thick and unkempt; he walks over to him, sets a hand on his chest, kisses Dean chastely on the lips.

deancasbigbang:

Title: You’re the Worst
Author: fanforfanatic
Artist: sevenspirals
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Dean/Cas
Warnings/Tags: asshole!cas, nature and art lover Cas, hardworker!dean, book lover Dean, D/s undertones, recreational use of drugs, high!sex, a lot of not high sex too, Cas paints and draws Dean, Dean is lonely.
Posting Date: 11/16/2017

Summary: After Gabriel Milton, co-owner of Word Mil Publishing, goes into early retirement, Dean becomes Castiel Novak’s new editor. The author is brilliant, immensely talented and a grade-A asshole. But what he’s best at is getting under Dean’s skin, and into Dean’s pants. It’s why their professional relationship warps into something sexual Dean enjoys more than he knows he should.

When it seems less and less likely that Cas will ever put effort into his next manuscript, Dean strikes a deal that forces them to reveal more of themselves.

Dean has a pure love for storytelling. Castiel likes making fun of his readers. Dean believes in hard work. Castiel believes in instant gratification. Maybe they could try to meet in the middle, but for now, when Cas asks him to drop to his knees, Dean does.

– – –

“What the hell is this?” Dean half shouts (he has given up on full shouting) and slams down a stack of papers held together at the corner by a single metal ring. It joins the rest of the clutter already littering the desk

Cas is leaning back in his large, equally pretentious, wooden rolling chair (the only piece of furniture he did buy) with his head hanging off the back, the long line of his neck on display. He remains that way, unmoving save for the strong hands toying with the drawstring of his open hoodie, not bothering to look at Dean. Not just yet, anyway.

“It’s the first chapter.”

When they first met, Dean might have confused Cas’ tone as matter-of-fact, but he’s spent enough time with the infuriating and brilliant writer that he can detect the patronizing note.

“First chapter of what? This is not what you’re being paid to write. This is not the book you pitched us.”

“It’s not the book my agent pitched,” Cas amends nonchalantly, but it’s not a concession at all.

“Hey!” Dean three-quarter shouts instead of staring at Cas’ fingers tightly coiling and uncoiling string around them with fluid and sure motions that— “Is there something more fascinating happening on the stucco?” He hasn’t been here more than a minute and Cas is already under his skin. The man might have taken up residency there. Aloof, and haughty, and gorgeous. “This,” Dean gestures wildly at the manuscript. “is unacceptable.”

Cas lifts his head languidly, but there is nothing casual about the way he looks at Dean. It’s enough to set him on fire, like some kind of sick Pavlovian effect, and the drag of Cas’ eyes against his skin is the lighting of a match.

“If it’s unacceptable, then it’s unacceptable. Go ahead and drop me.”

Dean takes what is meant to be a stabilising breath, but he doesn’t bank on it working. Not with Cas looking fucking smug like he’s some sort of king in his dumb rolling chair, fully aware that he holds all the cards. All the power over Dean.

“You know I can’t do that,” Dean says on the exhale.

“I know,” Cas says. “I’ve started something new.” He drums his long fingers once, sharply, irritatingly, against a stack of papers that look freshly printed. God forbid Cas use technology to its full benefit, and give Dean an online copy.

“You have new pages about something completely different again.” Dean tosses his hands up. “Of course you do.”

“Come here, Dean,” Cas says and Dean stills, taken off guard and wary. He realises how far away from the desk his pacing has taken him. He’s always safer when there’s distance between him and Cas. Space. Room to breathe. “Come here and bend over these new pages so I can fuck you on them.”

ANOTHER GOOD FIC BY ANOTHER ABSOLUTELY AMAZING PERSON. Her words are so good and inspire me to keep writing! She is also a kick ass beta and person and you will love this fic! Give it a read!!! @fanforfanatic

deancasbigbang:

Title: Closing Time
Author: Casloveshisfreckles
Artist: keylimedean
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Dean/Cas
Warnings/Tags: Brewer!Dean, Professor!Cas, Dean has tattoos and a beard, College Roommates to Lovers, Sam ships it, Music is their love language, Be prepared to hate Aaron, Ellen and Bobby raised the Winchesters, College baseball player Dean, Public declarations of love
Posting Date: 11/9/2017

Summary:  Dean Winchester’s college years felt like the greatest of his life: School came easy, he was the starting first baseman for the KU Jayhawks and he was in love with the smartest, nerdiest, hottest guy in school, who also happened to be his roommate. They were the definition of Relationship Goals. Until they weren’t. Until Cas left.

If you asked Castiel Novak why he was back in Lawrence after 10 years, he’d tell you it was because of a great job opportunity. If you knew Castiel, you’d know it was because of Dean Winchester.  But Dean had moved on, successfully running his bar, brewing his own beer, tattooed and still the most gorgeous man Castiel had ever laid eyes on. Oh and? He was taken.

Dean wants to, but forgiving Cas isn’t easy, and finding their way back to each other after all this time is like searching for a hand in the dark.  Sometimes, ten years is ten years too late.

– – –

There it was again, we. Castiel felt sick, thinking of his Dean with this guy. He admonished himself; Dean wasn’t his and hadn’t been for a long time. And now, there was Aaron, comfortable in a place Castiel used to stand, a place that used to feel like home. Castiel was ready to leave.

“You should definitely come back next week. Like I said, we’re revealing the whole line of beers on Friday. Catch our Open Mic night too.” Aaron hadn’t lost his enthusiasm for a minute. It was getting exhausting.

“Yeah, I’ll think about it, thanks. Tell your, uh, boss that the beer is good. Is he here tonight?” Castiel hoped he sounded casual.

“Nah, man. Dean teaches guitar lessons down at the Y on Wednesday nights, but you can come back next Friday and tell him yourself. He’ll be glad to hear it. Plus, if you’re going to be living around here, you should meet him and our wayward family. We’ve got quite a group of regulars around here.”

We we we. Every single we was like a punch to Castiel’s gut. He ached, thinking of all he had lost just within these walls alone. Castiel was a part of that family, long before Aaron. A real family that chose him, not one that was forced to put up with him, one that made sure he knew how much he disappointed them still, despite everything he had given up to try and please them.

Castiel needed to get the fuck out of there.

He dropped a ten on the bar and quickly turned toward the exit. Aaron called out a good night, but he just put his head down and walked faster. He felt like a fool for being upset, for feeling jealous over something he should have seen coming and he clenched his fists to keep them from shaking. Castiel climbed into his truck and started it up, peeling out of the parking lot before he lost it right then and there. He  kept it together until he pulled into his new driveway and only then did he fall apart, the tears he was desperately trying to stop streaming down his face.

It was stupid coming back to Lawrence. It was really stupid going to The Roadhouse knowing Dean wasn’t there and spying on his life. Castiel felt like a fool. Dean had moved on, he had Aaron now. He didn’t need Castiel and his fucked up priorities, his callous decision making, and his lifelong track record of selfishness. Dean deserved better than what Castiel could offer.

THIS IS MY FRIENDS FIC AND IT IS TO DIE FOR! ALL OF YOU SHOULD READ THIS FIC AND SHOWER MY GIRL @casloveshisfreckles WITH THE LOVE AND PRAISE SHE DESERVES FOR THIS

deancasbigbang:

Title: Gods in the Chrysalis
Author: JhanaMay
Artist: violue
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Dean/Cas
Warnings/Tags: Endverse Castiel, Musician Castiel, traumatic brain injury
Posting Date: 11/7/2017

Summary:  Olympic hopeful Dean Winchester has always felt more at home in the water than he did on land. Pressured by his father to carry on his mother’s dream, Dean’s entire life has revolved around swimming and competing. Everything changes when he sustains a head injury in an accident at the pool and is left unable to swim. The fear of disappointing everyone in his life is heightened when he realizes his love of the water has been replaced by a strange talent for playing the piano. With the help of Castiel, the high-school dropout/weekend musician who runs a local music store, Dean learns to question everything he thought he knew about himself, his family, and his life. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the butterfly calls just the beginning.

– – –

Dean opens his eyes, and blinks, registering for the first time the damp tear tracks streaked down his face. He doesn’t know how long he’s been crying, but his sinuses ache enough to tell him it’s been a while. Reaching up to scrub the wetness away, Dean turns to face the person behind him.

The man from the behind the counter stands a few feet away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his black skinny jeans. Dean hadn’t noticed before, but he’s wearing a pale blue t-shirt with a colorful pony on the front, the words Rainbow Dash in glitter below it. Intricate designs—musical notation shot through with dark green vines and bright splashes of flowers—wind their way up both arms and disappear into his shirt sleeves. A single musical note drips from the right corner of his bright blue eyes and two silver balls frame the outer edge of his left eyebrow.

The man rocks back on his heels and clears his throat. “Holy fuck,” he says, his voice a deep, rolling timbre. “I’m glad Raph listened when I told him not to get rid of that piano.”

He steps forward and Dean shifts back, pressing himself against the keys and wincing at the discordant sound. “Sorry, I, ah, I saw it and—”

“Don’t apologize. We don’t get classically trained pianists in here, like, ever. That was fucking beautiful.” He pulls one hand out of his pocket and tugs at the hem of the too-small t-shirt where it’s pulling up, revealing a sliver of skin at his hip.

Dean follows the long fingers with his eyes. Piano keys cover the back of his hand, tattooed across his knuckles and down to the first joint. “I’m not—” Dean stands up, knocking the bench back against the piano, and edges away from the man. “I should go.”

“You don’t have to go. I’m Castiel,” the guy says, holding out his hand. “Where’d you study? Not K.U., not playing Satie like that. Tell me you didn’t go to Juilliard.”

Dean studies the man’s outstretched hand, then looks back up at his face. Dark stubble dusts his strong jawline, and Dean’s mouth goes dry. Despite the tattoos and the piercings and the fucking god-awful abomination of a t-shirt, he’s gorgeous, and Dean can’t breathe. He can’t breathe and he’s going to pass out and he doesn’t even know where the hell he is or how he got here. Sucking in a rasping gasp of air, he stumbles backward. He can’t do this, not with the song echoing in his head and his hands twitching to play it again. “I can’t,” he forces out, shoving past the man. “I’m sorry; I have to go. I’m sorry.” He rushes to the door and out into the bright afternoon sun.

deancasbigbang:

Title: Walk Through Fire At My Side
Author: Areiton
Artist: iouii
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Dean/Cas
Warnings/Tags: canon typical violence, war, minor character death, era typical slavery, imprisonment, hurt/comfort, pining, miscommunication, John is the actual worst, dead Lucifer
Posting Date: 11/1/2017

Summary:  Castiel was sent to Hadrian’s Wall as punishment, cut off from Rome and his powerful family. He intends to do his time, before he returns to a girl who loves him and a family he misses.

He doesn’t expect Sam, a wild mystic who rescues him, or his gruff and overprotective brother Dean, as violent and threatening as he is kind.
Dean doesn’t think he can tolerate a Roman, a Legate, not after his history in the arena. But Sam’s visions say that together, they’re safe, and Dean’s trusted those for longer than he can remember. 

As hostilities between their people increase and both are pressed into fighting a war they don’t believe in, Dean and Castiel are pulled apart by duty and family expectations. Balanced between an empire and a new world, Castiel and two brothers will fight for peace and a fragile chance at love.

– – –

He wakes first, and for a few moments, lays still, assessing the pain in his side, the low throb in his shoulder. He rolls it slightly, testing and appraising the stiffness.

It’s manageable. Not quite as sedate as he would prefer, but manageable.

He should leave.

Go back to Wall.

Gabriel will be furious and on edge–he was a little surprised that his impetuous brother had not started a war already, that no one had been sent over the Wall for him yet.

But then, maybe someone had.

And yet.

His head rolls to the side, and he sees Dean, sleeping close enough to touch.

He looks soft, gentle, his eyelashes twitching against freckled skin and intricate tattoos. Long hair, in clumps and braids, spreads like a wave around his head.

He’s from the heart of Rome, an Empire that prides itself on beauty and elegance, but he has never seen anything as lovely as this Pict warrior with a gentleness that startles him.

He wants to stay here. In this quiet peaceful glade, with Sam and his herbs and potions, with Dean and his rough voice and sharp glances.

He likes it here, more than he has any right to.

The sun is coming up, through the trees, birds singing louder in the forest.

He’s still watching Dean when the other man blinks awake, and he watches it, watches it wash over him like the sunrise, a slow flutter of long lashes and a sleepy smile that he knows damn well isn’t meant for him.

It’s the warmest look Dean has ever given him and he allows himself to reveal in it for longer than he should, while Dean wakes up.

“Good morning, Dean,” he whispers, into the quiet cabin.

“Mornin’, Blue,” Dean mumbles back and for a while, as the forest wakes beyond this small haven, they enjoy the silence together.

deancasbigbang:

Title: The Cold Fusion Job
Author: la_rubinita
Artist: throughxthexice
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Dean/Cas
Warnings: thief!Dean, scientist!Cas, kidnapping, action violence, heist job, Cas pretends to be Russian, Dean’s A+ self-worth, Dean deserves nice things, Cas is a nice thing, Jo is a fucking badass
Posting Date: 10/4/2017

Summary:  Castiel Milton is a brilliant electro-chemist at the peak of his career.  He’s developed the ultimate energy source, the science behind it promising to revolutionize the world energy market and combat climate change in a way few could have ever dreamed.  He’s proud of his work, but he’s grown restless and is more lonely than he realized.  He’s ready for a change.  

Dean is a thief and mercenary by trade, on a mission of absolution with his rag-tag family.  But when the nastiest skeleton in Dean’s closet rears its ugly head, Dean is put between a rock and a hard place: steal Castiel’s research or Sam dies.  

It’s all downhill from there.  Dean is not the only thief after Castiel’s work, and no one is pulling any punches.  Castiel ends up along for the ride, stepping up time and time again, as determined to save Sam as he is to protect his life’s work.

Dean doesn’t know what to do with Castiel and his too-blue eyes that see more than they should, or the growing affection he has for him that, like everything else about this wild night, is completely out of control.

– – –

Castiel wandered up to his building in a daze, stopping dead when he saw his reflection in the glass door.  He looked like hell.  His tuxedo was destroyed — torn, covered in dirt, the knees of his trousers were shredded from when he’d knelt in the glass, and his bowtie was gone.  The dark circles under his eyes made him appear as exhausted as he felt, and he was in dire need of a shower and a shave.
There was also the blood.  Most of it was Dean’s.

The apartment was full of morning sun when Castiel finally managed to trudge up the stairs.  The television was on, re-runs of “The Rockford Files” airing with the volume turned low, and Anna was asleep on the sofa, still wearing her dress.  She stirred when the door clicked shut behind him, stretching and yawning as she fixed her bleary gaze on him.

She looked out the window, then back at him, a teasing smile curling her lips and sculpted eyebrows dancing suggestively.  “I guess it ended up being more than just a couple of drinks and some glad-handing.”

“You could say that,” Castiel said dryly.

Anna squinted at him across the room.  “Did you go for a literal roll in the hay?”

“Not exactly.”

“Where would you even find hay?”

Castiel looked down at himself, remembering rolling down that embankment, the sound of metal twisting in the distance.

Anna got up and moved toward him, alert now, keen eyes cataloging every detail.  Not much got past her.  Her gaze narrowed.  “Is that blood?”

He tried to think of something to say to soothe his sister, but Anna was already working herself up to a proper fit, so…  “No?”  

“That is not a question you answer with another question, Cas!  Oh my God, did he roofie you and leave you to die of exposure?”

Castiel shook his head.  “Nothing like that.  He was a perfect gentleman.  Until he throat-punched the priest.”

“What?!”  Anna screeched, flailing a little.  “Who throat-punches a priest?  Alright, that’s it.  I’m am officially making myself your Head Screener of Dates.  Jesus.  You went to a fundraising gala, and you look like someone threw you out of a moving car!”

He canted his head to the side.  Her summary was surprisingly accurate.
“I’m going to shower.”

“What?  Cas!  You can’t lead in with ‘he throat-punched a priest’ and then just walk away!”

Castiel walked away.

It wasn’t like the guy was a real priest anyway.

deancasbigbang:

Title: Between the Folds of Submission
Author: destimushi
Artist: purzelndesbaeumchen
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Dean/Cas
Warnings: serial killer case, D/S biology, Dominant Dean, Submissive Cas, suspense, kidnapping, subspace, hand-feeding, spanking, facial
Posting Date: 10/2/2017

Summary:  Castiel Novak, the city’s only Submissive homicide detective, balances navigating a career believed to be a Dominant’s domain and keeping his physical needs in check. When another team drops the ball and a series of gruesome murders lands in Castiel’s lap, it’s simply another day on the job.

Only this isn’t like any case Castiel has ever worked. Collecting clues and running leads gets him nowhere, until the day he receives a phone call from Dean Winchester, Editor-in-Chief of the popular magazine Cruisin’ Classics. It’s a phone call that has the power to blow the case wide open.

Castiel races against the clock as the killer ups the ante, but Dean—rich, drop-dead gorgeous, and a famously unconventional Dominant to boot—proves to be a distraction he can’t afford. As the danger grows, Castiel finds himself torn between upholding his beliefs and giving in to his desires. Can he resist his urges long enough to find the killer, or will his biology consume him?

– – –

“You’ve really never been with a Dominant before?” Dean cuts in, and his bright green eyes flash with mischief.

Castiel blinks, his jaw clenching as he takes a few breaths before answering, “I don’t see how—“

“Just answer the question.” Dean’s voice drops, so low and smooth it’s like silk against Castiel’s skin, and he’s responding to the command as much as he is to the question when he says, “No, I haven’t.”

Dean’s eyes widen, sunlight bounces off the flecks of gold in his eyes, and Castiel stares, mesmerized. “But the VPD must be crawling with doms.”

Castiel blinks, breaking free of the bewitching fire in Dean’s eyes, and rage bubbles to the surface, threatening to break through. He swallows, his throat scratchy, and grips his pen until his knuckles are bleach white. “That’s none of your business, and I’d appreciate it if you stopped trying to intimidate me.”

“Okay, sorry.” Dean puts up both hands, palms open and facing Castiel, and the apology in his smile seems genuine. “That was an asshole thing to do.”

“Yes, it was, guess I should have expected it.” Castiel should be professional, should check his feelings at the door when he’s on the clock. It’s not the first time a Dominant tried to take advantage of him, but there’s just something about Dean that rubs him wrong. Maybe it’s that stupid article D/S Weekly did on Dean, or, if Castiel’s being honest with himself, it’s something a lot more personal.

“Oh?” Dean’s eyebrows shoot up and Castiel can’t decide if Dean’s amused or surprised or a little pissed off.  

“I read the article.”

“Okay, so you know I’m unconventional. Doesn’t mean you know me personally.”

“I don’t know what being ‘unconventional’ has anything to do with it, and I really don’t care.” Castiel meets Dean’s gaze even if the pit of his stomach is dropping further with each passing second. “We have a killer on the loose, and you have possible evidence, so let me do my job, and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“I read about you too, you know.” Dean shrugs and leans back, his arms stretch out behind him as his hands take his weight. The suit jacket falls open, and the silk of his shirt strains around the buttons in soft creases. Dean’s clothes are hiding well toned arms and a broad chest sporting a peculiar tattoo. Castiel might have paid more attention to the photographs attached to that article than he cares to admit. “First Submissive to ever make homicide detective. Very impressive.”  

“Good, then you know my job is important to me, and I’d like to do it now, please.”