EXCUSE ME
WHAT
JUST
HAPPENED
NO JUST NO
what the fuck do you mean,”what will you do?”
You guys are going to get married, get cats, and have a reality tv show on logo!
cosmo tip #249
grip him tight and raise him from perdition
- I want a Cockles AU fic, in which Misha is a presendential candidate while Jensen is his assistant……
- and sex
- a lot of sex
- they rule the world
SOMEONE WRITE THIS OR IF ALREADY WRITTEN LINK ME!!
HERE YOU GO-
Senator Misha Collins does the rounds of the town hall meeting with his usual brilliant, mega-watt smile and an easy roll to his shoulders; there’s nothing in his quick made-for-camera quips and firm handshakes that suggests that he’s just been on the road for four hours and this is his third campaign pit stop of the day.
Jensen settles himself to wait at the corner of the boardroom, trying to concentrate on Jim’s running report of the security sweep. He’s doing his best not to make it look like he’s admiring how the new gray tailored pants fit the pert curve of Misha’s ass, or how the Senator’s quite obviously limping a little. They’re in an enthusiastic university crowd - his liberal little monsters, Misha tended to call them, fond and wry, all D-Massachusetts of him, and fields the usual round of healthcare-economy-war-contraception parade-ground fire.
When it’s over, Jensen falls in step, scanning the crowd as Misha heads for the campaign bus, shaking hands and kissing babies the whole way. It’s a bit like a conveyor belt, Jensen thinks, and he grins a little to himself. Misha notices - his eyes widen a fraction, and then he’s shaking hands with another supporter, selling his promises for money to make more promises.
They’re five minutes on the road by the time Misha’s smile finally drops and he yawns and stretches, sprawled over two seats and fluid like a cat, tugging his tie out a fraction. ”Fuuuck. I’m tired.”
“Stay on message, Collins,” Jared drawls. Misha’s press secretary is one of the biggest guys that Jensen has ever seen, and he’s been in the game since he was old enough to intern. He’s also preternaturally patient and always on form, always weirdly good-natured even in a shitstorm. Jensen suspects that Jared’s probably either hiding a terrible temper under it all or he sacrifices kittens during winter solstices.
“Where are we going next?” Misha whines, palm pressed theatrically over his eyes.
“A nice, rustic local diner, where you will be ordering single malt beer and hot wings.”
“I don’t like hot wings.” Misha’s lips form into a pout.
“Tough luck, sir.”
“Why am I doing this to myself again?” A graceful hand sweeps out at the rest of their bus, and Misha can really work a pout. Jensen’s torn between amusement and arousal, not unusual where Misha is concerned, and he shifts in his seat as he studies the layout of their next stop.
“Because you want to change America, Collins,” Jared replies patiently.
“For the sake of kittens and kids and apple pie,” Jensen deadpans. ”Maybe the money and the fame too.”
“I have the most cynical staff ever,” Misha mutters, though he drags himself back up as though through sheer willpower. The bus jerks and turns, and Misha yelps as he totters over. Jensen has him before he hits anything, and they end up in a crazy sprawl of elbows and knees on Jensen’s seat. Misha grins at him, impish and unrepentant, the insane bastard. ”Hello, cute campaign staffer. Do you… what’s it called now? Do you want a cigar?”
“You’re horrible,” Jensen tells him dryly, though he lets Misha lean up to kiss him, fumbling and lazily intimate. ”Senator.”
“Mm. Blame Jared for hiring pure temptation.” Misha purrs, his thumbs in Jensen’s belt and his knees pressed on the ribbed carpet.
“I’ll have you know that Mister Ackles has a stellar resume,” Jared tells them.
“He was staring at my ass all afternoon,” Misha replies, and when Jared pulls a face, adds, “For your information. You may tweet that to the masses, Gen.”
“No you can’t,” Jared disagrees, even as Gen merely arches one eyebrow and goes back to her laptop. ”The mayor’s going to be at the diner. You went to law school with him-“
“Stubby Michaels-“
“-and you are not to refer to him by his nickname, or make any mention of the ‘Frat House Hustle’.”
“How did you know about that?” Misha blinks, even as Jensen tugs him up to sit next to him.
“It’s my business to know everything, Senator.”
“He’s scary,” Misha tells Jensen, pouting again.
“You hired him,” Jensen retorts, though he leans over for a quick, brushing kiss. ”Last stop of the day, Mish. Patience.”
“You’re all against me,” Misha makes a show of mock-sulking, though he grins and trails his fingers teasingly up Jensen’s thigh, and laughs when Jensen scowls and bats his hand away. They’ll have later.
So I used the drabble-o-matic to make a destiel fic.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An Impala In Time
On an iridescent and cooing morning, Dean sat ON THE GROUND. It was Valentine’s Day and he was all alone. His eye ached in sorrow for the secret love that he could never share. How could he expect Cas to love someone with an odd wing?
Annually, he began to recite a poem he had composed. “Ah, my love is like a blue lazy shoe, all on a summer’s day. I wish my Cas would kiss me, in his own hairy way…”
“Do you?” Cas sat down beside Dean and put his hand on Dean’s leg. “I think that could be arranged.”
Dean gasped huskily. “But what about my odd wing?”
“I like it,” Cas said doubtful. “I think it’s happy.”
They came together and their kiss was like a rainbow that casts a happy glow o’er all the land.
“I love you,” Dean said soon.
“I love you too,” Cas replied and kissed him.
They bought a demon, moved in together, and lived bitterly ever after.
#you tell me that dean doesn’t get turned on when cas gives orders #and i’ll show you this gif set
Cas: ENOUGH! *looks at Dean, staring at him*
Dean:…*staring at cas thinking: jesus christ Cas….that was fucking hot, that voice, the authogirty?..wait..am i really getting horny because of this??..fuck I am, fuck fuck….son f a bitch look at those eyes, jesus why are you doing this Cas? fuck i can’t wait or us to be alone, I’m gonna fucking fuck your brains out, that’s what you deserve for making me this horny just by that expression..fuck.. I’m gonna make you scream my name*
Cas:.. *staring at Dean: Yeah, that’s right, I’m a fucking angel of the lord, I’m powerfull, you liekd that? I know you liked that Dean, you better be prepared, can’t wait to get out of here, I’m gonna ride those bowlegs like there’s no tomorrow, I’ll show you what an “angel mojo” can do, Iill make you forget all about those busty women you like*^ /dead
holy fuck.
