#ace!spn

[destielhiseyesopened]

Ace!Sam headcanon intensifies

[ourladyoflawrence]

Give me Castiel who's brazenly asexual 

Give me Castiel thrilled to answer questions about his asexuality and "inform the unwashed masses" (his brother's words, not his) 

Give me Castiel being a drama queen about finding himself sexually attracted to Dean: "traumatized I tell you! I'm traumatized, Charlie!" "You are no such thing you big baby, you're probably just demisexual" "I feel like I've been lied to my entire life!" "By who? Yourself?" 

Give me grey-ace Cas finding himself sort of attracted to both Sam and Dean ("those damn Winchester genes") 

Give me castiel throwing shade and not taking anyone's bullshit for two seconds about his sexuality 

Especially not Dean's: "I'm a raging asexual, you're a closeted bisexual. Now either quit harassing me and we can be friends or I'll tell Chuck you want to read his shitty graphic novels" 

(obviously Dean takes him out for lets-play-nice burgers to apologize and they become best friends) 

Give me Sam helping Cas realize his asexuality 

Give me Cas helping Sam realize his demi/asexuality 

Give me Charlie and Cas and Sam meeting at a pray the gay away camp and them hanging out at each other's houses (and then Charlie getting a crush on both Jo and Anael and Cas getting a crush on Dean) 

Give me ace Cas constantly making dick jokes and “that's what she said” jokes 

Just fuckin throw ace Cas at me

[greenglowsgold]

Ace!Gabriel? Hell yes!

In honor of Ace Angels (and Demons) Day, have some asexual!Gabriel headcanons:

In the thousands of years he’s hidden himself among humans and gods and monsters, Gabriel has been in love many times, with many different people, but he’s never felt sexual attraction for any one of them.

He’s had sex, though. Many times.

Gabe is a sex-positive asexual. He likes the closeness and the physicality of it all, likes the tangible contact with whomever he’s with. For him, sex isn’t about love, but connection.

He can also be kind of an asshole about sex sometimes. That whole “libido” thing can be pretty funny to look in on, and he definitely gets his laughs.

Vessels are weird, okay? Gabriel’s an archangel, so they can’t exactly cut him off from anything, but vacationing on Earth for extended periods tends to ground you a little. Human bodies come with some weird junk attached, and he much preferred it after he let the soul move on and made the body his own.

He can do just about anything, change the map of the world, and he knows that some gods use that to great effect in the bedroom, but why would you bother when you can take on a much wider arena? Mostly, he’d rather build an entire castle out of jello and leave civilians to gawk at it than conjure some up for a quick romp.

Sometimes he uses his powers to make playmates: girls, boys, other categories that make humans get all hissy about binary systems. He knows most people assume they’re for sex, but they’re not. He just likes having them around. Mostly for aesthetic appeal. He makes some VERY pretty constructs.

Sex with Kali is some of the best he’s ever had because he can feel the heat in her skin, and she never cares if his attraction is exactly the same as she expects, as long as he’s focused on her.

And then there was the time Thor tried to bring up the “tension” between them. Gabe laughed until he cried, and still managed to choke out a “hell no.”

There are things Gabriel loves about humans, and the asexual movement is one of them (it took him a while to figure out that some humans felt this way too, and even longer for those humans to organize). He showed up at a Pride parade once, about a year before the apocalypse, and by the time he left, there were about 2000 more purple balloons and some very confused organizers.

More than one acephobe had earned his wrath and revenge. He takes altogether too much glee in showing them that, yeah, not only do asexuals exist, but some of them have the power of Heaven on their side.

That porno message he gave the Winchesters never really got around to the actual sex part. Yeah, he knew they’d turn the thing off at the first sign of skin. Wimps.

[bloodynecksnflowers]

Currently trying to write a Ace!Destiel fanfic.

Not sure anyone’s gonna read it, bc, well it lacks “the sex” 

but I thought why not give it a shot?

Even though Dean’s has been like this massive womanizer, in my head asexual!Destiel makes a looooot of sense.

[greenglowsgold]

Some demisexual!Sam/Jess headcanons for AceSamDay:

Sam doesn’t feel sexual attraction for anyone, until Jess. He never got to know anyone long enough before that.

He doesn’t hear the word ‘asexual’ until college; it never even occurs to him to look. Afterward, he can’t believe he spent all those hours looking up obscure legends that nobody believed existed, and somehow missed the one that explained HIM.

Jess takes him to a Pride meeting, not for him, but for her, because she’s panromantic (and heterosexual). It’s after he hears a rundown of terms that he has a revelation, of sorts.

Really, Sam’s just so, so glad that he stopped driving around the states and went to college and learned THIS.

It’s another few months after that before he actually starts feeling sexual attraction toward Jess. They’ve already had sex by then, before the Pride meeting even, but it’s a whole new experience starting to want her.

He has to adjust from ‘asexual’ to ‘demisexual,’ and even though it’s just in his head, it still feels like he’s been lying somehow.

He tells Jess after that, because he lies to her about enough, already.

Jess is very cool with it (though she worries at first because they didn’t wait very long to have sex and did he actually want to, then?), and they sit down to have a talk about their sexual relationship. She tells him it’s fine, he wasn’t lying, he just wasn’t finished figuring it all out.

Sam is sex-indifferent, so even after he starts feeling attracted to Jess, the sex in and of itself is just okay, maybe pleasant, nothing fantastic. The fantastic part is doing it with Jess.

He likes the skin contact more than anything, and they end up taking a lot of showers together.

[greenglowsgold]

AceSamDay Drabble

Sam has sex for the first time when he’s seventeen.

Just barely seventeen, just by a few days, and Dean tells him he’s running a few years behind his big brother but he says it with a weird twist to his voice and Sam’s convinced that he didn’t mean it as a bad thing. Or maybe he did, but it didn’t come out that way. Dean also gives him a condom, which he slips into the pocket of his dress pants where it’ll be easier to find later tonight, when he’s having sex.

The sex is going to be with Miranda Hinshaw, who’s been touching his arms and giggling ever since she asked him to ask her to prom three weeks ago. The pants, and the rest of the suit, are Dean’s, stuff he normally uses for undercover jobs but loaned to Sam for the night because Sam’s been growing so much lately that they’re only a little too big. The pants almost brush the ground, but if he trips while dancing, he’s pretty sure that’ll still be his own fault.

And really, that was the thing he was most worried about before Dean went and told him he was going to have sex.

“What?” Sam hisses, like he needs to keep it quiet even though they’re the only two around, Dad out for the weekend to take care of a ghost two towns over. “No, I’m not. Shut up, Dean.”

Dean raises his eyebrows, shrugs with a roll of his shoulders that’s way too casual for this conversation. “Okay, whatever,” he says. “But you should let, what’s her name, Miranda know that too, ‘cause she probably thinks you’re gonna do it tonight.”

“What?” Sam says, again, with a lot less heat, because oh shit, what if Dean’s right? He usually knows this stuff, way better than Sam ever has.

“It’s prom night, Sam,” Dean says, like that’s supposed to mean something. “She been dropping hints? You two got a hotel room booked or something?”

“No.” No hotel room. Sam dropped some cash on the corsage, and Dean covered him on the unexpected expense of the tickets (he’ll pay him back after finals, when he finds himself a summer job), and he’s borrowing the suit and the shoes and the Impala, big and black enough that he figures it’ll cover for the fact he can’t afford a limo. But no, there was never any talk of a hotel room. Except… “She keeps mentioning her parents are out of town this weekend.”

“There you go, man. Lucky you. A chick’s bedroom is way better than some random bed a hundred other guys have jizzed on this year alone.”

At this point, Sam must start looking pretty blindsided, because Dean’s grin drops and he puts a hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“Sam, you okay? You know, uh.” Dean shifts, looking more uncomfortable by the minute. “You know you don’t actually have to, just because it’s prom. I mean, no bullshit, I know you haven’t done it before. You went on and on last Christmas about that girl just kissing you, so.”

“No,” Sam says, stops him before he can get any farther than that. “No, it’s fine, I just didn’t think—” I’d be doing that until college “—she’d want to.”

Dean shrugs, and his hand leaves Sam’s shoulder, finally. “Some girls go to all that trouble getting you in bed and then they just wanna give you a handjob, who knows. But if she’s taking you home, something’s gonna happen, trust me.” He’s digging around in his duffle for something. “And if you didn’t know about it, you’re probably not prepared, huh?”

Sam tells Dean he probably won’t need the condom because there’s bound to be one or two already in the pockets of the suit jacket. Dean says, sure, but wouldn’t you rather have one that isn’t used? and Sam shoves him onto the bed even though he isn’t serious (please God let him not be serious, Sam isn’t brave enough to check the pockets and be sure). It gives him a moment to catch his breath before he goes.

Miranda doesn’t look like she’s waiting to have sex with him tonight. She looks like a girl who’s excited for her first big dance, in a pretty blue dress that shows just a bit of cleavage and flows down gracefully to the floor, hair and makeup done to perfection, smiling wider than he’d have thought possible when he slides the corsage over her wrist.

There’s a woman in the doorway with her, who insists on taking a couple of pictures before they go, and for a moment Sam’s heart leaps, he thinks it’s her mother, and her parents didn’t go away for the weekend after all, so they won’t have the house to themselves and he’ll just have to drop her off at the door with a kiss. But, no, she’s way too young. This must be the older sister, who looks like she’s dressed for a date of her own tonight. So Sam smiles for the pictures and holds the car door open for Miranda and they’re off.

“Your sister seems really nice,” he says, to break up the silence in the car.

“She’s alright,” Miranda allows, leaning forward in her seat as if the school is about to come in to view just around the next corner.

She sits like that for the entirety of the ten-minute ride.

The dance, at least, is teeming with students, all crowded into the gymnasium that shouldn’t be large enough to hold the entire 11th grade, half of them in fancy dresses that take up more floor space than they should, so there’s no way to descend into awkward silence. Miranda drags him around the room, talking to all her friends. She knows way more people at this school than Sam does, having moved to town just over a month ago. He wonders if that’s why she asked him (to ask her) to prom, because he was still new enough and just barely tall enough to be the mysterious new guy.

Anyway, he doesn’t care. The girls compare corsages while the guys sip punch and talk about whatever, and it’s crazy how nice a time he’s having without doing much of anything at all. He’s at prom. This is what every kid his age is doing tonight, and he’s doing it too.

And when every boy his age is getting dragged out onto the dance floor by their dates, so is he. And when every boy his age is swaying clumsily to a song that every girl his age seems to know all the words to, so is he. And when every boy his age is clutching tight to the waist of every girl his age as they head out the door, well. So is he. And he’s driving them back to Miranda’s house, feeling so high and light from the whole thing that he almost suspects someone’s gone all the way and actually dumped alcohol in punch bowl. Or he’s dizzy from all the times they spun around on the dance floor.

Either way, he’s happy enough that he makes the drive without any mishaps, and he’s smiling all the way out of the car, up to the door, and into the house. It’s when Miranda leads him, holding his hand the whole time, up to the edge of his bed that he starts to falter.

It’s just because this is his first time, he tells himself. That’s why he’s more nervous than excited, why he’d rather go back to the dance floor instead of being here (where every boy his age is right now, tonight, he reminds himself, and so is he). He shakes his head, makes himself focus. It’s like Dad was telling him, the first time he went along on a salt-and-burn. Pay attention, learn it right the first time, and the next twenty times’ll be a whole lot easier.

His head spins with the thought of doing this twenty times.

Deep breath.

She’s waiting for him to make the first move, but he’s not sure what that is, so he goes back to the basics, to what he knows, and kisses her. That seems to work well enough.

Her lips are smooth and warm and the perfect balance of wet-dry, tasting pleasantly of strawberry (she must have re-done her lip gloss in the bathroom just before they left the dance). She sighs gently and opens her mouth just a little, which he knows means it’s time to start using tongue, so he does. Oh, God, please don’t let him be terrible at this.

At some point, she takes his fumbling gestures to mean that he isn’t quite sure how to get her dress off without being unkind to the fabric, and giggles and shoves him away playfully to do it herself. Gratefully, Sam takes care of his own clothes, because that he knows how to do. Once they’re naked, he pretty much lets her take over.

Is it rude, he wonders, to be making her do all the work? She doesn’t seem unhappy about it; for all the she let him kiss her first, now that they’re in the midst of everything, she’s ready to lead. The feeling of her skin sliding against his is nice, nicer than he would’ve thought, or rather, of course it’s nice, he’s always been told it would be nice. And it is. It reminds him of dancing in slow circles, bodies pressed together lightly, her hair brushing against his cheek and her chin resting softly on his shoulder.

And then her hand wraps around his dick, and the feeling is so out-of-place that he has to stop and remind himself that he’s not at the dance, he’s in bed with a girl, and this is what happens.

It’s all good, at first, if a little weird, because he’s done this for himself before, but now it’s not him controlling the hand and there’s just something really odd about that. But he lies back and reminds himself to keep kissing her back and touching her skin, and hopes they’ll move on to the main event soon enough. She smiles at him and kisses him and then she draws away a little, draws down, and her mouth closes over the tip of his— Oh, shit, okay, no no wait.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry,” he says, because even he knows that it’s totally rude to jerk away when a girl tries to go down on you.

“It’s okay,” she says, even though it isn’t. There’s a little bit of spit on her cheek, now. He’s managed to fuck it up and he’s not even doing any of the work.

Sam’s not sure if it’s because she takes pity on him or because she’s getting annoyed with his lack of enthusiasm, but it doesn’t take much longer before he’s rolling on the condom. Now, finally, Sam pushes himself up, tries to take the lead, because he knows how this part is supposed to go.

It’s a little overwhelming, like it was when Miranda first tried to use her mouth, but this time he’s ready for it, so he doesn’t pull away. Sam remembers, oddly, reading something about the physiological effects of sex on the human being, how much it has in common with the symptoms of panic or a heart attack. It seems like an unpleasant description, but obviously there are good parts, too. He always figured the balance had to be tipped way, way in the positive direction, considering how he’s always heard Dean talk about sex, but now that he’s here, it all seems pretty average to him. He actually wouldn’t mind being back on the dance floor instead of here, right now.

That thought scares him, suddenly, and it’s a good thing Miranda makes some kind of squirming motion just then that his dick really seems to like, because otherwise he might have lost his erection. He doesn’t, thank God — and that guy’s doing him an awful lot of favors tonight, so Sam hopes he’s properly communicating his appreciation.

For example, if he’s listing good things, there’s the fact that he’s here, having sex. Which is awesome, he reminds himself. Even if it’s a little weird, too. Like, he’s moving in and out of Miranda, in a space that could theoretically one day fit a baby, which is bound to be much, much bigger than his dick. That’s weird, right? That doesn’t seem possible. He doesn’t know how women do that.

No, okay. Head in the game.

How long have they been doing this?

He tries to stay focused on Miranda, moving beneath him, gripping his shoulder, until finally she squirms and makes a few sharp noises and then sighs happily. After a few moments, when she’s caught her breath, she smiles up at him and makes some comment about his stamina, which he takes to mean that he should have been done by now. Face red, which hopefully she can’t see too clearly in the dim light, he does his best to finish quickly.

The condom is gross as hell. He can’t chuck that thing into the trash can quick enough.

And oh, it’s awkward because he has to leave.

Sam has sex for the first time when he’s seventeen. After that, Dean winks at him more often when he makes jokes, like Sam’s in some secret club now that he’s fumbled around with a girl for twenty minutes or so in a dark room. When Dad gets home, ghost banished and family saved, he hears that Sam’s gone to prom and seems to know what it means, ruffles his hair like they didn’t yell at each other loud enough to wake the neighbors last time they talked. They go out to eat that night, and not even because they’re on the road somewhere new. There’s a weight in Sam’s chest the whole time, like somehow he’s lying to them.

Sam lies in bed and tries to figure out why it’s all such a big deal (because he’s the smart one, Dean always tells him, so he should be able to get this, everyone else in the world gets this). He thinks and thinks and thinks and stares up at the dark ceiling and pictures Miranda’s hair splayed across her naked chest and doesn’t understand it at all.

[destielhiseyesopened]

Ace!Sam, so hopelessly in love with Jess. Jess and Sam having sex a few times early on (cause "that's what couples do"), but pretty soon just not bothering anymore since neither of them's all that into it anyway. Sam and Jess both being blissfully happy with their relationship, exactly the way it is – but going along with it when their friends assume they screw each other senseless, cause they don't think anyone would understand. Sam and Jess stifling giggles as they make loud, obscene noises from just behind their closed bedroom door, purely to mess with their roommates.

Ace!Sam feeling occasional romantic attractions, and wishing the circumstances of his life were different so he could pursue a relationship, but also feeling a little relieved that they aren't, since he doubts anyone would really want to be with someone so indifferent toward sex anyway.

Demon blood giving Ace!Sam a carnal drive to claim and possess. Sam being scared and kind of disgusted by the things it makes him want to do, but wondering if these are the kind of "normal" sexual desires he's "supposed" to have. Sam trying to convince himself that this is a silver lining, cause maybe he'll get used to it and when the whole apocalypse thing is over he'll get to be "normal" after all.

Ace!Soulless!Sam trying to convince himself that his "problem" with sex was probably just some sort of overdeveloped moral hangup, and that he could be interested in it now that he doesn't care about that kind of thing. Soulless!Sam picking up random partners, experimenting with anything he can convince them to go along with, and callously suggesting it's their "fault" when he still just can't get into it. Sam getting his soul back (and with it, his morals), and hating himself for having treated anyone so horribly.

Ace!Sam despairing of ever being "normal," or alternatively, of ever again having a relationship like he had with Jess.

Ace!Sam developing feelings for Gabriel, but figuring a rake like Gabe would never want to be with... well, someone like him. Gabriel reminding Sam that, while he does enjoy sex as one of the things he can do since taking on corporeal form, in his true form he doesn't even have sex organs – so he hardly considers sex an essential part of himself or his relationships.

Gabriel loving to stroke Sam's hair as they cuddle together in bed, and Sam loving to stroke Gabriel's wings. Sam and Gabriel both liking to make loud, obscene noises from just behind their bedroom door, purely to mess with Dean.

Gabriel mentioning in passing one day that, if Sam's interested, they could try gracebonding with his grace and Sam's soul – angels' highest expression of intimacy, which is sometimes called "grace sex" but is honestly nothing of the sort. Sam deciding to give it a try and discovering that, for him and Gabe and their relationship, it's absolutely perfect.

[morecuddlzpleaz]

Sam knew from the get-go that he wasn't exactly normal. He did really well in high school, stayed away from things that would distract him more from his studies than hunting already did. He always thought he was doing the responsible thing until he started getting pointed questions from both Dean and his Dad about girls. He didn't realize that he was supposed to be distracted, by girls according to his dad, hell Dean said he would even take boys. Sam started talking about girls more after that, started spending time at the library and saying that he was visiting Laurie or Steph.

He thought that college would be better, that no one would care what he was or was not interested in doing with his free time. He was wrong. Brady gave him shit about always staying in, and when Sam tried to explain Brady just gave him shit about not being natural and trying to set him up on dates. Then he met Jess.

Jessica was his saving grace, no really. Sam told her everything and she offered to move in with him. She said her girlfriend back home trusted her and that it would make her parents feel better. When she or Sam had nightmares, they would crawl into bed with each other and curl up around one another pressed together tightly. Sam got along great with her girl friend and their was even talk about possibly discussing relationship lines.

Then the fire happened.

It was the same old shit except now Dean was a little easier to fool, a little less judgmental. Sam felt broken.

Cas had been giving him sidelong glances for a while. Looks full of longing and Sam new he had been doing the same. It took Sam two weeks into their dance before he sat Cas down and tried to tell him that it would never work, that their was something wrong with him and that Cas would be better off turning his head elsewhere. Cas stopped Sam mid sentence with a finger on his mouth and a soft sweet kiss to his forehead. Sam looked at him wide eyed and a little startled waiting for Cas to say something, anything.

Asexual. Sam rolled the word around in his head. He was overwhelmed, he had never thought that what was wrong with him could be normal. Cas seemed to understand his need to think and had merely curled up by his side with his head on Sam's chest and was talking low and quietly about anything and everything. Reassuring Sam that he wasn't going anywhere, didn't want anything that Sam wasn't willing to give. And for some reason...Sam believed him. Maybe not with his whole heart, maybe not all at once, but Sam knew that one day he could and that was all he ever really wanted.