Destielfics
(Open, Unmoderated)
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Summary
“Take me,” Dean says. He doesn’t have to think about it. “Take me as your vessel, Cas.”
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or: Cas is cursed into an endless sleep. Dean offers himself up as his vessel while they try to break it.
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Summary
Castiel comes back, human, and suddenly the world feels different. Dean calls him Castiel at first for fun, to mask the weight of everything, but it doesn’t stay a joke. With every repetition, it becomes something else—tender, binding.
OR
A story about finding each other, quiet mornings, stumbling into domesticity, farmer’s markets, paint stains and coffee rings, maybe one last case, and the raw intimacy of learning each other without walls. In small rituals, they discover what it means to live without blood and fear, and to love without it.Or
A quiet love story about humanity, healing, and the way a name can mean everything.or
they get together, kiss, and have filthy sex, too.--
"The first time Dean says his full name, it startles him, deep, hits him like a thunderbolt. His eyes widen before he can stop it, and the word strokes something ancient in him, as old as the last wisps of his grace holding his skin together, and yet, embarrassingly human. It lands somewhere deep in his chest, somewhere to the top of his lungs, igniting him like a dropped match in dry grass. And something—heat or want maybe—flickers to life.
Dean doesn't look away. Then he says it again, slower." -
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Summary
It’s only once he’s begun to undo the buckles of his own outfit that Cas asks, “You want me?” sprawled out on the thin mattress, looking windswept as if he'd arrived from the sky.
“More than I’ve ever wanted anything,” Dean replies, clutching at the cloth over his heart, feeling the rapture underneath his skin.
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Summary
Every time Dean had been on his knees for Cas, someone's life was on the line. Every time he had gazed up at him, lips parted and eyes pleading, their relationship just grew more and more complicated.
This time, however, was different. Pleasure rushed through his veins instead of pain, his eyes shined with unshed tears that stemmed from euphoria rather than grief, his lips that were once swollen from unforgiving hits were now plump and red from rough and unyielding kisses. Being on his knees for Cas, like this, was deliciously uncomplicated.
Dean had never considered himself a worshipful man, but being on his knees in front of a flushed and wanting Cas might just be what changes his mind.
Series
- Part 2 of You're My Religion