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After some convincing, Castiel agrees to try out a sex club. He’s nervous and looking for any excuse to back out, until he stumbles across a photo of a beautiful sub with captivating green eyes. Cas has to have him.
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Dean has been Alastair’s submissive for years, but when he meets Castiel, a dark-haired Dom that makes Dean feel things he’s never experienced before, he starts longing for more than what Alistair has to offer. Will Dean be able to escape the clutches of Alastair or are his claws too deeply embedded in Dean for him to move on with his life?
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A collection of short Destiel fics
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Dean is a sex slave contracted to Alastair for four days a week. The other three days are now owned by Cas Novak. His time with Alastair is rough, there are no safewords, only pain and misery. Cas plans on saving him - if he can be saved.
There are non-con elements in this, be warned, and pretty extreme BDSM.
Also I've added a list of tags to the notes at the beginning of each chapter so you know what you're getting yourself in for ;)
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Unspoken words vibrate in the air between them.
They’re lethal.
They’re curative.
They scare the hell out of both of them.
Series
- Part 7 of Season 15 CODAs
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“Have you,” Cas falters, but you’re not willing to wait any longer, or watch them juggle turns, so you reach out and give his hand a squeeze, and then, he’s finally speaking. “Have you noticed that Dean and I have been going on our dates to, uh, crowded places, and clubs, for example?”
“Uhhuh.” You definitely have.
“Well, the reason we’ve not been going to more private places where it’s just the two of us instead, is because we thought we wanted to try something where it’s not just the two of us.” He emphasizes, and a speck of realization starts to seep in through you, and you can already feel your face starting to heat up.
You beckon your head at him to go on.
“But truth be told, we haven’t done anything like that yet. No one fits, and it never felt right. We could find no one we both wanted. And we almost dumped the entire setup until it occurred to us that we didn’t want to share each other with someone else.
Dean picks it up from there. “We wanted to share each other with you. We’d felt we wanted a threesome, but I don't think we ever really did. It was you, all along, Y/N."
"All we wanted was you."
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“What are you saying, Dean?”
“I’m saying that he—” Dean couldn’t spit the words out, so he paused. “He pretty much knocked me up.”
“You’re—” Sam looked out the window at a loss for words. He ran his hands through his hair, tangling it more in his stress, before he tried to continue the conversation. “There’s something inside of you?”
“I didn’t think I’d have to explain the birds and the bees, Sammy.”
“How the hell do we get rid of it?” he said with a sense of urgency.
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After being 'sacrificed' to Yokoth and Glythur, Dean winds up being the vessel to deliver their offspring. Though unwitting, Dean makes the best out of a bad situation.
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After a serious car accident ten years ago, Dean is left with chronic pain and a string of doms that refuse to work with his physical limitations. He's resigned himself to a kink free, single life until he runs into Castiel at a local club. They are instantly smitten with each other and Castiel works hard to show Dean what it feels like to be cherished and spoiled.
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Dean Winchester isn't an alpha like his dad or apparently what his brother's destined to be. But that's okay. Nothing wrong with being a beta like almost everybody else. It ain't anything special, but it's normal.
A visit to a clinic results in Dean finding out he's special after all, but not in the way he'd hoped.
If his ass smells like candy apples now, Dean’s going to throw himself out the window.
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Deans been lost since his beloved dad died, his mom and baby brother have not been kind. When Dean loses his job, his ex-boss points him towards a BDSM club in the city. Dean, not only finds a new lifestyle, friends and love. As his father told him, family comes first and you will do anything for them.
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“I need you to marry Castiel.”
They weren’t the words Dean expected to hear from his business partner’s mouth before their bakery-slash-chocolate shop opened for the day. He’d been quite happy being single—and who the fuck was Castiel, anyway?
It turned out that Castiel was a Russian erotic novelist in need of a ticket to America, and Dean… well, Dean was a last resort.
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Castiel can time travel. It takes a lot out of him to do but he’s become so infatuated with the younger version of his lover that a little nose bleed is a small price to pay for those lips around his cock.
Series
- Part 5 of Destiel Mini Fics
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tired, grumpy, and oh, very horny: a story about how (not) to get coffee by Winchester_of_the_lord
Fandoms: Supernatural
01 Dec 2019
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Cas licks his lips, then draws his bottom lip in between his teeth, probably contemplating what to do next. He slowly lets go of Dean’s wrists above his head, and leans forward once more, propping himself on his hands next to Dean’s shoulders. “Keep them right where they are. Don’t-” he bites down onto Dean’s earlobe “-move. Do you understand?”
Dean manages an eager nod, eyeing the glistening lips of his husband, now hovering right above his face. Those fucking lips have always been his weak spot, and Cas knows it.
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Castiel Novak never wanted to be a Dominant. Living with the mark on his skin that designates him as one has haunted him every day of his life, and he goes to great lengths to avoid the part of his biology that he hates. When he makes the decision to get a tattoo with the intent of hiding his mark away, he meets Dean Winchester: tattoo artist and confident submissive.
Dean turns Castiel’s world upside down and subverts every expectation Castiel ever had about himself and his designation. Will Dean be able to teach him how to be comfortable in his own skin?
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In the heat of the moment during a match, Dean and Castiel, leaders of rival teams, make a bet one of them foolishly doesn’t take too seriously: whoever loses will become the boy toy of the captain of the winning team. But unlike Dean, Castiel fully intends to go through with the bet and have the famous ladies' men Dean Winchester submit to him.
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Dean had a rough day.
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Surviving the war had been one of the hardest things Dean had ever done. Coming home from the war is proving to be even harder. Lost and adrift, he feels like he's drowning. When he happens upon a horse farm looking for help it might just be the lifeline he's been looking for.
When Cas meets the new farm hand he sees the same injured look in those eyes he's seen time and again in the horses he's rescued. Can he break through to Dean the way he has with his horses? Teach him to trust, to surrender, to connect. Can he break down Dean's defenses without destroying his own? Maybe with a little hope and a little rope they can find a way through together.
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Dean fucked himself. Not in the fun way. In the metaphorical one.
He fucked himself because he’s laying here in his bed, fingers on his lip, thinking about the man who kissed him ten hours ago. Who kissed him goodbye. The man with eyes so blue, so blue the sea constantly throws fits about it. All those storms, it’s the ocean being angry that Castiel’s eyes stole its colours.
The man who kissed him and left him with nothing but the promise of coming back.
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Heaven was no more.
The war was over.
Hell had won.
Most of the angels had been killed, but those who had survived were now demons. Few of them even remembered being anything but.
Castiel thought he had been an angel, once. He remembered light, and flashes of shiny wings and love. Most of all, he remembered green.
The same green he saw in the eyes of the human Abaddon had gifted him.
Not that it would stop him from breaking the puny little thing.
“Cas?”, the human asked, green eyes brimming with hope.
Castiel tilted his head to the side.
“Not quite, sweet thing”, he answered. “Not quite”. -
Caniformes (Übersetzung) by Melodina for give_it_a_little_nudge, Ignisvulpes
Fandoms: Supernatural
20 Nov 2019
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Das Rudel hatte in den letzten 200 Jahren so viele Omegas verloren. Das lag am kulturellen Wandel, der das Rudel aus seinen ländlichen, bewaldeten, kleinen Dörfern in die Städte brachte. 200 Jahre absolute Vernachlässigung der „Ammenmärchen“ und ihrer üblichen Heilmittel, ihrer Geschichten, ihrer Rituale, ihrer Praktiken, ihrer unantastbaren Lebensart hatten zu einer schnell schwindenden Wolfspopulation geführt, die sich so große Mühe gab, zu sein was sie nicht war, verkümmerte und in dunklen Gassen wahnsinnig wurde. Sie hatten ihr Rudelgefühl gegen die funkelnden Glas- und Stahlwolkenkratzer und die pferdelosen Kutschen der Affen getauscht und das Rudel litt darunter. Castiel dampfte jedes Mal vor Zorn, wenn er daran dachte und seine Nackenhaare stellten sich auf, als er auf dem Weg zurück um nach dem Jungen zu sehen durch eine weitere Schwingtür stürmte. Wölfe sind keine Affen. Sie brauchen das Rudel. Sie brauchen das Machtgefälle, die Eroberungen, die Disziplin und den Sex. Wölfe mussten im Samen ihrer Dominanten gebadet werden und die stahlharte Hand ihrer Alphas auf ihren Flanken spüren. Jede wissenschaftliche Studie der letzten 20 Jahre zeigte unmissverständlich das gleiche Ergebnis: Wölfe sind keine Affen.