Title: All of You
Author: ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.1)
tasty_boots
tasty_boots Rating: PG-13
Genre and/or Pairing: Always-a-girl!Dean/Castiel ; Genderswap/switch/bend
Spoilers: For season 4 and onward
Warnings: LIPSTICK. Misuse of italics. Sorry.
Word Count: 524
Summary: Out of the chaos that is their life, Deanna and Castiel find a moment to simply take each other in.
Castiel is half asleep beside her, hair mussed even more than usual from their last round of mind-blowing sex, but Deanna is wide awake.
She lets her gaze wander over his still form, memorizing the landmarks of his body one by one, and lets her fingertips trail behind. Cas sighs as she runs her fingers through his hair, shivers when her nails scrape oh-so-lightly across the freckle above his right nipple, and twitches when her fingers hit the hidden tickle spot on his hip.
She brings her hand back up to his face and traces his features. She runs her fingers over the cleft in his chin and up over his cheek bone, she follows the slight curve of his eyebrow down the ridge of his nose and around the flare of his nostril until she reaches his mouth. Deanna pauses here.
Here is the place her eyes are drawn to whenever she beholds his face. Here is the place she finds most kissable, except perhaps for the crook of his neck, or the spot on his hip that makes him fidget and laugh. Here is the place from which he expels praise not only of his Lord and Father, of His heavenly graces, but also of Deanna, of her skin and soul and mind.
She rolls away from Castiel to grab something off the nightstand and when she returns to his side he is more awake then she left him, as if his rest was disturbed by the lack of her presence. He blinks lazily at her as she pulls the cap off the tube of lipstick and twists the bottom.
Open your mouth, she murmurs, and Castiel complies without hesitation.
Deanna paints his lips in color; pays special attention to the cupid’s bow she likes to nibble and the corners she likes to lick. She withdraws to contemplate her work, leans back in to make a few final touches, and then withdraws again to carefully cap the lipstick.
She shows him how to rub his lips together to ensure that the color is spread evenly, and he imitates her actions, complete with the lip smack she finishes with.
Deanna smiles and rolls over to place the lipstick back on the nightstand. Cas follows her and presses a kiss against the side of her neck while she’s turned away, making her sigh contentedly and roll onto her back. He kisses down between her breasts and across her stomach, leaving a trail of lip prints in his wake.
After each kiss she whispers something she loves about him, your hair, your faith, your smile, your grace, your humor, your dick. He chastises her for the last by scraping his teeth across her nipple, and she gasps and arches into his mouth. Mmm… your mouth. He gently presses his lips against the hand print seared into the flesh of her shoulder. Your hands.
He raises himself up and covers her body with his completely, his face hovering barely an inch above her own. Your lips, definitely your lips.
Cas leans down, and just as their mouths graze each other Deanna whispers, You.
All of you.
Castiel is half asleep beside her, hair mussed even more than usual from their last round of mind-blowing sex, but Deanna is wide awake.
She lets her gaze wander over his still form, memorizing the landmarks of his body one by one, and lets her fingertips trail behind. Cas sighs as she runs her fingers through his hair, shivers when her nails scrape oh-so-lightly across the freckle above his right nipple, and twitches when her fingers hit the hidden tickle spot on his hip.
She brings her hand back up to his face and traces his features. She runs her fingers over the cleft in his chin and up over his cheek bone, she follows the slight curve of his eyebrow down the ridge of his nose and around the flare of his nostril until she reaches his mouth. Deanna pauses here.
Here is the place her eyes are drawn to whenever she beholds his face. Here is the place she finds most kissable, except perhaps for the crook of his neck, or the spot on his hip that makes him fidget and laugh. Here is the place from which he expels praise not only of his Lord and Father, of His heavenly graces, but also of Deanna, of her skin and soul and mind.
She rolls away from Castiel to grab something off the nightstand and when she returns to his side he is more awake then she left him, as if his rest was disturbed by the lack of her presence. He blinks lazily at her as she pulls the cap off the tube of lipstick and twists the bottom.
Open your mouth, she murmurs, and Castiel complies without hesitation.
Deanna paints his lips in color; pays special attention to the cupid’s bow she likes to nibble and the corners she likes to lick. She withdraws to contemplate her work, leans back in to make a few final touches, and then withdraws again to carefully cap the lipstick.
She shows him how to rub his lips together to ensure that the color is spread evenly, and he imitates her actions, complete with the lip smack she finishes with.
Deanna smiles and rolls over to place the lipstick back on the nightstand. Cas follows her and presses a kiss against the side of her neck while she’s turned away, making her sigh contentedly and roll onto her back. He kisses down between her breasts and across her stomach, leaving a trail of lip prints in his wake.
After each kiss she whispers something she loves about him, your hair, your faith, your smile, your grace, your humor, your dick. He chastises her for the last by scraping his teeth across her nipple, and she gasps and arches into his mouth. Mmm… your mouth. He gently presses his lips against the hand print seared into the flesh of her shoulder. Your hands.
He raises himself up and covers her body with his completely, his face hovering barely an inch above her own. Your lips, definitely your lips.
Cas leans down, and just as their mouths graze each other Deanna whispers, You.
All of you.
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