Control Lost, NC-17, Supernatural
Title: Control Lost
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Castiel/Dean
Summary: Dean does not understand what Castiel is now, and Castiel's patience has come to an end.
Warnings/Spoilers: Rimming, Rough Sex, BAMF!Castiel. Spoilers for the S5 Finale
A/N: Written for kink_bingo. Prompt is Animal Play (stretched to non-human play). Fourth in the One Deadly Sin series, but can be read as a standalone.
Castiel felt its presence before he could see it. He held Dean fast by the arm while waiting for it to appear. It had chosen female form, not a stolen body but one created to be whatever it chose. Long hair, chestnut red, figure typically attractive and clothed to hint rather than reveal. It knew its prey well enough and a glance left told Castiel that the slight swing of its hips had mesmerised Dean.
“Do you know who I am, Archangel?” Its voice was low and seductive, as appropriate for the form it was taking.
“You are a Sin.” It did not seem content with the answer.
"Who I am, not what I am.”
“You are not a who.” Castiel’s reply was simple although Dean appeared disturbed by its frankness. “You are a shadow on humanity.”
It turned to face Dean as though sharing a joke with him. “I prefer the name of Lust, personally.” She winked at him and Dean seemed to shake off whatever had previously distracted him, his hands reaching for the knife in his waistband.
“Before you ask, Dean, and yes of course I know who you are; before you charge in, all guns blazing, I’m just here to pass on my thanks for halting the apocalypse.”
Castiel could not tell the meaning behind its words, and his confusion must have been apparent as it shot him a sidewards look.
“Gabriel will explain later. For now…” It trailed off as it moved more quickly than any demon, head beside Castiel’s ear before he could react. “Enjoy.”
Its breath curled around him, reminding him of Joshua’s garden and heaven as it was before.
The Sin appeared behind Dean now, whispering encouragement in his ear. Castiel reached forward to push it away, but it faded into mist, the sharp sound of its laughter echoing in the woods.
“Okay, what the hell just happened?” Dean asked, looking annoyed and somewhat disconcerted.
“I believe that a personification of a deadly sin has attempted to reward us by using its powers to encourage base desires.”
“She tried to roofie us?” Dean snorted in derision. “Fucking demons.”
“It is not a demon,” Castiel clarified. “It is a sin imitating flesh.”
“Yeah, fine I’ll add it to the list.” Dean headed back to the car and Castiel followed, but not dutifully this time. A strange feeling of resentment was building. Dean did not seem to have noticed.
“C’mon, we gotta get you back and reverse whatever voodoo she did.”
Dean opened the door of the impala and Castiel slammed it shut with a gesture. Dean slowly turned round to face him, features composed into a half stunned, half angry expression. Castiel believed it to be an excellent representation of the phrase ‘What the fuck?’
“You still underestimate me.” His voice betrayed none of his building frustration.
“Excuse me?” Dean was clearly confused.
“I am glory, might and power unending.”
“Well yeah, sure. Angel stuff. I know that, Cas.”
“You do not understand.” The frustration increased in ferocity. Again, Dean was not listening.
“Dude, I just said-“
“I have been restrained around you. This was a mistake. You have taken my moderation for vulnerability and inexperience.”
Dean rolled his eyes and Castiel could feel him begin to dismiss all that Castiel had said. This stirred up a rage inside him, much as Dean’s castigations had soon after he had first raised him from hell.
Before Dean could speak, Castiel pushed him against the doors of the car, holding him fast with a single hand.
“You saw barely an ounce of my strength as an angel. I am an archangel now, and still you act to protect me.”
Dean looked at Castiel’s hand but did not struggle against it.
“Cas-“
“Not just Cas, Dean. Also Castiel, Archangel of the Lord. I have learned much from my time on earth and am not so naïve as you still believe me to be.”
Castiel moved closer and dropped his voice to a quieter level, more befitting what he was about to say.
“I have been patient, and I have waited since we lay together in silence; but I see now that this was not the right course of action. I wish to make things clear: I can and will protect myself from harm. I can and will fight for whatever and whomever I choose.” Castiel hesitated, but the building anger inside spurred him on.
“And I can and will take what is mine.”
The burning fury surged upwards and Castiel held Dean bodily against the car, pulling open his mouth and rushing forward to kiss him violently. He had seen this time after time when Dean had slept, his dreams so vivid that Castiel could not help but see them. For so long he had anticipated, but now was the time for action.
The anger had changed; no less ferocious, it was now fuelled by desperation. He wished to do everything Dean had dreamed of, but still to remind him that he was not a dog, a pet angel to be sheltered and patronised.
A compromise was reached. He pulled Dean away as he wrenched the back door open, all but throwing Dean back down inside the car. For the first time since Castiel had begun his assault, Dean spoke.
“Do not mess up the leather.”
Castiel fought the temptation to shred the car into a million pieces and then repair it to show Dean just how foolish his threat was. He had become accomplished at resisting such provocation and instead leapt in on top of Dean. There was barely room for Castiel to brace himself against the seat, but he found a hand hold when Dean raised his arms to push down Castiel’s jacket. Another time he would allow such a slow method, but now he had no intention of delaying the inevitable further.
“Fuck!” Castiel neither knew nor cared whether the exclamation was due to the sudden lack of clothing, or that Dean was now facing down into the bench seat. He was crouched awkwardly, one knee on the back of Dean’s thigh, the other leg holding him up from the foot-well. Position was all that was important right now as this in particular had been a recurring theme.
“Lay perfectly still or I will stop,” he commanded.
Dean made a noise that Castiel suspected was a sarcastic response. He truncated it by dipping his tongue into the curve at the base of Dean’s spine. Dean’s breath hitched as his body tensed. He arched into the movement as Castiel continued to lick along his coccyx until he reached the cleft of Dean’s ass.
He was surprised to find himself gratified by Dean’s moan of complaint as he eased himself back out of the car and between Dean’s outstretched legs. For a brief moment he contemplated slowing down, dragging out his lesson.
That would wait.
He parted Dean’s cheeks and pressed his tongue hard against the puckered hole. Dean scrambled to push himself up and backwards, but failed to get a grip on the seat cushion, instead falling back down as Castiel forced his way in. The creaking of the leather as Dean shifted against the movement added an obscene soundtrack to his actions.
Castiel held Dean down firmly so that only his upper body was free to move. One of Dean’s arms flailed wildly, finally grabbing at Castiel’s hair. Whether he meant to pull him back or urge him forward was irrelevant because Castiel had no intention of being moved by Dean right now.
He would learn his place.
Only after Dean had begun to make muffled moaning sounds against the seat did Castiel stop, satisfied that Dean was paying attention. An equally muffled curse reaffirmed this belief.
“Are you ready to listen?”
The ‘Fuck yes!’ from inside the car was followed by a grunt of surprise as Castiel pulled him further out of the car, until Dean’s feet were on the ground supporting his weight. Castiel gave Dean enough time to hold himself up from the seat before he pushed part way in. He noted Dean’s attempt to rub his erect cock against the side of the back seat and held him back, just far enough away to avoid friction.
When Dean began to curse him for it, he pulled out and thrust in fully. The stream of invective grew more creative until it trailed off into frustrated noises. Castiel decided now was the time.
“You will remember this, Dean,” he said, pace and intensity increasing. “I am an Archangel with power over you and all the earth.”
“I’ll definitely remember your ego-trip,” Dean panted out.
“What am I, Dean?” Castiel could feel the desperate anger try to engulf him, forcing him to hold back as his true self threatened to break through.
“I’ll remember.” It wasn’t enough, not for what he was going through, resisting all this.
“What am I, Dean?” Castiel growled out, control over his grace eroding his control over the situation.
Dean mumbled and while Castiel could hear it perfectly, he wanted the memory to be loud and clear.
“What. Am. I. Dean?” He punctuated every word with a deeper thrust, Dean’s back curling to accommodate him.
“You’re a goddamned archangel!” Dean yelled out as Castiel began to lose control.
“Close your eyes,” he barked out just before he lit up the forest around them. He curled around Dean, embracing him as the sensation of being touched by his angelic form caused Dean to buck and shudder beneath him.
As he slowly regained control and reigned himself back into human appearance, he wondered if perhaps that was the orgasm of which humans spoke so highly. Such a complete lack of control was terrifying, and yet captivating.
Finally he composed himself and noted that Dean was unconscious. Not dead, he checked, nor blind, for which Castiel was thankful. He carefully dressed Dean and lay him gently back into the car, barely fitting even curled up on the back seat. Castiel felt that the lesson had been learned.
Castiel was struck by a thought. A quandary.
It was not possible for Castiel to drive the car.
He could transport it, himself and Dean back to the motel. Unfortunately he had expended no small amount of energy in the last half hour, and so the move would likely be less than smooth. That would wake Dean; what remained of the fury inside had left him with a feeling of protectiveness and he was unwilling to disturb Dean’s sleep.
Which left patience. If he had done nothing else in the past two years, he had perfected that skill.
So he sat, comfortable enough in the passenger seat, and stood sentry. When Dean awoke they would return, but until then no force on, below or above earth would disturb them.
He would make sure of it.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Castiel/Dean
Summary: Dean does not understand what Castiel is now, and Castiel's patience has come to an end.
Warnings/Spoilers: Rimming, Rough Sex, BAMF!Castiel. Spoilers for the S5 Finale
A/N: Written for kink_bingo. Prompt is Animal Play (stretched to non-human play). Fourth in the One Deadly Sin series, but can be read as a standalone.
Castiel felt its presence before he could see it. He held Dean fast by the arm while waiting for it to appear. It had chosen female form, not a stolen body but one created to be whatever it chose. Long hair, chestnut red, figure typically attractive and clothed to hint rather than reveal. It knew its prey well enough and a glance left told Castiel that the slight swing of its hips had mesmerised Dean.
“Do you know who I am, Archangel?” Its voice was low and seductive, as appropriate for the form it was taking.
“You are a Sin.” It did not seem content with the answer.
"Who I am, not what I am.”
“You are not a who.” Castiel’s reply was simple although Dean appeared disturbed by its frankness. “You are a shadow on humanity.”
It turned to face Dean as though sharing a joke with him. “I prefer the name of Lust, personally.” She winked at him and Dean seemed to shake off whatever had previously distracted him, his hands reaching for the knife in his waistband.
“Before you ask, Dean, and yes of course I know who you are; before you charge in, all guns blazing, I’m just here to pass on my thanks for halting the apocalypse.”
Castiel could not tell the meaning behind its words, and his confusion must have been apparent as it shot him a sidewards look.
“Gabriel will explain later. For now…” It trailed off as it moved more quickly than any demon, head beside Castiel’s ear before he could react. “Enjoy.”
Its breath curled around him, reminding him of Joshua’s garden and heaven as it was before.
The Sin appeared behind Dean now, whispering encouragement in his ear. Castiel reached forward to push it away, but it faded into mist, the sharp sound of its laughter echoing in the woods.
“Okay, what the hell just happened?” Dean asked, looking annoyed and somewhat disconcerted.
“I believe that a personification of a deadly sin has attempted to reward us by using its powers to encourage base desires.”
“She tried to roofie us?” Dean snorted in derision. “Fucking demons.”
“It is not a demon,” Castiel clarified. “It is a sin imitating flesh.”
“Yeah, fine I’ll add it to the list.” Dean headed back to the car and Castiel followed, but not dutifully this time. A strange feeling of resentment was building. Dean did not seem to have noticed.
“C’mon, we gotta get you back and reverse whatever voodoo she did.”
Dean opened the door of the impala and Castiel slammed it shut with a gesture. Dean slowly turned round to face him, features composed into a half stunned, half angry expression. Castiel believed it to be an excellent representation of the phrase ‘What the fuck?’
“You still underestimate me.” His voice betrayed none of his building frustration.
“Excuse me?” Dean was clearly confused.
“I am glory, might and power unending.”
“Well yeah, sure. Angel stuff. I know that, Cas.”
“You do not understand.” The frustration increased in ferocity. Again, Dean was not listening.
“Dude, I just said-“
“I have been restrained around you. This was a mistake. You have taken my moderation for vulnerability and inexperience.”
Dean rolled his eyes and Castiel could feel him begin to dismiss all that Castiel had said. This stirred up a rage inside him, much as Dean’s castigations had soon after he had first raised him from hell.
Before Dean could speak, Castiel pushed him against the doors of the car, holding him fast with a single hand.
“You saw barely an ounce of my strength as an angel. I am an archangel now, and still you act to protect me.”
Dean looked at Castiel’s hand but did not struggle against it.
“Cas-“
“Not just Cas, Dean. Also Castiel, Archangel of the Lord. I have learned much from my time on earth and am not so naïve as you still believe me to be.”
Castiel moved closer and dropped his voice to a quieter level, more befitting what he was about to say.
“I have been patient, and I have waited since we lay together in silence; but I see now that this was not the right course of action. I wish to make things clear: I can and will protect myself from harm. I can and will fight for whatever and whomever I choose.” Castiel hesitated, but the building anger inside spurred him on.
“And I can and will take what is mine.”
The burning fury surged upwards and Castiel held Dean bodily against the car, pulling open his mouth and rushing forward to kiss him violently. He had seen this time after time when Dean had slept, his dreams so vivid that Castiel could not help but see them. For so long he had anticipated, but now was the time for action.
The anger had changed; no less ferocious, it was now fuelled by desperation. He wished to do everything Dean had dreamed of, but still to remind him that he was not a dog, a pet angel to be sheltered and patronised.
A compromise was reached. He pulled Dean away as he wrenched the back door open, all but throwing Dean back down inside the car. For the first time since Castiel had begun his assault, Dean spoke.
“Do not mess up the leather.”
Castiel fought the temptation to shred the car into a million pieces and then repair it to show Dean just how foolish his threat was. He had become accomplished at resisting such provocation and instead leapt in on top of Dean. There was barely room for Castiel to brace himself against the seat, but he found a hand hold when Dean raised his arms to push down Castiel’s jacket. Another time he would allow such a slow method, but now he had no intention of delaying the inevitable further.
“Fuck!” Castiel neither knew nor cared whether the exclamation was due to the sudden lack of clothing, or that Dean was now facing down into the bench seat. He was crouched awkwardly, one knee on the back of Dean’s thigh, the other leg holding him up from the foot-well. Position was all that was important right now as this in particular had been a recurring theme.
“Lay perfectly still or I will stop,” he commanded.
Dean made a noise that Castiel suspected was a sarcastic response. He truncated it by dipping his tongue into the curve at the base of Dean’s spine. Dean’s breath hitched as his body tensed. He arched into the movement as Castiel continued to lick along his coccyx until he reached the cleft of Dean’s ass.
He was surprised to find himself gratified by Dean’s moan of complaint as he eased himself back out of the car and between Dean’s outstretched legs. For a brief moment he contemplated slowing down, dragging out his lesson.
That would wait.
He parted Dean’s cheeks and pressed his tongue hard against the puckered hole. Dean scrambled to push himself up and backwards, but failed to get a grip on the seat cushion, instead falling back down as Castiel forced his way in. The creaking of the leather as Dean shifted against the movement added an obscene soundtrack to his actions.
Castiel held Dean down firmly so that only his upper body was free to move. One of Dean’s arms flailed wildly, finally grabbing at Castiel’s hair. Whether he meant to pull him back or urge him forward was irrelevant because Castiel had no intention of being moved by Dean right now.
He would learn his place.
Only after Dean had begun to make muffled moaning sounds against the seat did Castiel stop, satisfied that Dean was paying attention. An equally muffled curse reaffirmed this belief.
“Are you ready to listen?”
The ‘Fuck yes!’ from inside the car was followed by a grunt of surprise as Castiel pulled him further out of the car, until Dean’s feet were on the ground supporting his weight. Castiel gave Dean enough time to hold himself up from the seat before he pushed part way in. He noted Dean’s attempt to rub his erect cock against the side of the back seat and held him back, just far enough away to avoid friction.
When Dean began to curse him for it, he pulled out and thrust in fully. The stream of invective grew more creative until it trailed off into frustrated noises. Castiel decided now was the time.
“You will remember this, Dean,” he said, pace and intensity increasing. “I am an Archangel with power over you and all the earth.”
“I’ll definitely remember your ego-trip,” Dean panted out.
“What am I, Dean?” Castiel could feel the desperate anger try to engulf him, forcing him to hold back as his true self threatened to break through.
“I’ll remember.” It wasn’t enough, not for what he was going through, resisting all this.
“What am I, Dean?” Castiel growled out, control over his grace eroding his control over the situation.
Dean mumbled and while Castiel could hear it perfectly, he wanted the memory to be loud and clear.
“What. Am. I. Dean?” He punctuated every word with a deeper thrust, Dean’s back curling to accommodate him.
“You’re a goddamned archangel!” Dean yelled out as Castiel began to lose control.
“Close your eyes,” he barked out just before he lit up the forest around them. He curled around Dean, embracing him as the sensation of being touched by his angelic form caused Dean to buck and shudder beneath him.
As he slowly regained control and reigned himself back into human appearance, he wondered if perhaps that was the orgasm of which humans spoke so highly. Such a complete lack of control was terrifying, and yet captivating.
Finally he composed himself and noted that Dean was unconscious. Not dead, he checked, nor blind, for which Castiel was thankful. He carefully dressed Dean and lay him gently back into the car, barely fitting even curled up on the back seat. Castiel felt that the lesson had been learned.
Castiel was struck by a thought. A quandary.
It was not possible for Castiel to drive the car.
He could transport it, himself and Dean back to the motel. Unfortunately he had expended no small amount of energy in the last half hour, and so the move would likely be less than smooth. That would wake Dean; what remained of the fury inside had left him with a feeling of protectiveness and he was unwilling to disturb Dean’s sleep.
Which left patience. If he had done nothing else in the past two years, he had perfected that skill.
So he sat, comfortable enough in the passenger seat, and stood sentry. When Dean awoke they would return, but until then no force on, below or above earth would disturb them.
He would make sure of it.