[fic post] The Dark I Know Well
Title: The Dark I Know Well
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Angst/Downer
Pairings or Characters: Demon!Dean/Castiel
Warnings: VERY VERY DUB-CON, some bondage, rough sex, somewhat dark fic, spoilers through 6.11
Word Count: 4,200
Summary: "You have Dean. I'm here to get him back."
Author Notes: Inspired by this graphic by parrotworm on tumblr, and title from jooleah on tumblr. Finally de-anoning but I'm still a little nervous since this is both my first Supernatural smut fic and my first dub-con fic, so I hope you still like it.
The Dark I Know Well
Castiel is in the middle of ripping one of his brothers into non-existence when he feels it, raw and violent through his entire self. It's different from when Dean calls him, when it's insistent and strong but gentle, friendly. This hurts in a way that he's seldom felt in his very long existence, and he leaves the battlefield in an instant.
In a second, he shrinks into his vessel and lands on Earth, in the middle of a field somewhere. He scowls at the darkness until he hears the groaning and appears beside Sam. Cas finds him barely conscious, bleeding and broken inside and out. With a soft touch to his forehead, Sam is repaired, sucking in a large breath as he sits up with a start.
"Shit, Cas--" Sam chokes out, grabbing at the arm helping to hold him up.
"Where is Dean?" Castiel asks immediately. He is good at patience -- with the Winchesters, he's become an expert at patience -- but he has none now.
"It-- He just-- No, no, fuck--"
"Sam. Tell me where he is."
"I don't know," Sam coughs, "I don't know. The demon, it-- it ripped him open, Cas. It cut out his tattoo and just--"
Castiel's scowl deepens as he grips Sam's shoulder hard, concentrating on the motel he finds in Sam's recent memory, and takes them out of the field and into the room he sees. Sam is still on the floor as Castiel straightens, heading immediately for the brothers' bags. He finds what he needs for the locating spell and clears the hotel room table quickly, frowning as his human hands move too slow for his liking. Sam starts asking questions, but Castiel ignores him, a mix of frustrated and anxious as he numbly mutters the enochian words.
The table bursts into flames and somewhere behind him, Castiel feels Sam recoil, but the fire is out before he can grab something to douse it. Burnt into the fake wood, Castiel sees a single word.
"Where is he?"
"Sam--"
"You're taking me to wherever he is."
"No."
"He's my brother, and that thing is in him, Cas. You have to take me."
"I can't."
"What do you mean you can't?!"
Sam steps towards him, using his height to try and intimidate, but Castiel is used to being ethereal and bigger than most skyscrapers, so he rolls his eyes and sighs.
"Sam, your soul has been out of Lucifer's cage for barely a month, and this demon possessed your brother despite an anti-possession tattoo, the demon knife and all the knowledge he has. The effort he put in to rescuing your soul would be undone with ease if I brought you. Dean would not want that. I can't bring you."
Castiel is gone before Sam has a chance to say anything else, left behind in a dim motel room with the word grave etched in enochian on the table.
~
"I thought you would have gone to Lucifer's cage."
Castiel watches the figure freeze, crouched in front of the grave Sam had dug for Dean's shredded body almost four years ago. It rises slow and turns to face him, and even in the dark, he recognizes Dean's face with ease.
"What are you doing here, Castiel?" the demon asks in Dean's voice. Castiel feels sick and hollow as it steps closer, its black eyes glinting as they narrow.
"You have Dean. I'm here to get him back."
Castiel has reached into Hell, been torn apart from the skin of his vessel to the chords of his being, Fallen from Heaven and risen again, all for Dean. He will rip this demon out of Dean if it costs him every last inch of himself. Inside Dean's body, the demon knows it, too, but it doesn't seem afraid. Castiel is itching to fix that.
"And what makes you think I'm gonna let you do that?"
There's a hint of a smirk as the demon stops, feet away, and for a moment, Castiel is truly furious.
"I can throw you back where you came from, you--" he starts, but there's a snap of fingers and his mouth is forced shut. He grunts and frowns, looking downward as he reaches up a hand to feel the tape clinging to his face, before glaring back at the demon in Dean's body. It's steps away now, arms folded across Dean's chest, looking amused at its own cleverness.
"That's enough talking for now, angel. If you thought it was gonna be that easy, well..."
It closes the distance in two strides, bringing a hand up and closing it around Castiel's neck, squeezing tight but not enough to cut off his breathing.
"I'm not-so sorry to break it to you, but Dean's too much fun. You should hear him. It's like hell all over again, except now you can't save him."
The smirk widens, cruel and unnatural on Dean's face, and Castiel vanishes from its grip, appearing behind it the next second, hand brought up and ready to banish the demon inside his friend.
But he hesitates.
Dean is fragile, Dean is human, and Dean is injured, violated and ruined with this demon inside him, and Castiel just wants to save him. But while he can endure every pain in the world to piece Dean back together, Dean can't always suffer all of the pain it takes to be saved.
Castiel hesitates for half a second, but that's enough for the demon to move out of the way. He collides with the ground and has no time to react before there's another snapping of fingers and his wings suddenly feel trapped and confined and he groans in pain against the tape on his mouth. One more snap and his hands are bound with the same tape across his mouth. Castiel knows that duct tape has little effect on angels, but it's just a physical form of a more effective, intangible restraint, a visual aid he suspects serves for Dean, trapped somewhere inside.
The demon crouches next to him as he writhes on the floor, desperate to unbind his wings.
"You can't do it, can you?"
Castiel slows, breathing hard through his nose, and glares up at it. The demon laughs, disbelieving, and grabs Castiel by the face.
"Dean's so precious to you," it says, sounding surprised. It tilts Castiel's face to the side and rubs his cheek with Dean's thumb. "An angel that actually cares for a man. It'd almost be cute if it wasn't so disgusting."
He tries to fight out of its grip on him, but to no effect. He's stuck staring up into Dean's face, distorted by an unfamiliar grin.
"You're in here a lot, y'know. In his head. Most of it's Lucifer's meatsack, these two brothers being sickly dependent and pathetically needy with each other and crap, but a lot of it's you," it tells him casually. Castiel's eyebrows knit together, confused, but the demon licks Dean's lips and continues. "He really doesn't want you to hear this. He's screaming quite a bit now, even more than before."
The hand on his face moves, drifting down to his neck, a thumb rubbing against his chin. It laughs when it feels Castiel's pulse jump in his throat.
"It's embarrassing, actually. After all you've done for him, he thinks you'll turn him down if he asks for a blowjob or a quickie in the back of his stupid car. You wouldn't, though. You'd give him anything he asked for, wouldn't you, angel..."
Castiel gasps against the tape on his mouth as his shirt rips down the middle, the sides of his jacket and trench coat spreading out on the dead ground around him. The hand on his neck travels across his chest, careful to go slow as if it's mapping the span of his skin, and down his stomach to start on his belt.
"Dean here, he thinks us demons are evil, murdering, raping, worthless things. You probably do, too, being one of those uppity angel assholes," the demon laughs, getting the belt undone and starting with the zipper of his slacks, "And, okay, some of us are that kind of filth. But I'm not that bad. I can't promise you no murdering, but I can do you both a favor."
Castiel's gaze flits down to the hand hovering above his crotch before meeting back with solid black eyes.
"I can get this stupid 'unresolved sexual tension' bullshit out of the way."
The demon smiles, and it looks soft and genuine, and Castiel's stomach does an uncomfortable flip. His pants are undone and Dean's calloused hands are tugging down his underwear, but it's not Dean undressing him. His mind understands but his body doesn't, warmth stirring in his belly as the impostor settles between his legs when its done pulling his shoes and his slacks all the way off.
"Dean," he tries to call out, but against the tape it sounds more like, "Nnphm."
"Oh, don't resist now. C'mon, we haven't even started! He's gotten pretty quiet seeing you naked like this, too," it says, using Dean's voice and Dean's smile so easily, like they belong to it.
Castiel's hands are still bound and held above his chest, but the demon grabs him by the wrists and forces them above his head with ease. It tilts Dean's head to the side, smirking as it stares down through solid black eyes.
"Mm, a picture just like this is in his head a lot, you spread out and wanting. Minus the duct tape, but he's a romantic, I guess."
The demon's spare hand grabs Castiel's stirring cock and strokes it once, and his entire body tightens and coils. It does it again, using Dean's hands where no one has touched since Castiel first took this vessel, and he feels sick for how much he doesn't want it to stop. He presses his eyes shut, desperate to escape any way he can, but then there's a tongue on his chest and his eyes shoot back open, wide and piercing blue as he stares up at a black sky, drowning in the wet heat spreading across his chest in licks and bites.
He groans for the first time, loud and clear even with the tape muffling him. He's all the way hard now, and Dean's calloused hand is still stroking him, long and slow.
"Hear that, Dean?" the demon asks, its breath against Castiel's chest warm where Dean's teeth have marked him, "He likes it just fine."
There's no warning, no preparation, before Castiel feels the hand leave his cock and something hard presses against him and pushes inside, uncomfortable and painful in a way he's never experienced before. He's felt much worse, though, and even as the something inside him seems to get bigger and the sting gets worse, he doesn't cry out. The demon pushes away from Castiel's chest, twisting Dean's face into a mix of amused and frustrated as he looks down at him.
"This is a lot easier than I thought it'd be, but I was hoping you'd scream. It won't be as much fun if you don't," it pouts, tugging Dean's mouth into a frown.
The something inside him retreats, and Castiel realizes belatedly that it was fingers as the demon holds them up and snaps them together. The binding on his wings tightens suddenly and he shrieks against the tape, bits of light beginning to pour out from behind his eyes as he bucks and writhes in his ripped clothing on top of dead soil.
"There we go, just like that," the demon whispers as the binds loosen back up and he stills, and even though it isn't Dean, its tone is nothing like Dean, the sound of his voice is enough to soothe him, just a little. The pain has made him soft, but the demon doesn't seem to care as it presses Dean's fingers back inside him, spreading him wide and raw. The pain shoots through his wings again, not as strong as before, but enough to make him cry out again and squirm in place, unintentionally driving himself down and swallowing Dean's fingers even further. His cock twitches and he feels an ache starting to spread, wanting, needing more, despite the pain shooting through him.
The fingers leave again and wrap around Castiel's half-hard dick, stroking him hard, as the demon snorts, sounding amused.
"You like a little pain, huh?"
The demon narrows its black eyes and the pain bursts out his back, like his wings are being torn right out of the skin of his physical body, and singed to the root on the metaphysical plain. He writhes and screams, but with Dean's rough hand still working his cock, the need and the want remains.
His wrists, pinned above his head, struggle against the grip keeping them in the dirt until suddenly there's nothing holding them there anymore. He pulls his arms down, curling his elbows into his sides and laying his bound hands on his chest, breathing hard through his nose as the pain subsides for a moment. He doesn't know what the demon is doing, but it apparently requires two hands, because the fingers squeezing his dick have released him, too.
Castiel hears a zipper and the shifting of denim, but the only clothing he has left on is the remains of his shirt and the sleeves of his jacket and trench coat. He's too sore to stretch his neck and peer down to where the demon is still sitting between his legs and see what it's doing, but he figures out quickly that it's sliding out of Dean's jeans.
Something wet presses against where he's still sore and forced open, but it's not unpleasant, just unfamiliar.
"Feel that?" the demon asks, and it rolls Dean's hips, pressing the something harder into him without actually pushing inside, "That's all Dean. He can scream and cry all he wants, but he's loving this. He's so hard for you, seeing you forced to submit like this. He wants to fuck you open, wreck you and soil you, bring an angel down to the human level."
The demon grabs Castiel's knees and pulls them upward, draping them over Dean's shoulders.
"And, hey, who am I to deny a guy that wants to defile an angel?"
It surges forward with Dean's hip and Dean's cock and forces it in, rough and wretched, and Castiel groans into the tape on his mouth as it pulls back only to thrust back in harder each time. The soreness gets worse with each push of Dean's dick inside him, but it's nothing compared to the feeling of his wings being torn apart, and the demon is concentrating on the sex hard enough that it's forgotten about making him scream. It's sick and it's twisted, not right and unholy, but for one selfish moment, he is grateful to be violated this way if it spares him that kind of pain.
"I wish I could rip that tape off your mouth," the demon says suddenly. It's hands are digging into the dirt beside Castiel's hips, pressing further into the ground with every few thrusts, while it stares down at him using Dean's face. "I would love to hear poor Dean's reaction to you panting and moaning, but if I take it off, I know you'll just try to exorcise me."
Its next thrust is particularly hard, reaching so deep Castiel's back arches off the ground at the sudden pulse of pleasure.
"Or you would, except you and I both know that the second I leave, Dean's dead meat."
Castiel moans as Dean's cock hits that spot again, but it's muffled by his binding.
"I'm holding him together, the glue that keeps his organs from spilling into the dirt. He can't live without me, angel, just like you can't live without him."
Again and again, Castiel is forced open, pushed into further, reached a bit deeper, and the ache in his belly and the strain of his cock is impossible to ignore, but the demon doesn't bother to help him. He reaches down and grabs his dick in his bound hands, trying to mimic what he felt the demon do as he squeezes around it and drags his fists up and down. It takes him a while to get the hang of it, but as he slowly starts to feel the pressure in the pit of his belly and the base of his cock, he arches his back, shoulder blades digging into the ground, and he groans.
"Oh, Dean, isn't that cute? He's learned how to jerk himself off," the demon taunts without its rhythm faltering at all. "Haha, he doesn't know whether to scream or to cheer. It's great. I wish you could hear him."
Suddenly it stills, and Castiel sucks in air through his nose, unable to gasp through his mouth. His ass is sore and his cock is still hard, but his hands pause, confused. He looks into black eyes and sees them shining with mirth, and he feels defeated and angry and impossibly sad all at once.
"Actually. You can."
The black suddenly recedes, and it's Dean's green eyes staring back into his blue ones, wide and fearful, before narrowing in pure fury.
"Cas," he breathes, and for one second, Castiel's heart stops, "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Dean, please," Castiel tries to say, but again, it comes out indecipherable.
"How could you let it do this? Why didn't you just kill it? Kill me?"
And Castiel wants to tell him, I know you would sacrifice yourself with no regrets if it meant killing that demon, but I couldn't do it because I was weak, because I couldn't risk you, because I need you alive, because I never should have let this happen but it did anyway, because you are all I have, but all he can do is stare back up at him with shame-filled eyes.
"You selfish fuck, you let him do this to you, to me, and you're enjoying it? What kind of freaking angel are you? I'd rather be dead than a sack of meat for some demon to take a joyride in, and you know it, and you still left me like this. If I ever get out of this, you better keep your feathery ass in heaven, or I'll kill you myself, angel."
Castiel's eyes narrow and he reaches up with his bound hands, grabbing as much of Dean's neck as he can.
As angry as he got, Dean never called him anything but Cas.
"Figured it out, huh?" the demon grins as Dean's eyes fill in with black, voice weak with most of Dean's throat being crushed in his grip. "Couldn't have the real Dean pop out, of course, he'd just spout off some exorcism chant and get rid of me. Hunters are a special breed of 'pain in the ass'."
Castiel squeezes tighter, and the demon finally starts to wince before snapping Dean's fingers, and the same horrible pain from earlier rips through his wings. He lets go in an instant and cries out muffled screams, riding down on Dean's still-hard cock as the agony rocks through him.
The pain fades as the demon laughs, twisting Dean's mouth up in a sickening smile.
"That's it, you just stay well-behaved. The show's not over, Dean," it says, thrusting forward with Dean's hips hard enough to make Castiel moan in surprise from a mix of pain and pleasure.
Castiel's hands are resting against his stomach again, but he doesn't reach down to ease the aching need in his cock. Even if it wasn't the real Dean that said those things, they were still true. He feels sick with guilt as Dean's dick rams into him over and over again, sick with the knowledge that he can feel good despite how wrong everything is. Dean would rather be dead than be violated like this, and whatever that means for Castiel, he shouldn't have hesitated when he had the chance.
The demon is still driving into him as his hands slowly reach upwards. It doesn't even seem to notice, too engrossed in its nearing orgasm to see Castiel's fingers grab onto the tape covering his mouth.
"Fuck, doesn't that feel so nice, Dean? Don't you wish this was you thrusting in, buried in his ass? It's so hot and tight, oh fuck, can't you feel it?" the demon is saying, taunting the soul trapped inside the same body. Its black eyes close shut and its rhythm begins to fall apart, and Castiel realizes that's an indication that the sex is almost over.
With every ounce of his strength, he tears at the binding, ripping it off of his face with such force that his lips and skin are left raw and spotted with blood.
"Coming, fuck, coming," the demon groans in Dean's voice, cock still and buried as deep as it can go, and Castiel feels a wetness pouring out inside him where he's been fucked open and bloody and sore.
It begins to open its eyes just as Castiel says, loud and commanding, "Get out of him."
There's a bright light as Castiel wills the demon gone, and he is sure to wish it into non existence rather than just back to Hell. The binding on his hands vanish to his relief, but it's the releasing of the restraints on his wings that makes him feel infinitely lighter and stronger.
But he has only seconds to appreciate it before Dean's body literally rips open and falls on his chest.
Sam hadn't been exaggerating when he said the demon had ripped Dean apart to get inside of him, and Castiel holds Dean's body, every piece he can reach, against him as tight as he can, concentrating and willing him back together. A second later, Dean is gasping and sputtering and pushing at his shoulders, telling him to let go. Castiel doesn't want to, but he does anyway.
Dean takes two seconds to realize that Cas is still naked, his dick is still inside him, and Cas is still hard, and promptly freaks out. He tugs his hips away, making Cas hiss as he pulls out, rubbing him raw where he's been stretched open.
"Shit, Cas-- I'm so-- Fuck," Dean panics, zipping up his jeans. He's still between Castiel's legs, hands hovering awkwardly above him, not sure where to look let alone touch, glancing up awkwardly at Castiel's face, desperately searching for some sort of cue. "I really need to talk to you Cas, but can you please magic yourself some pants? This is fucked up enough as it is without me staring at your boner."
Castiel blinks before pushing himself up on his elbows, repairing his shirt and giving himself a new pair of slacks, socks and shoes in an instant. His lips and the skin around his mouth is healed, and the soreness disappears as he heals his human skin, too, and he's still hard, but his erection is quickly waning.
Dean lets out a sigh and hangs his head, running a hand over his face.
"Okay, thanks for that."
"Of course, Dean."
Dean looks up at that, eyes green and clear, so beautiful Castiel could stare into them for days.
"Look, Cas... What that demon was saying, it wasn't-- a lot of it--"
"Demons lie, Dean."
"Yeah, I know, but some of it was.."
He grimaces, glaring at Castiel's tie as he tries to get the words out right, but after a minute, he gives up with a sigh. Dean still can't meet Castiel's eyes again, but Castiel doesn't blame him.
"I can't do this, Cas. Not right now. Not after..."
"It's fine, Dean," Castiel reassures, but Dean shakes his head.
"No, it's not, we have to-- We can't just leave it like this. I don't want-- Fuck, this is so messed up," he grunts, running a hand through his hair, before meeting Castiel's eyes one more time. "Tell me... Tell me we're okay."
Castiel wants to tell him yes. He wants to tell Dean that nothing will ever make Castiel look at him different, that they will always be okay.
But he wants to be honest.
"Cas," Dean says, and he's so close to begging, it hurts to listen, "Even if it's a lie, just say it. Please."
"We're okay, Dean."
"Yeah, yeah, we're okay. We're fine," Dean repeats, as if saying it enough will make it true, looking down at his hands like they've betrayed him.
Castiel reaches forward and Dean flinches away before catching himself and his face falls, and Castiel knows he wants to take it back, but it's too late, they both know what it means. He touches Dean's shoulder as briefly and lightly as he can, taking the two of them to Dean and Sam's shared motel room and disappearing the next second, leaving Dean alone with his brother and the images of Castiel, naked beneath him, while a demon took what he never had the courage to, and probably won't have the chance to again.
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Angst/Downer
Pairings or Characters: Demon!Dean/Castiel
Warnings: VERY VERY DUB-CON, some bondage, rough sex, somewhat dark fic, spoilers through 6.11
Word Count: 4,200
Summary: "You have Dean. I'm here to get him back."
Author Notes: Inspired by this graphic by parrotworm on tumblr, and title from jooleah on tumblr. Finally de-anoning but I'm still a little nervous since this is both my first Supernatural smut fic and my first dub-con fic, so I hope you still like it.
The Dark I Know Well
Castiel is in the middle of ripping one of his brothers into non-existence when he feels it, raw and violent through his entire self. It's different from when Dean calls him, when it's insistent and strong but gentle, friendly. This hurts in a way that he's seldom felt in his very long existence, and he leaves the battlefield in an instant.
In a second, he shrinks into his vessel and lands on Earth, in the middle of a field somewhere. He scowls at the darkness until he hears the groaning and appears beside Sam. Cas finds him barely conscious, bleeding and broken inside and out. With a soft touch to his forehead, Sam is repaired, sucking in a large breath as he sits up with a start.
"Shit, Cas--" Sam chokes out, grabbing at the arm helping to hold him up.
"Where is Dean?" Castiel asks immediately. He is good at patience -- with the Winchesters, he's become an expert at patience -- but he has none now.
"It-- He just-- No, no, fuck--"
"Sam. Tell me where he is."
"I don't know," Sam coughs, "I don't know. The demon, it-- it ripped him open, Cas. It cut out his tattoo and just--"
Castiel's scowl deepens as he grips Sam's shoulder hard, concentrating on the motel he finds in Sam's recent memory, and takes them out of the field and into the room he sees. Sam is still on the floor as Castiel straightens, heading immediately for the brothers' bags. He finds what he needs for the locating spell and clears the hotel room table quickly, frowning as his human hands move too slow for his liking. Sam starts asking questions, but Castiel ignores him, a mix of frustrated and anxious as he numbly mutters the enochian words.
The table bursts into flames and somewhere behind him, Castiel feels Sam recoil, but the fire is out before he can grab something to douse it. Burnt into the fake wood, Castiel sees a single word.
"Where is he?"
"Sam--"
"You're taking me to wherever he is."
"No."
"He's my brother, and that thing is in him, Cas. You have to take me."
"I can't."
"What do you mean you can't?!"
Sam steps towards him, using his height to try and intimidate, but Castiel is used to being ethereal and bigger than most skyscrapers, so he rolls his eyes and sighs.
"Sam, your soul has been out of Lucifer's cage for barely a month, and this demon possessed your brother despite an anti-possession tattoo, the demon knife and all the knowledge he has. The effort he put in to rescuing your soul would be undone with ease if I brought you. Dean would not want that. I can't bring you."
Castiel is gone before Sam has a chance to say anything else, left behind in a dim motel room with the word grave etched in enochian on the table.
~
"I thought you would have gone to Lucifer's cage."
Castiel watches the figure freeze, crouched in front of the grave Sam had dug for Dean's shredded body almost four years ago. It rises slow and turns to face him, and even in the dark, he recognizes Dean's face with ease.
"What are you doing here, Castiel?" the demon asks in Dean's voice. Castiel feels sick and hollow as it steps closer, its black eyes glinting as they narrow.
"You have Dean. I'm here to get him back."
Castiel has reached into Hell, been torn apart from the skin of his vessel to the chords of his being, Fallen from Heaven and risen again, all for Dean. He will rip this demon out of Dean if it costs him every last inch of himself. Inside Dean's body, the demon knows it, too, but it doesn't seem afraid. Castiel is itching to fix that.
"And what makes you think I'm gonna let you do that?"
There's a hint of a smirk as the demon stops, feet away, and for a moment, Castiel is truly furious.
"I can throw you back where you came from, you--" he starts, but there's a snap of fingers and his mouth is forced shut. He grunts and frowns, looking downward as he reaches up a hand to feel the tape clinging to his face, before glaring back at the demon in Dean's body. It's steps away now, arms folded across Dean's chest, looking amused at its own cleverness.
"That's enough talking for now, angel. If you thought it was gonna be that easy, well..."
It closes the distance in two strides, bringing a hand up and closing it around Castiel's neck, squeezing tight but not enough to cut off his breathing.
"I'm not-so sorry to break it to you, but Dean's too much fun. You should hear him. It's like hell all over again, except now you can't save him."
The smirk widens, cruel and unnatural on Dean's face, and Castiel vanishes from its grip, appearing behind it the next second, hand brought up and ready to banish the demon inside his friend.
But he hesitates.
Dean is fragile, Dean is human, and Dean is injured, violated and ruined with this demon inside him, and Castiel just wants to save him. But while he can endure every pain in the world to piece Dean back together, Dean can't always suffer all of the pain it takes to be saved.
Castiel hesitates for half a second, but that's enough for the demon to move out of the way. He collides with the ground and has no time to react before there's another snapping of fingers and his wings suddenly feel trapped and confined and he groans in pain against the tape on his mouth. One more snap and his hands are bound with the same tape across his mouth. Castiel knows that duct tape has little effect on angels, but it's just a physical form of a more effective, intangible restraint, a visual aid he suspects serves for Dean, trapped somewhere inside.
The demon crouches next to him as he writhes on the floor, desperate to unbind his wings.
"You can't do it, can you?"
Castiel slows, breathing hard through his nose, and glares up at it. The demon laughs, disbelieving, and grabs Castiel by the face.
"Dean's so precious to you," it says, sounding surprised. It tilts Castiel's face to the side and rubs his cheek with Dean's thumb. "An angel that actually cares for a man. It'd almost be cute if it wasn't so disgusting."
He tries to fight out of its grip on him, but to no effect. He's stuck staring up into Dean's face, distorted by an unfamiliar grin.
"You're in here a lot, y'know. In his head. Most of it's Lucifer's meatsack, these two brothers being sickly dependent and pathetically needy with each other and crap, but a lot of it's you," it tells him casually. Castiel's eyebrows knit together, confused, but the demon licks Dean's lips and continues. "He really doesn't want you to hear this. He's screaming quite a bit now, even more than before."
The hand on his face moves, drifting down to his neck, a thumb rubbing against his chin. It laughs when it feels Castiel's pulse jump in his throat.
"It's embarrassing, actually. After all you've done for him, he thinks you'll turn him down if he asks for a blowjob or a quickie in the back of his stupid car. You wouldn't, though. You'd give him anything he asked for, wouldn't you, angel..."
Castiel gasps against the tape on his mouth as his shirt rips down the middle, the sides of his jacket and trench coat spreading out on the dead ground around him. The hand on his neck travels across his chest, careful to go slow as if it's mapping the span of his skin, and down his stomach to start on his belt.
"Dean here, he thinks us demons are evil, murdering, raping, worthless things. You probably do, too, being one of those uppity angel assholes," the demon laughs, getting the belt undone and starting with the zipper of his slacks, "And, okay, some of us are that kind of filth. But I'm not that bad. I can't promise you no murdering, but I can do you both a favor."
Castiel's gaze flits down to the hand hovering above his crotch before meeting back with solid black eyes.
"I can get this stupid 'unresolved sexual tension' bullshit out of the way."
The demon smiles, and it looks soft and genuine, and Castiel's stomach does an uncomfortable flip. His pants are undone and Dean's calloused hands are tugging down his underwear, but it's not Dean undressing him. His mind understands but his body doesn't, warmth stirring in his belly as the impostor settles between his legs when its done pulling his shoes and his slacks all the way off.
"Dean," he tries to call out, but against the tape it sounds more like, "Nnphm."
"Oh, don't resist now. C'mon, we haven't even started! He's gotten pretty quiet seeing you naked like this, too," it says, using Dean's voice and Dean's smile so easily, like they belong to it.
Castiel's hands are still bound and held above his chest, but the demon grabs him by the wrists and forces them above his head with ease. It tilts Dean's head to the side, smirking as it stares down through solid black eyes.
"Mm, a picture just like this is in his head a lot, you spread out and wanting. Minus the duct tape, but he's a romantic, I guess."
The demon's spare hand grabs Castiel's stirring cock and strokes it once, and his entire body tightens and coils. It does it again, using Dean's hands where no one has touched since Castiel first took this vessel, and he feels sick for how much he doesn't want it to stop. He presses his eyes shut, desperate to escape any way he can, but then there's a tongue on his chest and his eyes shoot back open, wide and piercing blue as he stares up at a black sky, drowning in the wet heat spreading across his chest in licks and bites.
He groans for the first time, loud and clear even with the tape muffling him. He's all the way hard now, and Dean's calloused hand is still stroking him, long and slow.
"Hear that, Dean?" the demon asks, its breath against Castiel's chest warm where Dean's teeth have marked him, "He likes it just fine."
There's no warning, no preparation, before Castiel feels the hand leave his cock and something hard presses against him and pushes inside, uncomfortable and painful in a way he's never experienced before. He's felt much worse, though, and even as the something inside him seems to get bigger and the sting gets worse, he doesn't cry out. The demon pushes away from Castiel's chest, twisting Dean's face into a mix of amused and frustrated as he looks down at him.
"This is a lot easier than I thought it'd be, but I was hoping you'd scream. It won't be as much fun if you don't," it pouts, tugging Dean's mouth into a frown.
The something inside him retreats, and Castiel realizes belatedly that it was fingers as the demon holds them up and snaps them together. The binding on his wings tightens suddenly and he shrieks against the tape, bits of light beginning to pour out from behind his eyes as he bucks and writhes in his ripped clothing on top of dead soil.
"There we go, just like that," the demon whispers as the binds loosen back up and he stills, and even though it isn't Dean, its tone is nothing like Dean, the sound of his voice is enough to soothe him, just a little. The pain has made him soft, but the demon doesn't seem to care as it presses Dean's fingers back inside him, spreading him wide and raw. The pain shoots through his wings again, not as strong as before, but enough to make him cry out again and squirm in place, unintentionally driving himself down and swallowing Dean's fingers even further. His cock twitches and he feels an ache starting to spread, wanting, needing more, despite the pain shooting through him.
The fingers leave again and wrap around Castiel's half-hard dick, stroking him hard, as the demon snorts, sounding amused.
"You like a little pain, huh?"
The demon narrows its black eyes and the pain bursts out his back, like his wings are being torn right out of the skin of his physical body, and singed to the root on the metaphysical plain. He writhes and screams, but with Dean's rough hand still working his cock, the need and the want remains.
His wrists, pinned above his head, struggle against the grip keeping them in the dirt until suddenly there's nothing holding them there anymore. He pulls his arms down, curling his elbows into his sides and laying his bound hands on his chest, breathing hard through his nose as the pain subsides for a moment. He doesn't know what the demon is doing, but it apparently requires two hands, because the fingers squeezing his dick have released him, too.
Castiel hears a zipper and the shifting of denim, but the only clothing he has left on is the remains of his shirt and the sleeves of his jacket and trench coat. He's too sore to stretch his neck and peer down to where the demon is still sitting between his legs and see what it's doing, but he figures out quickly that it's sliding out of Dean's jeans.
Something wet presses against where he's still sore and forced open, but it's not unpleasant, just unfamiliar.
"Feel that?" the demon asks, and it rolls Dean's hips, pressing the something harder into him without actually pushing inside, "That's all Dean. He can scream and cry all he wants, but he's loving this. He's so hard for you, seeing you forced to submit like this. He wants to fuck you open, wreck you and soil you, bring an angel down to the human level."
The demon grabs Castiel's knees and pulls them upward, draping them over Dean's shoulders.
"And, hey, who am I to deny a guy that wants to defile an angel?"
It surges forward with Dean's hip and Dean's cock and forces it in, rough and wretched, and Castiel groans into the tape on his mouth as it pulls back only to thrust back in harder each time. The soreness gets worse with each push of Dean's dick inside him, but it's nothing compared to the feeling of his wings being torn apart, and the demon is concentrating on the sex hard enough that it's forgotten about making him scream. It's sick and it's twisted, not right and unholy, but for one selfish moment, he is grateful to be violated this way if it spares him that kind of pain.
"I wish I could rip that tape off your mouth," the demon says suddenly. It's hands are digging into the dirt beside Castiel's hips, pressing further into the ground with every few thrusts, while it stares down at him using Dean's face. "I would love to hear poor Dean's reaction to you panting and moaning, but if I take it off, I know you'll just try to exorcise me."
Its next thrust is particularly hard, reaching so deep Castiel's back arches off the ground at the sudden pulse of pleasure.
"Or you would, except you and I both know that the second I leave, Dean's dead meat."
Castiel moans as Dean's cock hits that spot again, but it's muffled by his binding.
"I'm holding him together, the glue that keeps his organs from spilling into the dirt. He can't live without me, angel, just like you can't live without him."
Again and again, Castiel is forced open, pushed into further, reached a bit deeper, and the ache in his belly and the strain of his cock is impossible to ignore, but the demon doesn't bother to help him. He reaches down and grabs his dick in his bound hands, trying to mimic what he felt the demon do as he squeezes around it and drags his fists up and down. It takes him a while to get the hang of it, but as he slowly starts to feel the pressure in the pit of his belly and the base of his cock, he arches his back, shoulder blades digging into the ground, and he groans.
"Oh, Dean, isn't that cute? He's learned how to jerk himself off," the demon taunts without its rhythm faltering at all. "Haha, he doesn't know whether to scream or to cheer. It's great. I wish you could hear him."
Suddenly it stills, and Castiel sucks in air through his nose, unable to gasp through his mouth. His ass is sore and his cock is still hard, but his hands pause, confused. He looks into black eyes and sees them shining with mirth, and he feels defeated and angry and impossibly sad all at once.
"Actually. You can."
The black suddenly recedes, and it's Dean's green eyes staring back into his blue ones, wide and fearful, before narrowing in pure fury.
"Cas," he breathes, and for one second, Castiel's heart stops, "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Dean, please," Castiel tries to say, but again, it comes out indecipherable.
"How could you let it do this? Why didn't you just kill it? Kill me?"
And Castiel wants to tell him, I know you would sacrifice yourself with no regrets if it meant killing that demon, but I couldn't do it because I was weak, because I couldn't risk you, because I need you alive, because I never should have let this happen but it did anyway, because you are all I have, but all he can do is stare back up at him with shame-filled eyes.
"You selfish fuck, you let him do this to you, to me, and you're enjoying it? What kind of freaking angel are you? I'd rather be dead than a sack of meat for some demon to take a joyride in, and you know it, and you still left me like this. If I ever get out of this, you better keep your feathery ass in heaven, or I'll kill you myself, angel."
Castiel's eyes narrow and he reaches up with his bound hands, grabbing as much of Dean's neck as he can.
As angry as he got, Dean never called him anything but Cas.
"Figured it out, huh?" the demon grins as Dean's eyes fill in with black, voice weak with most of Dean's throat being crushed in his grip. "Couldn't have the real Dean pop out, of course, he'd just spout off some exorcism chant and get rid of me. Hunters are a special breed of 'pain in the ass'."
Castiel squeezes tighter, and the demon finally starts to wince before snapping Dean's fingers, and the same horrible pain from earlier rips through his wings. He lets go in an instant and cries out muffled screams, riding down on Dean's still-hard cock as the agony rocks through him.
The pain fades as the demon laughs, twisting Dean's mouth up in a sickening smile.
"That's it, you just stay well-behaved. The show's not over, Dean," it says, thrusting forward with Dean's hips hard enough to make Castiel moan in surprise from a mix of pain and pleasure.
Castiel's hands are resting against his stomach again, but he doesn't reach down to ease the aching need in his cock. Even if it wasn't the real Dean that said those things, they were still true. He feels sick with guilt as Dean's dick rams into him over and over again, sick with the knowledge that he can feel good despite how wrong everything is. Dean would rather be dead than be violated like this, and whatever that means for Castiel, he shouldn't have hesitated when he had the chance.
The demon is still driving into him as his hands slowly reach upwards. It doesn't even seem to notice, too engrossed in its nearing orgasm to see Castiel's fingers grab onto the tape covering his mouth.
"Fuck, doesn't that feel so nice, Dean? Don't you wish this was you thrusting in, buried in his ass? It's so hot and tight, oh fuck, can't you feel it?" the demon is saying, taunting the soul trapped inside the same body. Its black eyes close shut and its rhythm begins to fall apart, and Castiel realizes that's an indication that the sex is almost over.
With every ounce of his strength, he tears at the binding, ripping it off of his face with such force that his lips and skin are left raw and spotted with blood.
"Coming, fuck, coming," the demon groans in Dean's voice, cock still and buried as deep as it can go, and Castiel feels a wetness pouring out inside him where he's been fucked open and bloody and sore.
It begins to open its eyes just as Castiel says, loud and commanding, "Get out of him."
There's a bright light as Castiel wills the demon gone, and he is sure to wish it into non existence rather than just back to Hell. The binding on his hands vanish to his relief, but it's the releasing of the restraints on his wings that makes him feel infinitely lighter and stronger.
But he has only seconds to appreciate it before Dean's body literally rips open and falls on his chest.
Sam hadn't been exaggerating when he said the demon had ripped Dean apart to get inside of him, and Castiel holds Dean's body, every piece he can reach, against him as tight as he can, concentrating and willing him back together. A second later, Dean is gasping and sputtering and pushing at his shoulders, telling him to let go. Castiel doesn't want to, but he does anyway.
Dean takes two seconds to realize that Cas is still naked, his dick is still inside him, and Cas is still hard, and promptly freaks out. He tugs his hips away, making Cas hiss as he pulls out, rubbing him raw where he's been stretched open.
"Shit, Cas-- I'm so-- Fuck," Dean panics, zipping up his jeans. He's still between Castiel's legs, hands hovering awkwardly above him, not sure where to look let alone touch, glancing up awkwardly at Castiel's face, desperately searching for some sort of cue. "I really need to talk to you Cas, but can you please magic yourself some pants? This is fucked up enough as it is without me staring at your boner."
Castiel blinks before pushing himself up on his elbows, repairing his shirt and giving himself a new pair of slacks, socks and shoes in an instant. His lips and the skin around his mouth is healed, and the soreness disappears as he heals his human skin, too, and he's still hard, but his erection is quickly waning.
Dean lets out a sigh and hangs his head, running a hand over his face.
"Okay, thanks for that."
"Of course, Dean."
Dean looks up at that, eyes green and clear, so beautiful Castiel could stare into them for days.
"Look, Cas... What that demon was saying, it wasn't-- a lot of it--"
"Demons lie, Dean."
"Yeah, I know, but some of it was.."
He grimaces, glaring at Castiel's tie as he tries to get the words out right, but after a minute, he gives up with a sigh. Dean still can't meet Castiel's eyes again, but Castiel doesn't blame him.
"I can't do this, Cas. Not right now. Not after..."
"It's fine, Dean," Castiel reassures, but Dean shakes his head.
"No, it's not, we have to-- We can't just leave it like this. I don't want-- Fuck, this is so messed up," he grunts, running a hand through his hair, before meeting Castiel's eyes one more time. "Tell me... Tell me we're okay."
Castiel wants to tell him yes. He wants to tell Dean that nothing will ever make Castiel look at him different, that they will always be okay.
But he wants to be honest.
"Cas," Dean says, and he's so close to begging, it hurts to listen, "Even if it's a lie, just say it. Please."
"We're okay, Dean."
"Yeah, yeah, we're okay. We're fine," Dean repeats, as if saying it enough will make it true, looking down at his hands like they've betrayed him.
Castiel reaches forward and Dean flinches away before catching himself and his face falls, and Castiel knows he wants to take it back, but it's too late, they both know what it means. He touches Dean's shoulder as briefly and lightly as he can, taking the two of them to Dean and Sam's shared motel room and disappearing the next second, leaving Dean alone with his brother and the images of Castiel, naked beneath him, while a demon took what he never had the courage to, and probably won't have the chance to again.