Thursday and the Morningstar
Title: Thursday and the Morningstar
Author: secondplatypus
Pairing: Castiel/Lucifer
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: conniving/evil!Lucifer, messy ejaculation, and a little dub-con that quickly turns to oh-yes-please-wrong-hot-con
Spoilers: none
Word count: 1324
Disclaimer:Supernatural and all characters therein are the property of Eric Kripke and the WB/CW, I'm just borrowing them for my own nefarious purposes
Summary: When Castiel is mojo-zapped into Lucifer's arms, he discovers what the Devil's hands can do.
Author's note:
- I know this is pretty common knowledge, but I'm adding this note to cover all my bases. The "Thursday" in the title is an homage the fact that Castiel is an angel of Thursday. There is very little lore on this angel, and the small quantity that exists is found in occult texts.
- Takes place after 5.04.
- as filthy as my other rounds_of_kink fic is... not filthy.
- Based on x_shadowwings_x's messy ejaculation prompt, "with a twist of a hand and the blink of an eye, I'll see what I can do to make you whine". I threw in an eensy smidgeon of dub-con, a heaping spoonful of grace play, and a dash of wing kink to spice things up a little.
- This was completed three and a half weeks ago, and was my first completed foray into a pairing other than Dean/Castiel. It's one of my three favorites -- if not my top favorite -- out of everything I've written so far, and I've been bouncing out of my skin waiting to post it. It isn't due until the sixteenth, but I'm impatient and I had a crappy night, so I deemed it fic-posting time. I really hope you enjoy it.
The last thing Castiel remembered before waking up in Lucifer's arms was the rush of countless feathers through air and a blinding flash.
The fallen one was half vessel, half true form; all fire and brilliant gold radiance poured into flesh that couldn't hope to contain it. The face that looked down upon Castiel, solemn and rough and beautiful, was Nick's, as was the strong, thick body that held him. The imperfect vessel's skin was unnaturally warm to the touch, his form haloed in a glow where the archangel blazed through around the edges. Castiel could feel Lucifer's grace holding him firm, trapping him in an unbreakable cage of will and heat and light bounded by the immense, layered glory of the seraph's wings.
"Kill me if you like, I won't give up the Winchesters."
Lucifer laughed, open and loud from deep within Nick's belly.
"So simple, little one," he murmured, reaching up to stroke Castiel's cheek. "This isn't about them. Sam will be mine, in spite of the entire army of Heaven; the actions of one little angel -- if we can even call you that any longer -- aren't going to make a bit of difference."
Full lips curved into a smile at the perplexed expression on Castiel's face.
"You're here, Castiel, because I wanted to meet the newest addition to my rebel flock and give you a proper welcome."
Castiel opened his mouth to protest and was silenced by Lucifer raising a finger to his lips.
"It doesn't matter if you still align yourself with Heaven and are sworn to kill me. Heaven is hunting you, and you can only hide for so long - then it's either die or join me. You're mine just as certainly as Sammy is."
Castiel looked up at Lucifer, anger brightening the deep blue of his eyes. "I would rather cease to be."
Lucifer gazed at him as though he could see everything, down to the darkest hidden corners of Castiel's being. After a long minute, he scoffed, curling his lip as his eyes refocused on the figure in his arms.
"Stop pretending you can fight, that you have the strength to withstand me. You're all alone, and your grace is ebbing fast; I can see it trickling away by the second. You made this choice, Castiel; when you cut yourself off from Heaven, Hell became your only hope for survival. You've sacrificed everything -- you've even killed members of your own family -- and for what? Humans? Humans are weak, little brother, simpering, weak little worms, and with every shred of grace that leaves you, you're becoming more like them."
Lucifer bent his head, brushing his lips against the shell of Castiel's ear.
"It isn't just those emotions that make you weak, you know," he said in a low, resonant purr. "Once, when you were still pure you would rather have died than give in to me. The words are still on your lips, but this meat you're coated in has changed you. I can mold you, now. I can make you submit using less effort than it would take to lift a finger."
A hand tilted Castiel's chin up, then Lucifer's hot, insistent mouth was against his. Castiel could taste Heaven on the devil's lips -- ancient, intoxicating echoes of God himself -- with flickers of something deep and dark stirring beneath the surface. As Lucifer slid his tongue between Castiel's lips, Castiel could feel the archangel's grace probing at his own before snaring it and pulling it aside, eliminating the barrier between Castiel and his vessel. Desire, unlike anything Castiel had ever known these creatures could possibly feel slammed into him, igniting nerves he'd only been faintly aware of before and sending wave after wave of sharp, inexorable lust through his body. He reached up, tangling his fingers in Lucifer's hair and greedily returning the kiss before he realized what he was doing, and, more importantly, who he was doing it with. With a gasp, Castiel broke away, turning his face to the side.
"Oh, Castiel, you've been ignoring your vessel's needs. That won't do one bit - the poor thing is practically starving."
Lucifer dragged the palm of his hand over Castiel's crotch, outlining the evidence of the angel's arousal.
All thoughts of Lucifer and wrong and can't melted away; Castiel couldn't help tilting his hips up to meet the touch.
The archangel chuckled low in his throat before tearing Castiel's pants open and wrapping his hand around his erection.
Every muscle in Castiel's body tensed, lips parted in a wordless cry as Lucifer's hand stroked along his cock with slow, deliberate motions; curling his fingers around the thick base, dragging the pad of his thumb along the ridge of the head and exploring every inch of skin in-between. When Castiel's restraint had deterioriated enough to allow a soft, ragged groan to escape his throat, Lucifer inclined his head, inviting Castiel to close the distance between their lips.
Castiel hungrily reclaimed the contact he had turned away from, licking into Lucifer's mouth with deep, desperate strokes of his tongue. Lucifer returned the kiss with a passion that bordered on brutality; his hand never stopped moving, intensifying the sweet, heavy ache coiling between Castiel's thighs until the angel thought he might go mad.
Lucifer abruptly withdrew his mouth to bite down viciously on Castiel's earlobe, then soothe the spot with a wet drag of lips. When he spoke, the rush of breath against bruised, heated skin made Castiel shiver.
"I can read your mind, little brother, but for the sake of fun, let's play a guessing game."
Lucifer's timbre shifted into the brusque, throaty growl of Dean Winchester, "Would you rather hear this in your ear while I work your dick?"
"No? Perhaps something a bit..."
His tone smoothed and deepened to Sam's voice, adopting the familiar corrupt decay of demon blood that Castiel found so grating.
"darker would be more to your liking"
"Or maybe, just maybe, you want this," Lucifer said, true voice thundering, rumbling with energy and chaos and glory. Shock-waves from the archangel's grace ripped through Castiel, vibrating along every inch of him. Castiel jerked in Lucifer's arms as the Morningstar's grace explored his true form, curling along every soft shadow feathering Castiel's wings. As his body thrummed with power, dizzying, impossible power mixed with the essence of the second-most divine creature in all of creation, blood surged to Castiel's cock, thickening the hard length in Lucifer's grasp.
Mocking laughter echoed in Castiel's ears. The fingers gripping his dick tightened and twisted, tracing sigils of lust over the sensitive flesh.
"Come for me, little brother," Lucifer chanted in Enochian, using words Castiel hadn't known existed. The rough cadence of the syllables Lucifer repeated over and over again perfectly matched the rhythm of his hand along Castiel's shaft, lulling the angel into a state of intoxicated ecstasy. Castiel forgot the Winchesters, forgot the world, forgot everything but the ripple of Lucifer's grace ebbing and flowing against him, twining with the edges of his own as the pleasure within him built to the breaking point.
"Come."
Castiel clutched at Lucifer's shoulder, blunt fingernails biting down hard enough to break skin as the first tremors of release tore through him, months of pent-up need gushing hot and thick through Lucifer's fingers. The archangel's come-slick hand worked in time with Castiel's shudders to draw his orgasm out for what seemed like forever, painting the fabric of Castiel's shirt with viscous, sticky stripes. When the final spurts subsided, Lucifer's dripping fingers slid away. He said nothing, looking down at the shaking, pleasure-stunned angel with the faintest hint of a smile playing around the corners of his mouth.
With another rush of feathers, Castiel found himself alone in an alley with a pair of legs that didn't want to cooperate, an existential crisis to deal with and an obscenely biological mess to clean up.
Author: secondplatypus
Pairing: Castiel/Lucifer
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: conniving/evil!Lucifer, messy ejaculation, and a little dub-con that quickly turns to oh-yes-please-wrong-hot-con
Spoilers: none
Word count: 1324
Disclaimer:Supernatural and all characters therein are the property of Eric Kripke and the WB/CW, I'm just borrowing them for my own nefarious purposes
Summary: When Castiel is mojo-zapped into Lucifer's arms, he discovers what the Devil's hands can do.
Author's note:
- I know this is pretty common knowledge, but I'm adding this note to cover all my bases. The "Thursday" in the title is an homage the fact that Castiel is an angel of Thursday. There is very little lore on this angel, and the small quantity that exists is found in occult texts.
- Takes place after 5.04.
- as filthy as my other rounds_of_kink fic is... not filthy.
- Based on x_shadowwings_x's messy ejaculation prompt, "with a twist of a hand and the blink of an eye, I'll see what I can do to make you whine". I threw in an eensy smidgeon of dub-con, a heaping spoonful of grace play, and a dash of wing kink to spice things up a little.
- This was completed three and a half weeks ago, and was my first completed foray into a pairing other than Dean/Castiel. It's one of my three favorites -- if not my top favorite -- out of everything I've written so far, and I've been bouncing out of my skin waiting to post it. It isn't due until the sixteenth, but I'm impatient and I had a crappy night, so I deemed it fic-posting time. I really hope you enjoy it.
The last thing Castiel remembered before waking up in Lucifer's arms was the rush of countless feathers through air and a blinding flash.
The fallen one was half vessel, half true form; all fire and brilliant gold radiance poured into flesh that couldn't hope to contain it. The face that looked down upon Castiel, solemn and rough and beautiful, was Nick's, as was the strong, thick body that held him. The imperfect vessel's skin was unnaturally warm to the touch, his form haloed in a glow where the archangel blazed through around the edges. Castiel could feel Lucifer's grace holding him firm, trapping him in an unbreakable cage of will and heat and light bounded by the immense, layered glory of the seraph's wings.
"Kill me if you like, I won't give up the Winchesters."
Lucifer laughed, open and loud from deep within Nick's belly.
"So simple, little one," he murmured, reaching up to stroke Castiel's cheek. "This isn't about them. Sam will be mine, in spite of the entire army of Heaven; the actions of one little angel -- if we can even call you that any longer -- aren't going to make a bit of difference."
Full lips curved into a smile at the perplexed expression on Castiel's face.
"You're here, Castiel, because I wanted to meet the newest addition to my rebel flock and give you a proper welcome."
Castiel opened his mouth to protest and was silenced by Lucifer raising a finger to his lips.
"It doesn't matter if you still align yourself with Heaven and are sworn to kill me. Heaven is hunting you, and you can only hide for so long - then it's either die or join me. You're mine just as certainly as Sammy is."
Castiel looked up at Lucifer, anger brightening the deep blue of his eyes. "I would rather cease to be."
Lucifer gazed at him as though he could see everything, down to the darkest hidden corners of Castiel's being. After a long minute, he scoffed, curling his lip as his eyes refocused on the figure in his arms.
"Stop pretending you can fight, that you have the strength to withstand me. You're all alone, and your grace is ebbing fast; I can see it trickling away by the second. You made this choice, Castiel; when you cut yourself off from Heaven, Hell became your only hope for survival. You've sacrificed everything -- you've even killed members of your own family -- and for what? Humans? Humans are weak, little brother, simpering, weak little worms, and with every shred of grace that leaves you, you're becoming more like them."
Lucifer bent his head, brushing his lips against the shell of Castiel's ear.
"It isn't just those emotions that make you weak, you know," he said in a low, resonant purr. "Once, when you were still pure you would rather have died than give in to me. The words are still on your lips, but this meat you're coated in has changed you. I can mold you, now. I can make you submit using less effort than it would take to lift a finger."
A hand tilted Castiel's chin up, then Lucifer's hot, insistent mouth was against his. Castiel could taste Heaven on the devil's lips -- ancient, intoxicating echoes of God himself -- with flickers of something deep and dark stirring beneath the surface. As Lucifer slid his tongue between Castiel's lips, Castiel could feel the archangel's grace probing at his own before snaring it and pulling it aside, eliminating the barrier between Castiel and his vessel. Desire, unlike anything Castiel had ever known these creatures could possibly feel slammed into him, igniting nerves he'd only been faintly aware of before and sending wave after wave of sharp, inexorable lust through his body. He reached up, tangling his fingers in Lucifer's hair and greedily returning the kiss before he realized what he was doing, and, more importantly, who he was doing it with. With a gasp, Castiel broke away, turning his face to the side.
"Oh, Castiel, you've been ignoring your vessel's needs. That won't do one bit - the poor thing is practically starving."
Lucifer dragged the palm of his hand over Castiel's crotch, outlining the evidence of the angel's arousal.
All thoughts of Lucifer and wrong and can't melted away; Castiel couldn't help tilting his hips up to meet the touch.
The archangel chuckled low in his throat before tearing Castiel's pants open and wrapping his hand around his erection.
Every muscle in Castiel's body tensed, lips parted in a wordless cry as Lucifer's hand stroked along his cock with slow, deliberate motions; curling his fingers around the thick base, dragging the pad of his thumb along the ridge of the head and exploring every inch of skin in-between. When Castiel's restraint had deterioriated enough to allow a soft, ragged groan to escape his throat, Lucifer inclined his head, inviting Castiel to close the distance between their lips.
Castiel hungrily reclaimed the contact he had turned away from, licking into Lucifer's mouth with deep, desperate strokes of his tongue. Lucifer returned the kiss with a passion that bordered on brutality; his hand never stopped moving, intensifying the sweet, heavy ache coiling between Castiel's thighs until the angel thought he might go mad.
Lucifer abruptly withdrew his mouth to bite down viciously on Castiel's earlobe, then soothe the spot with a wet drag of lips. When he spoke, the rush of breath against bruised, heated skin made Castiel shiver.
"I can read your mind, little brother, but for the sake of fun, let's play a guessing game."
Lucifer's timbre shifted into the brusque, throaty growl of Dean Winchester, "Would you rather hear this in your ear while I work your dick?"
"No? Perhaps something a bit..."
His tone smoothed and deepened to Sam's voice, adopting the familiar corrupt decay of demon blood that Castiel found so grating.
"darker would be more to your liking"
"Or maybe, just maybe, you want this," Lucifer said, true voice thundering, rumbling with energy and chaos and glory. Shock-waves from the archangel's grace ripped through Castiel, vibrating along every inch of him. Castiel jerked in Lucifer's arms as the Morningstar's grace explored his true form, curling along every soft shadow feathering Castiel's wings. As his body thrummed with power, dizzying, impossible power mixed with the essence of the second-most divine creature in all of creation, blood surged to Castiel's cock, thickening the hard length in Lucifer's grasp.
Mocking laughter echoed in Castiel's ears. The fingers gripping his dick tightened and twisted, tracing sigils of lust over the sensitive flesh.
"Come for me, little brother," Lucifer chanted in Enochian, using words Castiel hadn't known existed. The rough cadence of the syllables Lucifer repeated over and over again perfectly matched the rhythm of his hand along Castiel's shaft, lulling the angel into a state of intoxicated ecstasy. Castiel forgot the Winchesters, forgot the world, forgot everything but the ripple of Lucifer's grace ebbing and flowing against him, twining with the edges of his own as the pleasure within him built to the breaking point.
"Come."
Castiel clutched at Lucifer's shoulder, blunt fingernails biting down hard enough to break skin as the first tremors of release tore through him, months of pent-up need gushing hot and thick through Lucifer's fingers. The archangel's come-slick hand worked in time with Castiel's shudders to draw his orgasm out for what seemed like forever, painting the fabric of Castiel's shirt with viscous, sticky stripes. When the final spurts subsided, Lucifer's dripping fingers slid away. He said nothing, looking down at the shaking, pleasure-stunned angel with the faintest hint of a smile playing around the corners of his mouth.
With another rush of feathers, Castiel found himself alone in an alley with a pair of legs that didn't want to cooperate, an existential crisis to deal with and an obscenely biological mess to clean up.