Pairing : Leviathan!Castiel/Dean
Warnings : bondage, non-con, abuse, etc.
Note : (sorry i’m late) HAPPY BIRTHDAY TANIA you’re gross and cute and i love you (◡‿◡✿)
The grin is wide, too wide, splitting his face in two from one ear to the other, streching his chapped lips, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth coated with dried blood and black goo.
Dean’s eyes are wide opened too, lined with tears that stay in his eyelashes. He can’t help but look, but stare, and Castiel smiles even more - he didn’t think it was possible but it is. He knows it’s not Cas but it has his body, his face and his hands - they’re on Dean’s skin, not bothering to be gentle, smearing the blood on his jaw and the saliva on his chin. Dean sees the glint in the dead blue eyes, revived for one moment at the sight of the red cracks that cross the purple and blue bruises that bloom everywhere on him : his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his clavicles, every sharp angle of his body. Dean sees the glint and he knows it’s there because Castiel did all of that to him and is admiring his work. He chuckles and it rings like metal to Dean’s ears, like the clanking of the chains that shakle him to the wall, attached to leather cuffs that burn his wrists, like a second layer of skin that chafes the first.
Dean doesn’t have the energy to even stir, dizzy with pain as he is. Cas is now hoisting Dean up and Dean would shout at the angle his shoulders are forced to take but he can’t. Instead, his tongue pushes against the ball gag and the sound is muffled. He drools helplessly, making his lips glistening aroung the rubber ball. The posture collar, so tight around his neck that he can barely breathe, forces him to look up at Castiel’s pleased expression. Dean’s whole body hurts; his skin raw, his articulations howling, his knees scraped by the dry stone floor, even through the black stockings he was put in. Cas is loosening his tie, having already removed the trenchcoat and the jacket. He crouches in front of Dean, eyes fixed on his chest. He must find it too untainted because in a brisk movement of the hand that’s not holding the blue tie, his fingernails scratch three crimson slashes across it, one too close to his nipple, and the air immediately stings the wounds. Dean tries to scream again, but the noise, once more, doesn’t pass the barrier of his lips and he almost chokes on his saliva. Tears prickle his eyes as they start falling from the corner of them, wetting the leather straps of the ball gag. He’s shaking, muscles screaming for him.
"Don’t look at me like that", Castiel sneers, mere inches from his face.
He holds up the tie, places it before Dean’s eyes, and binds it behind his head. Dean’s vision is nothing but a blue-ish darkness. He closes his eyes and cries silently against the improvised blindfold, soaking it, the sobs stuck in his throat suffocating him.
Castiel’s fingers busy themselves against the ball gag’s straps and remove it, letting it fall to the ground with a dull sound. Dean’s mouth goes slack, and his chest heaves with the deep intakes of breath he suddenly can fill himself with. Dean hears the sleek sound of an unnatural smile, the teeth sliding against each other, and without a warning he feels those plunging in his shoulder like a thousand needles burying themselves in his flesh, and he yells at the top of his lungs, voice already hoarse and broken. He feels each tooth withdraw from his now maimed shoulder; feels each tiny wound throb.
"Just wanted to know how you scream", Castiel sing-songs, and he puts a thumb against Dean’s bottom row of teeth, pushing against the swollen lip. Dean wants to bite him but he doesn’t have the energy to.
He senses Castiel moving, standing up. He places one foot between Dean’s thighs, leg pressing against his crotch.
"Looks like you get off on this after all, hmm ?" He crushes a bit more Dean’s half-hard cock covered by silk black panties - the only soft feeling on his skin - whose red lace and bow tickle him lightly.
Dean tries to mutter “go fuck yourself”, but he doesn’t even come close to mouthing it.
"Stop talking. I have other plans for your mouth", Castiel mock-scolds him, and Dean hears a zipping sound.
He knows, of course, what it is when it touches his lips. The tip of Cas’s cock is slick and Cas only has to force a little for Dean’s mouth to open effortlessly around it. Dean squeezes his eyes shut, sticking his tongue on the bottom of his mouth, but Castiel relentlessly continues to shove his cock. Saliva and precome drip from Dean’s stretched lush lips, to his chin, falling on his chest, drops rolling on the wounds. He feels fingers raking through his scalp, a hand fisting to pull his hair like it wants to tear it off. His throat convulses with the urge to gag. The overwhelming pain burns his eyes that keep on shedding hot tears. He flinches when drops of something sticky fall on his cheeks and forehead - black goo, he guesses, because Castiel is laughing above him. He’s fucking Dean’s mouth hard, thrusting and then withdrawing just before Dean has the reflex to gag. The movement becomes more frantic, and Dean really thinks he’s gonna choke, when suddenly his mouth is empty and Castiel comes on his face, warm and viscous drops dribbling and mingling with the red and black already smeared all over his freckled skin. Dean coughs because some landed on his tongue and he dreads; dreads what’s yet to come, but Castiel’s feet shift and Dean’s at once very cold. He hears the zipping up and the steps retreating in the distance, leaving him, the silence surrounding them deafening.