Fic: Prisoner of Love (3/?)
Title: Prisoner of Love (3/?)
Author: snowin’ you
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: None
Warnings: M/M non-con situations, coarse languages
Word Count: 2,255 / 6,097
Summary: Prison AU. Castiel is a new convict and a new cellmate to dormant Dean Winchester, who turns savage in the dead of the night.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or its characters.
A/N: Thank you for the overwhelming responses and I’m so sorry for the slow update. To make up for it, this chapter has been beta’d. Hooray! Big thanks to phaelsafe for her help. Also, a special thanks to divemyself for her ‘educational’ support. Please kindly note the increased warnings and don’t forget I welcome all kinds of feedback!
[ Masterpost ]
~:~:~
Castiel was lost in thought when Chuck threw his food tray down in front of him, making Cas jump. "I see you stopped eating," Chuck commented, flopping down on the opposite chair.
Castiel apathetically picked at his food. He had lost his appetite and couldn't take a single bite. Hell, he even lost his will to live. "I want to stop breathing," he mumbled meekly.
"Touché. Touché," Chuck grunted, gobbling up his food as though it would disappear before his eyes.
Cas' mind drifted back to the events of last night. He had never felt another guy's dick before. He had always been so sure he was a straight man, but the friction was... maddening was an understatement. The memory of Dean groaning still made him shiver-
No, he was so not gay.
"I want to die," Castiel continued with a sigh. It was embarrassing, being harassed by another guy; and, worse still, that he couldn't keep his mind off it.
"Yea, prison suicide, try that," Chuck said around a mouthful of bread, spitting crumbs as he snorted. "Make sure you succeed, or you'll wish you were dead."
Castiel sighed again, long and heavy, watching with morbid curiosity as Chuck shoveled the tasteless prison food down his throat with the enthusiasm of a pig. He frowned. "How do you even survive in this place?"
"I see things," Chuck replied with a nonchalant shrug.
Of course the reply made Castiel's frown deepen. "What do you mean you see things?"
"I see things means I see things. Am I speaking Chinese?"
Ignoring Chuck's irritation, Castiel continued, "Like a psychic?"
"Meh," Chuck responded with another shrug. "So, unless you have some kind of supernatural power, I suggest you grow a pair and start fighting back."
Castiel cringed. He was never one for violence. "But I don't know how to fight," Cas said sheepishly.
Chuck just nodded. "See that guy sucking a lollipop over there?" he said after he had finished chewing, pointing to a small guy with slicked-back hair and a wide forehead. "His name's Gabriel. He's one of the top fighters here. He'll teach you."
Castiel watched as Gabriel joked and laughed with two taller guys, deepening the friendly creases on his face. He didn't seem much of a fighter, but what Castiel found more questionable was "Why would he do that?"
Besides Chuck, nobody had really bothered to come near Castiel, let alone talk to him.
"Because he will," Chuck replied flatly as he got up, collecting his empty tray before walking away.
~:~:~
When afternoon rec time came around, Castiel mustered up his courage and walked straight over to where Gabriel and the two guys from earlier were busy grappling shirtless. He glanced over at Dean's usual spot across the field. A small crowd of people was cheering Dean on as he hoisted himself up a salmon ladder.
"So this is the face that launches a thousand ships." Gabriel stopped what he was doing and approached Castiel with a sneer.
"Gabriel," Castiel greeted with a tentative nod, trying not to look taken aback.
"What can I do for you, Queen of Sparta?" Gabriel smirked as his entourage snickered, rising to stand like brick walls on either side of the shorter man.
Castiel squinted up at them; then narrowed his eyes back at Gabriel. He stepped in closer, lifting his chin with determination. "You call me Queen again and I'll rip your ovaries out with my bare hands."
Tall and Taller threw their heads back, howling with laughter. Gabriel just chuckled in Castiel's face. "And here I thought you only had a big mouth when Dean was fucking it."
Castiel felt his blood boil. His hand clenched, and he hauled his fist back, ready to throw the first punch, when arms suddenly grasped him from behind. One of Gabriel's men had him trapped in a bear hug. His arms were locked tightly against his chest by the much stronger arms around him, and he tried to wrench free from the hold to no avail.
Gabriel clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Moan like a pussy, buck like a filly."
Growling, Castiel hauled his legs up and tried to kick out at Gabriel, who easily stepped out of the way.
"Be still!" Gabriel roared, his voice full of authority and power that could quiet even the restless howling of wolves.
Castiel halted, his nose flaring with rage. Sweat beaded upon his brow from the exertion, and the arms still holding him raised the heat, adding to Castiel's frustration.
"When you are grabbed," Gabriel continued, his tone abruptly solemn. "Don't panic. Remain calm and think. Don't think about where you've been locked. Think of where you're free." Castiel blinked, suddenly realizing that Gabriel was, in fact, giving him a lesson. "Your legs are free; your hands are free; your head is free. Use them."
Castiel remained stumped.
"Now watch." As soon as Gabriel spoke, his other lackey grabbed him in the same hold that Castiel was currently restrained by. Gabriel smashed his foot against the man's knee, and the other man lost his grip. Then, Gabriel whacked his head backward, swinging out of the hold and around to kick the guy in the stomach.
Castiel wasn't sure he followed that.
"Your turn."
~:~:~
For the rest of the day, Castiel was elated. Gabriel turned out to be quite a good teacher and Castiel had practiced a few self-defense tricks, as many as the short rec time allowed. When nighttime fell, Castiel's whole body ached, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't fall prey to Dean Winchester again tonight.
He avoided his bed and settled on the floor on the other side of the room. Castiel braced his back against the wall, determined not to fall asleep.
Dean Winchester stood before him not long after anyway.
"Didn't know you prefer getting off on the floor," Dean leered.
Cas stood up in defiance, glaring at Dean through the dim light.
Dean's lips spread into a sly smile. "I see you've taken some lessons today."
Castiel took another step closer when a stupid realization hit him. Gabriel had only taught him how to fend off an attack from behind. He had no idea what to do if his attacker was coming at him from the front.
"I won't let you take advantage of me again, Dean." Castiel lowered his voice, displaying a confidence he didn't really have.
In response, Dean simply smirked.
Easily catching the punch Cas throws at him, Dean twists Castiel's arm around then shoves him harshly into the cell bars with a loud clang, clutching at the other man's wrists from behind.
Instantly Castiel applied what he had learned earlier. He tried to stomp on Dean's foot, but Dean drew back in a flash. He used his head, but Dean also gracefully dodged away. When Castiel turned, he was pinned back against the bars with such force and precision that any chance of gaining his freedom was lost as Dean pressed in close, body to body.
"Now that's my boy," Dean purred into Castiel's ear, tying his wrists behind the bars with some cloth. "You'd probably survive the streets of, I don't know, Colorado?"
Castiel growled, writhing wildly against the binding only to find he was held fast. Dean took a few steps back slowly, carefully holding up his hands as if to imply he meant no harm.
"As a reward," Dean said with a wicked smile. He grabbed the hem of his scrub top and pulled it over his head, tossing the orange piece of cloth to the floor, revealing his finely toned muscles that glowed in the dim bluish light. Prison bars cast blasphemous shadows across his chest and the diabolic, sun-like tattoo that was branded on it.
"Like what you see, don't you?" said Dean with a seductive smile.
Castiel broke from his trance. He licked his lips, his blue eyes boring into enticing greens. "Dean," he called, his voice low and quivering, "I want to kiss you."
Never breaking eye contact, Dean edged slowly closer until he was once again pressed to Castiel, their noses grazing as they shared the same hot air. Cas' breath hitched as Dean rested his hands on his hipbones, swaying his hips ever so slightly. Dean brushed his lips over Cas', a light touch that roused the deepest longings of the heart. Castiel darted his tongue out, licking across Dean's lips, asking for access he had not yet been granted.
"And risk having my tongue bitten off? I don't think so," said Dean, pulling away.
Castiel dropped his head dejectedly. There went another attempt to get back at Dean.
"You see," Dean continued in his hawkish demeanor, "I still need it when I suck you off." Castiel yelped as Dean suddenly grabbed his dick. He shuddered when Dean palmed him, kneading him through the thin fabric of his pants. "I still need it when I drag my tongue, hot and wet, along the underside of your cock." As a demonstration, Dean dragged his finger from root to tip. It took all of Cas' effort not to whimper at the touch.
Dean slipped his hand under the waistband, fingers curling around Cas' hard-on as he purred, "When I close my lips around you, Cas," he said sliding his thumb over Castiel's flared head, smearing creamy pre-cum, "I need my tongue to support your big, fat cock as it hits the back of my throat."
Castiel closed his eyes, swallowing his groan.
"Look at me," Dean ordered and Castiel's eyes fluttered back open. Dean's lips were a mere breath away.
"Don't you wanna fuck my mouth, Cas?" Dean purred over Cas' lips. "My fuckable lips will stretch around you, make you throb painfully; and I will suck you so hard you'll be begging me to make you come."
Castiel was now trembling in Dean's hands, under Dean's voice. "And if you're a good boy," Dean went on, "I'll let you come on my chest." Castiel growled at the image that crept treacherously into his mind. "What do you say, huh, Cas? Do you want to paint my pretty chest with your cum?"
Cas was pitifully shaking within his bonds. "No," he answered, his voice cracking. "Dean, please stop."
"No?" Dean pulled back with a small frown. "I'm hurt."
With that Dean promptly dropped to his knees, shoving Castiel's pants down to his ankles and swallowing his cock straight down. Castiel screamed at the sudden heat around him, the sound of hard sucking echoing through the cell. Castiel stiffened, controlling his hips as best as he possibly could despite the overwhelming insanity.
Frustrated, Dean groaned in his throat and pulled off. "Let it go, Cas," he said sternly, looking up at Castiel. "Fuck me."
Cas threw his head back and suppressed his groans as Dean resumed his task. One of Dean's hands reached up to rub at Castiel's nipple, the other cupping his ass, squeezing it, before crushing his hips onto Dean's face. Once his cock slid down Dean's throat, Cas snapped, his hips thrusting violently of their own accord. He wished his hands weren't bound. He'd love to grab at Dean's hair as he fucked his mouth like a filthy cock slut that he was.
Soon enough, Castiel found he didn't need the use of his hands as Dean met all of his thrusts with ease. He slammed into the back of Dean's throat, over and over again; his mind spinning as he brokenly repeated Dean's name. Each time, Dean returned with throaty moans that vibrated across Castiel's throbbing nerves. Dean popped off and replaced his mouth with his hand at the final thrust. Castiel roared as he spurted fiercely, Dean's skillful fingers milking him through his orgasm.
"See how hot you are, Cas?"
Exhausted, Cas opened his eyes to find Dean sitting back on his heels, his knees spread wide. Thick stripes of white streaked across Dean's tanned chest. His toned muscles glistened with sweat, and his face was flushed, his lips swollen and red.
Dean Winchester was divinely beautiful.
After Dean let Castiel indulge in the sight, he got up and grabbed a towel from Cas' bed. He wet it down in the little sink and cleaned himself up before tossing it over Castiel's head. He said his goodnight and Castiel was left standing there, tied to the bars as Dean climbed back up onto his bunk.
Castiel slowly cooled down from his high. The towel hung loosely around his head, blocking his view. It smelled faintly of his own semen and Dean's sweat, and Castiel felt nauseated. He wanted to throw up at himself, at how sick he had become, how he had brutalized Dean, used Dean for his own pleasure like a wild animal.
He swore he would not let it happen again. He would not let Dean Winchester take control over him ever again.
~:~:~
Castiel felt his hands untied and he was braced against a shoulder. He continued to feign sleep as Dean carried him gently back to bed. As he lay there, a weight dropped beside him; then a hand softly caressed his hair. He felt Dean's lips pressed to his, lingering there until a drop of water landed upon his cheek.
With a mumbled, "I'm sorry," Dean hurried back to his own bunk.
Castiel opened his eyes in the dark, wiping the teardrop away with his finger. It was all too fucked up for him to even try to grasp what was going on.
~:~:~
A/N: Yes, the famous salmon ladder Oliver Queen climbed up in CW Arrow's pilot episode. My Dean could do that. ;)
A/N2: If you've read this far, thank you! I'd like to send my lovely flists and lurkers a Christmas card. Please check the other post in my journal for details!
- TBC
Author: snowin’ you
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: None
Warnings: M/M non-con situations, coarse languages
Word Count: 2,255 / 6,097
Summary: Prison AU. Castiel is a new convict and a new cellmate to dormant Dean Winchester, who turns savage in the dead of the night.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or its characters.
A/N: Thank you for the overwhelming responses and I’m so sorry for the slow update. To make up for it, this chapter has been beta’d. Hooray! Big thanks to phaelsafe for her help. Also, a special thanks to divemyself for her ‘educational’ support. Please kindly note the increased warnings and don’t forget I welcome all kinds of feedback!
[ Masterpost ]
~:~:~
Castiel was lost in thought when Chuck threw his food tray down in front of him, making Cas jump. "I see you stopped eating," Chuck commented, flopping down on the opposite chair.
Castiel apathetically picked at his food. He had lost his appetite and couldn't take a single bite. Hell, he even lost his will to live. "I want to stop breathing," he mumbled meekly.
"Touché. Touché," Chuck grunted, gobbling up his food as though it would disappear before his eyes.
Cas' mind drifted back to the events of last night. He had never felt another guy's dick before. He had always been so sure he was a straight man, but the friction was... maddening was an understatement. The memory of Dean groaning still made him shiver-
No, he was so not gay.
"I want to die," Castiel continued with a sigh. It was embarrassing, being harassed by another guy; and, worse still, that he couldn't keep his mind off it.
"Yea, prison suicide, try that," Chuck said around a mouthful of bread, spitting crumbs as he snorted. "Make sure you succeed, or you'll wish you were dead."
Castiel sighed again, long and heavy, watching with morbid curiosity as Chuck shoveled the tasteless prison food down his throat with the enthusiasm of a pig. He frowned. "How do you even survive in this place?"
"I see things," Chuck replied with a nonchalant shrug.
Of course the reply made Castiel's frown deepen. "What do you mean you see things?"
"I see things means I see things. Am I speaking Chinese?"
Ignoring Chuck's irritation, Castiel continued, "Like a psychic?"
"Meh," Chuck responded with another shrug. "So, unless you have some kind of supernatural power, I suggest you grow a pair and start fighting back."
Castiel cringed. He was never one for violence. "But I don't know how to fight," Cas said sheepishly.
Chuck just nodded. "See that guy sucking a lollipop over there?" he said after he had finished chewing, pointing to a small guy with slicked-back hair and a wide forehead. "His name's Gabriel. He's one of the top fighters here. He'll teach you."
Castiel watched as Gabriel joked and laughed with two taller guys, deepening the friendly creases on his face. He didn't seem much of a fighter, but what Castiel found more questionable was "Why would he do that?"
Besides Chuck, nobody had really bothered to come near Castiel, let alone talk to him.
"Because he will," Chuck replied flatly as he got up, collecting his empty tray before walking away.
~:~:~
When afternoon rec time came around, Castiel mustered up his courage and walked straight over to where Gabriel and the two guys from earlier were busy grappling shirtless. He glanced over at Dean's usual spot across the field. A small crowd of people was cheering Dean on as he hoisted himself up a salmon ladder.
"So this is the face that launches a thousand ships." Gabriel stopped what he was doing and approached Castiel with a sneer.
"Gabriel," Castiel greeted with a tentative nod, trying not to look taken aback.
"What can I do for you, Queen of Sparta?" Gabriel smirked as his entourage snickered, rising to stand like brick walls on either side of the shorter man.
Castiel squinted up at them; then narrowed his eyes back at Gabriel. He stepped in closer, lifting his chin with determination. "You call me Queen again and I'll rip your ovaries out with my bare hands."
Tall and Taller threw their heads back, howling with laughter. Gabriel just chuckled in Castiel's face. "And here I thought you only had a big mouth when Dean was fucking it."
Castiel felt his blood boil. His hand clenched, and he hauled his fist back, ready to throw the first punch, when arms suddenly grasped him from behind. One of Gabriel's men had him trapped in a bear hug. His arms were locked tightly against his chest by the much stronger arms around him, and he tried to wrench free from the hold to no avail.
Gabriel clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Moan like a pussy, buck like a filly."
Growling, Castiel hauled his legs up and tried to kick out at Gabriel, who easily stepped out of the way.
"Be still!" Gabriel roared, his voice full of authority and power that could quiet even the restless howling of wolves.
Castiel halted, his nose flaring with rage. Sweat beaded upon his brow from the exertion, and the arms still holding him raised the heat, adding to Castiel's frustration.
"When you are grabbed," Gabriel continued, his tone abruptly solemn. "Don't panic. Remain calm and think. Don't think about where you've been locked. Think of where you're free." Castiel blinked, suddenly realizing that Gabriel was, in fact, giving him a lesson. "Your legs are free; your hands are free; your head is free. Use them."
Castiel remained stumped.
"Now watch." As soon as Gabriel spoke, his other lackey grabbed him in the same hold that Castiel was currently restrained by. Gabriel smashed his foot against the man's knee, and the other man lost his grip. Then, Gabriel whacked his head backward, swinging out of the hold and around to kick the guy in the stomach.
Castiel wasn't sure he followed that.
"Your turn."
~:~:~
For the rest of the day, Castiel was elated. Gabriel turned out to be quite a good teacher and Castiel had practiced a few self-defense tricks, as many as the short rec time allowed. When nighttime fell, Castiel's whole body ached, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't fall prey to Dean Winchester again tonight.
He avoided his bed and settled on the floor on the other side of the room. Castiel braced his back against the wall, determined not to fall asleep.
Dean Winchester stood before him not long after anyway.
"Didn't know you prefer getting off on the floor," Dean leered.
Cas stood up in defiance, glaring at Dean through the dim light.
Dean's lips spread into a sly smile. "I see you've taken some lessons today."
Castiel took another step closer when a stupid realization hit him. Gabriel had only taught him how to fend off an attack from behind. He had no idea what to do if his attacker was coming at him from the front.
"I won't let you take advantage of me again, Dean." Castiel lowered his voice, displaying a confidence he didn't really have.
In response, Dean simply smirked.
Easily catching the punch Cas throws at him, Dean twists Castiel's arm around then shoves him harshly into the cell bars with a loud clang, clutching at the other man's wrists from behind.
Instantly Castiel applied what he had learned earlier. He tried to stomp on Dean's foot, but Dean drew back in a flash. He used his head, but Dean also gracefully dodged away. When Castiel turned, he was pinned back against the bars with such force and precision that any chance of gaining his freedom was lost as Dean pressed in close, body to body.
"Now that's my boy," Dean purred into Castiel's ear, tying his wrists behind the bars with some cloth. "You'd probably survive the streets of, I don't know, Colorado?"
Castiel growled, writhing wildly against the binding only to find he was held fast. Dean took a few steps back slowly, carefully holding up his hands as if to imply he meant no harm.
"As a reward," Dean said with a wicked smile. He grabbed the hem of his scrub top and pulled it over his head, tossing the orange piece of cloth to the floor, revealing his finely toned muscles that glowed in the dim bluish light. Prison bars cast blasphemous shadows across his chest and the diabolic, sun-like tattoo that was branded on it.
"Like what you see, don't you?" said Dean with a seductive smile.
Castiel broke from his trance. He licked his lips, his blue eyes boring into enticing greens. "Dean," he called, his voice low and quivering, "I want to kiss you."
Never breaking eye contact, Dean edged slowly closer until he was once again pressed to Castiel, their noses grazing as they shared the same hot air. Cas' breath hitched as Dean rested his hands on his hipbones, swaying his hips ever so slightly. Dean brushed his lips over Cas', a light touch that roused the deepest longings of the heart. Castiel darted his tongue out, licking across Dean's lips, asking for access he had not yet been granted.
"And risk having my tongue bitten off? I don't think so," said Dean, pulling away.
Castiel dropped his head dejectedly. There went another attempt to get back at Dean.
"You see," Dean continued in his hawkish demeanor, "I still need it when I suck you off." Castiel yelped as Dean suddenly grabbed his dick. He shuddered when Dean palmed him, kneading him through the thin fabric of his pants. "I still need it when I drag my tongue, hot and wet, along the underside of your cock." As a demonstration, Dean dragged his finger from root to tip. It took all of Cas' effort not to whimper at the touch.
Dean slipped his hand under the waistband, fingers curling around Cas' hard-on as he purred, "When I close my lips around you, Cas," he said sliding his thumb over Castiel's flared head, smearing creamy pre-cum, "I need my tongue to support your big, fat cock as it hits the back of my throat."
Castiel closed his eyes, swallowing his groan.
"Look at me," Dean ordered and Castiel's eyes fluttered back open. Dean's lips were a mere breath away.
"Don't you wanna fuck my mouth, Cas?" Dean purred over Cas' lips. "My fuckable lips will stretch around you, make you throb painfully; and I will suck you so hard you'll be begging me to make you come."
Castiel was now trembling in Dean's hands, under Dean's voice. "And if you're a good boy," Dean went on, "I'll let you come on my chest." Castiel growled at the image that crept treacherously into his mind. "What do you say, huh, Cas? Do you want to paint my pretty chest with your cum?"
Cas was pitifully shaking within his bonds. "No," he answered, his voice cracking. "Dean, please stop."
"No?" Dean pulled back with a small frown. "I'm hurt."
With that Dean promptly dropped to his knees, shoving Castiel's pants down to his ankles and swallowing his cock straight down. Castiel screamed at the sudden heat around him, the sound of hard sucking echoing through the cell. Castiel stiffened, controlling his hips as best as he possibly could despite the overwhelming insanity.
Frustrated, Dean groaned in his throat and pulled off. "Let it go, Cas," he said sternly, looking up at Castiel. "Fuck me."
Cas threw his head back and suppressed his groans as Dean resumed his task. One of Dean's hands reached up to rub at Castiel's nipple, the other cupping his ass, squeezing it, before crushing his hips onto Dean's face. Once his cock slid down Dean's throat, Cas snapped, his hips thrusting violently of their own accord. He wished his hands weren't bound. He'd love to grab at Dean's hair as he fucked his mouth like a filthy cock slut that he was.
Soon enough, Castiel found he didn't need the use of his hands as Dean met all of his thrusts with ease. He slammed into the back of Dean's throat, over and over again; his mind spinning as he brokenly repeated Dean's name. Each time, Dean returned with throaty moans that vibrated across Castiel's throbbing nerves. Dean popped off and replaced his mouth with his hand at the final thrust. Castiel roared as he spurted fiercely, Dean's skillful fingers milking him through his orgasm.
"See how hot you are, Cas?"
Exhausted, Cas opened his eyes to find Dean sitting back on his heels, his knees spread wide. Thick stripes of white streaked across Dean's tanned chest. His toned muscles glistened with sweat, and his face was flushed, his lips swollen and red.
Dean Winchester was divinely beautiful.
After Dean let Castiel indulge in the sight, he got up and grabbed a towel from Cas' bed. He wet it down in the little sink and cleaned himself up before tossing it over Castiel's head. He said his goodnight and Castiel was left standing there, tied to the bars as Dean climbed back up onto his bunk.
Castiel slowly cooled down from his high. The towel hung loosely around his head, blocking his view. It smelled faintly of his own semen and Dean's sweat, and Castiel felt nauseated. He wanted to throw up at himself, at how sick he had become, how he had brutalized Dean, used Dean for his own pleasure like a wild animal.
He swore he would not let it happen again. He would not let Dean Winchester take control over him ever again.
~:~:~
Castiel felt his hands untied and he was braced against a shoulder. He continued to feign sleep as Dean carried him gently back to bed. As he lay there, a weight dropped beside him; then a hand softly caressed his hair. He felt Dean's lips pressed to his, lingering there until a drop of water landed upon his cheek.
With a mumbled, "I'm sorry," Dean hurried back to his own bunk.
Castiel opened his eyes in the dark, wiping the teardrop away with his finger. It was all too fucked up for him to even try to grasp what was going on.
~:~:~
A/N: Yes, the famous salmon ladder Oliver Queen climbed up in CW Arrow's pilot episode. My Dean could do that. ;)
A/N2: If you've read this far, thank you! I'd like to send my lovely flists and lurkers a Christmas card. Please check the other post in my journal for details!
- TBC