He had found enough time afterwards to get to the control room and see what the situation really was, what tunnels his guests had used, how many there were. The poor dogs were probably dead or worse for the wear upstairs— he decides he ought to find a Crossroads Demon and do some bartering for a hellhound or two— and he types a few things up in the computer to open the right doors for his escape route, but then he sees something on one of the monitors. A young woman.
He doesn’t remember dragging any women to the compound in the past couple of days. He’s been too busy planning. She’s peculiar too. Just looking at her makes him wonder. To satisfy his curiosity, he closes his eyes for a moment, then shifts into her. Memories flood in— then— aha…. Nothing of the present. Meaning she’s someone’s meatsuit. Most likely a demon, and as he shifts back into Dean’s form he chuckles.
He slips out of the control room and makes his way down the hall, his footfalls eerily silent, before he’s found her and slowly stalks over to her. If she’s a demon there’s the chance she just might sense him. But it all depends on the demon. They’re like humans, still, very much— some are sharper than a tack and others are just hulking rocks that get in one’s way.
In the next three steps to her, he has a knife out in his hand and has slightly crouched. He pounces for the attack and brings the knife around to her neck, clapping a hand over her mouth, his grin evident in his voice as he murmurs in her ear huskily. “I’d hate to ruin this new outfit for you, demon, so listen and don’t struggle. Maybe we can help each other, hm?”
Ruby felt someone was following her. Whatever it was, it wasn’t human. She could feel humans. She decided to continue walking in the others’ direction, but stopped shouting and whining. She had to admit she was surprised to see the thing was in Dean’s form, and she grinned when it lunged towards her. She allowed it to pin her against the wall, to cover her mouth and to pull out a knife… a regular knife. Maybe a silver knife. Nothing that could harm her. She let it talk. Demon. It knew what she was. When it was finally done talking she used her power against him, first to remove its hand from her mouth “Help each other?” she asked sarcastically, making him move the knife away from her throat and towards his. “Don’t put a knife to my neck and then we can talk”
She looked into his eyes for a few seconds. It would be so easy to throw him across the corridor and just leave him there, but he had a point. Maybe they could help each other. Or she could take advantage of what he knew anyway. One was never too cautious when working with the Winchesters.
She let the energy she was using to keep the shifter’s hands away from her fade away. “Don’t do that again” she told him, eyeing the knife. “What do you want from me? And what’s more important, what can I get from you?”
He slowly brings the knife down, displeased with her abilities, but not overly shocked. Witchcraft and demons weren’t rare, but when the demon actually knew what they were doing, it could be volatile. He tilts his head to the side and observes her curiously before retorting with a question of his own. “What do you want with the Winchesters? And even though you’re a demon, I’m pretty good at figuring out when I’m being lied to.”
“I’ll help you play the victim, if you like. They’d buy it if they actually saw that I’ve attacked you.” He eyes her curiously, trying to figure it out for himself through pure observation as to why this demon wants the Winchesters. Most likely she wants them dead because they’re just infamous pains in the ass for anything and anyone who isn’t human.
(Source: blondebottlerocket)
Lex flinches when a gun goes off and is glad the tall man was pulled out of harms way. She can’t help but cringe, though, when she sees what lies on the other side of the door.
She knew shifters could be horrible but this was something she hadn’t seen in a very long time. Lex has to breathe through her mouth so the smell doesn’t clog her nose. She hesitantly walks in, watching as the tall man grabs a silver knife and cuts the man, ‘Dean’, with it. Lex glances around for the shifter but doesn’t see him for the moment.
Not him. Dean was begging. He probably thought Sam was the shifter. Which meant that was not the shifter. It really was Dean. Ruby considered showing up, just to let him know, but she could handle Dean suffering just a little bit more. And what was she going to say, anyway? Sam was a big boy, he would figure it out on his own. Also, the flesh didn’t sizzle. Then Ruby had an idea. She still needed to make her entrance, have Dean get used to having her around, And in this new vessel and in this situation, it might even be easier than she had anticipated.
No one knew who she was. She was covered in blood. She could just pretend to be another victim of the shifter, and she could go through the tests. She was not a shifter. A silver knife wouldn’t harm her. Ruby smiled to herself. She did have good ideas once in a while.
She ran back a couple hundred meters, concentrated for a moment and started crying. By the time she was done, she was shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. She started shouting for the rest of them to hear “Hello? Is anybody there?” slipping a quick sob here and there to sound more vulnerable, she kept shouting out things like “Please help, me!” and started walking towards them.
He had found enough time afterwards to get to the control room and see what the situation really was, what tunnels his guests had used, how many there were. The poor dogs were probably dead or worse for the wear upstairs— he decides he ought to find a Crossroads Demon and do some bartering for a hellhound or two— and he types a few things up in the computer to open the right doors for his escape route, but then he sees something on one of the monitors. A young woman.
He doesn’t remember dragging any women to the compound in the past couple of days. He’s been too busy planning. She’s peculiar too. Just looking at her makes him wonder. To satisfy his curiosity, he closes his eyes for a moment, then shifts into her. Memories flood in— then— aha…. Nothing of the present. Meaning she’s someone’s meatsuit. Most likely a demon, and as he shifts back into Dean’s form he chuckles.
He slips out of the control room and makes his way down the hall, his footfalls eerily silent, before he’s found her and slowly stalks over to her. If she’s a demon there’s the chance she just might sense him. But it all depends on the demon. They’re like humans, still, very much— some are sharper than a tack and others are just hulking rocks that get in one’s way.
In the next three steps to her, he has a knife out in his hand and has slightly crouched. He pounces for the attack and brings the knife around to her neck, clapping a hand over her mouth, his grin evident in his voice as he murmurs in her ear huskily. “I’d hate to ruin this new outfit for you, demon, so listen and don’t struggle. Maybe we can help each other, hm?”
(Source: blondebottlerocket)
————-
He moans into the shifter’s mouth, feeling the scrape of stubble against his skin. No, this definitely wasn’t his own body anymore, the mouth and smell was different. Different but familiar. Dean still couldn’t figure out who it was the shifter was impersonating but Dean was at least familiar enough with the person to recognize the smell of him.
“Uhngh!” he says as the shifter’s teeth bite down on his bottom lip and he feels his cock twitch at the slight sting.
Dean is busy moaning with the pleasure of having the shifter’s cock slam into him hard and fast, making him rock back and forth a little on the chair, and he almost misses when one of his hands is suddenly uncuffed. He’s so close his eyes would probably be rolling back in his head by now if they were actually open. He feels it building up inside him. He’s going to come from being used by a monster’s dick.
Then the shifter grabs his wrist and pulls it up to press against his chest. Dean can feel thin lines under his palm and he trails his fingers over them. It takes a second before he realizes which scars they are and whom they belong to. Castiel, he thinks and when the blindfold is pulled off his suspicions are confirmed. It’s Castiel’s face looking down at him, except there’s a hard edge to it that Dean has never seen on the angel’s face before. He opens his mouth to say something but before he can get a word out, the shifter is kissing him again.
He smirks, breaking the kiss again as he pushes in all the way and instead of just pulling out and going forward again, he grinds against Dean’s spot, slow and teasing. He slides his hands down to grip Dean’s hips, rolling his own hips smoothly.
He leans in and murmurs in Dean’s ear huskily, “Do you like this, Dean?” He presses a hand to the small of Dean’s back, guiding him to move his hips against the shifter’s as he starts to pull back a little and then push back in, building momentum once again.
“Do you want to come, Dean? Let me hear you ask for it…” He murmurs against Dean’s neck, rocking into him harder, biting and marking his skin. He could just lose all control and fuck Dean into the chair, but instead, he keeps the torturous pace. This wasn’t about him— it was about Dean— reducing him to begging and making him enjoy every second of doing so.
He’s sure that Dean’s realized that by now, but the thought that Dean is too far gone to not play into the shifter’s twisted psychological game makes the shifter groan and bite along Dean’s shoulder hungrily.
(Source: blondebottlerocket)
————
The change of angle has Dean grunting in pleasure and dropping his head forward to rest his chin against his chest, and as the movement continues, the shifter’s cock hits his prostate everytime and Dean can no longer hold back the keening moans that tries to escape his mouth.
“Please,” he begs again “God please just…” Dean isn’t even sure what he’s begging for, salvation or forgivness for the fact that he is rock hard from having this…thing touching him and inside him. He wants it to be over, wants the shifter to just come already so he can kill Dean. At the same time he wishes his hands were free so he could grab the shifter. Dean would pull him closer, making his cock slide in even deeper and he would have that goddamn mouth back on his skin.
“Please,” he sobs. The shifter’s hands are running over his skin and he’s leaning in to growl low and hot in Dean’s ear. There’s something about the way it sounds that has Dean’s insides twisting a little in pleasure but he doesn’t know who the voice belongs to. He knows it’s not his own at least. Quickly twisting his head, Dean manages to capture the shifter’s mouth with his own and kisses him.
The shifter smirks into the kiss then returns it hungrily, growling softly again. He pushes in harder, eager to tear more sounds out of Dean with every thrust and every drag of his hands over Dean’s skin. He bites at Dean’s bottom lip, groaning again as his hands move faster still.
Suddenly one of Dean’s hands is uncuffed and the shifter is gripping his wrist firmly, guiding the hunter’s hand to feel over the scars along his chest. His other hand reaches up and pulls the blindfold off, letting Dean see who he’s shifted into— who’s fucking him hard and fast and giving him more when he begs for it— and leans in to kiss him again roughly before he can speak a word against the form. Castiel’s form.
(Source: blondebottlerocket)
—————
(ooc: Since the different timelines doesn’t quite add up, Tom and I have decided to skip the good stuff here and let you guys find Dean after Tom has had his fun with him. We will instead do a kind of spin off with all the details in their explicit glory)
He bites his lip hard enough to break skin when the shifter’s fingers find that perfect spot inside him. Hearing his own voice talking to him makes Dean shiver and at this point he can’t tell if it’s because he likes it or dislikes it. The fingers inside him are rubbing insistently over his prostate and Dean is almost sobbing with the pleasure of it. It’s too much but not enough at the same time.
“Please,” he begs, hating how the word tastes on his tongue, how it rips away even more of the little dignity he has left. In response to his plea, Dean hears the unmistakable sound of a belt being unbuckled and he can’t help but tense a little. This is gonna hurt. Dean has been through this before and he knows it will hurt so much he will want to vomit from the pain. Except when he feels the shifter’s cock nudge against his hole before slowly pushing inside, it doesn’t hurt. Not really. He feels full and there’s a slight burn as he’s being stretched, but it doesn’t hurt. Dean squeezes his eyes shut behind the blindfold, thinking it would have been better if it did hurt.
He pants softly as he rocks his hips in slowly. No, not quite there. It might make Dean shiver, but it’s not the moaning and pleading mess that Dean was a moment ago. The shifter presses closer and lifts Dean’s hips up to roll his hips smoothly at a different angle, brushing his prostate when he does so. He grins and soaks in the reaction. There we go…
He pulls back enough to pull off his shirt over his head, then leans in and slides his hands over Dean’s body greedily, pulling out slowly, then rolling his hips forward a little faster, gradually building into a mind-numbingly pleasurable rhythm. He growls hotly into Dean’s ear, his voice low and husky and familiar although Dean can’t actually place it just yet.
(Source: blondebottlerocket)
————
Dean’s face was burning from embarrassment and his cheeks must have been flushed red. The shifter’s goading words didn’t make it better. Calling for his brother had nothing to do with the fact that the shifter was slowly fingering him. Just like the shiver that ran through his body had nothing to do with the fact that the monster was using Sam’s voice. There was no sinister meaning behind it. It was just that when Dean was in trouble, Sam was almost always the one to help him. This time it seemed his brother wouldn’t make it though. Dean was tied to this chair, and would remain so until the shifter was finished with him. And then he would be killed. Dean wasn’t worried about the last part. Dying he could handle but this…being fingered excruiciatingly slow, was so much worse, and judging by the slow pace it was gonna take forever before either of them got off. Dean would rather just have this torture over with. Dean stilled in his seat as he contemplated the different options he had and decided that if he was gonna be forced to come either way he rather wanted it to be on his own terms.
He threw back his head and moaned loudly, not holding back, the next time the shifter pressed his fingers into him “Ahh god!”
He carefully pulls his fingers out, adding more lube to them before pushing them in and gradually adding a third finger. When Dean moans out loudly, he smirks, pleased by the change and curls his fingers against Dean’s spot more insistently. His voice is like Dean’s when he speaks again, low and husky with lust. “Feels good, huh? Look at you…”
He unbuckles his belt quietly, then unfastens his pants, biting over the skin of Dean’s neck and shoulder as he does so. He pulls back, removing his fingers before silently shifting into a new form. He’s quiet as he takes Dean’s hips in his hands and guides his cock into the hunter slowly. He pants softly, but other than that, makes no noise. He doesn’t want to give this away just yet, because he knows if he does, Dean’ll probably finish before the shifter wants him to.
Instead he leans in and bites Dean’s ear, reveling the sound Dean makes as the shifter pushes in the rest of the way slowly, pausing and waiting for Dean to adjust.
(Source: blondebottlerocket)
maximillian-wolf-deactivated201 asked:
What ARE you?Well that’s one way to make an introduction.
I’m a shapeshifter, buddy.
———-
Dean had tried not to react but when a hot wet mouth closed around his cock and the finger inside his twisted around a little to rub over his prostate, Dean was incapable of holding back a loud moan. God, the shifter knew what he was doing! Was probably reading Dean’s mind to find out about what Dean liked, but that didn’t change the fact that he knew just what buttons to push and was doing so, regardless of whether or not Dean wanted him to. He arched his back as another moan was dragged out of him by the shifter’s talented tongue.
“No no,” he protested as he felt another finger push against the rim of his hole. It was too much, wasn’t gonna fit. “Sammy, help!”
He works carefully and slowly, laughing softly as he pulls off. “Your brother isn’t here yet, Dean. And he wouldn’t hear you if he was, anyway. Although… what’s that say? You’re getting fucked on my fingers and the first thing you say besides ‘no’ and ‘please’ is your brother’s name?”
He leans in and bites Dean’s ear, keeping Dean’s face, but his voice sounds like Sam’s when he speaks. “You’ve got issues, Dean. Deep ones.” On the word deep he pushes his fingers in deeper, slowly working him open, careful to not injure him in doing so.
(Source: blondebottlerocket)
———
Dean Winchester didn’t cry in front of monsters, but as he felt the shifter’s mouth and hands on him in a way that might not have been unpleasant if it weren’t for the fact that Dean really, really didn’t want this, he had to admit it was a close call. It seemed the blindfold wasn’t entirely a bad thing. At least it prevented Tom from seeing Dean’s eyes tear up a little as a slick finger forced its way into his body.
“No! Stop!” he begged, trying to twist his hips away from the touch but that only caused Tom’s finger to stretch his hole wider and caused a strangled moan to escape his lips. “Stop it, please!”
Of course the begging wouldn’t do much good. This was a shifter, a monster, and with a sudden shill of fear, Dean realized that he wouldn’t stop and that this was probably only the beginning.
“Aren’t we polite.” He chuckles, leaning in and biting Dean’s ear. He had a surprise for this, hence the blindfold. He leans back down to what he’s doing and flicks his tongue out over Dean’s cock. He teases the slit, then licks along the underside slowly, his finger pressing into Dean further and curling, knowing just what to do as he presses against Dean’s spot. He moves slowly, meticulous in making this as pleasurable for Dean as possible, knowing what that alone is doing to him.
He slowly takes Dean further into his mouth, moaning around him, sounding just like Dean as he drags his tongue over the underside. His free hand pinches at one of Dean’s nipples, then the other as he slowly adds a second finger. He’s careful and tentative to Dean’s reactions, actually taking the effort to make the stretch as painless as possible.
He groans again as he takes Dean’s cock in completely, squeezing his eyes shut for just a moment before pulling off completely and dragging his tongue over the head
(Source: blondebottlerocket)
————
While the blindfold and heightened sensitivity might have been a bonus under other circumstances, it was more of a curse now. Especially the latter. Dean knew that the hands sliding down his chest and the mouth biting his ear and neck belonged to a killed and a monster. He knew that perfectly well, but his body didn’t and the shifter seemed to know exactly what buttons to push to get to Dean. Slowly but surely, Dean felt his heartbeat pick up as the shifter moved his hands over his chest.
The things the shifter said about his brother also contributed a little, but for an entirely different reason.
“Wha…he’s gonna walk straight into a trap?” he asked, sounding a little desperate and twisting his head a little, despite the fact that he wouldn’t be able to see anything either way “What are you gonna do to him? Answer me!”
The hands disappear from his chest and for a moment Dean almost felt safe, then he could sense the shifter standing in front of him, leaning in to kiss his neck again. Dean turned his head to the side, not to give the creature better access but because he didn’t want the shifter to try and kiss him anywhere else. The shifter didn’t try it. Instead he did something worse and reached down and grabbed Dean’s cock in his hand. Dean let out a suprised yelp, which turned into a noise of pleasure as the shifter tightened his grip a little and squeezed.
The shifter’s question made him blush violently and he couldn’t answer because he had no idea what his voice would sound like it he tried talking right now, and he wasn’t desperate enough to find out.
Slowly and deliberately he moves his hand over Dean’s length, teasing him more than anything. He kisses over Dean’s chest lightly, bites where he knows it’ll make Dean’s breath hitch, and laughs softly when it does. He was going to take his time with this, but he really can’t bring himself to. The way Dean looks trapped in that chair just…
He pulls out the knife from his boot and slices open Dean’s pants so he can pull them down lower without freeing Dean’s legs, then cuts them off completely. He grabs Dean’s hips and pulls them forward, making him slouch into the chair, and murmurs. “Don’t do this too often, do you, Dean?”
It implies he knows something of Dean’s sex life, considering the only warning Dean gets is the pop of the cap before the shifter is pressing a slick finger against his hole, swirling it around lightly before pushing it in. His other hand is still holding Dean’s cock and he squeezes again, keeping the same slow, torturous pace. The point of this all wasn’t to just take Dean. And take from him.
The point was to take Dean and make him beg for more.
(Source: blondebottlerocket)