Title: Pretty When You Cry
Length: 727 words.
Summary: I didn't want to hurt you but you're pretty when you cry.
Warnings: If you don't like men liking other men, you really shouldn't be here. sub!Dean dom!Cas, mild knife play, masochistic!Dean, possessive!Cas
Disclaimer: Not mine. Alas.
AN: Inspired by the song 'Pretty When You Cry' by VAST.
Pretty When You Cry
If you knew how much I love you,
You would run away.
But when I treat you bad
It always makes you want to stay.
Dean likes it when Cas pushes him up against the wall just a little too hard, stretches him open just a little too fast, fucks him just a little too aggressively. Just enough for it to register as pain, to leave him stranded at that place between hurting and feeling fucking amazing.
Dean likes it when Cas holds him down so easily, bites and licks and sucks a deep mark into the skin on his neck, too high up for him to cover even if he wanted to, showing everyone who cares to look that he is owned. Dean likes the bruises Cas leaves when he grips him too tightly, when he holds him down by his wrists or pulls him back by his hips or lifts him up against a wall, his fingers digging into thighs and waist and shoulders and anywhere they can reach.
Dean likes feeling the strength in Cas' muscles, restrained, knowing that Cas could hurt him so much more, if he wanted to – knowing Cas will never want to. Dean likes seeing all the feelings bleeding out of Cas' usually emotionless eyes.
Dean likes it when Cas forces him to his knees, hearing the noises he can tease out of his angel, being dragged back up and held in place and used until his legs give out. Dean likes begging Cas for more and for harder and for holy fuck, please don't stop.
Dean likes it when Cas tells him don't you dare come, Dean Winchester, when Cas spills inside, hot and wet, and Dean has to bite his tongue and squeeze finger and thumb around himself and force himself to obey, because if he doesn't it'll be weeks before Cas gives him this again. And Cas swallows Dean down like a human never could, hums and sucks and finally looks up at Dean and nods, swallowing everything Dean has to give and leaving him quivering and exhausted and so fucking happy.
Dean likes it when Cas keeps him up all night, leaving him worn out and useless on the hunt the next day.
Dean likes the threat of cold blade against hot skin, leaving light pink scratches in its wake, every now and then drawing red exactly when he wants it. Like Cas can read his mind and hears now. Dean likes the feel of Cas' breath when he whispers mine, likes looking in the mirror and seeing the faint pink lines, making up ancient Enochian writing and what looks like it might be Castiel's name.
Dean likes it when Cas keeps on going way after he's come, when he's sensitive and shaking, and it all becomes too much. Dean likes it when Cas fucks him so hard, for so long, that it makes tears roll down his cheeks, makes him drag in deep sobbing breathes. Dean likes it when Cas kisses and licks the tears away and comes with a low, deep rumble, swipes his thumb across Dean's wet cheeks and plants soft kisses on his lips.
Dean likes that afterward, after the wonderful hurt and the excruciating pleasure, Cas always touches him like he's fragile and precious; slow, gentle caresses and barely-there press of lips to skin, whispers of breath telling Dean that Cas loves him even though he never says it. They both know Dean's not ready for those words.
Dean likes falling asleep to the sound of Cas' heart beating steadily and Cas' soft sighs, warm breath against his neck and hot skin against his back.
Sam looks at Cas differently now. Sam sees the marks and bruises, the violent possessiveness, and he worries. Dean can't tell his brother it's him who wants to hurt, who begs for it, who needs it. Dean can't bring himself to admit that a part of him was so twisted up by hell that he actually misses the pain sometimes. He still hasn't told Cas that's why he wants it, there's no chance he's ever going to tell his brother. A part of him thinks maybe Cas already knows anyway.
Cas watches Dean – asleep and peaceful and littered with bruises – and smiles. Dean is his; cocky and defiant and damaged and tear streaked and so very wonderful. When Cas sees Dean break apart, that tough exterior ripped away to show what's inside, he thinks he has never seen anything so beautiful.
I didn't want to hurt you but you're pretty when you cry.
So, I've not written anything for ages. I decided to dust off Microsoft Word and have a crack at something. The song above was playing. This is what happened. Idek.
Anyway, I miss Supernatural. The not-so-little break they're taking displeases me. Have some Cas/Dean to make up for it.