Fic: The Night Grew Tall (adult)

[unamaga]

I KNOW I SHOULD BE WORKING ON PROMPTS AND STUFF, STFU. Anyway, I have people to blame for this, so it all works out fine, right? I blame chickypooh because she and I were writing about vampires and it made me hot. Also, I [thoroughly] blame vileseagulls because she said she'd like to see Meg and shapeshifter!Dean working someone over. So, it's totally not my fault at all in any way shape or form. Yes. That's my story. I'm sticking to it.

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The Night Grew Tall [Adult] ~800
Sam/ss!Dean/Meg - hints of dub-con, bondage, bloodplay

Meg's hand is in his hair, pulling until Sam has no choice but to crane his neck back and stand on his toes. Fuck, but it hurts, and he can't manage to even work a hand free with how the both of them are eyeing him closely.

The shape shifter takes the opportunity to lean in and lick a hot stripe up Sam's straining neck, and Sam really can't control the sound that comes out of his mouth then. Meg laughs at them both, low and mocking, twisting her fingers even harder in Sam's hair.

"Why, Sam," Meg says close to his ear, breath puffing out against the shell and making him shiver. "I never knew you were such a kinky bastard." The shape shifter drags his teeth over Sam's Adam’s apple, sharp canines just like Dean's, and god.

His hips swivel forward, seeking some kind of friction or relief or just - anything - and Meg's hand lands on one of his thighs, pushing him back against the wooden post. The shape shifter's mouth stops what it's doing, and he pulls back with a fond, "Tsk, Sammy - bad boy."

Sam whimpers, struggling against the ropes all over again, even though his wrists are already bloodied and raw. He can feel the tickle of his own blood making a path down his forearm and into the sleeve of his shirt.

"Aw, don't worry," Meg says with false sympathy, "we'll get you off, Sam." She shares a look with the shape shifter wearing Dean's face - it's not a nice look. "Just might take a while."

It takes more than a while. An hour later, Sam's still in the exact same position, sans all of his clothing, and he's so hard he thinks he's going to pass out. The shape shifter is on his knees, hands on Sam's hips to keep him still, mouth teasing the head of Sam's cock with tiny, careful sips that do nothing but make Sam beg and yell and plead.

Meg hasn't touched Sam in over twenty minutes, though. She's just been holding a knife under his jaw and whispering horrible things in his ear. Things about Dean, things about him - thing Sam has never ever wanted to hear. He tries to tune her out, focus on the sharp metal under his chin or the shape shifter’s lips wrapped around his dick, but every time he does, she presses deeper and talks louder.

When the shape shifter finally sinks down on his cock after a fucking hour of torture, though, Sam can't even feel the knife against his throat, only the wethotfuckplease mouth on him. He's not sure what kinds of sounds he's making, but Meg seems to be enjoying them because she's laughing again - a husky, vicious sound.

Just as he's about to come, balls tightening up, heat building at the base of his spine, the shape shifter pulls back and looks up at him. "Oh. Did you really think it would be that easy, Sammy?"

Sam wants to cry. It's right there, he can feel himself hovering right on the edge, if only they would just touch him for a second, he could -

"C'mere," Meg says suddenly, the knife against Sam's neck not moving. She tugs the shape shifter up with her free hand, pulling him in for a dirty, wet kiss. Their tongues don't even stay in either mouth, just slipping and sliding over each other in the space between their lips.

Sam watches helplessly, cock pulsing and needing it, needing it so fucking much. The shape shifter pulls away with a filthy smacking sound and sends Sam a coy look. "Did you like that?"

Those hands, capable and square like Dean's, slide up Meg's bare stomach and cup her breasts. Meg moans, concentration slipping for just a second, and the knife slips to the right, cutting Sam deep, right below his hairline.

And he's so on edge, so close, that the bolt of pain sends him right over. He comes, screaming out something incomprehensible and letting his full weight hang so hard on his arms they nearly pop out of their sockets.

Sam comes back to himself and Meg has her face buried against his neck, licking the pool of blood left behind from the cut and irritating it so much Sam half-sobs for her to stop.

The shape shifter drapes himself over Meg's shoulders, so close his nose almost touches Sam's. His eyes are huge and dark and just like Dean's. "A little pain kink you never knew about, Sam my boy?" The shape shifter’s tongue drags across Sam's bitten-through lower lip and dips into Sam's mouth.

Meg pulls her head back, interrupting them. Her lips are stained bright red from Sam's blood, and so are her teeth when she smiles. "Well, then, we have work to do."