A/N : Hey there =] This is a one-shot, it's quite dark, involving torture, character death and maybe some rape. I do love my dark Destiel!
Dean's calloused fingers stroked the ebony feathers of Castiel's wings, just below his shoulder blades, eliciting a low moan from the Angel. The wings were spread wide, spanning the width of the grimy basement, by the thin ropes that criss-crossed Castiel's naked chest, slicing his pale, unblemished flesh with angry pink welts.
"I always though Angels weren't meant to be dirty fuckers, Cas" hissed Dean, the taunt slipping from between his soft, pink lips, pulled tight in his signature smirk.
Pacing slowly Dean circled his restrained prisoner, reminiscent of a panther stalking its prey. The dangerous glint in his golden green eyes was mirrored by the silver knife's blade, which Dean pressed slowly against Castiel's collar bone.
"But I guess you never were very good at being an Angel..."
The knife slipped against the smooth curve of Castiel's skin, the pressure from the blade almost enough to break the skin, but not quite. Dean knew all about pain – how to drag it out, build the suspense, practically make them beg before finally drawing blood. The Hunter allowed the sharp point of the knife to trail down Castiel's pectorals, skirting around the erect bud of his nipple, pressing just a little firmer on its way past. A low hiss escaped the Angel's taught, dry lips, head lolling back exposing a long neck, covered in stubble.
"I'm going to make you moan my name like it's a prayer... and then I'm going to make you scream it like a curse"
Dean's eyebrows raised as Castiel chuckled low and meancing.
"Is that a promise, or a threat?"
"Maybe it's both."
Whatever response Cas was saving was wasted as Dean's blade slipped further down, tracing the line of his abs, stopping just above his navel. Pressing firmly, but not too hard, Dean dug the point of the serrated knife into Castiel's muscled stomach, bruising the skin by bursting the capillaries beneath. The groan that forced itself out from Castiel's mouth sounded strained – the high notes of pleasure mixed with the low tone of pain. The taunts had brought Dean closer to the edge, closer to snapping.
The blade continued down, stopping at the elastic of the black boxers which were the only hint of clothing remaining on the Angel. Blindly slipping the cold silver inside drew an unrestrained moan from the Angel, and a low hiss from Dean, who roughly tore the fabric and allowed it to fall away. Much to Dean's amusement Castiel's arousal was available for the world to see.
"How very unholy. What would your boss say?"
Another response was wasted as the promising glint of silver moved to the tip of Castiel's erection. Some unintelligible sound became an unmistakable moan.
"What was that, Cas?"
"Mmmhhhm"
"Again?" Urging the Angel on with a press of the blade.
"Pl...ease..." The strain of speaking intelligibly was showing, a crimson blush colouring Castiel's skin as beads of moisture dripped from his chin. It occurred to Dean that this was scarily appropriate foreshadowing.
"Please what? Who?"
"Please... Dean... Cut me"
"Pardon?"
"Fucking cut me you twat!"
The menacing growl drawn from Dean made the light behind Castiel's eyes shine – he knew it. The moment was close. The cold of the blade left his heated penis and found his cheek. Dean pressed the blade harder into the soft flesh, painfully slowly, teasing Cas for seconds more.
At first he though the pressure was wrong, but slowly shining crimson beads appeared along the shallow scratch. Wiping them roughly with a calloused thumb Dean watched as Castiel arched his back, digging the ropes further into the angry pink welts, groaning low in his throat.
"Like that?"
"More."
One word; one command. Dean obeyed. Pacing around the Angel's coal black wings Dean reached his exposed back and slowly, ever so slowly dragged the knife across the nape of Cas' neck. The red sprung up faster this time, forming lines of crimson which tracked down Cas' back until they were absorbed by the downy feathers.
Dean continued down the Castiel's spine, drawing deeper and deeper cuts until he was close to the dense muscle of Castiel's aching body. The Angel was shaking under Dean's ministrations, keening at the deeper cuts and moaning at the sharp slices. The ruby glint of blood began to colour all of Castiel's back, but Dean wasn't finished yet.
Picking up a bottle of amber fluid, Dean slowly poured the whisky over the fresh, gleaming cuts, drawing a scream of burning agony from Castiel.
"Nice scream Sweetheart, but I'm nowhere near done with you."
A/N : I was going to make this a one-shot but it's midnight and there's so much torture left to come. I love reviews, and if you have any suggestions for things you'd like to see them do I'll try and work them in. See y'all soon =]