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fannishlisstitle: "...want your bad romance!"
author: a somewhat shamefaced![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fannishliss
genre, pairing: Sassy! with added Meg, PG13
2137 words
from the Sassy! commentfic meme
references events in 6.10, "Caged Heat"
Something was knocking at Sam’s motel room door, and he knew it was nothing good. Dean was out getting drunk and no one else knew he was here.
Drawing his handgun and unlocking the safety, Sam stepped quietly to the door, standing to one side. Assured that the salt lines were intact and the devil’s trap mat was in place, he answered the knock with a perfunctory “Yes?”
“Sam,” came the drawled response, low and pleading. It was Meg.
Sam’s hackles went up and he began to calculate. He could fling open the door and stab her with the knife. He could break the salt line and catch her in the trap. He could go out the patio window, steal a car, and make it out of the lot in a little under two minutes.
“Sam, please let me in. I’m begging you.” All the hair standing up on the back of his neck at her whining tone, his hands flexing, his breathing going just a bit faster and shallower. There were not many voices in the world right now that could raise such a negative response in Sam as Meg’s.
“Why?” Sam answered, curious despite himself. He couldn’t think of anything he had that Meg wanted.
“He did something to me, Sam, please. He won’t answer me!”
Sam frowned, cataloging. Christian, the one who had tortured Meg, was dead -- Dean had killed him with the knife -- so she wasn’t talking about him. Dean hadn’t done anything to Meg but free her, and Crowley was dead. Sam’s eyebrows flew up: Castiel. Castiel had kissed her.
“You’re trying to call Cas?” Sam laughed. The irony was too exquisite. The only thing in the world less likely than Sam to successfully get Castiel’s attention was the demon girl on the other side of the door, begging for his help.
“Go ahead and laugh, Sam, I don’t mind,” Meg said. “Just help me. I need him, Sam, please.”
“Oh, Meg. You came to the wrong brother. It’s Dean that has the profound bond with the Angel. I’m just the abomination, Sam without a soul.”
“Dean won’t call the Angel for me, Sam. Not for the reason I need him,” Meg crooned. Damn, she was almost panting behind the door. Sam could imagine her pressed there, writhing, making a spectacle of herself in the hallway.
Dean’s relationship with the Angel was too messy for Sam to understand right now. Cas was a useful ally, especially if fighting demons was concerned. But he was balky, unreliable. Maybe he would come when called, maybe not. Sam gave Dean a much higher rating at least in that regard.
“You think I can just call him, Meg? I called him for a year and he didn’t come.”
“You can, I know you can. Please!” Meg whined.
“Well, if I do, what do I get out of it?” Sam asked, still cautious but considering.
“You’d get to watch,” Meg taunted, but her familiar chuckle sounded somehow hollow.
Without further consideration, Sam flipped open the locks on the door and threw it open. Meg was standing back, poised, ready, but her face was drawn, glistening with sweat. She crept past Sam into the room, directly into the trap.
“Oww. God, Sam. Really? There’s hardly enough room to breath in this thing,” Meg complained, face twisted up in discomfort.
“You stay there for a minute, okay? while I see if I can get Cas on the line.”
Sam crossed the room, putting his back to the wall, keeping an eye on the demon. She hugged herself, keeping her elbows in, rocking a bit on her toes on Sam’s little welcome mat.
Sam wasn’t about to close his eyes with the demon in the room, even if she was in a trap. He softened his focus, remaining alert but devoting one part of himself to a call for Castiel.
“Cas, I know you can hear me. I’ve got a pretty powerful weapon here with me, and it’s not the Lost Ark this time.”
A sense of compression and expansion in the room, a sigh of desert breeze, whisper of static, muffled thump of a mighty wing -- and Castiel appeared, stepping forward as through a door.
Meg drew a sharp breath, her eyes shooting black. She leaned forward on her toes, pressing up against the invisible lines of the trap, arching a little as they held her back.
“Castiel, oh, Cas. You came!” she sighed. Castiel shot a glance from Meg to Sam, clearly furious, but saying nothing.
Sam grinned at the irritated Angel, eager to see his reaction. It was a fascinating equation: Angel = Demon minus x. What had he done to her?
“Sam, you shouldn’t waste my time. Heaven is imperiled every moment I’m away.” Castiel’s voice was heavy with disapproval, but Sam didn’t care.
“You have an opportunity here, Cas. You pulled Dean out of the Pit -- now this one is volunteering.” Sam shot a look at Meg, but she didn’t react. She was trained on Cas like a mesmerized cobra.
“Look at her, Cas. You telling me you can’t use that?” Sam said. Meg was cunning, ruthless; she’d gotten the drop on the Winchesters more than once. Having her in their pocket had to be an advantage.
“She’s a demon, Sam. Surely you of all people should know--” Castiel began, but Meg interrupted.
“Am I? Am I still? What did you do to me, Castiel? There’s something missing -- you took something -- please --”
Meg writhed in her trap and Sam watched Cas closely. His ears turned red and he blushed. He had the sense to look down at least. Sam was surprised that the Angel didn’t just quell the bodily reaction.
“Cas, you’re blushing. You did do something, didn’t you?” Sam wheedled. He didn’t need Hunter instincts to catch a tell this obvious.
“She was going to fight the hellhounds. It seemed appropriate to -- “ Again Castiel blushed, almost scarlet by now.
“What, Cas? Spit it out.” It was almost as good as grilling a witness.
Castiel gritted his teeth and met Sam’s eyes. “For one, I released the spirit of the girl she’s been riding; she was mortally injured long ago. As for the demon, I blessed her. I gave her my blessing with a kiss.”
“Oh!” Meg shivered. “Do it again! Again!”
“You didn’t learn blessing from the pizza boy, Cas,” Sam mocked. Mockery was a bit like Hunting -- a quick stab of intellect meant to wound the target.
“The woman in the porno enjoyed being punished. Meg is a demon, so of course she’s been bad -- but it seemed to me a kiss would be better -- “ Castiel’s voice was even more gravelly than usual with embarrassment.
“It hurt, it hurt so good,” Meg moaned. “Do it again!”
Hearing Meg moan, watching her writhe, it was beginning to get to Sam. “Yeah, Cas. Why not? Do it again,” he prompted.
Castiel’s eyes widened, then narrowed. He licked his lips unconsciously. Sam watched him like a cat watches a mouse. Shock, disapproval, desire --Sam could easily track the emotions he himself no longer felt as they travelled blatant across Castiel’s transparent face.
Sam took a step forward. Lust stirred his blood. It would be easy, wouldn’t it? And hot. Maybe get Meg a little deeper in debt. Maybe something to hold over Castiel. Something to hold in a pocket that Dean didn’t know about. Win, win, win, win. Go.
“Come on, Cas. You want to. She wants it. Look at her, all helpless in that trap. She stepped in there for you, Cas. She’s aching for it. She wants you to do it again.” Sam was ready to move in on Cas. He’d move slowly though, not to spook the Angel. He could instantly fly away, leaving Sam high and dry. Meg was nothing to him without the Angel, though he couldn’t say why.
Castiel’s eyes darkened. He glared at Sam, but said nothing. His gaze, though, flickered toward Meg.
Her quick black eyes caught the fleeting glance. “Please, Castiel. Please! It’s true. I want it, whatever you did, I want it again. I’ll beg you. If I had room in this trap I’d be down on my knees right now, praying--”
“Blasphemy -- “ Castiel mouthed, but his voice failed him.
“You don’t sound too sure of that, Cas,” Sam said. He was right up on the Angel now. He towered over the vessel, but he knew the Angel was made of more than what could be seen. The vessel was slender, pretty, while Sam was massive, almost brutal in comparison. He lifted his hands and placed them gently on Castiel’s borrowed shoulders. The Angel shuddered, and Sam wondered at it. What powers these human bodies retained -- Sam’s soul gone who knows where, Castiel wearing a sacrificial lamb -- yet the bodies hungered, reacted, lusted. Sam felt the heat of Castiel’s discomfiture rising from his shoulders, even through the layers, and he soothed him slightly. Had anyone ever touched the Angel like this? Sam wanted to know, wanted to know what it would look like.
“Kiss her again, Castiel,” Sam ordered, reasonable. “Doesn’t she deserve it? to feel your power flooding through her, washing her clean?”
Castiel was trembling, minute little thrums like the shivering of a bird in hand. He cleared his throat, finding his voice again. “I could destroy her... my grace is strong.”
“You don’t want to kill me, Angel, do you?” Meg taunted, still pleading with her body, her lips and lowered lids, hands reaching for Castiel, stopped by the trap like the bars of a cage.
“No,” Cas whispered, and Sam urged him forward, hands on his shoulders, crowding him with his body. The Angel swayed, hypnotized in turn by the captive serpent.
In three steps they had crossed the room and Meg was there, right there, gasping for Castiel, desperate for him. The trap was nothing to Castiel, though Sam knew he could see the lines of its power. Like a puppetmaster Sam slid his hands down Castiel’s arms, lifting them, pliant and dreamlike, though Sam knew that they could turn to iron inside a heartbeat.
Sam placed Cas’s hands on Meg’s hips, heard the rush of her sigh, felt the relief flow through her as she melted into Castiel’s arms. Sam couldn’t believe his good luck as the Angel lifted his hand of his own accord, tilting the demon’s face just so, lowering his mouth to hers. Sam’s hand was freed to stroke across Castiel’s side, soothing, encouraging him to stay just where he was, to do more of what he was doing.
Sam’s ears were full of Meg’s moans, tinged now with pain and bliss, as Castiel kissed her, blessed her; whatever he called it, Cas had lost himself in the moment, and Sam took the advantage, tightening his embrace on the Angel from behind. The Angel’s delicate quivers as he ravaged the demon set up a stronger tremor in Sam as he fought to keep his body in line, reining himself back, getting off on Castiel but trying to hold back -- it was maddening, but oh so hot, thrusting so gently against the Angel, just enough to keep his own pleasure building, but not so much as to distract the Angel from what he was doing with his armful of demon.
“Ah, ah, Castiel, god!” Meg moaned, and Sam felt Castiel tighten his embrace. Sam thrust a little harder, taking a chance, pulling Meg toward them with the hand still on her waist.
Castiel stilled for a moment, then relaxed back against Sam. The demon’s moans were continuous now, the Angel’s kisses relentless and deep; Sam could feel a low, thrumming pulsation flooding through the vessel, strongest from the torso but building until Sam could even feel it through the soles of his feet. It was maddening, and Sam thrust against Cas a little more forcefully, till he finally shuddered out his release.
Sam came back to himself with a sigh, stepping back from Castiel and Meg. The demon opened her eyes, gazing up at Castiel in adoration.
“You are one kinky son of God,” she purred.
“You... should call me again, sometime soon,” Castiel said. He stepped backward away from the demon as she got her feet back under her.
“You as well,” Castiel said to Sam. “If possible, I’ll come.” Without another word, he vanished, leaving Sam and Meg staring at one another.
“I’m beginning to see what Dean sees in him,” Meg snarked.
“Me too,” Sam said.
author: a somewhat shamefaced
fannishliss genre, pairing: Sassy! with added Meg, PG13
2137 words
from the Sassy! commentfic meme
references events in 6.10, "Caged Heat"
Something was knocking at Sam’s motel room door, and he knew it was nothing good. Dean was out getting drunk and no one else knew he was here.
Drawing his handgun and unlocking the safety, Sam stepped quietly to the door, standing to one side. Assured that the salt lines were intact and the devil’s trap mat was in place, he answered the knock with a perfunctory “Yes?”
“Sam,” came the drawled response, low and pleading. It was Meg.
Sam’s hackles went up and he began to calculate. He could fling open the door and stab her with the knife. He could break the salt line and catch her in the trap. He could go out the patio window, steal a car, and make it out of the lot in a little under two minutes.
“Sam, please let me in. I’m begging you.” All the hair standing up on the back of his neck at her whining tone, his hands flexing, his breathing going just a bit faster and shallower. There were not many voices in the world right now that could raise such a negative response in Sam as Meg’s.
“Why?” Sam answered, curious despite himself. He couldn’t think of anything he had that Meg wanted.
“He did something to me, Sam, please. He won’t answer me!”
Sam frowned, cataloging. Christian, the one who had tortured Meg, was dead -- Dean had killed him with the knife -- so she wasn’t talking about him. Dean hadn’t done anything to Meg but free her, and Crowley was dead. Sam’s eyebrows flew up: Castiel. Castiel had kissed her.
“You’re trying to call Cas?” Sam laughed. The irony was too exquisite. The only thing in the world less likely than Sam to successfully get Castiel’s attention was the demon girl on the other side of the door, begging for his help.
“Go ahead and laugh, Sam, I don’t mind,” Meg said. “Just help me. I need him, Sam, please.”
“Oh, Meg. You came to the wrong brother. It’s Dean that has the profound bond with the Angel. I’m just the abomination, Sam without a soul.”
“Dean won’t call the Angel for me, Sam. Not for the reason I need him,” Meg crooned. Damn, she was almost panting behind the door. Sam could imagine her pressed there, writhing, making a spectacle of herself in the hallway.
Dean’s relationship with the Angel was too messy for Sam to understand right now. Cas was a useful ally, especially if fighting demons was concerned. But he was balky, unreliable. Maybe he would come when called, maybe not. Sam gave Dean a much higher rating at least in that regard.
“You think I can just call him, Meg? I called him for a year and he didn’t come.”
“You can, I know you can. Please!” Meg whined.
“Well, if I do, what do I get out of it?” Sam asked, still cautious but considering.
“You’d get to watch,” Meg taunted, but her familiar chuckle sounded somehow hollow.
Without further consideration, Sam flipped open the locks on the door and threw it open. Meg was standing back, poised, ready, but her face was drawn, glistening with sweat. She crept past Sam into the room, directly into the trap.
“Oww. God, Sam. Really? There’s hardly enough room to breath in this thing,” Meg complained, face twisted up in discomfort.
“You stay there for a minute, okay? while I see if I can get Cas on the line.”
Sam crossed the room, putting his back to the wall, keeping an eye on the demon. She hugged herself, keeping her elbows in, rocking a bit on her toes on Sam’s little welcome mat.
Sam wasn’t about to close his eyes with the demon in the room, even if she was in a trap. He softened his focus, remaining alert but devoting one part of himself to a call for Castiel.
“Cas, I know you can hear me. I’ve got a pretty powerful weapon here with me, and it’s not the Lost Ark this time.”
A sense of compression and expansion in the room, a sigh of desert breeze, whisper of static, muffled thump of a mighty wing -- and Castiel appeared, stepping forward as through a door.
Meg drew a sharp breath, her eyes shooting black. She leaned forward on her toes, pressing up against the invisible lines of the trap, arching a little as they held her back.
“Castiel, oh, Cas. You came!” she sighed. Castiel shot a glance from Meg to Sam, clearly furious, but saying nothing.
Sam grinned at the irritated Angel, eager to see his reaction. It was a fascinating equation: Angel = Demon minus x. What had he done to her?
“Sam, you shouldn’t waste my time. Heaven is imperiled every moment I’m away.” Castiel’s voice was heavy with disapproval, but Sam didn’t care.
“You have an opportunity here, Cas. You pulled Dean out of the Pit -- now this one is volunteering.” Sam shot a look at Meg, but she didn’t react. She was trained on Cas like a mesmerized cobra.
“Look at her, Cas. You telling me you can’t use that?” Sam said. Meg was cunning, ruthless; she’d gotten the drop on the Winchesters more than once. Having her in their pocket had to be an advantage.
“She’s a demon, Sam. Surely you of all people should know--” Castiel began, but Meg interrupted.
“Am I? Am I still? What did you do to me, Castiel? There’s something missing -- you took something -- please --”
Meg writhed in her trap and Sam watched Cas closely. His ears turned red and he blushed. He had the sense to look down at least. Sam was surprised that the Angel didn’t just quell the bodily reaction.
“Cas, you’re blushing. You did do something, didn’t you?” Sam wheedled. He didn’t need Hunter instincts to catch a tell this obvious.
“She was going to fight the hellhounds. It seemed appropriate to -- “ Again Castiel blushed, almost scarlet by now.
“What, Cas? Spit it out.” It was almost as good as grilling a witness.
Castiel gritted his teeth and met Sam’s eyes. “For one, I released the spirit of the girl she’s been riding; she was mortally injured long ago. As for the demon, I blessed her. I gave her my blessing with a kiss.”
“Oh!” Meg shivered. “Do it again! Again!”
“You didn’t learn blessing from the pizza boy, Cas,” Sam mocked. Mockery was a bit like Hunting -- a quick stab of intellect meant to wound the target.
“The woman in the porno enjoyed being punished. Meg is a demon, so of course she’s been bad -- but it seemed to me a kiss would be better -- “ Castiel’s voice was even more gravelly than usual with embarrassment.
“It hurt, it hurt so good,” Meg moaned. “Do it again!”
Hearing Meg moan, watching her writhe, it was beginning to get to Sam. “Yeah, Cas. Why not? Do it again,” he prompted.
Castiel’s eyes widened, then narrowed. He licked his lips unconsciously. Sam watched him like a cat watches a mouse. Shock, disapproval, desire --Sam could easily track the emotions he himself no longer felt as they travelled blatant across Castiel’s transparent face.
Sam took a step forward. Lust stirred his blood. It would be easy, wouldn’t it? And hot. Maybe get Meg a little deeper in debt. Maybe something to hold over Castiel. Something to hold in a pocket that Dean didn’t know about. Win, win, win, win. Go.
“Come on, Cas. You want to. She wants it. Look at her, all helpless in that trap. She stepped in there for you, Cas. She’s aching for it. She wants you to do it again.” Sam was ready to move in on Cas. He’d move slowly though, not to spook the Angel. He could instantly fly away, leaving Sam high and dry. Meg was nothing to him without the Angel, though he couldn’t say why.
Castiel’s eyes darkened. He glared at Sam, but said nothing. His gaze, though, flickered toward Meg.
Her quick black eyes caught the fleeting glance. “Please, Castiel. Please! It’s true. I want it, whatever you did, I want it again. I’ll beg you. If I had room in this trap I’d be down on my knees right now, praying--”
“Blasphemy -- “ Castiel mouthed, but his voice failed him.
“You don’t sound too sure of that, Cas,” Sam said. He was right up on the Angel now. He towered over the vessel, but he knew the Angel was made of more than what could be seen. The vessel was slender, pretty, while Sam was massive, almost brutal in comparison. He lifted his hands and placed them gently on Castiel’s borrowed shoulders. The Angel shuddered, and Sam wondered at it. What powers these human bodies retained -- Sam’s soul gone who knows where, Castiel wearing a sacrificial lamb -- yet the bodies hungered, reacted, lusted. Sam felt the heat of Castiel’s discomfiture rising from his shoulders, even through the layers, and he soothed him slightly. Had anyone ever touched the Angel like this? Sam wanted to know, wanted to know what it would look like.
“Kiss her again, Castiel,” Sam ordered, reasonable. “Doesn’t she deserve it? to feel your power flooding through her, washing her clean?”
Castiel was trembling, minute little thrums like the shivering of a bird in hand. He cleared his throat, finding his voice again. “I could destroy her... my grace is strong.”
“You don’t want to kill me, Angel, do you?” Meg taunted, still pleading with her body, her lips and lowered lids, hands reaching for Castiel, stopped by the trap like the bars of a cage.
“No,” Cas whispered, and Sam urged him forward, hands on his shoulders, crowding him with his body. The Angel swayed, hypnotized in turn by the captive serpent.
In three steps they had crossed the room and Meg was there, right there, gasping for Castiel, desperate for him. The trap was nothing to Castiel, though Sam knew he could see the lines of its power. Like a puppetmaster Sam slid his hands down Castiel’s arms, lifting them, pliant and dreamlike, though Sam knew that they could turn to iron inside a heartbeat.
Sam placed Cas’s hands on Meg’s hips, heard the rush of her sigh, felt the relief flow through her as she melted into Castiel’s arms. Sam couldn’t believe his good luck as the Angel lifted his hand of his own accord, tilting the demon’s face just so, lowering his mouth to hers. Sam’s hand was freed to stroke across Castiel’s side, soothing, encouraging him to stay just where he was, to do more of what he was doing.
Sam’s ears were full of Meg’s moans, tinged now with pain and bliss, as Castiel kissed her, blessed her; whatever he called it, Cas had lost himself in the moment, and Sam took the advantage, tightening his embrace on the Angel from behind. The Angel’s delicate quivers as he ravaged the demon set up a stronger tremor in Sam as he fought to keep his body in line, reining himself back, getting off on Castiel but trying to hold back -- it was maddening, but oh so hot, thrusting so gently against the Angel, just enough to keep his own pleasure building, but not so much as to distract the Angel from what he was doing with his armful of demon.
“Ah, ah, Castiel, god!” Meg moaned, and Sam felt Castiel tighten his embrace. Sam thrust a little harder, taking a chance, pulling Meg toward them with the hand still on her waist.
Castiel stilled for a moment, then relaxed back against Sam. The demon’s moans were continuous now, the Angel’s kisses relentless and deep; Sam could feel a low, thrumming pulsation flooding through the vessel, strongest from the torso but building until Sam could even feel it through the soles of his feet. It was maddening, and Sam thrust against Cas a little more forcefully, till he finally shuddered out his release.
Sam came back to himself with a sigh, stepping back from Castiel and Meg. The demon opened her eyes, gazing up at Castiel in adoration.
“You are one kinky son of God,” she purred.
“You... should call me again, sometime soon,” Castiel said. He stepped backward away from the demon as she got her feet back under her.
“You as well,” Castiel said to Sam. “If possible, I’ll come.” Without another word, he vanished, leaving Sam and Meg staring at one another.
“I’m beginning to see what Dean sees in him,” Meg snarked.
“Me too,” Sam said.
