(no subject)
Title: Cross That Line
Author: Belah
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, are the property of their respective owners. The plot is the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Word Count: 1,483/3 pages.
Spoilers: N/A
Summary: "Blood coated blowjobs handcuffs and gags wrapped up in cock rings... These are a few of my favorite things..." --Summary provided by Syn.
Notes/Warnings: Read the summary for warnings. :) I was inspired by a few of the fics I've read in this community as well as my own sick imagination.
“Dean.” His brother shifted on the rough motel sheets, just a slight movement of his hips. “Dean, wake up.” His finger slowly traced from the hollow of his brother’s throat to his navel, watching as Dean’s body squirmed.
Dean’s eyes snapped open, pupils dilated when he found that he was unable to move his wrists from the aching position above his head. “Fuck!” he growled, searching for his brother in the small room. In the brief time it took Dean to fully wake, Sam had slid off the bed and move to sit in one of the shaky chairs that had been placed in the room. “You little shit. Un-cuff me, now.”
“No. I warned you I was going to return the favor.” Sam’s lips were curled into an all too-smug grin as he watched his older brother groan and tug futilely at the handcuffs binding his wrists to the posts of the bed.
“Goddamned, sonofabitch.” Dean snarled, his eyes shimmered emerald in the cracked lighting filling the room.
“Keep that up and I’ll be forced to help you be quiet, big brother…” Sam smirked and waved around one of Dean’s bandannas in his hand. “Actually, I think it’d just be more fun that way.”
Dean thrashed on the mattress, growling and grunting as Sam secured the makeshift gag in place. “Much better.”
Fuming, breath coming in deep ragged gasps, Dean watched his brother closely. He no longer fought against the metal of the handcuffs, the deep cuts that they’d made already burning at his nerve endings. A cool breeze over his skin forced Dean to take his eyes off of Sam and look down his torso. He slowly squirmed on the sheets, realizing that his clothing had been removed. Shit.
When his eyes fluttered back to Sam, swore under his breath the words lost in the cloth. Sam was holding the knife Dean’d given him for his birthday, twirling it between his fingers, making a show of inspecting it.
Dean’s eyes immediately focused on the blade, swallowing hard past the gag. He was faintly aware of Sam’s eyes on him, watching him as he mewed and whimpered past the cloth. He could feel the faintest stirrings in his gut, a slight rush of warmth pulsing through himself.
Sam was more than aware of his brother’s reaction, had been counting on it. He simply slid his fingers into his pocket and removed something Dean couldn’t quite see, his eyes still intently trained on the blade, waiting to see what Sam was going to do.
Making sure Dean’s attention was where he needed it, Sam slowly slid from the chair and took the single step to the mattress. He crawled on his knees, straddling his brother’s thighs, lightly dragging the tip of the blade along Dean’s sternum, enjoying the way his back arched and his wrists involuntarily pulled at the cuffs, a soft moan slipping past the handcuffs. Sam risked a glance lower, seeing Dean’s cock resting hard and firm against his stomach. Pleased with himself, Sam took the object he’d been hiding from Dean, slowly sliding it down to the base of his length, firmly securing the cock ring with a small sound from Dean.
Dean’s eyes fluttered open, pleading looking up at his baby brother. Sam just took the blade and pressed it flat to Dean’s lips, silencing any possible protest past the cotton filling his mouth. The previous anger Dean had shown had drained almost instantly at the sight of the silver blade just as Sam had hoped.
He leaned down to whisper in his brother’s ear. “Watch.”
He straightened his back; let the blade trail slowly down his brother’s jaw to his throat. Dean swallowed thickly despite himself and felt the blade press tighter, not yet breaking skin. Sam moved it lower, lifting the blade so that the tip pressed just above Dean’s nipple, layers above where his heart rested. He shifted the blade, watched as the first droplets of crimson welled to the surface and slowly beaded. He moved the blade slowly, careful of the pressure he applied as he drew, no carved, a small X over his brother’s heart. He lifted his eyes, met Dean’s and smirked. “Mine.”
Dean’s body trembled under the press of the blade, but Sam knew his eyes’d been locked on the blade the whole time, straining to see what he’d been doing. He leaned forward slowly, back curving as his lips lowered to lap slowly at the blood pooling from the wound he’d inflicted. He rolled his eyes up, watching Dean struggle to keep his eyes focused as his back arched and his cock twitched against Sam’s thigh. Sam’s lips parted and latched to the skin around the X, sucking hungrily at the coppery fluid seeping from inside. He moaned against Dean’s chest, the blade resting at Dean’s stomach. His free hand curled at his brother’s hips, biting into the skin. When he finally pulled his lips away to look up at his brother, Sam licked his lips slowly and proudly looked down at Dean.
His brother’s eyes were hazy with something Sam couldn’t identify-he’d only seen the look when they were on a hunt, or… like this. Either way, he was pleased. His lips were coated with faint smears of Dean’s blood when he shifted from his chest to lingering above his brother’s mouth. He drew closer, breathing heavily against the wire lips below. He snapped his teeth, catching Dean’s lip and breaking the skin as he let his fingers drift up to the cut, curling into the skin.
Dean’s hips bucked upwards, nearly causing Sam to stumble and lose his balance. He let out a soft whine as his fists balled in the cuffs and his breathing grew ragged. His eyes were frantic, glancing from Sam’s face downwards, perhaps to glimpse the blade-Sam wasn’t sure. It didn’t really matter. What mattered was Dean, naked and writhing and wanting beneath him.
The rush of power that feeling gave him, made Sam’s head swim. He had to close his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply before he could look into his brother’s eyes again. He opened his eyes slowly as Dean’s hip arched and rolled against his own.
“Bad Dean.” He shifted to sit once more, the knife’s blade pressing firmly at the tender flesh at the tip of Dean’s cock. He gasped, his body going instantly still. “Care to move again?”
Dean’s head shook from side to side, his whole body trembling. “Very good. Now I’m going to take off the gag, but you’re not to speak unless instructed. Understood?”
Dean nodded in response, licking his lips and stretching his jaw at the removal of his gag.
“So much beautiful skin to mark… Where should I start?” He tapped the flat of the blade idly against Dean’s cock, watching his brother writhe and moan, biting his lip. “How about…” He slowly traced his way down the hollow of Dean’s thigh to the inner meat. “Here.”
When Dean’s pupil’s grew small and his green eyes grew dark, Sam smirked and pressed blade down into his flesh, cutting a line from mid-thigh to his knee. Dean drew in a sharp breath, pulling harshly at his restraints. Sam’s eyes slowly trailed up his brother’s body from his weeping cock to his begging eyes before smiling.
“Actually, I have a far better idea…” He trailed the blade higher, pressing it tip to tip with Dean’s length, watching as his brother’s breathing grew faster and sharper before pressing the blade to make the tiniest incision.
Dean’s head dropped back as an uncontrolled near screaming moan fell past his lips. Before he could fully register the sting of the metal, it was warm and wet and soothing. Dean lifted his head, catching Sam’s eyes as his mouth wrapped around the head of his cock. Sam teased with tongue and teeth, enjoying how his brother’s body jerked and arched at his touch. He took him deeper, as far as he dared, tongue mercilessly working the fresh wound as he moaned at the metallic and salty taste of Dean’s skin. His mouth moved faster between Dean’s thighs, his nails digging into his hips, the blade having been set flat on his stomach. He could hear the high pitched, keening whimpers from his brother’s lips begging for release. When the clinking of the cuffs grew frantic and rapid, he slid a hand from Dean’s hip to his cock, loosening the cock ring. A final flick of his tongue and Dean spilled hot down his throat. He swallowed carefully, drawing back to gaze lazily down at his brother.
Dean’s eyes were closed, still panting for air when Sam unlocked the cuffs. Both lay still for what seemed like hours, content with each other.
“Remind me to piss you off more often…” Dean’s voice was raspy and thick.
“You do that.”
Author: Belah
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, are the property of their respective owners. The plot is the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Word Count: 1,483/3 pages.
Spoilers: N/A
Summary: "Blood coated blowjobs handcuffs and gags wrapped up in cock rings... These are a few of my favorite things..." --Summary provided by Syn.
Notes/Warnings: Read the summary for warnings. :) I was inspired by a few of the fics I've read in this community as well as my own sick imagination.
“Dean.” His brother shifted on the rough motel sheets, just a slight movement of his hips. “Dean, wake up.” His finger slowly traced from the hollow of his brother’s throat to his navel, watching as Dean’s body squirmed.
Dean’s eyes snapped open, pupils dilated when he found that he was unable to move his wrists from the aching position above his head. “Fuck!” he growled, searching for his brother in the small room. In the brief time it took Dean to fully wake, Sam had slid off the bed and move to sit in one of the shaky chairs that had been placed in the room. “You little shit. Un-cuff me, now.”
“No. I warned you I was going to return the favor.” Sam’s lips were curled into an all too-smug grin as he watched his older brother groan and tug futilely at the handcuffs binding his wrists to the posts of the bed.
“Goddamned, sonofabitch.” Dean snarled, his eyes shimmered emerald in the cracked lighting filling the room.
“Keep that up and I’ll be forced to help you be quiet, big brother…” Sam smirked and waved around one of Dean’s bandannas in his hand. “Actually, I think it’d just be more fun that way.”
Dean thrashed on the mattress, growling and grunting as Sam secured the makeshift gag in place. “Much better.”
Fuming, breath coming in deep ragged gasps, Dean watched his brother closely. He no longer fought against the metal of the handcuffs, the deep cuts that they’d made already burning at his nerve endings. A cool breeze over his skin forced Dean to take his eyes off of Sam and look down his torso. He slowly squirmed on the sheets, realizing that his clothing had been removed. Shit.
When his eyes fluttered back to Sam, swore under his breath the words lost in the cloth. Sam was holding the knife Dean’d given him for his birthday, twirling it between his fingers, making a show of inspecting it.
Dean’s eyes immediately focused on the blade, swallowing hard past the gag. He was faintly aware of Sam’s eyes on him, watching him as he mewed and whimpered past the cloth. He could feel the faintest stirrings in his gut, a slight rush of warmth pulsing through himself.
Sam was more than aware of his brother’s reaction, had been counting on it. He simply slid his fingers into his pocket and removed something Dean couldn’t quite see, his eyes still intently trained on the blade, waiting to see what Sam was going to do.
Making sure Dean’s attention was where he needed it, Sam slowly slid from the chair and took the single step to the mattress. He crawled on his knees, straddling his brother’s thighs, lightly dragging the tip of the blade along Dean’s sternum, enjoying the way his back arched and his wrists involuntarily pulled at the cuffs, a soft moan slipping past the handcuffs. Sam risked a glance lower, seeing Dean’s cock resting hard and firm against his stomach. Pleased with himself, Sam took the object he’d been hiding from Dean, slowly sliding it down to the base of his length, firmly securing the cock ring with a small sound from Dean.
Dean’s eyes fluttered open, pleading looking up at his baby brother. Sam just took the blade and pressed it flat to Dean’s lips, silencing any possible protest past the cotton filling his mouth. The previous anger Dean had shown had drained almost instantly at the sight of the silver blade just as Sam had hoped.
He leaned down to whisper in his brother’s ear. “Watch.”
He straightened his back; let the blade trail slowly down his brother’s jaw to his throat. Dean swallowed thickly despite himself and felt the blade press tighter, not yet breaking skin. Sam moved it lower, lifting the blade so that the tip pressed just above Dean’s nipple, layers above where his heart rested. He shifted the blade, watched as the first droplets of crimson welled to the surface and slowly beaded. He moved the blade slowly, careful of the pressure he applied as he drew, no carved, a small X over his brother’s heart. He lifted his eyes, met Dean’s and smirked. “Mine.”
Dean’s body trembled under the press of the blade, but Sam knew his eyes’d been locked on the blade the whole time, straining to see what he’d been doing. He leaned forward slowly, back curving as his lips lowered to lap slowly at the blood pooling from the wound he’d inflicted. He rolled his eyes up, watching Dean struggle to keep his eyes focused as his back arched and his cock twitched against Sam’s thigh. Sam’s lips parted and latched to the skin around the X, sucking hungrily at the coppery fluid seeping from inside. He moaned against Dean’s chest, the blade resting at Dean’s stomach. His free hand curled at his brother’s hips, biting into the skin. When he finally pulled his lips away to look up at his brother, Sam licked his lips slowly and proudly looked down at Dean.
His brother’s eyes were hazy with something Sam couldn’t identify-he’d only seen the look when they were on a hunt, or… like this. Either way, he was pleased. His lips were coated with faint smears of Dean’s blood when he shifted from his chest to lingering above his brother’s mouth. He drew closer, breathing heavily against the wire lips below. He snapped his teeth, catching Dean’s lip and breaking the skin as he let his fingers drift up to the cut, curling into the skin.
Dean’s hips bucked upwards, nearly causing Sam to stumble and lose his balance. He let out a soft whine as his fists balled in the cuffs and his breathing grew ragged. His eyes were frantic, glancing from Sam’s face downwards, perhaps to glimpse the blade-Sam wasn’t sure. It didn’t really matter. What mattered was Dean, naked and writhing and wanting beneath him.
The rush of power that feeling gave him, made Sam’s head swim. He had to close his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply before he could look into his brother’s eyes again. He opened his eyes slowly as Dean’s hip arched and rolled against his own.
“Bad Dean.” He shifted to sit once more, the knife’s blade pressing firmly at the tender flesh at the tip of Dean’s cock. He gasped, his body going instantly still. “Care to move again?”
Dean’s head shook from side to side, his whole body trembling. “Very good. Now I’m going to take off the gag, but you’re not to speak unless instructed. Understood?”
Dean nodded in response, licking his lips and stretching his jaw at the removal of his gag.
“So much beautiful skin to mark… Where should I start?” He tapped the flat of the blade idly against Dean’s cock, watching his brother writhe and moan, biting his lip. “How about…” He slowly traced his way down the hollow of Dean’s thigh to the inner meat. “Here.”
When Dean’s pupil’s grew small and his green eyes grew dark, Sam smirked and pressed blade down into his flesh, cutting a line from mid-thigh to his knee. Dean drew in a sharp breath, pulling harshly at his restraints. Sam’s eyes slowly trailed up his brother’s body from his weeping cock to his begging eyes before smiling.
“Actually, I have a far better idea…” He trailed the blade higher, pressing it tip to tip with Dean’s length, watching as his brother’s breathing grew faster and sharper before pressing the blade to make the tiniest incision.
Dean’s head dropped back as an uncontrolled near screaming moan fell past his lips. Before he could fully register the sting of the metal, it was warm and wet and soothing. Dean lifted his head, catching Sam’s eyes as his mouth wrapped around the head of his cock. Sam teased with tongue and teeth, enjoying how his brother’s body jerked and arched at his touch. He took him deeper, as far as he dared, tongue mercilessly working the fresh wound as he moaned at the metallic and salty taste of Dean’s skin. His mouth moved faster between Dean’s thighs, his nails digging into his hips, the blade having been set flat on his stomach. He could hear the high pitched, keening whimpers from his brother’s lips begging for release. When the clinking of the cuffs grew frantic and rapid, he slid a hand from Dean’s hip to his cock, loosening the cock ring. A final flick of his tongue and Dean spilled hot down his throat. He swallowed carefully, drawing back to gaze lazily down at his brother.
Dean’s eyes were closed, still panting for air when Sam unlocked the cuffs. Both lay still for what seemed like hours, content with each other.
“Remind me to piss you off more often…” Dean’s voice was raspy and thick.
“You do that.”