fic: destiny
Title: destiny
Author: puchuupoet
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Word Count: ~760
Rating: nc-17
Heads-up: chub!kink, bloodplay/consummation
Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened, completely fictional.
Notes: This is all stickingplaster's fault. IDEK I'M DRUNK, OKAY? PEER PRESSURE. DON'T JUDGE ME.
(also, this totally shows that if you get me drunk? I really will write anything for you.)
"God, Sammy." Dean's voice is full of reverence as he watches the blood trickle from the corner of Sam's mouth.
They've been preparing for hours: Dean meticulously checking over the weaponry and the Impala, making sure everything's in ideal working condition. Castiel had been assisting Sam, bringing in the gallon jugs of demon blood from the trunk into the motel room. Sam had eyed the growing number of containers apprehensively until Dean pushed him down in one of the chairs.
"We don't have much time, okay?" Dean's voice had been stern. "Dig in."
Now though, Dean's voice was softer, more reverent than demanding.
Sam groaned as his fingers fumbled with his fly. He's not sure how much blood he's had so far, but his pants are tight and bordering painful, and the only thing on his mind right now is to ease that feeling; to shuck them off completely if he's able.
His zipper's loud in the room, and the noise catches Dean's attention. Dean drops the gun he's working on, turning around to face Sam. Sam doesn't know what it is he does that affects Dean, but suddenly his brother's on his knees, crawling across the floor until he's wedged between Sam's thighs.
"Come on," Dean whispers, his voice catching in his throat, and seeing Dean like this shouldn't affect Sam this way. But it does, and he spreads his legs wider, encouraging him on.
"Dean..." Sam whispers, and that's all it takes before Dean's reaching up, his fingers curling around the edge of Sam's jeans and tugging them down. Once his pants have been tossed across the room, Dean focuses on Sam's shirt, standing up to tug it over and off Sam's head.
There's a soft breeze in the room, and Sam's pretty sure he hears a faint gasp before the door lock clicks into place. His brain registers the noise as Castiel and nothing more, until Dean distracts him again.
His brother slides onto his lap, Dean's ass barely balanced on the edge of Sam's knees. He hadn't realized his belly was that full, but he can hear the blood sloshing around when he shifts under Dean's weight.
"Dean?" Sam doesn't know what to expect, what Dean expects from him right now.
"Shhh," Dean reassures him, and Sam meets his gaze, their eyes locking until cool fingers wrap around Sam's cock.
"Fuck, Dean..." Sam groans out, his hips jerking up for more. "What the hell...?"
"Shut up," Dean murmurs, curving around Sam's stomach until he's nipping at his neck. "Jus' go with it."
Sam shuts up then, instead reaching out to grab at Dean and pull him closer. He can feel Dean's cock slide between the soft folds of his belly; instead of disgust Sam can feel Dean's cock get even harder.
"You like me like this?" Sam's whisper is harsh, and Dean answers with a whimper. "Bursting with power?"
Dean's head drops to rest on Sam's shoulder, his lower body rocking forwards faster now. Sam can feel the slickness there, the soft slap of flesh against flesh and the way Dean's body is shivering against him.
"I gotcha Dean," Sam whispers, leaning up to kiss him, and that's all it takes to break his brother down. Dean clutches at Sam's arm, one foot lifting off the ground as he braces himself with the other.
"Sammy, Sammy," he chants, in rhythm with his thrusts, and out of nowhere Sam's orgasm hits him. His hips jerk up against Dean's thigh, spurting come and fuck if Dean doesn't just pull back even farther and slide his cock through that mess.
When Dean comes he clutches at Sam, hard and rough, his fingernails leaving imprints in Sam's skin. Dean nips at his mouth, gasping out curses and Sam can't tell what's demon blood and what's his anymore.
Dean collapses against him, not caring about the mess he's lying in, and Sam doesn't have the energy to make him move. He can feel Dean's fingers though, stroking over his belly, light touches over taut skin that leaves Sam squirming underneath him.
"Knock it off, Dean." Sam swats at Dean's hand, suddenly self-conscious of his current state.
"You done drinking?" Dean ignores Sam's comment, his hand slowly moving upward until it's tracing Sam's collarbone.
Sam thinks about it for a moment. "If you give me a little bit, I could drink some more."
Dean pulls back and grins at him before standing up. "Come on then." He winks at Sam, and the gesture causes Sam's stomach to twist. "Let's get you into bed."
Author: puchuupoet
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Word Count: ~760
Rating: nc-17
Heads-up: chub!kink, bloodplay/consummation
Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened, completely fictional.
Notes: This is all stickingplaster's fault. IDEK I'M DRUNK, OKAY? PEER PRESSURE. DON'T JUDGE ME.
(also, this totally shows that if you get me drunk? I really will write anything for you.)
"God, Sammy." Dean's voice is full of reverence as he watches the blood trickle from the corner of Sam's mouth.
They've been preparing for hours: Dean meticulously checking over the weaponry and the Impala, making sure everything's in ideal working condition. Castiel had been assisting Sam, bringing in the gallon jugs of demon blood from the trunk into the motel room. Sam had eyed the growing number of containers apprehensively until Dean pushed him down in one of the chairs.
"We don't have much time, okay?" Dean's voice had been stern. "Dig in."
Now though, Dean's voice was softer, more reverent than demanding.
Sam groaned as his fingers fumbled with his fly. He's not sure how much blood he's had so far, but his pants are tight and bordering painful, and the only thing on his mind right now is to ease that feeling; to shuck them off completely if he's able.
His zipper's loud in the room, and the noise catches Dean's attention. Dean drops the gun he's working on, turning around to face Sam. Sam doesn't know what it is he does that affects Dean, but suddenly his brother's on his knees, crawling across the floor until he's wedged between Sam's thighs.
"Come on," Dean whispers, his voice catching in his throat, and seeing Dean like this shouldn't affect Sam this way. But it does, and he spreads his legs wider, encouraging him on.
"Dean..." Sam whispers, and that's all it takes before Dean's reaching up, his fingers curling around the edge of Sam's jeans and tugging them down. Once his pants have been tossed across the room, Dean focuses on Sam's shirt, standing up to tug it over and off Sam's head.
There's a soft breeze in the room, and Sam's pretty sure he hears a faint gasp before the door lock clicks into place. His brain registers the noise as Castiel and nothing more, until Dean distracts him again.
His brother slides onto his lap, Dean's ass barely balanced on the edge of Sam's knees. He hadn't realized his belly was that full, but he can hear the blood sloshing around when he shifts under Dean's weight.
"Dean?" Sam doesn't know what to expect, what Dean expects from him right now.
"Shhh," Dean reassures him, and Sam meets his gaze, their eyes locking until cool fingers wrap around Sam's cock.
"Fuck, Dean..." Sam groans out, his hips jerking up for more. "What the hell...?"
"Shut up," Dean murmurs, curving around Sam's stomach until he's nipping at his neck. "Jus' go with it."
Sam shuts up then, instead reaching out to grab at Dean and pull him closer. He can feel Dean's cock slide between the soft folds of his belly; instead of disgust Sam can feel Dean's cock get even harder.
"You like me like this?" Sam's whisper is harsh, and Dean answers with a whimper. "Bursting with power?"
Dean's head drops to rest on Sam's shoulder, his lower body rocking forwards faster now. Sam can feel the slickness there, the soft slap of flesh against flesh and the way Dean's body is shivering against him.
"I gotcha Dean," Sam whispers, leaning up to kiss him, and that's all it takes to break his brother down. Dean clutches at Sam's arm, one foot lifting off the ground as he braces himself with the other.
"Sammy, Sammy," he chants, in rhythm with his thrusts, and out of nowhere Sam's orgasm hits him. His hips jerk up against Dean's thigh, spurting come and fuck if Dean doesn't just pull back even farther and slide his cock through that mess.
When Dean comes he clutches at Sam, hard and rough, his fingernails leaving imprints in Sam's skin. Dean nips at his mouth, gasping out curses and Sam can't tell what's demon blood and what's his anymore.
Dean collapses against him, not caring about the mess he's lying in, and Sam doesn't have the energy to make him move. He can feel Dean's fingers though, stroking over his belly, light touches over taut skin that leaves Sam squirming underneath him.
"Knock it off, Dean." Sam swats at Dean's hand, suddenly self-conscious of his current state.
"You done drinking?" Dean ignores Sam's comment, his hand slowly moving upward until it's tracing Sam's collarbone.
Sam thinks about it for a moment. "If you give me a little bit, I could drink some more."
Dean pulls back and grins at him before standing up. "Come on then." He winks at Sam, and the gesture causes Sam's stomach to twist. "Let's get you into bed."