FIC: Somewhere In-Between (Robo!Sam/Balthazar NC-17)
Title: Somewhere In-Between
Pairing: Robo!Sam/Balthazar
Rating: NC-17
Word Count:769
Warnings/Kinks: noncon, humiliation, bottom!Sam
Disclaimer: Don't own, still broke
Prompt: Set during 6.11 - Balthazar's changed his mind; instead of killing Bobby to complete the spell, Sam can make up his end of the bargain in... other ways.
Written for blindfold_spn originally posted HERE
......
Balthazar flicks his eyes up and down Sam’s body and clucks his tongue.
“I’m not sure why you’d want to stay like this, Sam. The Terminator movies are so cliché.”
A muscle twitches in Sam’s jaw and it makes Balthazar smirk.
“You going to help me or not?” Sam grits out, eyes shuttered with practiced blankness.
Balthazar pauses and considers his options. This could turn out to be an amusing diversion. “What if I told you that my help has certain conditions?”
He sees the trepidation all over Sam’s face. Humans are much too easy.
“What conditions?” Sam’s voice is wary.
“Take your clothes off.” Balthazar’s words hang there, making the air thick with humidity.
“Why would I do that?” Sam asks sardonically, without even a flinch.
“Oh come on, Sam, you’ve fornicated your way through at least seven states. Isn’t it a little late to get bashful?”
Sam’s mouth twists into a smile as he strips down silently.
“Socks too,” Balthazar instructs, amused by the way Sam is pretending to not care about any of this. He does care though, soul or no soul, and Balthazar can sense it radiating out of Sam’s every pore.
Balthazar’s eyes flit over Sam’s naked form as he wanders over to him, circling. The man is a beautiful specimen of his kind, without a doubt. Hip bones cut like someone took a blade to them. Shoulders wide and rounded and full of obvious strength. Thick, newly uncut cock resting heavily against his muscled thigh.
Sam is still as Balthazar trails one finger around the tic-tac-toe of his abdomen.
“Ever bottom for anyone, Sam?”
Sam doesn’t respond, but he scoffs and contorts his face into his most obnoxious expression.
Balthazar smiles slyly. “Ah, that’s right. You are the very picture of virile masculinity, aren’t you.” He pauses and then slides his hand down the crease of Sam’s cheeks. “Nothing a little cock in ass won’t fix.”
Sam clenches involuntarily and it squeezes Balthazar’s fingers.
“Hands and knees, boy,” Balthazar whispers in Sam’s ear.
Sam turns his head and stares at him hard, directly in the eye. Balthazar can see him warring with himself, the need to control and dominate versus the acknowledgement that a momentary relinquishment of power over his body is a relatively low price to pay for continued autonomy.
To Balthazar’s surprise, Sam leans forward and presses his mouth to his. He licks into Balthazar’s mouth, teeth clacking, and then bites Balthazar’s bottom lip hard enough to draw blood before pulling back. Without a word, Sam gets on the ground on all fours.
Balthazar kneels down beside him and pulls out his vessel’s cock, which is suddenly as hard as steel.
“You think you needed that, don’t you Sam? Think a little bit of my blood on your teeth is going to make this easier.” Balthazar strokes one hand over Sam’s flank and the other hand around his cock.
Sam stays silent, jaw clenched.
Balthazar pries Sam’s ass cheeks open and spits on his hole, letting the saliva drip down his perineum as Sam tries not to move.
“It’s not always about what you want, you know. You and your worthless brother think that both heaven and earth run on your timeline, but you’re wrong. You don’t get to decide anything.” Balthazar presses in until the skin of his balls smack the muscles of Sam’s ass.
Sam grunts but finally speaks. “I’m deciding this.”
Balthazar leans over him, the material of his blazer scratching the naked skin on Sam’s shoulder blades. He wraps a hand through the long strands of Sam’s hair and pulls his head back roughly. “Ah, but you see, it’s just the illusion of choice. All of this. You’re just a pawn, Sam Winchester. A piece on the chess board.”
Balthazar snaps his hips violently, his cock dragging with too much friction in-and-out of Sam’s ass. Only spit and what is probably blood slicks his way.
He presses his face to the side of Sam’s sweat-slicked neck and then licks the salt from his skin. “You hate this so much, don’t you? I can feel it pouring off of you.” He bites down on the part where Sam’s neck meets his shoulder. “You want to hit me, kill me. I can feel the violence in you, Sam. It’s the only thing left in you. Everything else that made you good is finally gone.”
It’s only when Sam finally shudders and hangs his head in the only version of submission he can manage that Balthazar stops moving.
Balthazar blinks and suddenly he is kneeling in front of Sam’s prone head instead of lodged in behind in.
“Look up, Sam.”
Sam looks up at him with as much hatred as a soulless monkey can muster. Balthazar is entranced.
“Good boy.”
Pairing: Robo!Sam/Balthazar
Rating: NC-17
Word Count:769
Warnings/Kinks: noncon, humiliation, bottom!Sam
Disclaimer: Don't own, still broke
Prompt: Set during 6.11 - Balthazar's changed his mind; instead of killing Bobby to complete the spell, Sam can make up his end of the bargain in... other ways.
Written for blindfold_spn originally posted HERE
......
Balthazar flicks his eyes up and down Sam’s body and clucks his tongue.
“I’m not sure why you’d want to stay like this, Sam. The Terminator movies are so cliché.”
A muscle twitches in Sam’s jaw and it makes Balthazar smirk.
“You going to help me or not?” Sam grits out, eyes shuttered with practiced blankness.
Balthazar pauses and considers his options. This could turn out to be an amusing diversion. “What if I told you that my help has certain conditions?”
He sees the trepidation all over Sam’s face. Humans are much too easy.
“What conditions?” Sam’s voice is wary.
“Take your clothes off.” Balthazar’s words hang there, making the air thick with humidity.
“Why would I do that?” Sam asks sardonically, without even a flinch.
“Oh come on, Sam, you’ve fornicated your way through at least seven states. Isn’t it a little late to get bashful?”
Sam’s mouth twists into a smile as he strips down silently.
“Socks too,” Balthazar instructs, amused by the way Sam is pretending to not care about any of this. He does care though, soul or no soul, and Balthazar can sense it radiating out of Sam’s every pore.
Balthazar’s eyes flit over Sam’s naked form as he wanders over to him, circling. The man is a beautiful specimen of his kind, without a doubt. Hip bones cut like someone took a blade to them. Shoulders wide and rounded and full of obvious strength. Thick, newly uncut cock resting heavily against his muscled thigh.
Sam is still as Balthazar trails one finger around the tic-tac-toe of his abdomen.
“Ever bottom for anyone, Sam?”
Sam doesn’t respond, but he scoffs and contorts his face into his most obnoxious expression.
Balthazar smiles slyly. “Ah, that’s right. You are the very picture of virile masculinity, aren’t you.” He pauses and then slides his hand down the crease of Sam’s cheeks. “Nothing a little cock in ass won’t fix.”
Sam clenches involuntarily and it squeezes Balthazar’s fingers.
“Hands and knees, boy,” Balthazar whispers in Sam’s ear.
Sam turns his head and stares at him hard, directly in the eye. Balthazar can see him warring with himself, the need to control and dominate versus the acknowledgement that a momentary relinquishment of power over his body is a relatively low price to pay for continued autonomy.
To Balthazar’s surprise, Sam leans forward and presses his mouth to his. He licks into Balthazar’s mouth, teeth clacking, and then bites Balthazar’s bottom lip hard enough to draw blood before pulling back. Without a word, Sam gets on the ground on all fours.
Balthazar kneels down beside him and pulls out his vessel’s cock, which is suddenly as hard as steel.
“You think you needed that, don’t you Sam? Think a little bit of my blood on your teeth is going to make this easier.” Balthazar strokes one hand over Sam’s flank and the other hand around his cock.
Sam stays silent, jaw clenched.
Balthazar pries Sam’s ass cheeks open and spits on his hole, letting the saliva drip down his perineum as Sam tries not to move.
“It’s not always about what you want, you know. You and your worthless brother think that both heaven and earth run on your timeline, but you’re wrong. You don’t get to decide anything.” Balthazar presses in until the skin of his balls smack the muscles of Sam’s ass.
Sam grunts but finally speaks. “I’m deciding this.”
Balthazar leans over him, the material of his blazer scratching the naked skin on Sam’s shoulder blades. He wraps a hand through the long strands of Sam’s hair and pulls his head back roughly. “Ah, but you see, it’s just the illusion of choice. All of this. You’re just a pawn, Sam Winchester. A piece on the chess board.”
Balthazar snaps his hips violently, his cock dragging with too much friction in-and-out of Sam’s ass. Only spit and what is probably blood slicks his way.
He presses his face to the side of Sam’s sweat-slicked neck and then licks the salt from his skin. “You hate this so much, don’t you? I can feel it pouring off of you.” He bites down on the part where Sam’s neck meets his shoulder. “You want to hit me, kill me. I can feel the violence in you, Sam. It’s the only thing left in you. Everything else that made you good is finally gone.”
It’s only when Sam finally shudders and hangs his head in the only version of submission he can manage that Balthazar stops moving.
Balthazar blinks and suddenly he is kneeling in front of Sam’s prone head instead of lodged in behind in.
“Look up, Sam.”
Sam looks up at him with as much hatred as a soulless monkey can muster. Balthazar is entranced.
“Good boy.”