Fanfic - SPN: Put in a Cup (NC-17, Slash: Sam/Dean)
Title: Put in a Cup [Samdom Universe]
Author: eboniorchid
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester
Prompt: Written as a pick-me-up for amara_m. "038-Excited" for 100moods, challenge table here. "049-Writer's Choice" for 50kinkyways, challenge table here. "019-Writer's Choice Kink" for sam_slut_a_thon, challenge table here. "Sticky fingers" from June 17, 2007, at 365wprompts.
Word Count: ~1250 words.
Rating: NC-17 for language and sexuality.
Warnings/Spoilers: Slightly AU. Kink/BDSM. D/s. Come fetish. Masturbation. Voyeurism. Orgasm control/denial. Established relationship. Wincest. Slash. Smut. PWP. Graphic m/m sex. Comment!fic. No spoilers.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Really. Nothing.
Summary: Never woulda pegged Texas as the kinda place where boys drink come outta cups.
Betas: Thanks be to dendritejungle and traffic_west.
Author's Notes: At the Paley festival, Jared and Jensen were asked "what kind of alcohol do you guys drink" and they said they were "a coupla Texas boys" who "probably drink what you'd imagine a coupla Texas boys drink," to which Jared added, "put in a cup." My first thought was the random and gutter-minded sentence in the summary. Hence, the following dirty, dirty, dirty fic. // You don't need to know this universe for this fic at all, but if you want more info about my Samdom Universe, including links to all installments, please go here.
Office Depot Coupons
Sam's hand was on his cock, stroking steadily as his hips shifted, rocking the foot of the bed where he was sitting. Dean's eyes were locked to the slide of that hand as he clenched his own fingers against his naked thighs, leaning forward in his chair. His cock was hard, bumping up against his taut stomach as he fought with his body over its need to be closer to Sam, replace Sam's hand with his hand and his tongue and his throat.
Sam grunted, fingers slipping over the head of his cock then doubling back before they'd slid down to the base again. He squeezed just under the head with a low moan, his slit spilling out new drops of pre-come to slick his cock with, and Dean's tongue darted to the corner of his mouth, stroking there and remembering the salt and tart of Sam's taste. It made him groan and his hands pressed deeper into his muscles to keep from wandering their way to his cock, because it wasn't allowed.
Sam had said he couldn't come until he'd drunk it all down, licked it all up.
Then Sam's breath became a staccato beat, full of grunts and huffs, as his fingers tightened around his dick and sped, nearly a blur in the quick of their rub. Dean was nearly bouncing in his seat, raring to race over and kneel between his brother's spread legs, to feel the heat and the splash of come on his face, but that wasn't for today. He watched the muscles of Sam's abs and thighs ripple as he pumped up into the grip of his hand, groaning through gritted teeth, and then, just as he shuddered and tensed, Sam closed his fist over the head of his dick with one long moan.
Before the sweat had settled, though, Sam's non-sticky hand reached back on the bed to grab an insignia-stamped shot glass and drag it to his hip. Then he peeled his hand away from his cock and smeared his come, palm and fingers and thumb, over and into the glass, rounding the edge just once to make sure all of the creamy mess was cradled safely inside. Only then did Dean's eyes flick up to his, so heated it was a wonder that his dick was even thinking to take half a minute's rest.
"Come get it."
A ping of arousal seemed to strike at Dean's dick like a tuning fork and fan its vibrations all the way up to the nape of his neck. "Yes, sir."
His legs hit the floor then, crawl-walking on his knees across the span of carpet that separated them, and he panted up as he stopped with his arms brushing against the inside of his brother's calves. Rolling his tongue over his bottom lip, his eyes flicked from the shot glass in Sam's hand, up to his eyes, and back again, before he reached for it.
The glass itself wasn't remarkable at all, a winning from games at some college bar in Austin a few days back, but the thick body-warmed slosh inside was what had Dean puffing hot air over the edge of the glass and biting his bottom lip. He knew it was dirty, low down and so fucking dirty, but from the minute he'd seen those clips on that damn kinky site, come in a cup had become his kind of dirty.
Letting his tongue slip out to pull away a drop of spunk, he sucked it back into his mouth, savoring the tang of it. He grunted, though, at the feel of fingers in his hair, push-pulling his head back.
"Look at me while you eat up my spunk, you fucking sick boy. And I want you coming when you're done, you hear me?"
The firm depth of Sam's voice shook his own out of reach until all Dean could do was nod, eyes holding his brother's as he wrapped his free hand around his cock with a stuttered gasp. As his fist swept up, over, and down on his cock, he began to drag his tongue around the inner walls of the cup, collecting creamy bitter come until his tongue was heavy with it. He saw Sam's eyes darken, fingers crushing and twisting the hair under them as he curled that tongue back between his teeth and ran the tip against the roof of his mouth, flaunting his find. Then he shut his lips with a groan as he swallowed and gripped his dick harder, fucking up into it quick and uneven, his finesse slipping away.
"Damn, you've got a filthy fucking mouth on you."
Sam's words were ground out, low, as his jaw tightened and Dean smirked, lashes flitting down to kiss his cheeks as his eyes caught sight of Sam's cock, flushed and slowly working itself back to stiffness. He opened his mouth wider, fist shifting over his dick with more intent as his lips rounded the edge of the glass and his tongue delved deeper into it. Lapping at stray flecks along the sides, he moaned as his cock jerked in his hand, sac tightening and rear muscles clenching as he felt himself tipping towards orgasm.
He worked his tongue along the bottom of the glass, scooping up the last milky strands of come until it was thoroughly clean and he could taste the weight of the spunk, wrapped up in the flavor of almonds and butter and Sam. His voice cracked in a groan as Sam tugged the empty glass away and set it aside before his hand found its way back to Dean's chin and coaxed his mouth closed with the press of his fingers and one gruff word that burned a line of need straight from Dean's mouth to his cock.
"Swallow."
A tremor of pleasure hit hard then, and Dean's throat worked, dragging that bit of Sam over his tongue and down as he bucked up, pulling on his dick in long rough jerks that had him groaning then crying out. His eyes shut, everything squeezing tight as his body flooded with heat and his cock quaked, shooting thick spurts of come out to warm his hand, the floor, and the bed. His breath stumbled in hitches and sighs as his stroking slowed and he shook out the last evidence of his lust over playing the dirty boy. Finally, he opened his eyes and Sam was beaming down at him, a little naughty, but also slightly amused.
"You get what you wanted?"
"Yeah." Dean nodded slowly, faster as Sam's hand slipped back down to the bed.
"You had enough?"
Dean's mouth opened with a mischievous tilt as he eyed the pillar of dick mere inches from his nose, but all he said was, "Nope."
Sam chuckled, a rich sound that warmed him. "Then get your ass up here and get some more."
Smirking, Dean climbed up to lock lips with his brother, all their tastes blending strong and sweet in his mouth, and he only pulled back when he felt Sam give, yielding some of his control. He shoved Sam down on the bed then, and straddled him, spitting to wet his hand and Sam's dick before sinking slowly down onto it, a groan spilling off his tongue and into the air. Then he rocked his hips against Sam's, muscles tensing around the his brother's dick, and he lifted up with a hissed breath, starting to ride, slow and hard, as his eyes slid shut with a final, husky, "Yes, sir."
Author: eboniorchid
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester
Prompt: Written as a pick-me-up for amara_m. "038-Excited" for 100moods, challenge table here. "049-Writer's Choice" for 50kinkyways, challenge table here. "019-Writer's Choice Kink" for sam_slut_a_thon, challenge table here. "Sticky fingers" from June 17, 2007, at 365wprompts.
Word Count: ~1250 words.
Rating: NC-17 for language and sexuality.
Warnings/Spoilers: Slightly AU. Kink/BDSM. D/s. Come fetish. Masturbation. Voyeurism. Orgasm control/denial. Established relationship. Wincest. Slash. Smut. PWP. Graphic m/m sex. Comment!fic. No spoilers.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Really. Nothing.
Summary: Never woulda pegged Texas as the kinda place where boys drink come outta cups.
Betas: Thanks be to dendritejungle and traffic_west.
Author's Notes: At the Paley festival, Jared and Jensen were asked "what kind of alcohol do you guys drink" and they said they were "a coupla Texas boys" who "probably drink what you'd imagine a coupla Texas boys drink," to which Jared added, "put in a cup." My first thought was the random and gutter-minded sentence in the summary. Hence, the following dirty, dirty, dirty fic. // You don't need to know this universe for this fic at all, but if you want more info about my Samdom Universe, including links to all installments, please go here.
Office Depot Coupons
Sam's hand was on his cock, stroking steadily as his hips shifted, rocking the foot of the bed where he was sitting. Dean's eyes were locked to the slide of that hand as he clenched his own fingers against his naked thighs, leaning forward in his chair. His cock was hard, bumping up against his taut stomach as he fought with his body over its need to be closer to Sam, replace Sam's hand with his hand and his tongue and his throat.
Sam grunted, fingers slipping over the head of his cock then doubling back before they'd slid down to the base again. He squeezed just under the head with a low moan, his slit spilling out new drops of pre-come to slick his cock with, and Dean's tongue darted to the corner of his mouth, stroking there and remembering the salt and tart of Sam's taste. It made him groan and his hands pressed deeper into his muscles to keep from wandering their way to his cock, because it wasn't allowed.
Sam had said he couldn't come until he'd drunk it all down, licked it all up.
Then Sam's breath became a staccato beat, full of grunts and huffs, as his fingers tightened around his dick and sped, nearly a blur in the quick of their rub. Dean was nearly bouncing in his seat, raring to race over and kneel between his brother's spread legs, to feel the heat and the splash of come on his face, but that wasn't for today. He watched the muscles of Sam's abs and thighs ripple as he pumped up into the grip of his hand, groaning through gritted teeth, and then, just as he shuddered and tensed, Sam closed his fist over the head of his dick with one long moan.
Before the sweat had settled, though, Sam's non-sticky hand reached back on the bed to grab an insignia-stamped shot glass and drag it to his hip. Then he peeled his hand away from his cock and smeared his come, palm and fingers and thumb, over and into the glass, rounding the edge just once to make sure all of the creamy mess was cradled safely inside. Only then did Dean's eyes flick up to his, so heated it was a wonder that his dick was even thinking to take half a minute's rest.
"Come get it."
A ping of arousal seemed to strike at Dean's dick like a tuning fork and fan its vibrations all the way up to the nape of his neck. "Yes, sir."
His legs hit the floor then, crawl-walking on his knees across the span of carpet that separated them, and he panted up as he stopped with his arms brushing against the inside of his brother's calves. Rolling his tongue over his bottom lip, his eyes flicked from the shot glass in Sam's hand, up to his eyes, and back again, before he reached for it.
The glass itself wasn't remarkable at all, a winning from games at some college bar in Austin a few days back, but the thick body-warmed slosh inside was what had Dean puffing hot air over the edge of the glass and biting his bottom lip. He knew it was dirty, low down and so fucking dirty, but from the minute he'd seen those clips on that damn kinky site, come in a cup had become his kind of dirty.
Letting his tongue slip out to pull away a drop of spunk, he sucked it back into his mouth, savoring the tang of it. He grunted, though, at the feel of fingers in his hair, push-pulling his head back.
"Look at me while you eat up my spunk, you fucking sick boy. And I want you coming when you're done, you hear me?"
The firm depth of Sam's voice shook his own out of reach until all Dean could do was nod, eyes holding his brother's as he wrapped his free hand around his cock with a stuttered gasp. As his fist swept up, over, and down on his cock, he began to drag his tongue around the inner walls of the cup, collecting creamy bitter come until his tongue was heavy with it. He saw Sam's eyes darken, fingers crushing and twisting the hair under them as he curled that tongue back between his teeth and ran the tip against the roof of his mouth, flaunting his find. Then he shut his lips with a groan as he swallowed and gripped his dick harder, fucking up into it quick and uneven, his finesse slipping away.
"Damn, you've got a filthy fucking mouth on you."
Sam's words were ground out, low, as his jaw tightened and Dean smirked, lashes flitting down to kiss his cheeks as his eyes caught sight of Sam's cock, flushed and slowly working itself back to stiffness. He opened his mouth wider, fist shifting over his dick with more intent as his lips rounded the edge of the glass and his tongue delved deeper into it. Lapping at stray flecks along the sides, he moaned as his cock jerked in his hand, sac tightening and rear muscles clenching as he felt himself tipping towards orgasm.
He worked his tongue along the bottom of the glass, scooping up the last milky strands of come until it was thoroughly clean and he could taste the weight of the spunk, wrapped up in the flavor of almonds and butter and Sam. His voice cracked in a groan as Sam tugged the empty glass away and set it aside before his hand found its way back to Dean's chin and coaxed his mouth closed with the press of his fingers and one gruff word that burned a line of need straight from Dean's mouth to his cock.
"Swallow."
A tremor of pleasure hit hard then, and Dean's throat worked, dragging that bit of Sam over his tongue and down as he bucked up, pulling on his dick in long rough jerks that had him groaning then crying out. His eyes shut, everything squeezing tight as his body flooded with heat and his cock quaked, shooting thick spurts of come out to warm his hand, the floor, and the bed. His breath stumbled in hitches and sighs as his stroking slowed and he shook out the last evidence of his lust over playing the dirty boy. Finally, he opened his eyes and Sam was beaming down at him, a little naughty, but also slightly amused.
"You get what you wanted?"
"Yeah." Dean nodded slowly, faster as Sam's hand slipped back down to the bed.
"You had enough?"
Dean's mouth opened with a mischievous tilt as he eyed the pillar of dick mere inches from his nose, but all he said was, "Nope."
Sam chuckled, a rich sound that warmed him. "Then get your ass up here and get some more."
Smirking, Dean climbed up to lock lips with his brother, all their tastes blending strong and sweet in his mouth, and he only pulled back when he felt Sam give, yielding some of his control. He shoved Sam down on the bed then, and straddled him, spitting to wet his hand and Sam's dick before sinking slowly down onto it, a groan spilling off his tongue and into the air. Then he rocked his hips against Sam's, muscles tensing around the his brother's dick, and he lifted up with a hissed breath, starting to ride, slow and hard, as his eyes slid shut with a final, husky, "Yes, sir."