Half Light
Mar. 26th, 2014 08:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alexisjaneTitle - Half Light
Pairing - Sam/OFC, Sam/Dean
Rating - NC-17
Disclaimer - These are my words but all my base are belong to Kripke, Sera, Ben or whoever so don't sue me. It's just for fun.
Word count - 1400ish
Warnings - Het (IKR!) wincest, voyeurism, masturbation, assplay, PWP
Notes - Oh my god I wrote het...and I didn't throw up!
Just a little something for my best girl![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
saltandburnboys who not only continues to make me deliriously happy writing her marvelous Stockkholm Syndrome!Jensen/Creepy Psycho Love Bunny!Jared even though it terrifies her, but she also landed a job today!
Unbeta'd so lay that feedback on me and try not to laugh too hard at my screwups. Hope this is okay : / x
Half Light
He was almost asleep when he heard the key scraping over the lock, trying to find it’s way in. Dean cursed Sam for the thousandth time that night and was all ready to jump out of bed and tear him a new one but then he heard a giggle that was distinctly not Sam.
He didn’t.
The door fell open and a tangle of Sam and a tall blonde with cropped hair and cropped everything else showing way too much skin, fell in through the gap, giggling quietly, and pawing at each other.
He did.
As they stumbled, towards Sam’s bed, Dean closed his eyes and cursed Sam again. Having to listen to the sound of wet lips, sucking and smacking, Sam shushing her when she started to make too much noise, bumping into the end of Dean’s bed – this was Sam’s final word, his last fuck you from their argument earlier. If you could even call it an argument.
Sam had been acting weird for a month, maybe even longer but Dean had started to call him on it four weeks before and Sam had gotten increasingly pissy, permanently wearing his most effective bitch-face, storming out of whatever room they were in for no apparent reason, until Dean had had enough and the asking ‘what’s wrong, kiddo’ became ‘what in the Hell is eating you, Sammy’, and then earlier, when Dean had ended up slamming Sam against the wall of the motel room.
“I’ve had it up to here, Sam! You tell me what the fuck is going on right now!”
“Get the fuck off me Dean!”
“No! No, not until you tell me!”
“Tell you what?!”
“Tell me what’s going on with you.”
“Dean. Please...I just…”
“Just what, Sammy!”
“I just want…”
“What?! Tell me what you want!”
And that had been it. Sam had torn himself out of Dean’s grip and damn near ripped the flimsy door off its hinges, wrenching it open and slamming it behind him.
Dean thought about going after him but quite frankly he needed the rest and chasing after Sam wouldn’t solve anything. He’d figured giving him time to cool off was the best thing for both of them.
Except it looked like cooling off was the last thing he did.
The smell of alcohol was drifting across from where Dean could clearly make out the pair writhing around on Sam’s bed. Well, he could make out Sam. The girl seemed to be completely shrouded by him. Sam had even pulled the pillow out to the side to block Dean’s view of her face, but he could see Sam’s head dipping down, his lips clearly moving down her throat, his tongue making slick sounds against her skin and then covering her mouth when she moaned as familiar wet sounds started to come from the place where Sam’s hand had snaked under what very little skirt she was wearing.
Dean’s dick twitched. He hadn’t realized quite how painfully hard he was until it did and he couldn’t help making a small noise in his throat. Not small enough apparently as the girl gasped and he saw her push Sam away with both hands on his chest. “What was that!” she rasped out, still whispering but also trying to get her used mouth to work, “Is someone in here with us?”
Dean saw Sam smirk and lower his lips close to her ear to whisper. “No. No, of course not, the walls are just really thin, which is why we have to be quiet. Don’t worry...” He let his eyes draw up slowly, heavy-lidded and met Dean’s gaze with a deep, intense stare. “…it’s just us.”
Dean could hardly breath. He wanted to tear his eyes away, tear himself away, go far far from there, anywhere where Sam wasn’t doing this. Wasn’t doing this to him. Not after he’d fought so hard, for so long. Not to think those thoughts. Not to have those feelings. Not watch his brother peel off his shirt and slide his jeans over his hips, illuminated by the amber streetlight outside and have no control over his need to reach down and take hold of his steel hard cock, already wet at the tip, to smear the precome with his thumb wishing it was Sam's, watch Sam roll on a condom and wish so hard that he could do it for him.
“You still wanna do this?” Sam’s voice was ragged as he positioned himself between the girl’s legs.
She giggled quietly, her hands wandering up over the t-shirt stretched over his chest, “I said I did, didn’t I, you pervert. Do you still wanna?”
Sam chuckled and taking hold of the girl’s wrist, brought her hand up to his panting mouth. “It’s what I want.” Sam mumbled as he drew first one, then two, then three fingers into his mouth.
Dean watched him mesmerized as he sucked and licked and slobbered on her slender hand, the red-glitter tips, emerging briefly before being sucked back in, the noise of Sam’s mouth obscene in the quiet room. Dean’s hand moving on his cock at the same pace as Sam worked his mouth, Dean’s mind flooding with desperate need to know, need to know how it feels – need to know what that tongue feels like – need to know how far he could take me – need to know – need to, until he had to squeeze hard on the base of his cock to stop his orgasm from getting any closer to the surface when Sam pulled her hand away and dipping his head, looked toward Dean again and whispered “It’s what I want.”
Dean barely had a moment to realize what Sam was saying before the girl was moaning as Sam pressed his hips forward, eyelids shuttering as his mouth dropped open and he exhaled. Dean swallowed, and breathed hard too, mirroring Sam as his back arched. But then Sam was shifting and the girl let out a breathy giggle as Sam moved her spit-drenched hand awkwardly back. Dean froze, imagining that the sound of his heart beating must be audible from the other bed, as Sam guided her fingers toward his ass and slowly she pushed them inside him.
“This is what I want.” Sam wasn’t whispering anymore. He was still quiet but his eyes were firmly on Dean as the girl started moving her hand back and forth. “Oh god, it’s all I can think about. You inside me, fucking me, being able to feel you under me , wanting to fuck you, Oh god, that feels good. I want it. Wanted for so long. I can’t help it I just…”
“Oh god, just fuck me already!” The girl pushed hard up inside Sam, all three fingers disappearing and Sam cried out and started moving frenetically, pounding forward, the wet slapping skin on skin, and gasps from the girl on every stroke masking the noise of Dean’s hand on himself, his own hips bucking up, matching Sam’s as he fucked his fist, neither of them taking their eyes off each other until Dean was there and couldn’t help but mouth the word “Sammy” as he came and Sam cried out, and in three hard movements came to a juddering halt, collapsing down.
It wasn’t exactly difficult to stay still and quiet, camouflaged under his mound of blankets, when they disappeared into the bathroom and the shower ran briefly, or while Sam persuaded the girl that yes, it was amazing, yes, it was all he thought it would be and yes, he did think his brother would be back any minute, until finally the door closed and the room was silent again except for the distant sounds of traffic.
Dean heard rather than saw Sam cross the room back to the bed. He paused for a moment at Dean’s but then the sound of his bare feet on the worn carpet moved to his own and he heard the creak as Sam lay down.
Dean led there in the yellow half light for what felt like long enough and then pulled back the covers, slipped off his bed, raised the blanket from a cowering Sam and slid in beside his brother.
Sam lay rigid, making it hard to move his hand when Dean took hold of his wrist but when he eventually got the knuckles to his mouth and kissed them, Sam relaxed. When Dean sucked the first finger into his mouth, Sam’s eyes flew open but it wasn’t until Dean whispered “It’s what I want” that he knew from Sam’s reaction that everything was going to be exactly what they had hoped for.
Pairing - Sam/OFC, Sam/Dean
Rating - NC-17
Disclaimer - These are my words but all my base are belong to Kripke, Sera, Ben or whoever so don't sue me. It's just for fun.
Word count - 1400ish
Warnings - Het (IKR!) wincest, voyeurism, masturbation, assplay, PWP
Notes - Oh my god I wrote het...and I didn't throw up!
Just a little something for my best girl
saltandburnboys who not only continues to make me deliriously happy writing her marvelous Stockkholm Syndrome!Jensen/Creepy Psycho Love Bunny!Jared even though it terrifies her, but she also landed a job today!Unbeta'd so lay that feedback on me and try not to laugh too hard at my screwups. Hope this is okay : / x
Half Light
He was almost asleep when he heard the key scraping over the lock, trying to find it’s way in. Dean cursed Sam for the thousandth time that night and was all ready to jump out of bed and tear him a new one but then he heard a giggle that was distinctly not Sam.
He didn’t.
The door fell open and a tangle of Sam and a tall blonde with cropped hair and cropped everything else showing way too much skin, fell in through the gap, giggling quietly, and pawing at each other.
He did.
As they stumbled, towards Sam’s bed, Dean closed his eyes and cursed Sam again. Having to listen to the sound of wet lips, sucking and smacking, Sam shushing her when she started to make too much noise, bumping into the end of Dean’s bed – this was Sam’s final word, his last fuck you from their argument earlier. If you could even call it an argument.
Sam had been acting weird for a month, maybe even longer but Dean had started to call him on it four weeks before and Sam had gotten increasingly pissy, permanently wearing his most effective bitch-face, storming out of whatever room they were in for no apparent reason, until Dean had had enough and the asking ‘what’s wrong, kiddo’ became ‘what in the Hell is eating you, Sammy’, and then earlier, when Dean had ended up slamming Sam against the wall of the motel room.
“I’ve had it up to here, Sam! You tell me what the fuck is going on right now!”
“Get the fuck off me Dean!”
“No! No, not until you tell me!”
“Tell you what?!”
“Tell me what’s going on with you.”
“Dean. Please...I just…”
“Just what, Sammy!”
“I just want…”
“What?! Tell me what you want!”
And that had been it. Sam had torn himself out of Dean’s grip and damn near ripped the flimsy door off its hinges, wrenching it open and slamming it behind him.
Dean thought about going after him but quite frankly he needed the rest and chasing after Sam wouldn’t solve anything. He’d figured giving him time to cool off was the best thing for both of them.
Except it looked like cooling off was the last thing he did.
The smell of alcohol was drifting across from where Dean could clearly make out the pair writhing around on Sam’s bed. Well, he could make out Sam. The girl seemed to be completely shrouded by him. Sam had even pulled the pillow out to the side to block Dean’s view of her face, but he could see Sam’s head dipping down, his lips clearly moving down her throat, his tongue making slick sounds against her skin and then covering her mouth when she moaned as familiar wet sounds started to come from the place where Sam’s hand had snaked under what very little skirt she was wearing.
Dean’s dick twitched. He hadn’t realized quite how painfully hard he was until it did and he couldn’t help making a small noise in his throat. Not small enough apparently as the girl gasped and he saw her push Sam away with both hands on his chest. “What was that!” she rasped out, still whispering but also trying to get her used mouth to work, “Is someone in here with us?”
Dean saw Sam smirk and lower his lips close to her ear to whisper. “No. No, of course not, the walls are just really thin, which is why we have to be quiet. Don’t worry...” He let his eyes draw up slowly, heavy-lidded and met Dean’s gaze with a deep, intense stare. “…it’s just us.”
Dean could hardly breath. He wanted to tear his eyes away, tear himself away, go far far from there, anywhere where Sam wasn’t doing this. Wasn’t doing this to him. Not after he’d fought so hard, for so long. Not to think those thoughts. Not to have those feelings. Not watch his brother peel off his shirt and slide his jeans over his hips, illuminated by the amber streetlight outside and have no control over his need to reach down and take hold of his steel hard cock, already wet at the tip, to smear the precome with his thumb wishing it was Sam's, watch Sam roll on a condom and wish so hard that he could do it for him.
“You still wanna do this?” Sam’s voice was ragged as he positioned himself between the girl’s legs.
She giggled quietly, her hands wandering up over the t-shirt stretched over his chest, “I said I did, didn’t I, you pervert. Do you still wanna?”
Sam chuckled and taking hold of the girl’s wrist, brought her hand up to his panting mouth. “It’s what I want.” Sam mumbled as he drew first one, then two, then three fingers into his mouth.
Dean watched him mesmerized as he sucked and licked and slobbered on her slender hand, the red-glitter tips, emerging briefly before being sucked back in, the noise of Sam’s mouth obscene in the quiet room. Dean’s hand moving on his cock at the same pace as Sam worked his mouth, Dean’s mind flooding with desperate need to know, need to know how it feels – need to know what that tongue feels like – need to know how far he could take me – need to know – need to, until he had to squeeze hard on the base of his cock to stop his orgasm from getting any closer to the surface when Sam pulled her hand away and dipping his head, looked toward Dean again and whispered “It’s what I want.”
Dean barely had a moment to realize what Sam was saying before the girl was moaning as Sam pressed his hips forward, eyelids shuttering as his mouth dropped open and he exhaled. Dean swallowed, and breathed hard too, mirroring Sam as his back arched. But then Sam was shifting and the girl let out a breathy giggle as Sam moved her spit-drenched hand awkwardly back. Dean froze, imagining that the sound of his heart beating must be audible from the other bed, as Sam guided her fingers toward his ass and slowly she pushed them inside him.
“This is what I want.” Sam wasn’t whispering anymore. He was still quiet but his eyes were firmly on Dean as the girl started moving her hand back and forth. “Oh god, it’s all I can think about. You inside me, fucking me, being able to feel you under me , wanting to fuck you, Oh god, that feels good. I want it. Wanted for so long. I can’t help it I just…”
“Oh god, just fuck me already!” The girl pushed hard up inside Sam, all three fingers disappearing and Sam cried out and started moving frenetically, pounding forward, the wet slapping skin on skin, and gasps from the girl on every stroke masking the noise of Dean’s hand on himself, his own hips bucking up, matching Sam’s as he fucked his fist, neither of them taking their eyes off each other until Dean was there and couldn’t help but mouth the word “Sammy” as he came and Sam cried out, and in three hard movements came to a juddering halt, collapsing down.
It wasn’t exactly difficult to stay still and quiet, camouflaged under his mound of blankets, when they disappeared into the bathroom and the shower ran briefly, or while Sam persuaded the girl that yes, it was amazing, yes, it was all he thought it would be and yes, he did think his brother would be back any minute, until finally the door closed and the room was silent again except for the distant sounds of traffic.
Dean heard rather than saw Sam cross the room back to the bed. He paused for a moment at Dean’s but then the sound of his bare feet on the worn carpet moved to his own and he heard the creak as Sam lay down.
Dean led there in the yellow half light for what felt like long enough and then pulled back the covers, slipped off his bed, raised the blanket from a cowering Sam and slid in beside his brother.
Sam lay rigid, making it hard to move his hand when Dean took hold of his wrist but when he eventually got the knuckles to his mouth and kissed them, Sam relaxed. When Dean sucked the first finger into his mouth, Sam’s eyes flew open but it wasn’t until Dean whispered “It’s what I want” that he knew from Sam’s reaction that everything was going to be exactly what they had hoped for.
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Date: 2014-03-27 08:21 am (UTC)