Fic: Say No
Jan. 26th, 2019 09:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ellerkayTitle: Say No
Pairing: Soulless!Sam/Demon!Dean
Rating: NC-17/Explicit
Word Count: 1,562
Disclaimer: All for fun, none for profit.
Summary: Demon Dean has gotten rid of Sam's pesky soul, and Sam thinks it's past time they had sex. Dean won't admit how willing he is to bottom, but Sam is not about to let that stop him.
Tags: first time, non-con roleplay, handcuffs, mildly dubious consent, swearing, rough sex, barebacking
Warnings: In the tags, and also: One could wish that Sam had gotten more explicit consent for the non-con roleplay, but he is, y'know, soulless. And Dean is a demon; and, well, they don't really negotiate terms. (Don't take this as a model for non-con roleplay, kids!) Dean's enthusiastic consent is clear to the reader, and Sam certainly seems to be aware of it too. But I wanted to warn anyone who might potentially be bothered by it that this is NOT an example of good kink practice.
A/N: Written for the SPN Kink Bingo, the non-con roleplay square. I posted this a couple days ago, but have been so busy I'm just getting it on LJ! Man, it's hard to keep up with these things. Also, funny story: I told my friend that this week I had written this fic and the hurt/comfort gift fic I posted last, and how fun it was to write this fic even though usually a huge part of the reason I love writing Sam/Dean is the ANGST! and GUILT! and LOVE! and FEEEEEELINGS! My friend commented that maybe these two stories represent the two sides of my personality. XD
Read on AO3
***
“So, are we finally gonna do this thing?” Sam asked Dean. He was grinning lazily.
“What thing?”
“You know.” Sam rose from the motel room chair and walked to Dean’s bed, where Dean was sprawled out. Sam put one knee down on the bed, looming over Dean, and placed a hand on the inside of Dean’s thigh. Dean’s breath caught as he looked up into his brother’s shark eyes. “This thing. Us. The thing we both always wanted, except you were too guilty and I was scared I’d break you.” He leaned down till his face was next to Dean’s neck and inhaled deeply. “I don’t think either of us is worried about that stuff anymore, are we?”
Dean chuckled. “Wow, dude. You could buy a guy dinner first.”
“Waste of time.” Sam’s lips pressed against his neck. “We already took way too long about this.”
Dean shifted slightly. He was getting hard, fast, but he wanted to hide it from Sam. “Fine,” he said casually. “But who’s pitching and who’s catching? I’m not catching.”
“Yeah, you are.” Sam bit down on his neck, and Dean suppressed a moan. How the fuck did Sam know that was his switch trigger? “You already want to.” His hand slid up Dean’s thigh to palm his cock through his jeans, and Dean’s hips jerked.
“No, I don’t,” he said. He did, but he’d be damned – again, some more – if he was going to let Sam know that. He’d only gotten Sam separated from his soul a day ago. This could set a bad precedent.
“Anyway,” Dean continued. “You owe me. I removed that pesky conscience…your inhibitions…the need for sleep…” Sam straightened up.
“And I appreciate that,” he said cheerfully. “I do. Even though you did it so I’d stop trying to cure you all the time. And I’d be happy to show you how grateful I am. But you’re not fucking me tonight.” He looked down musingly at Dean. “Although, if it helps your pride… We could make it a game. You can pretend you’re not dying for my cock.”
“I’M NOT,” Dean lied, ignoring the twist of arousal in his gut at this very intriguing idea. Sam smirked.
“That’s the spirit,” he said. There was an irresistible gleam in his eye, and Dean knew there had to be an answering gleam in his own.
Sam took a step back. “Go on, try to get away,” he said. “I’ll give you a two second head start.”
Two seconds was not reasonable, but Dean knew he wasn’t going to get a better deal. He sprang to his feet and bolted towards the door, only to be tackled to the ground by Sam’s freakishly giant body.
It hurt, but Dean was still hard, responding against his will to Sam’s touch and to the promise of what was to come. He struggled against Sam, realizing with a little flash of excitement that he could feel Sam’s erection against his ass. But Sam was practically just lying on top of him, dead weight Dean couldn’t do anything about. Dean tried anyway, and Sam laughed as he sat up.
Dean felt cool metal around his wrists, and heard the snap of handcuffs shutting. The sense of power that he always felt now, in the background of his mind, dimmed suddenly. Demon cuffs. That little bastard.
Dean snarled, and he could feel his eyes go black. Sam got off him and rolled him over. He grinned when he saw Dean’s eyes, his own sparkling with interest and amusement.
“That’s a good look on you,” he said.
“Uncuff me,” Dean demanded.
“No,” Sam replied. Dean tried to kick him, but Sam just grabbed his calves and pinned them to the floor before swinging a leg over him. He got a thigh between Dean’s and leaned down so Dean’s dick was pressed into it. Sam’s mouth landed on Dean’s in a hard kiss. He thrust his tongue into Dean’s mouth, biting none too gently at Dean’s lips. He was working at the button and zipper on Dean’s jeans as he kissed him.
Fuck, it felt good. Rough and hot and it was Sam. Him and Sam together, just like it was meant to be. No matter what the state of their souls.
Naturally, he couldn’t let Sam know how much he liked it.
“Let me go,” Dean said, when the kiss was over. “You’re not fucking me.”
“Of course I am.” Sam got to his feet and hauled Dean up, shoving him down onto the bed face first as soon as he was upright. He started tugging Dean’s pants and boxers off. Dean tried to kick him again, but after years of childhood fights, Sam was preternaturally good at dodging him. When he’d tossed the jeans aside, Sam pinned Dean’s ankles.
“You gonna let me get some lube, or are you gonna make me tie your legs down?” Sam asked in a low, calm voice. “One or the other.”
“Bastard,” Dean spat, feeling a dark thrill.
“So are you gonna be good?”
Dean looked back over his shoulder at Sam as best he could. He smirked. “Good? No. But I won’t kick again.” Sam grinned and got up. He pulled off his clothes, just slow enough that it was a bit of a show. Dean watched eagerly, drinking in each new inch of exposed skin, the movement of Sam’s muscles. Dean’s wrists were still handcuffed behind his back, and they strained reflexively against the metal. Damn it, how had Sam gotten the upper hand like this? Dean wanted to shove him down and explore that skin. Bite it, mark it up, claim the brother who had always, by rights, belonged to him…
Sam’s cock was jutting out from his body, flushed dark. It was not small, and Dean was glad he’d chosen lube. Sam retrieved said lube from his bag.
“You heal instantly from most anything, right?” Sam asked.
“Yeah. Why?”
“I just wanted to make sure I could do this again in the morning if I wanted to.” Sam smirked and slicked his dick, making sure he was in Dean’s eyeline, letting his head fall back and making breathy little noises as he squeezed himself.
Dean’s eyes widened when he realized what was going on. “Oh, fuck you. You are not putting that thing in me with no prep.”
Sam snickered and re-joined him on the bed. “Nope. Fuck you. And it’ll only hurt for a minute.” He poured more lube into the crack of Dean’s ass, working a little into Dean’s hole, but barely sliding his fingers inside before positioning his cock. Dean was having a hard time not thrusting into the pillow Sam had shoved under his hips, he was so angry and turned on.
The first push burned and Dean growled, gritting his teeth.
“You fucking fucker,” he gasped. It hurt, but the pain was just turning him on more, and he had to force himself not to shove back against Sam’s slow entry.
“Feel good?” Sam inquired.
“Motherfucking son of a bitch asshole shit fucker!” Dean swore. It was almost a litany. Sam laughed. When he was all the way inside Dean, he paused, and in that instant, all the pain evaporated as Dean’s body healed. Sam slapped his ass, hard.
“Mmm, that’s good. How you doing?” he asked.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you,” Dean panted.
“Just keep telling yourself that,” Sam said smugly. Dean tried to twist around to hit him, like that was even the slightest bit possible right now, but Sam eased out of him and then slid back in again, setting a slow, steady rhythm that had Dean biting his lip till it bled to keep himself from moaning aloud. Sam kept him pinned with a firm hand on the back of his neck. Occasionally Dean strained against it, but he wasn’t really fighting anymore.
Sam sped up gradually, thrusting harder and harder until his hips slammed against Dean’s ass on every stroke. Dean felt thankful that his all-black eyes meant Sam couldn’t see how they were rolling back in his head in ecstasy. Suddenly Sam stilled and shuddered.
“Fuck,” he gasped. Dean could feel Sam pulsing inside him, and he couldn’t stifle a groan. He’d been so close to coming, too.
After a few seconds, Sam slid his arms under Dean’s torso and dragged Dean up onto his knees. He pulled Dean’s hair so Dean’s head fell back on his shoulder. Dean’s back and neck were uncomfortably strained over his arms, which were still handcuffed between their bodies.
Sam put an arm around Dean’s waist to keep him upright and wrapped his free hand around Dean’s cock, jerking him roughly. Dean bit his bleeding lip again, trying to hold back, but it only took a few pumps before he was crying out, coming so hard the fluid hit the headboard.
“Knew you wanted it,” Sam said low in his ear. He pulled his cock from Dean’s ass abruptly and leaned over to the nightstand to grab the handcuff key.
“Fuck you,” Dean snapped. Sam freed him and Dean shook the stiffness from his wrists. He glared at Sam, because that seemed like a better idea than admitting that he was about ten minutes away from being ready for round two.
Sam smirked. “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe next time, I’ll say no.”
Pairing: Soulless!Sam/Demon!Dean
Rating: NC-17/Explicit
Word Count: 1,562
Disclaimer: All for fun, none for profit.
Summary: Demon Dean has gotten rid of Sam's pesky soul, and Sam thinks it's past time they had sex. Dean won't admit how willing he is to bottom, but Sam is not about to let that stop him.
Tags: first time, non-con roleplay, handcuffs, mildly dubious consent, swearing, rough sex, barebacking
Warnings: In the tags, and also: One could wish that Sam had gotten more explicit consent for the non-con roleplay, but he is, y'know, soulless. And Dean is a demon; and, well, they don't really negotiate terms. (Don't take this as a model for non-con roleplay, kids!) Dean's enthusiastic consent is clear to the reader, and Sam certainly seems to be aware of it too. But I wanted to warn anyone who might potentially be bothered by it that this is NOT an example of good kink practice.
A/N: Written for the SPN Kink Bingo, the non-con roleplay square. I posted this a couple days ago, but have been so busy I'm just getting it on LJ! Man, it's hard to keep up with these things. Also, funny story: I told my friend that this week I had written this fic and the hurt/comfort gift fic I posted last, and how fun it was to write this fic even though usually a huge part of the reason I love writing Sam/Dean is the ANGST! and GUILT! and LOVE! and FEEEEEELINGS! My friend commented that maybe these two stories represent the two sides of my personality. XD
Read on AO3
***
“So, are we finally gonna do this thing?” Sam asked Dean. He was grinning lazily.
“What thing?”
“You know.” Sam rose from the motel room chair and walked to Dean’s bed, where Dean was sprawled out. Sam put one knee down on the bed, looming over Dean, and placed a hand on the inside of Dean’s thigh. Dean’s breath caught as he looked up into his brother’s shark eyes. “This thing. Us. The thing we both always wanted, except you were too guilty and I was scared I’d break you.” He leaned down till his face was next to Dean’s neck and inhaled deeply. “I don’t think either of us is worried about that stuff anymore, are we?”
Dean chuckled. “Wow, dude. You could buy a guy dinner first.”
“Waste of time.” Sam’s lips pressed against his neck. “We already took way too long about this.”
Dean shifted slightly. He was getting hard, fast, but he wanted to hide it from Sam. “Fine,” he said casually. “But who’s pitching and who’s catching? I’m not catching.”
“Yeah, you are.” Sam bit down on his neck, and Dean suppressed a moan. How the fuck did Sam know that was his switch trigger? “You already want to.” His hand slid up Dean’s thigh to palm his cock through his jeans, and Dean’s hips jerked.
“No, I don’t,” he said. He did, but he’d be damned – again, some more – if he was going to let Sam know that. He’d only gotten Sam separated from his soul a day ago. This could set a bad precedent.
“Anyway,” Dean continued. “You owe me. I removed that pesky conscience…your inhibitions…the need for sleep…” Sam straightened up.
“And I appreciate that,” he said cheerfully. “I do. Even though you did it so I’d stop trying to cure you all the time. And I’d be happy to show you how grateful I am. But you’re not fucking me tonight.” He looked down musingly at Dean. “Although, if it helps your pride… We could make it a game. You can pretend you’re not dying for my cock.”
“I’M NOT,” Dean lied, ignoring the twist of arousal in his gut at this very intriguing idea. Sam smirked.
“That’s the spirit,” he said. There was an irresistible gleam in his eye, and Dean knew there had to be an answering gleam in his own.
Sam took a step back. “Go on, try to get away,” he said. “I’ll give you a two second head start.”
Two seconds was not reasonable, but Dean knew he wasn’t going to get a better deal. He sprang to his feet and bolted towards the door, only to be tackled to the ground by Sam’s freakishly giant body.
It hurt, but Dean was still hard, responding against his will to Sam’s touch and to the promise of what was to come. He struggled against Sam, realizing with a little flash of excitement that he could feel Sam’s erection against his ass. But Sam was practically just lying on top of him, dead weight Dean couldn’t do anything about. Dean tried anyway, and Sam laughed as he sat up.
Dean felt cool metal around his wrists, and heard the snap of handcuffs shutting. The sense of power that he always felt now, in the background of his mind, dimmed suddenly. Demon cuffs. That little bastard.
Dean snarled, and he could feel his eyes go black. Sam got off him and rolled him over. He grinned when he saw Dean’s eyes, his own sparkling with interest and amusement.
“That’s a good look on you,” he said.
“Uncuff me,” Dean demanded.
“No,” Sam replied. Dean tried to kick him, but Sam just grabbed his calves and pinned them to the floor before swinging a leg over him. He got a thigh between Dean’s and leaned down so Dean’s dick was pressed into it. Sam’s mouth landed on Dean’s in a hard kiss. He thrust his tongue into Dean’s mouth, biting none too gently at Dean’s lips. He was working at the button and zipper on Dean’s jeans as he kissed him.
Fuck, it felt good. Rough and hot and it was Sam. Him and Sam together, just like it was meant to be. No matter what the state of their souls.
Naturally, he couldn’t let Sam know how much he liked it.
“Let me go,” Dean said, when the kiss was over. “You’re not fucking me.”
“Of course I am.” Sam got to his feet and hauled Dean up, shoving him down onto the bed face first as soon as he was upright. He started tugging Dean’s pants and boxers off. Dean tried to kick him again, but after years of childhood fights, Sam was preternaturally good at dodging him. When he’d tossed the jeans aside, Sam pinned Dean’s ankles.
“You gonna let me get some lube, or are you gonna make me tie your legs down?” Sam asked in a low, calm voice. “One or the other.”
“Bastard,” Dean spat, feeling a dark thrill.
“So are you gonna be good?”
Dean looked back over his shoulder at Sam as best he could. He smirked. “Good? No. But I won’t kick again.” Sam grinned and got up. He pulled off his clothes, just slow enough that it was a bit of a show. Dean watched eagerly, drinking in each new inch of exposed skin, the movement of Sam’s muscles. Dean’s wrists were still handcuffed behind his back, and they strained reflexively against the metal. Damn it, how had Sam gotten the upper hand like this? Dean wanted to shove him down and explore that skin. Bite it, mark it up, claim the brother who had always, by rights, belonged to him…
Sam’s cock was jutting out from his body, flushed dark. It was not small, and Dean was glad he’d chosen lube. Sam retrieved said lube from his bag.
“You heal instantly from most anything, right?” Sam asked.
“Yeah. Why?”
“I just wanted to make sure I could do this again in the morning if I wanted to.” Sam smirked and slicked his dick, making sure he was in Dean’s eyeline, letting his head fall back and making breathy little noises as he squeezed himself.
Dean’s eyes widened when he realized what was going on. “Oh, fuck you. You are not putting that thing in me with no prep.”
Sam snickered and re-joined him on the bed. “Nope. Fuck you. And it’ll only hurt for a minute.” He poured more lube into the crack of Dean’s ass, working a little into Dean’s hole, but barely sliding his fingers inside before positioning his cock. Dean was having a hard time not thrusting into the pillow Sam had shoved under his hips, he was so angry and turned on.
The first push burned and Dean growled, gritting his teeth.
“You fucking fucker,” he gasped. It hurt, but the pain was just turning him on more, and he had to force himself not to shove back against Sam’s slow entry.
“Feel good?” Sam inquired.
“Motherfucking son of a bitch asshole shit fucker!” Dean swore. It was almost a litany. Sam laughed. When he was all the way inside Dean, he paused, and in that instant, all the pain evaporated as Dean’s body healed. Sam slapped his ass, hard.
“Mmm, that’s good. How you doing?” he asked.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you,” Dean panted.
“Just keep telling yourself that,” Sam said smugly. Dean tried to twist around to hit him, like that was even the slightest bit possible right now, but Sam eased out of him and then slid back in again, setting a slow, steady rhythm that had Dean biting his lip till it bled to keep himself from moaning aloud. Sam kept him pinned with a firm hand on the back of his neck. Occasionally Dean strained against it, but he wasn’t really fighting anymore.
Sam sped up gradually, thrusting harder and harder until his hips slammed against Dean’s ass on every stroke. Dean felt thankful that his all-black eyes meant Sam couldn’t see how they were rolling back in his head in ecstasy. Suddenly Sam stilled and shuddered.
“Fuck,” he gasped. Dean could feel Sam pulsing inside him, and he couldn’t stifle a groan. He’d been so close to coming, too.
After a few seconds, Sam slid his arms under Dean’s torso and dragged Dean up onto his knees. He pulled Dean’s hair so Dean’s head fell back on his shoulder. Dean’s back and neck were uncomfortably strained over his arms, which were still handcuffed between their bodies.
Sam put an arm around Dean’s waist to keep him upright and wrapped his free hand around Dean’s cock, jerking him roughly. Dean bit his bleeding lip again, trying to hold back, but it only took a few pumps before he was crying out, coming so hard the fluid hit the headboard.
“Knew you wanted it,” Sam said low in his ear. He pulled his cock from Dean’s ass abruptly and leaned over to the nightstand to grab the handcuff key.
“Fuck you,” Dean snapped. Sam freed him and Dean shook the stiffness from his wrists. He glared at Sam, because that seemed like a better idea than admitting that he was about ten minutes away from being ready for round two.
Sam smirked. “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe next time, I’ll say no.”
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no subject
Date: 2019-01-27 04:06 am (UTC)Mmmmm. Lovely kinky hotness❤️
We all have a bit of darkness bb. Balance is the key 😆
no subject
Date: 2019-01-27 04:29 am (UTC)Thanks for reading, my dear! Glad you liked it. <3