Give me that Angelic Healing (part 2/3)
Mar. 22nd, 2014 10:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
majestic_duxkPairing: Sam/Dean
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: R
Kinks: wing kink, dub con, come play, biting, marking, orgasm denial, bondage, angel sex
Summary: Sam gets turned into an angel. A toppy angel who thinks he owns Dean.
Part 1 part 3
Dean slowly came back to consciousness. His head felt funny, his mouth dry, and his eyes damp, but a quick pat of his face reassured him there was no blood dripping from anywhere. So he was alive. And reasonably uninjured. He sensed rather than saw a movement to his left.
“Cas?”
“Guess again, kiddo.”
Dean sighed and opened his eyed. Yes. That was indeed the archangel. “What do you want Gabriel?”
“Is that what you should say to the angel watching over you as you sleep?” Gabriel was mock offended, but even as Dean watched, his face fell into a frown. A frown that wasn’t directed at him. And that wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all.
“Gabriel...?” The angel didn’t seem to hear him. “Sammy! Is Sammy ok? He was bleeding… he was screaming!” Dean went to push himself up, but the hand on his chest coupled with his nausea and dizziness kept him on the floor.
“Sam’s ok, Dean.”
This time Dean frowned. What wasn’t Gabriel telling him. A terrible thought crossed his mind. “Cas! What about Cas? IS Cas ok?”
A deep growl echoed throughout the room. Dean and Gabriel turned to see Sam in doorway. Gabriel backed away from Dean slowly, slightly incredulous at the hunters’ terrible sense of timing. Everything he said seemed guaranteed to flame Sam’s possessiveness.
“Sam?”
Dean looked at his brother, and blinked a few times. Castiel must be standing behind him. That was the only explanation for the pair of brilliant wings framing Sam’s body as he stood in the doorway. He didn’t remember Cas’s wings being quite so opulent, but it wasns’t like he saw them often, and it had been a strange day.
“Uh… Cas?”
Gabriel’s head dropped to his hands as Sam roared his anger at hearing another man’s name on Dean’s lips. As Sam stalked towards Dean, Castiel appeared at Dean’s side, one hand directly above the handprint on his arm, the other resting on his waist. It was a blatant statement of ownership.
“Uh, Cas?” Dean repeated in a voice that definitely did not squeak.
“Castiel.” Gabriel’s voice was soft but demanding. “Dean belongs to Sam.” Castiel growled quietly, and did not stand down. Sam’s wings (oh god. The wings were still there. That meant Sam had wings. Sam had wings!) seemed to spread even further, attempting to cow the angel who was holding his mate. The blues and greens in Sam’s wings seemed iridescent and somehow… angry? Dean shook his head. None of this was making sense.
“When did Sam get wings?”
Gabriel’s laugh rang out. “Trust you to miss the important point, kiddo.”
Dean twisted in Cas’s hold. “The fact that my brother is now sprouting wings – fucking wings - isn’t worth commenting on?”
Dean turned back to look at the wings in question. They were stunning. Sam was obviously enraged, (why was that such a turn on? He normally didn’t like Sam being angry…) and his wings were flared out, filling the space. The larger feathers were stiff and sharp, as if he were ready to attack.
“They’re beautiful,” Dean whispered to himself. Unable to help himself, ignoring the order to “Stop!” he moved forward, pulling out of Castiel’s hold. He approached Sam slowly, eyes never moving from the wings displayed before him. He stopped short, running just one fingertip along the outer edge of the wing, ruffling feathers in a long, languorous journey. The feathers softened under his touch, puffing a little as Sam preened. The colours changed, the dominant dark, angry blue settling into a much more sensuous green. Such a beautiful green… The feathers shuddered and he heard a groan. Dean’s head reared back and Sammy was staring at him with hooded, lust filled eyes.
Ah. That’s right. The wings had an owner.
“Sorry Sammy… I should have asked.” Dean backed up slightly. Nervous again. Fuck. Sam was an angel? How did that even happen?? “I… your wings. Never seen colours like that.” It was a question more than a statement, and he turned his head, directing it at Castiel.
The two angels both had looks of resignation on their faces. Sam sneered at them, long arms reaching to pull Dean back, until his back hit Sam’s chest. Again.
“Cas…”
“Even now you are in my arms, talking to another man”. Sam’s voice was low and angry. Oops?
Dean struggled against Sam’s grip, but it seemed even stronger than before. Stupid angel powers. But… if Sam was a baby angel, he was probably weaker than the other angels which meant…
“Does this mean that every time you let me get out of your hold, Cas, it was because you let me???”
Castiel stared at Dean. “Dean. Do you ever thing before you speak?”
Sam’s wings quickly came down, covering the smaller man, shielding him from the others in the room. “Do not speak to my mate, Castiel. Do not even look at him.” The voice was low, but it was clearly an order. Cas’s wings, dark as night, flared out in an aggressive display.
“Stand down, Castiel. Dean is mine!” These last words were growled.
There was a deadly stillness in the room. Dean could see nothing through Sam’s feathers, could hardly hear what was going on, and he was bound with arms like steel. He resigned himself to finding out what had happened later. If anyone listened to him. No one was doing much of that. Bastards! As he contemplated the unfairness that was his life, Dean’s head rolled back to lean against Sam’s chest. It was actually quite nice in here. He felt warm. Safe, even. Dean felt Sam’s heart beat slow and steady beneath his head. Hah. For all Sam’s posturing, he was in control of his emotions. Although… Dean sighed. Why Sam had a hard-on he had to grind into Dean’s ass was a question Dean thought he would never had to ask. Although this was new. Dean frowned. Sam had been actively avoiding touching him for a while. Since he got all growly and bossy really. And possessive. Mine – mine – mine. He was like a child with a favourite toy.
Resigned to his fate for the immediate future, Dean snuggled in further, casually stroking the feathers in front of him. They really were beautiful. And so soft to touch! He started running his fingers through a few, unintentionally grooming the feathers. The action soothed him, and Dean let his thoughts wonder over the last few days. Mates. That word had come up a lot. All the angels kept saying it. He and Sam were mates. What did that even mean? (Dean manfully ignored the fact that he was wrapped in his brothers arms, and his brothers erection poking into his ass. He still didn’t know what ‘mates’ meant, ok?
A light floral scent seemed to fill the space. Dean sniffed a few times. Hmmm. Girly. A last stroke to the feathers in front of him, Dean’s hand shifted to his face. His hand slicked across his cheek. What the fuck? Oil? Where did the oil come from. Dean’s eyes focused on the soft, shiny feathers in front of him. Heh. Such a girl. Sam had floral oil. Dean laughed to himself. Floral oil!
While Dean was snuggled inside the wings, outside Castiel and Sam were engaged in a staring match. Sam could feel the anger thrumming through his body. Not only had Castiel looked at his mate, he held him. Touched him. Dean was his and no one, not an angel of the lord, not an archangel or Norse god would keep him from his mate. Sam put all his anger into his stare. Underneath his wings, Dean was moving about. Touching, and teasing and – oh fuck! The way he ran his fingers through his feathers…
The unmistakable, musky scent of Sam’s arousal – of his wing oil - filled the air. Castiel glanced away, and Sam smiled in triumph.
“You know what he is doing, don’t you Castiel? He’s rubbing my feathers. He’s grooming me. He doesn’t realise that he is coating himself with my scent, making his body receptive to me. Ah… but he will know. My grace will call to him, will sing with him. And he will be mine.”
Sam couldn’t stop the shiver. Dean’s touch was so light – so loverlike. Soon enough he would have those hands all over his body. But first – he had some business.
“He is mine. Will I have to fight you Castiel?”
Castiel looked back at Sam. He looked at the folded wings, could imagine Dean underneath. Cas sighed in defeat, and let his wings settle. He exposed the underside, accepting the other man’s claim. “He has always been yours Sam. I knew that from the moment I pulled him from Hell. However - ” and Castiel’s voice grew hard “ - Dean and I share a bond. A profound bond. Your mating will not override that. Dean will always be under my protection.”
Sam acknowledged that with a nod. No matter how he wished it, he couldn’t destroy the bond – it would destroy Dean. But he could make damn sure that Cas and Dean were never alone together. Sam uncovered his mate, his wings flaring out, a warning to the other angels.
Dean blinked from the sudden light.
“Sammy? What’s going on. Finished your posturing?”
Sam turned Dean in his arms. He looked his brother straight in the eye. “Negotions are over Dean. Now I claim you.”
A swift movement and Dean’s stomach met Sam’s shoulder. A soft ‘oof’ was heard as the air was pushed from his diaphragm. Sam strode towards his bedroom, leaving the angels with the sight of Dean’s wide and terrified eyes. “Sam! Wait! Claim… can’t we talk about this???”
~~~~~~}*{~~~~~~
“Sam! Put me down!” Dean put all the command that a man flailing over a giant’s shoulders could make. Sam snorted and ignored him, marching straight to his room.
“Sammy – you missed my stop. My rooms over – oof!” The air was knocked out of him once more as Sam tossed him on the bed.
Dean scuttled back, until he was flush with the headboard. Sam stood, eyes dark, hands on hips, wings raised once more in dominance.
“Sooooo… You’re an angel now? And are those wings supposed to impress me?” Dean could have winced. Smooth move, Winchester, he chided himself. Luckily he had a lot of practice at maintaining a devil may care face.
“Yep. All angel now. ” Sam was darkly amused. Dean was very good at ignoring things he didn’t want to deal with – and issues with Sam were top of that list. The fact that Sam had been grinding into his ass all day, had been manhandling him, and growling like a rabid dog at anyone else who even looked at him conveniently placed in a box labelled ‘do not open’. Well, Dean couldn’t make a single box that Sam couldn’t open.
“Dean, what do you think I mean when I say you’re my mate?” The slightly panicked look on Dean’s face actually pleased Sam – hopefully it meant Dean was actually thinking about he was saying. Tact never worked with his brother.
“Sam – we don’t need to talk about feelings. I…I’m good with us talking again. I like that.” Dean looked incredibly stressed for a moment, then relaxed. “I’m glad we’re friends again. Yeah. Just being friends is awesome.”
Sam sighed. He had underestimated Dean’s skill at self-delusion.
“So… when my hard cock is rubbing against your ass - you thought it was purely platonic ass grinding?”
Dean looked torn. Of course he didn’t. But fuck! He wished it was the case. So he went with the old Dean Winchester standby: when in doubt, lie.
“Yes?” Shame his lying abilities seemed to get lost in the breathy, garbled mess that actually left his mouth.
“Let me help you out then, Dean.” With a movement so fast Dean missed it, Dean was flipped over, ass up, Sam on top of him. Sam started grinding against him, cock hard and hot, even separated by two layers of denim. “When I do this Dean, it’s not just a friendly greeting. Not just ‘hi Dean! I’m feeling pretty happy today! How are things?’ It’s because I want to get in your ass.” Sam emphasised the point with a thrust. “It’s because your ass looks so fucking hot, and I want to fill you up. And once I’m there I want to fill you so full of come you won’t ever be able to forget it.” Dean was wiggling away – as much from the words as the feeling. “When I hold you tight, and grind like this,” Sam pressed a little harder, “it’s so you remember that you’re mine. That you don’t belong to Castiel, or Gabriel, or whatever angel of the week it is. You. Are. Mine.”
Dean’s mouth fell open. It sounded like Sam called him an angel slut! “Sam! Listen to yourself! This is just some weird angel thing. Just… we can sort this out! We can fix this.”
Sam flipped his brother again (what the fuck is with the manhandling, Dean thought somewhat hysterically), his big hands gripping Dean’s wrists pushing them down beside his head. He lowered his body, so that his hard cock rubbed against Dean’s… well, well, well. Sam gave a voluptuous little hip wave, rubbing his hard length against Dean’s hard length. “There’s nothing to fix Dean. I’ve wanted you for a long time. And I know you want me.” Dean opened his mouth to deny it. Sam just pressed forward, covering Dean’s mouth with his own. Dean’s lipped slammed shut, but Sam nibbled and bit until Dean gasped, and Sam plundered Dean’s mouth, taking what he had been wanting for so long.
Sam’s tongue swept through Dean’s mouth. Touching and tasting and claiming everything, until he finally relented, moving back to draw a breath, leaving Dean gasping for air. Dean’s mouth was wet and swollen, set in a petulant line. Sam couldn’t resist running his thumb along the bottom lip. Dean’s eyes flashed a warning, which Sam heeded a little too slowly to avoid the sharp nip to his thumb. Sam eyed his thumb, then turned to face Dean who looked equal parts pissed off and terrified. “Oh Dean,” Sam said softly, “I like the way you play.”
It only took a thought and then both men were naked. “Son of a bitch!” shouted Dean. “Sammy! What…? Come on, man! Enough playing. You had your fun, your angel mojo is awesome, and you made me feel uncomfortable. Jokes on me. Ha ha. So let’s call it quits.”
Dean had started struggling again, and with one had free was able to get more leverage, half pushing himself up. With a flicker of a thought, Sam’s grace sped out, clasped Dean’s wrists, pinning both to the bed. Sam leant back with a pleased smile.
“Now that’s much better.”
~~~~~~}*{~~~~~~
Dean was worried.
He could admit that now that he was tied up with naked and unable to move.
Now that he had been deeply and thoroughly kissed.
And now that his brother was looking at him like he was a smorgasbord and he just couldn’t decide where to start. And apparently decided on his chin. He took his time, licking and then gently biting until Dean knew he would have a mark there. Then Sam lips moved, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses until he paused at Dean’s collar bone, where he gnawed. Then lathed the red mark with a warm, wet tongue. The soft, “Don’t worry, I’ll be coming back here”, did not reassure Dean before Sam’s mouth was moving once more.
Dean was not at all resigned to his fate. The fact that he couldn’t move was a problem, yes, but Sammy was nothing if not a reasonable man. So Dean started off reasonably.
“Let me go now and I won’t beat your ass, Sam.” Well, he said it in a reasonable voice. Sam’s response was to move back up Dean’s neck and bite.
“Ow! You fucking bastard! Sam!”
Sam leant back and eyed the mark with a dark satisfaction. “You’re mine Dean. Mine” and fuck! If the possessiveness in that tone didn’t make his dick twitch. And given that Sam was plastered to his body, well, Sam definitely felt it.
Part 1 part 3
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: R
Kinks: wing kink, dub con, come play, biting, marking, orgasm denial, bondage, angel sex
Summary: Sam gets turned into an angel. A toppy angel who thinks he owns Dean.
Part 1 part 3
Dean slowly came back to consciousness. His head felt funny, his mouth dry, and his eyes damp, but a quick pat of his face reassured him there was no blood dripping from anywhere. So he was alive. And reasonably uninjured. He sensed rather than saw a movement to his left.
“Cas?”
“Guess again, kiddo.”
Dean sighed and opened his eyed. Yes. That was indeed the archangel. “What do you want Gabriel?”
“Is that what you should say to the angel watching over you as you sleep?” Gabriel was mock offended, but even as Dean watched, his face fell into a frown. A frown that wasn’t directed at him. And that wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all.
“Gabriel...?” The angel didn’t seem to hear him. “Sammy! Is Sammy ok? He was bleeding… he was screaming!” Dean went to push himself up, but the hand on his chest coupled with his nausea and dizziness kept him on the floor.
“Sam’s ok, Dean.”
This time Dean frowned. What wasn’t Gabriel telling him. A terrible thought crossed his mind. “Cas! What about Cas? IS Cas ok?”
A deep growl echoed throughout the room. Dean and Gabriel turned to see Sam in doorway. Gabriel backed away from Dean slowly, slightly incredulous at the hunters’ terrible sense of timing. Everything he said seemed guaranteed to flame Sam’s possessiveness.
“Sam?”
Dean looked at his brother, and blinked a few times. Castiel must be standing behind him. That was the only explanation for the pair of brilliant wings framing Sam’s body as he stood in the doorway. He didn’t remember Cas’s wings being quite so opulent, but it wasns’t like he saw them often, and it had been a strange day.
“Uh… Cas?”
Gabriel’s head dropped to his hands as Sam roared his anger at hearing another man’s name on Dean’s lips. As Sam stalked towards Dean, Castiel appeared at Dean’s side, one hand directly above the handprint on his arm, the other resting on his waist. It was a blatant statement of ownership.
“Uh, Cas?” Dean repeated in a voice that definitely did not squeak.
“Castiel.” Gabriel’s voice was soft but demanding. “Dean belongs to Sam.” Castiel growled quietly, and did not stand down. Sam’s wings (oh god. The wings were still there. That meant Sam had wings. Sam had wings!) seemed to spread even further, attempting to cow the angel who was holding his mate. The blues and greens in Sam’s wings seemed iridescent and somehow… angry? Dean shook his head. None of this was making sense.
“When did Sam get wings?”
Gabriel’s laugh rang out. “Trust you to miss the important point, kiddo.”
Dean twisted in Cas’s hold. “The fact that my brother is now sprouting wings – fucking wings - isn’t worth commenting on?”
Dean turned back to look at the wings in question. They were stunning. Sam was obviously enraged, (why was that such a turn on? He normally didn’t like Sam being angry…) and his wings were flared out, filling the space. The larger feathers were stiff and sharp, as if he were ready to attack.
“They’re beautiful,” Dean whispered to himself. Unable to help himself, ignoring the order to “Stop!” he moved forward, pulling out of Castiel’s hold. He approached Sam slowly, eyes never moving from the wings displayed before him. He stopped short, running just one fingertip along the outer edge of the wing, ruffling feathers in a long, languorous journey. The feathers softened under his touch, puffing a little as Sam preened. The colours changed, the dominant dark, angry blue settling into a much more sensuous green. Such a beautiful green… The feathers shuddered and he heard a groan. Dean’s head reared back and Sammy was staring at him with hooded, lust filled eyes.
Ah. That’s right. The wings had an owner.
“Sorry Sammy… I should have asked.” Dean backed up slightly. Nervous again. Fuck. Sam was an angel? How did that even happen?? “I… your wings. Never seen colours like that.” It was a question more than a statement, and he turned his head, directing it at Castiel.
The two angels both had looks of resignation on their faces. Sam sneered at them, long arms reaching to pull Dean back, until his back hit Sam’s chest. Again.
“Cas…”
“Even now you are in my arms, talking to another man”. Sam’s voice was low and angry. Oops?
Dean struggled against Sam’s grip, but it seemed even stronger than before. Stupid angel powers. But… if Sam was a baby angel, he was probably weaker than the other angels which meant…
“Does this mean that every time you let me get out of your hold, Cas, it was because you let me???”
Castiel stared at Dean. “Dean. Do you ever thing before you speak?”
Sam’s wings quickly came down, covering the smaller man, shielding him from the others in the room. “Do not speak to my mate, Castiel. Do not even look at him.” The voice was low, but it was clearly an order. Cas’s wings, dark as night, flared out in an aggressive display.
“Stand down, Castiel. Dean is mine!” These last words were growled.
There was a deadly stillness in the room. Dean could see nothing through Sam’s feathers, could hardly hear what was going on, and he was bound with arms like steel. He resigned himself to finding out what had happened later. If anyone listened to him. No one was doing much of that. Bastards! As he contemplated the unfairness that was his life, Dean’s head rolled back to lean against Sam’s chest. It was actually quite nice in here. He felt warm. Safe, even. Dean felt Sam’s heart beat slow and steady beneath his head. Hah. For all Sam’s posturing, he was in control of his emotions. Although… Dean sighed. Why Sam had a hard-on he had to grind into Dean’s ass was a question Dean thought he would never had to ask. Although this was new. Dean frowned. Sam had been actively avoiding touching him for a while. Since he got all growly and bossy really. And possessive. Mine – mine – mine. He was like a child with a favourite toy.
Resigned to his fate for the immediate future, Dean snuggled in further, casually stroking the feathers in front of him. They really were beautiful. And so soft to touch! He started running his fingers through a few, unintentionally grooming the feathers. The action soothed him, and Dean let his thoughts wonder over the last few days. Mates. That word had come up a lot. All the angels kept saying it. He and Sam were mates. What did that even mean? (Dean manfully ignored the fact that he was wrapped in his brothers arms, and his brothers erection poking into his ass. He still didn’t know what ‘mates’ meant, ok?
A light floral scent seemed to fill the space. Dean sniffed a few times. Hmmm. Girly. A last stroke to the feathers in front of him, Dean’s hand shifted to his face. His hand slicked across his cheek. What the fuck? Oil? Where did the oil come from. Dean’s eyes focused on the soft, shiny feathers in front of him. Heh. Such a girl. Sam had floral oil. Dean laughed to himself. Floral oil!
While Dean was snuggled inside the wings, outside Castiel and Sam were engaged in a staring match. Sam could feel the anger thrumming through his body. Not only had Castiel looked at his mate, he held him. Touched him. Dean was his and no one, not an angel of the lord, not an archangel or Norse god would keep him from his mate. Sam put all his anger into his stare. Underneath his wings, Dean was moving about. Touching, and teasing and – oh fuck! The way he ran his fingers through his feathers…
The unmistakable, musky scent of Sam’s arousal – of his wing oil - filled the air. Castiel glanced away, and Sam smiled in triumph.
“You know what he is doing, don’t you Castiel? He’s rubbing my feathers. He’s grooming me. He doesn’t realise that he is coating himself with my scent, making his body receptive to me. Ah… but he will know. My grace will call to him, will sing with him. And he will be mine.”
Sam couldn’t stop the shiver. Dean’s touch was so light – so loverlike. Soon enough he would have those hands all over his body. But first – he had some business.
“He is mine. Will I have to fight you Castiel?”
Castiel looked back at Sam. He looked at the folded wings, could imagine Dean underneath. Cas sighed in defeat, and let his wings settle. He exposed the underside, accepting the other man’s claim. “He has always been yours Sam. I knew that from the moment I pulled him from Hell. However - ” and Castiel’s voice grew hard “ - Dean and I share a bond. A profound bond. Your mating will not override that. Dean will always be under my protection.”
Sam acknowledged that with a nod. No matter how he wished it, he couldn’t destroy the bond – it would destroy Dean. But he could make damn sure that Cas and Dean were never alone together. Sam uncovered his mate, his wings flaring out, a warning to the other angels.
Dean blinked from the sudden light.
“Sammy? What’s going on. Finished your posturing?”
Sam turned Dean in his arms. He looked his brother straight in the eye. “Negotions are over Dean. Now I claim you.”
A swift movement and Dean’s stomach met Sam’s shoulder. A soft ‘oof’ was heard as the air was pushed from his diaphragm. Sam strode towards his bedroom, leaving the angels with the sight of Dean’s wide and terrified eyes. “Sam! Wait! Claim… can’t we talk about this???”
~~~~~~}*{~~~~~~
“Sam! Put me down!” Dean put all the command that a man flailing over a giant’s shoulders could make. Sam snorted and ignored him, marching straight to his room.
“Sammy – you missed my stop. My rooms over – oof!” The air was knocked out of him once more as Sam tossed him on the bed.
Dean scuttled back, until he was flush with the headboard. Sam stood, eyes dark, hands on hips, wings raised once more in dominance.
“Sooooo… You’re an angel now? And are those wings supposed to impress me?” Dean could have winced. Smooth move, Winchester, he chided himself. Luckily he had a lot of practice at maintaining a devil may care face.
“Yep. All angel now. ” Sam was darkly amused. Dean was very good at ignoring things he didn’t want to deal with – and issues with Sam were top of that list. The fact that Sam had been grinding into his ass all day, had been manhandling him, and growling like a rabid dog at anyone else who even looked at him conveniently placed in a box labelled ‘do not open’. Well, Dean couldn’t make a single box that Sam couldn’t open.
“Dean, what do you think I mean when I say you’re my mate?” The slightly panicked look on Dean’s face actually pleased Sam – hopefully it meant Dean was actually thinking about he was saying. Tact never worked with his brother.
“Sam – we don’t need to talk about feelings. I…I’m good with us talking again. I like that.” Dean looked incredibly stressed for a moment, then relaxed. “I’m glad we’re friends again. Yeah. Just being friends is awesome.”
Sam sighed. He had underestimated Dean’s skill at self-delusion.
“So… when my hard cock is rubbing against your ass - you thought it was purely platonic ass grinding?”
Dean looked torn. Of course he didn’t. But fuck! He wished it was the case. So he went with the old Dean Winchester standby: when in doubt, lie.
“Yes?” Shame his lying abilities seemed to get lost in the breathy, garbled mess that actually left his mouth.
“Let me help you out then, Dean.” With a movement so fast Dean missed it, Dean was flipped over, ass up, Sam on top of him. Sam started grinding against him, cock hard and hot, even separated by two layers of denim. “When I do this Dean, it’s not just a friendly greeting. Not just ‘hi Dean! I’m feeling pretty happy today! How are things?’ It’s because I want to get in your ass.” Sam emphasised the point with a thrust. “It’s because your ass looks so fucking hot, and I want to fill you up. And once I’m there I want to fill you so full of come you won’t ever be able to forget it.” Dean was wiggling away – as much from the words as the feeling. “When I hold you tight, and grind like this,” Sam pressed a little harder, “it’s so you remember that you’re mine. That you don’t belong to Castiel, or Gabriel, or whatever angel of the week it is. You. Are. Mine.”
Dean’s mouth fell open. It sounded like Sam called him an angel slut! “Sam! Listen to yourself! This is just some weird angel thing. Just… we can sort this out! We can fix this.”
Sam flipped his brother again (what the fuck is with the manhandling, Dean thought somewhat hysterically), his big hands gripping Dean’s wrists pushing them down beside his head. He lowered his body, so that his hard cock rubbed against Dean’s… well, well, well. Sam gave a voluptuous little hip wave, rubbing his hard length against Dean’s hard length. “There’s nothing to fix Dean. I’ve wanted you for a long time. And I know you want me.” Dean opened his mouth to deny it. Sam just pressed forward, covering Dean’s mouth with his own. Dean’s lipped slammed shut, but Sam nibbled and bit until Dean gasped, and Sam plundered Dean’s mouth, taking what he had been wanting for so long.
Sam’s tongue swept through Dean’s mouth. Touching and tasting and claiming everything, until he finally relented, moving back to draw a breath, leaving Dean gasping for air. Dean’s mouth was wet and swollen, set in a petulant line. Sam couldn’t resist running his thumb along the bottom lip. Dean’s eyes flashed a warning, which Sam heeded a little too slowly to avoid the sharp nip to his thumb. Sam eyed his thumb, then turned to face Dean who looked equal parts pissed off and terrified. “Oh Dean,” Sam said softly, “I like the way you play.”
It only took a thought and then both men were naked. “Son of a bitch!” shouted Dean. “Sammy! What…? Come on, man! Enough playing. You had your fun, your angel mojo is awesome, and you made me feel uncomfortable. Jokes on me. Ha ha. So let’s call it quits.”
Dean had started struggling again, and with one had free was able to get more leverage, half pushing himself up. With a flicker of a thought, Sam’s grace sped out, clasped Dean’s wrists, pinning both to the bed. Sam leant back with a pleased smile.
“Now that’s much better.”
~~~~~~}*{~~~~~~
Dean was worried.
He could admit that now that he was tied up with naked and unable to move.
Now that he had been deeply and thoroughly kissed.
And now that his brother was looking at him like he was a smorgasbord and he just couldn’t decide where to start. And apparently decided on his chin. He took his time, licking and then gently biting until Dean knew he would have a mark there. Then Sam lips moved, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses until he paused at Dean’s collar bone, where he gnawed. Then lathed the red mark with a warm, wet tongue. The soft, “Don’t worry, I’ll be coming back here”, did not reassure Dean before Sam’s mouth was moving once more.
Dean was not at all resigned to his fate. The fact that he couldn’t move was a problem, yes, but Sammy was nothing if not a reasonable man. So Dean started off reasonably.
“Let me go now and I won’t beat your ass, Sam.” Well, he said it in a reasonable voice. Sam’s response was to move back up Dean’s neck and bite.
“Ow! You fucking bastard! Sam!”
Sam leant back and eyed the mark with a dark satisfaction. “You’re mine Dean. Mine” and fuck! If the possessiveness in that tone didn’t make his dick twitch. And given that Sam was plastered to his body, well, Sam definitely felt it.
Part 1 part 3
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no subject
Date: 2014-03-23 03:52 am (UTC)*dreamy sighs*
thank you so much for writing me possessive angel!sam, it was something i'd been dying to read for ages!
xox
no subject
Date: 2014-03-23 04:49 am (UTC)SO SORRY.
anyway - it was an AWESOME prompt <3