![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: The Joke's on You
Fandom: SPN
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Words: 750
Rating: Adult
Enticements/Warnings: This is pure crack. With crack sauce. and porn
A/N: for a prompt at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sammessiah so based on the premise that Sam is the Antichrist, but in a totally non-canon-compliant way. for the prompt: Dean figures out that, in retrospect, getting into a prank war with the antichrist was probably a bad idea.
Summary: If Sam won't back down, neither will Dean.
Sure Sam is different now that he has great powers and great responsibility, but he's still Dean's brother, and he still knows how to goad Dean into a prank war. And the mark of a good leader, after all, is that he knows how to delegate, so it's not like Sammy doesn't have the time.
It starts with all Dean's shoelaces going missing, escalates to Dean managing to glue the zippers on Sam's jeans shut while he's wearing them—two days in a row, thank you very much—and now Dean's resting his eyes while he waits to see what Sam will come up with next. Sam's off dealing with some demon problem or another—you can't delegate everything after all—and Dean's just starting to wonder if he's hungry yet when suddenly he's got gay porn playing Technicolor across his eyelids.
Gay porn staring none other than his brother, the king of hell himself, dick sliding in and out of the mouth of one of his minions.
"Enough with the mind tricks, Sammy!" Dean yells, and Sam-in-his-mind does a little shimmy before the image disappears.
Ten minutes later, Sam's back from his meeting, smirk on his face. "Like it?" he asks.
Dean ignores him and sends one of Sam's lackeys out for pizza.
Lacking powers of his own, Dean has to rely on expanding foam in Sam's shoes the next morning to get back at him, but Sam just snaps his fingers and a brand new pair appears, so it's not all that effective. When they're having lunch, though, Sam sends Dean another vision. This time he's fucking one of his minions in the ass while Dean fucks the man's mouth. Vision Sam is watching the guy writhe between them, but real Sam is watching Dean like he thinks Dean is going to freak out or cry uncle.
Dean gets an idea.
Instead of telling Sam to cut it out, he pushes his chair back from the table and slides lower in his seat, popping the buttons on his jeans and sliding his hand inside. "Oh, yeah," he breathes, getting his fingers around his cock. "Like that." The guy in his mind's eye is pretty hot and gives good head, but if Dean's being honest, the fact that Sam is watching him, eyes getting wider and wider is even more of a turn-on. A few strokes and a few more twists of his wrist and Dean goes from half to fully hard.
"Dean?" Sam asks, and the vision falters.
"Sammy, don't stop," Dean moans, giving his voice an edge of desperation he's not yet feeling, but it's never too soon to up the ante.
Sam across the table isn't buying it, though, because he disappears the hot minion in Dean's head and puts himself in front of Dean instead. "Don't stop?" he asks, voice low and dangerous and filthy, and then Vision Sam's hand is on Vision Dean's dick and he pushes Dean against a conveniently appearing wall and kisses him. Which, woah. Not what Dean was expecting.
Even less expected is the way that makes blood rush hot to Dean's cock, making him even harder, making him whimper for fuck's sake.
Before the sound even fades Sam's across the table pushing Dean's chair over, and thank god for telekinesis, because stone floors are hell on the spine with an extra 220 pounds of muscle driving you down. But the landing is feather soft and it's only once Dean hits the floor that he feels his brother's full weight. There's barely time to register it though, because Real Sam is following Vision Sam's lead, and Dean loses all ability to think.
His orgasm hits him like a train. Or like 220 pounds of muscle driving him into a stone floor.
When Dean manages to open his eyes again Sam is leaning over him, smirking. "I win," he says when he sees he has Dean's attention. "Top that!"
Dean can't figure out a way to explain to Sam that in pretty much every universe, even Hell, the guy who has the orgasm is the winner, so he doesn't bother. He just pushes Sam onto his back, rips open his jeans, and swallows his dick whole. Sam squeaks and grabs Dean's hair, and comes twice as quickly as Dean did.
"I think I win," Dean says.
Sam, of course, can't let that lie. Dean really isn't in the mood to argue.
They've missed dinner by the time Sam finally admits they're both winners, but by then it's not exactly a war anymore.
formmom day two
Fandom: SPN
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Words: 750
Rating: Adult
Enticements/Warnings: This is pure crack. With crack sauce. and porn
A/N: for a prompt at
sammessiah so based on the premise that Sam is the Antichrist, but in a totally non-canon-compliant way. for the prompt: Dean figures out that, in retrospect, getting into a prank war with the antichrist was probably a bad idea.Summary: If Sam won't back down, neither will Dean.
Sure Sam is different now that he has great powers and great responsibility, but he's still Dean's brother, and he still knows how to goad Dean into a prank war. And the mark of a good leader, after all, is that he knows how to delegate, so it's not like Sammy doesn't have the time.
It starts with all Dean's shoelaces going missing, escalates to Dean managing to glue the zippers on Sam's jeans shut while he's wearing them—two days in a row, thank you very much—and now Dean's resting his eyes while he waits to see what Sam will come up with next. Sam's off dealing with some demon problem or another—you can't delegate everything after all—and Dean's just starting to wonder if he's hungry yet when suddenly he's got gay porn playing Technicolor across his eyelids.
Gay porn staring none other than his brother, the king of hell himself, dick sliding in and out of the mouth of one of his minions.
"Enough with the mind tricks, Sammy!" Dean yells, and Sam-in-his-mind does a little shimmy before the image disappears.
Ten minutes later, Sam's back from his meeting, smirk on his face. "Like it?" he asks.
Dean ignores him and sends one of Sam's lackeys out for pizza.
Lacking powers of his own, Dean has to rely on expanding foam in Sam's shoes the next morning to get back at him, but Sam just snaps his fingers and a brand new pair appears, so it's not all that effective. When they're having lunch, though, Sam sends Dean another vision. This time he's fucking one of his minions in the ass while Dean fucks the man's mouth. Vision Sam is watching the guy writhe between them, but real Sam is watching Dean like he thinks Dean is going to freak out or cry uncle.
Dean gets an idea.
Instead of telling Sam to cut it out, he pushes his chair back from the table and slides lower in his seat, popping the buttons on his jeans and sliding his hand inside. "Oh, yeah," he breathes, getting his fingers around his cock. "Like that." The guy in his mind's eye is pretty hot and gives good head, but if Dean's being honest, the fact that Sam is watching him, eyes getting wider and wider is even more of a turn-on. A few strokes and a few more twists of his wrist and Dean goes from half to fully hard.
"Dean?" Sam asks, and the vision falters.
"Sammy, don't stop," Dean moans, giving his voice an edge of desperation he's not yet feeling, but it's never too soon to up the ante.
Sam across the table isn't buying it, though, because he disappears the hot minion in Dean's head and puts himself in front of Dean instead. "Don't stop?" he asks, voice low and dangerous and filthy, and then Vision Sam's hand is on Vision Dean's dick and he pushes Dean against a conveniently appearing wall and kisses him. Which, woah. Not what Dean was expecting.
Even less expected is the way that makes blood rush hot to Dean's cock, making him even harder, making him whimper for fuck's sake.
Before the sound even fades Sam's across the table pushing Dean's chair over, and thank god for telekinesis, because stone floors are hell on the spine with an extra 220 pounds of muscle driving you down. But the landing is feather soft and it's only once Dean hits the floor that he feels his brother's full weight. There's barely time to register it though, because Real Sam is following Vision Sam's lead, and Dean loses all ability to think.
His orgasm hits him like a train. Or like 220 pounds of muscle driving him into a stone floor.
When Dean manages to open his eyes again Sam is leaning over him, smirking. "I win," he says when he sees he has Dean's attention. "Top that!"
Dean can't figure out a way to explain to Sam that in pretty much every universe, even Hell, the guy who has the orgasm is the winner, so he doesn't bother. He just pushes Sam onto his back, rips open his jeans, and swallows his dick whole. Sam squeaks and grabs Dean's hair, and comes twice as quickly as Dean did.
"I think I win," Dean says.
Sam, of course, can't let that lie. Dean really isn't in the mood to argue.
They've missed dinner by the time Sam finally admits they're both winners, but by then it's not exactly a war anymore.
for
mmom day two
There are 63 comments on this entry.