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allthesmutl0vers · 24 days

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Entirely Forbidden and Completely Fucked- Chapter Seven

Author's Note: Sorry this took me so long to update, but I'm feeling a lot better! Prepare yourself, my lovelies, because this chapter is long and so fucking depraved and fucked up.

Pairings: Sam/Dean, Sam/Reader/Dean

Trigger Warnings: Wincest, Bondage/Restraints, Anal, Spanking, Praise and Degradation, Choking, Blood Play, Knife Play, Marking, Forced and Withheld Orgasms, Snowballing (If you don't know what that is, look it up in Urban Dictionary- Or be surprised, but don't say I didn't warn you.)

Without further ado, may I present:

Chapter Seven: Jericho, Part Two

Dean

“I’m going to get breakfast,” I tell Sam and y/n as I grab my jacket from the back of the chair.

“Good, I’m starving,” y/n says with a groan.

“Keep groaning like that, and we’ll fill you with something other than food,” I retort with a wink.

“Don’t mind if you do,” y/n bites her lip. Sam and I look at each other and chuckle.

I walk outside and see the sheriff and a couple of other cops talking to the hotel manager. “Shit,” I mutter. I notice them looking over at me, and then the manager points to me. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I pull out my phone and hit speed dial for Sam.

“Miss us already?” Sam jokes when he answers.

“Dude, five-oh, take off.”

“What about you?” Sam asks hurriedly.

I look behind me and see them approaching quickly. “Uh, they kinda spotted me. Get y/n and get out of here,” I hang up without waiting for a response and turn to the officers with a smile. “Problem, officers?”

“Where’s your partner?” One cop asks.

“What partner?” I ask jokingly. The cop looks at his partner and points to our hotel room with his thumb. His partner nods and walks toward our room.

“So,” the cop steps up to me. “Fake US Marshal. Fake credit cards. You have anything that’s real?” He asks seriously.

“My boobs,” I smile and laugh.

The cop pins me on the hood of the car and pulls my hands behind my back, slapping on a pair of handcuffs tightly. Shit, maybe we should get a pair of these.

“You have the right to remain silent,” the cop pulls me up and walks to his car. “If you give up that right, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be pointed for you,” he opens the back of the squad car and pushes me inside. “Do you understand these rights as I have just read them to you?”

“If I say no, am I free to leave?” I ask with a smile.

The cop rolls his eyes and slams the door closed.

The cuffs are attached to a bar in front of me on the table of the interrogation room. After what feels like hours, the same cop finally comes in. “So, you ready to give me your real name?” He asks as he sits down on the other side of the table.

I sigh and act bored. “I told you. Ted Nugent,” I answer him.

The cop nods and sits back in his chair. “I’m not sure you realize how much trouble you’re in,” he says warningly.

“We talking like, misdemeanor kind of trouble, or, uh, squeal like a pig trouble?” I ask jokingly.

“You have the faces of ten missing persons on your wall,” the cop says seriously. “Along with a whole lot of Satanic mumbo-jumbo. Boy, you are officially a suspect.”

I can’t help but laugh. “That makes sense. Because when the first one went missing in eighty-two, I was three.”

The cop leans forward. “I know you’ve got partners. Maybe one of them is an older guy. Maybe he started this whole thing.”

“What makes you say that?” I fake interest.

The cop smirks. “That little ‘intern’ of yours is already talking. What’s her name?”

Impossible. Sam got her out.

“Is that so? How’d you make that happen?” I mock.

The cop places his baton on the table and leans in. “You’d be surprised how fast people cave with a little motivation,” the cop seethes.

He has to be lying, but that doesn’t stop my blood from beginning to boil. “You’re lying,” my voice lowers.

The cop smiles and talks into his walkie-talkie on his shoulder. “Bring her in.”

My jaw clenches as the door opens, and the cop's partner drags y/n into the room. My anger threatens to tear through me when he pushes her, and she almost falls. When she looks up at me, I can see the bloody and split lip and the bruise forming under her eye. I instinctively stand up, but the cuffs on my wrist prevent me from reaching her.

“I wouldn't try that again if I were you,” the cop warns me, sitting across the table from me. He looks over at his partner and nods his head.

His partner all but tosses y/n down in the chair next to mine, her hands cuffed but free on her lap. “Let's do this again soon, sweetheart,” I hear his partner mutter softly. “I'll give you my personal baton. Maybe your boyfriend can watch.”

“Enough!” I shout, making the cop next to her jump. “Jesus Christ, enough!”

“Does that mean you're ready to talk?” The cop across from me asks.

“Don't D-”

I throw a warning look over to y/n, who sniffles next to me. She sees the look I give her and knows better than to go against it.

Such a good girl. Or maybe not? How did she even get here? And where is Sam?

One problem at a time.

“I’m ready to fucking end you,” I seethe to the cop in front of me. “Isn’t there a law against police brutality?” I nod my head to y/n.

The cop laughs. “Look, son. I don’t know where you’re from, but here. I am the law.”

“No, you’re a dead man walking,” I spit back.

The cop opens his mouth to respond when another officer opens the door. “Sir. We just got a 911. Shots fired at Whiteford Road.

The cop sighs and stands up, his eyes narrowing on me. “We’ll finish this later,” he says like a threat. “Let’s roll,” he nods to his partner.

When they both leave, y/n sniffles. “Did he touch you? Like me and Sammy do?” I ask her sternly.

She shakes her head. “No. But he was about to when they brought me in here.”

I swallow hard and do my best to keep calm for her. “Where is Sammy?” I ask her.

She shrugs. “I don’t know, I, I ran after you.”

My nostrils flare. “You did what?!” Her eyes widen as she looks up at me. “When I say ‘run,’ you fucking run. If I say stay with Sam, you stay with Sam. How many fucking times do we have to go over this?!”

“I’m sorry, Dean,” She whimpers in an innocent tone that goes straight to my cock. Fuck me.

“We’ll deal with your punishment later. Do you have a bobby pin?” I ask her. She nods and pulls it from her hair and puts it in my fingers.

I get my hands free and free hers. “How are we going to get out?” She asks as I look out the door.

“Can you be a good girl and follow my orders this time?” I ask her. She nods and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “Good, here’s what we’re going to do.”

Sam

Fuck, I can’t believe I lost y/n. Dean is going to fucking kill me. Then I’m going to kill her. I had her in my finger tips, and she got away. I should’ve told her Dean got caught. Maybe then she would’ve listened. But no, she thought he was hurt, and she went after him.

FUCK.

There’s not much I can do now. I saw the cop take her away so I know she’s with Dean. We will find a punishment for her later. Right now, I need to keep working the job. And right now, that entails finding and talking to Joseph Welch.

I look through the rusted and old chain link fence at the house. Walking up to the house, a man comes out. “Hi. Are you Joseph Welch?” I ask him.

“Yeah, who’s asking?” He says to me suspiciously.

“I’m Sam. I’m working on a backstory for my college paper, and I was wondering if I could interview you about your wife Constance,” I lie as I introduce myself, offering him a hand to shake.

The man sighs and we start to walk down the long driveway. “So, what do you want to know?” Joseph asks me.

“Well, one thing that isn’t found anywhere is where she’s buried,” I say politely.

“Why the Hell do you wanna know that?” Joseph asks me with narrowed eyes and stops walking.

“Well, to be honest, another student is writing the same story, and I wanted to get a better grade,” I try to play it off.

He nods and sighs. “In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge.”

“And why did you move?” I ask, writing down the information on my notepad.

“I’m not going to live in the same house where my children died,” Joseph says as we finish walking down the driveway where the Impala is parked.

“Did you ever marry again? I couldn’t find any information about it anywhere,” I ask.

Joseph shakes his head. “No. Constance was the love of my life. The prettiest woman I ever known.”

“So, you had a happy marriage?” I ask.

I can see Joseph hesitate and his response comes out rushed. “Definitely.”

“Mr. Welch, have you ever heard of a ‘woman in white’?” I ask. If I’m going to get the answers I need, I need to push harder.

“A what?” He asks, genuine confusion painted on his face.

“A woman in white. Or sometimes weeping woman?” I ask again. Joseph looks dumbstruck and takes a couple of steps back. “It’s a ghost story, or, more a phenomenon really,” I explain, taking a step closer to him. “Um, they’re spirits. They’ve been spotted for hundreds of years in dozens of places, Hawaii, Mexico, and lately in Arizona and Indiana. All different women,” I take another step closer. “You understand, they share the same story.”

“Boy, I don’t care much for nonsense,” Joseph shakes his head and turns to walk away.

“See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them,” I call after him, and Joseph stops in his tracks. “And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children,” Joseph turns and looks at me, and I continue. “Then, once they’d realized what they’d done, they took their own lives. So now, their spirits are cursed, walking backroads and waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill them. And that man is never seen again.”

“You think…you think that has something to do with…Constance? You smartass!” Joseph says angrily as he walks back to me.

“You tell me,” I tell him, holding my ground. Obviously, I’d struck a nerve.

Joseph sighs and looks down before looking at me again. “I mean…maybe…maybe I made some mistakes. But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would’ve killed her own children,” he explains sadly before he takes a breath and the anger returns. “Now, you get the Hell out of here! And don’t you ever come back!” he yells, pointing to the Impala.

I’m driving down the highway to the house when my phone rings. I pick it up and answer. “Hello?”

“A fake 911 call, Sammy? That’s pretty illegal,” Dean chuckles over the phone.

“Just be thankful,” I chuckle back. “Did you find y/n?”

Dean sighs. “Yeah, yeah, she’s here with me. Say hi, little one.”

“Hi, Sammy,” her voice says on the other line.

“Hi, baby. You’re in big trouble,” I warn her.

Y/n sighs. “I know. De already told me. I’m sorry I ran away.”

“And did De already tell you what your punishment is going to be?” I ask her, my cock starting to strain in my jeans.

“No, not yet,” she says softly.

“Mm. Well, let me talk to De again, baby. We’ll talk about that later,” I instruct her. I want to talk to her, but I need my head in the game, and this call could quickly turn into a sex call.

“Okay,” she says before there is a shuffling noise, and Dean comes back on the phone.

I sigh and explain what I learned from talking to Joseph. “So, get this. Her husband was unfaithful. So, we are dealing with a woman in white. I’m on my way to burn the bones now. Then, I’ll pick you guys up, and we can get the Hell out of dodge.”

“Come pick us up first. We know she picks up men driving alone. I don’t want you out on that highway by yourself,” Dean tells me.

“Well…” I smirk.

“You’re already on the highway, aren’t you?” Dean asks with a sigh.

“I can handle myself, Dean. I’ll call when I’m done. Hotwire a ride, pick up our stuff, and meet me here. By the time I’m done, you should be here,” I respond.

“Trust me, I know you can hold your own perfectly fine,” Dean flirts.

“Then meet me- SHIT!” I swerve, seeing what can only be Constance in the middle of the road.

“Sam?! SAM?!” I can hear Dean yell as my phone falls to the seat of the car.

A chill and a rush of cold air fill the car as Constance appears next to me. “Take me home,” she says softly.

Y/n

“What’s going on?” I ask Dean in panic as he slams the payphone down on the receiver.

“We have to go. She has Sam,” Dean says shortly. He walks to a beat-up car and smashes the driver’s side window. “Get in,” he tells me.

Dean slams on the brakes as we pull up to the Impala and swings open the door. I get out after him and see Constance on top of Sam. Dean cocks a gun and shoots. The glass of the window shatters, making me scream.

She appears again, and Dean shoots again. “Don’t shoot him!” I scream at Dean, my panic overriding my common sense.

“I’m shooting her, damn it. It’s just rock salt, it won’t hurt him!” Dean shouts at me, shooting again. She disappears again for a moment as me and Dean get closer. “Stay back, y/n!” Dean shouts at me as he moves closer to Sam.

“I’m taking you home!” I hear Sam call as the engine roars back to life and shoots forward to the old house.

“SAM!” Dean and I both yell. I scream in fear and worry when the Impala smashes through the side of the house. Wood flies in all directions as Dean and I run to the house.

Dean rips open the passenger side door. “Sam? Sam, are you okay?” He asks in a panic.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright,” Sam coughs.

I turn and see Constance at the bottom of the staircase, holding and looking at a framed picture.

“Can you get out?” Dean asks Sam behind me.

“Yeah, help me,” Sam responds with a grunt as he gets out.

“D-Dean,” I mutter as Constance looks up at me.

Sam pushes me to the side just as Constance pins them to the car with a large chest. Wood pierces my arm, and the blood trickles down. It’s not too big of a wound, but the blood and shock make me dizzy.

Sam and Dean are trying to push the chest away, to no avail. I look around for Dean’s gun when water flowing down the stairs draws my attention.

“You’ve come home to us, Mommy,” the children speak in chorus as they hold hands. These must be her children. Constance looks distraught as her children appear beside her in a flickering light. They each grab one of her hands, and Constance screams as flames start to engulf her and her children for just a moment before they disappear entirely.

Dean and Sam push the chest away and stumble toward me. “Are you okay?” Sam asks me, cradling my arm.

“I’m fine,” I assure him as Dean comes up next to me, inspecting my arm.

“You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy,” Dean praises Sam as he looks at the cut on my arm. “Can you lift your arm, princess?” Dean asks me. I lift my arm above my head with a hiss. “Good, good. Doesn’t look like anything is broken. It just needs to be cleaned up. Are you alright?” Dean asks as he kisses the top of my head.

“I’m fine. Will you two stop fussing?” I ask sarcastically with a raised eyebrow.

“Nope, comes with the job, little sister,” Sam quips with a smack on my ass, making me and Dean laugh. I slap his chest and we all walk back to the car.

“What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?” Sam asks Dean jokingly as we get back to the Impala.

“Hey. I saved your ass,” Dean says as he looks over his car. “I’ll tell you another thing, too. If you screwed up my car,” Dean looks at Sam warningly. “I’ll kill you.”

“So, how exactly did you two manage to break out?” Sam asks as he sits on the bed of the new hotel room we got.

I bite my lower lip with a smile and look over at Dean. “Um, well,” I giggle and look over at Sam. “Let’s just say we gave the remaining officer a show.”

Sam leans back and crosses his arms over his chest. “Oh? And what kind of show would that be?” Sam asks curiously.

“One where I had to knock him out for looking at what's ours,” Dean says calmly as he cleans his gun.

“Do I want to know the rest?” Sam asks me.

I shake my head. “Probably not,” I giggle and walk over to Sam. “But I can show you,” I flirt, running a finger up his large arm.

Sam hums in approval and his hand caresses my hair before tightening around my throat, making me gasp as he pulls me close. “You think that will get you out of your punishment for running away from me, baby?” Sam says mockingly. “Aw, that’s cute. Nice try, but no,” Sam says softly as he keeps a firm grip on my throat.

I feel Dean’s hands on my hips, gripping me tightly from behind. “No running away now,” Dean says as he pulls my jeans down my legs. I let out a soft gasp when his hand cups my pussy over my underwear.

“Dean,” I murmur before Sam claims my lips.

Sam’s hand leaves my throat, and he breaks our kiss just long enough to pull my shirt off over my head, leaving me in my bra and underwear between them. Sam looks over my shoulder at Dean and smiles. “Should we take it easy on her? She’s pretty banged up.”

I hear Dean chuckle darkly behind me as he tears my underwear off with his knife. “She wanted to run away like a big girl, she can get treated like one.”

“I was just trying-” Dean's hand grasps my hair and pulls me back against his chest, making me gasp loudly.

“Was I talking to you?” Dean says harshly in my ear. I shake my head and moan when his fingers trace circles over my clit. “That’s right, I wasn’t. You don’t speak unless you’re spoken to unless you’re screaming our names. Do I make myself clear?” Dean hisses in my ear.

“Yes,” I mutter with a moan.

“Good girl. Now lay back on the bed,” Dean instructs as he lets me go. Sam moves out of the way and I lay down with my head on the pillows.

Sam takes off his belt and binds my hands to the wooden headboard above me, securing me tightly. He smiles menacingly as he unclasps my bra and throws it across the room. Sam looks over at Dean and smiles. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Sam asks him.

Dean pokes his tongue out and licks his bottom lip. The sight sends a shiver down my spine, and I can feel myself getting wetter by the second. “Oh yes, little brother. I most definitely am.”

Dean slides down his jeans and boxers, kicking them to the side and revealing his long, hard cock. I mentally prepare myself for the delicious torture I know they’re about to give me. Just when I think that Dean is going to pounce and thrust into me, Sam drops his pants and boxers and gets on his knees in front of Dean.

I watch with a small gasp as Sam takes Dean’s cock in his mouth and moans when Dean wraps his hands in his hair and forces Sam to take more of him. “Like what you see, little sister?” Dean teases as Sam’s head bobs up and down Dean’s cock.

“Mhm,” I hum and start to rub my legs together. It’s fucked up how much I’m enjoying this, but the time to say no, passed that night on the hood of the Impala. Now, I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to go back.

Dean groans as Sam swallows and gags around his cock. “Keep those fucking legs open. Bad girls don’t get to cum,” Dean demands. My legs fall open with a whimper; the friction I was getting wasn’t nearly enough, but it was better than getting none at all like I am now. “Aw, did our little slut want to cum?” Dean moans as Sam takes his cock to the base.

“Please,” I whimper, fighting the restraint of the belt that holds my arms in place above my head.

Dean pulls Sam off of his cock by his hair. “What do you think, Sammy? Does y/n deserve to cum?” Dean asks with a heavy breath, his cock wet with pre-cum and Sam’s saliva.

Sam looks at me and smirks, licking his lip. I silently beg him to have mercy on me. “No. Not yet. We’re just getting started,” Sam answers Dean’s question while looking at me. My heart sinks and the constant teasing is getting to be too much. I need them. Now.

“Good boy,” Dean praises Sam and pushes his cock back into Sam’s mouth with a groan. “She doesn’t get to cum until we do,” Dean says, looking at me. He thrusts into Sam’s mouth a few more times before I watch him climax, and cum drips from Sam’s mouth and down his chin. Dean pulls back and tips Sam’s face up to his. “Since she wants cum so bad, spit it in her mouth.”

Excuse me?!

I watch in a daze as Sam smiles and walks over to me. He grips my chin and forces my mouth open, then leans in close and spits the mixture of his saliva and Dean’s cum into my mouth. And like the greedy little cum slut I am for them, I stick out my tongue and take it all. The sweetness of Sam’s saliva mixes with Dean’s salty cum and drips down my throat, and I swallow it without being told.

“Fuck, that was so hot,” Dean praises huskily as he settles between my knees and licks a long swipe between my folds. “Take her mouth, Sammy.”

Sam smiles and fists his long and thick cock, bringing it up to my lips. “Open wide, little sister,” he instructs me. I open my mouth and let him inside as Dean swirls his tongue around my clit. “Shit,” Sam curses with a moan as he pulls out to the tip and thrusts into my throat, making me gag.

Dean thrusts three fingers deep inside of me without warning, making my back arch and a loud moan escape around Sam’s cock. “So fucking wet,” Dean growls against my clit.

I try to moan a response, but Sam grips my hair and holds my head steady before thrusting into my throat to the base. Tears prick at my eyes as they begin to water, but it only seems to drive Sam closer to the edge. “Shut the fuck up,” Sam demands with a groan as he pulls out to give me one second of air until he thrusts back into the base again. “Fucking take it, y/n.”

Dean’s tongue flicks my clit faster as his fingers leave my entrance and give me only a moment to collect myself. How am I going to beg to cum if I can’t even ask permission? The question is forced from my mind as something cool and metal probes my entrance. “You wanna cum so bad? You’re going to do it on my knife,” Dean tells me as he thrusts the handle deep inside of me.

I grip the sheets of the bed, and my eyes roll back in my head. Fuck, I’ve never felt anything like this before. Dean’s fingers mix between rubbing and flicking my clit as he thrusts the handle at the perfect angle to hit that sweet spot inside of me that damn near throws me over the edge. “Please,” I beg when Sam pulls out to give me a breath of air again.

“Please, what?” Sam teases as he pinches my nipple between his fingers, making me cry out.

“P-please…let me cum,” I beg as tears fall down my cheeks and my legs begin to shake. “Fuck…I need it,” I stutter as Dean thrusts the handle of his knife inside again.

“Oh, do you now?” Dean teases me as he thrusts the knife handle inside of me again and holds it in place. “I don’t think you deserve it. Since you wanna act like you’re a big girl who doesn’t need her big brothers.”

“I’m sorry! Fuck, Dean! I’m sorry!” I cry out as I fight against the belt holding me in place, and my body writhes for freedom.

Sam grips my throat and forces me to look at him. “A little late for apologies, y/n. Now shut the fuck up and take my cock in that tight little throat of yours,” Sam demands as he thrusts back inside, keeping his grip on my throat. “You swallowed Dean’s cum. Now, you’re going to swallow mine.”

I whimper as Sam continues to assault my throat, and Dean keeps bringing me right to the edge, only to stop and start again. After a few more thrusts, Sam cums down my throat with a loud moan, and I struggle to swallow it all around him. When Sam finally pulls out, I gasp for air as his cum drips down my chin.

“Who do you belong to?” Dean asks me from between my knees.

“You,” I pant as his thumb brushes my overly sensitive clit. “And Sammy,” I finish answering.

“Mhm,” Dean nods in approval and pulls the knife handle from me. “And who gives the orders?”

“You and Sammy,” I moan softly as he continues to tease my clit.

Dean nods and smiles. “Good girl. Let’s make sure you don’t forget it next time,” Dean says as he drags the blade of the knife up my thigh. I hiss in pain as I feel the sharp tip break the skin and cry out when Dean carves something into my thigh. When he’s finished, he leans down and licks the area he cut. He then looks up at me with darkened eyes and shows me the blood on his tongue before swallowing. “Sweet as sin.”

Dean hands the knife to Sam, who takes Dean’s place between my thighs. Dean claims my mouth and my cries for himself as Sam carves something into my other thigh. When he’s finished, Dean unbinds my hands and lifts me onto my knees on the edge of the bed. “Now you may cum, little sister,” Dean says sweetly as Sam climbs behind me on the bed. “But, this time, you’re going to cum with both of our cocks inside that pussy.”

I gasp softly as Sam pushes his cock into my entrance, and my legs already begin to shake. “B-both of you?” I ask as Dean pushes his cock to my entrance as well.

Sam pulls my head back by my hair and kisses my neck. “You can take it,” he says sweetly.

Dean breaches my entrance, where Sam’s cock is already buried deep inside of me, and I cry out. “It’s too much,” I beg as I grip Dean’s shoulders to hold myself up.

“And you’re going to take,” Dean pushes in more. “Every,” he pushes in another inch. “Inch,” Dean demands as he thrusts inside of me completely, stretching me impossibly wide.

I cry out as the pain slowly melts into pleasure as Sam and Dean start to thrust in and out. “God,” I moan loudly as they start to thrust faster as if they’re challenging each other who can thrust in and out the fastest and the hardest.

Dean grips my throat and looks me in the eyes. “Don’t call out to God, y/n. The only people you need to pray to are fucking your tight little cunt right now.”

My nails rake down Dean’s back, and he hisses in pleasure. “More,” I beg as they thrust in again.

“My pleasure,” Sam groans as he pulls back just enough to slap my ass hard. I cry out, and Sam smacks my ass again, even harder.

A switch inside of my flips, and I go absolutely feral. I lock my lips with Dean, fighting his mouth for dominance as our teeth nash at each other’s lips. Sam bites my shoulder and I feel the blood drip down my skin. I need more. I need it all.

Sam pulls me away from Dean, throws me face down on the bed, and slams back into me harder than ever before. I scream in ecstasy as he grips my hair and forces my head up with my chest still smashed into the mattress. “Scream again, y/n. I dare you.”

“Sam!” I scream his name, and a second later, I feel the leather of a belt come down across my ass. “Fuck! Yes! MORE!” I beg loudly.

“I’ll fucking give you more,” Dean promises as he pulls Sam off of me. “Get under her. It’s about time we break in her ass.”

Sam lifts me with ease and sets me back on top of him, thrusting back into my pussy harshly. I moan as Dean settles behind me, and I feel his cock prod at my tight back hole. “Has anyone ever fucked this hole?” Dean asks me.

“N-no,” I mutter as Sam stops thrusting to allow Dean to slide in.

“Good. Now it belongs to me,” Dean says as he pushes his tip inside. I mewl as he pushes in further, stretching me wider.

I grip Sam’s shoulders, my nails digging in as he holds me up. Dean slides into the hilt, and for just a moment, all of the depravity and degradation dissipates. “You doing okay?” Sam gently asks below me. I nod as I close my eyes. “Words, baby. We need to hear your words,” Sam tells me as Dean allows me to adjust to his size.

“I’m okay…just so full,” I moan as the pain disappears.

Dean kisses my shoulder. “The safe word is ‘Red,’ say that, and we’ll stop, you understand me?”

I nod and turn my head to meet his eyes. “Yes, big brother. I understand,” I tell him.

Dean smiles and kisses me. “Good girl.”

Dean pulls out to the tip and thrusts in with a groan of pleasure. Sam starts to thrust inside again, matching Dean’s pace. It’s unlike anything I have ever experienced before, and I feel myself slip and slide down into a headspace I don’t recognize. I feel small and subservient to a degree I’ve never felt. At this moment, I want nothing more than to do anything and everything they ask or demand.

Their thrusts quicken, and I feel myself barrel toward the edge of the orgasm I’ve been craving since this all started. “I’m close,” I moan as I feel them both twitch inside of me, and Sam’s grip on my hips tightens to the point of bruising me.

“Cum, y/n,” Dean demands as he thrusts inside my ass again, and I feel himself spill inside of me.

The feeling is all I need to fall right over that edge, ready to crash and burn. I cum with an Earth-shattering cry as Sam spills himself inside of me next with a loud moan.

Sam and Dean withdraw their cocks, and we collapse onto our backs on the bed with heavy breaths. Dean picks up his phone and mutters. “Shit.”

“What is it?” Sam asks him from my other side.

“Dad has a job for us,” Dean answers as he types.

“Where?” I ask Dean tiredly.

“Blackwater Ridge, Colorado,” Dean answers, sitting up.

“Sounds charming,” Sam chuckles.

“We’ll leave first thing in the morning,” Dean says as he turns to us.

I groan and look over at the clock. “Dean, it’s two in the morning.”

Dean nods. “Then we better get cleaned up and get to bed. We’re leaving at check out at seven.”

I groan and sit up. “Fine, but I call first shower.” I stand up, and my legs wobble like a newborn horse, forcing me to catch myself on the dresser.

Dean and Sam chuckle. “Need some help?” Sam quips.

I turn and smirk. “I’ll be fine.” I make my way to the bathroom, naked as the day I was born. I look myself over in the mirror and can’t help but smile. My hair looks like I was blown through a hurricane, and hickies, bite marks, a bruises from hard fingertips litter my body. But it’s the carvings on my thighs that really bring a smile to my lips. One on one thigh, one on the other.

Dean and Sam

Please feel free to reblog and comment. I hope you enjoyed this chapter 🫶💗

#wincest #samdean #weecest #dean ween #bottom sam winchester #top dean winchester #sam/dean #lemon #spnfandom #spn spicy fanfic

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allthesmutl0vers · 24 days

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Story Update

Chapter Seven of Entirely Forbidden and Completely Fucked drops today!

Prepare yourself for some SERIOUS SMUT.🥵🔥 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Y'all, on some real shit, this is probably the BEST sex scene I have ever written. (And if you've read the smut I've written before, you know that means some seriously fucked up and delicious shit.)

#wincest #samdean #sam and dean #weirdcest #weencest #spn spicy fanfic #lemon #sam/dean #supernatural #ween

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allthesmutl0vers · 26 days

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Entirely Forbidden and Completely Fucked- Chapter Seven (Teaser)

I'm still sick as fuck, but I was able to do a little writing today 🙃 🙂 so here's a teaser for chapter seven.

Feel free to lose your shit in the comments

*Reminder chapters 6 and 7 take place during S1 E1*

#wincest #weencest #samdean #sam/dean #weirdcest #weirdcore #spn spicy fanfic #spnfandom #lemon #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam and dean #sam winchester #dean ween #dean winchester smut

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allthesmutl0vers · 27 days

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Am I delirious on cold meds or is this a good idea?

Imagine this (bear with me):

Dean Winchester: Mercinary for a rich mafia boss, also their kidnapper for those who don't pay their bets.

Klaus Mikaelson, the boss of a filthy rich mafia family. Who gets money from gambling/drug trafficking.

Sam Winchester, his lawyer that handles bribes and deals with law enforcement.

Elijah Mikaelson, his personal body guard and handles the casino business while Klaus handles the drug business.

Enter the reader:

A police officer with a gambling problem and can't pay her debt. But instead of killing her, they make her work in the casino as a stripper. BUTTTTT. A customer gets a lil too handsy and now Dean and Elijah have to handle it. 👀 And thus begins a very fucked, very dark, very possessive, very sexy, whatever you wanna call it. With all of them.

So yeah. Am I delirious or is this a good idea? Lmk in the comments or a reblog.

#wincest #klaus mikaelson #tvd smut #elijah mikaelson smut #sam/dean #spn spicy fanfic #tvd au #spn fanfiction #spn smut

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allthesmutl0vers · 28 days

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Have to take a sick day 🤧

Hey guys, I'm really sick (waiting for my dad to get back with a Covid test). My head is pounding, my body feels like I went three rounds with Demon Dean (and not in a good way), and I'm just exhausted. 🤒🤕

I'm taking a break from updating today and I hope I feel better tomorrow and it's just some 24 hour bug. I'm really sorry for all of you who were looking forward to the 'Entirely Forbidden and Completely Fucked' update today and I promise I will make it EXTRA, EXTRA spicy to make up for it when I'm feeling better. 💔❤️‍🔥

If you need me, I'll be in a NyQuil coma. 😴😷

I'll see you guys soon 🤞❤️ Jack willing.

Xoxo,

SmutL0vers

#wincest #weirdcest #weencest #weecest #dean ween #spn spicy fanfic #spnfandom #lemon #sam/dean #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam and dean #sam winchester #samdean

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allthesmutl0vers · 29 days

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Omg this was just 🥵🥵 SOOO GOOD

Fix Your Attitude

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: (Y/n) is just like an other woman trying to function in this fucked up world - and she's starts her day with coffee. At least that was always the plan until Dean interfered.

Warnings: Language, Smut, Fingering, PinV, slightly Dom! Dean, and if you squint there's maybe possessive/jealous Dean

MDNI! 18+

Word Count: 4470

A/N: So this is technically my first ever one shot! Woop! I've written this as part of my competition from a few weeks back, and this is for the wonderful winner @spookyysinsanity ! Hope you enjoyyy.

“Seriously, Dean? What the actual fuck!?” The audacity of the older Winchester brother had me throwing my hands up in frustration, my irritable tone bouncing off the walls in the kitchen and landing on ears that couldn’t possibly care any less.

“Should’ve got here sooner, sweetheart. You know how it is; first come first serve,” he tauntingly raised his coffee mug to my dishevelled figure standing over the empty coffee pot. The lack of caffeinated bean-water had brought a panic-sweat to my temples, knowing all too well how things would pan out if I didn’t get what I needed.

“How many cups have you had?”

“What?” He blinked frustratingly slowly - he knew what I’d asked.

“Jerk - I said ‘how many cups have you had’?”

“Hmmm…” he tapped his finger against the side of the mug, lips pursing over feigned thoughts.

“DEAN.”

“Maybe… three?” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly - although the nonchalant bubble popped when a sly smirk slipped through the cracks. My mouth opened and closed a few times, words forming and disappearing too rapidly through my mind to even make it past my lips as desperation sizzled into rage.

“You DICK!”

“Hey don’t yell at me - just make another pot,” he held his hands up defensively.

My eyes flitted over to the empty tin on the side - an empty tin left tauntingly in plain sight.

“You know damn well I can’t do that! We’re out of coffee, totally out. Zilch. Nothing. Empty.”

“Well,” he lifted his mug to his lips, “not totally empty.”

“What do you- oh…OH,” I felt my razor sharp glare zero in on the mug at his lips - there had to be at least half a cup in there with how little he had to tilt it up before taking a gulp. I took a step forward and jabbed my finger towards the prize.

“Give me that.”

He offered me nothing but raised eyebrows and a loud slurp.

“Dean.”

Again, silence only echoed back, however my frustration towards him started to buzz in my head as he slowly lowered the mug to unveil a slap-worthy grin.

“DEAN.”

He gently placed the mug on the table and turned to me, large arms crossing over his broad chest as he settled in his chair, thighs spreading wide for comfort.

“Wow, I thought I was grouchy in the mornings before coffee but damn, sweetheart you’re really claiming first place with that one.”

I took a step closer, my eyes practically burning a hole in the cup next to him on the table. His grin widened as he noticed me stalking forwards, like a predator ready to pounce on its unsuspecting prey. However my prey was incredibly suspecting and, in all honesty, not really prey at all. My bare feet padded quietly towards him, each tentative step raising more suspicion in Dean as my desperation for caffeine became all-consuming and my honed hunting skills became sloppy. I gave myself away when I tore my gaze from the mug and glanced over at Dean, catching his amused smirk and playful eyes before I lunged forward, hands grasping at air where the liquid-treasure should have been. Spinning on my heel after almost colliding with the table I turned to face Dean, now standing a few steps behind me with one hand wrapped around the ceramic and the other dipping lazily into the pocket of his jeans.

“Come on darlin’ you’re better than that.”

“Fuck you.”

A low whistle floated in the air between us before he tutted at me, shaking his head slowly.

“So mean.”

“Says you!”

“Hey I got here first - I'm the victim here. You're the one trying to rob me.”

“Don't play that game - you are not the victim here. All of your bullshit has been calculated,” I narrowed my eyes up at him as he traced his tongue over his bottom lip.

“Maybe it has been. Not much you can do about it now though is there?” His eyes glinted like the tricksters before he took another gulp of his coffee. I could feel my palms growing sweaty in apprehension, knowing all too well that the coffee level was dropping inside that cup.

Time to try a different approach. Something more… tactical.

“You know…” I pulled a lock of hair between my fingers, twirling it around, “you're my favourite Winchester.”

I paused and he raised his eyebrows, suspecting yet silently urging for more.

“Sam is just so nice and tall but…” I quietly stepped towards him, inwardly cheering when he made no attempt to move away.

“But?”

“But I mean look at you, so ruggedly handsome… and with that authentic ‘tough guy’ personality to make all the ladies swoon. And don't even get me started on these broad shoulders and big arms of yours…” I padded around him, tracing a single finger delicately up one arm, over the back of his shoulders and down the other arm. I almost missed the small shiver that ghosted over his skin and raised the hairs on his exposed forearms.

“Oh, so you like what you see?” He raised an eyebrow, his voice subtly dropping to a deeper tone.

I chewed my bottom lip slightly before stopping in front of him, a hair's breadth away. From here I could smell the masculine scent of his cologne - the same one I'd only ever known him to wear - and the subtle, intoxicating scent of leather and gunpowder. Combined, those three items were the very essence of Dean, the warmth of it all clinging to his clothes and practically seeping from his pores. I couldn't stop myself from taking a deep breath and letting the hypnotic scent travel straight to my brain. He’d always smelt divine, but I was never going to give him the satisfactory access to that information.

Upon tilting my head up to lock eyes with him, I could feel his coffee-scented breath fan over my face, the smell of what I wanted most almost making my mouth water. I couldn't let myself become enveloped in the addictive haze around him - I needed to remember what I was here for without letting myself become distracted.

Evergreen eyes flitted between mine, unsure of my next move. But the more I looked into them, the more dilated his pupils became. I couldn't help but grin a little to myself, relishing in his reaction.

“Come on Dean, just hand over the coffee. I know deep down that you really want to…”

He hummed, the sound a little gravelly as it emanated from his chest.

“You see sweetheart,” he smirked a little as he gripped the mug, lifting it to his lips. The action immediately caused me to take an urgent step forwards, a part of me truly believing that he would drain the cup right there and then. He must've seen the panic jolt through me as he released a small, breathy laugh.

“I see what?”

“You see… I don't think it's coffee that you need to stop being such a bitch in the morning.”

My eyes immediately narrowed towards him at his choice of words. He can make it so easy to look past his good looks when he acts like such an ass.

“What the actual fuck does that mean?”

“Oh I think you know what it means.”

“Fuck you, Dean.”

“If you want.”

“Go to- wait what?” I felt my heart leap in my chest, my mind unsure if I wanted to have heard him correctly.

His smirk spread across his face as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, his mossy green gaze dragging over my figure as though I were totally naked.

“You heard me,” he took a step forward, his boots heavy on the hard kitchen floor. My cheeks burned, and I wasn't sure if it was from whatever scandalous thoughts of him I'd pushed to the back of my mind that I never intended to humour, or the rage bubbling to the surface at the sheer audacity from him, thinking I'd just accept this sort of shitty attitude.

“You’re crazy if you think that I’d let you in my pants,” the bewilderment in my voice was evident, and so was the growing frustration. This conversation had taken a wild turn and it’s safe to say that I didn’t like the direction it was headed. It was a rocky path of buried desires and a cocky male ego - a male ego that somehow knew what buttons to press to get my temper sizzling.

“Oh but sweetheart I could make it so good…” his voice was like caramel, becoming harder to ignore as he took another step forward, backing me into the table. I swallowed the almost nervous lump that had started to form in my throat, my heart rate quickening with every second he looked at me with those darkening eyes.

“And why would you want to do that?” I did well at hiding the slight nervous wobble in my voice. He chuckled slightly before breaking eye contact and looking down at his boots, thinking for a moment before shooting his eyes back to me, his intense gaze burning into mine.

“Because for once, I’d love to see that smart mouth of yours moan my name.”

I couldn’t stop that small gasp that escaped between my parted lips at his sudden bold statement, and that small gasp seemed to be all that it took to invite Dean in. In one fluid movement he drained the remainder of the coffee into his mouth and took a final step forward, closing the gap between us and wrapped a single strong arm around my waist, pulling me firmly against his body. His other hand quickly discarded the mug before grasping my face, his thumb pushing into my cheek and urging me to open my mouth. Before I was able to conjure a single thought he’d pulled my mouth to his, his plush lips covering mine before transferring that mouthful of coffee over to me. My eyes widened at the sudden appearance of warm liquid gliding over my tongue, the flavour of coffee, sweetened with sugar, would have soothed my senses if it wasn’t for the way it was administered. I hurriedly swallowed it down, not caring for the trickle that escaped the corner of my lips, now more preoccupied with Dean Winchesters mouth pressing onto mine. He allowed one… two… three heated kisses before pulling away, leaving me gasping and gripping the edge of the table for dear life. As he pulled away, he released his grip on my jaw, spotting the trickle of coffee and catching the droplets with his thumb. I didn’t intend to dwell on the action too much, at least not until he pushed his coffee-coated thumb past my lips and into my mouth, pressing lightly on my tongue. Still taken aback by the kiss, I stared up at him dumbly, my mind simultaneously racing whilst emptying itself of all logical thoughts. On instinct, I licked the coffee from his thumb, hearing a gruff hum of approval from him.

“Look at you - quiet for once.”

Before I could retaliate to his comment he pulled his thumb from my mouth and grasped my jaw again, a little softer this time as he guided my face to his. His lips grazed mine as he spoke.

“Have you finished acting like a bitch?”

I nodded.

“Are you sure? Because I think I should fuck you on this table here - just to be sure.”

The involuntary shiver that shimmied down my spine gave my innermost thoughts away when Dean noticed it; another smirk gracing his lips as he pulled himself between my knees and grasped under my thighs to lift me onto the table. I hissed slightly as the cold surface bit at my bare rear, the oversized Metallica t-shirt doing nothing to shield me as it rode up on my hips. There was a short moment, like a breath taken and held as we paused to look at each other. His eyes darkened like a forest at dusk, piercing into my own before studying my lips. I found myself doing the same to him, watching how his gaze darted up and down, frantic to find a focal point on my face whilst his lips parted, tongue poking out to wet them. We shared each other's hot coffee-scented breath, my heartbeat starting to echo in my ears as my blood began to run hot at the thought of him taking me right here on this table. He chewed slightly on his bottom lip, the fantasies of my own prurient mind running rampant at what that mouth was capable of doing to me. What I undeniably wanted it to do to me. Before another thought appeared he hastily leaned in and planted a searing kiss on my neck, his stubble tickling my ear whilst one large, strong hand planted itself just below my shoulder blades; his whole arm crushing me against him. Everything he did made me want to purr. His lips exceeded expectations as he kissed red-hot paths up and down my neck; my skin prickling when he pressed his lips below my ear and jaw, pulling pathetic whimpers from my lungs. He kneaded the silky-soft flesh of my thigh with his other hand, eventually causing me to gently hook my legs around him to ease the desperate need to writhe at his every touch.

“Dean…” his name left my lips as an airy gasp when the hand on my thigh travelled up, his thumb hooking under the waistband of my panties.

“What happened to that big, tough girl persona? Can’t really take it huh?” His taunting words went straight to my brain when he spoke them with his lips pressed right to my ear.

“Fuck, Dean… I hate you.”

He chuckled, placing a kiss on my cheek before uttering over my lips:

“Of course you do, sweetheart.”

As his sentence ceased as his mouth claimed mine, muffling the moan bubbling in my throat as his tongue pushed against my own. I reached one hand up to tug on his hair, dragging my nails across his scalp when the strands at the base of his skull were too short to grasp. He groaned into the kiss, lips moving faster at the sensation of my fingertips. His broad chest became a resting spot for my other hand, the taught muscle flexing beneath soft skin as I glided my delicate fingers up to clutch his shoulder. It was like being in a trance; the only thing I was capable of thinking about was him. Dean. The strength of his hand on my back contrasting the tenderness of the one on my thigh. The heat of his mouth, his tongue on mine, consuming my gasps and ragged breaths. His devouring reduced me to naught but lustful putty in his arms, especially when an assured hand slid from my hip to my ribs and a gentle thumb smoothed over the softness of the underside of my breast. The feather-light touch caused goosebumps to erupt on my skin, the warmth of his palm doing nothing to soothe them away. When a groan passed my lips at his actions, he gripped tighter, my legs instinctively pulling him closer. This time it was Dean that groaned, as pulling him towards me had pressed the ever-growing bulge in his jeans against the soft cotton of my panties. The sensation was electric, igniting the fiery ache between my legs as my thighs twitched when he didn't pull away - instead pushing himself against me harder. I sucked in a breath where I could, his lips refusing to leave mine, even to let me breathe. He was hungry. Animalistic. Dominating. I don't know what I'd been imagining when I was alone in my room in the depths of night, but this… this was something I'd never fantasised about. How commanding he was, how he pulled me in with stern words and an air of authority. Gone was the boyish charm and playful pickup lines - this was something that could easily suck me in and pull me under. He could drown me in sharp comments and tantalising games.

And I would let him.

“Look at you, twitching like a virgin,” he pulled away enough to huskily speak against the corner of my mouth. I moaned slightly, biting my lip when his thumb moved from the underside of my breast to my nipple, delicately toying with the perky skin.

“Who's to say I'm not?” My voice was more breathy than I'd anticipated, my head lolling back when he started to trail kisses down my neck again. My comment pulled a laugh from his chest, the sound almost cutting through the sexual haze.

“Oh darlin’, don't think I don't know about your motel room escapades - I was always in the room next to yours,” he finally pulled back slightly to look at me, the cool air flooding between us in his absence. As my eyes met his, my heart hammered in my chest at the raw blackness of his irises - pupils blown wide with hot arousal and leaving no soft greens in sight. I could feel my cheeks heating up with embarrassment, realisation creeping in. Dean took it all in with a grin on his lips.

“That's right sweetheart - I heard it all. Every little noise you made when those jerk-offs touched you. When they tried to make you feel good,” his smile faltered slightly before he leaned in a little closer, “but you know, I never heard any of them make you cum. I only ever heard you finish when they were gone and you were all alone.”

He pressed more of those red-hot kisses just below my jaw, the hand on my breast descending, trailing a path down the soft skin of my abdomen before disappearing down the front of my panties. A moan tore from my throat when he slid his skilled fingers through my folds to gather my pooling wetness, his hum of approval ringing in my ears when my mind emptied at his fingers tracing circles around my clit. My grip on him was vice-like, whimpers already tumbling off my tongue.

“You know (Y/n), you should've just come to me. You should've told those useless bastards to fuck off and let me do everything you needed me to do,” his breath was hot against my neck as he spoke, and he finished his sentence off by finally pressing a rough finger against my clit. I whined like a bitch in heat as he went around and around and around, making me clench around nothing and crave him in his entirety.

“I would've done this to you every night - made you forget everything but my name.”

“Dean…”

“Thas’right sweetheart. Never would've left you unsatisfied.”

“Please, Dean… please… I need you to fuck me,” my words were desperate and I could tell he relished in that, suddenly plunging two thick digits inside me without so much as a word. My hands flew to his back, nails digging into broad muscle as I leaned into him, burying my flushed face into his neck and breathing in his intoxicating scent. He curled his fingers up and pushed against the pleasure-cushion inside me, knowing exactly what to look for and what to do with it. My legs tightened even more around him as I was unable to stop the euphoric twitches jolting through my limbs. He removed his hand that was pressed below my shoulder blades and lifted it to my hair, unclipping the claw-grip to let the unruliness tumble out. He practically chucked the plastic clip to the table before threading his fingers through my hair, grasping close to my scalp before tugging my head back to make me look at him.

“Now that you've dropped your attitude and asked nicely, I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk.”

He pressed his fingers inside me one final time, drawing another pathetic whimper from my lips before pulling his fingers out and lifting them to his lips. I watched, mouth agape and breaths ragged as he licked my slick from his digits, savouring the taste of me with a satisfied groan.

“That’s the best shit I’ve ever tasted,” his deep, gravelly tone had me reaching desperately for his belt buckle as Dean claimed my mouth again, his own eagerness starting to show. As I finished unzipping his jeans I pushed them down his hips just enough to dip my hand into his boxers and pull his cock free. A deep moan pushed its way into my mouth as I curled my fingers around his length, his size already intimidating as his cock rested hot and heavy in my palm. I wasted no time on gripping him tight, starting gentle motions going up and down again, and again, and again, causing Dean to move both hands to my thighs - his grip on me threatening to leave bruises. I dragged my thumb over his tip, urging a blissful shudder to surge through him as I smeared the gathering precum up and down his length. His lips never once left mine. I could feel him becoming breathless as I slowly increased the speed of my hand, so I caught his bottom lip between my teeth as a means to pull away for a moment. As I breathed in his contented groan, I pulled back slightly further to get a look at his face.

“Dean… Dean please - I need you inside me-”

“Stop fucking around then and c’mere.”

I squeaked a little at his harsh tone, unable to stop the next words from tumbling out.

“Yessir.”

I watched his brows knit together and his eyes almost roll before he dropped his head to my neck, grabbing the underside of my thighs and dragging me right to the edge of the table. With one hand he grabbed his cock and used it to move my underwear to one side before lining up and sinking in. The lascivious moans that spilled from our lips were almost harmonious, Dean pushing in to the hilt and forcing me to wrap one arm around his neck and the other to prop me up behind me - both stopping me from losing my balance under Deans intensity. Dean looked as though he was getting lost in a sexual haze as he crushed me against him again with one arm, having the decency to remain still for a few moments so I could adjust to his size as he eye-wateringly stretched out my insides - the sensation almost burning.

“Jesus- fuck-” his breath was slightly strained as he groaned into my neck, “now I’m mad that you decided to fuck lonely jerk-offs instead of me - with a pussy like this- shit- I would’ve been crawling back for more.”

He started to move slowly, pulling out gently before slipping back in - easing me into it with sexual expertise.

“Oh fuck- Dean- you don’t mean that-”

“(Y/n) you’d have to shoot me to stop me - you feel too fucking good.”

He started to up the tension - dropping every ounce of softness as he lost control of that part of him. He fucked the same way that he hunted monsters: raw, skilful and always in control - my mind racing with the knowledge of how dangerous this man actually was. He was Dean fucking Winchester, and here he was - fucking me over the breakfast table whilst I wore nothing but a band t-shirt. As he pounded into me and the intensity grew I was unable to stop the lewd noises tumbling from my lips. Such lewd noises however seemed to spur Dean on, the power of his thighs and hips inching the heavy wooden table across the floor.

“How are you still so fucking tight-” his words were almost slurred, his sexually inebriated mind seemingly becoming obsessed.

“Shit- Dean, I’m getting close already,” my eyes squeezed shut as I began to feel that familiar knot in the depths of my core. With every thrust he dragged over every over-sensitive nerve ending, unravelling me quicker than I’d even been unravelled before.

“Oh yeah? You wanna cum?”

I nodded my head vigorously, loose strands of hair falling around my face as tears started to well in my eyes. Dean glanced down at me without so much as a stutter in his hips, a slight grin playing on his lips even in a moment like this.

“Tears?”

“Fuck-fuck- you Dean, it's not my f-fault you're the first one to fuck me properly- oh God-”

“Well I'm glad it was me sweetheart,” he tried to keep up the slightly playful tone but I could see in his eyes that he was on the brink as well. Without another word he moved one hand to push lightly on my lower belly, his thumb dipping down to rub soft circles over that oh-so-sensitive bundle of nerves. I gasped at the contact, Dean taking the opportunity to plant uncharacteristically soft kisses on my parted lips before whispering:

“I need you to cum for me - I need you to let go. I've got you darlin’.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The circles drawn with his thumb increased in speed and as did the pounding of his hips against mine.

“Dean- Dean please-”

I could feel him winding that knot tighter, and tighter, and tighter; lifting the euphoria coursing through my veins to its highest peak before the white-hot heat of orgasmic bliss erupted inside me. Wave after wave after wave of pleasure cascaded down, drowning me in the most earth shattering climax I'd ever experienced. I could feel myself tightening repeatedly around Dean, his thrusts becoming frantic before his own release rolled through him.

“Oh Fuck- (Y/n)-”

His guttural groan into the crook of my neck sent a shiver down my spine and goosebumps across my skin, the sound of him cumming making me clench even tighter around him.

“You squeeze me any tighter darlin’ and you're gonna kill me,”

“I-I’m not- I mean- I'm sorry?”

He groaned again when I twitched slightly, this time he pulled back to look me in the eye, taking note of the drying tear-tracks and smudged mascara.

“You good?”

“Y-yeah, I'm good,” I huffed out a deep, contented sigh, "I am so, so good.”

He grinned, the assertiveness from earlier seeming to dissipate and the good ‘ol Dean was returning.

“Best you've ever had?” His green eyes twinkled mischievously.

I playfully slapped his shoulder, not impacting the smirk on his lips whatsoever.

“Easy there cowboy - if your ego gets any bigger there'll be no living with you.”

“You didn't answer my question.”

I chewed on my bottom lip slightly, making him wait a little for the answer before I replied with a grin of my own.

“Yeah, definitely the best I've ever had.”

————————————————————

Taglist: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200

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allthesmutl0vers · 29 days

Text

The Fate Of Us- Chapter Seven

MDNI, 18+

Pairing: Sam/Reader, Dean/Reader, Castiel/Reader, Dean/Castiel and Coming Soon: Dean/Sam, Castiel/Sam

Chapter Seven

Dean

“So yeah, that’s basically everything,” y/n finishes explaining to Cas and Jack. We’re sitting around the living room, full from the breakfast Bobby got.

Cas looks over at me, and I raise an eyebrow and shrug. I didn’t believe it at first, either, so I don’t blame him.

“Wow, so… I became God?” Jack asks, his voice tinged with disbelief and excitement.

“Yeah, you took his powers and became a great God.” She says sweetly, sitting between me and Sam and looking at Jack across the coffee table as he sits next to Cas.

“If Jack is such a good God, then why would we want to change that?” Cas asks her, his tone stiff and wary. He can be an ass when he first meets people, and I feel y/n stiffen beside me.

Sam answers before she can, placing a hand on her knee and leaning forward. “Nobody is saying that’s for sure what’s going to happen; all she’s saying is that God asked her to help him be better,” Sam defends her.

I watch as she looks up at my brother with a small smile on her face. Maybe I should’ve made my move sooner. Maybe then it’d be my hand on her knee and not his.

When I walked into her bedroom, I could feel the energy between them. Her eyes were slightly hooded as her lips grazed his. The sight made a wave of jealousy course through my veins. I want her too, be I guess fair is fair. I can get my fill anytime, and I do. But something inside of me feels like with her, I’d never want another woman again.

You know what? Two can play that game, Sammy.

“I’m just saying, how do we know she’s telling the truth?” Cas asks, leaning his elbows on his knees.

I put my arm over her shoulders on the back of the couch. “Why doesn’t she call him up,” I look down at y/n at my side. “You can do that, can’t you princess?” I wink, watching a blush rise to her cheeks and her expression fluster.

“Oh… Um, I don’t know. I, I haven’t tried,” she says sheepishly. Sam throws me a look over her shoulder, but it’s not jealousy like I was expecting. Instead, he smiles, his eyebrows raising.

I turn my attention back to the girl between us on the couch as she fiddles with her fingers in her lap. I decide to push it a little further, and I brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Why don’t you pray to him?”

Y/n

Pray to God? I guess I should try. What’s going on with Dean, though? He seemed so mad when he came into my bedroom, essentially walking in on me and Sam. And now, he is being so touchy. The air feels thick between us, and I can’t bear to face Sam, scared that he will be mad now.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, sending out a silent prayer.

Chuck?

I’m not sure if I’m doing this right, and I’m not sure if you’re watching what’s happening, but… Can you come? I mean, Castiel is on the fence about trusting me. I want to help you be a better God.

I need you to answer and come here to prove I’m telling the truth.

You wanted to show me you could be a better God. Here’s an opportunity.

I’m not really sure how to end this prayer, but I guess amen?

Yeah, that sounds good.

Amen.

“The ‘amen’ was a little unnecessary, but good job, y/n,” Chuck says, appearing suddenly at the end of the couch.

“Holy shit,” Dean breathes next to me,

“You weren’t kidding. It really is Chuck,” Sam says, looking at me.

Castiel stands and faces Chuck. “Father,” he says flatly.

Chuck laughs and pats Castiel on the shoulder. “Chuck is fine, Castiel. I haven’t been a very good father,” he turns to Jack, and Castiel instantly stands in front of him. Chuck seems to understand his protectiveness and takes a step back. “It’s nice to meet you, Jack. You look very much like your mother.” Chuck smiles.

“You know my mom?” Jack asks, his voice laced with innocence.

Chuck smiles and nods. “I do, and I want you to know she is very happy in her heaven. She told me you were the best thing she ever did,” Chuck says softly.

I watch as Jack seems to choke back a tear. “Thank you,” he responds softly.

Chuck nods once and turns back to the rest of us, his gaze landing on me. “You prayed?” Chuck asks.

I nod. “Yes, Castiel is struggling to believe that you brought me here with good intentions,” I briefly explain, trying not to throw Castiel completely under the bus.

Chuck smiles and moves to speak to us all at once. “It’s true. I did bring y/n here. Although you don’t remember, I wasn’t a good God the last time around, which ultimately led me to my death. Fully deserved,” Chuck raises his hands. “But I want to be better. I want to follow the path that Jack chose as God instead.”

“And what was that path exactly?” Sam asks as his hand still rests on my knee.

“Free will,” Chuck says plainly. “I want you all to have the freedom to make your own choices, your own mistakes. No more meddling from me.”

“Right. And you’re just doing this out of what? Compassion? Because it doesn’t seem like you’ve had that a lot in the past. We’ve lost people, Chuck. Good people. People who didn’t deserve to die. And it seems like you just snuffed them out,” Dean says with a tinge of anger in his voice.

Chuck nods once. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right, Dean. I did end the lives of those you hold close. But I want to make it right,” Chuck says sincerely.

“Yeah? Then bring them back. Bring them all back,” Dean says, his hand clenching the couch behind me as I feel his anger rising.

I don’t know how else to help at that moment, so I do what I feel is right. I place my hand gently on Dean’s thigh just above his knee. I look at Sam, hoping he won’t be angry, and to my surprise, he isn’t. Instead, he nods his head once and gives me a soft smile, which I return before turning back to Dean.

“I wish I could, Dean, I really do. But I can’t bring back everyone. But what I can do, is I can bring back three. Three people,” Chuck holds up three fingers on his hand. “You don’t have to decide right now. Take your time and think about it. Pray, and I promise I will answer.”

“Thought you said you were done meddling,” Castiel says from the side.

Chuck sighs and turns to face Castiel who is back sitting down next to Jack. “I think after everything you all have been through, a few exceptions are allowed. Castiel, I understand that you feel abandoned, but I swear to you that I only have good intentions this time around,” Chuck motions to Jack. “You know as well as I do how Nephilim are perceived. But I will never do anything to harm Jack, and I won’t allow the other angels to either. As a matter of fact, I am going back to heaven. Things are a mess up there, and it’s about time I stepped back in and got everyone back on track.”

Seemingly pleased with Chuck’s explanation, Castiel nods. “My orders?”

Chuck smiles. “Take care of Jack, protect the ones you love, and be happy. You’re a good soldier, Castiel, my angel of Thursday. You do that, and your work is complete.”

Bobby clears his throat from behind his desk, finally speaking after sitting there in silence since we all came in here. “I have a question.” He says, rising from his seat.

“Of course Robert, what is it?” Chuck asks with a smile.

Bobby takes a deep breath. “Is y/n my daughter?” He asks, leaving the rest of us silent.

I bite the inside of my cheek as Sam grips my knee tighter, and Dean’s arm around my shoulder holds me tighter.

After what feels like hours, Chuck finally speaks. “Technically, she is your flesh and blood. But no, she is not your daughter.”

I feel my shoulders and chest deflate as I watch Bobby have the same reaction. His face falling breaks my heart.

“But,” Chuck speaks again. “A wise man once said that family doesn’t end in blood, and it doesn’t start there either,” Chuck moves to Bobby’s side and places a hand on his shoulder. “Whether she is or isn’t your daughter is something for the two of you to define.”

Bobby nods and looks at me. I give him a smile, which he returns softly.

Chuck moves back to the center of the room. “Any other questions for now?” Chuck asks us all. Everyone looks at each other for a moment before we face him again and shake our heads no. “Alright then, I’ll be heading out. If you need me, just send a prayer.” Chuck says with a smile before saluting with a smile and disappearing in a cloud of shimmery white vapor that vanishes behind him just a moment later.

Nobody really knows what to say at first. It’s as if reality hasn’t really quite set in yet. The minutes seem to tick by before Castiel is the first one to finally speak.

“I apologize, y/n,” he says, looking up at me from his seat across from me.

I faintly smile, trying to ease the tension. His crystal blue eyes feel as if they bore into mine, waiting for me to accept his apology. “It’s okay,” I respond softly. I understand why he didn’t trust me at first, even if it hurt. Dean was the same way when I first met him, and now… I don’t even know what his feelings are.

I look sideways at Dean, scrolling through his phone. His arm still draped behind me on the couch. Is this him flirting? Is he just being friendly? Or something else entirely?

Sam and I almost kissed. Maybe it would’ve even gone further if Dean hadn’t walked in. Did I want it to go further? Of course I did; I still do. But now I feel tugged toward Dean, too. It’s too much. I need some air.

Excusing myself, I walk out the front door. I glimpse at the wooden rocking chairs and small wooden table on the porch where Sam and I have made a routine of sitting at in the mornings.

Not wanting to delve into the memories, I keep walking. The garage on the right side of the property seems as good a place as any to seek some solitude. The metal hinges creak as I push open the door. The scent of dust and motor oil seeps into my nose. From what Bobby told me, this place hasn’t really been used since the salvage yard was bustling with business. Back before his wife died, when he started to hunt.

Was his wife my mom? Chuck said I was his flesh and blood, but he didn’t say anything about his wife. Should I even ask?

No, probably not. Bobby doesn’t talk about her, and if I’ve learned one thing in my twenty-three years of life, it’s if someone doesn’t tell, don’t ask.

In the back corner, I find a table with tools that have not been used in years. The thin layer of rust under the thicker layer of dust proves that.

Picking up a wrench, I examine it. I wipe the layer of dust off with my thumb, not thinking. Not wanting to think. Part of me wishes to just go back to my world where I’m safe and alone in my one-story cottage-style home. Alone with my things, my books, my novels that don’t sell very well. Alone with a father who essentially disowned me for wanting to be my own person.

I know that millions of fans would kill to be in my shoes right now. Just happy to be in the world they found solace in when ours got too overwhelming. But that’s exactly how I feel right now. Overwhelmed. Different.

I can’t say that I don’t feel welcome because I do. So why can’t I just be happy? Why can’t I just be grateful?

“Are you okay?”

I jump. I didn’t hear anyone else come inside. I turn around, still holding the wrench in my fingers. It’s Jack. The light peaking through the cracks of the wooden walls illuminates his features as he steps closer, carefully, as if I’m a wounded animal backed into a corner. Ready to strike.

Maybe I am a wounded animal. Maybe I’m broken.

“I’m fine, Jack,” I lie, hoping he will just leave me alone.

Jack takes another step closer. “You’re not broken, y/n,” he says calmly. “And you’re not a wounded animal.”

How did he know that’s what I’m thinking? I shake my head, looking down at the wrench in my fingers. “How do you know?” I ask, unable to stop the words as they come out.

Jack sighs softly. “Because what you’re feeling right now is exactly how I felt when I was born. Lost, like you don’t belong,” he says, his voice tinged with a bit of hurt. “We’ve all felt that way at one point or another. But you do belong here.”

My eyes singe with the threat of tears that want to fall. I blink them back, clearing my throat to get rid of the lump that formed there. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” I say softly, still looking at the wrench, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“What do you mean?” Jack asks, moving to stand in front of me.

I take a breath, trying to collect myself. I finally meet his golden eyes. “I know I’m here to help Chuck be better, but I don’t know how to do that. He didn’t give me any instructions. I don’t know why I’m still here,” I look around the garage. “If he wanted me in this world, he could’ve dropped me anywhere. But he took me here.”

Jack seems to think over my words for a moment before he finally speaks. “Maybe he brought you here, to us, because he knows how much you could help. Here.” He says, taking the wrench from my grasp.

I can’t help the scoff that escapes my throat. “They don’t need my help.”

Jack raises an eyebrow, shakes his head, and laughs softly. “You think so?” He asks, looking into my eyes. When I don’t respond, he continues. “Because I haven’t seen, or heard, Dean be this happy, ever. I’ve never seen Sam connect with someone the way he does with you,” his voice falters for a moment. “I’ve never seen Cas look at someone the way he does with you.”

I’m lost for words. How does he notice these things? How did I miss them?

Without asking, Jack pulls me into his arms. He hugs me tenderly, rubbing his hand between my shoulder blades. “You belong here, y/n. Even if you can’t see it yet.”

His voice is gentle and calm, and his touch is loving and platonic. Jack doesn’t expect me to react. He just does what he feels is right. Like a friend you’ve known since childhood, you feel the kind of love that isn’t romantic in any way but just as strong.

And that is something worth fighting for.

#spn spicy fanfic #spnfandom #lemon #sam/dean #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam and dean #sam winchester #samdean #castiel #destiel #team free will

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allthesmutl0vers · 29 days

Text

The Fate Of Us- Chapter Six

MDNI, 18+

Pairing: Sam/Reader, Dean/Reader, Castiel/Reader, Dean/Castiel and Coming Soon: Dean/Sam, Castiel/Sam

Chapter Six

Y/n

“So they make a deal to keep her secret if she gives them her body?” Sam asks as he sips his coffee. I tighten his jacket around me to shield my body from the chilly morning breeze. “Isn’t that extortion?” He asks, confused.

I shake my head, taking a sip from my mug as Sam sits in front of my computer. “No,” I chuckle. Sam narrows his eyes slightly, waiting for me to explain. I sigh and sit forward. “Well, maybe it is. But it’s different in dark romance. In these kinds of books, it’s not just extortion. It’s a trope called ‘enemies to lovers,’” I make quotation marks with my fingers, emphasizing the uniqueness of the concept.

Sam nods his head. “Oh, I get it now. So they hate each other at first but grow to love each other later?” He asks, his voice intrigued. I nod in agreement. I like talking about books with Sam. He asks questions but doesn’t judge. Sitting on the porch in the mornings and sipping coffee has become our little routine the last few days, and it’s nice to have a man’s perspective when I’m writing from dual points of view. “And a trope is what the book is about?” He asks.

I sway my head from side to side like a scale. “Kind of, yeah. It’s a type of plot, but there’s a bunch of different ones, too. There are enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, found family, the one-bed trope,” I count them on my fingers.

“One-bed trope?” Sam asks with a chuckle. “What’s that? They share a bed?” Sam asks.

I giggle and nod. “Basically. But usually, there is some reason they have to share one. Like staying in a hotel and there’s only a single bedroom left, or it comes to either freezing to death or sharing a bed to share warmth. Or something else like that.” I smile.

Sam sits back and sips his coffee, his lips coming up to a small smile. “And here I thought I’ve read it all,” he quips playfully, his surprise evident in his tone.

I laugh softly. “Don’t worry, not a lot of men read them. So it’s not surprising most men don’t like to read about stalking, obsession, or ‘touch her and die’ type of stories.”

Now, it’s Sam who laughs. “Well, count me in. I love it,” he smiles at me. I try to hide my blush that creeps up and heats my cheeks.

“Do you have any recommendations?” Sam asks, looking at me,

“Recommendations?” I ask, curious.

“Like on other books like that, I want to read more and I know you just started this one, so I’m wondering if you have any recommendations on other books like this until you’re done.” He says with a slight blush on his cheeks as well as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Oh, yeah. I have some upstairs that I brought with me. I’m not sure if the same authors from my world exist here or if they write the same books. You can look through them if you want,” I offer with a smile.

Sam smiles widely. “I’d love to, if you don’t mind, of course. I promise I’ll be careful with them.”

I stand up, Sam’s jacket hanging just above my knees. “Come on, I don’t mind. I trust you.” I smile, biting the corner of my bottom lip.

I watch Sam as his eyes land on my lip between my teeth before he looks me in my eyes and stands up. “Lead the way.” He says with a smile.

We sneak back inside and pass Dean, who is still passed out on the couch. We walk quietly up the stairs, and Sam follows me into my bedroom.

I pull some of my favorites off my bookshelf and sit down on the bed with Sam. “These are some of my favorites, but there’s more on the shelf if you want to look,” I say, spreading out the books between us.

“I trust you,” Sam says with a smirk, repeating my own words back to me and making heat pool deep inside my belly.

I smile softly and let my hair fall around the edges of my face. “This one is my all-time favorite,” I say, handing him a copy of ‘Sick Boys’ by Clarissa Wild. “It’s a reverse harem, a college bully romance.”

Sam takes the book in his hands carefully, looking and the skull and serpent on the cover. “And a reverse harem is three of them and one of her, right?” He asks.

I nod. “Yeah, it’s mostly what I read, but I have singular stories too. I probably should’ve grabbed those first,” I say, standing up, embarrassed that I didn’t think of that sooner.

I feel Sam’s hand around my wrist, pulling me back. “It’s okay. I want to read your favorites,” he says with a smirk. I watch his mouth as his tongue peaks out slightly and glides between his lips.

I feel my breath catch in my chest.

Seriously. Why is it so damn hot when men do that?

“Oh, okay,” I say softly as my eyes move up to meet him again. Unable to form any other words as my brain seems unable to focus on anything else besides his hand on my wrist.

Sam pulls my wrist, gently guiding me back to sit on my bed again before he lets go. “But I think your stories will be my favorites. Do you have any completed ones?” He asks.

I nod. “Yeah, I have a couple on my shelf, but just be warned, they’re mostly smut.” I chuckle softly.

Sam’s eyes widen slightly as he smiles. “Is that so?” He quips, leaning back on my bed with his palms. “Hit me.”

I smile and grab two of my novels from my bookshelf, handing them to him. “Do you write fanfiction?” He asks, looking over the covers of my books.

“Oh, um… Sort of,” I try to lie, wishing I had tried harder when Sam looks up at me. “It’s more of a hobby, really. It helps with writer’s block.” I defend myself from any potential criticism.

“Do you write about us?” He asks, not with criticism but with genuine interest.

I hug myself, wishing I had just said no. “Maybe,” I say softly as I turn to look at my bookshelf again.

I feel Sam standing behind me before I feel his hand on my shoulder. “I’m not like Becky, though. My stories are actually stories.” I say, not meeting Sam’s gaze as he leans over me slightly, pressing his body against my back.

“I know you’re not y/n. Her stories aren’t even close to yours,” he says as his other hand lands gently on the top of my arm. I feel butterflies erupt inside of my stomach, his praise pooling deep inside of my stomach. “What are they about?” He asks in a husky voice.

I let out a shaky breath as his hand slowly glides down my arm. “Do you write write about all of us?” He asks in my ear.

“Sometimes…” I say softly, every nerve in my body firing as his hands touch me over my clothes.

“What about the other times?” He asks, pressing against me a little more; I feel his erection on the small of my back.

“Some- sometimes just one of you,” I say softly.

I feel Sam’s grip on my shoulder and arm tighten a little more. “And what happens in these stories?” He asks in a low voice.

I let out a breath, leaning back slightly against his strong frame.

Do I tell him how I write about them railing me?

“Do you write about us taking you? About me taking you?” He asks, pulling a piece of my hair over my shoulder, allowing him to watch my face as I finally meet his smoldering gaze.

Unable to bring myself to verbally agree, I simply nod once. I watch as he releases a deep breath, his eyes flickering between my lips and my eyes. “Do I treat you like the men in your books?” He asks, keeping one hand on my other arm and lifting his opposite hand to tip my chin up to his face. “Answer me with your words y/n.”

“Y-yes,” I breathe out, wondering if he’ll kiss me. Wondering if I want him to.

Of course I do.

A low growl comes from his throat, taking me by surprise, given that I thought a man growling only happened in books. My heart rate picks up as I watch his face come down to my neck before he whispers in my ear. “Send them to me.” He lifts his head to look into my eyes, his face so close I can feel his warm breath graze across my lips. “Understood?”

“Understood,” I say in a small gasp, biting my bottom lip as I feel my arousal soaking my panties between my thighs, clenching them together, dying for any bit of friction I can find.

Sam looks at my lip between my teeth, letting out a breath. “Good girl.” He says huskily, his eyes locked on mine again as he slowly closes the gap between us.

Fuck me. Please call me that again.

“Sam! Y/n!” Dean calls from downstairs, breaking us apart just as our lips graze against each other. “Where are you?” Dean calls again, this time from right outside my bedroom door.

My door opens, and Dean stops in his tracks as he sees Sam and I so close together. Sam still pressed against my back, and his head tilted down to mine.

For just a moment, it seems as though jealousy crosses over Dean’s face, but as soon as it appears, it disappears again. Dean clears his throat as Sam stays rooted behind me. “They’re here. Bobby said come downstairs.” Dean says flatly, his jaw clenching and unclenching before he turns and walks away, leaving my door open.

I love Dean, but right now…

Fucking cock block.

Sam clears his throat and steps back, his warmth leaving my back, and I fight the urge to pull him back against me again. Was I dreaming? Was he really going to kiss me? Is the moment lost?

“To be continued,” Sam says with a smile on the corner of his lips. I smile and nod.

“To be continued,” I repeat his words back to him as he grabs the book I gave him and leads me out of my bedroom and downstairs again.

Downstairs, I actively make sure not to stand too close to Sam, hiding from Dean’s gaze that I feel over my entire body. Instead, I stand closer to Bobby.

“Darlin’, you know Cas and Jack, right?” Bobby asks me as Castiel and Jack enter from the kitchen. I nod slightly, thanking Chuck that Bobby didn’t catch on to me and Sam alone in my bedroom.

Castiel looks at me with a wary expression but extends his hand to me anyway. “Hello, y/n. I am Castiel,” he shakes my hand.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” I say softly as I pull my hand back and see Castiel’s expression soften.

“This is my son, Jack,” Cas says as Jack stands by his side with a wide smile.

I smile softly and extend my hand. But instead of shaking my hand, Jack pulls me into a hug. “Hi, I’m Jack. It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Jack pulls back and smiles. “Dean talks about you a lot,” Jack turns to Dean. “You’re right, Dean. She is really pretty.”

I can’t help but blush as Dean rolls his eyes and Sam chuckles behind his hand.

“Right, well. Who’s hungry? I was thinking I could run to the diner and grab us some grub, and we can talk next steps,” Bobby says, clearing his throat. “You gonna be alright here?” Bobby asks me.

I nod. “I’ll be fine, Bobby, thanks.”

“Well, alright then, I’ll be back in a jiffy,” he says, grabbing his keys and opening the front door before turning back. “Behave,” he says sternly, mostly to Sam and Dean.

Dean scoffs. “Not like I was the one in her bedroom,” Dean mutters as Bobby closes the door.

Sam elbows Dean in his side. “Dude,” Sam mutters.

Dean rolls his eyes again and heads to the kitchen. “I need a beer.”

Castiel and Jack both look towards me and Sam, who is now standing back at my side.

“Is that Sam’s jacket?” Jack asks me curiously.

Sam chuckles as I nod my head. “Oh, yeah. I got cold.”

Jack nods with a smile. Castiel says something to Sam at my side that I can’t hear before he follows behind Dean with Jack.

“He doesn’t like me, does he?” I ask Sam quietly, feeling disappointed. I wanted their feelings toward me to be real, but out of all of them, I thought Castiel would be more welcoming.

Sam wraps an arm around my shoulders. “He just doesn’t know you yet, that’s all. It’ll be okay,” Sam turns me and gives me a big hug, and I feel all of the worry fade from my mind.

Can I just stay in his arms forever?

Chapter Seven

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allthesmutl0vers · 29 days

Text

The Fate Of Us- Chapter Five

MDNI, 18+

Pairing: Sam/Reader, Dean/Reader, Castiel/Reader, Dean/Castiel and Coming Soon: Dean/Sam, Castiel/Sam

Chapter Five

Dean

Maybe y/n isn’t so bad. I’m not saying that because she made me breakfast, either. She actually knows her stuff, even after I drilled her on the different ways to kill monsters. She answered them all correctly, even when I tried to trick her.

I can’t lie and say she isn’t attractive either. The way her long brown hair flows down her back and goddamn that smile. It’s a smile that can make a man do bad things. And I’ve done some of the worst. The only complaint I have is that she’s wearing Sam’s jacket. And even that isn’t really a complaint because of how good she looks in it. But a part of me wishes it was mine she was wearing instead.

She’s fucking funny too. When she made breakfast, she did this whole bit where she put whipped cream on her hand, hit her wrist with the other, and tried to catch it in her mouth. Something about it being a TikTok trend? I don’t know what that means, but what I do know is that it shouldn’t have made my dick as hard as it did.

I briefly look at her as she sits between me and Sam on the couch, watching a horror movie she picked out. How she got Sam to watch one? I’ll never know. Her hands are sitting on her lap as her eyes are glued to the screen where a father is trying to rescue his son from ‘the other side’ as the old woman in the movie called it.

“Do you really believe in this stuff?” I ask her quietly.

She turns to me, looking up at me with those big brown eyes. “I don’t know. I mean, I’ve heard of astral projection before, but it’s never worked for me,” she shrugs her shoulders.

“Where did you try to go?” Sam asks from her other side, pressing pause on the movie.

She looks at him before facing forward again, trying to hide the blush that’s appearing on her cheeks. “It’s stupid,” she says softly.

“Oh, come on, tell us,” I tease her lightly, nudging her with my elbow.

She smiles and rolls her eyes, looking up to the ceiling. “Here, actually,” she says to the ceiling. “I always imagined what it would be like here, and a part of me still thinks I’m dreaming sometimes.” She says looking back down to her hands in her lap.

I can’t help but chuckle softly. “You mean you tried to come here in a dream to a world full of monsters when you were perfectly safe in yours?” I ask her, trying to wrap my head around the concept. I’ve dreamed of living in a world with no monsters, but she actually wants to risk facing them.

“We have monsters too, maybe not the kind you guys have here. But we have them, the only difference is in this world, you can make your own justice. In mine, you have to rely on crooked judges, disbelieving jurors, and overworked, entry-level prosecutors,” she explains with a certain degree of pain and a tinge of anger in her voice. She clenches her hands in her lap for a moment before she takes a deep breath and releases them. “Or family members who don’t believe you.” She whispers.

I look over her at Sam, whose brows are furrowed in confusion like mine.

What do I even say to that? And what is she talking about? What happened to her?

Sam puts a hand on the top of her back, instantly making me want to take it off. It’s a weird feeling because I never get jealous, but is that what this knot of anger in my stomach is? Or is it about whatever this girl has gone through that makes her believe she’s safer in a world where she could be ripped to shreds, over a world where the worst of the worst are only humans?

“I’m sorry for whatever you went through, y/n. And you’re right. The justice system does suck—”

“Says the one who wanted to be a lawyer,” I scoff.

Sam throws me an annoyed glare. “Yeah, to advocate for victims, not victimize them all over again on the stand,” Sam fires back at me.

My eyes go back to y/n, who’s quickly wiping away tears. “Listen, I don’t want to be the weepy girl with a sad story. What happened to me happened, and there’s nothing I can do to change it,” she says, looking between me and Sam, she takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to dump my trauma on you guys. I mean, we barely know each other. We just met yesterday. I just want to try to forget about it, okay?” She says, looking between us again.

Sam and I both nod our heads in understanding. Her business is her business. Don’t get me wrong, I’m curious. But a person’s past is something that belongs to them, and they shouldn’t feel obligated to share it if they don’t want too. She silently accepts our nods with one of her own, and we finish watching ‘Insidious’ and end up watching the second one while Bobby heads out for pizza.

Sam

“Hey man, grab me another while you’re up, will ya?” Dean asks with a smirk from the table, waving his empty bottle of beer.

I roll my eyes and look over at y/n. “You need another one, too?” I ask her, not bothered at all.

She smiles and shakes her head. “I’m good, Sam, thanks though.”

I nod once and smile back before looking at Bobby. “Bobby? You need another while I’m up?”

Bobby shakes his head, finishing off his bottle. “I’m good. I’m fixing to head to bed here soon,” he turns to y/n as I hand Dean his beer and sit back down across from y/n. “You gonna be alright with these two idjits?” He asks her, only half joking.

“Hey! We’re not that bad,” Dean quips, swallowing his bite of pizza.

I laugh and shake my head. Bobby raises his scruffy eyebrows at Dean while y/n covers her mouth, trying not to laugh. “Oh really? Who damn near set my whole property on fire trying to get rid of a vamp body?” Bobby shoots back.

I lean back in my chair, sipping my beer, thoroughly enjoying their back and forth.

“Got rid of the body, though, didn’t I?” Dean quips back.

I lock eyes with y/n, who’s trying so hard to hide the fact she’s laughing behind her hand.

Bobby stands up from the table. “Yeah, yeah. Just try not to burn anything down tonight, will ya?” He says as he places his plate in the sink.

“Scouts honor,” Dean raises his hands with a smile that he directs to y/n, even throwing in a wink.

Damn. Really laying it on thick, huh, Dean?

I can’t help but feel irritated that he’s flirting with her. But really, how can I when I was doing the same thing just this morning? Man, when she called me her hero… I felt my heart beat faster for the first time since Eileen died.

I swore I’d never fall for anyone again, given the fact they always die. But she told us that she couldn’t die earlier. At least she can’t die by anything in this world. But crazy shit happens to us damn near every day.

I’m not proud to admit that I’ve adopted Dean’s ‘hit it and quit it’ attitude when we have cases. But not nearly as much as he does, just enough to blow off steam once in a while.

I don’t want to do that with y/n. I feel like I have a real potential to be good friends with her.

And maybe more.

No. No, I can’t think like that. She’s technically Bobby’s daughter. Another bombshell dropped on us earlier. But how can I just be friends with her when, deep down, I know I might want something more?

“Sam?” Her sweet voice brings me back from my spiraling thoughts.

I look up and smile at her. “Yeah? Sorry,” I try to brush it off, running my hands through my hair.

She laughs and shakes her head. “I said goodnight,” she says with a tired smile. My jacket practically swallows her, and one side hangs off her shoulder. She looks damn good in it, too. I can’t help but wonder what she looks like wearing nothing at all.

“Oh, you’re heading to bed already?” I ask her, unable to help but feel disappointed.

She shrugs her shoulders. “Well, I’m going to write a bit more before I actually go to bed. But yeah, I am heading to my room for the night.”

I nod my head twice. “Working on your same story from this morning?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation going for another minute or two.

A cute blush tints her cheeks. She blushes so easily, and I love it. “Um, yeah, maybe. I have a few other stories I’m working on, too, so I’ll just see where my brain takes me.”

I smile and nod my head. “Well, if you ever want to bounce ideas off someone, I’m here,” I say back to her.

Her body stiffens slightly. “Yeah, maybe. The other ones are usually just for me, kind of a creative outlet when I have writer’s block from my novels,” she looks down at her feet.

I feel like she’s hiding something. Or holding something back, and I want to know what it is. I want to know everything about her. But I’ll let it go for now.

“I understand completely,” I smile at her. “Coffee in the morning?” I ask hopefully.

Y/n smiles and nods her head. “I’m Looking forward to it. Goodnight, Sammy,” she catches herself. “I’m sorry. I forgot. Only Dean can call you that,” she apologizes.

I wave my hand. “It’s okay, you can call me Sammy,” I smile at her, and she relaxes. “Maybe we can come up with a nickname for you in the morning,” I smirk.

She sucks her lips into her mouth, trying to stifle a smile as she nods. “Goodnight, Sammy.”

“Goodnight, y/n,” I say as she gives me one last smile before exiting the kitchen and walking up the stairs.

When I get into the living room, Dean is already passed out on the couch. I thank God that he wasn’t awake for that conversation I had with her. I don’t need him waking up and interfering with my time with her in the morning. Those belong to us now.

Woah, a bit possessive there, huh?

I brush the thought off as I kick my boots off and lay down, pulling the blanket over my body. As I drift off to sleep, I think about nicknames for the girl upstairs that don’t come off too strong but also let her know I’m interested. Because fuck it, I am. It’s a fine line to walk, but as I think of nicknames, I also find myself wishing I was lying down next to her as she writes, holding her close to me as we both fall asleep.

It’s been too long since I’ve had that, and hopefully, it won’t be much longer before I have it again.

Chapter Six

#spn spicy fanfic #supernatural #supernatural smut #spnfandom #lemon #sam/dean #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam and dean #samdean #sam winchester #dean winchester fluff #spn x reader #spn fanfiction #dean x you #sam winchester x you

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allthesmutl0vers · 29 days

Text

The Fate Of Us- Chapter Four

MDNI, 18+

Pairing: Sam/Reader, Dean/Reader, Castiel/Reader, Dean/Castiel and Coming Soon: Dean/Sam, Castiel/Sam

@kr804573

Chapter Four

Y/n

The next morning, the house is still and quiet, and everyone is lost in the depths of sleep. Bobby’s snores echo from the upper floor while Sam and Dean, worn out from the previous day, have found solace on the living room couches. Stealthily, I set the coffee pot to brew and make my way to the mailbox. Upon my return, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, a comforting promise of the day ahead.

With a cup of steaming coffee in hand, I place the mail on the table, each envelope carefully arranged. None of it is mine, but I know Bobby dislikes venturing out in the rain. Balancing my cup and laptop, I step outside, the cool air of the porch a welcome contrast to the warmth inside.

I draw in a deep breath, the scent of rain and earth mingling in the air, a symphony of nature’s perfume. The gentle rhythm of raindrops on the wooden porch and roof serenades my ears. It’s a writer’s paradise, a day made for creativity.

I open my laptop to the Google Doc with my new novel typed on it and sip the warm coffee, appreciating the sweet caramel and vanilla creamer as it contrasts the acidity of the coffee. I take a deep, appreciative breath and begin to write.

“Good morning,” I hear Sam say as he appears in the doorway, his eyes gazing across me with a soft and tired smile.

I smile back. “Good morning,” I respond kindly, giving him my attention as he steps outside and closes the door behind him. “Did I wake you up?” I ask.

Sam shakes his head softly and yawns, holding his cup of coffee. “No, I just tend to wake up pretty early,” he says, walking closer and pointing to the chair beside mine. “Mind if I sit?”

I motion to the chair with my hand. “No, not at all, please,” I say politely, moving my laptop and cup over slightly to give him room to place his cup.

“What are you working on? If you don’t mind me asking,” he says, motioning his mug of coffee to my computer.

“I don’t mind. It’s just my new novel I’m working on,” I respond kindly, unsure if I should talk about the topic of what I write.

Sam nods his head once. “Cool, what do you write about?” He asks politely.

“Oh, um…” I chuckle softly, feeling a blush tint my cheeks. “Romance, honestly,” I say nervously.

“So, like Jane Austen?” He asks with a smile.

I shrug my shoulders. “More like H.D. Carlton and Clarissa Wild,” I chuckle.

Sam makes a curious facial expression. “Hm, I don’t think I’ve heard of them.”

“Yeah, they’re not for everyone. They write dark romance,” I blush, feeling suddenly embarrassed.

Sam’s eyebrows perk up in interest. “Dark romance? Like horror romances?”

I nod and sip my coffee, holding the warm mug in my hands. “Yeah, kinda. It’s more like stalker and bully romances. Those are my favorites, at least,” I explain, brushing my hair behind my ear.

“Stalkers and bullies huh?” Sam chuckles, making me feel even more embarrassed.

Why did I tell him that? Oh my God. Hashtag mortified.

I try to laugh it off but pull my bottom lip between my teeth. Wishing I’d never told him.

His hand lands softly on my shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you. I just hadn’t heard anything like that before,” He says softly. But I can’t focus on anything besides his large, warm hand encompassing my shoulder. “Do you mind if I read it?” He asks softly.

I slowly turn to face him again, looking for any signs of teasing but finding none. “Oh, um… Sure,” I say softly, turning my laptop to face him. “It’s not finished yet, but I have the first few chapters. You don’t have to read them all, though; it’s just the first draft.”

Sam smiles softly as he takes his hand off my shoulder and grapes my computer, scrolling to the top of the document. Right. To. The. Trigger. Warnings.

Oh my God, please let the Earth open up and swallow me whole.

I feel an intense desire to grab my laptop back and prevent him from reading the contents, which overwhelms me, but it’s too late. My body tenses as the rain intensifies and the wind gains strength. A chill runs through my body as the cold breeze cuts through the thin fabric of my shorts and t-shirt.

Without taking his eyes off the screen, Sam removes his thick flannel jacket and hands it to me. He seems interested in my writing, or at least pretending to be.

“I’m okay,” I say softly.

Sam’s eyes leave my laptop briefly to meet mine. “Put it on y/n,” he says sternly.

As he hands me the jacket, I accept it without uttering a word. Sliding my arms inside, I immediately feel the comforting warmth it provides. The intertwining scent of rich mahogany and musk envelops me, making me never want to part with the comfort I feel wrapped in his jacket.

I sip my coffee and wait patiently for him to finish reading. The rain falling only enhances our peaceful silence.

As I finish my cup, Sam sits back in his chair. “Wow,” he says softly, returning my laptop to me.

I take my laptop back, looking back at him. “Is that a good wow or a bad one?” I ask, trying not to sound as anxious as I feel.

“Good. It’s excellent. I definitely want to read it when it’s finished. I like how you write from different points of view, too. I’ve never read a book that does that,” he says with a genuine smile.

I can’t help but blush at his praise. “I’ll give you a signed copy,” I joke, chuckling softly.

Sam laughs and nods his head. “Definitely,” he says with a smile, taking the last drink of his coffee. “You want a refill?” He asks, nodding to my now empty cup on the table.

I look at the time on my watch. “Sounds good, thanks. I should head inside too and start breakfast,” I say softly. I stand up and start to take off his jacket. “Thanks for the jacket,” I say.

Sam shakes his head. “You can keep it; I have a ton back at the bunker. Here, I’ll grab your stuff,” he says, gently closing my laptop and both of our mugs.

“Oh, thank you. I could’ve grabbed those,” I say with a smile. It’s easy to smile with Sam.

Sam jets out his bottom lip and shakes his head. “It’s all good. Just remember when you make it to the big time who carried your laptop inside,” he jokes, opening the door and letting me walk through first.

I laugh and smile. “I won’t. Nobody forgets a hero,” I say a little more flirtily than I intended to. But Sam smiles and laughs.

It seems like today is going to be a lot better than yesterday. I feel more relaxed and at ease with the journey ahead of me, like I’m already home.

Chapter Five

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allthesmutl0vers · 30 days

Text

Entirely Forbidden and Completely Fucked- Chapter Six

MDNI, 18+, NSFW

Author's Note:

I am going to start adding episodes from the show into the story. But it does not follow the show completely. For instance, they're not looking for John (yet), Sam and Jess were never a thing, although Sam did go to Stanford a few years ago but came back before y/n came in.

Trigger Warnings: Wincest + Half-Sister, Praise, Degradation, Choking, Withheld Orgasms, Squirting.

Chapter Six

Dean

“Come on, let's go!” I call out to Sam and y/n as I throw my duffle bag into the back seat of the Impala. We don’t have time to waste, and we need to hit the road. We should’ve left last night but I couldn’t leave Sammy and her unsatisfied. Those two, I swear to God. Since that night on the hood of the Impala on our way back from Ellen’s, we’ve been fucking like rabbits around the bunker. Thank God that Dad isn’t here. Never thought I’d say that.

“You need to relax,” Sam chuckles as he throws his and y/n’s duffles into the back seat and closes the door. I throw him a glare and shake my head.

Y/n slides into the middle seat between me and Sam with a yawn. “Where are we going again?” She asks tiredly.

“Jericho, California,” I remind her as I start the engine, and Sam slides in next to her. “Seatbelt,” I tell y/n as I put the car in drive.

Y/n laughs and rolls her eyes. “Since when do you care about seatbelts?” She quips with a smirk.

“Just put the damn seatbelt on, y/n,” I snip back.

“Yes, big brother,” she flirts in that tone of voice she knows drives me crazy. She puts the lap belt on and pats it on her hips.

“What about me? I’m your big brother too,” Sam flirts, putting an arm over her shoulders on the back of the seat. “Or is Dean your favorite now? Because last night,” he leans down and kisses her neck, and I feel her suck in a breath. “It was my name you were screaming,” he mutters as I pull out of the bunker garage.

Y/n

“I swear, man, you’ve gotta update your cassette collection,” Sam jokes as he digs through the box of cassette tapes Dean has.

“Why?” Dean asks as we pass the sign that welcomes up into Jericho.

Sam laughs as he pulls out some of the tapes. “Well, for one, they’re cassette tapes. And two: Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica?! It’s the greatest hits of mullet rock,” Sam jokes, holding up the tapes. He has a point Dean could do with updating his music collection. But I think his head would explode if he tried.

“House rules, Sammy,” Dean says with a smile as he looks over at him. “Driver picks the music. Shotgun shuts his cakehole.”

I laugh and take the box from Sam. “Here, I’ll pick something,” I say, looking through the box.

“Hey, hey. What did I just say?” Dean says in an offended voice as I pull out the tape I was looking for.

I give Dean a fake pouting look and give him my best innocent voice that I know he loves. “Please, big brother?” I beg, batting my eyelashes for good measure.

Dean sighs and narrows his eyes, holding up one finger. “One song,” he says sternly.

I smile victoriously and switch the cassette tapes, putting in a Bon Jovi one. I skip to the song I want and turn up the stereo volume as ‘You Give Love A Bad Name’ plays over the speakers. I turn to look at Dean and smile. “Good enough for you?” I tease.

About halfway through the song, Dean turns it down and pulls onto a bridge where cops walk around. This must be where the guy we read about crashed his car. “Stay in the car,” Dean orders me as he reaches over to the glove box and pulls out fake IDs for him and Sam.

“Why can’t I come?” I ask as they both get out.

Sam sighs and leans down into the car. “Okay, fine, you can come. But don’t say a word. Watch and learn,” he orders me and moves out of the way so I can get out. I smile and get out, noticing the look of disapproval from Dean. But he doesn’t say anything as we walk up to the cops.

My heart races as my nerves fire off, scared the cops will figure out we’re not law enforcement.

“Evening, Officers,” Dean greets the cop with a handshake.

The cop looks at Dean suspiciously but shakes his hand. “Evening, gentlemen. This is a crime scene. You need to be behind the tape,” he says firmly, pointing behind us to the yellow police tape.

“Agents Angus and Young,” Sam says as he and Dean flash their fake badges.

The officer nods, and his demeanor changes as if he’s talking to a colleague. “My apologies, agents. And who is this?” He asks, looking at me between them.

“Junior agent Smith,” Dean answers cooly. The cop nods and walks them through the crime scene.

“We don’t know what exactly caused the crash or where he is now,” the cop says disappointedly with a sigh.

“Was he drinking?” Sam asks as they look over the bridge.

The cop shakes his head. “No. I don’t believe so. Troy is a good kid. His girlfriend is in town putting up missing persons papers.”

“And I assume you checked all of the hospitals in the area?” Dean asks.

The cop nods. “Hospitals, morgues, friends and family, nobody has seen him or someone who resembles his description.”

“You said the girlfriend is in town?” Sam asks. The cop nods. “What’s her name? We’d like to speak with her.”

“Amy, my daughter,” The cop answers. “Be gentle, she’s obviously upset.”

“Will do, sheriff,” Dean answers with a nod.

We find Amy outside of a diner in town, and Dean talks to her. “Amy?” Dean says, getting her attention.

“Yeah?” She asks, turning around. Her eyes are bloodshot, and she looks like she hasn’t slept since Troy went missing.

“I’m Dean, and this is my brother Sam and his daughter y/n. We’re Troy’s uncles,” Dean introduces us.

“Oh, hi. I’m sorry. I’m doing everything I can to find him,” Amy says with tears in her eyes.

Sam puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I know, Amy. Your dad told us where we could find you. We were just hoping we could ask you a few questions.”

I can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy course through me at Sam touching her. I feel bad for her. Really, I do. But I don’t want their hands on anyone but me.

“Of course,” Amy sniffles. “Um, we can talk inside,” she says, pointing to the diner where she was hanging the posters.

Inside, I sit quietly while Sam and Dean talk to Amy and her friend Rachel, who showed up. I might have said something if I wasn’t biting my tongue so hard I draw blood. I hate the way Rachel flirts with Dean, but considering he’s supposed to be my uncle, I can’t really say shit. Dean doesn’t flirt back, but that doesn’t make it piss me off any less.

“I wonder if it has something to do with the legend,” Rachel says quietly to Amy.

Amy shakes her head. “Don’t be ridiculous, Rach.”

“What legend?” Sam asks curiously next to me, leaning on the table with his elbows.

Amy sighs. “It’s just some stupid local legend,” she says, turning to Rachel. “And it doesn’t have anything to do with Troy.”

“Think about it, Ams,” Rachel says seriously. “The crash, the fact nobody has seen him, it all points to it.”

“What legend?” Dean says impatiently on my other side.

Rachel turns to Dean. “There’s a legend that a girl got murdered on Centennial Highway, and now, her ghost hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up disappears forever.”

“That’s not what happened to Troy,” Amy says angrily before storming off. Rachel follows after her, quickly apologizing to us before she leaves.

“Let’s hit the library,” Dean says, standing up from the booth.

Sam

“Move,” I push Dean out of the computer chair and sit down. After all these years, he still sucks at research.

Dean slaps me on the shoulder. “Dude! You’re such a control freak,” Dean scoffs and stands next to y/n.

I ignore it, pull y/n into my lap, and open up the search bar again. “So, angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?”

“Yeah,” Dean says, irritated, leaning on the table next to us.

“Well, maybe it’s not a murder,” y/n says on my lap.

I smile and kiss her. “I love how you think,” I praise her, and she smiles. I type ‘Suicide on Centennial’ into the search bar and hit ‘search.’ I find an article from April 25, 1981 and click it. Dean leans over me and y/n and reads along with me.

The article describes a woman named Constance Welch, who jumped to her death off the bridge after she made a frantic 911 call that she found her two children, ages five and six, drowned in the bathtub when she stepped away for a few minutes.

“How awful,” y/n says sadly as she reads, wiping a tear from her eyes. I rub her side, comforting her. After losing her mom and still getting no answers, I can only imagine how hard this is hitting her.

I kiss the side of her head when she leans it on my shoulder. “There’s a statement from her husband,” I point out before reading it aloud. “What happened to my children was a terrible accident. And it must have been too much for my wife. Our babies were gone, and Constance couldn’t bear it,” said husband Joseph Welch. “Now I ask that you all please respect my privacy during this trying time.” I finish reading the quote from her husband.

Dean points to a picture of the husband standing next to the bridge where Troy died. “Does that bridge look familiar to you?” Dean asks.

“So this is where Constance took a swan dive,” Dean says, leaning over the bridge railing.

“Dean, be careful,” Y/n says next to me, a foot behind Dean.

Dean turns around and smirks at her. “What? Are you scared I’ll fall?” Dean jokes and pretends to fall backward toward the rail.

“Dean!” Y/n and I say simultaneously and reach out for him.

“I’m kidding,” Dean laughs. “Seriously, chill out,” Dean says with a smirk to both of us.

Y/n slaps Dean’s chest hard. “Fuck you,” she seethes and whips around, flinging her hair over her shoulder.

Dean smirks and stands behind her, gathering her hair in his hand and pulling her head back, making her gasp. “What did we tell you about tying back your hair?” Dean asks, holding her waist to his chest.

“I got a headache,” y/n says softly, leaning into Dean.

“Mm, you want a different type of ache, princess?” Dean teases, running his hand down her waist and cupping her between her legs. My cock tightens in my jeans as I watch them together. I never imagined sharing Dean with anyone, but then again, I never imagined I’d have a half-sister to share, either.

I move to stand in front of y/n while Dean stands behind her. I grip her throat and bring my lips to hers. “Pretty sure he asked you a question, baby,” I whisper against her lips.

She hums and tries to press her lips to mine, but I pull my lips just out of her reach, teasing her. She gasps, and her eyes blow wide. “Sam!” She screams.

I jump back and turn around. A woman in a tattered white dress stands on the rail of the bridge. Dean moves into action and pushes y/n behind us, standing next to me. We only see her for a second before she steps off the railing down into the water.

We all run to the railing and look over. “Where did she go?” Y/n asks, looking down at the water below.

“I don’t know,” I respond, shaking my head softly.

Behind us, an engine comes to life, and we all turn to see the Impala with a running engine and the headlights on. “What the fuck?” Dean questions.

“Who’s driving the car?” I ask Dean. Dean pulls out the keys from his pocket, jingling them in his fingers. The engine revs and shoots toward us. “Go! Go!” I shout as well and start to run. But the car is going too fast, and it’s going to hit us. Dean hops over the railing, and I push y/n over it to Dean before jumping over myself. The car stops right in front of me and suddenly turns off.

I clutch y/n close to my chest for a moment and help her over the railing, thanking God that she’s okay. When I notice Dean isn’t already over the railing with us, I start to panic. “Dean?!” I call for him. I know he wasn’t hit, there’s no blood, and he went over the railing before us.

“DEAN!” Y/n shouts, looking over the railing.

I run over next to her and look down to see Dean crawling out of the water, mud coating his body and a pissed-off look on his face. “Hey, you alright?” I call down to him as he stands up.

Dean gives me the A-Okay sign with his hand. “I’m super,” he says sarcastically and makes his way back up to us on the bridge.

Dean puts down the hood of the Impala after checking it and leans on the hood. “Is your car alright?” Y/n asks Dean.

“Yeah,” Dean sighs. “Whatever she did to it, seems alright now,” Dean says, sitting on the hood. “Constance. That bitch.”

I sit next to y/n on the hood, her between me and Dean. “She doesn’t want us digging around, that’s for sure,” I point out, y/n scooting closer to me. “So where’s the job go from here, genius?” I ask Dean sarcastically.

“You smell like a toilet,” y/n points out when Dean notices she’s scooting away from him. Dean rolls his eyes and looks at us with a ‘really?’ expression. Me and y/n chuckle softly, and after a moment Dean looks down and chuckles too.

Y/n

Dean gets a hotel room and cleans up, thank God. I fall back on the motel bed with a sigh. I have no idea how we’re going to get rid of Constance. We don’t even know where she’s buried. There was nothing in the article about a funeral.

“You alright?” Sam asks, lying down on his side next to me.

“How are we going to get rid of her?” I ask him softly.

Sam takes a deep breath and brushes my hair behind my ear. “We’ll find her bones and burn them,” he tells me.

“We don’t even know where they are,” I remind him.

Sam kisses me. “You’re too stressed out,” he says against my lips.

I huff a laugh. “And you’re not?”

Sam runs his hand down my body to the waistband of my jeans. “Maybe we need to blow off some steam,” Sam says, leaning down to kiss my neck.

I moan softly and bite my bottom lip. “What about Dean?” I ask as Sam unbuttons my jeans.

Sam moves on top of me and smirks. “Give him a show. The man jumped off a bridge after all,” Sam quips as he pulls my jeans and underwear down my legs.

I sit up just enough to pull off my shirt and bra. “I like that idea,” I moan softly as Sam starts to kiss up my thighs. I fall back on the bed and squeeze my breasts as Sam’s tongue lands on my clit, licking slow circles. “Mm, Sammy,” I moan, pinching my nipples.

Sam slides two fingers into me as he starts to suck on my clit, nipping it softly with his teeth, melting pain with pleasure as the knot in my stomach starts to tighten. “Ah, ah,” I moan, my back arching against the mattress. “Just, just like that,” I pant as he curls in fingers inside of me and thrusts them in and out.

The bathroom door opens, and I watch Dean stop in his tracks at the sight of his brother between my legs, his face buried in my pussy. “Mm, hi, Dean,” I tease and let out a louder moan as Sam thrusts his fingers into me hard. “Sammy is going to make me cum like a good big brother,” I tease him further as he stalks toward me on the bed.

“Is that so?” Dean asks, dropping the towel from around his waist, and his long, hard cock drips with pre-cum. Dean kneels on the bed next to my head. “Are you going to be a good little sister and make me cum too?” Dean teases as he runs his fingers through my hair.

Sam’s tongue swirls around my clit again, and I moan. “Yes, Dean,” I open my mouth and stick out my tongue, inviting him inside.

Dean slides his cock across my tongue and inside of my throat with a hiss. “Fuck. Such a good little slut for your big brothers. Aren’t you y/n?”

I nod as best I can with Dean in my throat. “Mhmm,” I hum around his cock. I cup his balls with my hand and play with them how he likes.

“Fuck, yeah, you are,” Dean groans as he thrusts in and out of my throat. “Breath through your nose, y/n,” Dean reminds me when I start to gag around him. I follow his direction, and I can take more of him down my throat without gagging. “Good girl,” Dean praises.

I’m so wrapped up in pleasing Dean that I don’t notice Sam has stopped eating me out until I feel the tip of his cock push into my entrance. I moan, and my eyes roll back as Sam stretches me, filling me with his long and thick cock. “Ah, ah,” Dean corrects me, grabbing my throat and forcing me to look up at him above me. “Eyes on me when my cock is in your throat, princess,” Dean smirks.

I moan and do my best to keep my eyes on Dean as he watches Sam grip my hips and plow into me hard and fast. “How’s her pussy, little brother?” Dean groans.

“So,” Sam moans and thrusts hard into me again. “So fucking wet,” he groans and spreads my legs impossibly far apart, letting his cock reach deeper inside of me. I whimper around Dean’s cock in my throat as Sam repeatedly hits that spot inside of me harder and faster.

Dean pulls himself out of my throat, and my saliva and Dean’s pre-cum drip down my chin. “F-fuck,” I whimper, gripping the blanket on the bed. “I’m, I’m gonna cum,” I cry out in pain and pleasure.

Dean slaps my breast, making me gasp, and then massages it. “Not before you ask permission,” Dean teases.

My head falls back, and my back arches. “P-please,” I whimper, trying to keep the tether inside of me from snapping.

Dean grips my hair harshly and forces my head up to watch Sam fuck me. “Beg again and watch Sammy fuck that tight little cunt. And maybe we’ll let you,” Dean taunts.

I make eye contact with Sam. “Please, Sammy,” I whimper, watching his cock pump in and out of me, repeatedly hitting that spot inside of me. “Fuck, please,” I beg again.

Sam smirks and looks over at Dean. “I’m gonna bust Dean. Does she deserve to cum?” Sam checks with his brother before letting me find my release.

“Cum with her,” Dean groans, pumping his cock. Dean looks down at me. “Cum. Now,” he demands.

My legs shake, and my vision blurs as I cum the hardest I ever have before, even with them. I feel Dean shoot ropes of cum across my chest and barely feel Sam’s cum as a gush of wetness squirts from my entrance.

“What,” I pant, trying to catch my breath. “What was that?” I ask.

“You squirted,” Sam smiles and runs his fingers up my folds before bringing them to his mouth and sucking them with a satisfied hum. “Have you never done that before?” I shake my head.

Dean lifts me and moves me to the other bed, laying on top of it with me, and Sam follows, lying down on the other side of Dean, putting him in the middle. “You will again,” Dean promises me.

“Tonight?” I ask him. I could probably go again.

Dean shakes his head. “Not tonight. We have a long day tomorrow, and I need you both on your game.”

“I’m always on my game,” Sam chuckles and kisses Dean, then me.

“Shut up, both of you and go to bed.”

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💗🥰

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