#dean x reader x sam

[ant0niepax]

Honestly I love how I upgraded from Wattpad to tumblr, less cringe but still cringe to keep it entering

[nuemanfilms]

WHY NOT TWO? || S.W & D.W.

Content warnings; Threesome, No Wincest, lots of cum, dirty talk, oral (m!receiving & f!receiving), piv, unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS. ESPECIALLY NOT WITH TWO GUYS), spit, creampie, facial, fem!reader, just pure filth, pwp, proofread!!

Summary; No plot.

A/N; conspired this up with @sadisticsammyw !! 600+ WC. and this is my first, be easy PLEASE.

16+ I am not responsible for the content you consume reading this. That is your doing.

Everytime Sam’s tongue lapped at your nectar, combined with Dean’s rough thrusts in and out of your mouth was like electricity running up and down your spine. You let out lewd noises around his cock while your fingers tangled and tugged at Sam’s locks. The younger Winchester’s hand pumped up and down along his shaft, letting out pathetic whines against your cunt. Deep groans and grunts fell from Dean’s plump lips as he fucked himself in your throat.

Sam’s hips practically rutted against the bed as his tongue dragged messily against your slit. Dean’s hands moved to grab your hair, forcing you further down his length.

“Fuck, Sweetheart.. can’t get enough of both of us, huh?” Dean teased, you moaned around him again. The vibration sent shockwaves up his spine. Sam pulled away for a split second, the head of his cock prodding at your entrance. He was collecting your slick, the vulgar act of it all just made you soak even more.

When Dean pulled away, you let out a pathetic whine.

“Fuck, she’s dripping, Dean.” Sam groaned, finally pushing past your folds. You let out a cry, Dean immediately shushing you by pressing his lips against yours. Your lips parting for a brief second allowed Dean to slip his tongue past. Invading your mouth to distract you from Sam’s sudden intrusion.

You moved your hand to wrap around Dean’s length again. His hips bucked up in your hand, a quick thrust.

“Don’t tease, Doll. You know you aren’t in the position for that right now.” Dean warned, Sam on the other hand was resisting the urge to start moving already. He had to give you time to adjust, you were so goddamn tight around him.

The younger’s fingers moved to rub at your pearl, attempting to loosen you up around him.

“C’mon..” Dean’s tip brushed at your lips again before pushing back in. Another strangled groan leaving from his mouth at the feeling of your lips wrapping around his head again, the sound caused you to tighten around Sam’s cock. Erupting another sound of pleasure.

“Ah, Shit.. tight fuckin’ pussy- God…” Sam moaned, his hips finally beginning to pick up a pace that had you drooling around Dean again.

“Damn, you really are a slut, huh? Giving yourself up to two men who could easily ruin this pretty little body, huh?” Dean’s thumb brushed at your cheek to wipe the stray tear falling from your eye. His words echoed through your mind, but the pleasure was clouding every part that was logical.

Sam’s grip tightened to the point of nearly bruising around your hip, the tug at your hair never loosened. He was already getting close in the span of ten minutes.

You made a gagging noise when Dean’s tip hit the back of your throat for what seemed like the sixth time that night. Sam’s hips stilled inside of you, signaling he was close.

You clenched around his length one last time, and he was done for. Spilling himself inside of you while his older brother pulled out to paint your face.

You’re certain that the grip on your hips had bruised, your abused cunt leaking with your mixed orgasm. Leaving a reminder of this night, a reminder of the men who were above you.

When both of the boys seemed satisfied, they pulled back for a minute to admire their work. The sight of you splayed out, teary eyed, and looking completely dazed had them wanting to go for another round.

You barely processed the fact that they were switching places. Sam’s head tapped at your lips, while Dean’s cock inched closer to your slit again.

“You can handle another round… right, Sweetheart?”

[alexsoenomel]

POV: Your camera roll if you were Sam and Dean's little sister

[anundyingfidelity]

DEVOTION — Dean, Sam

Summary: You get into the path of the Winchester brothers, and since then, nothing is the same once a bond strictly agreed for pleasure is created between you and them. When they want, they follow you, and you know they always follow.

Pairing: Dean x goddess of rain reader x Sam

Word count: 2,1k.

Warnings: smut, threesome, vaginal sex, anal sex (no dp, sorry i failed as a slut in here), voyeurism, light choking, light spanking, marking, praising, light degradation, pet names, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral - male receiving (female receiving mentioned), facefucking, fingering, hints to aftercare, p*rn without much plot honestly.

Also my main language is not english just in case lmao, enjoy! and thanks everyone for the encouragement on this. <3

GEN MASTERLIST!

“Oh, Dean…” you gasp as pleasure takes you.

The softness of your skin on top of him, his rough hands gripping tightly on your sides and rubbing your ass cheeks create a familiar sensation you yearn for too much. Every time it is like electricity is running all down your spine.

He takes your thrusts as you ride him with soft, deep groans falling off his beautiful plump lips. His hips are pushing up just a little, so he can let you know how desperate he is for you. Of feeling you, of filling up your pussy with his seed and marking you with his nails and the rough touch of his fingers.

Sam watches from afar, sitting comfortably in the softness of a sofa. He has all the perfect view from there as Dean spreads your ass cheeks and rubs your slit with two fingers, feeling the place where you two connect sinfully.

This is not new for any of you.

When they found you during a case involving powerful deities, you had agreed to help them as payment for freeing you from a curse that was keeping you chained and with no strength for decades. Professional hunting questions turned into favors, and favors turned into a somewhat weird relationship where they called you once something got difficult. They just prayed to you and then you would show up in a few minutes. Fair to say, you never let them down, not never.

It was one night then after a couple of tough weeks on a hunt, in which you couldn’t control yourself, that Dean had the impulse of calming you with a kiss in front of his brother.

Much to your surprise, it worked. The storm and thunder dissipated slowly, and soon, all of your clothes disappeared, inviting Sam to join in the process. At first, it was more like an unspoken deal, just talking about the essentials: what you like, what you are not up to, your turn ons, your turn offs… They were so into you, and you desired them just the same.

In the beginning, you underestimated the Winchesters being mere mortals, sometimes getting themselves into problems they most likely won’t solve or make it out alive. But that was what you loved about them. Even being simple humans, they proved how much they could worship a goddess, breaking you and putting you back together, again and again.

Your sweet moans and breath hitching echoes in the room. Sam immediately knows you’re on the verge of getting to heaven, until it happens in front of his eyes. Your legs tremble, your nails dig into his brother’s bare shoulders, his rough grip on your hips forcing you up and down while you ride your high. Sam is not even looking at your face, but his cock twitches and he licks his lips unconsciously as he pictures your plump mouth open and your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Of all the women he had fucked, you were simply ethereal. His brother had agreed about that before.

You lean to kiss Dean in your afterglow, sloppy and wet, rolling your hips just slowly to keep torturing him. A devilishly smirk appears on your lips when he grunts against your mouth. Before he cums, you pull away and get off him. His cock is hard as a rock, and you just give him a greater mischievous smile and a hard stroke, coating his shaft with your juices. He gasps, giving a shallow thrust into your hand.

“Stop teasing,” Dean warns.

“I’m not, just preparing you,” you say, faking your innocence, something you know you don’t have at all. Not while they are here.

You give a look at Sam, who’s been waiting on your sofa almost the whole time, and he looks more than ready to have his way with you. Legs spread, clothes gone, he looks at you as if you were the treasure he never knew existed.

“I need to take care of him too, don’t be a selfish jerk,” you wink at Dean and call his younger brother to your bed. “Come here, Sammy,” you voice out, crawling to the edge of the mattress and staying on your hands and knees for him.

He does obey immediately, taking long strides and he stops in front of you, in all his bare glory and you bite your lip, picturing all the ways he would ruin you right now.

You might be the deity they found on earth, but you always awed at how they could be real.

Sam’s hand tangles into your hair before he bends down to taste your lips.

“Which hole are you choosing for tonight?” you ask once he pulls away.

He caresses your bottom lip with his thumb before pushing in between your lips. You suck on it with a moan.

“Right now I just wanna fuck your mouth,” Sam growls. “Get my reward for eating your pussy so fucking good…”

You tremble with excitement, reminiscing about the first orgasm you had for the night thanks to his wonderful lips and wet tongue.

He pulls his thumb away all of the sudden and instead of his finger, you’re now with his tip brushing your lips before he finally pushes in.

You wrap your lips around the head of his dick, earning a moan from his throat that causes you to clench your thighs together.

“Oh, shit,” he hisses once his dick hits the back of your throat, and you gag just a little with eyes shut. “You always feel so good no matter what hole I pick.”

Sam’s big hands grab the sides of your face to keep you in place and his hips then thrust into the wetness of your mouth. His pounding starts with a fast pace, and you continuously gag and breathe through your nose.

Dean, who’s sitting down on the mattress at the head of the bed, doesn’t have the complete picture of you, but he has the perfect view of your ass and your pussy, glistening with your own wetness, swollen and used by his cock, his fingers and also Sam’s fingers and mouth. He’s fighting the urge to cum right away. Your moans, or at least the sounds you’re trying to make with your throat stuffed, are too sweet for him to hold back. He can cum by only hearing you squirm. But he tries not to, just giving himself light strokes as he observes the show you’re putting up for him.

You're drooling and spitting when Sam pulls out abruptly from your mouth and you eagerly raise a hand to wrap it around his cock, giving light kisses and licks on his shaft.

“What a cockslut you are,” Sam grunts.

You rub your thighs again at his dirty words, and you start sucking him off at your own pace now, hollowing your cheeks and tasting his precum in the process.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Dean mumbles and decides it is enough.

He crawls behind you, grabs your hips and rubs his cock between your folds and your clit before slamming inside, earning something between a gasp and a moan that sounds too good falling from your lips.

“Your pussy is taking me so fucking well,” Dean starts off his praises, and you clench around his cock hitting your right spots over and over. He moves a finger between your legs to rub your clit and force another orgasm from your body. “Yeah, just like that…”

You cry out and withdraw from Sam’s cock for a moment, whining as Dean fucks you hard. You’re so certain that his hands will leave marks on your skin, but that is just a reminder of what he can do to you anytime. Is not too long until he cums balls deep in your cunt, fucking his seed into you until you feel too sensitive that you stop sucking on Sam’s cock.

“Fuck, she’s so tight,” Dean whispers. He pulls out and watches some drops of his own cum sliding between your legs before going back to Sam with a satisfied smile on his lips. “Wanna use this one?”

One of Sam’s hands moves under your chin, forcing you to look up at him with big eyes.

“Better fill you up properly, right, baby?” Sam says sweetly and you nod.

“Use your words, tell us what you want,” he insists and you gasp and jump a little when Dean gives a spank on your ass cheek.

“Please fuck my ass,” you whimper. “Please fill me up…”

Another light spank from Dean forces a breathy moan out of you.

As you feel Dean shifting behind you on the bed, you still could not comprehend how gentle Sam’s voice can sound sometimes, yet his actions and the guilty pleasure he gives you are totally the opposite. And unlike Sam, Dean is a very straightforward man. He gives orders and you comply, if you are in the mood that’s it. He can be rough and raw if you ask him to, but he can also be caring and tender. It doesn’t matter how they give it to you, in the end you love their own ways of fucking you up completely.

A cold substance is poured on your ass, and you feel Dean’s fingers on your tight hole. Sam leans down to kiss you lovingly when Dean pushes in thick digit to stretch you out. He starts with a slow pace and you relax with Sam kissing you softly, his fingers rubbing your nipples and tits to help you ease the light discomfort that takes over you. Little by little, you’re able to take two fingers, and then you crave for more.

They handle your body softly, until you’re meeting with Dean face to face again and Sam takes a hold of your hips before lining up with your ass. He slowly slides in, inch by inch, kissing your back and rubbing your clit with his fingers to calm you down. You stay still for a moment to get used to the intrusion.

Dean observes you as his brother takes your wrists until your back is against his chest, one of his hands wrapped around your neck without making any pressure. You feel Sam’s breath on your skin and how some locks of his hair brush softly, while Dean’s eyes roam all over your body.

“I’m not gonna last longer,” Sam whispers in a husky voice against your ear.

“Don’t care.”

Your words are enough to drive him crazy. His thrusts become quick too sudden and he stretches so amazingly good that you’re left blank and speechless for a moment. All you feel is his cock, swollen and throbbing, hitting your deepest places and his fingers on your cunt before he fucks you roughly with them too.

Now you feel full.

“Absolutely beautiful like this,” Dean mumbles praises with a dark tone and your walls clench. Fuck, how you love him worshipping all of you.

You feel his hands grabbing your breasts as they bounce with each thrust, playing gently with your nipples.

“Oh shit, I’m so close again,” you gasp, feeling another climax building up.

Sam’s hands leave your wrists and your cunt, and move down to your hips, grunting sweetly as he continues fucking you senseless, and it almost feels like heaven right away. Dean takes it as a chance to plug two of his fingers inside your cunt, and you close your eyes when you cum anew.

“Fuck, you cum so damn fast,” Dean kisses you harshly, swallowing your cries of pleasure against his mouth, all while still rubbing your walls and curling his fingers.

Your own orgasm triggers Sam, and he finally releases inside you. He slows down to a sloppy, calm rhythm, fucking his own climax into you. With a low groan, Sam withdraws out of your tight hole and Dean pulls his fingers out of your pulsing cunt.

The three of you remain still, hearing each other’s heart rate until a soft rain starts outside.

Dean grins against your mouth. “You okay?”

You nod weakly. “Yeah, I’m perfect.”

“Rain gives up pretty much what you’re feeling,” Sam says, shifting behind you. “I take this one as feeling great.”

“Much more than that,” you mumble, collapsing on top of your mattress with a satisfied smile on your lips.

They shift and move around your bedroom, looking for a cloth to clean you up. You share lazy kisses and soft touches on skin before you set up a proper bath.

Tomorrow another hunt awaits, but you’re happy to be in your sacred temple with these two mortals who happened to rescue you just in time to fuck your brains out and get worshipped exactly like you deserved.

tags for this filthy thing thanks lmaooo:

@thesilmarillionblog @cheynovak @ninii-winchester @slut-for-evans-stan @laputafavdeenzovogrincic

[grilledcheeseandtomato]

Finally Giving In (Dean x Reader x Sam)

summary: you're close friends with the winchester brothers, and have been sleeping with dean for awhile, what happens when sam wants you too?

warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, gn!reader *except that a belly bulge is mentioned*, eiffel towering LOL, pet names (baby, sweetheart), let me know if i missed any!

word count: roughly 1k

A/N: GUYS ITS MY TUMBLRVERSARY!!! i can't believe i've been here for 3 years (feels like it's been forever though). i've NEVER EVER posted my writing on here, i've been too nervous...but today i'm changing that :))

here's a litte nsfw fic with the winchester brothers (that i literally started writing in a sudoku book while i was at work...?) ok ily guys please feel free to leave feedback <3

you're face down, ass up, dean pounding you into the bed. completely cockdrunk, you don't even notice his younger brother walk into the room until dean chuckles.

"i see you're finally giving in," he says with a smirk.

you understand him through your haze, confused why he'd be saying that to you.

dean leans down to whisper next to your ear, "you gonna let sammy have a turn?"

you moan, finally realizing what's going on, clenching around dean while turning your head to face sam. he looks nervous, but once he meets your eyes, his demeanor changes. sam's eyes rake down your body as dean continues to fuck you.

"let me have her," sam rasps.

dean groans but relents, knowing how much his brother wants this. with one final (hard) thrust, he pulls out, leaving you a whimpering mess. sam walks over to you, and turns you on your back with gentle hands. still fully clothed, the man towers over you. you start sobering up and realize what's actually about to happen.

you've always wanted both of the winchester brothers in unholy ways, but would gladly take just dean. now you were about to take your sweet sammy too. you feel a wave of heat rush through you, flushing your skin. sam has a warm smile on his face, all his love and desire for you evident.

you smile back, "hi," you whisper.

sam laughs softly, "hi."

you reach out and grab the hem of his shirt, "can i take this off?"

he nods immediately. you had seen both the men shirtless before, but never had the oppotunity to really look at sam. you trace your fingers over his abdomen, sliding your hands over his v-line. he feels his cock twitch, and as much as he wants to take things slow, he can't wait any longer. he slides his pants off, then pulls you even closer to him, letting you feel just how hard he is in his boxers. you gasp at the slight friction, still on edge from dean.

sam wraps your legs around himself, grinding into you without breaking eye contact...you feel like you could melt. you whine, eager to see him-to feel him.

"i know baby, i know."

his voice is like honey, and you just want a taste. as if he can read your mind, he leans down to kiss you softly as he slides his boxers down, and when you separate, you glance down to see the most beautiful cock you have ever seen (sorry dean). sam is long and thick, and you silently worry if he will even fit. he slides his cock against you with a groan, becoming more impatient by the second.

"is this ok?" he says, his cock sitting at your entrance.

"yes, please sammy."

he curses as he slowly slides into you, taking it as slow as possible, as you're already hissing at the stretch. once he's buried to the hilt, he gives you a second to adjust, before carefully pulling out.

both of you, completely lost in pleasure, seem to forget that dean is in the room, until he speaks up.

"fuck, this is even hotter than i thought it would be," he drawls, walking to your side. "does sammy feel good sweetheart?" he says as he brushes your hair back from your face.

all you can do is groan and nod, a smirk forming on both the boys' faces. as sam picks up the pace, your mouth is permanently open in pleasure, and dean sees an opportunity. he comes to kneel beside you on the bed, and you turn your head to watch him stroke his cock. when your eyes meet, his grin grows.

"you want me baby?"

you nod, scrambling to pull him closer. the second you get his cock in your mouth, you moan around it, the salty taste hitting your tongue.

sam, just a little jealous that he no longer has your full attention, lifts your legs over his shoulders and presses forward, the deeper angle making tears start to form in your eyes. you can feel him deeper than you ever thought possible, as he reaches a hand around to press down on your belly.

"you feel that?"

you pop off of dean with a, "yes!"

sam chuckles, feeling a little cocky, "you ever been this deep, dean?"

dean grumbles, "course i have."

he guides your mouth back to his cock in annoyance at his little brother. between sam's ministrations and the pure filth that is you sucking dean's cock, you can feel yourself getting close. sam feels you clench around him, and knows what's coming (literally LOL).

"mmm, i'm close too baby. where do you want it?"

"inside!" you say around dean, the added vibration making him moan.

"fuck...me too sweetheart? want me down your throat?"

you nod eagerly, feeling that a few more thrusts might get you there. and that feeling is correct, because soon you're reaching your high, squeezing sam like a vice and moaning around dean. the boys both take a few more thrusts, and finish at nearly the same time, filling you up from both ends. you feel warm and fuzzy inside, whether that's from their cum, or from your love for them, who knows.

dean pulls out first, and sam follows, leaving you gasping in an attempt to calm down. dean leaves to go get you a glass of water and a washcloth, as sam softly kisses your face and neck.

"i've been wanting you like that for so long sweetheart," he mumbles into your skin.

"me too sammy, thank you," you say with a soft smile.

he smiles back and leans in to kiss you, the urgency gone, but the passion still there. you tangle your hands into his hair and pull back, giggling. you can't believe you finally get to have both your boys like this...

A/N: AHHH OK i hope you liked this as much as i enjoyed writing it! i just recently started watching supernatural, so i hope this isn't too ooc, but i just love these two so much! feel free to leave feedback!

[cherrywitchgirl]

dean pushing you between him and sam as soon as anything feels off to him is so personal to me 🙂‍↕️

[afro-hispwriter]

when y/n is dating one of the brothers but still includes the other and gives them both the motherly type love they deserve… i eat that shit up😩

[beanzwrites]

Late Night

 Dean X Sister! reader X Sam

Description: The youngest Winchester takes care of her brothers after a hunt gone wrong.

Warning: Drinking, mentions of blood

.•° ✿ °•.°•. ✿ .•°.•° ✿ °•.°•. ✿ .•°.•° ✿ °•.°•. ✿ .•°

          Dry mud cakes off Dean's boots as he stumbles inside the motel with his siblings. The atmosphere was tense and none of them could even smile to make things better. Sam slouches over himself as he examines the wound in his leg. A hiss comes from his throat as his fingers graze over the tender flesh. 

        (Y/n) gently places her hand on his arm for comfort. "Let me get you a wet rag and a first aid kit," she coos softly. She walks over to the end of the bed to grab a fresh cloth from her duffle bag. She carries on to the bathroom and finds Dean sitting on top of the marble counter. 

        He moves his feet slightly so she can access the sink. As she runs the water over the small towel, she notices a beer bottle in between Dean's thighs. "Don't you think it's too late to be drinking," she asks cooly before ringing out the rag. Dean huffs in response and takes a swig of it. 

        (Y/n) lowers to her knees to reach inside the cabinet. She takes out a decent sized medical box and sets it on the bathroom surface. Taking out a bandage and ointment, she casually lifts her hand to Dean. "I'm not going to pretend that I didn't see your arm bleeding. Give it here."

        "I'm fine, go help Sammy," Dean slurs.

        "Please."

        Eventually, Dean gives in to his sister's soft nature. He rolls up his flannel sleeve to reveal a large cut oozing down his arm. It didn't look deep, but it looked like it hurt like hell.

        "I'm going to have to get another rag- do you know what caused this?" (Y/n) questions. 

        "I ran into a saw blade when we were in the barn," Dean replies.

        "Did you check to see if it was rusty?"

        "It wasn't."

        "Good. No tetanus shot for you today." A ghost of a smile etches on her lips. She places the rag on the wound, making sure to cover the whole infected area. "Clean that up for me, I'm going to get another rag."

        Sam managed to get himself out of his dirty blue jeans and into some boxer shorts. His back presses against the headboard of the bed with his legs relaxed out in front of him. "Sorry Sam, I was just making sure Dean took care of his wound. Are you alright?" (Y/n) asks sweetly. 

        "Yeah. I feel better now that something isn't rubbing against it," Sam sighs out. 

        "Good. I'll be with you in a moment."

        Dean was in the process of trying to wrap the gauze around his arm when (Y/n) made it back to the bathroom. His hands were shaky as he did so and he had to place his feet on the cool tile floor. " Did you put the ointment on?" (Y/n) asks.

        "What do you take me for," Dean replies.

        "Here. Let me help you," (Y/n) instructs as she takes the bandaging. "Hold out your arm." Soon enough, Dean's arm was securely wrapped. "Is that too tight?"

        "Nah, it's fine."

        "Great, now clean yourself up. You smell like cow manure. I'm going to help Sammy."

---

        "That burns," Sam cries out, biting his lip harshly. 

        "I'm sorry, but it's the only thing that we have right now- stop that!" (Y/n) barks. Sam quickly lets go of his lip with a scowl. "I'm almost done, just a few more layers." 

        "I don't know how when we just went out for a supply run a few weeks ago- Charlotte's town sound familiar to you?" Sam retorts with a snap. 

        "Does watching out for Vermin teeth sound familiar to you?" They glare harshly at each other before smiles crack through their faces. "I'm just going to move your leg a little bit to wrap it, okay? Try not to tense too much," (Y/n) says with a giggle. 

        Carefully, Sam is allowed to rest his newly swaddled leg. A relieved sigh carries out of Sam's mouth before he glimpses over to his sister. He notices the way her frazzled hair carries across her shoulders messily. A few bruises and scrapes are scattered across her delicate skin. "What you did was very dangerous," He announces after a while. 

        "I know," (Y/n) acknowledges quietly. "If I didn't do what I did though, we might have had to amputate your leg- I don't think you want that."

        "I don't know what we'd do without you," Sam chuckles.

        "We would bleed out," Dean's voice conveys from the bathroom doorway.

        "What happened to your bottle?" (Y/n) queres. 

        "It's too late to drink, especially with a kid around."

        "Yeah, Sam doesn't really need that right now."

        "Are you calling me a child?" Sam interrogates. 

        "Can I call you both children?" (Y/n) says playfully. 

        "I'm not a child," Dean retorts in offense. 

        "I had to help two grown men clean and wrap their wounds because they didn't want to do it themselves," (Y/n) explains with a proud smirk. Both went silent with their argument.

        "Toshee," Dean remarks.

        "You guys want to watch a movie?" (Y/n) asks, changing the subject. "I like to think we have the right to mellow out for a while."

        "I'm down, as long as it isn't thriller. I think we've had enough action for tonight," Sam replies, eyeing his leg. 

        "Agreed."

[lokischickadee]

Imagine being in a poly relationship with team free will

[kickingitwithkirk]

Winchester's Folly

Summary: When Dean gets into trouble John decides to hide the truth for his family

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Sam

WC: 1828

Dark! Fic-don't continue if you are disturbed by the subject matter.

Warnings: A/B/O, dystopian au, canon elements, non/con, dub/con, incest, subjugation, pandemic, mentions of nudity, physical/mental abuse, mention of collaring/leashed, sexual/slavery, rut/heat, physical altercation, death/murder conviction, show level violence, parental dominance, trafficking, branding, panic attacks, bondage, forced mating, dated derogatory terms

*Additional warnings will be added

Square filled: @spnaubingo -Non-Traditional Alpha Traits @spnabobingo -Bed Sharing

A/N: This part has a couple of flashbacks in italics

A/N II: Still working on reigning myself in, keeping each part reader-friendly length, and have no clue how many parts this will end up being.

A/N III: a few notes about designations in A/O sub-genders for this story.

Alphas-Dominant (head of the pack/family) Subordinate (obey Dominant) Breeders (rare & highly coveted by the government. Can challenge Dominant for pack/family leadership)

Omegas -Domestic (mostly wiped out by plague, few natural born left) Feral (government-supplied breeders sold commonly called O's) House O’s (3rd generation+ Feral/Dominant breed. Used as servants/sex workers) Pack (rare & highly coveted by the government)

*Divider by @firefly-graphics

*No Beta-all mistakes are mine

PART IX

Partway down the drive, the car sputters and dies, rolling to a stop a few yards from the house. Bobby got up, mumbled idijits straightened his trucker cap, and heard the Impala’s squeaky doors simultaneously open; then Dean's voice was carrying on the night air, “If you’ve screwed up my car, I’m going to kick your ass!” 

Bobby marches towards the car and spits, “Stop giving your brother a hard time.” His rebuff dissipates when the elder brother's scarlet irises lock on him. Dean moves in front of a female sitting in the backseat like a predator protecting its kill and menacingly growls at him. 

****

Sam quickly rounds the car, blocking the Beta from his line of sight. “Dean, calm down, it’s Bobby. Remember when he'd play baseball with you instead of practicing with the shotguns?” Dean ignores Sam and tries to round-end his equally quick brother when a hand grabs his wrist. Dean halts and peers back at the O, who points to him, her ear, and Sam, who advises, “Listen to your Omega Dean."

Bobby’s jaw drops upon hearing the youngest Alphas' words. He sees the O wince as she holds her arms up and watches Dean quickly shift from aggression, something the younger man is prone to, to the gentleness he remembers from childhood. Once out, she scented the air before making the universal sign for Beta. “Yes, he is. Bobby, this is..," Dean strumbled over what to call her when she held up her hands and, with her fingers, indicated the number 4444968503.

“That’s a helluva lot of numbers for your name, little lady,” Bobby remarks, looking sternly at Dean. “Do I have to worry about you going for my throat while sleeping?” Thoroughly abashed by his reaction toward the man he considers a surrogate father, he responded No, Sir. “Good. We’ll discuss this," gesturing to Deans still scarlet-hued eyes, "later." Bobby peered around his darkened scrap yard. "Let's get inside. I feel like a crow waiting to be picked off here.”

Little did the seasoned hunter know how right he was as two celestial beings observed the group from the shadows.

"You know,” the one in a business suit said, “When they told me the apocalypse had gotten the green light and the job of watching over Michael and Lucifer's vessels to my department, I thought, this is it, this is what’s going to make me more than employee of the month for the fifth, no, sixth consecutive millennium. And I was this close," held two fingers centimeters apart, "To getting the key to the Axis Mundi and mano e mano with the big guy.” His features hardened, “Of course, that was before you. Care to explain why disregarded orders to get rid of that birth defect?”

The other looked across the yard at the parties retreating to the house while his unerring memory returned to the past. 

****

Castiel was assigned to watch over Dean from his conception. As his charge grew, he was in awe of the boy's perception of others' emotions and intuitive knowledge of how to comfort them.

Shortly before his fourth birthday, John and Mary told their son that he would be a big brother, showing him the ultrasound photograph and Dean got excited, saying he’d be the best big brother to his two siblings. His confused parents again explained there was only one pup but Dean skewed his little face into a fierce expression, continuing to insist there were two amused his father.

On the other hand, Mary felt apprehensive at her offspring's insistence, and the feeling grew throughout the pregnancy. A few months later, she was fixing lunch when Dean came running in and began talking to her middle, saying he would be the best brother in the world to them. He placed his tiny hands on opposite sides of her swollen belly, and Mary felt kicking directly under them.

Several weeks later, Deans bounced off the walls, saying his siblings would be here tomorrow. John and Mary reminded him it would be longer before his brother was ready for his debut, but in the wee hours of the following day, Mary’s water broke.

John found himself juggling a hospital bag, his son, and his mate to the car for the hospital. The angel sat in the backseat gazing at his excited charge and felt—regret, aware that fulfilling his orders to eliminate the extra pup would unduly distress the vessel.

But before Castiel could further analyze this sudden human emotion, he got distracted by the doctor saying there were complications with the pup. They needed John's permission for an emergency procedure. Not detecting any unnatural issue in the mother or pups, he quizzically followed to the delivery room where Mary, despite being drugged, had a quick delivery.

The angel watches the doctor evaluate the slightly sedated pups and deems them healthy before handing them to a nurse. But instead of taking them to the nursery, they detoured to the stairwell, and Castiel quickly realized they weren't a staff member but rather someone intent on stealing both pups. The angel intervenes and then finds him in a quandary. 

Saving Lucifer's vessel left him holding the baby—specifically, the unnecessary pup whose existence puzzled heaven. When the female gazes at him with disturbingly focused eyes, other emotions trigger in the angel, leaving him unable to complete his task. Momentarily searching, he transports her to another state and swaps her with another stillborn pup. 

****

"You disregard the plan that's been in place for eons because some reject made you feel?!" Zachariah barked out a laugh of disbelief and turned to his companion. “I’m going to ask and don’t lie. What made you grow a conscience this time? Strike that. I don't care. Now, who else knows about your screwup?"

"I told no one."

"Then we've got a mole within our midst." Zachariah is interrupted by the Winchester Alpha pulling into the yard. Pointing a finger at Castiel, the senior angel says, "This is your only chance to return to my good graces. Find out who is behind that thing's reappearance."

“Okay, thanks.” Bobby tossed the cordless on his desk. “Dr. Stevenson can get it, but it’ll take a day.”

“Good," John says, tossing back his third glass of whiskey. "The sooner that implants back in, the better.” Bobby sipped it on his glass, studying the other hunter he’d known for years. 

Bobby learned the day they meet that John Winchester was an obsessive bastard who’d do anything to get the demon that killed his mate, including dragging his two very young sons into the hunter life.

****

The first time the boys were left with him, Sam had just turned three and was curious about everything. Dean? Well, he found the seven-year-old rather odd. He would get out of sorts if his training schedule were changed but patient as Job with the toddler, answering every question, no matter how crazy they were, and caring for Sam as if he were his pup. 

One night, screaming woke him up. Rushing to the room the boys were sharing; Bobby stopped dead in his tracks. Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed, rocking a howling Sam, trying to comfort him with tears streaming down his face. When he saw Bobby, Dean panicked and began apologizing, babbling on that Sam didn't mean to do it and he’d clean up the mess, confusing the Beta before noticing Sam had wet himself and the bed.

Reassuring Dean it wasn’t a big deal, Bobby gathered some clean sleep clothes and rustled them into a warm bath. Leaving Dean to watch Sam, he stripped the soiled bedding and tossed it into the washer, making a mental note to get a bed protector, grabbed a lawn bag, split it open, and placed it under the spare bedding.

He had just finished remaking the bed when Dean, carrying his sleeping brother, entered with a weary expression that made Bobby sad and angry. 

Putting on his kindest smile, he helped them back into bed, left a small lamp he’d found on, and told Dean to wake him if they needed anything, no matter how trivial.

****

Bobby returns to the present when John drops the now-empty bottle on his desk. Reaching into a drawer, he pulls a fresh one. Topping off his glass he remarks, "You wanna tell me why you failed to mention Dean has a fresh claimed Omega, let alone one beat all to hell." He stares John straight in the eye while sliding the bottle toward him.

John suppressed snarling for such an impertinent question, knowing he needed to stay on good terms with the Beta until Dean finished his mandatory probation and told him about Helms's establishment, Sam witnessing the O fighting with his Alpha lugs—explaining why it looked like it went three rounds with a vengeful spirit—to purchasing it for a dollar.

However, John couldn't hide the flash of guilt in his eyes as he skimmed over what happened at the clinic before admitting the judge's enforcement of the claiming statute was his fault, but didn't sugarcoat the details of witnessing Dean's claiming horrified Bobby.

“If everything is like you say, what'd you need Frank's help for?"

John looked directly at him, saying he needed the state order to take Sam erased if Dean failed to fulfill his probation. Bobby knew the Alpha was lying through his teeth but didn't call him out. Instead, he threw his drink back and headed to bed.

Passing the room the boys still occupied when staying; Bobby could hear them talking before loudly closing his bedroom door, giving John time to finish that second bottle. When he reopened it later, he could hear the Alpha's loud snoring, and carefully snagged the keys from his jacket, slipped out the kitchen door, and took the scenic route to the Alpha’s truck.

Bobby knows whenever John is hiding won't be in the regular places, i.e., in the glove box, over the visor, ect; began examining the vehicle's exterior and, finding nothing, opens the weapons catch. Nothing stands out when he spots a curse box and recalls John inquiring about creating one some time ago.

Bobby fiddled around with the unfinished box when, bingo, it popped open, revealing a bunch of rolled papers inside. He crossed to the garage and fired up a printer, making copies of the documents then returned everything to its original position because John would notice if anything were misplaced. Heading back to his room, Bobby noticed light still coming from underneath the boy's door and lightly rapped it before opening it.

The elder brother was spooning his mate from behind, which made sense since Bobby knew from personal experience that lying on bruised ribs dulled the pain. However, it was difficult for the man to process why his brother was sleeping snugly against her front, his fingers twined with Dean's, resting on her hip.

PART X

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx  @lyarr24  @flamencodiva   @lassie-bird  @nancymcl   @spnbaby-67 @leigh70

Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies @stoneyggirl2  @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl

WF: @slamminmine @ladysparkles78 @deans-spinster-witch @ilovetaquitosmmmm @strawblueberrys  @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @kazsrm67

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid

[kittenofdoomage]

Neiras

THIS WORK IS ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST OR COPY MY STORIES. 18+ CONTENT AHEAD.

Summary: Returning to your grandmother's house on the coast brings forth a flood of memories and secrets... where will they lead you?

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Merman!Dean x fem!reader x Merman!Sam

Word Count: 6664

Warnings: alternate universe, depression, loss of family, grief, angst, merfolk, smut (monster fucking, anatomically impossible smut, sorta anatomically correct sea mammal dicks, sex in the ocean, polyamory, weird science, implied wombfucking, breeding, belly bulging), made up language, fluff (somehow, I don’t know it happened)

Canon Bay, Oregon, 2003

The sun was beginning to set, illuminating the horizon with different colors as it descended. You heard your grandmother calling, and sprinted up the beach, giggling as you crashed into the little site you’d claimed for your own earlier in the day. Now, the picnic was gone, and the air was starting to cool, making way for the evening. Under instruction to help pack up, you shook the sand out of your shoes and slipped them on, casting your attention back to the waves.

There was soft music playing from somewhere, not unusual in a busy coastal town, but it didn’t sound like an ice cream truck or one of the small rides on the pier. You listened, and your distraction from your task caught your grandmother’s attention. She called your name, and you turned your head to look at her.

“Don’t you hear that, Grandma?” you asked curiously.

Something twisted her features for a second, and then she clicked her fingers. “Come on, child, it’s just the music from the arcade.”

You knew she was lying, and somehow you knew she couldn’t hear the music. Still, she was a grown up, and probably the wisest person you knew, so you packed up, trying to ignore the sweet melody filling the air.

With everything back in the basket and bags, you followed your grandmother up the beach. As you reached the top of the sandy bank, you turned back to look at the water, pausing when you saw a human-like figure, silhouetted by the setting sun, half-submerged in the waves. You gasped, and the figure dived, splashing a tail against the surface before disappearing completely.

Your grandmother had told you tales when you were smaller about the mermaids that lived in the bay. You vividly remembered your Aunt Sylvia talking about them, believing firmly that they were real, but you were eight, and too old for fairy tales. Maybe you had simply seen a dolphin, or something else.

The music stopped.

A sharp bark of your name pulled you back to the present, and you scrambled up the bank, trudging behind your grandmother with only the occasional glance back at the ocean. You caught up quickly, and your young tongue wouldn’t be held back. “Grandma?” you squeaked. “Aunt Sylvia said mermaids were real.”

“Aren’t you a little old to believe in mermaids?” she scolded, though you recognized the pain on her face at the mention of your aunt. No one really talked about her anymore, and all they had told you was that she had moved away. You were certain she wouldn’t have left and not told you, but not even your mother would tell you anything. “Of course mermaids aren’t real.”

Her tone made you fall silent, and you didn’t say another word until you reached her little house, tucked away on the hill set back from the sea. You liked your summers there, or you had until Aunt Sylvia had left; since then, Grandma just seemed sad, much like your mother did.

She sent you to bed just after nine, but you couldn’t sleep. You kept listening, wondering if you would hear the music again, trying to stay perfectly still and quiet just in case you missed it. At some point, the phone rang, and you heard your grandmother answer.

She didn’t sound happy. “I think we should talk about her future visits,” she said quietly, assuming you were asleep. “I’m not sure it’s safe for her anymore.”

Her voice faded away, and you clutched your blanket to your chest. Did she not want you to visit anymore? Was it because you’d asked about the mermaids? You didn’t understand, but you couldn’t say anything - you knew you’d get in trouble for eavesdropping.

Sleep didn’t come easily that night, and when you woke the next morning, you were groggily greeted by the early arrival of your parents. Your grandmother seemed so sad when she said goodbye, and somehow, you knew that it would be the last time you saw her for a while.

Twenty years later…

You didn’t recognize the little town when you pulled off of the highway and followed the coast. Everything had changed. The small boardwalk was mostly just boarded up stores and a grim looking diner, and the pier was fenced off, missing the rides you remembered, crumbling at one end. In the twenty years since your last visit, the town had all but died, all the buildings had become dilapidated, including your grandmother’s cottage on the hill.

Guilt filled you as you parked up outside. You had never come back when she’d sent you away that summer, even when you’d insisted on coming to see her, she refused, preferring to make the trip to you instead. The last time you had seen her was six months ago, at your parents’ funeral, and she’d been stoic the whole time, more worried about leaving you alone than her own wellbeing.

You’d thought you had a decent support system, so you’d told her you couldn’t pull her away from her home. And for a month, you’d been okay, until you were made redundant when the company you worked for folded. Your search for a job had been fruitless, and apparently, your unemployment had also driven your fiance into the arms of another woman. All of your friends were getting married and having children, and you no longer felt like you fit in anywhere. By the time you made the decision to move in with your grandmother, it was too late.

She passed before you could make the move. Now you were here, a few hundred bucks to your name and all of your belongings in the back of your old Nissan. Grandma had left you everything in her will, including the house, which was worth approximately nothing because the town was dead. Still, it was a sorely needed roof over your head.

After two days of packing, driving overnight, and more caffeine drinks than was probably recommended, you crawled into your childhood single bed and passed out, leaving half of your stuff in the car. You managed a solid ten hours, waking when the sun was already half-way up its climb, but only because the seagulls were so damn loud.

Digging into your bag, you located the jar of coffee you had brought with you, lamenting the lack of milk. Still, black coffee was better than no coffee, though you had to flip the breakers to get the power back on. You had enough savings to pay the bills for a while thankfully, you just had to figure out your next steps.

Bringing everything in from the car, you started to unpack. Most of your grandmother’s stuff was where she left it, and you hoped some of it might be worth selling to prop up your savings a little longer. Sorting through it was not going to be an easy job.

By lunch, your stomach was growling for more than coffee. You slipped on a jacket, deciding to stroll down to the diner and see if they had anything good. It wasn’t a long walk, but daylight only served to show just how downhill Canon Bay had gone. There were no tourists, only a few fishermen along the beach, and when you reached the diner, it was deserted. An older woman stood at the till, filing her nails, and she looked up in surprise when she saw you.

“Good morning,” you greeted. She kept staring, obviously dumbfounded that she had a customer. You tried to appear casual, scanning the menu, deciding something simple would probably be safest. “Can I get a cup of coffee and a cheese sandwich?”

The request seemed to knock her back into reality. “Of course, hon,” she chirped sweetly, pressing a hand to her chest. “You’ll have to forgive me, we don’t get many strangers around here.” She moved to the till, tapping something in. “Cream and sugar with the coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

“That’ll be three dollars ninety.” You handed over a five, and she handed back your change. “Find yourself a seat, darling, I’ll bring it out.”

You smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”

With a quick grin, she moved toward the dining hatch. “Louie!” she called, putting the order slip on the wheel before crushing her hand against the bell. A male voice answered her, and she threw whoever it was a thumbs up, moving straight to the coffee machine.

You chose the table in the middle of the six, right by the window. As you waited, you stared out at the ocean, watching the waves crash against the pier. The waitress’ arrival made you jump, and you gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I was in my own little world,” you laughed lightly.

“That’s alright,” she replied with a smile of her own as she poured your drink. “Are you on vacation here?”

“Actually,” you murmured, reaching for the cream as she slid the full cup of coffee towards you, “my grandmother lived here, all her life. She, uh, passed away last week. Left me the house.”

She paused, giving you a moment of scrutiny. “You’re Lenore’s granddaughter?”

“Uh-huh.”

“My word, girl, you’ve grown,” she exclaimed. “I don’t know if you would even remember - your grandma used to bring you in here for chili dogs when you were knee-high to a grasshopper!” She clutched her chest, and you noticed her name tag for the first time, faded but readable - Ginny. You had a vague recollection of the diner though any memory of her eluded you. “I was so sorry to hear about Lenore’s passing.”

“Yeah, she, uh - it was unexpected,” you sighed, smiling sadly. “I just wish I could have had a little more time with her.”

“She was always so nice,” Ginny said softly. “But sad, I guess after what happened to her daughter.”

“My mom’s death was pretty hard on her,” you agreed.

Her brow dipped into a frown. “Sorry,” she whispered, “I was, uh, I was talking about Sylvia. I didn’t realize your mom passed too, I’m so sorry, honey.”

The name sparked a memory, a woman with curly brown hair and a dazzling smile, leading you down the beach, telling you stories. Your heart started to thump wildly as you recalled things that had been buried for a long time. “Thanks,” you mumbled absently. “They, uh, they never told me much about - that. I was a kid, I guess they didn’t wanna upset me.”

“She was such a free spirit,” she said with a sad smile on her face. “I remember seeing the posters for weeks but they never found her, right?”

You had no idea, and told her as much, making her frown even more. “Maybe it was just too painful for them to talk about,” you suggested with a light shrug. “Explains a lot though.”

Ginny gave you a light, comforting touch on the shoulder. “I’ll go see about your sandwich,” she murmured, and you nodded, thankful for her polite exit. The mention of your aunt was still swirling in your mind, along with the recollection of your last visit, which if you were correct, wasn’t long after Aunt Sylvia suddenly disappeared from your life.

You stayed in the diner for a couple of hours, talking to Ginny for most of it. It was nice to talk to someone who was on the outside, who didn’t feel like they were going to judge you, and you promised to come down for breakfast the next day. The sky had clouded over when you stepped out onto the sidewalk, so you pulled the collar of your jacket up, heading back along the seafront to the road up to your grandmother’s house.

Or your house, you supposed.

The fishermen were gone, and the tide was coming in, crashing in stronger and stronger waves against the sand. You slowed as you heard something over the sound of the water, a soft music, almost otherworldly, and it drew you to a stop as you listened. It sent a calm through you, settling over your soul in a way no music had before.

“It’s about to rain, miss.”

The voice made you jump out of your skin, and you turned to face an older gentleman, dressed head to toe in a yellow raincoat and waders with a wide brimmed fisherman’s hat on his head. “Excuse me?” you stuttered, uncertain what he’d said. The music was gone, taking your trance with it.

“It’s going to rain,” the man repeated, narrowing his eyes at you. “You’re Lenore’s grandkid.”

You had no idea who he was. “Do I know you?”

He grunted. “If you’re hearing what I think you’re hearing,” he said gruffly, with little enunciation, “you should leave. Get as far away from the ocean as you can.”

The instruction was cryptic, and bewildering; you straightened, backing up a step or two. Droplets of rain started to fall, splashing onto the sidewalk around you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you rushed out.

“Stay away from the water,” the old man warned, lifting a finger in your direction.

You turned, taking off as the rain grew heavier and heavier, resisting the urge to glance back at the old weirdo. When you reached the cottage, you shut the door and locked it securely, grabbing a towel from a pile in your room. Outside, the rain turned to a storm, and you winced when the thunder felt like it was the sky falling in on the roof. You distracted yourself with some music, trying to remove the earwig of a melody you’d heard earlier as you sorted through your grandmother’s abundant books and papers.

It didn’t take long to find the first newspaper clippings and the police reports about your aunt. You had been right about the timing between your last visit and her disappearance from your life - that summer had been three months after she was gone. The police had declared her lost at sea, and a funeral was held, but as you made your way through the letters your grandmother had written, it didn’t seem like she’d ever given her youngest daughter up for dead.

The mystery deepened when you found both her journals, and Sylvia’s, the latter of which were neatly boxed and sitting on a shelf in the living room. Your curiosity drew you to your aunt’s first, and you skimmed over her teenage entries, reading through her later ones, when she was an adult, when you vaguely recalled she’d left her husband to come and live with your grandmother.

Your heart ached for the pain in her words as she described leaving her violent marriage, how free she felt when she came to live in Canon Bay. As you scanned the passages describing her move, your blood ran cold; she had heard the music too.

Dear Diary,

I don’t know how to describe what happened today. Mom thinks I’m crazy, but I swear, I could hear the sweetest music coming from the sea. I know it’s not the first time I’ve heard it either, except she denies me ever mentioning it. Tomorrow I’m going to go to the library and try to find those old legends Dad told me about when I was a kid. I’m sure he said something about music and mermaids.

Or maybe I am crazy. I’m never sure of anything these days, not since he fucked with my head so much. Mom says she knows a therapist in town with good rates. 

You had never met your grandfather. He had left your grandmother when your mom and her sister were little, taking them with him when he moved to the next state over to give them a better education. Your grandmother hadn’t wanted to leave, and the relationship had never recovered; he died before you were born.

Reading further on, your aunt’s words began to prod at your own curiosity. She spoke of the music often, and the urge to follow it, an urge she seemed to resist at first. But as the entries got closer to the date she had disappeared, she wrote with less determination to resist it. Her final entry was short, and it chilled you to the bone.

I can’t resist it any more. I saw him today. He’s calling me home. Mom’s gonna be so mad but I have to go to him.

Who was “him”? you wondered to yourself, flipping through the rest of the blank pages. There was every chance your grandmother’s journals would reveal the answer, and you reached for them, barely noticing the time, or that the storm outside had stopped raging. It took a few minutes to find the right one that matched the date, and you flicked through, finding no mention of anything to do with music, and only brief concerns about your aunt’s behavior, at least, until you reached the entry for the day she disappeared.

They’re telling me my Sylvia is dead, that she walked into the sea. I never believed it, not even when she mentioned that forsaken song to me. The police won’t listen. Robert says that she shouldn’t have followed the music, that she’s taken by the ocean, but I can’t believe that. She wouldn’t just give up.

The pages were stained with tear drops, and you brushed your fingers over the words, looking for the next entry. They were sparse after that, up until three months later, when your last day was marked with a single paragraph.

My darling Y/N said she heard the song. She’s only a child. But Sylvia said she heard it as a child too, that it was only as an adult she felt the pull. I wish I had paid more attention to her… I can’t save her now, but I can save Y/N. Her parents are collecting her in the morning, and I’ve told her mother to never bring her back again.

You closed the journal, realizing suddenly how quiet it was. Not even the gulls made a noise, and you got up from your now-uncomfortable seated position, wandering over to the window. The sound of the waves was just catchable, so you opened the window, suddenly hearing the soft melody on the breeze again, and its effect was instantaneous. With your hands on the ledge, you leaned into the cool air, listening intently.

Sylvia was right. It did feel like a call home.

Somewhere in town, a car engine backfired, and the whooping of teenagers followed. The song evaporated, and your shoulders dropped as the spell was broken. With a sigh, you closed the window, glancing back at the piles of books and papers before deciding bed was the best place for you.

You didn’t forget your promise to Ginny, heading down to the diner bright and early with the sun shining. There was obviously fresh graffiti on a few of the boarded up stores, and when you mentioned it to the waitress, she shook her head, grumbling about shitty youth from the next town over. She confessed she knew it was only a matter of time before Canon Bay was completely abandoned, and when it happened, she would be moving to live with her cousin in Seattle. You tried not to let her downcast opinion of the future weigh too heavily on your mind, knowing that the fresh start you sought probably wasn’t going to be found in your grandmother’s aging house or the town slowly processing its death knell around it.

The pancakes were delicious at least. Belly full, and caffeine at a functioning level, you decided to walk along the beach, removing your shoes and socks to walk in the surf. There were no fishermen that day, no one at all, and you enjoyed the peace and quiet as you strolled, occasionally glancing out to sea.

You had almost made it the full length of the beach, coming close to the sheer cliffs that cut it off on one side, when you heard the music again. Slowing to a stop, ankle deep in the briny tide, you stared into the distance, squinting through the sunshine when you saw something diving below the surface. You waded a little deeper, and the bottoms of your rolled up pants started to get wet.

A head appeared above the surface, fifty meters or so ahead of you. Holding your breath, you stared, listening to the melody as it enticed you further. When it stopped abruptly, the head disappeared back below the waves, and you frowned, turning when a familiar voice yelled out at you.

“Hey!”

It was the same old fisherman from the night before. He beckoned you from the water, holding out your shoes; you hadn’t even realized you’d dropped them.

“You really shouldn’t be out there, miss,” he panted as you stepped back onto the dry sand, sparing one more glance behind you. You reached for your shoes, and he grasped your wrist, tugging you closer, and panic made you try to pull away. His face twisted with urgency, and his lips parted, revealing crooked teeth. “They’ll take you,” he hissed. “There’s no coming back.”

With one sharp pull, you freed yourself and then snatched your shoes. “You’re crazy,” you snapped, storming off up the beach. When you reached the cottage, your heart was pounding, and your head was spinning, the melody playing on repeat in your mind even though you couldn’t hear it anymore. You flopped onto the couch, staring at the mess you still had to sort through, listing the things you had to do as a distraction.

The rest of the day felt like a chore. You drifted from one task to another, getting nothing completely done. Your aunt’s diaries kept drawing you back in, trying to make sense of the things you remembered and the things she’d written down. By nightfall, you were dozing on the couch, dreaming of the ocean as you curled into the cushions.

It was the middle of the night when you jolted awake, hearing the music almost right away. For a moment, you thought you might still be dreaming, getting to your feet in a daze as you drifted towards the window and opened it. Clearly now, the melody kept playing, and what little resistance was in you faded away. You didn’t bother with shoes when you left the house, walking down the hill into the deserted, dark town, following the song until you reached the water’s edge.

A face appeared just above the water, illuminated only by the moonlight. You stepped into the slowly lapping waves, feeling the chill of it, staring at the curious eyes watching you from the surface of the calm ocean. Another set of eyes joined them, two heads now, and the melody grew stronger as your knees were submerged. You moved forward until your feet no longer reached the bottom, thrusting your arms through the water to swim forward, trying to remember lessons from so long ago. A few feet more and you were struggling, looking around for the two faces that had disappeared.

You spluttered, treading water as best you could, shivering from the cold. The current dragged you down as you floated further out, and you struck out, desperately trying to reach the surface.

Something brushed against you, making you twist in the water. Two shadows circled you, muscular bodies with long tails, vaguely human from what you could see, but you couldn’t see much. One of them came closer, pulling you up towards the moonlight, and you clutched at what you realized was a male body, or a male torso at least. He carried you higher until you breached the surface, staring into the face of your rescuer.

The song stopped. He leaned in, green eyes almost luminescent in the darkness; you could see the scales on his skin glistening with the light of the moon, his thick, short hair dripping water onto them. “You’re -” you gasped as the second being emerged from the water, another male, sporting the same scales on his pale skin.

The first one smirked, sharing a look with his counterpart. He reached up with one webbed hand, catching your jaw as he closed the distance between your bodies. You didn’t react at first when he kissed you, sliding his pointed tongue against yours. There was an odd taste to him, foreign yet not unpleasant, but before you could voice another word, your eyes rolled back and the last thing you saw was the moon above you before the ocean swallowed you.

It was daylight when you opened your eyes again, and you knew you were nowhere near when you had been. The rock you were laying on was slanted but fairly flat, and you could hear the waves gently lapping at the shore before you saw it. You lifted up onto your arms, hands planted against the smooth rock as the disorientation wore off, allowing you to take in your new situation. For one, you were nude, submerged in water up to your mid-thigh, and the sun was high enough in the sky that it warmed your skin. Raising a hand to shade your face, you gasped and froze when you realized that there were now delicate scales running the length of your arm.

A splash in the water distracted you. You weren’t alone, and you covered yourself with your hands as best you could, staring at the two males watching you with amusement. “Who - who are you?”

One of them swam a little closer, reaching out to put his webbed hands on the rock. When you flinched, he frowned, tilting his head in such a human gesture it made you pause. “We won’t hurt you,” he said softly, in perfect English.

You blinked at him. “You kidnapped me, and stole my clothes,” you pointed out. “That doesn’t exactly scream friendly.”

He smiled. “Come into the water,” he requested, “and we’ll tell you.” His companion nodded, lifting a little higher above the surface so you could see his whole face. They were both handsome, too handsome really, and their attractiveness was untainted by the scales on their skin, the slight point to their ears. “No harm will come to you, neiras,” he promised.

“Neiras?” you repeated.

No translation or explanation was offered, only his outstretched hand. You stared at it, then slowly reached out to slip your fingers into his. He smiled, helping you off of the rock and into the water, where you felt a little more comfortable with your nudity - so long as their heads stayed above water. “There,” the green eyed one murmured. “Isn’t that better?”

You weren’t sure it was better, not with how weird you were feeling. It felt like your very cells were being rearranged, and coupled with the strange scales on your arms, you were finding it hard not to panic. “What did you do to me?” you asked, looking down as you treaded water easily, feeling a greater strength in your legs than before.

“We gave you the gift,” the larger of the two males replied. “You heard our song.”

“That’s how we knew it was you,” the first continued. “You heard both of us.”

The music, you thought. Was this what had happened to your aunt? “What gift?” you whispered, shaking your head. “I don’t -”

Moving in closer, the first brushed his knuckles along your jaw. “You don’t have to be frightened,” he soothed, leaning in until you could smell the salt on his skin. “We would never hurt you. The change won’t be painful.”

Your head swam, and instinct led you to lean into his touch, seeking more, though you couldn’t make sense of it. “What change?”

The other was suddenly behind you, hands on your naked hips. “A human can’t survive where we live,” he murmured against the shell of your ear. “We had to change you, to make you more like us.” One hand slid around, cupping your lower stomach. “A human wouldn’t be able to carry our sons.”

Something clenched in your gut, and their intentions became crystal clear. “Oh,” you gasped as the first male’s lips ghosted along your jaw. “That’s -” Their hands felt like they were everywhere, and you moaned, trying to fight back the fog of arousal clouding your judgment. “I don’t - stop -”

Almost instantly they obeyed, but they didn’t move away. You panted hard, shaking your head, forcing your eyes open to look at them. “You don’t even know my name,” you stuttered out, feeling ridiculous for focusing on that above everything else. “And I’m gonna need more than…” The words felt too awkward to say. “That explanation,” you finished lamely. “I’m Y/N.”

The two creatures shared a look. “My name is Dean,” the first offered, bowing his head a little before jerking it towards his counterpart. “That’s Sam, my brother.”

“You’re, you’re brothers?” you squeaked. “And you wanna -” The phrase “carry our sons” kept swirling in your head, causing equal reactions of fear and arousal. “This is very strange,” you whispered.

“Our species are all born male,” Sam explained gently. “We have to find a mate on land, and you heard our song, which means -”

“You were meant for us,” Dean continued, catching your face in his palm again. “We called, and you followed - if it wasn’t meant to be, you would have resisted.” You pressed a hand against his chest, unsure whether you wanted him closer or whether you should push him away. “Can’t you feel it, neiras?”

If he was referring to the change in your body, then you could, and giving into it seemed so easy. Sam’s hands were on you again, his lips brushing against your shoulder. “I don’t know what that means,” you whimpered, feeling your heart pound hard in your chest.

“It means beloved,” Sam murmured, sliding his hands around to cup your breast. “Cherished. Mate.” His fingers pinched at your nipples, and you gasped, arching back into him. “You’ll swim like us, breathe the water like we do, and in time -” He hummed, and then Dean dragged your attention away with one webbed hand splayed across your stomach, smiling adoringly at you. There didn’t seem to be a need to say what they were implying; they had already told you.

Your thoughts made a fleeting return to the home you had left behind. “And I can’t… I can’t go back.”

“Is there something back there for you?” Dean asked, so close you could kiss him. “You already have a mate?”

“No,” you admitted quietly, suddenly morose with the confrontation that your life hadn’t exactly been going well lately. The only thing you could really think of that you would miss was coffee, which wasn’t really something you wanted to admit. Maybe you were crazy, but the way these beings looked at you was with more intense desire than anyone had ever looked at you. Every instinct you had was already inclining you to trust them… the call had felt like home, and you hadn’t thought twice about answering it.

“You see?” Sam purred against your ear. “You feel it; you belong with us.”

Slowly, you nodded, and Dean leaned in, finally kissing you. It was soft and needy, and his hands gripped your hips tightly, pinning you between him and his brother. When he broke away, you were breathless, and when he abruptly ducked beneath the water, it took a second for you to figure out what he was doing. His fingers pried your legs apart, and Sam held you in place with his hands on your breasts, leaving you at the other male’s mercy.

A pointed tongue ran a path over your slit. You keened quietly, head thrown back against Sam’s shoulder as Dean explored you under the surface, using his tongue to open you up. It felt different than any other time a guy had gone down on you; his tongue was rougher, stronger, definitely longer as he pushed it against your entrance, easily splitting you. You cried out this time, arching as far as Sam would let you, and with nothing to brace yourself against, your thighs settled on Dean’s shoulders. He cupped your ass, eating you out with enthusiasm, fucking his long tongue into you until you were begging for release, uncertain if he could even hear you.

All it took was his thumb pressing into your clit, brushing it a few times, before you were spiraling into a heady climax, trembling in the water between them. Sam kept toying with your breasts, and Dean released you, leaving you to literally float with ecstasy. He breached the surface with a small splash, smirking self-indulgently.

For a moment or two, they didn’t do anything, allowing you to catch your breath with your eyes closed, supported by Sam’s hold. You weren’t sure you’d ever cum so hard with another person, but your imagination was already moving onto the next part, and you suddenly had a concern about what came after. Lifting your head, you looked down at Dean’s front, spotting his belly button a few centimeters above where the thicker scales of his tail began.

“What’s wrong?” he asked with a frown, obviously catching your strange inspection.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, embarrassed you’d been caught. “I was just… well, you’re part fish, so - sex works the same way, right?”

“We’re no more fish than a dolphin,” Sam chortled, making your face even hotter with shame. “It works mostly the same way.”

You sucked in a breath as one of his hands dropped, webbed fingers stroking over your cunt. “Oh.” The logistics still created a few questions, but then Sam forced you to turn in the water, taking the opportunity to kiss you, pulling your body flush with his as his tail curled around you.

That was when you felt it. Hard and warm against your stomach, obviously his cock but nothing like a human’s. He broke the kiss, taking hold of your hand to guide it under the water, moaning when you tentatively wrapped your fingers around it. It was thick, moving more like a tentacle than a penis, but Sam seemed to enjoy what you were doing, so you kept doing it, wondering what it would feel like inside you.

Sensing your new desire, he lifted you in the water, forcing you to release him. Your legs automatically went to wrap around his waist, and the tip of his cock poked at your entrance, seeking its way in. A burst of arousal made you clench, and he dragged you down, filling you to the brim in one stroke. He was thick, thicker than you’d ever had, and the stretch of it made you cry out, clinging to his shoulders as he ground up into you, trying to get the last few inches inside.

You weren’t sure you could take anymore, babbling nonsense against his neck but wholly unresistant to his determination. Each stroke felt like it was deeper than the last, and he grunted, tightening his hold on you. “It’s too much,” you choked out, shaking your head.

“Just relax,” he urged, slowing his movements a touch, running one hand up your spine. “You can take it all.”

Another roll of hips and your body gave, accepting everything he had to offer. He groaned as he settled deep, clenching his fingers around your hips, meeting his brother’s gaze over your shoulder. Dean moved a little closer, close enough to brush his lips across the back of your neck. “Eventually, you’ll be able to take both of us, neiras,” he murmured, sliding his hands around your front to cup your breasts like Sam had done earlier. “It has to be deep, deep enough that the water can’t wash us away.”

It was hard to think straight with Sam inside you, twitching so deep. “You - you mean -”

“You feel him right?” Dean asked huskily. “Feel how deep he is?”

With one shaking hand, you reached down under the water, pressing your hand to where you could feel Sam, feel the bulge where he was buried deep in your womb. “Yes,” you gasped.

“You’re ours now,” Sam crooned, coaxing you into another soft kiss. You didn’t argue, surrendering when he began to move, drawing his thick pointed shaft nearly all the way out before sinking in again. The water splashed around you as your bodies collided, and your grip on him faltered as you started to cum, shuddering as he fucked deeper. Dean’s fingers kept teasing at your nipples, pinching and twisting until you were nearly sobbing, unable to hold out against the constant onslaught of sensation.

Sam didn’t give you any warning when he was close, but you felt it, a slow throb that made it feel like he was getting thicker inside you. You could barely keep your eyes open, rolling from one climax to the next, and when Sam started to spill deep in your body, you went slack, trembling from head to toe. After a few moments, he withdrew, but there was no reprieve - Dean was right behind you, quickly sliding into the place his brother had carved out.

Dean seemed perfectly content to hold your weight on his own, keeping one arm wrapped around your chest as the other kept a hold on your hip. His tail beat powerfully through the water, giving him the leverage to thrust up into you, making you cry out with every single ram of his hips into yours. Your fingers clung to his arm with a lack of anything else to hold on to, whimpering over and over as pleasure made you feel drunk.

With a throaty growl, he came, and you could feel your stomach bulging with the weight of what they’d left inside you. You couldn’t help the climax he triggered, and unlike Sam, he didn’t pull away when he was done, keeping you there, plugged up and full of both of them. “I knew it was you,” he murmured. “When I saw you, all those years ago.” He sighed, kissing your shoulder as you quivered in his arms.

The boy in the water, you thought absently, enjoying the sudden calm that washed through your veins.

Dean chuckled, grinding into you again, reminding you that he was still hard. “Don’t think we’re going to be done with you for a while,” he warned, lips against the shell of your ear. “You’ll be swollen with us before nightfall.”

The sun was setting on the cove by the time they had spent themselves, allowing you to rest on the shoreline in between them, still partially submerged by the water. You didn’t say anything for a long while, dozing peacefully. When night had nearly fallen, Dean roused you with a hand on your shoulder, calling your name softly.

“It’s time to go home,” he said as you sat up, blinking at him, thinking at first that he meant Canon Bay before the truth rushed you. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just -” You sighed, offering him a weak smile. “For a second, I thought it was a dream.”

He smiled. “Not a dream, neiras. But it is time to leave. You have much to learn.” Pushing down into the water, he moved to a deeper depth, waiting for you to join him. You got to your feet, staring out at the sunset before looking down at your hands. There were more scales now, and you felt a new strength in your muscles, which you could only attribute to the change they had spoken of earlier.

Sam called your name. You looked at them, both bobbing in the gentle waves, waiting for you to take the final step forward into a new world. Crinkling your toes in the sand, you put one foot forward, then the other, until you were wading into the water to join them.

“Ready?” Dean asked, catching hold of your hand as you got near.

You smiled and squeezed your webbed fingers around his. “Ready.”

THANK YOU FOR READING, PLEASE CONSIDER REBLOGGING SO OTHERS CAN ENJOY IT 😁

[wild-lavender-rose]

Confessions

Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!reader x Dean Winchester

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: After your boyfriend breaks up with you, your friends Sam and Dean help to put the pieces back together in a very unexpected way. 

Warnings: Reference to break up, collapse, mild language 

Note: I started this a couple years ago shortly after a break up and finally decided to finish it. It’s not my usual quality of work some of the lines feel out of character and it’s super angsty and cheesy idk but I really wanted to get it finished and out of my drafts, so enjoy? 

     Sam and Dean looked up from their vampire research when you entered the bunker, their brows furrowing with concern as they took in your glassy eyes and messed up hair. 

     “Hey,” Dean called. 

     “Hey.” You gave a nod, dropping the heavy backpack you had been carrying with a thud. 

     “You okay?” Sam was already pushing back his chair. 

     “I...” You shrugged off your jacket, gaze averting to the floor. “He...He broke up with me.” 

     “What?” The chairs squeaked as the brothers stood.  

     “He thought, with us bein’ hunters and all...Didn’t want to be each other’s weakness,” you took a step forward only to have your legs give out, causing you to sink down to the floor. “I can’t do this anymore.” 

     “Honey, woah,” Dean came around the table to kneel beside you, Sam close behind. “Easy, it’s okay.” 

     “I can never get them to stay.” You whispered, your head in your hands as Dean sat behind you and pulled you into a hug. “What's wrong with me?” 

     “It’s not you, he’s just an ass.” Sam knelt in front of you, hand resting on your leg. “Hunters suck at commitment.” 

     “I don't, you don’t.” You leaned back into Dean’s hug, tucking yourself into him as the tears began to fall. “I’m sorry,” 

     “It’s not your fault, baby.” Dean ran his hand through your hair and held you close. 

     “No, I, I shouldn’t have even tried. He said, that ass,” you shoved your sleeve across your eyes, trying desperately to regain composure. “He said that he was tired of sharing me with you and Sam. That I loved you more than him. But, I tried to tell him we were just friends, but he didn’t believe me.” You shook your head against a fresh wave of tears. “I’m such an idiot.” 

     “Why?” Sam asked, his voice soft. 

     “Because,” you looked at the floor, hot shame flooding over you. “Because it’s true.” You whispered. “I love you and I love Sam.” 

     Dean’s hand froze in your hair, his body stiffening. You could feel him looking over your head at Sam, no doubt having a whole conversation in that nonverbal brother code of theirs. You hated yourself for saying anything. Now it was all over. Your friendship would be awkward and stilted now. No stolen hugs and nights of falling asleep on their shoulders during long car rides under the guise of simple friendship. They would know your intentions now. Know that you loved them. 

    “Sorry,” you whimpered, starting to untangle yourself from the two of them. 

     The last thing you expected was for Dean’s arms to tighten around you. “Where you going, sweetheart?” 

     “To bed.” You pushed weakly at his arms, not truly wanting to escape his warmth. “Tomorrow I gotta find a spell that makes you forget what I just said,” 

     “You hear her, Sammy? Our girl wants to go to bed.” 

     “Come here,” in one smooth motion Sam pulled you into his arms and picked you up off the floor. “Whose bed do you want to be in?” 

     “Mine.” Dean grinned. “It’s got memory foam.” 

     “I don't, wait, but you,” you covered your mouth, hardly daring to breathe. “You...both of you?” 

     “From the day we met you.” Sam kissed your forehead. “Let’s get you to bed. Coming, Dean?”

     “Right behind you.” Dean got to his feet and followed you and Sam with a mischievous grin. 

And that was how the three of you started the beginning of forever. 

[welldonebeca]

(un)Holy Gift**

Summary: After endless nights of prayers, two boys show up in your garden in need of food, love and care from a motherly figure, and you know they are a gift from God. When two decades pass, you have to face the possibility that a different supernatural being could be what brought them to you. Warnings: Puritans AU. Angst. Tension. Hurt/Comfort. Patreon Promo.

Your fingers squeezed the sheets painfully of your bed as you spoke your prayers in silent whispers. It was cold and getting even colder by the day, and you knew you had to sew yourself gloves before it got even worse.

After six months, it was getting easier to move on and do things on your own, now.

William had left.

Three failed pregnancies were enough for him.

You had come to this country together right after you got married. You were still mourning for Henry, but God forbid a widow be left to cry over her dead husband's body after spending the good half of her last decade with him.

Henry was good in a way William had never been. He had his children already, he didn’t mind not having another and just wanted company, which you happily gave him. But death took him from you, and his son kicked you out without caring for your feelings.

But you were a good wife to William, and you tried your best to give what he wanted and needed from you. Over and over again.

The doctors had no answers for why you couldn’t have a child, and it only pained you more when the priest said your barrenness must only be a punishment from God. You had always been a good wife and a good daughter, and would have been a great mother, so why would you be punished? But the priest just spoke more of pride and doubts that you supposedly had.

The next morning, William was gone, taking his clothes and his horse with him.

He also took all the money you two had brought and made, and left you with your garden.

At least he had the decency of leaving you with a gun to protect yourself from invaders.

But how long would that last you? How long until some man saw your house and wanted to take it from you? Everyone told you that you were alone, and you weren’t strong enough on your own, and that was true.

So you prayed to God every night and every day, begging for His help or a sign, or anything!

But when you heard the sloshing of footsteps near the back of your house, loud against the deafening silence of the night, you didn’t immediately associate it with any help.

So you grabbed your gun and crept into your garden, finding a dark and small figure over your carrots, tugging on them.

Damn pests.

“Hey!” you shouted, knowing how sounds were quick to scare anything that size.

You were surprised, however, when your shout startled into a gasp the figure, and it fell onto the mud, and another voice started crying.

You stepped closer, and the light of the moon was enough for you to realise you weren’t seeing any pests, but just two children.

“Good Lord,” you whispered.

The bigger child - a boy with bright green eyes - glared at you, and tried to grab the smaller one, but the baby just continued to wail and refused to get picked up again.

“I’m sorry,” you spoke softly. “I won’t hurt you, I was just scared.”

You moved to them and knelt to their levels.

The boy was dressed in something too thin for someone walking around in such cold weather.

“Are you cold?” you asked. “Hungry?”

His eyes glared at you, mistrustful, but his belly growled loudly, and the baby continued to cry, and you offered a hand to them as the older boy watched you.

The baby crawled into your embrace, skin cold, and you held him close. You would have cried hadn’t you been worried about the boy. He was soaking wet, but it hadn’t rained for days. You had also never seen any of the two kids around in the whole year you’d been living here.

“There’s a fire going inside,” you whispered. “I have food. Real food.”

He blinked and just nodded.

So, you picked up the baby, and walked inside, letting the boy follow you home, and sat in front of your fireplace, taking the whining baby in his arms to warm up, and let you wrap them in a thick quilt.

“Sammy needs food,” he outrightly demanded, reaching just to hold Sammy tightly. “He’s hungry.”

You chuckled a bit, but nodded.

“I’ll warm up some soup,” you assured him.

You were pulling your pots when the boys whispered to one another.

“De?” the baby called. “When can we go home?”

You tried to pretend you weren’t hearing them, feeding the fire to heat up the soup you’d made for yourself earlier, adding a bit more carrots to it.

Was he older than a baby? He talked like a child. Maybe he wasn’t fed well, that was why he was so small.

“No, Sammy. I can’t let daddy hurt you!” the boy affirmed.

Hurt them?

“He didn’t mean to…”

The whispers became too soft for you to hear, and you tried to focus on your soup, waiting for it to boil. They needed food, yes, but those boys needed clothes.

After your second child, you had coped with sewing, and even sold clothes to the families with kids in the town - it was how you made the little money you had. You had a few winter clothes here, you knew they would fit in them.

There were still clothes you couldn’t sell away, the ones you made for your own babies.

You filled two bowls with soup for them, and placed the bowl in front of them with spoons.

"Don’t eat too fast,” you instructed him. “I’ll be right back, I’m just going to grab you some clothes."

You wondered if Sammy was old enough to feed himself, but dean quickly took his spoon and started to feed the little boy as you strode away, going to your chest and taking some pieces that probably fit them.

You were surprised to find one of the bowls empty, and the boy - Dee - feeding Sammy more out of his own.

“Hey,” you called.

He shot you a look, and then moved back to feed his brother.

“Sammy is hungry,” he mumbled.

You shook your head. Oh, what a selfless big brother he was.

“It’s alright, there is enough food for the two of you,” you assured him, picking up the empty bowl. “Did Sammy like fish?”

“Yes,” the baby affirmed quickly.

You smiled, and moved back to your soup, making sure to add more of the fish - the meat you’d put inside it - and the vegetables into it, and walked back to them.

“Now eat your soup,” you told the boy. “I’ll feed Sammy, and then you can have more too, okay?”

He nodded, and Sammy looked at you with big hazel eyes, and you blew on his soup to cool him before moving back to feed him, and he hungrily took every spoon of his soup.

Behind him, Dee ate his food hesitantly, but it was clear he was just as hungry as his brother - if not more.

The boys ate nearly half the pot before their tummies were full, and you smiled at that, proud.

"Oh, my, you ate a lot!" you praised them, poking their bellies.

Sammy giggled and Dee blushed, clinging to the sheet around his shoulders.

“Let’s dress you up, now,” you offered them. “I have something warm for you.”

You picked Sammy up and Dee followed you, scratching his eye as you showed him the clothes.

“I can do it!” Dee whined, trying to stop you from taking Sammy.

The smaller boy whined, but his brother was insistent, and you didn’t fight as he pulled his little brother back.

“You’re a stranger!” he huffed.

It was clear that the boy was very mistrusting of you, even if you were nice.

“Oh dear,” you sighed, sitting down, trying to understand it from his side. . “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He shot you a look, shielding his brother with his body as he undressed him from his clothes and put his new clothes on quickly.

“I guess I do seem a bit strange, don’t I?” you asked him. “I never even gave you my name.”

He threw you another very quick glare.

“I’m Y/N,” you told him.

His glare suddenly disappeared, and his look softened.

“That’s… that’s a pretty name...” he muttered, putting on Sammy’s trousers, and the boy giggled as his brother tied them in place.

He was quick and did it with ease, as if he had already done that many, many times before.

How much had those boys gone through together?

“My name is Dean…” he affirmed, “And this is Sammy, but only I call him that!” he stated stubbornly.

You smiled a little.

“And what should I call him?”

Dean frowned, looking at your face.

“Samuel,” he told you. “Sam.”

You nodded along.

“Okay,” you told him. “Why don’t you change, Dean? You need to warm up too.”

He threw you a hesitant look, and you smiled a little.

“I can turn around,” you offered.

Dean nodded, accepting it, and you turned away from him, just listening to him fumble behind you, and Sam giggled at something when his brother grunted.

“You’re stuck,” Sam giggled.

You looked back, and held back a smile when you realised that Dean was stuck taking off his tunic, though he still had his trousers on.

“Do you want help?” you offered.

“No!” he squirmed.

He stopped, and you knew he was very upset.

“Yes,” Dean mumbled, at last.

You moved to him and unbuttoned his collar, helping him out of the old piece, holed and old, and you wondered when it was the last time he had even changed out of it.

“Tomorrow, I’ll draw you a bath,” you told him, taking the new shirt and dressing him up. “Do you remember the last time you had one?”

Dean jumped away from you as if you had just suggested throwing him into the fire.

“No!” he shouted, grabbing Sam and shielding him with his body. “No bath.”

Your eyes widened in shock. He was completely terrified.

“Okay!” you said quickly. “No bath! You don’t need to have a bath.”

He squeezed his brother, and you ran your hands on your skirt.

“We can clean you with a wet cloth, okay?” you offered him. “It works the same, it’s alright.”

Dean shifted his jaw, still scared.

You sighed. It pained you that something so horrid could have happened to those little boys.

They didn't even seem to worry about their parents, except for their father - though he didn't sound like he had done a good job.

"It's getting late anyway," you changed the subject. "You can sleep on my bed."

You could have offered to share it, the bed was very big, but you wanted them to be comfortable. So when they lay down, you took yourself one sheet and put it on your rocking chair, walking back to them when Dean wrapped himself around his brother.

The boys looked at you with curiosity and exhaustion, and you tucked them in silently, sitting back away.

They were quick to sleep, and you let yourself drift off after them, but as soon as you closed your eyes, there was a tug on your leg, and you looked down to find Sam right there.

You looked back at Dean, clutching a pillow as he slept, and picked Sam up in your arms.

“What is wrong?” you asked softly as he hid under your blanket, curling against you. “Can’t sleep, Sam?”

“Want to sleep with you,” he mumbled. “You’re very soft.”

You smiled a little. Yes, you were very soft.

You watched the boy get comfortable before your mouth was quicker than your brain.

"Sam... why were you and your brother all alone?" you asked.

They were so little. It was a surprise they had survived a single day on their own.

Sam looked at your face and then at Dean.

"Dee took me away," he yawned. "He said daddy hurt me."

You brushed his dirty hair back, watching his face. What kind of father would hurt his children?

"He tried to give me a bath but it itched, and he held me down inside, and I couldn't breathe," he told you, and his tone turned cryptic. "Daddy wanted me to be clean, but I can't be clean."

You watched him. Itchy water?

And he held him down... to kill him. Drown him.

"Do you have a mother, Sam?" you asked her.

People went mad when grief struck them. You'd seen that many times.

Sam looked a bit shocked at your question, but calmed down quickly.

“De said not to talk about her,” he whispered. “I was a baby when a fire took her, but daddy said something else was there too. He never said it to me or Dean, only to himself when we were sleeping."

You watched his face. So many big words for a baby no older than two.

"I don’t have a mama, but you don’t have a baby," he affirmed.

. . .

"(un)Holy Gift is a Puritan AU fully posted on my Patreon. To read it now, subscribe to my page! It's just $2 a week and I promise you won't regret it.

[anundyingfidelity]

YES, MA’AM — Sam Winchester/Sam Wesson ft. Dean Winchester/Dean Smith (Chapter I)

Summary: Sam is the new tech support guy at Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc., and he thinks you, his supervisor, are related to him in ways more than professional. He not only dreams of ghosts and Dean Smith, the sales and marketing director, but you, the pretty boss who seems very fond of him, maybe a little too much.

Word count: 1.3k.

Pairing: Sam W./Sam Wesson x female reader (main), Dean W./Dean Smith x female reader. Situated in 4x17 - It's a Terrible Life.

Warnings for this series: smut with plot, sexual tension, sub!Sam, dom!reader, switch!Dean, co-workers with benefits with Dean, boss/employee dynamics, canon violence and stuff. Slow updates oops.

Notes: welcome to my very first spn fanfic, hope you enjoy this short series of Sam and Dean!

If you'd like to be added, the taglist is here!

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GEN MASTERLIST!

Chapter I | Chapter II

Chapter I: A Boring Life

Taking a quick look at the clock on the corner of the screen of his computer, Sam let out a long sigh. Lunch hour was far from near. He continued drawing the monsters he saw in his dreams on the notebook, those who wouldn't let him continue his abnormally boring and stupid life.

"Hey, Sam," a voice called, making him jump slightly on his seat.

He cleared his throat shutting the notebook and sitting right this time as he took in your figure towering over him in the cubicle with a smile on your lips.

"Hi, uhm... Is something wrong?"

You chuckled slightly. He wanted to slap himself for saying that. For Sam, bosses coming to him meant he might have done something wrong. He didn't want to know what he screwed up. Barely three weeks have passed since he started working there. As much as things were strange and weird around, Sam just wanted a quiet life.

"Not at all," you answered in a friendly manner. "Actually I just wanted to give you kudos. I've received good compliments from customers who called for help, you're doing excellent!"

Sam breathed out, feeling a heavy weight on his back dropping. He smiled. "Well, thank you. It feels good doing that."

But a raise or something would feel absolutely better, he thought.

"Sure! You're brilliant, have you ever been told that?"

"Uhm, not here. I mean- I want to say you're the first one. Sorry, the first one to say I'm brilliant, I- uhm I never really got kudos before? I don't think so but it does feel great."

He stumbled so much with his words that it made you laugh a little but he noticed you tried to suppress it. So you gave him a nod.

"Yeah, of course. I also see you're very organized with your stuff and reports," you remarked before taking a quick glance around and leaning a little bit toward him, your face morphing into a shy look. "Probably I shouldn't but could you help me with some reports today? You'd be off the phone, I just really need to send them by the end of the day and I'm extremely busy."

You bit your painted lower lip with big doe eyes, waiting for an answer. Since the first day he saw you around the company, he thought you looked extremely familiar. Like he had seen you before. Hell, it was like he knew you ages ago. But he wouldn't say it out loud, he might look like a creep.

You'd usually come like this to his spot just to talk and get into business, sometimes he'd go to ask you something he wasn't sure about from a call, but he never, ever herd from a complaint or that his work was shit from you. In fact, you were very kind and smart, always letting him know you were there if he needed anything. And you were pretty. So damn beautiful that you got his heart agitated and his body aching when you bent over a desk wearing tight black pencil skirts and those matching high stockings. He began to think probably you liked him but you used to get close to all of your employees on the tech support floor. You were just being nice to everyone.

"Uh, sure. I can do that," Sam curved his lips into a smile.

"Thank you, you're a lifesaver! I'll send you those in your email, ask me anything if it's difficult, okay?"

You responded with happy demeanour and quickly walked away back to your office, leaving him alone before he had the moment to say something. Just two minutes later he received an email from you with a bunch of reports and data to organize.

Sam scanned the files quickly while hearing the sounds of a chair rolling to his side.

"I think she likes you, man," Ian, the messy and chill coworker of his, teased. Sam chuckled.

"Nah, she's just nice to everyone. Besides, she needs help."

Suddenly, a notification popped from the side of his screen on the computer.

It was a message from you. It read:

Put on the headphones and listen to some music if you want ;)

"You were saying?" Ian joked again.

He smiled. Well, at least he'd be off the phone. Shouldn't be that hard, right?

The night fell and Sam found himself alone on his desk at eight o'clock working on your reports. Seeing the long reports and files he thought could make it on time to finish his shift at four and leave on time. It was fucking Friday. Poor him.

At least you ordered delivery for dinner for both of you. The good thing was that he wasn't really alone on the floor, you were in your office but soft music played as you worked on your stuff. Moments later, you found yourself sitting by Sam's side as he worked the final things on the last report.

"It's done," he announced, his body falling to the backrest of his chair.

"Thanks," you whispered shyly as he sent the finished files back to you. "I'm so sorry though, it's so late."

"Well, didn't have anything to do either."

"Really?!"

Your surprise made his eyes fall on you. He shrugged. "Just sleep."

You raised your eyebrows. "I thought maybe a girlfriend was waiting for you or something?"

He shook his head, pressing his lips together. "No, nothing like that."

The question was odd coming from you, so he decided to play a little.

"What about you?"

This time you shook your head. "Just my books and my TV."

Sam hummed. "It's a boring life, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well I get to pay my bills by the end of the month... And I meet nice people here... And I see you- Sorry."

You cut off your words all of a sudden, your eyes blinking rapidly saying you realized what you just said.

"My bad. We should get going."

You gave him a smile to try and brush off your words, but they were strong enough to get in Sam's head unnoticed. He watched you walk away, turning your computer and lights off on your office as Sam did the same on his spot. Once done, you walked out the floor together in silence.

"Thank you again. I don't think no one would ever do this for me here," you admitted with a deep exhale.

"Yeah, no problem," Sam smiled kindly as you got closer to the elevator.

"Really, I owe you. Do you have a car to get home or something? I can give you a ride if you need."

"I do, don't worry," he said as you stopped in front of the elevator, the doors opening.

"Great, so I think this is it," you grinned at him. "Have a good night."

"Thanks. I hope you have a good weekend, boss."

You nodded. "You too, Sam. Take care."

He saw you disappearing inside the elevator with a wave of your hand and a beautiful smile on your face. With a sigh, he made his way to the locker room and took his briefcase and stuff out. It was just a couple of minutes that he saw you leaving when he went back to the elevator. Checking his watch, the lift arrived and before he could get inside, he got a shocking picture in front of him.

Dean Smith, the marketing director, had you pinned against the wall and kissing down your neck. Your blouse unbuttoned, skirt up, lips open and eyes closed in bliss. Dean noticed the doors were open, pulling away his plump lips from your skin.

"Sorry buddy, wrong floor," he beamed and pushed the right button.

When you opened your eyes once again, you met Sam's open mouth and wide eyes as the doors closed. Great, now he might think you're a slut. 

[negans-lucille-tblr]

Dean x Reader x Sam - Oneshot Masterlist

All my oneshot fics that contain both Dean x Reader & Sam x Reader

< Main SPN Masterlist || < Dean x Reader x Sam Masterlist

> CROSSOVERS || > Sister/Daughter!Reader/Wincest Masterlist

Birthday Pie

Summary:  No one should be in a bad mood on their birthday, not even the brooding Dean Winchester, and Sam has just the gift; you.

Rating: 18+ NSFW (Smut)

* * *

Man Enough

(sub!Dean x switch!reader x Dom!Sam)

Summary: Dean knows he’s not man enough to please his girlfriend. Luckily, his little brother is.

Rating: 18+ NSFW (Absolutely disgustingly filthy)

[saiacross]

Master List

AO3 OFC List AO3 Reader-Insert List

⚠️ Spicy/Smut 🍀Major Plot Chapter 1 The Meeting Chapter 2 Who.. What? 🍀 Bonus Chapter 1 Oh Cass. (After Ch. 2) Chapter 3 A Painful Reminder 🍀 Chapter 3.5 Mystery Man Bonus Chapter 2 A Secret Boyfriend?  (After Ch. 3.5) Chapter 4 Angelique, The Good Little Witch Chapter 5 First Children Now Winchesters Chapter 6 Feeding ⚠️ Sam Chapter 7 Father🍀 Chapter 8 Funny Days, Horrid Nights. Chapter 9 Hallucinations Chapter 10 Young Sam Chapter 11 Together Again ⚠️ Dean Bonus Chapter 3 A Stormy Night (After Ch. 11) Chapter 12 Dragons and Leon Pt. 1 Chapter 12 Dragons and Leon Pt. 2 Chapter 13 Wanted Chapter 14 The Truths Unveiled🍀 Chapter 15 A New Threat Chapter 16 Tails ⚠️ Dean Chapter 17 Spell Gone Wrong Chapter 17.5 The Club Chapter 18 Captured, Tortured, and Sealed 🍀 Chapter 19 To Be or Not To Be Human pt1  🍀 Chapter 20 To Be or Not To Be Human pt2  🍀 Chapter 21 The Reveal & The Heat ⚠️ Sam Chapter 22: Bonds Forged ⚠️Dean Bonus Chapter 4: Bonding (After Ch. 22) Chapter 23: A Day of Truths Chapter 24: Happy Birthdays ⚠️Dean ⚠️Sam Chapter 25: A Watery Grave Bonus Chapter 5: Surprise! (After Ch. 25)

One-Shots Panic ⚠️