SPN fic: "Wildcat"
*does the dance of porn*
Woo! This bitch has been lingering about for far too long. And it's not like there is anything as "too much porn" in the SPN fandom, right? Right.
Many thanks, props, love, hugs and naked boys to poisontaster for her, as always, inimitable beta. My shit would not be nearly as tight without her mercilessly kicking my ass.
Title: Wildcat
Author: mona1347
Rating: Adult. Like, a lot.
Pairing: Sam and Dean in a threesome with a female. I promise I have not delivered you a Mary Sue.
No overt Wincest (except for the having sex at the same time in the same place part) but you can see it if you want to see it. This is an absolutely shameless, filthy PWP.
A/N: GOD, I can’t believe myself. *still apparently has some shame left* I am blaming this on azuremonkey, jebbypal and poisontaster (as usual). Oh and don’t look at me like that Azure and Jebby, you two were both lobbying for this…pairing? Is it a pairing if it’s a threesome? Whatev, I’m blaming you and you can’t stop me.
And because I always strive to make fandom a multimedia experience - This is the song they dance to at the bar. Hypnogaja, “Voodoo Baby.”
*shames* I can’t believe I actually wrote this…*desperately searches for more people to blame*
~~~
They didn’t do it all the time or anything. Just when things got. Intense.
The first time was an accident. Dean’d brought a girl back to the room while Dad was gone, both of them shit for wasted, and her giggling had woken Sammy up. He’d just stared, soft mouth open and speechless. Sam was like fifteen or sixteen and the girl said, “He’s cute, Dean. Should he join us?” and crawled over to him in the other bed before Dean could think to do anything about it, sucked him off while Dean watched and then did Dean too.
“You boys are beat to hell.”
As usual Dad had pegged it perfectly. They were cut up and bruised and Dean felt like the shine had been burned off his corneas by those god damned magnesium flares. Everything was too bright and sharp, especially Sam’s stony expression and shocky eyes.
Fucking daevas. Fucking “Meg”. And Dean had thought she might be a candidate for This too, when they’d “run into” her. Shitty comments about Dean or no. Until she’d gone all, you know, psycho and evil and shit.
“I was thinking,” Dean broke the heavy silence. “We need to get a room. Get cleaned up. Then, uh, you wanna go out?”
That was always how they phrased it.
Sam’s expression didn’t change. He blinked once, slowly, and said, “Yeah.”
Later, driving through East Texas toward Richardson, it would really bug Dean, that he couldn’t remember the girl’s name, only that it was kinda ironic. But Sam probably remembered so it’s all good.
~
They have a system.
Dean does the talking. Sam looks harmless and shyly fuckable. It never fails.
They don’t even have to make the initial approach with this one. She eyed them from the bar when they walked in and now she saunters over with three beers in one hand and introduces herself. Her movements are loose-limbed and… Well, Dean doesn’t want to say “slutty” but he’s also the kind of guy who calls a spade a spade and he only associates the word with the very best kind of female. Sam always calls him a Neanderthal pig and looks at him like he just ate a baby when he says stuff like that but Dean knows he’s slutty himself so it’s not like there’s any judgment or anything.
She’s short and kind of muscular, tough-looking. Black-haired and tattooed and Christ, but Dean loves an inked woman. She’s about as different from Jessica as Dean could ever hope for -- he does pay attention to these things -- and she’s clearly very interested and possibly a little dangerous her own self. She’s wearing leather pants (sweet baby Jesus, Dean also loves a woman in leather…) and a deep red top held together at the back, it seems, by a confusing tangle of string and the good Lord’s blessing. Because surely, a creation like this was meant to be seen.
Dean thinks, ”Perfect”, and leers as they talk some bullshit for a few minutes.
“You boys look like you’ve seen some pretty recent action. Those are some nasty cuts.” She somehow manages to say this without sounding impressed or full of feminine concern. Just…commenting.
Dean smiles the Aw Shucks, It Ain’t Nothin’ smile and says, “Yeah, well. Two dudes pretty as us? Folks get jealous and we gotta put ‘em in their place.”
She snorts. “Right. I bet I should see the other guy, too. Whatever. You wanna dance?”
“Me or him?” Dean asks and this is the test. Not exactly a deal-breaker but a good barometer for what their chances are.
“Why not both of you?” she replies, looking him, then Sam, up and down with those big brown eyes.
“Works for me. How ‘bout you, Sammy?”
Sam nods and says, “Sure,” finishing off his beer in one long-throated gulp. Waste not, want not.
Sam traces the tips of his long fingers across her mostly bare back. She yanks Dean’s hips in close to hers by his belt-loops and starts to move. Grind, really, and wow Dean likes this girl a lot. She dances like she’s fighting, all wild limbs and unexpected lunges and Dean’s more than happy to just jump on and ride this to completion. Sam’s hair hangs into his eyes and his lips are parted just a tiny bit. She rocks her hips and sinks down and back up to the rhythm of the steady rocking baseline.
Dean’s sweating and half-hard by the time one song fades into the next. She’s left one hand on his hips and the other reaches back to Sam as if she can pull him even closer as she rolls into them both.
She’s a wildcat. And they are so in.
Dean leans into the side of her face, her hair tickling his cheek and whispers in his deepest, dirtiest voice, “You wanna get out of here?”
She nods her head back towards Sam and says, “With him or you?”
“Why not both of us?”
She grins, all sharp white teeth. “Works for me. Let’s go.”
~
They get back to the room and she inspects the place like it matters, picking things up and putting them back down, restless and wired. She swings one leg up and plants her huge black boot on the bedspread. Dean slides off his jacket and her head snaps around at the glint of his favorite nickel-plated pistol in the shoulder-holster and the knife at his left wrist. She freezes, her face unreadable.
It’s a reflex to go armed to the teeth after what happened in Chicago, they didn’t even think what it might… Shit. Shit. Shit.
Sam steps forward and holds up both hands, flat and apart in the universal sign for ‘non-threatening’ and says, “We’re not going to hurt you or anything, we’re just always…”
Her eyes flick to Sam and her wolf-grin stops him cold. “I didn’t think you were.” She quick-draws a long lethal-looking blade from the boot propped up on the bed. “And you two sure as shit ain’t cops so I figure --” She makes sure they both get a good look at the knife and how well she handles it before setting it down on the night table within reach, like Dean would. “-- don’t ask, don’t tell, right?”
Dean thinks, “Oh,” and sweeps his eyes over her again, this time searching for any indication that she’s not human, and he can just tell that Sammy’s doing his “reach out and touch someone” thing because he always squints his eyes just like that. Sam’s a crap poker player too. Well. Crap when he plays Dean. Sam’s no expert at the psychic thing (yet) but he can work out the basics of intention and species enough to be relatively useful.
Sam doesn’t say anything or give Dean that Let’s Kill Something look so Dean smiles back as he loosens and shrugs out of his holster, unbuckles the knife rig and gently folds them both into the desk drawer. He moves toward her. “Good to know we’re all on the same page here, sweetheart.”
“Well let’s go then, son. See if you can put your money where your mouth is.”
”Oh baby, you haven’t even seen my money yet…”
Sam snorts and removes the .45 from the back of his jeans, casually draping himself into the single chair, shrugging off his outer shirt and smiling. The girl flashes him a grin. “Yeah, it’s a crap line.” She playfully slaps Dean’s cheek a little harder than he was expecting and presses her body up against his. “But he’s so damn pretty, does it really even matter?”
Sam just keeps grinning and shakes his head.
“C’mon, Stretch. You like to watch? Or are you gonna come over here and show me if the rest of you is in proportion?”
Sam slouches down further into the chair, shifts his hips forward and spreads his legs out in front of him. He licks his bottom lip, a lightning-quick dart of tongue. “I’ll just watch for now.”
“Suit yourself, big guy.” She turns back to Dean, pushes him up against the wall, says, “Let’s see what we can do with you, then, huh?” and sinks to her knees.
~
Dean finally drags his eyes from the girl’s cherry lips wrapped around his cock, fixing to make him scream with the slick slow heat of her mouth and tongue and throat, and looks over at Sam.
He’s got a serious, speculative look on his face as he rubs himself slowly, one flat palm sliding back and forth over the bulge in his jeans. Dean jerks his hips involuntarily and she just takes it, going deeper, and hums around him.
Sam stands up slowly, unfolding himself from the wooden chair in complete silence, and moves toward them. Reaches down to stroke one hand through her hair for a moment, letting her nudge back toward the touch like a cat. Sam threads his fingers into the dark strands and pulls, mostly gentle, and her mouth slides off Dean with an obscene pop.
Dean grunts in frustration as Sam pulls her to her feet and says, "Don't make him come yet."
His voice is low and sex-rough and she just rolls with it, turning around in Sam's arms and undulating against him. It’s like she's trying to climb Sam like a tree as she surges up for a kiss but Sam's got both hands in her hair now and holds her off for a second, playful, until she growls and grabs his dick through his pants, straight to the aforementioned money.
This girl knows what she wants and it's going to be so much fun watching her go up against Sam who's just the biggest tease ever. Dean sit down hard on one of the beds, his knees a little weak, and pulls off his shirt, boots and his already unfastened jeans. The girl fists both hands in Sam's gray t-shirt and lifts it up as high as she can reach before he takes over and pulls it all the way off. Dean leans back on both hands, hard cock poking through his boxers, glistening with her saliva.
He watches them kiss, open mouthed, hard and hungry, as Sam somehow unties all those strings holding her top on - must be one of those things you learn from dating one girl for a long time. The shirt flutters to the ground and she’s got one hand in Sam’s messy hair, holding his mouth to hers and the other hand down the front of Sam’s unbuttoned jeans, doing something that makes his eyelashes flutter.
Sam's eyes meet Dean’s over her shoulder for a long moment before he walks her backwards until she’s standing in between Dean’s spread legs. Dean picks up his cue like a pro and moves his hands around her waist, presses his lips and tongue and teeth all over the small of her back while he unsnaps her pants and peels them and simple, seamless, black panties down her legs. Sam finally yanks his neck back from her hungry mouth with a gasp. She’s writhing between them, Sam standing at her front, fondling her breasts and kissing her neck and Dean sits at her back, working his mouth along her spine and his fingers around into her cunt.
Her breathing quickens, shortens and she starts wriggling between them, making these bitten-off little sex noises as both Sam and Dean set to driving her completely out of her mind with their mouths and hands working her body in tandem.
She’s gasping now and getting impatient. Dean hasn’t made her come yet with his fingers and Sam’s made no move to get her on the bed or even get his own pants off. If Dean were by himself, he’d have sealed the deal by now but his Sammy really is the biggest tease ever and loves to make them practically beg for it.
This girl ain’t begging though.
“Come on now. Let’s get this show on the road. How we gonna do this, boys?”
It almost seems like a rhetorical question since she grabs Sam’s biceps like she’ll slam him down on the bed next to Dean but then Sam growls into her ear and slips two fingers next to Dean’s three and starts to stroke her clit. “Both of us. We want you to take both of us,” and she moans and trembles a little.
Dean picks up the thread with a teasing twist of his hand inside her, punctuates it with a thumb circling her ass. “Think you’re up for that?”
She grits out “Hell. Fucking. Yes.” while seemingly trying to decide who to grind into.
“Take his boxers off,” Sam orders, licking his fingers and lightly pushing her toward him. “Dean. Scoot up the bed, man.”
“Control freak,” Dean mumbles but he scoots as ordered, letting the girl’s hands pull his shorts down as he goes.
She licks her lips and runs one hand down the center of Dean’s chest, ending in a loose fist around his cock. “You got something? I don’t play without…”
Sam nods and hands her one of the condoms he’s got in his pocket. “Good boy,” she says and kisses him quick and hard, biting at his bottom lip, before crawling back over toward Dean. She rolls the rubber down onto Dean’s dick and throws a leg over his thighs. “You ready?”
“I was born ready, baby.”
“Again, with the shitty lines, man. Even with that face, how you ever get laid…must be your quiet yet prepared friend here.”
Sam chuckles as he takes off the rest of his clothes and Dean would glare but then…
She feels like wet hot heaven around his cock as she sinks down on him. Her eyes are closed and she whimpers when Sam gets on the bed, straddles one of Dean’s thighs and looms up behind her, pressing his long body against her back. Runs both hands into her hair again, pulling her head back so he can suck on her neck, then slips his touch from her shoulders down over her tits. He leaves one hand there, stroking and pinching her nipple while the other continues down, buries itself into her curls, strokes her clit and brushes against the base of Dean’s cock as it slides in and out of her.
Dean had been a little jealous that Sam got to have her ass but now, getting to watch this show -- fucking gorgeous brunette riding him slow and hard, his baby brother’s hands caressing her body, whispering filthy things into her wild hair, making her rock faster, grind down harder, clamp around Dean’s cock - it’s maybe the most incredible thing he’s ever seen, ever felt. Her white throat is bared, stretched taut as she leans her head back against Sam’s chest, the upper half of Sam’s face obscured by shadow and the goddamn too-long hair hanging into his eyes.
“Bend over,” Sam whispers, low and gritty, into her ear.
She moans out, “Yeah. Do it,” and falls forward, her hands planting on either side of Dean’s head. Sam, the fucking sexual Boy Scout, reaches for the lube he’d remembered to take from his pocket and flips the cap. He stares straight into Dean’s face.
And god, he’s smiling so wide. Sammy’s smiling all the way to his eyes like he wants to shout, “Isn’t this the best thing ever, big brother?!” and Dean feels something loosen inside his gut that he didn’t know could coil so tight while fucking a beautiful woman. He smiles back up at Sam: ”Yeah man, best thing there is.”
Sam kneels up behind her again and cocks his head speculatively to the side. “Hold her open for me, Dean,” he says and she mewls and pulses around Dean’s cock. He’s not going to come. He is absolutely not going to come yet. Sam will never ever fucking let him live it down if he comes now.
“On it,” Dean says, breathless, and reaches each hand behind the crook of her knees, drawing her legs forward, bending them at a sharper angle, changing the angle of penetration and sliding just a little bit deeper into her cunt, trying like hell to think about baseball and grades of rock-salt ammo. He nestles her thighs in high and tight against his flank. One hand steadies her hip and the other slides flat down his stomach until he’s between them, stroking her clit, keeping her primed and in the game.
Sam slicks her up nice and slow, introducing fingers one at a time, making it good for her and fucking torture for Dean as she circles her hips, pushes down hard and comes against Dean’s hand, shaking and moaning before Sam’s even half done.
“Sammy! Seriously, man.” Dean will deny the breathy, begging tone in his voice on his deathbed, swear to god.
“Yeah…yeah…give it to me. Come on. Fuck.” Dean figures that’s as close to begging as they can expect from this one and hopes like hell that Sam will get on with it now.
Sam laughs softly again but just says, “Okay,” and lines up behind her, stilling her hot little grinds with one broad hand on her hip. He slides into her steady and smooth. She just pants hot against Dean’s shoulder, wordless, and shakes between them. Dean brings one hand up into her hair and strokes her neck, watching Sam concentrate, so much closer to the edge than he’s letting on, his glazed hazel eyes gone nearly black with pupils blown wide. Dean can feel it as Sam settles fully inside her, a hot hard line of pressure against the underside of his own cock.
“You okay?” Sam asks her quietly and receives only an incoherent whimper in response.
Sam keeps one hand on her hip and grasps Dean’s bicep with the other for leverage. Dean's moved his hand from her neck to her other hip, guiding her as she rocks experimentally into his pelvis once more, and the other clutches Sam’s thigh, feeling the muscles there flex as Sam sets the rhythm, fucks all three of them hard and steady and relentless.
This is not going to last long.
The girl comes again, setting Dean off a moment later - he groans out “god” and “fuck” and “yes” -- with the fluttering clench of the ridiculously strong contractions inside of her.
Sam gasps and whimpers and drops his head down to lay his forehead between her shoulder blades; he’s close, thrusting harder and rocking the now-boneless girl against Dean.
Dean’s mindless, his entire brain having exited via his dick and he has no idea what he’s going to say when he opens his mouth but something like -- “like that baby? Yeah. Like him up your ass, don’t you?” - comes out. Sam almost screams and thrusts against them harder, faster. The girl moans and shivers and Dean’s stayed just hard enough inside her for her to roll out another orgasm against his hips.
She kisses Dean hard, shuddering through it, and murmurs something against his lips before reaching one arm behind her to grab Sammy’s hips. “Come on, baby, c’mon. Yeah. Let it go. Give it up to me...”
Sam’s spine snaps into a tight curving line above them and he goes silent and still then shaking and clamps his fingers around Dean’s arm, leaving five long bruises Dean doesn’t see or even feel until the next day.
~
And this is the part where it can get awkward so Dean decides to force the issue by being as disgustingly lewd as possible.
“Well hell, sweetheart,” he pants, the girl lying between them, all three sweaty and exhausted. “You must have the hottest little…”
She punches him -- ow, hard -- on the arm before he can finish, levers herself up from between them with a groan and starts to dress.
“That was absolutely fucking wicked, boys. Damn. Gimme a call the next time you’re in town, okay? This shit was the most fun I’ve had in years.”
Sam leans up and over Dean, hanging half off the bed to catch her hand in his after she slips her blade back into her boot. “You sure you don’t want to stay for a while? It’s no big. At least grab a shower or something?”
She just smiles kind of fondly, blotches of pink appearing high up on her cheekbones, and replies with an awkward little tilt of her head. “Naw. I’m good.”
He pulls her in and kisses her instead, looks into her eyes and says, “Thanks.”
She smiles back a little uncomfortably and just ruffles his hair. “Take care, Stretch.”
Dean doesn’t get up, just strokes a hand up her side from his prone position, curving a thumb over one nipple with a leer. She laughs, “You’re all class, prettyboy,” and tosses a scrap of paper with her number on it at Dean’s chest with a wink. The door slams a little with the wind when she leaves.
Sam collapses back on the bed with his arm over his eyes and sighs. Dean pokes him in the side after a minute. “Sammy, move your unnaturally long limbs to your own fucking bed.”
Sam snorts and doesn’t twitch a muscle. "I'm not moving, dude. My fucking legs don't work. Piss off, okay?"
~
It was really bugging him now. Dean tapped out five beats on the steering wheel and finally blurted, “What was that chick’s name again?”
“What?”
“That girl - the brunette. The wildcat. You know, from when we Went Out a few weeks ago?”
“Oh nice, Dean. Real nice. You’re disgusting, you know that?” Sam’s voice dropped to a mumble, they usually didn’t talk about this out loud. “Girl lets us double-team her for fuck’s sake and you can’t be bothered to remember her name.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who fucked her in the ass, dude, and come on. You remember or not? It’s been bugging me all damn day.”
Sam sighed and rolled his head against the back of the seat.
“Faith, you jackass. Her name was Faith.”
~finis~
…were you surprised? *grin*
ETA2: This GORGEOUS cover was created by the lovely and amazingly talented mkitty-03. *does spazzy happy dance* This makes me so happy it can not be textually rendered...
ETA: I am retroactively dedicating this to luridmuse, whose birth we celebrate today. *blows kisses*
Woo! This bitch has been lingering about for far too long. And it's not like there is anything as "too much porn" in the SPN fandom, right? Right.
Many thanks, props, love, hugs and naked boys to poisontaster for her, as always, inimitable beta. My shit would not be nearly as tight without her mercilessly kicking my ass.
Title: Wildcat
Author: mona1347
Rating: Adult. Like, a lot.
Pairing: Sam and Dean in a threesome with a female. I promise I have not delivered you a Mary Sue.
No overt Wincest (except for the having sex at the same time in the same place part) but you can see it if you want to see it. This is an absolutely shameless, filthy PWP.
A/N: GOD, I can’t believe myself. *still apparently has some shame left* I am blaming this on azuremonkey, jebbypal and poisontaster (as usual). Oh and don’t look at me like that Azure and Jebby, you two were both lobbying for this…pairing? Is it a pairing if it’s a threesome? Whatev, I’m blaming you and you can’t stop me.
And because I always strive to make fandom a multimedia experience - This is the song they dance to at the bar. Hypnogaja, “Voodoo Baby.”
*shames* I can’t believe I actually wrote this…*desperately searches for more people to blame*
~~~
They didn’t do it all the time or anything. Just when things got. Intense.
The first time was an accident. Dean’d brought a girl back to the room while Dad was gone, both of them shit for wasted, and her giggling had woken Sammy up. He’d just stared, soft mouth open and speechless. Sam was like fifteen or sixteen and the girl said, “He’s cute, Dean. Should he join us?” and crawled over to him in the other bed before Dean could think to do anything about it, sucked him off while Dean watched and then did Dean too.
“You boys are beat to hell.”
As usual Dad had pegged it perfectly. They were cut up and bruised and Dean felt like the shine had been burned off his corneas by those god damned magnesium flares. Everything was too bright and sharp, especially Sam’s stony expression and shocky eyes.
Fucking daevas. Fucking “Meg”. And Dean had thought she might be a candidate for This too, when they’d “run into” her. Shitty comments about Dean or no. Until she’d gone all, you know, psycho and evil and shit.
“I was thinking,” Dean broke the heavy silence. “We need to get a room. Get cleaned up. Then, uh, you wanna go out?”
That was always how they phrased it.
Sam’s expression didn’t change. He blinked once, slowly, and said, “Yeah.”
Later, driving through East Texas toward Richardson, it would really bug Dean, that he couldn’t remember the girl’s name, only that it was kinda ironic. But Sam probably remembered so it’s all good.
~
They have a system.
Dean does the talking. Sam looks harmless and shyly fuckable. It never fails.
They don’t even have to make the initial approach with this one. She eyed them from the bar when they walked in and now she saunters over with three beers in one hand and introduces herself. Her movements are loose-limbed and… Well, Dean doesn’t want to say “slutty” but he’s also the kind of guy who calls a spade a spade and he only associates the word with the very best kind of female. Sam always calls him a Neanderthal pig and looks at him like he just ate a baby when he says stuff like that but Dean knows he’s slutty himself so it’s not like there’s any judgment or anything.
She’s short and kind of muscular, tough-looking. Black-haired and tattooed and Christ, but Dean loves an inked woman. She’s about as different from Jessica as Dean could ever hope for -- he does pay attention to these things -- and she’s clearly very interested and possibly a little dangerous her own self. She’s wearing leather pants (sweet baby Jesus, Dean also loves a woman in leather…) and a deep red top held together at the back, it seems, by a confusing tangle of string and the good Lord’s blessing. Because surely, a creation like this was meant to be seen.
Dean thinks, ”Perfect”, and leers as they talk some bullshit for a few minutes.
“You boys look like you’ve seen some pretty recent action. Those are some nasty cuts.” She somehow manages to say this without sounding impressed or full of feminine concern. Just…commenting.
Dean smiles the Aw Shucks, It Ain’t Nothin’ smile and says, “Yeah, well. Two dudes pretty as us? Folks get jealous and we gotta put ‘em in their place.”
She snorts. “Right. I bet I should see the other guy, too. Whatever. You wanna dance?”
“Me or him?” Dean asks and this is the test. Not exactly a deal-breaker but a good barometer for what their chances are.
“Why not both of you?” she replies, looking him, then Sam, up and down with those big brown eyes.
“Works for me. How ‘bout you, Sammy?”
Sam nods and says, “Sure,” finishing off his beer in one long-throated gulp. Waste not, want not.
Sam traces the tips of his long fingers across her mostly bare back. She yanks Dean’s hips in close to hers by his belt-loops and starts to move. Grind, really, and wow Dean likes this girl a lot. She dances like she’s fighting, all wild limbs and unexpected lunges and Dean’s more than happy to just jump on and ride this to completion. Sam’s hair hangs into his eyes and his lips are parted just a tiny bit. She rocks her hips and sinks down and back up to the rhythm of the steady rocking baseline.
Dean’s sweating and half-hard by the time one song fades into the next. She’s left one hand on his hips and the other reaches back to Sam as if she can pull him even closer as she rolls into them both.
She’s a wildcat. And they are so in.
Dean leans into the side of her face, her hair tickling his cheek and whispers in his deepest, dirtiest voice, “You wanna get out of here?”
She nods her head back towards Sam and says, “With him or you?”
“Why not both of us?”
She grins, all sharp white teeth. “Works for me. Let’s go.”
~
They get back to the room and she inspects the place like it matters, picking things up and putting them back down, restless and wired. She swings one leg up and plants her huge black boot on the bedspread. Dean slides off his jacket and her head snaps around at the glint of his favorite nickel-plated pistol in the shoulder-holster and the knife at his left wrist. She freezes, her face unreadable.
It’s a reflex to go armed to the teeth after what happened in Chicago, they didn’t even think what it might… Shit. Shit. Shit.
Sam steps forward and holds up both hands, flat and apart in the universal sign for ‘non-threatening’ and says, “We’re not going to hurt you or anything, we’re just always…”
Her eyes flick to Sam and her wolf-grin stops him cold. “I didn’t think you were.” She quick-draws a long lethal-looking blade from the boot propped up on the bed. “And you two sure as shit ain’t cops so I figure --” She makes sure they both get a good look at the knife and how well she handles it before setting it down on the night table within reach, like Dean would. “-- don’t ask, don’t tell, right?”
Dean thinks, “Oh,” and sweeps his eyes over her again, this time searching for any indication that she’s not human, and he can just tell that Sammy’s doing his “reach out and touch someone” thing because he always squints his eyes just like that. Sam’s a crap poker player too. Well. Crap when he plays Dean. Sam’s no expert at the psychic thing (yet) but he can work out the basics of intention and species enough to be relatively useful.
Sam doesn’t say anything or give Dean that Let’s Kill Something look so Dean smiles back as he loosens and shrugs out of his holster, unbuckles the knife rig and gently folds them both into the desk drawer. He moves toward her. “Good to know we’re all on the same page here, sweetheart.”
“Well let’s go then, son. See if you can put your money where your mouth is.”
”Oh baby, you haven’t even seen my money yet…”
Sam snorts and removes the .45 from the back of his jeans, casually draping himself into the single chair, shrugging off his outer shirt and smiling. The girl flashes him a grin. “Yeah, it’s a crap line.” She playfully slaps Dean’s cheek a little harder than he was expecting and presses her body up against his. “But he’s so damn pretty, does it really even matter?”
Sam just keeps grinning and shakes his head.
“C’mon, Stretch. You like to watch? Or are you gonna come over here and show me if the rest of you is in proportion?”
Sam slouches down further into the chair, shifts his hips forward and spreads his legs out in front of him. He licks his bottom lip, a lightning-quick dart of tongue. “I’ll just watch for now.”
“Suit yourself, big guy.” She turns back to Dean, pushes him up against the wall, says, “Let’s see what we can do with you, then, huh?” and sinks to her knees.
~
Dean finally drags his eyes from the girl’s cherry lips wrapped around his cock, fixing to make him scream with the slick slow heat of her mouth and tongue and throat, and looks over at Sam.
He’s got a serious, speculative look on his face as he rubs himself slowly, one flat palm sliding back and forth over the bulge in his jeans. Dean jerks his hips involuntarily and she just takes it, going deeper, and hums around him.
Sam stands up slowly, unfolding himself from the wooden chair in complete silence, and moves toward them. Reaches down to stroke one hand through her hair for a moment, letting her nudge back toward the touch like a cat. Sam threads his fingers into the dark strands and pulls, mostly gentle, and her mouth slides off Dean with an obscene pop.
Dean grunts in frustration as Sam pulls her to her feet and says, "Don't make him come yet."
His voice is low and sex-rough and she just rolls with it, turning around in Sam's arms and undulating against him. It’s like she's trying to climb Sam like a tree as she surges up for a kiss but Sam's got both hands in her hair now and holds her off for a second, playful, until she growls and grabs his dick through his pants, straight to the aforementioned money.
This girl knows what she wants and it's going to be so much fun watching her go up against Sam who's just the biggest tease ever. Dean sit down hard on one of the beds, his knees a little weak, and pulls off his shirt, boots and his already unfastened jeans. The girl fists both hands in Sam's gray t-shirt and lifts it up as high as she can reach before he takes over and pulls it all the way off. Dean leans back on both hands, hard cock poking through his boxers, glistening with her saliva.
He watches them kiss, open mouthed, hard and hungry, as Sam somehow unties all those strings holding her top on - must be one of those things you learn from dating one girl for a long time. The shirt flutters to the ground and she’s got one hand in Sam’s messy hair, holding his mouth to hers and the other hand down the front of Sam’s unbuttoned jeans, doing something that makes his eyelashes flutter.
Sam's eyes meet Dean’s over her shoulder for a long moment before he walks her backwards until she’s standing in between Dean’s spread legs. Dean picks up his cue like a pro and moves his hands around her waist, presses his lips and tongue and teeth all over the small of her back while he unsnaps her pants and peels them and simple, seamless, black panties down her legs. Sam finally yanks his neck back from her hungry mouth with a gasp. She’s writhing between them, Sam standing at her front, fondling her breasts and kissing her neck and Dean sits at her back, working his mouth along her spine and his fingers around into her cunt.
Her breathing quickens, shortens and she starts wriggling between them, making these bitten-off little sex noises as both Sam and Dean set to driving her completely out of her mind with their mouths and hands working her body in tandem.
She’s gasping now and getting impatient. Dean hasn’t made her come yet with his fingers and Sam’s made no move to get her on the bed or even get his own pants off. If Dean were by himself, he’d have sealed the deal by now but his Sammy really is the biggest tease ever and loves to make them practically beg for it.
This girl ain’t begging though.
“Come on now. Let’s get this show on the road. How we gonna do this, boys?”
It almost seems like a rhetorical question since she grabs Sam’s biceps like she’ll slam him down on the bed next to Dean but then Sam growls into her ear and slips two fingers next to Dean’s three and starts to stroke her clit. “Both of us. We want you to take both of us,” and she moans and trembles a little.
Dean picks up the thread with a teasing twist of his hand inside her, punctuates it with a thumb circling her ass. “Think you’re up for that?”
She grits out “Hell. Fucking. Yes.” while seemingly trying to decide who to grind into.
“Take his boxers off,” Sam orders, licking his fingers and lightly pushing her toward him. “Dean. Scoot up the bed, man.”
“Control freak,” Dean mumbles but he scoots as ordered, letting the girl’s hands pull his shorts down as he goes.
She licks her lips and runs one hand down the center of Dean’s chest, ending in a loose fist around his cock. “You got something? I don’t play without…”
Sam nods and hands her one of the condoms he’s got in his pocket. “Good boy,” she says and kisses him quick and hard, biting at his bottom lip, before crawling back over toward Dean. She rolls the rubber down onto Dean’s dick and throws a leg over his thighs. “You ready?”
“I was born ready, baby.”
“Again, with the shitty lines, man. Even with that face, how you ever get laid…must be your quiet yet prepared friend here.”
Sam chuckles as he takes off the rest of his clothes and Dean would glare but then…
She feels like wet hot heaven around his cock as she sinks down on him. Her eyes are closed and she whimpers when Sam gets on the bed, straddles one of Dean’s thighs and looms up behind her, pressing his long body against her back. Runs both hands into her hair again, pulling her head back so he can suck on her neck, then slips his touch from her shoulders down over her tits. He leaves one hand there, stroking and pinching her nipple while the other continues down, buries itself into her curls, strokes her clit and brushes against the base of Dean’s cock as it slides in and out of her.
Dean had been a little jealous that Sam got to have her ass but now, getting to watch this show -- fucking gorgeous brunette riding him slow and hard, his baby brother’s hands caressing her body, whispering filthy things into her wild hair, making her rock faster, grind down harder, clamp around Dean’s cock - it’s maybe the most incredible thing he’s ever seen, ever felt. Her white throat is bared, stretched taut as she leans her head back against Sam’s chest, the upper half of Sam’s face obscured by shadow and the goddamn too-long hair hanging into his eyes.
“Bend over,” Sam whispers, low and gritty, into her ear.
She moans out, “Yeah. Do it,” and falls forward, her hands planting on either side of Dean’s head. Sam, the fucking sexual Boy Scout, reaches for the lube he’d remembered to take from his pocket and flips the cap. He stares straight into Dean’s face.
And god, he’s smiling so wide. Sammy’s smiling all the way to his eyes like he wants to shout, “Isn’t this the best thing ever, big brother?!” and Dean feels something loosen inside his gut that he didn’t know could coil so tight while fucking a beautiful woman. He smiles back up at Sam: ”Yeah man, best thing there is.”
Sam kneels up behind her again and cocks his head speculatively to the side. “Hold her open for me, Dean,” he says and she mewls and pulses around Dean’s cock. He’s not going to come. He is absolutely not going to come yet. Sam will never ever fucking let him live it down if he comes now.
“On it,” Dean says, breathless, and reaches each hand behind the crook of her knees, drawing her legs forward, bending them at a sharper angle, changing the angle of penetration and sliding just a little bit deeper into her cunt, trying like hell to think about baseball and grades of rock-salt ammo. He nestles her thighs in high and tight against his flank. One hand steadies her hip and the other slides flat down his stomach until he’s between them, stroking her clit, keeping her primed and in the game.
Sam slicks her up nice and slow, introducing fingers one at a time, making it good for her and fucking torture for Dean as she circles her hips, pushes down hard and comes against Dean’s hand, shaking and moaning before Sam’s even half done.
“Sammy! Seriously, man.” Dean will deny the breathy, begging tone in his voice on his deathbed, swear to god.
“Yeah…yeah…give it to me. Come on. Fuck.” Dean figures that’s as close to begging as they can expect from this one and hopes like hell that Sam will get on with it now.
Sam laughs softly again but just says, “Okay,” and lines up behind her, stilling her hot little grinds with one broad hand on her hip. He slides into her steady and smooth. She just pants hot against Dean’s shoulder, wordless, and shakes between them. Dean brings one hand up into her hair and strokes her neck, watching Sam concentrate, so much closer to the edge than he’s letting on, his glazed hazel eyes gone nearly black with pupils blown wide. Dean can feel it as Sam settles fully inside her, a hot hard line of pressure against the underside of his own cock.
“You okay?” Sam asks her quietly and receives only an incoherent whimper in response.
Sam keeps one hand on her hip and grasps Dean’s bicep with the other for leverage. Dean's moved his hand from her neck to her other hip, guiding her as she rocks experimentally into his pelvis once more, and the other clutches Sam’s thigh, feeling the muscles there flex as Sam sets the rhythm, fucks all three of them hard and steady and relentless.
This is not going to last long.
The girl comes again, setting Dean off a moment later - he groans out “god” and “fuck” and “yes” -- with the fluttering clench of the ridiculously strong contractions inside of her.
Sam gasps and whimpers and drops his head down to lay his forehead between her shoulder blades; he’s close, thrusting harder and rocking the now-boneless girl against Dean.
Dean’s mindless, his entire brain having exited via his dick and he has no idea what he’s going to say when he opens his mouth but something like -- “like that baby? Yeah. Like him up your ass, don’t you?” - comes out. Sam almost screams and thrusts against them harder, faster. The girl moans and shivers and Dean’s stayed just hard enough inside her for her to roll out another orgasm against his hips.
She kisses Dean hard, shuddering through it, and murmurs something against his lips before reaching one arm behind her to grab Sammy’s hips. “Come on, baby, c’mon. Yeah. Let it go. Give it up to me...”
Sam’s spine snaps into a tight curving line above them and he goes silent and still then shaking and clamps his fingers around Dean’s arm, leaving five long bruises Dean doesn’t see or even feel until the next day.
~
And this is the part where it can get awkward so Dean decides to force the issue by being as disgustingly lewd as possible.
“Well hell, sweetheart,” he pants, the girl lying between them, all three sweaty and exhausted. “You must have the hottest little…”
She punches him -- ow, hard -- on the arm before he can finish, levers herself up from between them with a groan and starts to dress.
“That was absolutely fucking wicked, boys. Damn. Gimme a call the next time you’re in town, okay? This shit was the most fun I’ve had in years.”
Sam leans up and over Dean, hanging half off the bed to catch her hand in his after she slips her blade back into her boot. “You sure you don’t want to stay for a while? It’s no big. At least grab a shower or something?”
She just smiles kind of fondly, blotches of pink appearing high up on her cheekbones, and replies with an awkward little tilt of her head. “Naw. I’m good.”
He pulls her in and kisses her instead, looks into her eyes and says, “Thanks.”
She smiles back a little uncomfortably and just ruffles his hair. “Take care, Stretch.”
Dean doesn’t get up, just strokes a hand up her side from his prone position, curving a thumb over one nipple with a leer. She laughs, “You’re all class, prettyboy,” and tosses a scrap of paper with her number on it at Dean’s chest with a wink. The door slams a little with the wind when she leaves.
Sam collapses back on the bed with his arm over his eyes and sighs. Dean pokes him in the side after a minute. “Sammy, move your unnaturally long limbs to your own fucking bed.”
Sam snorts and doesn’t twitch a muscle. "I'm not moving, dude. My fucking legs don't work. Piss off, okay?"
~
It was really bugging him now. Dean tapped out five beats on the steering wheel and finally blurted, “What was that chick’s name again?”
“What?”
“That girl - the brunette. The wildcat. You know, from when we Went Out a few weeks ago?”
“Oh nice, Dean. Real nice. You’re disgusting, you know that?” Sam’s voice dropped to a mumble, they usually didn’t talk about this out loud. “Girl lets us double-team her for fuck’s sake and you can’t be bothered to remember her name.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who fucked her in the ass, dude, and come on. You remember or not? It’s been bugging me all damn day.”
Sam sighed and rolled his head against the back of the seat.
“Faith, you jackass. Her name was Faith.”
~finis~
…were you surprised? *grin*
ETA2: This GORGEOUS cover was created by the lovely and amazingly talented mkitty-03. *does spazzy happy dance* This makes me so happy it can not be textually rendered...
ETA: I am retroactively dedicating this to luridmuse, whose birth we celebrate today. *blows kisses*