Archive of Our Own ^beta

The second you register Sam standing outside the grocery store, your entire body freezes to the spot. His tall frame looms over your beat up old Corvette, elbow propped on the roof like he’s just casually waiting for someone. Waiting for you.

How the fuck did he find you?

You were careful. So damn careful. Firstly, your name had to go - Winchester branded into your DNA like a disease, not to mention a moth to a flame when blurted out in the wrong company. You burnt every shred of your identity, erased your entire existence, altering your appearance so drastically that you melted in amongst a crowd but it seemed it wasn’t enough.

After all, the Winchesters were - are - the best hunters in the world. And if Sam is here then that posed a more worrying realisation - Dean can’t be far behind.

Regardless of their predicaments - the monstrosities they’ve become - they still hunt together, except this time you’re the prey. Just the thought of them catching you makes your stomach cramp with nausea.

You swallow hard, a thick lump sticking to the insides of your throat causing you to splutter right in the middle of the queue. You duck down behind the man in front of you as Sam’s head jolts in your direction, almost like he heard you.

Dropping the groceries on the conveyor belt, you weave in and out of aisles and people, trying to think of another way out. Staff will see you sneaking out the back door but you’d rather face a barrage of angry store employees than the giant stood at the front entrance. You can’t take the chance that Dean is with him.

Sam scared you but Dean. Dean was a whole other level of twisted. The demon he had become shaped him into a monster and Sam? Well Sam just didn’t care. He didn’t care when Dean attacked you, forced himself on you, made you beg for his cock. He just sat there and let Dean do whatever depraved things he could think of. Without a soul, Sam didn’t feel the need to come to your aid - especially when he took his fair share of turns when Dean was finished with you.

But Dean was never truly finished.

That’s why you had to run away. Escape their clutches before you ended up dead. You managed five blissful months out of their clutches but it looks like your time has run out.

You reach the back door, finding it partially blocked by rubbish but you manage to shift enough of it to climb through a slither of open space. Cold wintry air blasts against your hot cheeks as you slowly start to jog across the separate staff parking lot behind the store, mindful to keep a watching eye on your surroundings.

Winchester blood still runs in your veins. The instincts John had instilled into you as a child would be seared into your memory until your dying day.

You get as far as the dumpster, eyes falling to the stack of bodies dressed in store uniforms piled high behind it. They can’t leave witnesses. Anyone that can locate your whereabouts or who took you. Fear trembles in your heart knowing you’re shit outta luck as a familiar yet unwelcome face slowly appears around the murdered innocents.

“Hey baby sis, where you think ya going?” Dean’s smile curls up into an evil sneer, his eyes blinking onyx.

Fuck.

***

The van they bundled you into smells of acrid smoke and decomposing roadkill. If you hadn’t felt nauseous before, you certainly do now - the putrid stench of rotting flesh clinging to your skin like glue.

It took you a second to wonder why they hadn’t brought the Impala but then it dawns on you that Baby would have given them away far too quickly. And they just love the element of surprise these days.

Sam’s been driving for just short of an hour and already Dean’s had you choking on his cock, fucking your throat raw. Tears still damp on your cheeks and gloops of spit and come slowly drying on your chin, you lay on the moth eaten mattress watching the back of Sam’s head as he concentrates on the road. You don’t want to know where Dean is but you do attempt to glance out of the windshield - scouring the view ahead for any kind of sign that might give you an idea to where you’re headed but the sudden knock to the back of your skull slowly turns your world to black.

***

“She might have a concussion.” Sam’s voice slowly comes into focus as you blink into bright light, your head pounding.

“Since when do you care if she never wakes up again?” You hear Dean reply.

You’d hoped the past two hours had just been a horrible, painfully realistic dream but hearing their voices above you makes you realise that this is very much your reality. There’s no waking up from this.

“I don’t but we can’t exactly take her to a damn hospital Dean. Why you always gotta resort to violence with her?”

“Keeps her pliant doesn’t it? And I know you prefer her when she can barely fight back.” You can literally hear the smirk in Dean’s tone. Bile rises into your throat and you struggle to hold back a retch. They both stop talking at the sound and gaze down at you, their lips twisting into malicious grins.

“Ah, wakey wakey gorgeous.” Dean kneels down next to you, Sam towering behind him.

He strokes your cheek almost too tenderly and you find yourself inexplicably leaning into it. You know it’s a trap, lulling you into a false sense of security but you can’t seem to stop yourself. Body betraying you, veins sing as Dean’s touch makes your pussy flood with heat. “Oh boy, have we got a lot of catching up to do.”

***

It’s been hours since you woke and every inch of your body aches and pulls. Bruises are already starting to blemish your skin, scratches pucker down your arms and legs as they slowly congeal shut, your asshole is raw and your pussy throbs with the weight of Sam’s cock violently thrusting in and out of it.

Sam sits between your thighs, holding your legs as wide as they can go while he fucks into you, his steel grip pinched around your ankles. You feel so limp, desperate to sleep some of the pain away but you know neither of them are nowhere near done. If anything, they’ve become more ruthless in the past five months - willing to break you over and over until you’re practically unconscious.

Dean watches you from above your head, knife twirling between his finger tips, blood staining the blade. Your cuts and nicks smart, remembering feel of it tearing open the skin. He always did love watching you bleed.

Dean’s smiling as tiny whimpers continue to slip past your lips, your body minutes away from coming. He slowly drops the knife as his fingers tease over a welt just above your left nipple before bending double above you, his lips grazing your ear delicately.

“You still take Sammy so well baby girl, that tight little pussy sucking him in like you actually want it. And you do want it dontcha slut?”

You hate that Sam feels so good inside you. You hate that you ache to have him pound you so hard you bruise for days. You hate that you never come so fucking good except when your brothers are nailing you.

“You gonna come again for us?” Dean orders.

“I—I can’t,” you stammer before hurriedly correcting yourself. “I—fuck, I don’t know— if I can.”

You’ve lost count of the orgasms you’ve had at their demand - “making up for lost time” Dean had said while you unravelled again over his shaft as he fucked you from behind.

“No. You will.” Dean sharply slaps your clit with his hand.

“Fuck!” You yell, hips bucking. Your legs try to involuntarily close but Sam has your ankles gripped too tight. Dean notices you struggling and slaps you again, this time a little harder.

“Try to close those pretty little legs again princess and you can be damn sure I’ll be tying your ankles to opposite ends of that fuckin’ headboard.” Dean warns. He only has to graze your clit before the coil snaps and you’re coming thick and fast over Sam’s cock, slick gushing out over his balls like a damn waterfall.

“Shit, I’ve missed watching you fuckin’ squirt like that.” Dean praises, bringing his fingers to your lips, wet oozing into your mouth. You’ve had the tang of your cunt on your tongue for hours, the boys making sure that every time you come, you taste just how much you enjoy being fucked by them.

Sam comes inside you for the third time, his hot cum dribbling from you as he pulls out. Dean pushes your head up, holding it still as Sam kneels over you, shoving his soaked dick to the back of your throat and literally fucks your mouth until you’re suffocating around his girth.

“That fucking mouth,” Sam growls deeply. “So fucking good.” He drags his dick out as his erection slowly deflates and gives your cheek a little patronising slap. “Our well behaved little sister. Only taken ya six hours.”

“Ple—ase,” you beg through each heavy breath as Dean lets your head drop back to the mattress. “No more.”

Sam moves back as Dean forces you over onto your front, propped up onto your knees. You’re face to face with ebony eyes and a snarl so wicked, you wish the words had never left your lips. The demon’s hand curls its way around your throat, sealing off your airway.

“No more? No more?” His voice deepens. “I say when you’ve had enough princess and correct me if I’m fuckin’ wrong but you’ve not had nearly enough.” He pushes your head down between his thighs, mouth impaled on his swollen cock.

“Take it all slut.” Dean commands, lifting his hips to meet your mouth. You try but your throat is so raw - every piston of his hips, every time his flares head hits your tonsils makes tears stream down your cheeks. You feel a slap to the back of the head.

“I said all of it.”

He manipulates your head down until your nose is muzzled against the patch of soft hair. You can’t breath as he holds you there, gasping for gulp after gulp of air when he pulls you off his cock by a fistful of matted hair.

***

They let you sleep for an hour or two before waking you again, Dean’s head pressed firmly between your thighs, licking and coaxing another orgasm from your spent pussy. You have no idea how you can possibly climax so much but your brothers know your body that well, it’s no longer a matter of trying to get you to come but how many times.

Sam holds you steady, your back pressed against his chest as he lays beneath you, cock buried deep in your ass and Dean’s moved in front of you fucking into your ruined cunt - obscene squelches echoing round the room every time he thrusts back in. You feel like you’re going to pass out at any moment but the boys have ways of keep you awake - another hard slap to your cheek, one more pinch to your sore nipples - anything that resonates pain. Anything that makes you squeeze and clamp a little harder.

They both come almost simultaneously, stuffing you to the brim with hot sticky goo. You fracture into a million pieces, going limp under the weight of your release against Sam’s chest and he holds your floppy body until they’ve both ridden you till they’re empty.

It’s not till they pull out - letting you crumple to the mattress in a sweaty, bloody heap - that they finally let you sleep till morning.

***

Neither of them are in sight when you wake up, sunlight blaring in through the dirty windows. You’ve no idea what time it is - your watch broken in the struggle outside the grocery store and your phone met the heel of Sam’s boot minutes into arriving here. It feels like days have passed since Dean grabbed you.

Rubbing at your eyes, you stretch out despite how wrecked your body feels - every muscle, limb and extremity screaming out in agony. You roll onto your side just as the both of them come into view.

“Y/N, why’d ya have to run?” Dean soothes as they approach the bed. Instead of shrinking away, you smirk and pull yourself up to your knees in front of them. You may hurt all over - barely able to open your legs - but it’s worth it for the looks of pride on their faces.

“I thought you liked playing cat and mouse.” You reply softly. Your hands trace down the fronts of their chests delicately as they begin to caress your bruised and broken skin.

“Yeah, but five months?” Sam asks, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear as you stare across his shoulder towards Dean. His eyes are nothing but pure black.

“What can I say? You must both be losing your touch.”