Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You look down at your phone again in aggravation, seeing that he still hasn’t texted you back. You think about trying to call him, but that looks so desperate, doesn’t it? Calling someone you’ve never even met properly before to see if they’re still coming to meet you, when they’re already an hour late and they aren’t answering your text or the message you sent on the dating app, definitely screams crazy or clingy. And you’re not crazy or clingy, but you are a little desperate if you’re being totally honest with yourself. 

It’s been two months to the day since the last time you had sex, and you’re unbelievably pent up. You really didn’t care if tonight had gone well enough to turn into some kind of relationship, all you had been looking for was a good hard fuck. This guy – DJ – had seemed good for that, particularly after you’d exchanged some teasing messages about the direction you had hoped your date would go in. Maybe that was the problem? Had you been too forward, seemed too easy? 

Well fuck that, you think to yourself in frustration. Girls are allowed to want sex just as much as guys, if DJ can’t handle that then he isn’t what you were looking for anyways. But that does still leave you in your predicament of being horny and too hopelessly single to fix that. 

You look up from your phone and scan the bar, hoping to spot someone that may be able to help you out on that count, but you give up before your eyes even make it halfway around the room. What would the point be if you did see someone attractive? You don’t know how to pick up guys in bars, you’ve never done it successfully before, at least. That’s why you’d gone the dating app route, you could get more comfortable behind a screen first, be more yourself. You should just cut your losses and go home now, before you spend too much on the overpriced alcohol at this place. 

As you dejectedly tug open your purse to shove your phone inside and grab your wallet to pay for the three drinks you’ve already had, another drink lands in front of you. It’s not what you’ve been drinking tonight; this new drink looks far fancier, with delicate foam floating on top of ruby red liquid, curls of orange and lemon peel adorning the centre, along with a small pink flower. 

“Oh, uh, sorry,” you look up at the bartender awkwardly, pushing it back in her direction. “I didn’t order that.” 

“No, I know,” the woman, about your age you think, smiles sweetly and nudges the cocktail back in your direction. “I was told to tell you it’s from a secret admirer ,” she grinned, giving you a conspiratorial wink. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you scoff, looking around the bar to see if anyone is looking over at you, watching to see how you react to their gift, but no one seems to be paying you any mind. 

“Why, sugar? You’re cute as a button,” the bartender brushes away your scepticism with a wave of her hand. “And if you don’t mind me sayin’, your mystery man is pretty cute too. I’d definitely go for it.” She pushes the drink closer to you once again, and you eye it suspiciously. 

“It’s not spiked or something, is it?” 

“No, cross my heart,” the woman holds up her hand as if swearing on the bible. “He ordered it but I’m still the one that made it, sweetie. It’s safe,” she smiles in sympathetic understanding, and you trust what she’s saying. 

“What is it?” you ask, twirling the coupé glass on the cocktail napkin delicately and watching the drink swirl beneath its foam. 

“It’s a kind of whiskey sour, but with some special extras,” the bartender explains. “Mystery man was very particular. Said he just knew you’d like it.” 

You quirk a brow suspiciously. You haven’t really tried any whiskey cocktails, not being a huge fan of the smoky alcohol, but you raise the glass to your lips and take a hesitant sip. To your surprise, the taste is actually quite bright and pleasant, more fruity and citrusy than anything else. Apparently your secret admirer knew a thing or two about drinks. That’s not a bad thing to have in a date, you suppose, but a face and a name would be even better. 

Your secret admirer plies you with several more cocktails, each one a different colour and taste, but all of them unbelievably good, despite whiskey being the main alcohol in all of them. When a large shot glass lands in front of you, you roll your eyes in exasperation. You’ve barely just finished your last drink, is this guy seriously trying to get you blackout drunk? Maybe that’s his alternative to roofies, you realise with a pang of annoyance. It is probably really stupid of you to continue to sit here accepting drinks from a stranger, even if you feel a warm glow from the flattering attention you’ve felt every time a new drink appeared in front of you the past hour and a half. 

“Tammy, I think I need to cut this guy off,” you laugh, looking up at the newest drink expecting to see the bartender grinning at you like she had the whole evening, but there’s no one on the other side of the bar. Someone beside you clears their throat and a decidedly male hand slides the shot closer to you. Your eyes snap to the man beside you in shock, and your breath is momentarily knocked from your lungs. 

Tammy hadn’t been lying, your secret admirer – if that’s who this is – is cute. Fuck, that’s an understatement. This guy is drop-dead gorgeous. Bright green eyes twinkle down at you, freckled cheeks pull up in a cocky smile, full, pink lips curl into a smirk. 

“Now what is a girl like you doin’ in a place like this?” he asks in a sultry voice. He’s clearly pitching it deeper than his usual tone, in an attempt to sound more sexy, but you have to admit it is absolutely working for him. 

Your brain has basically short-circuited for a moment as you stare at him while he confidently gives you a once over, his eyes lingering on the bare skin of your legs showing, and the cleavage you’d intentionally displayed with a low cut top in preparation for your date. Usually, some stranger checking you out so blatantly would make you incredibly uncomfortable, but tonight you’re horny, you’re drunk, you’re pissed off at DJ for standing you up, and you’re staring at the perfect opportunity to get back at him. 

The man raises a brow at you hesitantly, and you realise you’ve just been staring at him silently, not answering his question. 

“Well,” you stutter, trying to think of something clever to say but coming up blank. “I’ve been enjoying some lovely cocktails from a very kind benefactor after my date stood me up.” 

“Who on earth could stand up an angel like you?” he asks, genuinely taken aback, and you feel yourself flush under the flattery, shrugging a little in embarrassment. 

“Apparently someone who wasn’t looking for a good time, I promised him sex and everything,” you smile sheepishly, unsure why you’re being so open when you’re nervous that’s what had scared the last guy away, but here you are. Probably all the alcohol you’ve had, you suppose. 

“Well that guy is clearly an idiot, then,” your mystery man steps closer and leans against the bar, continuing to look over your body. “But his loss is my gain, at least” –for the first time he looks a little nervous, meeting your eyes with a look of longing rather than overt confidence– “I hope it’s my gain.” 

You pretend to consider for a moment, but your mind is already made up. Something in his eyes makes you feel at ease, he’s acting as if he already knows you almost, familiar but in a safe way, rather than an intrusive one. And even if this guy turns out to be a serial killer, you’re pent up enough to take a chance on him.

“C’mon sweetheart, don’t make me beg,” he pouts those full pink lips at you, and you can’t help but giggle. You have a feeling you might like the sound of him begging, but for the moment you put him out of his misery. 

“Do I get your name, or are we keeping this strictly anonymous?” you ask, running your finger idly around the rim of the shot glass still sitting in front of you. 

“The name’s Dean,” he smirks, stepping in close and leaning down so he can whisper in your ear. “And you better remember it, because that’s what I want to have you screaming by the end of the night.” His lips brush the shell of your ear teasingly, and an intense shiver runs through your body, a throbbing heat springing up immediately between your legs. 

“I will hold you to that, Dean ,” you test the name on your tongue and yeah, you could scream that out no problem. You shake your hair over your shoulder and pick up the shot, holding it out between you, and Dean echoes your movement with his own drink, clinking its rim gently against yours.

“Do I get your name, sweetheart?” 

“Y/N,” you smirk up at him. “But if I have my way with you tonight you won’t won’t even remember your own name, let alone mine.” 

“Then here’s to you gettin’ your way tonight, Y/N,” Dean replies huskily, and you both knock back your drinks, eyes never leaving each other’s. “Let’s get tonight started then, shall we?” he holds an arm out to you and you take it, slipping down from your barstool and happily following him out of the bar, glad of the extra support when you realise just how wobbly your legs have become. You’re not sure whether to blame the alcohol or Dean for that.

Dean’s car is almost as gorgeous as he is, and he smiles proudly when you ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ over the classic black beauty. Sliding into the passenger side of the front seat, you decide not to keep a respectable distance, really liking the warmth of his body against yours after your brief excursion through the cold parking lot air. You shiver dramatically as you curl up on the seat against him as your excuse for the continued contact. 

“Someone a little chilly, sweetheart?” he smirks over at you, hands expertly manoeuvring the car backwards out of the parking space while you nod and hum in affirmation. “Well maybe you should have worn a bit more clothing out,” he chides, nudging your bare knee with his own, denim clad one. 

“Oh, are you slut shaming me now?” you shoot back, playfully aghast.

“Why, you into that?” he asks, glancing your way with a straight, curious face, and you burst into giggles. 

“You got a problem with me being a little slutty?” you ask, trailing your fingers teasingly over his thigh. 

“Not at all,” he shakes his head seriously. “You slut it up, baby. Fuck the patriarchy, right?” 

“Are you the patriarchy in this scenario?” you whisper against his ear, skimming your lips over his neck and enjoying the feel of his pulse jumping beneath his skin. You don’t know where your boldness is coming from but something about Dean has made you feel more comfortable than you have in a long time, like he would never judge you for anything. And it seems like he’s enjoying each surprising answer you throw his way. 

“I’ll be anything you want me to be,” he breathes, his words noticeably shaky as he tries to keep his eyes on the road. He’s doing a valiant job, considering your hand has now made its way to his crotch, and you’re pressing your palm lightly into the semi he’s currently got going. 

“I want you to be hard as a rock by the time we get to your motel room,” you answer, quickly unzipping his jeans and pulling out his cock. Without any further discussion, you scooch yourself backwards on the vinyl bench seat to give yourself more room and hungrily suck his cock into your mouth. You moan wantonly, ‘ slutting it up ’ as instructed, and you hear Dean’s faint groan above you. 

“Fucking hell, b– uhrm, Y/N,” he grunts, his hips twitching beneath you as his cock continues to harden in your mouth. You love the feeling of growing harder and thicker against your tongue. You think it’s odd he stopped himself from saying ‘baby’ to say your name instead, but maybe he’s trying to make a point. You pull off his dick with a sucking pop and look up at him from beneath your lashes. 

“I’m gonna have to work a little harder to make you forget my name, huh?” you tease, stroking him lazily while he just tries to keep the car from crashing. 

“You were off to a good start,” he laughs breathlessly, the car slowing down and stopping at a light. He takes a hand off the wheel and places it on the back of your neck possessively, pressing you back down towards his lap. “How about you see how much you can distract me in the next two minutes, because as soon as we’re parked, I’m back in charge baby girl.”

Chapter Text

Dean slams your back against the motel door as soon as it’s closed, his forearms bracketing your head and his hips grinding filthily into yours. 

“Gonna fuck me right here?” you breathe heavily, lips teasingly close to his, chest heaving so your breasts are pressing into Dean’s chest against the t-shirt beneath his open plaid shirt.

“Is that what you want, Y/N ?” Dean drags his lips down the column of your throat as he speaks, his teeth scraping roughly over your skins as he bites out your name, and you think you’ve never liked the sound of your name so much before. You never want him to stop saying it. “You want me to pin you against this door and fuck you so hard it nearly breaks the hinges? You really want everyone walking by to hear what a fucking slut you sound like with my dick inside you?” 

“Are you expecting company?” you ask, suddenly distracted by the fact that there are two beds in this motel room, and both have very clearly been slept in. 

“Huh?” Dean pulls back and looks around curiously. 

“Who’s sleeping in that second bed?” you point between the two of them. 

“My brother,” Dean looks back at you quizzically before answering and stumbling over his words. “But he’s not coming back tonight,” he shakes his head in reassurance, closing you back in against the door. 

“Good,” you breathe in relief, “because I’m not a fan of audiences.” 

“Okay,” Dean blinks, “well, no one here but you and me baby girl. And whoever is walking by outside and hears you screaming,” he chuckles deeply, kissing down your neck again and grabbing your ass in his hands, pulling you against him. 

“You think I’m gonna give it up that easily?” you laugh, trying to sound haughty, but the effect is slightly ruined by your breath catching in your throat as Dean grinds against you once more, the bulge in his jeans dragging roughly between your legs and making you swallow your moan. 

“I thought you told me you were desperate?” he retorts, flashing you a cocky grin that makes you want to mess with him even more.

“You’ve still gotta work for it big boy,” you smirk, grabbing the back of his neck and pushing him down, like he’d done to you in the car, and Dean goes to his knees obediently, still grinning. “Why don’t you show me what else that mouth is good at besides the dirty talking?” 

You let go of Dean and pull up the hem of your skirt, exposing your panties to the man kneeling between your legs. He doesn’t wait for any further instructions, immediately pressing his face into the material and using his teeth to tear the offending item of clothing down your thighs, so he can get to his true target. His tongue teases around your clit for the barest of seconds before he’s diving down further and devouring your cunt. One hand skims up the back of your leg and hoists your knee up and over his shoulder, so he can push in even closer. You groan, dizzy with the pleasure of it all, letting your head thump back into the door behind you. 

“Fuck yes Dean, just like that,” you pant, grinding yourself against his tongue as he kisses back up to your clit, focusing his lips and tongue and teeth on the small bundle of nerves while the hand that’s not holding your leg in place creeps up between your thighs so he can push a finger inside you. “Mmm, fuck yes ,” you sigh, thoroughly enjoying how attentive a lover Dean is proving to be. You’re already beginning to near your orgasm, which you’re sure will only be the first of many.

  “Tell me what you like,” you whisper against Dean’s ear as you straddle his lap on the bed, both of you now blessedly naked. You whimper a little as you press your hips back and the tip of his cock nudges against your entrance. 

“I like girls who get on my dick when I fucking tell them to,” Dean growls against your neck, bucking his hips beneath you so his cock slides through your folds, skating over your clit easily thanks to how slick you are between your legs. You’re surprised he didn’t just slide right in. 

“Oh, so you don’t like my teasing then?” you ask innocently, grinding over his dick, and you can feel the groan of frustration that rumbles through his chest, which is the only warning you get before suddenly Dean has spun you around so your back is on the mattress and he’s the one on top, grinding down into you. 

“You know, for a slut who was so fucking desperate she had to suck me off in the car, you sure have been doing a lotta teasin’,” he smirks when you whimper as his dick pushes lightly against your entrance. “Maybe you don’t want me to fuck you after all?” Dean goes to pull away but you roll your eyes and drag him back down into a kiss. 

“Don’t you dare,” you scold against his lips. “I haven’t had a cock inside me for two fucking months, you’re not going anywhere mister.” 

“Shit, two months? Really sweetheart?” Dean pulls back and looks down at you, like he can’t quite believe it. 

“Even thought about buying one of those fucking machines,” you nod seriously. “Honestly, might still buy one. They look like fun.” 

“Why the hell would you need some mechanical dick when you’ve got the real deal right here , baby girl?” Dean laughs as he pushes in in one quick stroke, drawing a shout of surprise from your lips. “Think a fuck machine can make you feel the same way I do?” he asks, pulling out and fucking back into you sharply, setting up a brutal pace straight out of the gate. 

“Oh god, Dean ,” you mewl, curling into his chest and pulling him down on top of you, so his whole body is grinding along the length of yours as he ruts between your legs. “Fuck, don’t stop.” 

“Yeah, there’s the little slut from the car,” he chuckles darkly, thrusting into you roughly. The headboard is banging out a rhythm on the thin drywall that you’re sure the next room must be able to hear. “Missed you, sweetheart.” 

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” you whimper into his chest, kissing along the freckled skin that you can reach. 

“Better than a goddamn toy, huh baby girl?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, unable to deny it. “But getting one could still be fun. What if I wanted two cocks at once? Can you do that, Dean?” He pulls back onto his knees and sits up straight, wrapping your legs around his waist as he slows his pace to a teasing, grinding slide. 

“Two at once, huh?” he raises a brow at you curiously. “You want something in that slutty little mouth to suck on?” 

“Uh uh,” you shake your head, eyes squeezing closed as Dean angles his hips a little differently and skims over that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Want something else fucking my ass,” you admit, groaning a bit in arousal at the idea, but also a bit in embarrassment. You’ve never told anyone that, but if this guy’s just a one night stand, what’s the harm; right? Dean stops thrusting suddenly, eyes looking down at you wide as saucers. You gulp nervously, hoping you haven’t ruined this. You’ll be so fucking pissed if that’s scared him off. 

“That’s new,” he says after a moment, but it looks like he’s not disgusted by the idea, at least. 

“Is that okay?” you ask hesitantly, biting your lip in apprehension. 

“Well,” Dean smirks, leaning back down and dropping small kisses across your chest, working his hands under your ass to squeeze it enthusiastically. “I don’t exactly have a fucking machine in the car or anything, we didn’t even bring any toys with us this time” –he licks across one of your nipples, then pulls it into your mouth– “but I’ve got two perfectly good sets of fingers.”

A small part of your brain registers that Dean had mentioned ‘bringing toys along this time’, which seems to indicate that there were other times that he and his brother did take trips with sex toys packed in the trunk of their car, but that train of thought is quickly derailed by what Dean is doing to your body. You squeal a little when a fingertip skims across your puckered hole teasingly, even though you’d been expecting it, but he hasn’t quite got the pressure right, so it just tickles more than anything else. 

“I think you might need some kind of lube if you actually want to go there,” you shiver, looking up at Dean hopefully. Now that he’s offered, you can’t get the idea out of your head. Smirking, Dean pulls his hands out from underneath you and leans down, teasing his fingertips over your lips delicately before pulling your bottom lip down with his thumb and sliding two fingers into your open mouth. 

“Guess you did want something to suck on after all,” Dean laughs darkly, eyes holding your gaze intently as you continue to swirl your tongue around his fingers. “You better get ‘em nice and wet, because this is all the lube you’re gettin’, sweetheart. Somethin’ tells me if you want a fucking machine pounding you back there, you actually like a bit of pain… amiright?” 

“Mmhmm,” you whimper around his fingers, feeling yourself flush heavily under such intense scrutiny. 

“Well, we can definitely work with that Y/N,” Dean pulls his fingers from your mouth, dripping wetly onto your lips. “Thanks for telling me,” he whispers, giving you a short, sweet kiss. But he doesn’t give you a chance to answer before suddenly his cock is leaving you and he’s flipped you onto your stomach and pulled you up on your hands and knees. 

“This what you were after, baby girl?” You can hear the smirk in his voice as Dean runs his wet fingers down cleft between your cheeks, stopping to circle lightly around your puckered entrance. 

“ Inside , baby, please,” you whine, pushing your hips back into his fingers, desperate to feel him inside of you. 

“You greedy little thing,” he teases, fitting just the tip of one finger inside of you, and you groan when he won’t push in any farther. 

“Ugh, this is why I need a fucking machine,” you complain, still trying to fuck yourself back onto Dean’s finger with no luck. “Machine wouldn’t fucking tease me like this, just pound me until I can’t see straight.” 

You gasp in pain as a harsh smack lands over your pussy, smarting the skin. 

“Stop being a fucking brat Y/N, or I can just go finish myself off in the shower without you,” Dean growls threateningly, but you just laugh. 

“Yeah right, I know you’re dying to get your dick wet again. Just fuck me already, Dean. C’mon . Thought you were gonna make me scream your name by the end of the night?” 

That was absolutely the right thing to say, because in the next instant Dean withdraws his fingers, spits onto you for extra lubrication, then works both inside together without any more warning or prep. You drop your head into a pillow, moaning loudly beneath the pressure of his fingers fucking your ass. It’s just a tiny bit painful, the stretch of his fingers is wide than your own, which is all you’re used to using, but the sharp edge of discomfort lights the rest of your nerves on fire, and when Dean pushes his cock back inside your dripping pussy your senses are awash with only pleasure. 

“Oh my fucking god, yes!” And you are screaming now, just like he’d promised. “Fuck Dean, feels so fucking good, oh my god ,” you’re practically sobbing into the bed, fucking yourself back onto his hand and his cock as he stuffs you full with each thrust. 

“Yeah, who needs a fuck machine now, huh?” he grunts heavily, bending forward to grab your hair and yank your head up and back, using his grip as leverage as he fucks you. “Wanna hear you fuckin’ scream when you cum for me Y/N, you got that? Want everyone to hear what a goddamn slut you are for me.” 

You nod, whining in pleasure, your breath heaving in your chest, getting caught up in your throat. 

“What do you fuckin’ say slut?” Dean growls in your ear, scissoring the fingers in your ass to stretch you wider as he forces you back onto his cock. 

“Gonna cum, Dean,” you manage to choke out. “Oh my god, make me cum, please… Dean, fuck… Dean !”

“That’s a good slut, let it all out baby, good girl,” he hisses, fucking your through your orgasm as you clench and spasm around him, your screams turning to whimpers, and eventually to silence as every muscle in your body freezes up, before a fresh wave of pleasure makes you melt down into the bed. 

Dean pulls out and rolls you over roughly, your arms flinging limply like a ragdoll as you lay in your post-orgasmic stupor. He climbs forward, straddling your chest and jerking himself off hurriedly. Cum shoots across your face as Dean groans in relief, throwing his head back while he pumps his finish over your skin, tapping the head of his cock against your cheek and running it down to your lips where he thrusts against you lightly as the last vestiges of his release drop onto your tongue.

  You wake up slowly, peacefully, and far too warm. You also realise you can’t move, which is entirely due to the arm and leg flung across your body pinning you to the mattress. Turning to the side, you see Dean snoring lightly, a look of peaceful oblivion on his freckled face. You smile lightly at the sight. You’d expected to be asked to leave after you two had finished for the night, but surprisingly, Dean had snuggled right up to you and basically fallen straight to sleep. You’d indulged yourself in the novelty of spending the night with someone else, since you weren’t sure when it might happen again. 

Sighing heavily, you carefully try to extract yourself without waking Dean so you can get to the bathroom, but you have no such luck. He blinks awake as soon as you roll out of his embrace, looking up at you in grumpy confusion. 

“Where ya goin’?” he asks with a hefty yawn. 

You point to the bathroom in the corner by way of explanation and he nods, laying back down and burrowing into his pillow. Stealing some mouthwash to freshen up, you notice the toiletries bag on the counter has some distinctly feminine products in it – conditioner, hairbrush, hair ties, purple toothbrush, things that didn’t seem like they would belong to Dean – making you feel uneasy. He did say he was sharing the room with his brother, you suppose those could be his. 

Reemerging from the bathroom a few minutes later, you notice Dean is up and out of bed, and making coffee at the little kitchenette in the opposite corner of the room. 

“Morning, gorgeous,” he smiles when he turns around, kissing you on the cheek familiarly as he hands you a cup of coffee. You notice there’s no milk in it, which makes you grimace slightly as you take a sip, but your post-night out headache is starting to make itself known, and you need the caffeine more than you need it to taste good. “Coffee okay?” Dean asks, clearly noticing your expression, and you quickly school it into a smile, not wanting to be rude. 

“Oh yeah, just hot,” you excuse and he gives you an understanding nod. 

“Sooo…” Dean draws out the word like he’s about to come on to an awkward topic and you sigh heavily. Here comes the ‘nice to meet you, but I don’t want your number’ speech. You’d foolishly let yourself hope, after he’d let you stay and you’d woken up cuddling, and then the coffee and the small kisses… it had seemed like maybe he might have wanted to see you again. But you suppose you haven’t earned that much good karma in your life. No one is that good at sex and into committed relationships. 

“Last night was…” he continues to speak, breaking you out of your thoughts, but he seems a bit lost for words. 

“It was really great,” you smile, a little sadly. “For me, at least,” you add awkwardly. 

“Uh, yeah ,” Dean nods emphatically. “I had no idea you were into that kind of stuff, but I mean, I’m glad you told me, just wish you’d said something sooner.” 

“Sooner?” You giggle into your coffee, braving another sip of the bitter liquid. “How much sooner did you want me to bring it up? In the bar? That would have been a hell of a pick up line: thanks for the drinks, wanna fuck me in the ass after a couple more?” 

Dean snorts a little and rolls his eyes in exasperation, shaking his head. 

“I thought the secret admirer move was a good one though,” he gives himself an approving pout and you laugh. 

“Well it got me to come home with you, didn’t it? And it was a much better night than the one I’d originally planned, so,” you shrug. 

“Yeah, you really went all out last night,” Dean said, taking another gulp of coffee. “I mean, you had so many details, and this whole persona, you really committed. Where’d you even come up with all of that?” 

You’re staring at Dean in utter confusion now. Huh ?

“What do you mean?” You ask slowly, completely thrown off track. 

“You know–” Dean’s answer is cut off by the door to the motel room opening, and a man with long chestnut hair, wearing a plaid shirt just like Dean, steps inside. You breathe a sigh of relief: okay, the hair stuff must have been his brother’s after all. The man looks up at you curiously when he turns around and sees you, and you give him an awkward wave, internally thanking God you’d thrown a shirt and your panties on before you’d gone to the bathroom. 

“How’d you get in here?” The man asks, confusion evident in his ruffled brow, and you frown slightly. 

“Um, the door,” you point behind him to where he’d just entered. There was something very weird bristling in the atmosphere between the three of you. 

“But I just left you outside in reception a minute ago, you couldn’t have beat me here,” the brother looks at you suspiciously. 

“Sammy, what are you talking about? She’s been in here with me all night,” Dean looks at his brother in mild concern, like maybe the man isn’t well. 

“No, Dean. She’s been out with me all night. We were trying to call you for ages but your phones were off, so we just got on with the hunt on our own,” Sam protests, suddenly producing a gun from behind him and aiming it straight at you.

“What the hell?!” you shout, putting up your hands and dropping your coffee. You suddenly notice that Sam has dark stains on the sleeves of his red plaid shirt that look suspiciously like blood, and you feel like you’re going to be sick. 

“Woah woah woah, dude, calm down. It’s her, I swear. Don’t you think I would know? I was the one fucking her all night!” 

“What the fuck is going on!” You demand, still staring at the gun Dean’s brother is aiming at your chest. 

The door to the room opens once again, and someone you never could have expected steps through. 

“Bayley?!” you shout incredulously, just as the newcomer shouts: “Y/N!”  

The two men look between you in alarm, and Dean produces his own gun from beneath the mattress that you’d been sleeping on the night before. 

“Wait! Stow the firearms guys, calm down,” Bayley hisses, stepping in the middle of everyone and forcing the boys to put their guns down, though they do it reluctantly. You’re still frozen in shock, watching the scene unfold before you. Bayley twists around and gives you a sheepish smile before looking back at the stoic men. 

“So, I never told you guys I have a twin, did I?” your sister asks hesitantly, holding back a nervous giggle that you haven’t heard in years. 

Dean looks like he’s going to be sick.

“Oh my god,” you groan as you suddenly realise what’s happened, what Dean was talking about when he was going on about a persona earlier. He thought you had been role playing. He thought you were Bayley . You’ve just fucked your sister’s boyfriend. 

There’s a lot of competition for the title, but you think last night is now going down in your dating history as the worst first date ever, as any hope of this turning into more than a one night stand evaporates.

Chapter Text

6 Months Later

“Are you ready?” 

“Mmm, fuck, so ready,” you groan, tossing your head back in pleasure as the toy finally slides inside you on it’s slowest setting. You arch your back even more, pushing your hips into the rod that’s now fucking the dildo in and out of your cunt. Since the machine was delivered at the bunker and you’d set it up in your bedroom – which is essentially just a playroom now, since you never actually sleep in your own bed these days – your boyfriend has barely been able to pull you off the damn thing. It’s just as addicting as you’d imagined; having two cocks inside of you at once. You don’t even care which holes are being filled, so long as you’re getting fucked good and hard. 

You look up at the gorgeous cock that’s hovering mere centimetres out of your reach and whine petulantly, pouting up at the stern faced Winchester looming over you in nothing but an open plaid shirt. 

“Aw, does somebody want something, baby girl?” 

“Please stop teasing me, Daddy. I’ve been so good today,” you bat your lashes pleadingly, though you don’t know how the expression comes across, because the bastard turns up the speed on the machine at the same moment, sending your eyes rolling backwards in your skull a little. “ Fuuucking hell ,” you moan, and you know you’re being too loud – sound carries pretty easily in the bunker – but you can’t find the energy to care about that just now. 

“What’s wrong?” he smirks down at you, stroking himself lazily, and you can’t help licking your lips as you stare at the bead of precum that’s shining on his tip. “I thought you liked teasing?”  

“Daddy please ,” you beg, your pleas cutting off yet again as the machine starts to fuck you even faster. 

“I’m gonna have to put something in your mouth just to shut you up, huh?” Your dom grabs your chin and forces you to look up at him, fixing you with the glare that means he’s not satisfied with your behaviour, and you’re about to pay for that. You swallow heavily, already feeling the ghost of the burn in your throat from the last time he decided he needed to shut you up. The memory alone would be enough to turn you on if you weren’t already dripping for him. Instinctively, you drop your jaw and wait for him to follow through on his threat. 

“Look at you,” he chuckles darkly, sliding a thumb along your bottom lip and into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and making you drool. “My little slut, practically gagging for it, aren’t you baby girl?” he pouts in condescending sympathy, and you feel yourself clench around the toy ploughing into you mercilessly in reaction, nodding eagerly. “Tell me what you are,” he demands coldly. 

“I’m your little slut, Daddy, and Daddy can do whatever he wants to me.”” His thumb is still in your mouth, muffling your words a little, but you answer immediately; this mantra is practically an automatic response after the several months you’ve been dating. 

“That’s right baby girl,” he smiles, finally sliding his cock between your lips and directly down your throat. You gag around him as he begins to fuck your face, loving the burn of being stretched on both ends. “You’re lucky I like stuffing you full of cocks as much as you like being stuffed,” the dom laughs creully, and you whimper in agreement. 

You certainly are lucky, and you fucking know it. 

“Bet you’d take as many cocks as I told you to, wouldn’t you?” He keeps talking, and you flick your eyes up to look at him while he thrusts through your lips. “I could just tie you up with a sign that said ‘free pussy’ and let them line up, and you’d fucking do it because your Daddy told you to, wouldn’t you?” 

You hum wildly, trying to communicate that you would do anything he asked. That might be one of the hottest ideas he’s ever teased you with. You wonder if he would actually want to do something like that. Something tells you it’s more of a fantasy, because Winchesters are pretty fucking territorial based on your experience over the past few months. Even so, it’s a fucking hot fantasy. 

“What if Daddy told you he’s already got someone interested? You’re such a slut you’ve gone and caught someone’s eye. They’re practically begging me for a piece of your cunt,” he groans, his hips beginning to piston faster and faster as he also turns the fuck machine up another notch. Even with your mouth full of his cock, you’re positive anyone currently inside the bunker is able to hear you getting absolutely ruined right now. 

“Does that sound nice, baby girl? Two cocks to fuck you full, instead of having to use that fucking toy you can’t get enough of? Or maybe we still use the toy to keep your mouth busy so we don’t have to listen to your pathetic screams while we split you open on our dicks. What do you think? Or we can find somebody else to occupy that mouth with. Maybe a pretty little pussy – would you lick a pussy if Daddy told you to sweetheart?”

You’ve never really thought about it before, but in this moment you’re ready to agree to anything that comes out of this man’s mouth, just as long as he doesn’t stop fucking you – you can feel how fucking close you are to cumming already. You try to tell him that yes, you would; you would do anything he wants to see you do if that’s what’s going to make him happy or get him off. Hopefully the whining, gurgling sound you make around his cock passes for a ‘ Yes, Daddy .” 

You wonder if he really means it. This scenario he’s describing doesn’t sound quite as fantastical as hanging you up with a sign and letting Lebanon have a free-for-all with your cunt.  The way he’s talking now, it sounds like he actually does have somebody specific in mind. Fuck, being in an actual threesome – or even more than three – would be a dream come true for you. You’ve always fantasised about that, and the man grinning down at you smugly knows it, too. 

“Well, if you cum when Daddy counts down for you, like the good little slut I know you can be, then maybe Daddy will set up a little playdate for you. Would you like that baby girl?” The dom pulls out of your mouth, letting you get your first full breath of air for several minutes, and you choke around the emptiness the same way you’d gagged around his cock when he’d entered you. He kneels down in front of you and picks your head back up, supporting your neck with the firm grip he has around the blood vessels running down each side of your throat. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you finally manage to stutter when you’ve caught your breath, and he smiles at you happily. 

“Good girl,” he sighs, his own voice rougher, full of the grave authority he likes to use every time he gives you a countdown. “Ten,” he smirks, slapping your cheek lightly when your eyes flutter closed as he increases the machine one final time. 

“Nine. Eight.” He counts torturously slow, winding your control tighter and tighter, threatening to make it snap before he reaches zero and you have permission to let go. “Seven… Six… Five…” 

“ Please, Daddy ,” you chance begging, gasping for enough air to make the words and hoping he’s in the mood for it tonight, because you really don’t think you can hold yourself back much longer. It feels like you’ve already started cumming, but it’s just a simmer, the first bubbles creeping to the surface of your composure, almost ready to erupt into a heat that boils over entirely.

“If I let you cum, do you promise to fuck whoever I tell you to?” he grins maliciously, fingertips sinking in deep enough that you know you’ll have bruises. You can’t wait to see them blooming in the mirror tomorrow morning, reminding you who you belong to, if the soreness in every part of your body isn’t enough to make you remember already. You have just enough consciousness to realise that if he’s talking about sharing you, he might be making these bruises on purpose, just to mark his territory. That thought turns you on even more somehow, making you clench around the dildo furiously thrusting into your cunt, making it rub differently over your g-spot and nearly causing you to slip into your orgasm without permission. 

“Please, Daddy,” you sob, tears actually falling through the cage of your lashes. “ Please, I promise! I promise to fuck whoever you tell me to, whoever you want me to, just please let me cum. Pleasepleaseplease –” 

“Five, four, three,” he counts quickly, laughing cruelly when you cry out again as he stops counting. 

“I promise I’ll be a good little slut for your friends, Daddy, please just let me cum. Need to cum so badly, please, fucking please–” At least, that’s what you’re trying to say, but you don’t know how much came out as intelligible words, because you barely have any air left in your lungs and your head is beginning to go fuzzy. 

“Two, one… Now, slut . Cum for Daddy,” he bends down to growl in your ear, releasing your throat and catching you by your shoulders as you collapse, shaking against him as you cum so hard you think you might actually have gone under for a few seconds. 

He pets your hair and kisses your forehead as you relax into his embrace, nuzzling against his chest and breathing in the comforting scent of the plaid shirt he still has on. The brushed cotton is familiar and soothing against your cheek as you smile lazily, thoughts in your head still pleasantly out of focus. 

“Good girl,” he whispers into your hair over and over again, cradling you in his lap. “Did such a good job listening to Daddy, baby girl. So proud of you.” 

You glow brighter and brighter with every murmur of praise, every soft touch and gentle kiss. This part is almost as good as the orgasms are, in your opinion: just being held, and loved, and taken care of. From the very beginning all those months ago, ever since your second date when you’d both realised that you wanted to take this aspect of your relationship further, you’ve always been good at this part for each other. You know that when he tucks you into bed later – his bed, rather than the one here in your room – you’ll be wearing the shirt that you’re cuddling against now, so you have something that smells so rawly of him when he leaves with his brother and your twin sister on a hunt early tomorrow morning. 

He always makes sure to leave you something to sleep with whenever he knows he’ll be spending a night away from the bunker. While you’d taken the stilted explanation that the Winchesters had offered you about their and Bayley’s day jobs in stride, he knows it still scares the shit out of you every time he has to go away. That’s another reason he left marks on you tonight; he likes knowing that when he’s not around, there’s still some sign that you’re spoken for obvious on your body. And honestly the sight of any hickies he leaves behind makes you feel oddly safer in his absence, too. 

“How you feeling, sweetheart?” he asks softly, tilting your face up from his shirt so he can look at you. 

“Good, Daddy,” you smile, still feeling a little blissed out. 

“Is my baby girl tired now?” he smirks knowingly, and you nod, trying to stifle the yawn that pops up when he mentions the idea of sleep. 

“What about you, Daddy?” you ask with feigned innocence, trying to turn in his arms to wiggle a hand down to grab his erection, but he grabs both of your wrists easily in his free hand and stops you. 

“No, you’re done for now baby, Daddy pushed you really hard tonight,” he tells you gently, giving you a comforting squeeze. You feel kinda bad that he hasn't finished, but you also feel a little relieved that he doesn’t want to keep going right now, because the more you think about it, the more tired you start to feel. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you apologise as he helps you to your feet, wrapping you in a heavy blanket before looking around for the sweatpants he’d come into the room wearing. You point them out to him, hanging off the corner of the dresser, and he gives you a grateful smile. 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he shakes his head easily, coming back and scooping you into his arms, giving you another sweet kiss on the forehead that makes your heart melt. “I’m the one that chose not to cum, I could have if I wanted to.” 

“Why didn’t you?” you ask with another yawn as he shoulders open the door and kicks it closed again behind you, starting the short walk through the bunker back to his room. 

“Because,” he smirks, his eyes glinting mischievously, “I’m saving it up for when we get back.” He brushes his lips against your ear and whispers. “You’re gonna be so full of my cum, you’ll be leaking for days.” 

“ Fuck, Daddy, ” you whimper, burying your face into the crook of his neck in embarrassment at how needy your face must look, even though you just came as hard as you ever have. 

“Yeah, I thought you might like that,” he chuckles smugly, kicking open the door to his own room and putting you down on the bed. 

“You always know what I like,” you giggle. “It’s kind of annoying how well you know me, actually.” 

“You love it,” he smirks, not believing you, and you roll your eyes, but you know your smile tells him that he’s right. You do love it. “Speaking of, uhm, things you like,” he clears his throat awkwardly, stripping off his plaid shirting and pulling it onto your outstretched arms. He kneels by the end of the bed and buttons it for you, not looking in your eyes as he continues to speak, but focusing on the buttons. “You, uh, you sounded like you liked what I mentioned earlier. About um, sharing you, I mean.” 

“Oh,” you feel your heart stutter in your chest. You hadn’t expected him to bring it up again so soon. This can only mean that you were right, he wasn’t just fantasising – he has someone in mind. “Yeah, I” –why is it always so much harder to talk about this shit when you’re not fucking– “I did like that. I do, I mean… I think that would be really hot.” You bring your eyes back to his and see relief smoothing out the lines between his brows. 

“Oh, good,” he laughs a little under his breath, probably releasing a bit of nervous tension. “And you did promise me that it could be whoever I wanted, right?” 

“Yeah,” you nod easily. “I trust you. And I know you would never let someone into that part of our lives if you weren’t really sure we could trust them, too.”

“Good,” he smiles, getting up from his knees to give you a small kiss on the lips and manoeuvring you on the bed so he can tuck you under the covers before sliding into the other side and curling himself around you. You both take a moment to settle down and breathe each other in, and you can feel sleep starting to cloud into your thoughts now that you’re tucked up cosily with the man you love. 

“It’s Dean, by the way,” he says over the top of your head. 

“What’s Dean?” you yawn into his bare chest, snuggling into his chest and enjoying the bit of hair that you can feel brushing against your cheek. 

“The one who wants to fuck you,” Sam elaborates, and suddenly you’re wide awake as you pull back to look at him in astonishment. Then he adds with a devilish smirk: “Well, Dean and Bayley.”

Chapter Text

You knock back another shot, then look up to see Bayley doing the same. When she swallows, your eyes meet awkwardly, and you hurriedly look back down to your empty glass on the table and the half full bottle of whiskey next to it, debating the wisdom of having another drink. Your tongue is burning – a combination of the straight alcohol you and your twin have been imbibing for the past half hour or so, and the question that’s been on the tip of your tongue ever since Bayley, Sam ,and Dean had returned from their hunt yesterday. 

You hadn’t seen Dean or Bayley between Sam telling you that he wants you to fuck them, and when they had all left to go after the werewolf that had been spotted a few states over, so you haven’t had a chance to ask how all of this came up in the first place. You haven’t been able to ask your twin sister why she wants to have a foursome with you and her boyfriend’s brother. Her boyfriend who has already fucked you once before.

Why is she okay with it happening again?

The last time, she’d laughed it off; more annoyed that Dean hadn’t been able to tell the difference between the two of you, even if he had thought you were roleplaying, than the fact that he'd fucked you to begin with. But the Bayley you grew up with has never been very good at sharing, so you’re curious as to why she’s suddenly on board with the idea of you and Dean sleeping together again. 

Then there’s the niggling reminder that Sam has been pretty explicit about the fact that he wants you to fuck Dean and Bayley. Is she the one who came up with that idea? Is Dean? Is she okay with that? You are sisters after all, and technically incest is illegal, even if there’s no chance the two of you would have offspring together. You know there’s a market out there for twins in porn, so obviously it happens, but it still just feels… wrong .

Even the thought of kissing Bayley makes you feel flushed, let alone undressing her, or touching her, or ‘ eating her cunt ’ as Sam had so eloquently put it. The more you think about it the more uncomfortably hot you feel, tugging at the collar of the plaid shirt Sam had left behind for you. It still vaguely smells of him, and the scent is comforting at least, but not comforting enough to distract you, so you reach for the whiskey again and pour another measure, barely taking a breath before downing the whole glass. 

“Are you really that nervous about this?” Bayley snorts a little under her breath, and you shoot her a scathing look.

“Are you really not nervous about this?” you shoot back in disbelief. 

“No,” she shrugs casually, and you continue to stare at her, unbelieving. “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t done it before,” she huffs, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

“You’ve slept with Dean and Sam before, like, all together?” you ask in shock, surprised, and a little hurt, that Sam has never thought to mention that to you. 

“Oh, no, not with them,” Bayley shakes her head, long hair flipping wildly in the ponytail she’s pulled it up in. It’s noticeably longer than yours now, she’d started to let hers grow out once it became clear that you would be sticking around for a while – she’d joked that it was mostly for Dean’s benefit, to make sure he didn’t wind up sleeping with the wrong twin a second time.

“I had a threesome with this pair of hunters out in New Mexico that I stayed with for a while,” Bayley elaborates when you stare at her blankly, clearly hoping for more details. “It wasn’t a big deal, it just sort of happened one night. They were married, still are as far as I know, and they were looking for something to spice things up a little. A lot of guys have lesbian fantasies about their wives or girlfriends, you’d be surprised,” she giggles, her eyes twinkling at you mischievously as she takes a calm sip of her whiskey. Your hands shake around your glass as you take in this information. 

“Okay, so, you’ve been with a girl before, sure, but…” you look down at your drink and breathe deeply, trying to get your voice to stop sticking in your throat. “We’re sisters , we’re family . Doesn’t that… I mean... it’s wrong, isn’t it?” 

“Sam and Dean are brothers,” Bayley answers, voice still casual and unconcerned.

“Well yeah,” you allow, “but they’re not planning on doing anything together , right? Sam told me he wants me to… well me and you to–” you break off, unable to articulate the things Sam had whispered in your ear this morning while he was fucking you into the mattress, telling you how much he was looking forward to tonight. In the moment it had been really fucking hot, but now, faced with the reality of your twin sister sitting opposite you, it's terrifyingly real. 

“Yeah, Dean said the same thing to me,” Bayley snorts a little, laughing under her breath. “He’s got a thing about twins, apparently,” she smirks. “Ever since he slept with you he hasn’t shut up about how hot we would be together.” 

“He… has a thing for twins?” you ask sceptically. You’re pretty kinky, but that isn’t a fetish you’ve run into before, even on the vast playing field of the internet.

“Honestly, I think that’s another pretty common fantasy for guys,” Bayley shrugs. “And that’s what I mean, Sam won’t think it’s weird, Dean clearly doesn’t think it’s weird, I’m not weirded out by it; it’ll be fine.” 

“If you say so,” you smile unconvincingly and take another sip of your drink. 

“Oh and if you think Sam and Dean won’t be doing anything ‘together’ as you say, think again. There’s no way I’m letting them get off on us doing it without them returning the favour,” your sister smiles wickedly and you nearly choke on your whiskey. “C’mon, don’t be a prude, because I know you’re not,” Bayley rolls her eyes. “Think about how fucking hot they’d look together. You’ve already slept with both of them, so I bet you can picture it even better than I can.”

You feel your cheeks colour as the image springs into your mind’s eye, impossible not to imagine now that Bayley’s instructed you to so blatantly. You think about how Sam’s dominance would translate if it was his brother he was sleeping with, instead of you. Dean is older, and you had definitely let him play up his dominant side the one time you’d slept together, but that was the difference: you’d let him be more dominant. With Sam it had never even been a question which of you was in charge; with Dean, there had definitely been some push and pull. You picture Sam towering over his elder brother, that dark, hungry glint in his eyes as he rakes his gaze up and down Dean’s body appraisingly. In your head Dean looks smaller and softer compared to Sam, apprehensive… submissive . 

“Ha! Knew you’d be into that,” Bayley laughs sharply, shaking you from your thoughts. You awkwardly clear your throat and stare with determination at your once-again-empty glass, willing the flush you can still feel painting your skin to recede. “So if you’re getting all hot and bothered thinking about our boyfriends fucking, then you can’t really complain about them wanting to see us fuck – can you?” Your sister smirks triumphantly, and you have to admit she’s got you there. It is pretty hypocritical to get turned on by the thought of Sam and Dean together and then freak out about incest when it’s you and Bayley. 

“Okay, fine, so I forget the fact you’re my twin,” you huff, not immune to the dislike of admitting your sibling is making more sense than you are. “You’re still a girl, and I’m allowed to be nervous about sleeping with a girl for the first time. And having a foursome for the first time,” you point out. “So, stop making faces every time I pour a drink,” you snipe, leaning over the table and stealing the bottle of whiskey back from her side to refill your glass. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Bayley rolls her eyes, leaning in before you can pull back with the liquor and twisting her hand in your t-shirt, tugging you forward and pressing her lips smoothly against yours. 

You’re frozen, eyes wide open, staring at your sister’s eyelashes in much closer proximity than you ever had before, and your lips may as well be stone for all of the response Bayley is getting from them. A few moments later she pulls back decisively with a ludicrous smacking noise, like the kind you make when you kiss a baby or a dog, and plonks herself back in the crappy motel chair with a satisfied smirk on her face. 

“There. Now you’ve kissed a girl,” Bayley grins. You’re still immobilised, hand grasped loosely around the neck of the whiskey bottle, and you’re contemplating downing the whole damn thing.  

“Well, don’t stop on our account, sweetheart,” Dean’s voice fills the room, and you and Bayley both look around in surprise to see the Winchesters framed in the doorway to your motel room. You hadn’t heard them come in, presumably because while Bayley’s lips were on yours, your ears had been filled with a muffled rushing buzz of incredulity, and you’d tuned out anything and everything else. 

“Hi,” you try to sound casual, but your voice comes out as an embarrassing squeak. You can see Sam trying to contain his smirk diplomatically, but Dean makes no such efforts, grinning obnoxiously at you and your sister as he strides into the room. Sam follows, shutting the door and locking it behind him before depositing the duffle bag he’s carrying by the side of the bed. Your eyes are drawn to it immediately, recognising the bag that your dom uses to store sex toys on the rare occasions that you go out on the road with him. He smirks knowingly when he sees you looking and throws you a seductive wink that fills your belly with butterflies. 

“Hey, baby girl,” Sam hums as he circles around behind you, pulling you back into his chest as he wraps an arm around your shoulders and drops a kiss to the back of your head. 

“Hi, Sam,” you whisper, snuggling back into the comfort of his embrace and letting it calm your nerves. 

“Excuse me?” His voice hardens, cutting sharply across the tension that’s growing palpably in the room, and you gulp, knowing your mistake instantly but hesitant to correct it. “Are you gonna try that again?” Sam whispers loudly against your ear, and from the looks on Dean and Bayley’s faces you know they can hear him. 

“Hi, Daddy,” you answer meekly, casting your eyes at the floor so you don’t have to see Dean smirking lewdly at you. 

“Better,” Sam commends you, squeezing you against him in reassurance. “Now, I think when we arrived, we interrupted you and Bay getting this show on the road. How ‘bout we get back to that…?” he trails off, and you can practically feel the anticipation in the room humming through the musty, humid air that’s encompassing the four of you. 

“Maybe you can actually try kissing me back this time,” Bayley chides with a teasing smile, and you glare at her in annoyance. You don’t need her embarrassing you in front of Sam and Dean, you’re more than likely to handle that just fine on your own. 

She’s walking towards you now, hips swaying seductively for Dean’s benefit – you can see him watching her ass as she struts across the room with a sly, teasing smile. Your sister stops directly in front of you, and you start to look over your shoulder towards Sam for an indication of what he wants you to do, but he grabs your chin and forces your head back around. 

“You know what we want to see, baby girl,” Sam states evenly, his voice moving towards the cold, haughty tone it takes on when he gets into his dom headspace; the voice that always sends shivers down your spine in the best way possible. “And I know my little slut can put on a show, so show Dean and Bay what a good girl you are for your Daddy, okay?” The threat is there behind his words: don’t be a brat, don’t embarrass me . Sam expects your complete and utter submission tonight, and as he presses against the back of your head so your lips are sliding against Bayley’s, you can’t help but bend to his will and melt into your sister’s kiss. 

The kissing swiftly transforms into making out, but the sensation is unlike any you’ve ever experienced before, because there’s three pairs of hands groping your body and two pairs of lips fighting for dominance over yours. Dean, evidently, wasn’t happy just watching the show, he wants to be in the thick of the action. Somehow the four of you end up tumbling onto the bed together with only minimal bodily harm but with an abundance of giggling from Bayley. 

“Okay, funny girl,” Dean reaches out and hauls Bayley backwards, spooning her in the curves of his body as his hands roam over hers, tugging impatiently at her clothing. “I’ll give you something to laugh about,” he growls playfully when he gets her top off and goes straight for her chest, pulling down the cups of her bra and putting her bare skin on display for you and Sam. Bayley hums happily as Dean begins to play with her breasts; massaging them smoothly, one in each hand, twisting and pinching at her nipples lightly. 

“Watch them, baby girl,” Sam instructs you, but he didn’t need to: you can’t take your eyes off of them. “You remember what those hands feel like on your body?” His breath ghosts across the skin of your neck, raising goosebumps in its wake. “Is that what Dean did to you that night? Did you make those cute little hums Bay’s makin’? Or were you whining like the desperate little slut you are, huh?” 

“Oh she was definitely whinin’,” Dean answers for you, smirking at you and Sam over Bayley’s shoulder while he continues to toy with her body. “Shoulda heard her little brother. Oh Dean, fuck yes, just like that, oh god! ” 

He puts on a high, simpering voice in imitation of you, and you want to sink through the bed and be swallowed up by the ugly tan blankets covering it, but part of you is also inexplicably turned on by Dean making fun of you the way he is; talking to his brother as if you aren’t even there, like he’s recounting your one night stand to his buddies in the locker room the next day – if Dean played sports… or had buddies. You somehow can’t imagine him regaling Castiel with explicit details of his sexual exploits, and the Winchesters don’t really have any other ‘friends’ as it were. 

“Y/N!” The sound of your name snaps you out of your head and back to the present moment. You hate how your mind just wanders off like that sometimes, infallibly at an inappropriate moment. “You getting inside that pretty little head’a’yours?” Sam asks, and his words sound like a taunt, but you know it’s more than that. That’s one of the things he asks when he checks in with you during a scene, wanting to know how you’re feeling without breaking character; it gives you an out if you need it, but doesn’t ruin the mood if you’re still happy to continue. 

“Sorry Daddy,” you apologise, turning in his arms so you’re on your back on the mattress and Sam is looming over you, balanced on his hands. “I think I need something more… distracting,” you look up at him hopefully, and he answers you with a smirk of his own. 

“I think that can be arranged,” he grins. “How about you get these clothes off for me, and then help Dean get his off, ‘kay?”

As you undress, Sam reaches across the bed towards your sister and starts unbuttoning her jeans while Dean unhooks her bra for her. When she’s naked, Sam pulls her up the bed and arranges her how he wants, so she’s reclining against a pile of pillows. Your eyes are drawn to her as Sam pushes her legs wide open, and you can’t help staring at the bare flesh that looks so like your own. It’s weird ; it’s almost like watching a porno of Sam and Dean and yourself, except you have no memory of what’s being done to the body that looks identical to yours. 

“Y/N, Dean still needs help with his jeans,” Sam reminds you when he notices that you’ve finished undressing. He stands to start taking off his own clothes and watches you closely as you move towards his brother, reaching out to unfasten his pants before you hear the disappointed click of Sam’s tongue. “You know better than that, baby girl, c’mon. What happened to your manners?” 

You look away in embarrassment at messing up such a simple rule, one that’s practically instinct when you’re with Sam, but seems so unfamiliar now. Dropping to your knees in front of Dean, you lean in and nuzzle against his hip, running your lips over the obvious bulge that his cock is making in his jeans, enjoying the warmth that’s seeping through the worn-soft denim. You find what you think is the head of his cock and you seal your lips around it, sucking eagerly, and Dean’s answering groans and hands in your hair tell you that you’ve found the right spot. After one more moment of teasing, you drag your lips up to the button of his jeans and suck that into your mouth instead, using your tongue to push the button back through the hole in the fabric, then grabbing the top of his zipper between your teeth and tugging it down, looking up through your lashes while you do, just how Sam trained you to. 

“Holy shit,” Dean swears, carding his fingers through your hair as he pulls you back in to suck on his cock through his briefs, his face a mixture of awe and hunger as he watches you obey. “Bay, take notes, because this is how you’re gonna be undressing me from now on,” he smirks over his shoulder, and you hear your sister giggle. 

“Not a chance, baby, you’ll have to use Y/N if you want some kind of sex slave,” Bayley laughs derisively. Her words should make you angry, dismissive and degrading as they are, but instead they send a shock of excitement to your core. You wonder if Sam would let Dean ‘use you’, as Bayley had so bluntly put it, and deep down, you hope the answer is yes. 

“Told ya she was a brat,” Dean grunts, swivelling his head around to speak to Sam, and you hear your dom’s deep, unimpressed laughter. 

“That’s because she’s craving a stronger hand, aren’t you Bay?” Sam asks, and you hear the squeak of bedsprings that means he’s climbing back onto the mattress of the one king sized bed this room houses. “You need someone who can make you behave, don’t you sweetheart?” You can just imagine the smug look Sam must be turning Bayley’s way, and if she’s anything like you at all, she’ll be melting under it right about now. “Get your asses over here you two, and you, keep those legs spread, let me see that pretty little pussy.”

Chapter Text

Dean hauls you to your feet and shoves you towards the bed unceremoniously, pushing down his boxers as he stumbles behind you before sitting at the head of the bed. 

“Lay down right here next to me, baby girl,” Sam pats the bed between your sister’s legs, and you slide into place, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Closer, c’mon now,” your dom orders, smacking your ass to urge you up the bed so your lips are practically touching Bayley’s evidently dripping pussy. Christ you can even smell how aroused she is, and suddenly you understand what Sam means every time he’s buried his head between your legs and told you that you smell so sweet. You’ve always thought he was just saying that to say it, just dirty talking, but now you see that he’s only been telling the truth. You wonder if Bayley will taste the way Sam always says you taste, too. 

“What do I do, Daddy?” you turn to Sam, mind suddenly empty of any idea of how to start. 

“Want you to copy everything Daddy does, ‘kay sweetheart?” He smiles at you seductively and you nod in agreement, laying your head against Bayley’s thigh to watch him closely.

Sam leans forward slowly, dragging his face along Bayley’s other thigh and breathing through his mouth, something you know tickles like crazy because of his stubble and shoulder length hair but also massively elevates the anticipation of finally feeling his lips where they’re desired most. He blows a gentle stream of air across her skin, and you see Bayley shudder, the muscles in her stomach twitching involuntarily. Then Sam finally kisses her, dragging his lips lightly between her legs, from her clit all the way to her entrance and then back to the top. He pulls back and looks at you, giving you your cue to try. 

You copy everything Sam had done, and you’re pleased when you get the same reaction out of Bayley that he’d gotten. When you’ve finished, you look back to Sam for further instruction. He smirks and pokes his tongue out, tracing it in a small circle around Bayley’s clit with barely any pressure, and you can see her clenching in aggravation, wanting more. You lean in as Sam’s pulling away, tongue dancing in the same pattern across her little bundle of nerves, and this time you hear a tiny whimper from above you. 

Taking initiative, you press yourself more fully against Bayley, leaving a shiny trail over her skin as your tongue plays with her, and the scent of her arousal becomes even more heady and overwhelming. 

“Good girl,” Sam coos above you, petting your back soothingly as you continue to circle your tongue in its pattern. “Kept going without me even telling you to, bet you’re just hungry to see what she tastes like, aren’t you?” 

“Mmhmm,” you hum, sealing your lips in a kiss that has Bayley gasping, her hands shooting down and twisting in your hair to hold you more firmly against her. 

“Do that again,” she pants, and you obey as readily as if it had been Sam giving you the instruction. You kiss her clit again in the same way, and she groans happily. 

“Use that tongue, baby girl,” Sam urges from your side, “we both know how good it is.” 

“Yeah we fuckin’ do,” Dean agrees, and Sam exhales sharply in amusement. 

“You enjoy my girl’s tongue, big brother?” 

“Uh... duh ,” Dean scoffs incredulously, but whatever he was about to say next is drowned out by Bayley’s squealing moan as you drag your tongue down through her folds and use it to lap at her entrance instead of her clit. 

“Fuck. You’re noisy, aren’t you sweetheart?” Sam chuckles. “Dean, why don’t you shut ‘er up for a bit.” 

Curious, you flick your eyes up to see Dean smirking as he raises up on his knees to run his cock over Bayley’s lips, which fall open easily at the invitation. 

“Fuck yeah, that’s it,” he groans, throwing his head back as he starts to pump his hips shallowly, letting her get used to the intrusion. You feel a tug on the back of your head and look over at Sam curiously, feeling a small surge of satisfaction inside when Bayley groans in annoyance at the loss of your touch. 

Sam ducks down to take your place, and Bayley’s whines start up again immediately, far louder than they had been for you. You peer around Sam’s face to watch what he’s doing, and you see the tip of his finger thrusting gently in and out of her, barely going past the first knuckle, while his tongue flicks across her clit faster than you’ve ever seen a tongue move. Yeah, you know this trick; you smile to yourself, feeling a wave of arousal thrum through your own core at the memory of just how good it feels when Sam does this. He lifts his head with a satisfied grin, dragging his finger from Bayley’s pussy slowly and then holding it to your lips. 

“Taste your sister for me, baby girl,” he breathes, his voice noticeably more raspy now. Obediently you open your mouth and suck Sam’s finger in, licking away the heavy sweetness of Bayley’s arousal. “You like that?” Sam asks knowingly, and you nod your head.

“Want more, Daddy,” you plead, and he smiles at you hungrily.

“And what do you say when you want something?”

“Please, Daddy,” you pout, trying to make yourself look as helpless and innocent as possible. 

“Please what ?” Sam grins, and you groan internally. He is not letting you have it easy tonight. 

“Please… please can I taste her again?” you ask shyly, feeling your skin flush in shame for how badly you want to put your head between your sister's legs. 

“How about you say, ‘please can I eat my sister’s cunt, Daddy?’,” Sam offers, and you catch yourself almost moaning in embarrassment and humiliation, but also in immense arousal. Fuck him for knowing you’d be into this before you even knew it yourself. 

“Please...” you hesitate but persevere. “Can I please eat my sister’s cunt, Daddy?” Somewhere in the back of your mind, you register the sounds of Dean and Bayley groaning while he continues to fuck her throat, but your attention is focused on Sam, who is lording your desire over you with glee. 

“Of course you can, baby girl,” he relents, pushing on the back of your neck roughly and shoving your lips through her slick, which you stick your tongue out to lap up eagerly. “And don’t you dare stop until she’s cumming all over your pretty little face, got that?” your dom threatens harshly and you nod, unable to hold back a moan. 

“Fuck, you look so hot with your head buried in someone’s pussy,” Sam groans, and you feel him shift on the bed next to you and then straddle your legs, holding your ass apart so he can slide his cock against your hole teasingly. “You’ll do anything your Daddy tells you to, won’t you? Of fuckin’ course you will, you’re such a slut you’re tongue fucking your own sister just to make me happy, aren’t you baby? Gonna let me and my brother fucking ruin your holes too while you’re at it. Just gonna be a fucking cumdump for us tonight, huh baby, just a pathetic set of holes for all of us to use, and you’ll fucking love it. You probably don’t even need to cum, do you? You just like being used , dontcha? Just want your Daddy to put you in your fucking place.” 

Sam spanks you harshly as he grinds his cock against your ass, pushing down on your shoulders so your head is trapped against Bayley’s cunt, and there’s nothing you could do to move him even if you had wanted to. He manhandles you so effortlessly, manipulates you like you’re just a fucking sex toy to him, and then humiliates you for actually getting off on it, and you love him for it. It’s hard to tell, because Bayley’s so wet , but you think you might actually be crying from how fucking horny Sam is making you, all while withholding the one thing he knows you’re craving: his cock buried inside you. 

“Daddy, please!” you beg, knowing you sound utterly pathetic but not caring one bit. 

“Please what, baby girl?” It’s Dean who answers you, reaching down and pulling on your hair so you’re forced to look up at him. His cock is still thrusting shallowly in your sister’s mouth, but he’s not really paying her any mind, just using her throat like a toy. “What ar’ya askin’ for, sweetheart?” 

“Want Daddy’s cock,” you whine, pouting up at Dean in hopes of sympathy. “Wan’ Daddy to fuck me. Please .” 

“Well, here’s the thing darlin’,” –Dean’s grin spreads wider across his face, and he looks even more threatening now– “I’m pretty sure I heard your Daddy tell you not to stop eating my girlfriend’s cunt until she came good and hard all over your pathetic little face,” he sneers. “And I don’t remember her cumming. Do you?” You feel the colour drain out of your face at his words because you know he’s right, and now you’re going to be punished for your mistake, you’re sure of it. 

“Yeah, let me see the fear in those pretty eyes, baby girl,” Dean pinches your chin and forces your face skyward so he can look you in the eye. “God, Sam, you gotta let me do it. I wanna make ‘er scream,” he looks behind you at his little brother, childlike excitement wild in his bright green eyes, and you hear Sam chuckle deeply. 

“Be my guest,” he answers, and you whine when Sam abandons the bed, leaving your legs cold in the absence of his body heat. You watch him round the corner of the mattress and bend down for the duffle bag they brought along. 

“What’s her favourite?” Dean asks as he rummages through the bag of toys, and that question surprises you – and apparently Sam as well – because you hear the confusion in your boyfriend's tone when he answers. 

“Uh, that one,” he points out a toy to his brother and Dean smirks. 

“You dirty, dirty girl,” he grins, clicking his tongue, and you feel yourself flush in embarrassment even though you’re not actually sure what Sam had pointed to. You have a lot of favourites when it comes to sex toys, it usually depends on your mood. After a moment more of rifling, Dean flicks his eyes up to you with a wicked grin, and slowly draws a leather whip into view. You gulp, mouth suddenly going very dry. That whip is absolutely not your favourite. That’s one of the toys that’s actually a genuine punishment for you, which is one of the reasons why it’s Sam’s favourite. 

“No, Daddy, please,” you turn to Sam, begging for mercy. “I’ll be good, I promise.” 

“You disobeyed a direct order, Y/N. You know you deserve whatever punishment we decide is fair,” Sam gives you a stern look, his hazel eyes having been almost entirely swallowed up by his pupils, making his expression dark, sinister – and hungry. You won’t find any mercy from him; he wants to see you punished just as much as Dean does. 

“Lie flat on your stomach, hands over your head,” Dean orders gravely, his voice heavy with obvious arousal, and despite your fear of the punishment, it excites you to see how much this is turning Dean on. “Bayley, hold her arms down, can’t have her running away now, can we?” His lips twitch in a smug smile as you and Bayley both follow his instructions without protest, and your twin smirks down at you as she leans on your arms and pins you to the bed. 

“How many d’ya think?” Dean asks behind you, and you hear Sam hum in contemplation. 

“I think three to start,” he muses, “but any time she fucks up after this, we double it.” 

“Ooh,” Dean hisses in mocking sympathy, “your Daddy’s a mean sonofabitch, ain’t he?” 

You don’t answer, knowing that if you agreed with Dean, Sam would add even more lashes to your punishment. The first blow of the whip lands without any warning, cracking through the air as the sharp leather tip stings your ass cheeks. You cry out in pain and surprise, burying your face in the mattress and trying to hold back the tears that instantly spring to your eyes. 

“Oh no you don’t,” Bayley grabs the back of your hair and pulls your head up, straining your neck to make you look her in the eye. “Dean said he wanted to hear you scream, so that’s what you’re gonna do. Isn’t it slut?” Another lash lands, this time across the backs of your thighs, and you do scream, your eyes scrunching up tightly against the searing pain. 

“I see why you have trouble controlling this one, Dean,” Sam remarks in amusement. “She’s got some spirit.” 

“Damn right I do,” Bay smiles proudly over your shoulders towards the brothers. 

“You want a turn at the reins, sweetheart?” Sam asks, and you hear a rustling sound as he goes through the bag, holding something up that you can’t see, but makes your sister’s eyes light up in delight. 

“Oh absolutely,” she practically purrs, “but I think our little whore still has one more lash left, doesn’t she?” 

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget,” Dean answers smugly. There’s a moment of tense silence as you wait for the final strike, wondering anxiously where it will land. The whip skims teasingly over your thighs, runs between your legs and drags through your folds, so you can feel it trailing your slick over your skin as it runs up your back, making you shive. “Beg me for it.” 

“W-what?” you stumble over the word in confusion. 

“ Beg me to hurt you,” Dean instructs you again in a neutral tone, like he’s barely interested in what’s happening right now. 

“No,” you shake your head. “No, I don’t want it, please,” you whimper, straining to get a full breath in with Bayley pulling your head back as tightly as she is. 

“Well then you don’t get to play for the rest of the night,” Sam answers coldly, crouching down on his haunches beside the bed so he’s in your line of sight. “If you want any of us to touch you for the rest of the night, then you do as you’re fucking told and beg him, is that understood?” he asks threateningly and you gulp, feeling a surge of heat tingle in your core under his hard stare. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you whimper, swallowing anxiously to try to wet your throat a little. “P-please punish me, Dean,” you stutter hesitantly, shaking when you feel the tail of the whip draping over your pussy again. 

“I think you should be addressing him with a little more respect, slut,” Bayley grins down at you maliciously, and you have to fight the childish urge to stick your tongue out at her. 

“I’m sorry, Sir ,” you whine as Sam reaches out to pinch at your nipples when you’re too slow to respond to Bayley. “Please punish me, Sir,” you beg, hoping this time it will be enough. 

“Why do you want me to punish you, baby girl?” Dean presses, and you groan internally. The anticipation of the final strike is just making it worse, and you’re sure that’s why they’re doing this. 

“Because I d-deserve it, Sir,” you pant, trying not to cry out as Sam twists your nipples again painfully, sending another burst of arousal through your system.

“Why else?” Dean smacks his palm over the mark he’d left on your ass with the whip and you moan in pain. “Tell me why you moan like a whore in heat every time I hit you,” he growls, spanking you again. 

“Because I want you to hurt me, Sir,” you mewl, trying to rock your hips against the mattress in a vain attempt to create some friction on your pussy, but it’s useless with the way Bayley is holding you down. 

“Beg me again, baby girl,” Dean commands, and you can hear the grin in his voice: the smug bastard is loving this. 

“Please punish me, Sir. Please hurt me, want you to hurt me,” you force the words out through the strain in your throat as Bayley pulls your head back even more tightly. 

“Good girl,” Sam whispers approvingly, giving both your breasts a gentle, comforting squeeze that you breathe into happily before your whole body jumps and seizes in pain as Dean lands the whip over your ass as Sam pinches your nipples and Bayley pulls your hair; all the tortures timed in such perfect synchronicity you think Dean must have given them some kind of signal you couldn’t see. Your scream rings out clearly in the room, and you see Sam swallow thickly, clearly turned on by watching your punishment at the hands of his brother. 

“P-please Daddy,” you whimper when everyone has let you go and you collapse to the mattress, too boneless to move on your own. “Please,” you whisper, trusting Sam will know what you’re begging for despite your inability to articulate it properly right now. He rolls you over on your back and brushes the hair out of your face gently, smiling down at you with pride and kindness that you soak up as if it were the very rays of the sun. 

“Don’t worry baby girl, Daddy’s here,” Sam assures you, dropping a kiss to your forehead lovingly and reaching out for your hand to give it a squeeze, letting you anchor yourself to him. “You want a cock inside you now, don’tcha sweetheart?” he asks, and you nod pleadingly. “Well, how do you feel about two at once?”

“ That’s it, that’s a good little whore, squeezin’ my big fucking cock,” Dean grunts, thrusting up into your ass from where he’s lying beneath you on the bed. “You fuckin’ love this, dontcha?” he taunts gleefully, slamming his hips against yours with extra enthusiasm as you moan in agreement. Every time Dean thrusts in is alternated by Bayley fucking her strap on into your pussy, so you’re never left without a cock inside of you. 

“What do you say when someone gives you a compliment, baby girl?” Sam reminds you, smacking one of your breasts in correction and making you clamp down harder around the cocks inside of you. 

“Thank you, Sir,” you whine, trying to resist the urge to buck your hips into Bayley’s dildo and fighting to stay still like you’re told. 

“You’re being such a good slut for Daddy,” Sam praises you, massaging the back of your neck soothingly as he uses his other hand to stroke himself while he watches the show the three of you are putting on. “If I tell you to cum for me again, will you listen?” 

You groan in reply, wanting very much to be allowed to cum again, since Sam had made Bayley pull out and ruin your last one in punishment for not asking his permission. Then you had to watch as Sam and Dean got Bayley off twice before he’d let any of them touch you again.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” Sam smiles pompously and pumps his cock faster for a moment before releasing himself and moving a little further down the bed. He bends over between you and Bayley and spits sharply on your clit, slicking you up to tease his fingers over the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Okay baby girl, you get until the count of five,” –he rubs a little harder and a little more quickly– “but if you haven’t started cumming yet then you have to wait again, okay? You gonna cum for Daddy?” 

“Oh fuck, yes Daddy!” you whine, practically sobbing in need as you clamp your muscles rhythmically around Dean and Bayley, willing yourself to tip over the edge. 

“Five… four… three…” 

“Oh God, oh fuck, right there! Right there, fuck yes, don’t stop! Don’t stop, Daddy! Oh my God!” you cry, feeling your legs beginning to shake and your muscles tensing desperately. 

“Two…” Sam speeds his two fingers up just a fraction and slips them just a little to the left, and then you scream, your orgasm washing through you in a flurry of spasming muscles and shaking nerves and you shudder so fiercely in Dean’s arms that he and Bayley actually slip out of you and you roll off to the side, landing on the bed in a fit of breathlessness. 

“Holy shit,” Dean laughs, sweeping your hair out of your eyes and stroking the top of your head as you come down from your high. “What do I have to do to cum that hard?” 

“I might have an idea,” Bayley smirks seductively at Dean, then flashes you a wink, and even in your slightly foggy state you understand exactly what she’s talking about. 

“Bring it on, sweetheart,” Dean beckons his girlfriend over to him eagerly and she climbs into his lap. You and Sam are now safely out of her way as he cuddles you into his chest, his chin hooked over your shoulder as you watch the pair of them. You smile to yourself as Sam starts to grind his cock against your ass, wondering what he’ll think of Bayley’s suggestion. 

“I think” –Bayley kisses over Dean’s cheek and bites his ear teasingly– “you would cum so hard” –she grinds her strap against Dean, sliding her dildo alongside his cock, and Dean doesn’t protest– “if you” –she reaches down and wraps a hand around the pair of cocks, pumping them together so Dean throws his head back and groans– “let Sam fuck you,” she speaks against Dean’s lips, and he immediately freezes. You can feel Sam stiffen a little behind you too, his hips stopping their rocking motion, and you wonder what that means. 

“You can’t be serious,” Dean scoffs, looking at Bayley with a raised eyebrow, then glancing over at you and Sam, then back to Bayley, who says nothing, just stares Dean down placidly. “ Seriously ?” 

“Why not?” Bayley shrugs. “You’re the one who said you wanted to cum as hard as Y/N, I guarantee you one of the reasons she screamed that loud was the number of cocks inside of her,” she smirks at you, and this time, in the comforting glow of your orgasm, you can’t resist making a face back at her. “Oh c’mon Y/N, help me out here, you want to see them fuck too,” Bayley whines a little petulantly, and Dean looks over a you with a look of intense betrayal, like you’d just scratched the Impala or something. Sam rolls you over a little and looks down at you. 

“You want to see me and Dean, baby girl?” he asks, curiosity alight in the slim ring of his hazel irises still visible. 

“I– … yes, Daddy,” you answer with a hesitant nod, feeling yourself flush under his scrutiny and waiting with bated breath for his reaction. He dips his head closer, brushing his lips over yours goadingly as he speaks. 

“You wanna see me fuck my brother? Think he’ll look good with my cock up his tight little ass?” You feel another surge of arousal wash through you, even though you’re still recovering from your last orgasm.

“Yes. Please, Daddy ,” you whisper against his lips, teasing him with an almost kiss in return. “You’d look so hot.” 

“You got to see me fuck Y/N,” Bayley points out petulantly, pouting at Dean. “It’s only fair, really.” 

“She’s got a point there, brother,” Sam laughs, raising his head to grin wolfishly at his big brother. “C’mon, I promise I’ll be gentle for your first time,” he jests and you see Dean roll his eyes. “Or are you not man enough to take it up the ass?” 

“Oh, fuck you,” Dean grunts, shoving Bayley off him unceremoniously and turning over on his hands and knees with an aggravated huff. “Just use enough lube, asshole,” he gripes, grabbing the tube off the nightstand and tossing it over his shoulder to Sam, who catches it easily. 

“Will do, don’t worry,” Sam chuckles. “You griping at me the whole time wouldn’t be sexy.” 

Even with plenty of lube and – in your opinion – very generous and considerate prep from Sam, Dean still complains, but Sam takes it in stride and snaps right back at him, not at all discouraged. You and Bayley have settled in to watch the show, leaning against the headboard with a pile of pillows and nestling together. You feel Bayley’s shoulder nudging against yours and look away from the boys to see what she wants but then realise she’s not doing it to get your attention, she’s slipping out of her harness so she can touch herself more easily. Dean notices too and smirks at his girlfriend. 

“Yeah, enjoy the show sweetheart. It’s a once in a lifetime performance,” he grunts in annoyance. 

“I’ll remind you you said that the next time you’re beggin’ me to fuck you,” Sam taunts, and you and Bayley can’t help giggling into each other’s shoulders. 

“Sounding pretty cocky for a guy who hasn’t actually brought the goods yet, baby brother,” Dean sneers over his shoulder, and Sam smirks. 

“Oh trust me, I’ve got plenty of cock to bring to the table,” he laughs as he runs the tip of his length up and down over Dean’s hole, teasing him with the anticipation. 

“Will you just fucking– holy shit –” Dean swears, gritting his teeth as Sam starts to push in. 

“You gotta relax f’me, Dean,” Sam grunts, pumping his hips shallowly, trying to get more than just the head of his cock inside. 

“Kinda hard to relax when you’re shoving a log up my ass!” 

Sam rolls his eyes in exasperation and smacks Dean’s ass with a resounding thwack . You, Dean and Bayley all blink in shock and silence. 

“Stop fucking back-talking me, bitch,” Sam growls, pushing three of his fingers, with freshly added lube, back into Dean and drawing a hiss out of the older man. “Don’t wanna embarrass yourself in front of our little sluts, do you? Hmm?” he asks pointedly, and Dean lets out an uneven breath, shaking his head begrudgingly. 

“Y/N, get down here,” Sam beckons, motioning for you to slide yourself beneath Dean, and you obey quickly. “Get your dick wet, maybe that will stop you whining like a fucking brat for ten seconds.” 

You spread your legs outside of Dean’s knees and reach your arms up around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss in an effort to distract him. Dean’s hips land abruptly on top of yours, so you assume Sam pushed him down in an effort to hurry him along. You grind your hips up so Dean is sliding between your legs and he takes the hint, reaching down to hold his dick steady as he pushes himself inside of you. He’s not fully hard you notice, so you start to thrust yourself against him, fucking yourself into his cock and moaning wantonly for it. 

“C’mon bitch, fuck ‘er,” Sam grunts and spanks Dean again, crashing his hips into yours and making you groan. “We both know you can do better than that.” 

“Fuck off,” Dean groans, but he still follows Sam’s orders, pulling out and slamming his hips back down, fucking you harshly into the mattress, and you feel him getting harder inside of you with each thrust. You moan happily as his increased girth stretches you tightly, rubbing against the sensitive spot just inside you with every thrust. 

“Oh god, yeah. That feels so good, Sir,” you sigh breathily in Dean’s ear, trying to get him more into it – though you aren’t lying, he does feel really good . 

“Okay tiger, stay still for a second,” Sam chuckles, grabbing Dean’s hips to hold him in place. “Let’s try this again.” Dean’s face scrunches up in discomfort as Sam starts sliding his cock into Dean’s entrance. “Relax for me, baby boy,” Sam purrs, stroking down Dean’s back soothingly, and you feel the shudder that runs through Dean at Sam’s words. Looking over Dean’s shoulder you see Sam smile, and you know he must have felt it too. “Doing so good f’me baby boy, just relax, just a little bit more,” he promises gently, easing himself deeper. 

Dean lets out a small whine, but you think there might be an undertone of pleasure hiding beneath the discomfort this time. You squeeze yourself around his cock, grinding up against him to give him some pleasure to focus on, and he lets out a proper groan this time. Behind you, you hear Bayley swear quietly under her breath. You have to admit, you kind of wish your places were reversed right now, you’d love to be able to watch Sam working himself inside of his brother for the first time, but the view from down here isn’t so bad either. 

“Shit,” Sam grunts, thrusting forwards a little more harshly, and moaning along with Dean when he finally bottoms out inside of him. “You’re fucking tight, dude,” he breathes heavily, like he’s just finished a workout. 

“No fucking kidding, I’m a fucking virgin back there,” Dean hisses as Sam slowly begins to draw himself back and then rocks forward again. 

“Not anymore you’re not,” Sam grins, repeating his gentle rocking. You can feel your boyfriend’s movements echoed in how Dean’s hips slide between your own legs. “Now you’re just another one of my sluts, aren’t you baby boy,” he coos in a sing-song voice, and you find yourself whimpering along with Dean – who you’re sure would deny he ever did something so unmanly as whimper , but you know what you heard. You’re pretty sure Dean is enjoying Sam degrading him just as much as you – and Bayley from the sounds of it – are. 

Sam slowly builds up his pace until he’s actually fucking Dean; his hips slapping lewdly against Dean’s ass very much the loudest sound in the room for the time being. You’re enjoying being a bit of a cock warmer for the older brother. He’s not really fucking you properly, just rocking in and out of you as a consequence of his brother’s thrusts. Dean isn’t making too much noise anymore but you think that’s more out of stubbornness than anything. Based on his facial expressions and the way he kind of gasps in every now and then like he did when you were sucking him off earlier, you think he is actually enjoying this, and you decide Sam probably won’t mind if you try to push him a bit. 

“Tell me how it feels, Sir,” you whisper against his ear and drop little kisses over his neck. Dean grunts as Sam fucks into him with a particularly rough thrust, but then gasps in earnest when Sam grinds his hips in and leans back a little as he pulls out, clearly searching for a specific spot inside the hole he’s using. 

“It uh” –Dean hesitates and wets his lips a little– “feels full.” 

“Well, Daddy is pretty big” –you grin conspiratorially– “but that’s one of the things I love about him. Love when he fucks me on his big, huge cock. Makes me beg for it, makes me scream …” 

“Holy–” Dean’s curse is cut off by a strangled moan and a triumphant chuckle from Sam. “ That , that felt good,” Dean groans, actually arching his back a little in an effort to force Sam back to the same spot. 

“There we go, baby boy,” Sam grins, stroking Dean’s back again as he thrusts at the new angle, sending Dean’s heart racing as his lungs freeze up. “Sorry that took me so long to find, outta practice these days,” he laughs a little, winking down at you over his brother's shoulder, and you recall vividly when he’d regaled you with stories of his college experimentations with guys while he fucked your ass; it had been a memorable night. 

“Just don’ fuckin’ stop, ‘kay?” Dean rasps, his voice hoarse and tense. 

“Oh, believe me, I’m not stoppin’ until you’re cumming inside that cunt you’re buried in. That’s what we promised her, right? She gets to be everyone’s cumdump tonight.” 

“Oh god, yes Daddy, please,” you whine, bucking your hips up into Dean more vigorously now that Sam’s found the angle and rhythm that’s making Dean lose his mind. 

“Hey, that includes me, right?” Bayley asks from somewhere above your head, and Sam laughs. 

“Of course it does, sweetheart. Why don’t you ride Y/N’s face? Don’t worry about letting her breathe too much, just get yourself off for us, baby,” Sam sneers, and you and Dean both groan loudly. 

“Fuck yeah, get up here Bay,” Dean pulls her forwards and helps her straddle her legs on either side of your head, then pulls her down into a desperate kiss. “Ride your sister’s face for us, put on a show,” he grins indulgently, and Bayley doesn’t waste any time in granting his request. 

You taste the hot, bittersweet tang of her arousal sharply on your tongue as she lowers her pussy over your mouth and you stick out your tongue to meet her, licking and sucking enthusiastically. Your sister also has no qualms adhering to Sam’s suggestion about suffocating you beneath her, and you’re quickly beginning to lose focus from the infrequent opportunities for breath, but Bayley makes up for it by rutting herself against your lips and tongue without needing you to do too much more besides lie there and take it. 

Everyone is moaning and panting, and Dean is now fucking you more aggressively, thrusting himself into your pussy before arching himself back onto Sam’s cock just as eagerly. Your senses are hard to separate as you get more and more lightheaded from the intense pleasure of being utterly used combined with lack of oxygen. You don’t even when realise Bayley starts to cum until you feel Dean’s fingers forcing themselves between your lips and her legs. She raises herself up on her knees a little but still hovers over you while Dean furiously pumps his fingers against the front wall of her pussy. You realise a split second before it happens what he’s aiming for and manage to close your eyes just in time for Bayley to squirt over your still open mouth. 

“Fuck yeah, good girl,” Dean grunts as Bayley rides out the last vestiges of her climax on his fingers. She pulls his hand from between her legs and dips down to suck his fingers clean. “Oh shit, you dirty fucking girl,” Dean laughs breathlessly as she continues to lick his hand. “I was gonna make Y/N do that.” 

“She can next time,” Bay smiles, tossing you a wink as she climbs off of your face and rolls onto the mattress with a dramatic squeaking of the springs. 

“Tell ya what, she can suck your cock clean after you shoot your load in her cunt, baby boy,” Sam promises with a wicked smirk, suspecting correctly the effect that saying that would have on his big brother. 

“Fuck yes, want your cum Sir, please, ” you beg in a pathetically breathless voice. “Cum inside me, pleasepleaseplease ...” You keep up your litany of supplications until Dean is gasping above you and grinding himself as deeply as he can into your pussy. You imagine you can almost feel the warmth of his cum spreading inside of you. Sam pulls out of Dean and tugs him off of you roughly, shoving himself up the bed and landing over you in a rush, barely sparing a breath before he’s pushing inside your freshly ruined cunt. 

“God, look at you, baby girl,” he growls; face wild, eyes almost feral. “Such a good little slut taking everyone’s cum for Daddy. Think you deserve a reward, what do you think?” 

“Yes, Daddy, please,” you cry, burying your head against Sam’s chest as he ruts into you viciously. 

“Okay, you pick, baby girl. Either Daddy cums inside you, or you can cum, but Daddy cums inside that slut sister’a’yours instead. Which one d’you want?” Sam grins down at you wickedly, somehow still lucid enough to torture you even when he’s clearly so close to his own climax. You panic for a moment, caught off guard at being asked to choose anything at all, but once the shock passes you know your choice easily. 

“Cum inside me Daddy,” you gasp, and you know when you see him smile that you chose right. “Want to be your good little whore Daddy, want you to use me, please, Daddy please–” you would have gone on begging as long as he let you, but Sam claps a hand over your mouth and nose, essentially cutting off your air and your ability to speak. His thrusts are so forceful they bang the bed dangerously hard against the wall, and you're worried you might either break the bed or break the wall if he keeps at it much longer. 

“Good girl, Y/N,” Sam moans, and his rhythm starts to falter a little. “Daddy’s gonna fill you up so good baby, fuck , gonna cum so fucking hard inside this slutty little cunt. You’re gonna be fucking dripping– fuck, fuck yes !” He groans loudly, and grinds himself between your legs harshly, burying his cock as deep inside of you as he can and clutching you against him as he cums, trembling violently as the waves of pleasure crash overwhelm his system. You can feel something wet and hot leaking out between your legs as his cum fills you up more than your body can take, his and Dean’s seed leaks out around his cock as he continues to rock himself gently inside of you. 

A few moments pass in silence as you breathe in Sam , and he settles down around you. Eventually he pulls back, a weary smile on his face, and you’re sad when he eases his cock out of you even though it’s begun to go soft; you miss being enmeshed, twined together as if you were one single being. 

“Good girl,” Sam whispers against your ear, giving you a sweet kiss on your cheek, and your body thrums happily under the praise. “Love you.” 

“Love you too,” you whisper back happily, flashing Sam a small, blissed out smile. A gagging sound to your right draws the attention of both of you, and you look around to see Dean and Bayley making identical silly faces as if they’re going to be sick. 

“You two are gross,” Bayley complains, Dean nodding behind her in agreement.  

“Oh shut up,” you stick your tongue out at her in retaliation. “I know you and Dean are in love too, don’t pretend you’re ‘too cool’ to say it.” 

“Hey, I say it,” Dean protests, offended. 

“Yeah, with your dick,” Bayley scoffs, but she gives him a quick peck on the lips to show she’s only kidding. 

“If you say ‘I love you’ with your dick, I might have to ban you from fucking Y/N again,” Sam laughs, pulling you up into his arms to hug you against him possessively and dropping a kiss to the top of your shoulder. “She’s still mine.”

“Aww, but I liked watching him fuck her,” Bayley pouts at Sam. 

“Well, I can scratch that off my bucket list, at least,” Dean grins.

“What?” Bay turns to look at Dean curiously. 

“Dating the coolest chick ever ,” he smiles brightly, smooshing a dramatic kiss against her forehead as Bayley giggles and tries to struggle out of his grasp, but you know she’s secretly loving it. 

“Now who’s being lame,” Sam scoffs, finally peeling himself off the bed and stretching out his stupidly long limbs. “C’mon Y/N, let’s get you cleaned up. I’ve got something I want to cross off my own bucket list,” he smiles playfully, holding his hand out to you and helping you slide off the end of the bed. 

“Oh? What’s that?” you ask, unable to think of something new he could possibly hope to be doing during your typical after-care couples shower. Sam pulls you close with a mischievous glint in his eye and whispers, low enough that only you can hear him. 

“Eating my brother’s cum out of your cunt.”