the only noise beating out is ours - fic, 4,666 words.
Title: the only noise beating out is ours
Author: *raises hand, guiltily*
Characters, Pairings: Its just a big Dean/Sam/Anna/Ruby foursome pwp, aiight? Go with it.
Rating: NC-17 (triple x size)
Word Count: 4,666 .aka. 8pages of porn.
Summary: There's this witch. And she's evil. And then there's the sex pollen.
Warnings: Abuse of Persian rugs, foursomes, orgies, explicit sex scenes, sex pollen fic. Swearing. The whole caboodle. Dirty, dirty porn.
Notes: ALL FOR YOU, scorpiod1 !! Originally meant to be a comment fic for her five_acts, it kinda mutated. So. Blame her. Not me. (Damn enabler.) Title from Snow Patrol lyrics, The Lightning Strike: What If This Storm Ends (i), The Sunlight Through The Flags (ii), Daybreak (iii). (AKA SIXTEEN MINUTES OF AWESOME THAT I HAD ON REPEAT.) Looked over for me by the insanely lovely familiardevil, thanks hon!!
Lemme tell you a story, okay baby? Aiight.
So.
There's this witch.
She's nasty, like, always snacking on babies as though they were candy corn - or maybe its kittens? Whatever! They are so interchangeable. The point is, she totally likes to chow down on things that are cute and innocent, with huge, dewy eyes. Obviously she’s evil.
In any case, our boys have to go and kill her, seeing as how they found all these suspicious deaths in the town’s obits, and they all led back to her. (Not to mention the kitten/baby-boneyard.) Still, it's kinda sad, 'coz she's hot like the burn of a California sun, and Dean fell a little in love with her wicked brown eyes on first meeting.
It was somethin’ about her perfume, he thinks, somewhat wistful, before shoving it out of his mind. Because, hey, whatever. Job’s a job. Witch’s a witch. And Dean, well. Dean really hates witches.
The boys've got an angel and a demon ridin' in the backseat - Ruby 'coz she's a'wantin' to dig through the witch's magical hodgepodge for anything of use when she’s rolled over dead, and Anna 'coz she needs the witch's soul for a spell later on down the track.
Truthfully, Sam doesn't know which motive is more disturbing.
What’s that?
Dean?
Eh. He doesn’t really care, so long as Ruby doesn’t get her supernatural cooties all over his girl. (Anna’s already been there, done that.)
Anyways, this witch. I told you she’s evil, right? Yeah, well, when our heroes (and heroines, right, sorry) show up locked and loaded for bear, there she is with a big ol’ smile, sweet as green apples. Waitin’ for ‘em.
She’s standin’ on the staircase with her fingers crooked and her head cocked, Latin streaming from her lips in a sinuous flow. Finishes that up with them all standin’ there in the foyer, mouths agape and thumbs stuck up where the sun ain’t shinin’, ‘coz they’ve all been caught in a sticky sort of webbed-time spell; then she’s lobbing a ball of spice and flowers over their heads.
It explodes into this sparkly yellow powder at a single word, and she - coverin’ her nose and mouth with one hand - runs into another room with a tinkly little laugh.
What did I tell you? Totally evil bitch.
~
The smell of cinnamon and red roses and something weirder, crackly, like sunlight, is soaking’ into the air, Dean’s pores, his face, making his head spin and his heart pound in the base of his wrists. The big vein in his neck.
He tries not to breathe it in - a lost cause ‘coz he can feel the glittering cloud settle like dust in his hair, his lungs, in his nose and fuck,, he mustn’t have closed his gaping mouth in time ‘coz he can even taste it.
And, hey, he’s already breathed it in enough that tasting it, rolling his tongue against the roof his mouth and swallowing it down to get more, more, more of the intoxicating flavour won’t matter much, right? Why shouldn’t he? Just a little? Just a bit.
It tastes - it tastes like cinnamon and honey, smoky sweet, burning a trail over his tongue and down his throat, lower, lower, fuck, filling him all up with this urgency that his body can barely contain. Expanding all throughout him to his fingertips, his toes. His skin feels too small, too tight and overheated, and god, god, the dust tastes so good in his mouth, like liquid light.
And suddenly, killing a witch doesn’t seem so urgent anymore, and actually, hey - Anna and Sam are making out.
Anna’s got her legs all wrapped up tight around Sam’s waist, and his big hands are spanning the entirety of her arse, fingers digging in. She’s clutching at his hair, pulling, and Dean watches as Sam slips his head back with a moan, throat exposed, for her to bite the white skin, and mark it all up with her teeth. Her hair’s falling into Sam’s face like fire, brushing his cheekbones.
“Shit,” Dean curses, and his voice sounds faraway. Watching, ‘coz, oh god, he wants to touch, - the arching poetry of Anna’s spine, and the steel bands of muscle in Sam’s arms, his legs, planted and steady. He wants to bite the tendon in his brother’s neck, he wants to line himself up against Sam’s back and lay his hands on familiar hips, kiss the nape of Sam’s neck where his hair curls sweetly into his skin.
God, he wants it, wants it, he wants it all ten times more’n he usually does, Sam, the endless need baking him from the inside out, flushing his cheeks red, his lips parted and shining wet. Sam, god. It’s always been Sam, for Dean.
He blinks and then, all unexpected-like, he’s got Ruby’s hands creeping into the fabric over his stomach, her warm breath on his shoulder blade, moist and sulphuric. “Shit,” Dean says again, lower. His voice resembles something that’d been recently hauled over gravel.
“Hey there, sailor,” Ruby purrs, and it’s almost comical, it would be stupid but for the way even her touch twists the tension tighter in his gut, and yeah - cheese always works for Dean. He leans back into her hands, grabbing at her wrists, and turns his head over his shoulder so’s she can bite at his mouth, teeth sharp on his flesh.
Dean can’t think why he’s never gone here with a demon. He can’t think. Can’t think. Can’t - ‘coz Ruby feels just like any other woman, her breasts soft and full, straining against his back, and she’s biting at his earlobe, pulling it into the damp heat of her mouth.
For Dean its crazy-good, just watching as Sam and Anna devour each other, Anna’s hands scratching at Sam’s back, rutting her hips up against him. Sam’s groans echoing in the foyer, bouncing back off the hall mirror, and the crappy retro painting of a bowl of fruit. Just feeling as Ruby’s red-painted nails slither under his shirt and scritch at the soft flesh of his belly as they’re goin’ down. One small hand covers his denim-trapped dick, and squeezes.
Oh, oh, and Dean’s hard and leaking at the tip already, wet spot soaking through his briefs (always briefs, on a hunt) and his jeans. Then Sam’s taking two wobbling, coltish steps over, coiling a hand around the back of Dean’s neck and bringing his face up close to crush their mouths together.
Sam’s licking into Dean’s mouth, all tongue and teeth, no subtlety; sucking on his bottom lip like it’s all he ever wanted in the world. And Dean? Baby, Dean’s keeping his eyes open ‘coz he doesn’t wanna miss a second of this.
He feels like his skin is burning up, filled to bursting of heat and light and Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. His heart is beating so fast, he feels it everywhere, the backs of his knees, in his mouth, everywhere he and Sam are touching. Can’t seem to stop moaning, panting, grabbing on to the sides of Sam’s over-shirt and clinging tight, refusing to let go, or pause, or think, reeling him in as close as possible with Anna still clutched between their bodies. Dean feels desperate, greedy, his whole body heavy and lush with heat, his dick swollen and leaking pre-cum all over his thigh.
Then Anna - still stuck like a limpet to Sam’s waist, shirt lost and bra straps falling down her arms - bends to the side, bends down to press her lips to where Ruby’s angled up her red, red mouth for a kiss. Ruby, who’s skipped ahead of them and stripped naked, all heavy, rounded breasts and waving dark hair, eyes glazed over black with her lust.
The inside of Ruby’s slim thighs are all slippery - Dean can see it, shit - and she’s got already a hand curling’ into herself, not shy at all, fast and perfect, dirty-sweet. Dean can hear the filthy wet noises of her flesh, her whimpers swallowed up by Anna’s mouth; can see the stuttering of her hips into her own fingers and the slick dribbling down the inside of her wrist. He wants to bury his face in her cunt; wants to get her mess all over his face and make her beg for it. Make her beg him. Wants Sam to lick the taste of her off his nose, chin, tongue. Wants Sam to taste her on him, before all he can taste is Sam.
He wants to fuck her raw.
Dean leans in and licks the shell of Ruby’s ear, Sam a mirror image on her other side; he meets his brother’s eyes over her head as he bites at the delicate whorl and flicks his tongue.
Then, then, Ruby’s coming, back arching, jesus she’s loud, unabashedly so, Sam and Dean both pulling back to watch her come undone, with Sam’s big warm hand still cupping the curve of Dean’s skull. Anna’s plucking Ruby’s nipples like harp strings throughout, breathless, palming the fullness of her breasts, and the soft skin of her throat, eyes wide and hungry and all over Ruby’s skin.
The next thing that was worth focusing on, after a haze of jerked off pants and shirts, and Anna’s frenzied writhing at Ruby’s teeth worrying the underside of one pale breast, is this: Sam, the shape of his huge shoulders bent over Dean, and their bodies fused together at the hips, erections slotting together perfectly.
Dean grinds up as Sam grinds down, and fuck, approximately three seconds of that and he’s coming all over his own stomach and his brother’s dick, digging his nails into Sam’s bare arse the entire time. Breaths pulled in harshly through his open mouth, and all Dean can taste is the shimmering cinnamon-rose powder on the meat of Sam’s shoulder, the taste of burning honey, and Sam, Sam all over his tongue.
“Sam,” he’s saying, hoarse. He can’t remember when he started. He can’t find a reason to stop. “Sammy.”
Aftershocks of light and heat are spiking through his limbs, and Dean can still feel the sparkling lust deep in his belly, weaving through him, consuming him. He drags a hand over the come on his stomach, his chest, and then slides it lower to fist Sam’s cock, the whole length of him burning hot like a brand between Dean’s fingers. He's nowhere near satisfied; whole body feeling heavy with desire, and his dick already starting to twitch, refilling itself even as he watches Sam buck into his grip, throw his head back and groan, long and loud like he can’t help himself. The carpet of the foyer is burning the skin on his shoulder blades, but Dean can’t care. Barely notices.
Sam’s leaking all over Dean’s palm, and it’s not enough, Dean wants to taste him. Now. He flips them both over, fast, and kisses Sam’s gasping mouth, before moving down to where Sam’s dick lies curved into his stomach, leaving smears of pre-cum just under his bellybutton.
Dean wants to lay claim to every inch of Sam’s body, mark him up - the soft, fragile skin of his inner elbow, the heavy muscle of his thigh, the wavy little scar on his ribcage - but he needs everything too fast, and right now, needs it all at once. He’s never wanted anything as much as he wants Sam in his mouth right this second. So he ducks his head down to lave the soft head of Sam’s dick, pushes his forehead into Sam’s stomach and moans with him in tandem - salty sweetness coating his tongue, and fuck, he’s wanted this so long he can barely stand it, his whole skin stretching to encompass the sunlight bursting in his chest.
He stops fucking around, and puts his mouth on Sam’s cock, jesus, the head sliding over Dean’s tongue, so hot and wet. The taste of Sam in his mouth is intoxicating, crazy, making Dean's dick swell and pulse against the carpet, already impossibly hard again, rubbing and grinding and hurting - but so good. He tastes like salt and sweat and come, incredible, and Dean ducks his head down too fast, trying to get all of him in at once - choking on the size. Oh god, fuck, it doesn’t even matter when Sam's cock pops out to slap back wetly onto his belly, because he still wants it all, doesn’t even take a second out to get his breath back. Dean just cups it in his hand, mouths along the length of it, getting it all sloppy and wet with his tongue, scraping a little with his teeth because he's too far gone to be gentle.
Shit, fuck, he wants - he wants, he just wants, and he props Sam up in one hand, swallowing down what he can, dick sliding down deep into the back of his throat, Sam yelling his name over his head, nails scratching along Dean’s scalp as he thrusts up, careless and uneven into Dean’s mouth.
He can hear the girls next to them, Ruby face shoved between Anna's quivering thighs, and fuck, it's so hot, Anna's head tossing against the floor, strangling screams in her throat. And shit, she's clutching Ruby's hair between her fingers and writhing, bucking up, hips twisting away and back into Ruby's hands where she’s barely being held down. Dean can see Ruby’s tongue, just dipping in lazily to Anna's cunt, licking all along her folds and over her clit, the lewdest thing he's ever seen.
He bobs his head, dragging his tongue over the head of Sam's dick and meets Ruby's inked-over eyes as she licks delicately at Anna, both of them far gone and smirking - and then Sam's slipping out of his mouth again, pre-cum slurring over Dean's cheekbone and the side of his mouth before he comes with a shout, calves quaking where they’ve curled themselves around to cradle Dean's ribs.
~
Anna feels so hot and full it's like she's burning up - she's never felt anything like this heat before, stripping her limbs down to the bone, making her moan and scream and shout, her whole being consumed with shudders like her very body, her bones, are being pulled apart at the seams.
Ruby's got one hand gripped into her hip, nails pinching the tender skin, the other buried between her own thighs, and is finally sucking on Anna’s clit, fierce, relentless, her face and chin all wet with Anna's slick. Anna can't do anything but grind up into Ruby's tongue and fall apart, once, twice, three times maybe - it's ongoing, it won't stop, she keeps needing more, now, now. She wants all of Ruby, she wants anything this demon is willing to give her, wants to fill up the bare spaces inside with Ruby’s fingers, her tilted smile, the hungry look in her eyes, instead of this empty white light.
Then Ruby's climbing up her body, licking into her mouth, rubbing herself full-length against Anna. Anna wants to get her closer, so close that the heat melts them into each other, no difference in their shape - she wants to mark up every inch of Ruby’s skin with handprints and possess her.
Anna can feel where Ruby's soaking, right against her thigh, and she shoves it up to grind, Ruby throwing her head back with gritted teeth, black hair writhing on her bare, white shoulders. God, Anna can't stand it, can't stand just to watch her like this - so hot, so wanton, and she slides a hand down to Ruby's pussy, parting her folds and shoving her fingers up and in, two at once, gasping at the tight-wet-hot feel of Ruby clenching around her fingers, sucking her in up to the base of her third knuckles, greedy. She feels a flicker of triumph; this, this is everything she wants, and she’s just going to take it, she’s going to take Ruby, she’s going to own her.
Desperate, Ruby is thrusting down onto Anna's fingers, breasts swaying and bouncing with her motion, and Anna leans up, bites at a nipple when it brushes her mouth, licks and sucks, and tucks her face into the hollow of Ruby's chest, face sweaty and flushed. She can feel Ruby's stolen heart thudding, violent, against her forehead, and shit, she wants to taste it in her mouth, wants Ruby's life throbbing, pulsing against her tongue - fragile and hers alone. But Ruby's coming a second time, long and luxurious, screams echoing up to the ceiling.
They twist against each other, then twine together on their sides, Anna flinging a leg up over Ruby's thigh, trying to get close, closer, please, oh. Ruby's fingers sink into her, curling up and rubbing, and finding the place inside that shoots light through Anna’s veins, the heat gripping like tendrils in her guts, her fingers still pumping into Ruby, wanting to see her face, wanting her to come apart again for Anna. She wants to lay waste to this demon, wants the shaking line of her shoulders and the panting of every breath that tastes of damnation; she wants to make Ruby anew, just for her.
Then Dean - or Sam - or both of them, yes, it’s both of them Anna can see barely through the haze - are looming over the girls where they're clutched together, sweaty, heaving bodies. Dean leans over, kisses into Anna's mouth, thrusting his tongue. Anna can taste come there, Sam's - it must be, at the corner of Dean's mouth, on his chin, and opens her mouth to take more of it into her.
Sam's pushing his way in between the two girls, his huge body demanding, and Anna feels her fingers leave Ruby with a beautiful, carnal squelch, her hand slick with Ruby's mess all over her palm, all her fingers, and when Dean pulls away she sucks them into her mouth, a base instinct. Dean and Sam and Ruby's eyes are all on her as she licks between the digits and over her hand and wrist, eyes turned up in a knowing smile all the while.
Dean's big and hot, somewhat familiar pressed against the curve of her arse, his dick riding the crease. When he lifts her leg and slides into her, Anna throws her head back against his shoulder with a gasp, hair sticking to her face with sweat, watching as Sam picks Ruby up effortlessly and slides her onto him, her body curved over his and shaking, hands on his chest and thighs either side of his hips.
"Sam," Ruby groans, low, and Anna whines high in the back of her throat in answer, watching the exquisite picture that is Ruby and Sam, rutting like animals on a twelve thousand dollar Persian rug, Dean's dick filling her up so deep she could choke on it. It’s perfect.
Dean latches his teeth onto the side of her neck, tongue following to soothe the bite marks, and Anna just rocks back into him, his arm curved around her waist. One hand cups her breast, kneading it, rolling the nipple between thumb and fingers as they watch Sam and Ruby reach climax together again - one following the other over like they're falling off a cliff, both loud and shameless in their desire.
Fuck, fuck, Anna thinks, when Ruby meets her eyes, and she's coming - again, shit, like a lava bubble bursting in the middle of her body, sweeping through her frame and taking over, the taste of blood and honey in her mouth. Dean shudders against her with a soft, breathless grunt into her hair, and stills. "Sam," he's saying into the hair behind her ear, and Anna understands completely. The name on the tip of her tongue's is not his, no, even as his dick twitches with life inside her, not having the decency to go soft for even a second after spilling into her core.
Anna shakes, still unsatisfied; she needs more, she needs everything, she doesn’t know how to stop.
Dean’s dick pulses with his heart and Anna can feel it the beat of it both inside her and against her back, the whole of her over-sensitised and breathless. She closes her eyes, bites her bottom lip, trying to find some sort of peace from this chaos inside, and then he's pulling out and climbing over Anna on his hands and knees, kissing into Sam's mouth again. "I want -" he's whispering, "Sammy, I want you to fuck me," and Sam's groaning, because Ruby's still twisting herself down against his cock, reaching urgently for another orgasm, this one arriving with a helpless little hiccup, her cheeks flushed red, half-closed eyes dark as pitch. “Later,” he says, and even Anna shudders at that, at the dark promise his voice is laden with.
Anna wants nothing more than to slide in behind Ruby and taste where she and Sam are joined, or maybe sit on Sam's rippling stomach muscles, her front pressed to Ruby’s, and kiss her wide, perfect red mouth, the hinge of her jaw, her breasts. But then Dean's kneeling in behind where Ruby is, between Sam's spread thighs, and frantically pulling her head back by the hair, kissing into her mouth, whispering something in her ear that makes her keen and nod her head, fast and unsteady.
"Yeah, Dean," Ruby's saying, and her voice sounds broken, shredded up. "Come on, fuck me, do it," and Dean bends her over Sam, and crooks a finger at Anna from where she's lying, a hand having crept back between her own thighs, keeping her full.
"Come here, Anna," he says, low, and she crawls over, trembling. "Here,” he whispers, rough, into the shell of her ear, his fingers slipping along the groove of Ruby’s arse, down to where she and Sam are one. “I want you to lick her, stretch her out, so I can fuck her too," and Ruby's mewling at this, Sam's legs are quivering, and Dean just smirks at her, easy, easy. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing to all of them. Anna moans.
"Yeah," she says, as though she’d had to be convinced, and bends down to where Ruby and Sam are joined - she can see his big dick just disappearing endlessly into the swollen pink core of her, can hear the dirty wet sounds of their bodies slapping together - not stopping even for a second.
Ruby doesn't need Anna to lick her cunt, Anna can see Sam's come dribbling out from inside her and spreading onto his high, tight balls, she can see all of Ruby's slick sliding around on her thighs and Sam's, and fuck, Anna doesn't care - she wants to taste, now, now.
She bends her head down, curves her neck, pushes her tongue up to where she can feel Ruby's slit, stretched wide around Sam's dick, and moans into it, the taste of them mixing together on her tongue. Slides a finger in beside it, and can feel the clenching of Ruby’s inner walls about her, the smooth, pulsing length of Sam’s dick. Fits another up inside as Ruby makes a high sound in the back of her throat and Dean shushes her, takes her noises into his mouth and swallows them down.
Anna can feel Dean watching her even as he kisses Ruby, watching her eat them both, Sam’s dick gliding against her tongue as he thrusts up, and up again. The way Ruby’s shaking around both of them, sopping wet and so obviously ready. Anna moves back, and licks her mouth, voice thready as she nods at Dean, says, “Now.”
“Wait,” Dean says, “let me -” and he’s kissing the taste of Sam and Ruby out of Anna’s mouth, tongue licking over her palate, the backs of her molars. Anna burns with it, it’s not enough, it’s never enough. She wants - something nameless, she wants every possibility, and every one of them, she wants Dean’s dick in her mouth, and Ruby inside her, she wants Sam under the wide press of her hands, holding him down. She needs it, to seal the empty space the light occupies inside her, the empty space she’s had for as many millennia as she can remember.
Dean pushes into Ruby, slow, and Anna watches all of them, together, moves up to kiss into Sam’s mouth, and searches for absolution in the wet, broad coil of his smile.
~
You still with me baby? Okay. What? Yeah, I know this story is mostly gratuitous sex, so what?
You wanna hear the rest or not? Yeah? Well, then. Shut your bloody pie-hole.
They're comin’ down now, maybe, for short stretches of time, the heat leaving their bodies in fits and starts. The powder the witch had thrown is startin’ to lose its potency, and their heartbeats slow, slow, slow as the pulsating light of it leaves them.
Dean no longer feels as though he’s gonna split apart at the seams, whole body consumed in an explosion of sunlight, heat, and cinnamon. But, yeah, he can taste it still, and knows it’s not yet over. (Even after the marathon orgy these four had just run. Darlin’, don’t I know it. That’s what happens when y’all have got supernatural stamina and a shot of sex pollen, I guess.)
Lemme just paint this picture for you; all four of ‘em lyin’ there, bare-assed naked, every single body slick and sheened with sweat, dried semen scratchy on stomaches and thighs and the curve of every spine, the whole of room smelling like sex and musk. Shit. I’m turnin’ myself on.
Anyways, "Fuck," Dean groans, sprawled out on his stomach, his bare arse red and slapped sore (Ruby), scratches all down the long line of his back (Anna), bite marks sucked into the crease where his thighs meet his bum (Sam). "She got us."
"You think?" Sam says, too fucked out to be caustic, a smile tugging at the side of his mouth. And lookit there, hon; Anna and Ruby are slumped in a pile together on the opposite end of the rug, rubbin’ against each other slow and careful. Obviously they've started up again. (Anna is makin’ the little moan in the back of her throat that Sam's realised is the one she makes every time she’s entered; a full body shiver plays accompaniment.)
"We gotta -" Dean says.
"Yeah," Sam says.
Neither of ‘em move to get up from their positions spreadeagled on the debauched Persian rug. Instead, they curl a little closer together, heads tucked in, and breathe each other’s air. Sam reaches out and strokes the corner of Dean’s mouth where it’s red and used with his thumb; Dean calls him a pussy.
Another while later - an hour, mebbe two, wherein Dean gives it up like the greedy little cock-slut we all know he is - Sam finally perks his head up once more, stretchin’. “Man," he says, a little more lucid, heat seeming to drip from out of his limbs and into the carpet, "fuck, I needed that."
Dean laughs, but his hand is already creepin’ out to curl about the length of Sam's dick once more, which, red, and swollen, is already awake again, lyin’ close against his stomach. "Sam," he says, and swallows the rest down, before he can choke it out.
"We're gonna talk about it, Dean," Sam says, flippin’ over to lie on top of him, his beautiful brother all stretched out beneath his body, green eyes wide and flicking away from his to the girls, and back again. Obviously not wantin’ to meet Sam's eyes. (Apparently incest is wrong in some states - I know darlin’, who’d’ve guessed? What’s that? Every state? What the fu- )
Sam kisses Dean with all the conviction he’s had for five years, and before that, what feels like his whole life, all of it revolvin’ around this man, right here. "Just, not right now," he smirks, and thrusts down once more against Dean, feeling full at last.
~end
Author: *raises hand, guiltily*
Characters, Pairings: Its just a big Dean/Sam/Anna/Ruby foursome pwp, aiight? Go with it.
Rating: NC-17 (triple x size)
Word Count: 4,666 .aka. 8pages of porn.
Summary: There's this witch. And she's evil. And then there's the sex pollen.
Warnings: Abuse of Persian rugs, foursomes, orgies, explicit sex scenes, sex pollen fic. Swearing. The whole caboodle. Dirty, dirty porn.
Notes: ALL FOR YOU, scorpiod1 !! Originally meant to be a comment fic for her five_acts, it kinda mutated. So. Blame her. Not me. (Damn enabler.) Title from Snow Patrol lyrics, The Lightning Strike: What If This Storm Ends (i), The Sunlight Through The Flags (ii), Daybreak (iii). (AKA SIXTEEN MINUTES OF AWESOME THAT I HAD ON REPEAT.) Looked over for me by the insanely lovely familiardevil, thanks hon!!
Lemme tell you a story, okay baby? Aiight.
So.
There's this witch.
She's nasty, like, always snacking on babies as though they were candy corn - or maybe its kittens? Whatever! They are so interchangeable. The point is, she totally likes to chow down on things that are cute and innocent, with huge, dewy eyes. Obviously she’s evil.
In any case, our boys have to go and kill her, seeing as how they found all these suspicious deaths in the town’s obits, and they all led back to her. (Not to mention the kitten/baby-boneyard.) Still, it's kinda sad, 'coz she's hot like the burn of a California sun, and Dean fell a little in love with her wicked brown eyes on first meeting.
It was somethin’ about her perfume, he thinks, somewhat wistful, before shoving it out of his mind. Because, hey, whatever. Job’s a job. Witch’s a witch. And Dean, well. Dean really hates witches.
The boys've got an angel and a demon ridin' in the backseat - Ruby 'coz she's a'wantin' to dig through the witch's magical hodgepodge for anything of use when she’s rolled over dead, and Anna 'coz she needs the witch's soul for a spell later on down the track.
Truthfully, Sam doesn't know which motive is more disturbing.
What’s that?
Dean?
Eh. He doesn’t really care, so long as Ruby doesn’t get her supernatural cooties all over his girl. (Anna’s already been there, done that.)
Anyways, this witch. I told you she’s evil, right? Yeah, well, when our heroes (and heroines, right, sorry) show up locked and loaded for bear, there she is with a big ol’ smile, sweet as green apples. Waitin’ for ‘em.
She’s standin’ on the staircase with her fingers crooked and her head cocked, Latin streaming from her lips in a sinuous flow. Finishes that up with them all standin’ there in the foyer, mouths agape and thumbs stuck up where the sun ain’t shinin’, ‘coz they’ve all been caught in a sticky sort of webbed-time spell; then she’s lobbing a ball of spice and flowers over their heads.
It explodes into this sparkly yellow powder at a single word, and she - coverin’ her nose and mouth with one hand - runs into another room with a tinkly little laugh.
What did I tell you? Totally evil bitch.
~
The smell of cinnamon and red roses and something weirder, crackly, like sunlight, is soaking’ into the air, Dean’s pores, his face, making his head spin and his heart pound in the base of his wrists. The big vein in his neck.
He tries not to breathe it in - a lost cause ‘coz he can feel the glittering cloud settle like dust in his hair, his lungs, in his nose and fuck,, he mustn’t have closed his gaping mouth in time ‘coz he can even taste it.
And, hey, he’s already breathed it in enough that tasting it, rolling his tongue against the roof his mouth and swallowing it down to get more, more, more of the intoxicating flavour won’t matter much, right? Why shouldn’t he? Just a little? Just a bit.
It tastes - it tastes like cinnamon and honey, smoky sweet, burning a trail over his tongue and down his throat, lower, lower, fuck, filling him all up with this urgency that his body can barely contain. Expanding all throughout him to his fingertips, his toes. His skin feels too small, too tight and overheated, and god, god, the dust tastes so good in his mouth, like liquid light.
And suddenly, killing a witch doesn’t seem so urgent anymore, and actually, hey - Anna and Sam are making out.
Anna’s got her legs all wrapped up tight around Sam’s waist, and his big hands are spanning the entirety of her arse, fingers digging in. She’s clutching at his hair, pulling, and Dean watches as Sam slips his head back with a moan, throat exposed, for her to bite the white skin, and mark it all up with her teeth. Her hair’s falling into Sam’s face like fire, brushing his cheekbones.
“Shit,” Dean curses, and his voice sounds faraway. Watching, ‘coz, oh god, he wants to touch, - the arching poetry of Anna’s spine, and the steel bands of muscle in Sam’s arms, his legs, planted and steady. He wants to bite the tendon in his brother’s neck, he wants to line himself up against Sam’s back and lay his hands on familiar hips, kiss the nape of Sam’s neck where his hair curls sweetly into his skin.
God, he wants it, wants it, he wants it all ten times more’n he usually does, Sam, the endless need baking him from the inside out, flushing his cheeks red, his lips parted and shining wet. Sam, god. It’s always been Sam, for Dean.
He blinks and then, all unexpected-like, he’s got Ruby’s hands creeping into the fabric over his stomach, her warm breath on his shoulder blade, moist and sulphuric. “Shit,” Dean says again, lower. His voice resembles something that’d been recently hauled over gravel.
“Hey there, sailor,” Ruby purrs, and it’s almost comical, it would be stupid but for the way even her touch twists the tension tighter in his gut, and yeah - cheese always works for Dean. He leans back into her hands, grabbing at her wrists, and turns his head over his shoulder so’s she can bite at his mouth, teeth sharp on his flesh.
Dean can’t think why he’s never gone here with a demon. He can’t think. Can’t think. Can’t - ‘coz Ruby feels just like any other woman, her breasts soft and full, straining against his back, and she’s biting at his earlobe, pulling it into the damp heat of her mouth.
For Dean its crazy-good, just watching as Sam and Anna devour each other, Anna’s hands scratching at Sam’s back, rutting her hips up against him. Sam’s groans echoing in the foyer, bouncing back off the hall mirror, and the crappy retro painting of a bowl of fruit. Just feeling as Ruby’s red-painted nails slither under his shirt and scritch at the soft flesh of his belly as they’re goin’ down. One small hand covers his denim-trapped dick, and squeezes.
Oh, oh, and Dean’s hard and leaking at the tip already, wet spot soaking through his briefs (always briefs, on a hunt) and his jeans. Then Sam’s taking two wobbling, coltish steps over, coiling a hand around the back of Dean’s neck and bringing his face up close to crush their mouths together.
Sam’s licking into Dean’s mouth, all tongue and teeth, no subtlety; sucking on his bottom lip like it’s all he ever wanted in the world. And Dean? Baby, Dean’s keeping his eyes open ‘coz he doesn’t wanna miss a second of this.
He feels like his skin is burning up, filled to bursting of heat and light and Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. His heart is beating so fast, he feels it everywhere, the backs of his knees, in his mouth, everywhere he and Sam are touching. Can’t seem to stop moaning, panting, grabbing on to the sides of Sam’s over-shirt and clinging tight, refusing to let go, or pause, or think, reeling him in as close as possible with Anna still clutched between their bodies. Dean feels desperate, greedy, his whole body heavy and lush with heat, his dick swollen and leaking pre-cum all over his thigh.
Then Anna - still stuck like a limpet to Sam’s waist, shirt lost and bra straps falling down her arms - bends to the side, bends down to press her lips to where Ruby’s angled up her red, red mouth for a kiss. Ruby, who’s skipped ahead of them and stripped naked, all heavy, rounded breasts and waving dark hair, eyes glazed over black with her lust.
The inside of Ruby’s slim thighs are all slippery - Dean can see it, shit - and she’s got already a hand curling’ into herself, not shy at all, fast and perfect, dirty-sweet. Dean can hear the filthy wet noises of her flesh, her whimpers swallowed up by Anna’s mouth; can see the stuttering of her hips into her own fingers and the slick dribbling down the inside of her wrist. He wants to bury his face in her cunt; wants to get her mess all over his face and make her beg for it. Make her beg him. Wants Sam to lick the taste of her off his nose, chin, tongue. Wants Sam to taste her on him, before all he can taste is Sam.
He wants to fuck her raw.
Dean leans in and licks the shell of Ruby’s ear, Sam a mirror image on her other side; he meets his brother’s eyes over her head as he bites at the delicate whorl and flicks his tongue.
Then, then, Ruby’s coming, back arching, jesus she’s loud, unabashedly so, Sam and Dean both pulling back to watch her come undone, with Sam’s big warm hand still cupping the curve of Dean’s skull. Anna’s plucking Ruby’s nipples like harp strings throughout, breathless, palming the fullness of her breasts, and the soft skin of her throat, eyes wide and hungry and all over Ruby’s skin.
The next thing that was worth focusing on, after a haze of jerked off pants and shirts, and Anna’s frenzied writhing at Ruby’s teeth worrying the underside of one pale breast, is this: Sam, the shape of his huge shoulders bent over Dean, and their bodies fused together at the hips, erections slotting together perfectly.
Dean grinds up as Sam grinds down, and fuck, approximately three seconds of that and he’s coming all over his own stomach and his brother’s dick, digging his nails into Sam’s bare arse the entire time. Breaths pulled in harshly through his open mouth, and all Dean can taste is the shimmering cinnamon-rose powder on the meat of Sam’s shoulder, the taste of burning honey, and Sam, Sam all over his tongue.
“Sam,” he’s saying, hoarse. He can’t remember when he started. He can’t find a reason to stop. “Sammy.”
Aftershocks of light and heat are spiking through his limbs, and Dean can still feel the sparkling lust deep in his belly, weaving through him, consuming him. He drags a hand over the come on his stomach, his chest, and then slides it lower to fist Sam’s cock, the whole length of him burning hot like a brand between Dean’s fingers. He's nowhere near satisfied; whole body feeling heavy with desire, and his dick already starting to twitch, refilling itself even as he watches Sam buck into his grip, throw his head back and groan, long and loud like he can’t help himself. The carpet of the foyer is burning the skin on his shoulder blades, but Dean can’t care. Barely notices.
Sam’s leaking all over Dean’s palm, and it’s not enough, Dean wants to taste him. Now. He flips them both over, fast, and kisses Sam’s gasping mouth, before moving down to where Sam’s dick lies curved into his stomach, leaving smears of pre-cum just under his bellybutton.
Dean wants to lay claim to every inch of Sam’s body, mark him up - the soft, fragile skin of his inner elbow, the heavy muscle of his thigh, the wavy little scar on his ribcage - but he needs everything too fast, and right now, needs it all at once. He’s never wanted anything as much as he wants Sam in his mouth right this second. So he ducks his head down to lave the soft head of Sam’s dick, pushes his forehead into Sam’s stomach and moans with him in tandem - salty sweetness coating his tongue, and fuck, he’s wanted this so long he can barely stand it, his whole skin stretching to encompass the sunlight bursting in his chest.
He stops fucking around, and puts his mouth on Sam’s cock, jesus, the head sliding over Dean’s tongue, so hot and wet. The taste of Sam in his mouth is intoxicating, crazy, making Dean's dick swell and pulse against the carpet, already impossibly hard again, rubbing and grinding and hurting - but so good. He tastes like salt and sweat and come, incredible, and Dean ducks his head down too fast, trying to get all of him in at once - choking on the size. Oh god, fuck, it doesn’t even matter when Sam's cock pops out to slap back wetly onto his belly, because he still wants it all, doesn’t even take a second out to get his breath back. Dean just cups it in his hand, mouths along the length of it, getting it all sloppy and wet with his tongue, scraping a little with his teeth because he's too far gone to be gentle.
Shit, fuck, he wants - he wants, he just wants, and he props Sam up in one hand, swallowing down what he can, dick sliding down deep into the back of his throat, Sam yelling his name over his head, nails scratching along Dean’s scalp as he thrusts up, careless and uneven into Dean’s mouth.
He can hear the girls next to them, Ruby face shoved between Anna's quivering thighs, and fuck, it's so hot, Anna's head tossing against the floor, strangling screams in her throat. And shit, she's clutching Ruby's hair between her fingers and writhing, bucking up, hips twisting away and back into Ruby's hands where she’s barely being held down. Dean can see Ruby’s tongue, just dipping in lazily to Anna's cunt, licking all along her folds and over her clit, the lewdest thing he's ever seen.
He bobs his head, dragging his tongue over the head of Sam's dick and meets Ruby's inked-over eyes as she licks delicately at Anna, both of them far gone and smirking - and then Sam's slipping out of his mouth again, pre-cum slurring over Dean's cheekbone and the side of his mouth before he comes with a shout, calves quaking where they’ve curled themselves around to cradle Dean's ribs.
~
Anna feels so hot and full it's like she's burning up - she's never felt anything like this heat before, stripping her limbs down to the bone, making her moan and scream and shout, her whole being consumed with shudders like her very body, her bones, are being pulled apart at the seams.
Ruby's got one hand gripped into her hip, nails pinching the tender skin, the other buried between her own thighs, and is finally sucking on Anna’s clit, fierce, relentless, her face and chin all wet with Anna's slick. Anna can't do anything but grind up into Ruby's tongue and fall apart, once, twice, three times maybe - it's ongoing, it won't stop, she keeps needing more, now, now. She wants all of Ruby, she wants anything this demon is willing to give her, wants to fill up the bare spaces inside with Ruby’s fingers, her tilted smile, the hungry look in her eyes, instead of this empty white light.
Then Ruby's climbing up her body, licking into her mouth, rubbing herself full-length against Anna. Anna wants to get her closer, so close that the heat melts them into each other, no difference in their shape - she wants to mark up every inch of Ruby’s skin with handprints and possess her.
Anna can feel where Ruby's soaking, right against her thigh, and she shoves it up to grind, Ruby throwing her head back with gritted teeth, black hair writhing on her bare, white shoulders. God, Anna can't stand it, can't stand just to watch her like this - so hot, so wanton, and she slides a hand down to Ruby's pussy, parting her folds and shoving her fingers up and in, two at once, gasping at the tight-wet-hot feel of Ruby clenching around her fingers, sucking her in up to the base of her third knuckles, greedy. She feels a flicker of triumph; this, this is everything she wants, and she’s just going to take it, she’s going to take Ruby, she’s going to own her.
Desperate, Ruby is thrusting down onto Anna's fingers, breasts swaying and bouncing with her motion, and Anna leans up, bites at a nipple when it brushes her mouth, licks and sucks, and tucks her face into the hollow of Ruby's chest, face sweaty and flushed. She can feel Ruby's stolen heart thudding, violent, against her forehead, and shit, she wants to taste it in her mouth, wants Ruby's life throbbing, pulsing against her tongue - fragile and hers alone. But Ruby's coming a second time, long and luxurious, screams echoing up to the ceiling.
They twist against each other, then twine together on their sides, Anna flinging a leg up over Ruby's thigh, trying to get close, closer, please, oh. Ruby's fingers sink into her, curling up and rubbing, and finding the place inside that shoots light through Anna’s veins, the heat gripping like tendrils in her guts, her fingers still pumping into Ruby, wanting to see her face, wanting her to come apart again for Anna. She wants to lay waste to this demon, wants the shaking line of her shoulders and the panting of every breath that tastes of damnation; she wants to make Ruby anew, just for her.
Then Dean - or Sam - or both of them, yes, it’s both of them Anna can see barely through the haze - are looming over the girls where they're clutched together, sweaty, heaving bodies. Dean leans over, kisses into Anna's mouth, thrusting his tongue. Anna can taste come there, Sam's - it must be, at the corner of Dean's mouth, on his chin, and opens her mouth to take more of it into her.
Sam's pushing his way in between the two girls, his huge body demanding, and Anna feels her fingers leave Ruby with a beautiful, carnal squelch, her hand slick with Ruby's mess all over her palm, all her fingers, and when Dean pulls away she sucks them into her mouth, a base instinct. Dean and Sam and Ruby's eyes are all on her as she licks between the digits and over her hand and wrist, eyes turned up in a knowing smile all the while.
Dean's big and hot, somewhat familiar pressed against the curve of her arse, his dick riding the crease. When he lifts her leg and slides into her, Anna throws her head back against his shoulder with a gasp, hair sticking to her face with sweat, watching as Sam picks Ruby up effortlessly and slides her onto him, her body curved over his and shaking, hands on his chest and thighs either side of his hips.
"Sam," Ruby groans, low, and Anna whines high in the back of her throat in answer, watching the exquisite picture that is Ruby and Sam, rutting like animals on a twelve thousand dollar Persian rug, Dean's dick filling her up so deep she could choke on it. It’s perfect.
Dean latches his teeth onto the side of her neck, tongue following to soothe the bite marks, and Anna just rocks back into him, his arm curved around her waist. One hand cups her breast, kneading it, rolling the nipple between thumb and fingers as they watch Sam and Ruby reach climax together again - one following the other over like they're falling off a cliff, both loud and shameless in their desire.
Fuck, fuck, Anna thinks, when Ruby meets her eyes, and she's coming - again, shit, like a lava bubble bursting in the middle of her body, sweeping through her frame and taking over, the taste of blood and honey in her mouth. Dean shudders against her with a soft, breathless grunt into her hair, and stills. "Sam," he's saying into the hair behind her ear, and Anna understands completely. The name on the tip of her tongue's is not his, no, even as his dick twitches with life inside her, not having the decency to go soft for even a second after spilling into her core.
Anna shakes, still unsatisfied; she needs more, she needs everything, she doesn’t know how to stop.
Dean’s dick pulses with his heart and Anna can feel it the beat of it both inside her and against her back, the whole of her over-sensitised and breathless. She closes her eyes, bites her bottom lip, trying to find some sort of peace from this chaos inside, and then he's pulling out and climbing over Anna on his hands and knees, kissing into Sam's mouth again. "I want -" he's whispering, "Sammy, I want you to fuck me," and Sam's groaning, because Ruby's still twisting herself down against his cock, reaching urgently for another orgasm, this one arriving with a helpless little hiccup, her cheeks flushed red, half-closed eyes dark as pitch. “Later,” he says, and even Anna shudders at that, at the dark promise his voice is laden with.
Anna wants nothing more than to slide in behind Ruby and taste where she and Sam are joined, or maybe sit on Sam's rippling stomach muscles, her front pressed to Ruby’s, and kiss her wide, perfect red mouth, the hinge of her jaw, her breasts. But then Dean's kneeling in behind where Ruby is, between Sam's spread thighs, and frantically pulling her head back by the hair, kissing into her mouth, whispering something in her ear that makes her keen and nod her head, fast and unsteady.
"Yeah, Dean," Ruby's saying, and her voice sounds broken, shredded up. "Come on, fuck me, do it," and Dean bends her over Sam, and crooks a finger at Anna from where she's lying, a hand having crept back between her own thighs, keeping her full.
"Come here, Anna," he says, low, and she crawls over, trembling. "Here,” he whispers, rough, into the shell of her ear, his fingers slipping along the groove of Ruby’s arse, down to where she and Sam are one. “I want you to lick her, stretch her out, so I can fuck her too," and Ruby's mewling at this, Sam's legs are quivering, and Dean just smirks at her, easy, easy. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing to all of them. Anna moans.
"Yeah," she says, as though she’d had to be convinced, and bends down to where Ruby and Sam are joined - she can see his big dick just disappearing endlessly into the swollen pink core of her, can hear the dirty wet sounds of their bodies slapping together - not stopping even for a second.
Ruby doesn't need Anna to lick her cunt, Anna can see Sam's come dribbling out from inside her and spreading onto his high, tight balls, she can see all of Ruby's slick sliding around on her thighs and Sam's, and fuck, Anna doesn't care - she wants to taste, now, now.
She bends her head down, curves her neck, pushes her tongue up to where she can feel Ruby's slit, stretched wide around Sam's dick, and moans into it, the taste of them mixing together on her tongue. Slides a finger in beside it, and can feel the clenching of Ruby’s inner walls about her, the smooth, pulsing length of Sam’s dick. Fits another up inside as Ruby makes a high sound in the back of her throat and Dean shushes her, takes her noises into his mouth and swallows them down.
Anna can feel Dean watching her even as he kisses Ruby, watching her eat them both, Sam’s dick gliding against her tongue as he thrusts up, and up again. The way Ruby’s shaking around both of them, sopping wet and so obviously ready. Anna moves back, and licks her mouth, voice thready as she nods at Dean, says, “Now.”
“Wait,” Dean says, “let me -” and he’s kissing the taste of Sam and Ruby out of Anna’s mouth, tongue licking over her palate, the backs of her molars. Anna burns with it, it’s not enough, it’s never enough. She wants - something nameless, she wants every possibility, and every one of them, she wants Dean’s dick in her mouth, and Ruby inside her, she wants Sam under the wide press of her hands, holding him down. She needs it, to seal the empty space the light occupies inside her, the empty space she’s had for as many millennia as she can remember.
Dean pushes into Ruby, slow, and Anna watches all of them, together, moves up to kiss into Sam’s mouth, and searches for absolution in the wet, broad coil of his smile.
~
You still with me baby? Okay. What? Yeah, I know this story is mostly gratuitous sex, so what?
You wanna hear the rest or not? Yeah? Well, then. Shut your bloody pie-hole.
They're comin’ down now, maybe, for short stretches of time, the heat leaving their bodies in fits and starts. The powder the witch had thrown is startin’ to lose its potency, and their heartbeats slow, slow, slow as the pulsating light of it leaves them.
Dean no longer feels as though he’s gonna split apart at the seams, whole body consumed in an explosion of sunlight, heat, and cinnamon. But, yeah, he can taste it still, and knows it’s not yet over. (Even after the marathon orgy these four had just run. Darlin’, don’t I know it. That’s what happens when y’all have got supernatural stamina and a shot of sex pollen, I guess.)
Lemme just paint this picture for you; all four of ‘em lyin’ there, bare-assed naked, every single body slick and sheened with sweat, dried semen scratchy on stomaches and thighs and the curve of every spine, the whole of room smelling like sex and musk. Shit. I’m turnin’ myself on.
Anyways, "Fuck," Dean groans, sprawled out on his stomach, his bare arse red and slapped sore (Ruby), scratches all down the long line of his back (Anna), bite marks sucked into the crease where his thighs meet his bum (Sam). "She got us."
"You think?" Sam says, too fucked out to be caustic, a smile tugging at the side of his mouth. And lookit there, hon; Anna and Ruby are slumped in a pile together on the opposite end of the rug, rubbin’ against each other slow and careful. Obviously they've started up again. (Anna is makin’ the little moan in the back of her throat that Sam's realised is the one she makes every time she’s entered; a full body shiver plays accompaniment.)
"We gotta -" Dean says.
"Yeah," Sam says.
Neither of ‘em move to get up from their positions spreadeagled on the debauched Persian rug. Instead, they curl a little closer together, heads tucked in, and breathe each other’s air. Sam reaches out and strokes the corner of Dean’s mouth where it’s red and used with his thumb; Dean calls him a pussy.
Another while later - an hour, mebbe two, wherein Dean gives it up like the greedy little cock-slut we all know he is - Sam finally perks his head up once more, stretchin’. “Man," he says, a little more lucid, heat seeming to drip from out of his limbs and into the carpet, "fuck, I needed that."
Dean laughs, but his hand is already creepin’ out to curl about the length of Sam's dick once more, which, red, and swollen, is already awake again, lyin’ close against his stomach. "Sam," he says, and swallows the rest down, before he can choke it out.
"We're gonna talk about it, Dean," Sam says, flippin’ over to lie on top of him, his beautiful brother all stretched out beneath his body, green eyes wide and flicking away from his to the girls, and back again. Obviously not wantin’ to meet Sam's eyes. (Apparently incest is wrong in some states - I know darlin’, who’d’ve guessed? What’s that? Every state? What the fu- )
Sam kisses Dean with all the conviction he’s had for five years, and before that, what feels like his whole life, all of it revolvin’ around this man, right here. "Just, not right now," he smirks, and thrusts down once more against Dean, feeling full at last.
~end