She Comes When You Call, Supernatural Crack!Fic, NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: She Comes When You Call
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean, OFC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1026
Summary: I blame wandereringray for reminding me about this cracked out whore of a plot bunny. I was delirious when it came to me...and had successfully evaded it until this afternoon. So...Dean brings Sam home a present.
A/Ns & Warnings; Complete CRACK! AU & MaryJanes got nothing on this. Nothing. Don't look at me like that!
“Hey Sam?”
Sam doesn’t look up from the computer, despite the tone in his brother’s voice. “Yeah?”
“I got you something while I was out.”
“I hope its coffee. The heat’s out and I’m freezing.”
“Better than coffee.”
Now Sam has to look up, raising an eyebrow. Dean’s leaning against the open door, letting more cold air into the room. “For god’s sake Dean, close the door.”
Dean’s face looks like he’s really proud of himself, his hands behind his back. Sam sighs. “I don’t want a hooker Dean.”
“Not a hooker.” Dean says, stepping now into the room. He tugs a little and Sam cranes his neck to see there’s a leather leash in his brother’s hands.
“We don’t have the room for a pet, Dean.”
“Not a pet…well, not exactly.” He’s beaming as a woman enters the room on the end of the leash, her eyes downcast, her demeanor subdued.
“Dean?” Sam’s standing, moving closer, ready to thrash his brother. “What is this?”
Dean reaches and closes the door. “A writer.” His grin is broad. “On a leash.”
“A writer?” Sam asks, looking her over. She’s short, curvaceous. Red hair hangs mostly straight just past her shoulders. She looks up when she feels his eyes and offers him a tentative smile. “A writer.”
Dean nods. “On a leash.”
There’s a collar around her neck, the end of the leash threaded through the D-ring at the center. “Why do you have a writer on a leash Dean?”
“For you….well, for us. So we can do…you know…the stuff the others won’t let us do.”
Sam’s eyes narrow. “Is this about that thing last week?”
Dean’s eyes are dancing. “Don’t tell me you don’t want more.”
Sam wasn’t sure, truth be told. The whole thing had been confusing. Hot as hell, but most of the time they weren’t allowed to touch, let alone hug. To find himself pressed up against an alley wall with Dean’s mouth wrapped around his cock had been a surprise.
“Why don’t you go show him, baby?” Dean says, unhooking the leash and pointing her toward the computer.
“Hey-“
“Trust me Sammy.”
The woman sits demurely at the table, crossing her ankles and setting her fingers to the keyboard. Her eyes skim the room, then she begins typing. Before Sam is entirely sure what’s going on, he’s across the room, kissing Dean. His cock stirs to life, pressing hard and hot against his jeans as Dean’s hands pull his shirt off. “Dean?”
Dean’s lips are on his neck, one hand on Sam’s cock. “Just go with it.” Dean whispers.
The only sound in the room is the typing and their harsh breathing as Sam’s jeans fall to the floor and he stumbles into Dean. Then Dean’s on one knee, Sam’s cock in his mouth and Sam is ready, just like that to come.
But the typing stops. Just stops. “Fuck.” They both turn to look at the woman, who shrugs.
“Should I…continue?” she asks, her voice soft in the silence of the room.
“Holy Fuck, yes, you should continue.” Dean says.
Sam, however, steps back, his cock hanging in the air in front of him. He crosses to the woman and leans over her, reading the couple of paragraphs she’s typed. “Dude…she typed that…and we did that.”
Dean grins up at him from the floor. “Beats the hell out of those other guys, right?”
“Where did you find her? How?”
“She found me Sammy. Asked me if she could…you know…belong to us…”
“And you didn’t find that strange?” Sam asks, suddenly aware of his naked proximity to a woman he didn’t know.
“I find a lot of things strange, but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth Sam. Just think…with her, we get to touch…kiss…” Both eyebrows lift. “Fuck.”
Sam looks at the woman and she nods. “I would be honored,” she says.
“The whole brother thing doesn’t bother you?”
She shakes her head, blushing prettily. “Actually…its kind of a turn on.”
“A turn on?” Sam shakes his head now. “And what do you get out of this arrangement?”
“I get to watch.” She blushes nearly as red as her hair. “Maybe…more…?”
“I’d do her.” Dean says, getting up off the floor.
Sam rolls his eyes. “Yeah, no surprise there.”
The woman stands now. “If you don’t want me…I can go.”
“No. Stop.” Dean says. “Sit your pretty self down. You’re gonna write it so me and Sammy get to come. You’re gonna write us fucking each other like crazy on this bed….and when we’re too sore to move anymore, we’ll talk about how this is gonna work.”
Dean’s already taking his clothes off and pushing Sam toward the bed. The woman sits back at the computer and starts writing. Sam falls to the bed, rolling onto his stomach as Dean approaches…and Sam doesn't know where the lube came from, but suddenly Dean is rubbing it into his ass, easing him open with two fingers. He tucks his knees under him, lifting his ass toward his brother who is busy slicking up his hard dick.
The sound of typing is frantic, fingers flying over the laptop keyboard, as Dean’s cock breaches Sam’s ass and they both groan. It burns, and Sam almost comes when Dean brushes against his prostate. “God. Dean.”
“Hold on baby.” Dean whispers against the skin of his back and he starts thrusting into Sam. His hand snakes around Sam to pull on his cock in time with his own, and Sam is shoving back onto him, grunting as he nears orgasm.
“Dean!” Just like that Sam comes, and Dean isn'tfar behind, pulling out to shoot come over Sam’s ass. They fall to the bed together, panting and staring at the woman who is rocking on the chair, her eyes glassy, her mouth open as she breathes erratically.
“This is the best part.” Dean whispers in Sam’s ear. “Amara.” Dean says, in his best, fucked-out voice, throaty and dark. She shudders, her eyes closed. Sam looks at Dean in question and Dean grins, leaning in to his brother. “She comes when you call her.”
Title: She Comes When You Call
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean, OFC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1026
Summary: I blame wandereringray for reminding me about this cracked out whore of a plot bunny. I was delirious when it came to me...and had successfully evaded it until this afternoon. So...Dean brings Sam home a present.
A/Ns & Warnings; Complete CRACK! AU & MaryJanes got nothing on this. Nothing. Don't look at me like that!
“Hey Sam?”
Sam doesn’t look up from the computer, despite the tone in his brother’s voice. “Yeah?”
“I got you something while I was out.”
“I hope its coffee. The heat’s out and I’m freezing.”
“Better than coffee.”
Now Sam has to look up, raising an eyebrow. Dean’s leaning against the open door, letting more cold air into the room. “For god’s sake Dean, close the door.”
Dean’s face looks like he’s really proud of himself, his hands behind his back. Sam sighs. “I don’t want a hooker Dean.”
“Not a hooker.” Dean says, stepping now into the room. He tugs a little and Sam cranes his neck to see there’s a leather leash in his brother’s hands.
“We don’t have the room for a pet, Dean.”
“Not a pet…well, not exactly.” He’s beaming as a woman enters the room on the end of the leash, her eyes downcast, her demeanor subdued.
“Dean?” Sam’s standing, moving closer, ready to thrash his brother. “What is this?”
Dean reaches and closes the door. “A writer.” His grin is broad. “On a leash.”
“A writer?” Sam asks, looking her over. She’s short, curvaceous. Red hair hangs mostly straight just past her shoulders. She looks up when she feels his eyes and offers him a tentative smile. “A writer.”
Dean nods. “On a leash.”
There’s a collar around her neck, the end of the leash threaded through the D-ring at the center. “Why do you have a writer on a leash Dean?”
“For you….well, for us. So we can do…you know…the stuff the others won’t let us do.”
Sam’s eyes narrow. “Is this about that thing last week?”
Dean’s eyes are dancing. “Don’t tell me you don’t want more.”
Sam wasn’t sure, truth be told. The whole thing had been confusing. Hot as hell, but most of the time they weren’t allowed to touch, let alone hug. To find himself pressed up against an alley wall with Dean’s mouth wrapped around his cock had been a surprise.
“Why don’t you go show him, baby?” Dean says, unhooking the leash and pointing her toward the computer.
“Hey-“
“Trust me Sammy.”
The woman sits demurely at the table, crossing her ankles and setting her fingers to the keyboard. Her eyes skim the room, then she begins typing. Before Sam is entirely sure what’s going on, he’s across the room, kissing Dean. His cock stirs to life, pressing hard and hot against his jeans as Dean’s hands pull his shirt off. “Dean?”
Dean’s lips are on his neck, one hand on Sam’s cock. “Just go with it.” Dean whispers.
The only sound in the room is the typing and their harsh breathing as Sam’s jeans fall to the floor and he stumbles into Dean. Then Dean’s on one knee, Sam’s cock in his mouth and Sam is ready, just like that to come.
But the typing stops. Just stops. “Fuck.” They both turn to look at the woman, who shrugs.
“Should I…continue?” she asks, her voice soft in the silence of the room.
“Holy Fuck, yes, you should continue.” Dean says.
Sam, however, steps back, his cock hanging in the air in front of him. He crosses to the woman and leans over her, reading the couple of paragraphs she’s typed. “Dude…she typed that…and we did that.”
Dean grins up at him from the floor. “Beats the hell out of those other guys, right?”
“Where did you find her? How?”
“She found me Sammy. Asked me if she could…you know…belong to us…”
“And you didn’t find that strange?” Sam asks, suddenly aware of his naked proximity to a woman he didn’t know.
“I find a lot of things strange, but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth Sam. Just think…with her, we get to touch…kiss…” Both eyebrows lift. “Fuck.”
Sam looks at the woman and she nods. “I would be honored,” she says.
“The whole brother thing doesn’t bother you?”
She shakes her head, blushing prettily. “Actually…its kind of a turn on.”
“A turn on?” Sam shakes his head now. “And what do you get out of this arrangement?”
“I get to watch.” She blushes nearly as red as her hair. “Maybe…more…?”
“I’d do her.” Dean says, getting up off the floor.
Sam rolls his eyes. “Yeah, no surprise there.”
The woman stands now. “If you don’t want me…I can go.”
“No. Stop.” Dean says. “Sit your pretty self down. You’re gonna write it so me and Sammy get to come. You’re gonna write us fucking each other like crazy on this bed….and when we’re too sore to move anymore, we’ll talk about how this is gonna work.”
Dean’s already taking his clothes off and pushing Sam toward the bed. The woman sits back at the computer and starts writing. Sam falls to the bed, rolling onto his stomach as Dean approaches…and Sam doesn't know where the lube came from, but suddenly Dean is rubbing it into his ass, easing him open with two fingers. He tucks his knees under him, lifting his ass toward his brother who is busy slicking up his hard dick.
The sound of typing is frantic, fingers flying over the laptop keyboard, as Dean’s cock breaches Sam’s ass and they both groan. It burns, and Sam almost comes when Dean brushes against his prostate. “God. Dean.”
“Hold on baby.” Dean whispers against the skin of his back and he starts thrusting into Sam. His hand snakes around Sam to pull on his cock in time with his own, and Sam is shoving back onto him, grunting as he nears orgasm.
“Dean!” Just like that Sam comes, and Dean isn'tfar behind, pulling out to shoot come over Sam’s ass. They fall to the bed together, panting and staring at the woman who is rocking on the chair, her eyes glassy, her mouth open as she breathes erratically.
“This is the best part.” Dean whispers in Sam’s ear. “Amara.” Dean says, in his best, fucked-out voice, throaty and dark. She shudders, her eyes closed. Sam looks at Dean in question and Dean grins, leaning in to his brother. “She comes when you call her.”