Loaded Smiles - Sam/Dean/OFC - NC-17
Title: Loaded Smiles
Author: ChimeraBlack
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean/OFC
Rating: NC-17 (Just to be safe.)
Summary: Sam checks on Dean while John is on a hunt and gets a bit of a surprise.
Warnings: Underage (Sam is about 16). Het. Slash. Incest. Language.
A/N: A Summer Sammich fic. Title from Mouth by Bush. I may just have to write a sequel to this minus the Misty. It was my first time writing anything close to smut or het. Let's see how it goes.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Sam orDean. I just like to bring them out to play.
John was heading out that morning on a routine hunt. “Nothing to worry about. Simple haunting. The spirit’s not malevolent, just really, really damn annoying according to this guy. I’ll be back in a few days. Make sure Sam gets to school on time, and don’t forget to lock up if you go anywhere.”
Dean went back into the room he shared with Sam and gave him a nudge with his foot. Sam stirred, but didn‘t quite wake. So Dean tried again, this time with a hard smack to Sam’s ass. “What the fuck, Dean? I’m trying to sleep.”
“Good morning to you too, sunshine. Dad left. He said make sure you get to school on time. There’s money on the table for your lunch. I’m going back to sleep. Don’t wake me unless you’d like to be killed. Unless it’s an emergency and you actually are being killed. Then you really gotta wake me up because that’s something I’d like to see.”
“Bastard.” Dean dodged the pillow launched at his head.
“Love you too, Sammy. Go back to sleep. You still have an hour before breakfast.”
Dean woke up again at around noon. At least the light in the room made it look like noon. It could have been earlier or later, he didn’t really know. None of the clocks worked, and he couldn’t remember where he put his watch. Not that time mattered much on a day full of nothing.
He went into the kitchen to fix himself breakfast - or lunch…whatever - and get a start on the dishes. Sam was always on him about not doing any work around the house. Maybe Sam would finally shut up if he did laundry or something.
Or put his mouth to better use.
“Shut up. I just want Sam off my back.”
And on his?
“I said shut up!”
When Sam got home, he wasn’t even sure he’d walked into the right house. So he went back outside, stared at the numbers on the door, then came back in. It was the right place, alright, but it seemed odd. Different. Something was definitely, definitely wrong with this picture. Their house was clean. Something it hadn’t been since they’d first moved in. And even that was shot to hell within a week.
It was a fact that seventy five percent of all messes in the Winchester household were Dean’s fault, so there’s no way the cleanliness was his doing. Unless he’d been possessed by an obsessive compulsive demon. He hadn’t…had he? Better go check just to be safe. Though a new, neat freak, demon Dean might be an improvement over the old, lazy, sloppy Dean.
Sam went down the hall to their room. He didn’t even bother knocking when he went in. It was his room too, after all. Then again, it might have been a good idea because he’s pretty sure this wasn’t something he was supposed to see.
It was the most strangely magnetic thing he’d ever seen. Dean was sprawled out on his bed, nothing but boxers on, arm tucked behind his head casually. And there was this grin on his face Sam had never seen before. But Sam supposed he’d be grinning like that too if he’d had a half-naked woman straddling his lap.
The girl was very petite with small, round breasts and not much hip, her auburn hair cropped too short to do anything for her modesty. This surprised Sam because he’d only ever seen Dean drool over sassy, blond girls with giant racks. But Dean didn’t seem to mind the girl one bit.
She was grinding slow circles into his lap. She gave a throaty giggle whenever a sharp jerk of her hips caused him to groan. Every single time she did that, Dean would dig his fingers into her hips and she’d work the circles a bit harder, a bit faster.
Her grinding stopped, and she turned right around to face Sam. Her eyes gleamed mischievously. “Enjoying the show, sweetie?”
Dean sat up so fast the poor girl nearly tumbled right off his lap. “Dammit, Sammy! Don’t you ever knock?”
“Relax, Dean. It’s not like he’s hurting anyone.”
“Oh, he’ll be hurting alright. Get the fuck out before I kick your ass, Sam.”
“Aw, c’mon, Dean. He’s kinda cute. Maybe he could…join us.”
“No! No. Out of the question. Absolutely not.”
“What’s the matter, Dean? Don’t feel like sharing me?”
No, I don’t feel like sharing him. “That’s not it.”
“Then what?”
“He’s my little brother! He’s sixteen! That’s like, five different kinds of fucked up, Misty!”
“I don’t know about that. He seemed to like watching a whole lot. Maybe he’d like participating even more.”
“Ok, you know what? Fine. If he wants to, fine. Whatever. I still think it’s fucked up, but someone needs to finish what you started, Misty. If you weren’t such a fucking tease, we’d probably already be done.“
“You know you love it, Dean. So, how ‘bout it, Sam? You feel like giving it a go?”
“Dean, if you don’t want me to, I…”
“Hurry up, Sam. I’m not gonna wait all fucking day for an answer. I’m horny and pissed off, and that is not a good combination. Yes or no?”
“Al..alright.”
Misty grinned wickedly and purred, “That’s more like it! C‘mere, cutie.”
She stood at the foot of the bed and pulled Sam toward her, hitching up his shirt as she went. Sam stood there awkwardly as Misty unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down over his hips. He was painfully aware of his arousal when she’d gotten off his boxers. His skin prickled, but he wasn’t sure if it was the chill of the air or the flush of his embarrassment. He was exposed and vulnerable. He wanted to cry, to run away to be anywhere but here. But the smoldering look in Dean’s eyes made his cock twitch, and he thanked every god to ever exist that he was here.
Misty pushed him gently until the backs of his legs hit the mattress, forcing him to sit on the bed as she straddled his lap. The lace of her panties grazed his cock, and he bucked up into her, wanting more friction. She brought his face to hers and kissed him deeply, licking at his lips to give her entrance. Sam kissed back sloppy and unsure. He’d only ever kissed Crystal, a neighbor they had about four years ago, but that was nothing like this.
Sam mewled helplessly when she took his cock in her hand and gave it long, slow strokes. He tilted his head back, eyes fluttering shut when she brushed her thumb over the slit. She never stroked harder or faster, not even when Sam bucked or made disapproving grunts. Dean was right. The girl’s a tease.
Dean pretty much gave in at that moment and resigned himself to riding the special bus to Hell. Because nothing that he’d ever seen in his life looked better than Sam did at that moment. He was all sweat-sheened skin and tense limbs. And he kept running his tongue over his lips, his brow knitted in frustration at the languid pace Misty had set. He was sin incarnate. Or maybe an angel, he didn’t know. But fuck if his brother didn’t look amazing right then. Yes, he was definitely going to Hell.
Misty stood up and slipped out of her underwear, making a show of it by wiggling her ass. It wasn’t until she’d pressed Sam back onto the mattress and climbed on top of him that Dean figured out what she was doing.
Hell no! I'm not letting you take my baby brother’s virginity!
“Misty, wait!”
“Hm?”
“I… I think this sort of thing is always first come, first serve, right? So, uh...”
“Your brother’s getting antsy, Sam. Think I should take care of him? Or should I…”
The rest trailed off into a whisper in Sam’s ear, and Dean couldn’t hear a word. But he wished he could have when Sam let out this sort of whimpery moan and closed his eyes.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “You like that idea, don’t you? I bet Dean’s gonna like it too.”
She pulled Sam down onto the floor with her and began mouthing his ear.
“Come over and sit with us, Dean.” She patted a spot on the bed just in front of Sam. She had an evil smirk on. It looked so unnatural on her elven face but so right with her devilish side.
Dean pulled himself up and sat at the edge of the bed where she’d told him to. Then she went back to whispering in Sam’s ear again. He thought maybe she was giving him instructions by the pointed looks and the way Sam kept nodding. Should he be worried?
He didn’t have time to think, much less worry as Sam took his cock firmly in hand and gave a soft stroke of his tongue up the underside. Bliss. There was no other word to describe it. Except maybe Heaven.
Sam’s tongue swirled experimentally along the tip, going over the same places again and again, almost as if he were memorizing every facet of Dean’s cock. The girl sprinkled Sam’s actions with more whispers, no doubt telling him what to do or try. And Sam did it all eagerly as a puppy.
Dean was vaguely aware of the fact that Misty was stroking Sam at the same time he was licking him, which explained why he pulled back so many times. And when he pulled away for a particularly long moment, Dean couldn’t help but look to see what had happened. Misty was pulling at Sam’s ear with her teeth, her hands working diligently at pulling his cock. And with a few more quick strokes, he was coming undone, spilling himself over her hands and the carpet as he grabbed at her hair. He panted, and she let him breathe for a moment before whispering one last word in Sam’s ear, this time loud enough for Dean to hear.
“Finish.”
Dean’s eyes rolled back into his head and threatened never to come out again when he felt Sam’s mouth engulf him. It was like being on fire. Like everything in and around him was burning. His skin, his blood, Sam’s mouth. Fire.
And maybe Dean had been a bit hasty in saying that Sam being stroked off was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. No, this had to be. Sam had his perfect pink lips wrapped around Dean’s cock, eyes looking up from under long, fluttery lashes. His ticket to Hell was certainly confirmed because all it took was that image of his brother, and he was coming so hard he thought his entire body was going to explode. Or maybe implode because he didn’t think there could possibly be anything left of him after that. Just the pearly beads of him left at the corner of Sam’s mouth.
Seeing that gave him enough strength to yank Sam off the floor and pull him to his chest, kissing him hard and deep. He could taste himself on Sam’s lips, his tongue. He tried to lick every last bit of himself away so that he could taste Sam and only Sam. He could taste something that reminded him of candy canes. Like the kind their dad bought no matter if they had a Christmas tree or not. The kind they only had when they were younger. It made him think of pure white snow and innocence.
And fuck, he just corrupted his baby brother. But he didn’t care. Right now all that mattered was Sam’s lips, their bodies pressed together, his memories of this day. Even if nothing happened later, he’d always have this day.
Dean was pulled out of his reverie by the sound of the creaking door. Misty had already gotten dressed, shoes in hand, and was standing in the doorway. He’d almost forgotten she was there. Shit.
“Hey, what’s going on? Don’t you wanna stick around for a bit? We still haven’t...”
She flashed that same grin she’d had all afternoon. “That’s ok, boys. I’ve got enough images of the two of you to last me all eternity. I’m not gonna need another man for the rest of my life. Just me and my thoughts will do fine. So, thanks.” Misty winked and let the door click shut behind her.
Dean cocked an eyebrow and turned to Sam. “She got off on watching us? I knew she was a kinky bitch, but damn.”
Sam shrugged. “I don’t know, I kinda liked her.”
“Oh, really?”
“Not like sort of like, but I certainly wouldn’t mind if she came over again.”
Dean's eyebrown went a little higher that time. “Oh, really…”
Fin.
Author: ChimeraBlack
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean/OFC
Rating: NC-17 (Just to be safe.)
Summary: Sam checks on Dean while John is on a hunt and gets a bit of a surprise.
Warnings: Underage (Sam is about 16). Het. Slash. Incest. Language.
A/N: A Summer Sammich fic. Title from Mouth by Bush. I may just have to write a sequel to this minus the Misty. It was my first time writing anything close to smut or het. Let's see how it goes.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Sam orDean. I just like to bring them out to play.
John was heading out that morning on a routine hunt. “Nothing to worry about. Simple haunting. The spirit’s not malevolent, just really, really damn annoying according to this guy. I’ll be back in a few days. Make sure Sam gets to school on time, and don’t forget to lock up if you go anywhere.”
Dean went back into the room he shared with Sam and gave him a nudge with his foot. Sam stirred, but didn‘t quite wake. So Dean tried again, this time with a hard smack to Sam’s ass. “What the fuck, Dean? I’m trying to sleep.”
“Good morning to you too, sunshine. Dad left. He said make sure you get to school on time. There’s money on the table for your lunch. I’m going back to sleep. Don’t wake me unless you’d like to be killed. Unless it’s an emergency and you actually are being killed. Then you really gotta wake me up because that’s something I’d like to see.”
“Bastard.” Dean dodged the pillow launched at his head.
“Love you too, Sammy. Go back to sleep. You still have an hour before breakfast.”
Dean woke up again at around noon. At least the light in the room made it look like noon. It could have been earlier or later, he didn’t really know. None of the clocks worked, and he couldn’t remember where he put his watch. Not that time mattered much on a day full of nothing.
He went into the kitchen to fix himself breakfast - or lunch…whatever - and get a start on the dishes. Sam was always on him about not doing any work around the house. Maybe Sam would finally shut up if he did laundry or something.
Or put his mouth to better use.
“Shut up. I just want Sam off my back.”
And on his?
“I said shut up!”
When Sam got home, he wasn’t even sure he’d walked into the right house. So he went back outside, stared at the numbers on the door, then came back in. It was the right place, alright, but it seemed odd. Different. Something was definitely, definitely wrong with this picture. Their house was clean. Something it hadn’t been since they’d first moved in. And even that was shot to hell within a week.
It was a fact that seventy five percent of all messes in the Winchester household were Dean’s fault, so there’s no way the cleanliness was his doing. Unless he’d been possessed by an obsessive compulsive demon. He hadn’t…had he? Better go check just to be safe. Though a new, neat freak, demon Dean might be an improvement over the old, lazy, sloppy Dean.
Sam went down the hall to their room. He didn’t even bother knocking when he went in. It was his room too, after all. Then again, it might have been a good idea because he’s pretty sure this wasn’t something he was supposed to see.
It was the most strangely magnetic thing he’d ever seen. Dean was sprawled out on his bed, nothing but boxers on, arm tucked behind his head casually. And there was this grin on his face Sam had never seen before. But Sam supposed he’d be grinning like that too if he’d had a half-naked woman straddling his lap.
The girl was very petite with small, round breasts and not much hip, her auburn hair cropped too short to do anything for her modesty. This surprised Sam because he’d only ever seen Dean drool over sassy, blond girls with giant racks. But Dean didn’t seem to mind the girl one bit.
She was grinding slow circles into his lap. She gave a throaty giggle whenever a sharp jerk of her hips caused him to groan. Every single time she did that, Dean would dig his fingers into her hips and she’d work the circles a bit harder, a bit faster.
Her grinding stopped, and she turned right around to face Sam. Her eyes gleamed mischievously. “Enjoying the show, sweetie?”
Dean sat up so fast the poor girl nearly tumbled right off his lap. “Dammit, Sammy! Don’t you ever knock?”
“Relax, Dean. It’s not like he’s hurting anyone.”
“Oh, he’ll be hurting alright. Get the fuck out before I kick your ass, Sam.”
“Aw, c’mon, Dean. He’s kinda cute. Maybe he could…join us.”
“No! No. Out of the question. Absolutely not.”
“What’s the matter, Dean? Don’t feel like sharing me?”
No, I don’t feel like sharing him. “That’s not it.”
“Then what?”
“He’s my little brother! He’s sixteen! That’s like, five different kinds of fucked up, Misty!”
“I don’t know about that. He seemed to like watching a whole lot. Maybe he’d like participating even more.”
“Ok, you know what? Fine. If he wants to, fine. Whatever. I still think it’s fucked up, but someone needs to finish what you started, Misty. If you weren’t such a fucking tease, we’d probably already be done.“
“You know you love it, Dean. So, how ‘bout it, Sam? You feel like giving it a go?”
“Dean, if you don’t want me to, I…”
“Hurry up, Sam. I’m not gonna wait all fucking day for an answer. I’m horny and pissed off, and that is not a good combination. Yes or no?”
“Al..alright.”
Misty grinned wickedly and purred, “That’s more like it! C‘mere, cutie.”
She stood at the foot of the bed and pulled Sam toward her, hitching up his shirt as she went. Sam stood there awkwardly as Misty unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down over his hips. He was painfully aware of his arousal when she’d gotten off his boxers. His skin prickled, but he wasn’t sure if it was the chill of the air or the flush of his embarrassment. He was exposed and vulnerable. He wanted to cry, to run away to be anywhere but here. But the smoldering look in Dean’s eyes made his cock twitch, and he thanked every god to ever exist that he was here.
Misty pushed him gently until the backs of his legs hit the mattress, forcing him to sit on the bed as she straddled his lap. The lace of her panties grazed his cock, and he bucked up into her, wanting more friction. She brought his face to hers and kissed him deeply, licking at his lips to give her entrance. Sam kissed back sloppy and unsure. He’d only ever kissed Crystal, a neighbor they had about four years ago, but that was nothing like this.
Sam mewled helplessly when she took his cock in her hand and gave it long, slow strokes. He tilted his head back, eyes fluttering shut when she brushed her thumb over the slit. She never stroked harder or faster, not even when Sam bucked or made disapproving grunts. Dean was right. The girl’s a tease.
Dean pretty much gave in at that moment and resigned himself to riding the special bus to Hell. Because nothing that he’d ever seen in his life looked better than Sam did at that moment. He was all sweat-sheened skin and tense limbs. And he kept running his tongue over his lips, his brow knitted in frustration at the languid pace Misty had set. He was sin incarnate. Or maybe an angel, he didn’t know. But fuck if his brother didn’t look amazing right then. Yes, he was definitely going to Hell.
Misty stood up and slipped out of her underwear, making a show of it by wiggling her ass. It wasn’t until she’d pressed Sam back onto the mattress and climbed on top of him that Dean figured out what she was doing.
Hell no! I'm not letting you take my baby brother’s virginity!
“Misty, wait!”
“Hm?”
“I… I think this sort of thing is always first come, first serve, right? So, uh...”
“Your brother’s getting antsy, Sam. Think I should take care of him? Or should I…”
The rest trailed off into a whisper in Sam’s ear, and Dean couldn’t hear a word. But he wished he could have when Sam let out this sort of whimpery moan and closed his eyes.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “You like that idea, don’t you? I bet Dean’s gonna like it too.”
She pulled Sam down onto the floor with her and began mouthing his ear.
“Come over and sit with us, Dean.” She patted a spot on the bed just in front of Sam. She had an evil smirk on. It looked so unnatural on her elven face but so right with her devilish side.
Dean pulled himself up and sat at the edge of the bed where she’d told him to. Then she went back to whispering in Sam’s ear again. He thought maybe she was giving him instructions by the pointed looks and the way Sam kept nodding. Should he be worried?
He didn’t have time to think, much less worry as Sam took his cock firmly in hand and gave a soft stroke of his tongue up the underside. Bliss. There was no other word to describe it. Except maybe Heaven.
Sam’s tongue swirled experimentally along the tip, going over the same places again and again, almost as if he were memorizing every facet of Dean’s cock. The girl sprinkled Sam’s actions with more whispers, no doubt telling him what to do or try. And Sam did it all eagerly as a puppy.
Dean was vaguely aware of the fact that Misty was stroking Sam at the same time he was licking him, which explained why he pulled back so many times. And when he pulled away for a particularly long moment, Dean couldn’t help but look to see what had happened. Misty was pulling at Sam’s ear with her teeth, her hands working diligently at pulling his cock. And with a few more quick strokes, he was coming undone, spilling himself over her hands and the carpet as he grabbed at her hair. He panted, and she let him breathe for a moment before whispering one last word in Sam’s ear, this time loud enough for Dean to hear.
“Finish.”
Dean’s eyes rolled back into his head and threatened never to come out again when he felt Sam’s mouth engulf him. It was like being on fire. Like everything in and around him was burning. His skin, his blood, Sam’s mouth. Fire.
And maybe Dean had been a bit hasty in saying that Sam being stroked off was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. No, this had to be. Sam had his perfect pink lips wrapped around Dean’s cock, eyes looking up from under long, fluttery lashes. His ticket to Hell was certainly confirmed because all it took was that image of his brother, and he was coming so hard he thought his entire body was going to explode. Or maybe implode because he didn’t think there could possibly be anything left of him after that. Just the pearly beads of him left at the corner of Sam’s mouth.
Seeing that gave him enough strength to yank Sam off the floor and pull him to his chest, kissing him hard and deep. He could taste himself on Sam’s lips, his tongue. He tried to lick every last bit of himself away so that he could taste Sam and only Sam. He could taste something that reminded him of candy canes. Like the kind their dad bought no matter if they had a Christmas tree or not. The kind they only had when they were younger. It made him think of pure white snow and innocence.
And fuck, he just corrupted his baby brother. But he didn’t care. Right now all that mattered was Sam’s lips, their bodies pressed together, his memories of this day. Even if nothing happened later, he’d always have this day.
Dean was pulled out of his reverie by the sound of the creaking door. Misty had already gotten dressed, shoes in hand, and was standing in the doorway. He’d almost forgotten she was there. Shit.
“Hey, what’s going on? Don’t you wanna stick around for a bit? We still haven’t...”
She flashed that same grin she’d had all afternoon. “That’s ok, boys. I’ve got enough images of the two of you to last me all eternity. I’m not gonna need another man for the rest of my life. Just me and my thoughts will do fine. So, thanks.” Misty winked and let the door click shut behind her.
Dean cocked an eyebrow and turned to Sam. “She got off on watching us? I knew she was a kinky bitch, but damn.”
Sam shrugged. “I don’t know, I kinda liked her.”
“Oh, really?”
“Not like sort of like, but I certainly wouldn’t mind if she came over again.”
Dean's eyebrown went a little higher that time. “Oh, really…”
Fin.