Never Spoken

ianthe_aveira @ 2009-02-17T16:33:00

2009-02-17T23:31:01Z

Title: 21 Little Bones Arc 1: Terrible Lies (1/7)
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: NC17 (complete)
Word Count: 4,271/25,000ish
Warnings: AU, underage boys, blood, gore, disturbing imagery, language, sex, violence, semi-beta'd
Summary: Jensen is a boy that's sick of the people who have constantly harassed him. When he decides to put an end to it, Jared Padalecki slips through his carefully constructed barriers making his plans more complicated

Disclaimer: My stories may be disturbing to some readers. Please read my journal disclaimer and all warnings. As always I own nothing :( it makes me sad.

Notes: This is my first time writing J2 so I'm nervous about it. I messed with the boy's ages in this (Jensen is 17 and Jared is 15). I also messed with details of the Seattle area but nothing too big. I'll be posting a chapter or two every week. Let me know what you think! :) If it wasn't for rah_ram I would have never written any of this. Thank you so much, hon!!

The rest of my fics can be found here and at my fic comm eroticdiscord

It’s not like he cared what they thought of him. He didn’t.

The way they looked at him, they way they snickered and whispered to their friends and that bitch Daneel was the worst. He’d walk into the classroom, head down and hands clenched around his messenger bag and she’d lean over to that other bitch, Sandy and he’d hear them giggle. Hear the faggot and loser as he walked by.

He didn’t care.

He didn’t, because he was going to kill them all.

Day 1

Jared stood in front of the bathroom mirror, hair wet and plastered to the sides of his face, mouth foaming with toothpaste as he stared at his reflection. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there, long enough that the Fall chill through the half open window brought goosebumps to his skin, long enough for his little sister to start pounding on the door.

“JT! JT hurry up! Mom says that if you don’t get your butt out of there now she’s going to make you walk to school!”

Jared frowned at his reflection and spit into the sink. He knew his mom wouldn’t make him walk. Not on the first day of classes, especially not the first day of classes at a new school. The thought of a new school made his stomach clench.

He wasn’t so good with new.

**

The halls were loud and busy, kids hanging out by their lockers and goofing off and Jared felt a little overwhelmed. He was standing there like an idiot with his class schedule in one hand and his backpack in the other and he had no idea where he was going. He couldn’t find his locker, he couldn’t find his first class and he wasn’t sure if he was even in the right wing of the school to begin with.

The bell buzzed loudly and people began to scatter, parting around him as he stood there blinking and then they were gone. He could feel a headache building behind his eyes but at least with everyone at first period he could actually think again.

Sighing he looked down at the crumpled paper in his fist, why did his dad have to change jobs? Why’d they have to leave Clarendon where he’d been born and raised and travel halfway across the US to live in this dirty rainy city? He hated Seattle and he missed Texas, missed his friends and his house and his school. He knew the reasons his parents said they left, the reasons they insisted were true when they sat he and his brother and sister down and told them about the move. Jared knew they were lies. He knew it was because of what happened before, knew it was his fault they had to move and Jeff wouldn’t let him forget it. Not like he could forget it anyways.

Relaxing his grip he smoothed the crumpled schedule out as best he could and started walking again. Eyes flickering to the numbers beside the doors as he passed until he finally found the one he was looking for. He stared at the door for a long time, deep breathing and willing himself not to freak out. Puking in the hallway was a sure fire way to ruin him as if simply being the new kid wasn’t enough. He finally got his heartbeat and stomach under control and reached for the handle.

Please don’t let me freak out. Please.

**

Jensen pushed his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose, eyes locked on the front of the classroom even though he hadn’t heard or seen anything since he’d sat down. He was good at tuning things out, drifting in his head until the day was over and he could go home.

Not like home was any better, not with his dad on his recent bender and his mom ghosting around like some Merry Maid on crack. Josh was off at university and Mackenzie was always out with friends so that left Jensen alone with his parents. Alone.

Which was fine. He didn’t mind being alone.

He barely heard the bell sounding the end of class, blinking the world back into focus he looked around at his fellow students as they started chattering and heading out for next period and he began gathering up his books and stuffing them into his bag.

“Jensen?”

Jensen blinked and looked up at the sound of his name, Mr. Patterson was standing at his desk with some tall thin kid nearby.

Hmmm..

Jensen grabbed his bag and stood, walking over to where the teacher and the kid waited for him. Patterson was short, fat and balding and he smelt like the woodshop, which was odd because he taught history and Jensen despised him, but he was polite. Always so polite.

“Yes?” He asked as he drew near and he noticed the other boy stiffen at his approach. Odd.

“Jensen this is Jared Padalecki, Jared this is Jensen Ackles.” Jensen nodded at the introduction barely looking over at the other boy. “Jared’s new and could use some help finding his classes today.” Patterson smiled at the tall boy and Jensen finally turned and looked at “the new kid”. Jared was as tall as Jensen but a few years younger, maybe a sophomore. He had floppy dark hair and big scared eyes and Jensen groaned to himself. Perfect, he was getting saddled showing the new kid around. This was the best day ever.

“Uh..” Jensen began; looking back at the teacher but Mr. Patterson cut him off with a wave of his pudgy hand and retreated behind his desk. He grabbed a pen and paper and began scribbling frantically as he started to talk.

“I know it’ll take awhile to show Jared to his classes and then get to yours, but I’m writing you a note to excuse any lateness and Jared can wait for you after class so you can show him to the next one. I think it’s a great idea, I know that you’ll take good care of him.” Patterson looked up and smiled and Jensen wanted to bash his fucking teeth down his throat but he just smiled and nodded and took the paper when offered.

Looking down briefly at the note and then over at the kid, who looked a shade green and about ready to bolt for it, and he plastered on his best smile.

“Sure, no problem.”

**

Jared followed Jensen through the empty halls, second period bell had already sounded and with all the classroom doors closed the only sound was their shuffling feet. It was unsettling. Jensen barely said a word and wouldn’t look at him and Jared sorta wished he could just fall through the floor. He felt on the verge of panic, barely holding it together and maybe it was too soon for him to go back to school. His Momma said that it might be too soon, but Jared had wanted to try. He really wanted to get better and not be such a freak and the only way for that to happen was for him to stop hiding out at home and get back to school, get back to his life.

Jared swallowed hard glancing from Jensen to his surroundings and tried to keep his mind on something besides the cold weight in his stomach.

“This place is huge.” Jared offered as conversation, something to fill the awkward silence between them. He wasn’t used to such a big school, his class last year had only had fifteen students in it so being in a school were the number of students in his sophomore class this year was fifteen times that many was pretty overwhelming.

Jensen made an agreeable noise but didn’t say anything, just kept walking and Jared felt his nervousness start to boil up. What if Jensen thought he was weird? A freak or something? What if he could look at Jared and just know. It was irrational, no one could know unless he told them but… what if? Clutching his backpack tighter he took a deep breath and started talking. Normal people talked, they made friends and chatted and he couldn’t stop himself.
“There’s almost as many kids at this school then in my entire town back home. I’m from Texas by the way, Clarendon Texas. It’s pretty small. Some people say I have an accent, which is so weird because I don’t it’s you all that got accents, but maybe you don’t think you do. Huh. My eighth grade teacher, Mrs. Limden, she was from New Jersey. Man did she have a weird accent, sometimes –“

“Shut up!” Jensen spun around to face Jared and Jared clamped his mouth closed, his eyes going wide at the other boy’s outburst. “Can’t you just shut the fuck up for a minute?” Jensen looked angry, his brow creased and his eyes crinkling at the corners as he glared at Jared. They stood there staring at each other for a few seconds and Jensen finally sighed, hefted his messenger bag higher on his shoulder and started walking again. Jared stared after him for a heartbeat, he had thought Jensen was a quiet one, maybe a geek or something or maybe someone like Jared, but he never expected the other boy to explode at him like that. Especially since Jared had hardly been speaking for longer than a few minutes!

Jared sighed and quickened his pace to catch up with the other boy. He walked silently next to Jensen while they navigated the hallways and climbed to the second story.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I know I talk a lot, my Momma says that I run off at the mouth when I get nervous and well –“ Jensen turned his head and narrowed his eyes and Jared decided that maybe he’d just better shut up.

**

Jensen wasn’t going to go to class fourth period, he figured that since he had to babysit Jared and he had a note that really excused him for as long as he wanted that he’d just skip biology and that’d give him an extra long lunch.

He walked Jared to his next class, the kid was pretty strange and he talked a lot. Jensen wasn’t sure if it was just because the kid was nervous or if there was something wrong with him. Jared had this look about him, something around his eyes that made Jensen think that something bad had happened to the other boy. Jensen knew that look. It’s a look that he tried so hard to keep out of his own eyes.

“So lunch is next right?” Jared asked and Jensen nodded. “Good! I’m starving. Where do you usually eat at? I have a lunch but wherever you want to go is fine.”

Jensen frowned and stared down the hallway, he could see Jared’s next class and all he wanted to do was dump the kid off and get the hell out of here.

“We’re not eating together.” Jensen stated, picking up his pace a little bit and trying to ignore the frown that Jared was sending him.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m taking this period off and I won’t be around for lunch” And why the hell was he explaining himself to Jared?

“Oh.” Jared sounded sort of defeated and Jensen almost missed the fact that the other boy had stopped walking and was just standing there in the middle of the hallway. Jensen stopped as well, closed his eyes and counted to ten before turning to face Jared. Jared looked like Jensen had just kicked his puppy or something.

“What?” Jensen demanded, closing the distance between him and Jared so that he didn’t have to raise his voice.

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” Jared asked and Damnit what was this kids problem? Jensen didn’t want to be his friend, didn’t want to hang out and do eachother’s hair. Jared would just get in the way.

Jared must have taken his silence as confirmation because his face sort of crumbled and he looked down at his feet and Jensen was NOT feeling guilty about it. He wasn’t. He didn’t give a shit if Jared was about to cry or whatever.

“Listen, Jared.” Jensen glanced around, making sure they were still alone in the hallway before stepping up into Jared’s personal space. Jared flinched back but Jensen didn’t care, he just leaned in and brought his lips close to the boy’s ear. He could smell Jared’s shampoo, something fruity and kind of girly and he really sorta wanted to beat the hell out of Jared at the moment.

“I don’t want to be your friend.” Jensen whispered as he clenched his hands around the strap of his bag across his chest. “and you don’t want to be mine.” There. Simple. Jensen stepped away and ignoring the deer in headlights look on Jared’s face he motioned towards the far classroom door and left Jared standing there staring after him.

**

Jared stood outside the classroom after bell for ten minutes. He didn’t really expect Jensen to show up but he waited anyways… just in case.

Finally tired and starving he decided he could eat lunch on his own no problem and if Jensen was going to be a douche then whatever, he wasn’t waiting around anymore. Frowning Jared maneuvered through the hallways, ignoring the slow mill of students on break and pushed out the back doors to the student quad behind the school. He looked around at the sea of students, definitely not looking for Jensen and he spotted Jeff sitting with a group of people by the bike stands.

It was sort of pathetic but he was completely alone here, surrounded by strangers and Jeff was his brother, even if he could be a total jerk most of the time. Jeff wouldn’t let anyone hurt him and that was what finally got Jared’s feet moving.

Jared felt a pang of jealousy as he started walking towards his brother; Jeff always had it so easy, he’d already made friends with a group of people. Three beautiful girls and a scruffy looking blonde guy and he hated his brother then, hated how easy it came to Jeff. Even back home it was never that easy for Jared and then after it was impossible.

The small group looked up as he approached and he could feel Jeff’s eyes bore into him with annoyance. Of course he didn’t want his freak of a little brother around, not when he was trying to be cool and win over new friends Jared really didn’t blame him. He wouldn’t want himself hanging around either if he were in Jeff’s place.

“Hey.” Jared smiled weakly, their combined stares making him itch between his shoulderblades and his heart triple time in his chest and this was a bad idea. He should have just eaten lunch in the hallway or something.

“He’s my little brother.” Jeff sighed and the tension in the group suddenly dissipated, they didn’t see him as some strange kid breaking high school hierarchy anymore, just Jeff’s strange kid brother which actually could be even worse.

“Aww, he’s cute.” One of the girls, a pretty brunette with who was currently sitting between the spread legs of the scruffy guy, grinned sitting forward towards Jared a little bit. “He’s like a baby version of you, Jeff.”

They all started laughing and Jared frowned, looking down at the grass at his feet as he felt himself flush. After a moment they all began to talk between themselves again; completely ignoring his presence and Jared really wished that Jensen had met him after class.

Jensen was probably a Senior. Jared didn’t know for certain, but if so then he was in Jeff’s grade and maybe they knew where he could find Jensen. There were a lot of students here, but at least he’d ask and find out and it was better than turning and running off to hide someplace like he really wanted to. That wasn’t normal.

“You guys know Jensen?” He asked when there was a lull in their conversation and he thought maybe they wouldn’t ignore him.

“Ackles?” The blonde guy asked and that sat off another round of laughter and for some reason that made Jared angry. What was their problems?

“Stay away from Jensen, hun.” The small round face girl warned, she was sitting close to Jeff and Jared had noticed her flirting with his brother and – Gross!

“Yeah, Ackles is a fucking weirdo.” The blonde guy, he was still grinning ear to ear and Jared hated him. Hated all them because, well yeah, Jensen was weird but they were all being assholes about it.

“He’s more than just a weirdo…” The last girl spoke up; she’d been texting on her phone and hadn’t even acknowledged Jared’s presences until this moment. She took one last look at her phone, flipped it closed and tossed her long red hair over her shoulder. “Jensen is a homo freak loser that belongs in a psych ward someplace.” She sneered the words, pink lip glossed lips curling up and making her nose wrinkle in disgust.

Jared stared at them all, swallowing hard he chewed on his bottom lip as he thought of their words. It was very obvious that they didn’t like Jensen and he thought back to earlier in the hallway and Jensen’s words and maybe they had a point. Maybe Jensen was really a complete dick and Jared should stay away from him, but he sorta liked Jensen. Sorta liked the way he was all quiet and serious and then when he did talk; twice actually that wasn’t threats or telling Jared to shut up, Jensen actually talked to Jared and not at him.

“Huh.” Jared frowned and swung his backpack up over one shoulder. If they didn’t know then he wasn’t going to hang around. These people were ok by Jeff’s standards but Jared didn’t want to spend another minute around them. “So you guys seen him or not?”

They stared at him for a few seconds longer before ignoring him again and Jared decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. He turned and started back across the quad, he’d go eat lunch at his locker or something.

Jared was about to reach for the door, retreat back into the semi-calm of the hallways when he saw Jensen. The other boy had his back to Jared resting against the trunk of one of the large trees that bordered the campus and Jared smiled to himself. Without thinking twice about it he turned away from the doors and made his way through the groups of students toward the older boy.

Jensen must have heard him approaching; his back stiffened and his shoulders squared and when he finally turned to face Jared there was a cigarette between his scowled lips and a look of hate in his eyes. Jared stopped and maybe this wasn’t such a good idea either because Jensen looked maybe two seconds away from strangling him with his bookbag.

“Uh – Hi.” Jared smiled, raising his hand in a brief wave. Jensen sighed, plucking the cigarette from his mouth and Jared was sort of relieved to see the murderous look fade out of Jensen’s jade eyes, even if it was replaced with a look of pure annoyance.

“Want to share my lunch?” Jared asked deciding that food was always a good way at smoothing things over. He swung his backpack off his shoulder and rummaged around inside. “My momma always packs me a huge lunch, she thinks I need to fatten up or something and I sorta like to eat so there’s enough .“ Jared pulled a sandwich out of his lunch and held the Ziploc bag out to the other boy. “It’s bologna and cheese, which sorta sucks but..” He shrugged and Jensen was just staring at him. Jared forced himself not to look away, not to show Jensen how scared and nervous he was and Jared was. He was scared that the only person that even took a slight interest in him, even if it was forced by Mr. Patterson, would tell him to fuck off or worse.

Jared was completely surprised when Jensen reached out and took the sandwich from him, grinding out the cigarette against the tree as he settled down in the grass and Jared tried not to grin too big as he sat across from Jensen and opened his own sandwich.

**

Jared was still annoying. A soggy bologna sandwich didn’t change a damn thing but Jensen had made an effort. He didn’t want to be friends with the kid and he ignored Jared 90% of the time they traveled the hallways together but it was hard to hate Jared and that pissed Jensen off.

It was last period and Jensen had algebra, Jared had study hall in the library and they’d passed it at least twenty times today so Jared had walked himself and Jensen finally had time to hit his locker and grab a few of his books.

“Heard you got a new boyfriend, Ackles.”

Jensen frowned at the voice over his right shoulder. Tom Welling had the locker next to him and that was just the perfect cosmic Fuck You because Welling had been an asshole to Jensen since first grade and now there was no way to avoid an altercation and it was going to be an awesome senior year.

“Heard he’s pretty young though, wanna be careful with that Jenny, gonna get in trouble fucking your way through the freshman class.”

And that was Rosenbaum adding his genius to the conversation. Didn’t surprise Jensen at all, wherever Tom was Mike followed and they called him queer.

“Fuck off, Rosie.” Jensen grumbled, grabbing his algebra book and slamming his locker. He didn’t want to do this now, not again, not with this shit of a day almost over. Jensen turned and found the two other boys standing in front of him grinning. Tom shook his head and threw an arm over Jensen’s shoulders, knocking his glasses askew and if these assholes broke another pair Jensen’s dad was going to beat the hell out of him. Reaching up he righted the frames as his other hand clenched around his text book, his blunt nails digging into the cover.

“Better not get caught sucking him off in the bathroom like Kane.” Tom sneered and it took every ounce of restraint for Jensen not to respond. He wanted to kill Welling, wanted to shove his hand down the fuckers throat and rip out his lungs. Them mentioning Christian still hurt, after almost two years it still hurt a lot and Jensen had to get out of there. He had to get away from them before he did something he wasn’t ready to do yet. Not yet.

He shrugged off Mike’s arm and pushed past them. He could hear them laughing behind him, laughing like fucking idiots and all Jensen wanted to do was make them scream.

**

He had told Jared that he’d meet him after classes; well he had nodded when the younger boy mentioned it just to get him to shut up about it, but Jensen never intended to even see Jared again if he could help it. Jared was like some stray puppy yapping at his heels and never shutting up and Jensen should have never had shared the boys lunch because now it was very likely that he might have complicated things. Jared might have gotten the wrong idea, taken Jensen’s hunger as something more than it was, an extended hand of friendship. Jensen had told Jared that he didn’t want him as a friend, that he didn’t want or need anything that Jared had to offer and if the kid was too stupid to get that then it wasn’t Jensen’s problem.

Jensen slipped behind the wheel of his car, shutting and locking the door and sealing himself inside. Finally silence, everything quiet and distant in the confines of the GTO. Jensen closed his eyes, fingers clenched in tight fists against his thighs and he let the day go, shrugging off the sick slick feeling and the desire to plow the Pontiac through the busy quad.

Feeling much calmer he opened his eyes and turned on the car, heavy strains of The Downward Spiral exploding through the speakers and he made his way for home.

The smell of ammonia always made him think of blood, the bitter taste of the air heavy with it as it deluded crimson and washed it away. It assaulted him like a punch as he pushed open the front door, sometimes it would be bleach, sometimes something lemony that made his stomach turn but it was always thick and it’d cling to him relentlessly no matter how many scalding showers he took. Jensen could hear the vacuum humming somewhere farther in the house, a distant sound that he was used to hearing at all hours of the day and night and hopefully he could slip to his room without his mother realizing that he was home.

Crossing the living room he headed towards the stairs and he almost made it to the first landing when his father’s voice sounded behind him, calling his name and halting him mid-step. Jensen frowned, jaw clenching as he turned and made his way back downstairs.

**

He scrubbed furrows into his skin, blood staining the bar of soap and dropping foamed red to swirl down the shower drain.

He never felt clean anymore.

[TBC]

ianthe_aveira @ 2009-02-17T16:31:00

2009-02-17T23:30:13Z

Title: Jeopardy
Pairing: Dean/Sam, John
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 2,211
Warnings: Underage Sam and barely legal Dean. PWP! unbeta'd
Disclaimer: My stories may be disturbing to some readers. Please read my journal disclaimer and all warnings. As always I own nothing :( it makes me sad. Everything belongs to The Kripke, lucky bastard.

Notes: This is for rah_ram because she makes me write nasty stuff O.o you should see her prompts. ♥ The rest of my fics can be found here and at my fic comm eroticdiscord

Notes 2: *snorts* I forgot to unflock it *facepalms* *whistles*

Sam sat cross-legged on the bed, a sadistically thick American History book resting on his knees and loose notebook paper spread chaotically around him. He had a paper due Friday; the same theme he wrote on six months ago and a hundred stops back; an A left under a magnet on some fourth hand refrigerator in Biloxi, a piece of him left behind as if he mattered.

The pipes rattled as the shower shut off, the hum of the bathroom fan and his brother’s off tune whistling muted through the adjacent door and it made Sam smile. Dean always made him smile.

He stared down at the page in front of him, black words on white but it didn’t mean anything; his mind a million miles away on darker more forbidden things and it tasted like Dean when he licked his lips.

He looked up as the bathroom door swung open, dick semi-hard as a billow of steam rushed out into the air conditioned room. Dean was still whistling, some song that he probably made up and his eyes gleamed wickedly when he met Sam’s gaze. Low slung jeans, the hint of navy boxer briefs and hip bones and drops of water sliding down his bare chest because Dean always forgot to dry his damn hair completely. How the hell was he supposed to concentrate on homework when Dean was doing this? Probably on purpose too because he knew just how to wind Sam up and took every opportunity to do so.

“Take a picture, pervert.” Dean grinned, dragging his hand through his dripping hair before shaking it like a dog. Sam scowled, eyes flicking down to where a few drops started to bleed the ink on his notes and then back up to his grinning idiot of a brother.

“Shut up, Jerk.” He mumbled just because Dean was expecting some sort of return. Dean’s grin widen as he threw his damp towel in Sam’s direction, missing by a mile and grabbed the remote for the TV.

Sam brushed his hand across his notebook, smearing the water and getting blue smudges on his fingertips as Dean bounced heavily down on the other bed, settling back against the headboard and snapping the TV on with a loud static sizzle before blaring the theme from Jeopardy. It lasted only a second before Dean was flipping through the channels; all six of them to settle back on Alec Trebek and the final jeopardy music.

“This place should get porn. What sort of seedy motel is this?” Dean sighed tossing the control down on the bed in defeat and looking over at Sam. Sam realized he’d been staring, Dean had that affect on him; he could get lost for hours just staring at his brother.

“Sammy…” Dean’s voice dropped lower and he wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m bored, come over here and suck my dick.”

Sam’s eyes grew wide for a second. It was tempting, get up and crawl between Dean’s legs and spend the rest of the evening with Dean’s cock in his mouth but, well he sort of had other plans.

The look on Dean’s face was priceless as Sam closed his books and started stuffing everything into his backpack; he looked like a kid in a candy shop; well a pervert in a porn shop was more accurate, laying back on the bed, flipping the TV off and wiggling his hips in anticipation and when Sam didn’t move fast enough he reached down, rubbing himself through his jeans as he threw out a “Come on, slow ass my cock isn’t going to suck itself!” and Sam just rolled his eyes and moved even slower just to torture his older brother.

“Dean –“ Sam began as he stood up and crossed the three feet to the other bed. “I was thinking.” Dean quirked a brow as Sam slid up onto the bed, he spread his legs as his hands went for his zipper. Sam laughed, reaching out and stilling his hands before he could get a hold of the small metal pull clasp. Dean grunted in frustration and tried to pull out of Sam’s grasp.

“Sam, come on. Don’t be a tease!”

Sam shook his head, ignoring Dean’s protests as he tightened his fingers around his brother’s and rubbed both their hands slowly over Dean’s obvious erection.

“Was thinking I want to watch you jerk off. Watch you fist your cock and come all over your fingers just for me.” Sam rubbed harder and Dean gasped, his eyes shuttering closed for a moment before snapping back open.

“Yeah. Yeah, Sammy whatever you want.”

Sam smiled brightly and pulled his hand back away from Dean’s crotch. Dean paused for a second, his eyes locked on Sam’s and then he nodded, jerking his zipper down and thumbing the button of his jeans open. Sam felt something flare hot and deep inside him, excitement and curiosity and he settled down cross-legged between Dean’s splayed legs as Dean pushed denim and boxers down his hips.

Sam chewed on his bottom lip as he watched. Dean’s cock heavy and full arched up against his stomach and Sam was almost tempted to just lean forward and give Dean that blowjob like he wanted; lick away the shimmering drop of precome from the head and taste, but he kept himself still through sheer force of will. It was going to be worth it.

Dean smirked as he wrapped his fingers around his shaft; just holding and squeezing as he watched Sam watching him. Sam felt himself flush, warmth spreading through his chest and up the back of his neck and Jesus Dean had a beautiful body. Sam always felt a little self conscious around his brother, still all gangly and not fitting right in his own skin but Dean was unabashed and he knew exactly how he looked.

“Like this?” Dean breathed, head resting back against the headboard, eyes heavy and dark and suddenly Sam couldn’t breathe, his lungs frozen at the sight of his brother’s long fingers and thick cock. Dean smirked when he saw the look on Sam’s face, thumb heavy over the head to gather up the precome there before bringing his hand up to his mouth and sucking the stickiness from his finger.

“Fuck, Dean.” Sam reached down, squeezing himself through his jeans as he watched his brother. Dean was going to kill him. Dean’s laugh was rough and throaty, swallowing hard as he wrapped his hand back around his dick and started stroking again.

The room grew warmer, stifling hot even with the air conditioner on high. The rattle of the old machine barely heard over the pants for breath, moans of pleasure and the sound of skin on skin. Dean was getting close; color spreading across his chest and up his neck, sweat springing out over his skin and Sam couldn’t resist it. He moved up to his knees, leaning forward to lick a long strip up the center of his brother’s chest. Dean tasted like soap and sweat and heat and this close he could smell his brother’s arousal and it made him want to push Dean’s hand away and swallow him down.

“Sammy” Dean groaned, muscles twitching against Sam’s lips as he arched up for more contact. “Suck me off, man. C’mon, need to have your mouth on me.” Dean begged sinking his fingers into the back of Sam’s hair and tugging lightly. Sam was painfully hard, wet spreading across the front of his jeans as his cock jerked. Gasping he turned his head, lips brushing against hard pecs as he kissed over to Dean’s nipple.

“Yeah. Yeah.”A desperate whisper that melted into a heated moan as Sam’s tongue flicked out to tease the hard bit of flesh. Every sound, every taste, everything that was Dean was making Sam insane, he wanted to touch and fuck and it was all he could do to pull himself away. He wanted to see Dean jerk off and his restraint was slipping dangerously.

“Bastard.” Dean grunted frustrated, letting go of Sam’s hair as he pulled away and settled back between Dean’s splayed legs. Sam chewed his bottom lip, he was shaking as he watched Dean. Strokes growing harder and faster; eyes shuttering closed and each panted exhale sounded like Sam’s name. Reaching down Sam kept rubbing himself through his jeans; he didn’t want to come yet, not until after Dean had shot his load but damnit he needed some sort of relief.

“Gonna come, Sammy.” Dean gritted out and Sam couldn’t stand it anymore, he had to touch. Reaching out he slid his hand up under the hem of Dean’s jeans, wrapping his hand around his brother’s bare ankle, smooth hot skin under his fingers and he could feel the muscles jumping and twitching at his touch. Dean’s eyes shot wide open, a loud long groan and his hips bucked forward off the bed.

The world ground down to slow motion, Sam’s eyes drifting down Dean’s body to his cock as he started to come. Thick spurts painting Dean’s belly and chest, leaking down to coat his fingers as he moaned and writhed.

The hotel room door opening beside them, early evening light cutting the room in half and Sam almost couldn’t tear his eyes away from his brother, Dean was so beautiful when he came. Blinking hard he turned his head and his heart sunk, his lungs seizing. John stood in the doorway, his eyes wide and staring at his sons. Sam felt the bed shift, Dean cursing and fumbling and Sam’s brain still hadn’t caught up to the fact that they’d been caught. Dad caught them. His hand stilled in his lap at the thought and Jesus, he was so close. He watched John’s eyes narrow slightly, taking in the sight of them and Sam realized he still had his hand wrapped around Dean’s ankle and he snatched it away quickly.

“Huh.” John muttered, something describable drifting over his face for a second before being replaced with a mask of exhaustion and for the first time Sam noticed the smudges of dirt on his father’s clothing and across one cheek; a hard hunt and he was back early and he caught us. Something about that thought made Sam’s heart speed up and he wanted to come so bad he could hardly see straight.

“Dad” Dean’s voice sounded high and it was such a strange sound that it snapped Sam out of his thoughts and he turned to look at his brother. Dean had gathered up the corner of the bed spread and pulled it over his lap, his face was red with embarassment and his eyes wide with fear.

The door clicked closed and Sam held his breath as he turned and watched John walk wearily across the room, he expected yelling or violence or both but instead he was surprised to watch their Dad stop at the bed were Sam had been doing his homework just a short time earlier, he reached out and snatched the box of kleenex on the night stand and without turning to look at either Dean or Sam he tossed the box at them.

“Don’t make a mess.” John mumbled, not bothering to pull back the blankets before falling onto the bed and turning his face towards the wall. Sam was confused, shouldn’t dad be pissed? Disgusted? Some other horrible emotion and not just falling asleep and snoring into his pillow?

Sam blinked and turned back to look at Dean. Dean looked as confused as Sam felt, they stared at each other for a few long moments until John’s even breathing and soft snores drifted across the room. Sam bit his bottom lip hard and pressed the heel of his hand to his still aching dick. Dean watched him, eyes drifting down as his eyebrows shot up. Sam opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say but before he could make any noise Dean was surging up, hand lashing out roughly over Sam’s mouth to silence whatever sound he was about to make. Pressing his lips to Sam’s ear Dean smiled.

“Sssh, Sammy.”

Sam’s eyes were wide and it was completely fucked up but he sighed in relief when he felt Dean’s hand slip down the front of his pants. Dean jerked him off hard and fast, his hand over Sam’s mouth cutting off any noise but the quiet harsh pants through Sam’s nose. It only took a few strokes before Sam was coming, body shuddering as he sunk his teeth into the meaty part of Dean’s palm. Dean hissed in pain against his temple, a long shaky breath and then he was pressing kisses across Sam’s jaw as he held Sam through his orgasm.

Sam felt drained, weak and a bit giggly. Dean had just jerked him off while their dad slept not ten feet away. It was scary and exciting and he couldn’t stop grinning even when Dean pulled his hand out of Sam’s pants and wiped the mess on the the front of Sam’s t-shirt.

“Jerk” Sam wrinkled his nose, no heat and too worn out to care.

“Bitch.” Dean whispered, licking at a smear of come on the back of his hand.

Title: What You Make Me Do
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 1617
Warnings: Underage Sam and barely legal Dean. PWP! unbeta'd
Disclaimer: My stories may be disturbing to some readers. Please read my journal disclaimer and all warnings. As always I own nothing :( it makes me sad. Everything belongs to The Kripke, lucky bastard.

Notes: This is for rah_ram because she makes me write nasty stuff and I like it! The rest of my fics can be found here and at my fic comm eroticdiscord

They lay in a tangled sweaty mess of limbs; Sam still trembling slightly underneath him, body overheated and spent and Dean loves these moments. Opening his eyes he stares down at his brother, resting his forehead against Sam’s, sweaty bangs and huge hazel eyes and he can’t help smiling. Sam answers his smile with a huge grin and he wiggles his hips; Dean is still inside him, cock softening but he can’t bring himself to pull out.

“You’re crushing me.” Sam whispers, breath hot against Dean’s lips.

“You like it.” Dean answers, a slow lingering kiss that makes them both light headed before he rolls off his little brother and onto his back. He closes his eyes for a minute, the chill of the air conditioner flitting over his skin and making the sweat dry on his body. He feels like he could fall asleep, drift off right now and he couldn’t be happier.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?” Too much energy to open his eyes and look over at Sam and he gets an elbow to his side as Sam laughs.

“You can’t go to sleep.” Sam states matter-of-factly and that does get Dean to open his eyes. Dad is gone for the weekend; they have nothing that needs to be done so why can’t he go to sleep? He just fucked the hell out of Sam so no way he can be expected to do anything other than sleep.

“Oh yeah? Why not?”

“Because” Sam grins, entirely too much energy after what they just did. Sam climbs up on top of him and straddles his hips, hands resting heavy on Dean’s shoulders as if he wants to pin Dean down to the mattress. Dean can feel his come leaking out of Sam and making a mess on his skin, his cock twitching in renewed interest trapped underneath his brother and Sam grins as he rolls his hips. Good thing he’s in his prime because Sam is insatiable.

“Christ, Sammy.” Dean blinks, looking up at his little brother above him. Color high on Sam’s cheeks, eyes still hazed and hair hanging in sweaty strands and it takes Dean’s breath away.

“Want you to fuck me again, Dean.” Sam blushes at the words like he wasn’t just screaming for Dean to fuck him at the top of his lungs just fifteen minutes ago. Dean quirks a brow, sliding his hands up Sam’s thighs to rest on his hips. Sam takes up a slow rocking motion, tiny little circles which drives Dean crazy and he can’t seem to remember how to form words so he just nods.

Sam smiles, leaning down and kissing Dean hard and sloppy, lips and teeth and Dean groans as he sucks Sam’s tongue into his mouth. They kiss for a few long minutes, Sam grinding his ass down onto Dean’s hardening dick, sliding slick along the length of him and it’s dirty and nasty and he needs more.

Breaking the kiss Dean latches his lips to Sam’s throat, sucking hard at his brother’s sweaty skin as he wraps an arm around his waist and pulls Sam down until they’re chest to chest. Sam groans, head thrown back and he’s spread open for Dean; knees on either side of Dean’s hips and Dean just has to touch. He can’t stop himself.

Sam’s breath hitches as Dean slides a finger deep inside; even after everything they did earlier Sammy’s still so tight. He can feel his come, hot and slick inside and when he slides his finger out it leaks from Sam and he chases it with his thumb down his brother’s balls.

“Dean!” Sam whimpers, body shaking and Dean holds him down to his chest tighter so he can’t wiggle away.

“I gotcha, Sammy. It’s ok.” He presses the words into Sam’s jaw line, sharp drag of his teeth as he pushes his come back inside Sam’s body and slides two fingers in along with it. Sam arches his back, lifting his hips and pushing his ass back against Dean’s hand. Sam keens softly, little gasps that make Dean ache deep inside his chest and he wants to keep Sam here all night, teetering on the edge with his fingers buried in his brother’s body.

“Please, please.” Sam licks his lips, rolling his hips to try to take Dean deeper. Dean twists his fingers, pulling them out to trace the stretched rim as Sam shakes against him.

“What do you want?” Dean asks, hiding his grin as he licks a strip up his brother’s throat to bite at his earlobe.

“Put them back in.” Sam grunts, twisting his head away from Dean to glare down at him and Dean can’t help it; Sam is too cute when he’s pouting and needy.

“What Sammy? Put what back in where?”

“You jerk!” Sam hisses, rolling his eyes before giving a long suffering sigh. “Jesus, Dean. Your fingers, want you to shove them up my ass, fuck me open on them.” Dean’s heart skips a beat, Sam can be filthy sometimes and it always makes Dean so damn hot.

“Come on, Dean. Know you want to. Know you like how I feel inside.” Sam’s voice drops to a whisper and he presses his lips to the smooth skin under Dean’s jaw. “Like feeling you inside me like that, all messy with your come and you could fuck your fist up there and you know what?” Dean’s eyes roll back in his head, hearing his baby brother so dirty like this is driving him insane. “I’d take it all, Dean.”

Dean growls, reaching up his free hand and grabbing the back of Sam’s hair, he yanks his brother’s head back and Sam yelps at the sudden movement. He bites hard at Sam’s collarbone as he shoves three fingers back inside his body. Sam goes rigid for a second, unbelievably tight around Dean’s fingers before he breathes out a ragged breath and relaxes. Dean grins against his brother’s throat, licking at the teeth marks marring his skin.

A few more twists of his hand, knuckles dragging across Sam’s prostate and Sam is gone; wild and fucking himself back against Dean’s fingers; grinding himself down against Dean’s stomach and Dean can feel him hard and leaking against his abs. It’s too much; he has to be inside Sam again. He wants to fill him up and mark him.

Dean pulls his fingers slowly out, swallowing Sam’s gasps of disapproval with a heated kiss before reaching down and grabbing the base of his dick; he guides himself up to Sam’s stretched opening and breaks the kiss, letting go of his brother’s hair and sliding his hand to the back of his neck.

“Look at me, Sammy.” He wants to see Sam’s face when he does this; he waits for his brother’s eyes to slant open, hazel blown wide as they lock on Dean's and he guides the head of his cock inside. Sam is so damn tight around him, the stretch as his brother takes him; so hot and slick and he can’t stop his hips snapping up and burying himself deep. Sam gasps, blunt nails digging furrows into Dean’s ribs as he tries to hold on; pain and pleasure flitting over his face and making his eyes squeeze closed again. So damn beautiful like this, impaled on Dean’s cock and loving every inch of it.

“Dean, don’t move! I can’t – ” Sam stutters out, licking his lips.

“You can, Sammy.” Dean watches Sam shake his head, hair sticking to the sides of his face and he pushes his fingers through the sweaty mess. “Come on, baby. Just like this.” Dean rolls his hips a little and Sam gasps, nodding and Dean drops his hands to his brother’s hips as Sam pushes himself up off Dean’s chest. He just sits there for a few long moments, Dean buried deep and it’s torture not to thrust hard up into that perfect tight heat. Sam trembles, his eyes snapping open and focusing down on Dean as a slow smile starts to pull his lips.

“Yeah?” Dean whispers, his voice sounding strained even to his own ears and Sam nods; bracing himself with hands on Dean’s chest as he finally starts to move. Slow tight circles, muscles trembling and each movement sends shocks of pleasure sizzling through Dean’s body. He watches Sam ride him, fucking himself on Dean’s cock harder and faster, head thrown back and groaning and Dean wants this to last forever but he can feel his orgasm building and knows he can’t last much longer, not with Sam wild on top of him like this.

Dean wraps his hand around Sam’s dick, squeezing and stroking and Sam is moaning his name like a mantra over and over. He flicks his wrist, dragging his thumb over the leaking head of his cock and Sam is coming, hot sticky ropes splashing up over Dean’s stomach and chest and his insides are clamping down around Dean so tight it’s almost painful. He grits his teeth and holds out until Sam is done, until he’s boneless and collapsing down onto Dean’s chest; he kisses the top of his brother’s head as he digs his fingers into Sam’s hips and sets a brutal rhythm. It only takes a few seconds before he’s coming, sinking his teeth into Sammy’s shoulder as he fills him up for a second time and it’s perfect.

He might have lost consciousness, his brain short circuiting and when he finally comes to Sam is snuggled up against his side, head resting on his shoulder asleep. Dean smiles and presses his lips to Sam’s forehead softly before slipping off to sleep himself.

Prompt Fic - Fake It (Dean & Sam R)

2009-01-13T20:21:18Z

Title: Fake It
Characters: Dean & Sam, Dean/OFC
Rating: R ish
Word Count: 504
Spoilers: S3
Warnings: angst, violence, HET *gasps*, character death
Disclaimer: My stories may be disturbing to some readers. Please read my journal disclaimer and all warnings. As always I own nothing :( it makes me sad. Everything belongs to The Kripke, lucky bastard.

Notes: This is for tygrrlyli's prompt of these lyrics by Seether, who I also stole the title from because titles are hard!! This was a really hard prompt even though the song is the perfect Dean song so I hope it doesn't suck. The rest of my fics can be found here and at my fic comm eroticdiscord

He smiled at Bobby as they said their goodbyes. Smiled and said they’d be in touch, that they’d be careful and work it all out. He smiled as he climbed into the Impala and kept it firmly in place even with the weight of Sammy’s eyes on him.

He pushed 100 until South Dakota was two states over and Sam had to pry his fingers off the steering wheel because Dean just couldn’t let go.

**

She was warm and soft, blonde hair and big blue eyes and she smelled like strawberry shampoo. She rocked against his fingers as he touched her, mouthing words across his throat as she came. She sucked him until her jaw ached and never said a word when he couldn’t get hard. She tucked her number into his jacket pocket when he dropped her off at her apartment and he smiled as she waved from her front steps.

**

“I’ll do it, Dean. I promise I’ll save you.”

It was another dusty book, another failed ritual, another dead end.

“I can do this. I know I can do this, let me do this.”

Dean just smiled and nodded and didn’t have the heart to tell Sammy that it was already too late

**

He played pool sloppy, ordering drink after drink until he could barely hold the cue. He bragged loudly when he pocketed their pay checks, smiled at their girlfriends and pretended not to notice when they followed him outside.

Two broken ribs and a loose back tooth and when Sam finished tapping up his side he threw back his head and laughed. Laughed through the pain until Sam had enough and Dean was still laughing when Sam disappeared into the shower except the sound was more like sobbing but without the tears.

**

He felt hollowed out, like his soul was already gone but he had Sam back and that’s all that mattered. He didn’t listen when Sam started begging, couldn’t listen when the begging turned to shouts and when Sam broke down and there were only tears Dean held him and told him they’d figure out a way and he smiled as he thumbed the tears from his brother’s cheeks.

**

He matched shots with Bobby, the whiskey burning all the way down. They talked about Dad and that hunt in Tuscon that went bad, they talked about cars and that bitch Bela Talbot and after the bottle ran dry and Bobby’s eyes started drooping Dean asked him to watch after Sam. Bobby stared at him hard then gave his word that he would and Dean smiled then helped the old hunter to bed.

**

He failed. He couldn’t save Dean no matter how hard he’d tried. He’d done everything he could but it hadn’t been enough and Lillith had won.

Dean was in Hell and it was his fault.

He failed.

He held his brother until the body had gone cold and Bobby had to pry his fingers off because Sam just couldn’t let go.

Prompt Fic - Room 21 (NC17 Dean/Castiel

2009-01-13T20:21:17Z

Title: Room 21
Pairings: Dean/Castiel
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 3,826
Spoilers: S4
Warnings: angel sex, slash, mentions of wincest, language, unbeta'd and it's late. You've been warned.
Notes: This is for realpestilence, chaotic_cupcake & zooeyrye :) Pesti prompted Dean/Castiel and cursed!sex! O.O *nervous* Hope this is ok, hun! If it doesn't suck I might even post it to comms lol

Pain so bright it became the entire world, pulsing and growing and the only thing he could hear is the sounds of his own screaming. The nightmare woke him, a brief moment of terror and then it all faded between frantic breaths. He didn’t remember anything and only the terror remained; dulled and ghosting at the edges of his mind. He looked over at the other bed, Sam still slept deeply and Dean was glad he hadn’t woken his brother. He didn’t want to have to try to explain anything to Sammy.

“He won’t wake up.” The voice out of the shadows was too familiar and he knew even before he turned that it was the Angel. Castiel stood by the dark television; his hands stuffed into the pockets of his tan overcoat as he leaned over and examined the pocket change that Dean had emptied out the night before. It would have been sort of funny, so fascinated with three quarters and a penny but Dean was more annoyed than amused and he really hated that while he and Sam slept some Angel could just waltz right into their room past all their seals and – well count his change. It sorta pissed him off.

But Castiel had pulled Dean from Hell, and well maybe he shouldn’t try to haul the Angel out of the room by the scruff of his neck and seem all ungrateful.

“What the Hell are you doing here?” Dean settled for instead as he scrubbed his hand over his face. He was still tired but he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping anymore tonight. Castiel straightened and turned to towards him, his face was as emotionless as ever but there was a heat to his eyes that was new, something Dean could feel more than see in the dim light of the motel room.

“Another of the Seals has been broken.” Castiel stated with a shake of his head, his gaze never leaving Dean’s and Dean felt a prickle of unease at the weight of it. He frowned and crossed around the foot of the bed, he wanted to keep his distance from Castiel; he was still wary of him and the whole Angel thing was still a bit too weird even for Dean and even though Dean was kinda positive that Castiel had some sort of Angel mojo that made Sam sleep through these visits he still didn’t want to chance that Sam would get woken up by their talking.

“Ok, so another Seals been broken but why are you here, Castiel?”

Castiel blinked slowly like the answer was obvious and Dean was some slow child and Dean felt frustration and annoyance bubbling up at that. Friggin Angels, always so cryptic and why the Hell couldn’t they just come out and say what they wanted? What was with all the verbal dancing?

“The Demon’s name is Asmodai.” Castiel began, his eyes flickering over Dean. “The son of Lilith, fathered by Sammael –“

“Yeah, ok. So he’s a bad guy and you and the rest of God’s Halo Brigade dropped the ball and you want Sam and I to do what?” Dean frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. Castiel kept watching him, creepier than usual and it was beginning to weird Dean out – more than usual.

Castiel shook his head and took a step closer towards Dean, the ten feet between them suddenly not feeling like enough anymore and Dean tensed a little.

“There is nothing either of you can do now to stop, Asmodai. He was defeated and sent back to Hell. That is not the point, Dean.”

“So what is the point? If you guys already did your thing then why are you here keeping me awake?”

Castiel tilt his head slightly to the side, brow knitting and jaw clenching as he studied Dean. Dean must be missing something, things felt off. Not quite right. Castiel closed the distance between them, a slow stride that gave Dean too many seconds to recognize the heat behind blue eyes as the Angel advanced.

Dean still wasn’t used to it, his personal space being invaded by someone that wasn’t Sammy. He had to swallow down his every instinct to strike out and push Castiel back a few feet. The guy got too damn close every time. Huge round blue eyes right up to Dean’s, so close that he could feel Castiel’s warm breath on his face and Dean couldn’t help it, he looked away; staring across the room at nothing as he clenched his jaw.

“Asmodai was raised by a blood orgy rite, a hundred of your kind –“ Castiel paused, licking at his chapped lips briefly and closing his eyes as if going back to the moment. “Coupling and sacrificing and bleeding each other to bring the Demon to earth.” A few snarky comments fluttered through Dean’s mind but he knew enough to keep quiet, Angels had no sense of humor.

“Lust, Dean. Asmodai is a Demon of Lust. We defeated him but not before –“ Castiel trailed off, leaning even closer until the tip of his nose brushed lightly against the stubble at Dean’s jaw. Dean pulled back, putting a little distance between he and Castiel. The hell was going on? Dean frowned, staring at Castiel and Oh Hell No. Castiel’s words fell into place and all this weirdness suddenly made sense.

“Woah there.” Dean took a quick step back, needing some more distance between them because, well that’s just wrong. Castiel finally opened his eyes and watched Dean’s retreat, gaze hot and wanting, desire and confusion. “Some lust Demon whammied you and you what? Came here and thought you could get lucky? Aren’t you supposed to be all pious and virginal and –“ Dean waved his hand in the air searching for another word. “Holy?”

“Do you find such things sinful?” Castiel asked, his tone amused but curious.

“What? Sex?” Dean asked, eyebrow shoot up and he couldn’t stop the grin. “Depends on the chick.”

Castiel didn’t look amused, he just stared at Dean like he didn’t get it at all. Dean sighed and shook his head. “Aren’t you supposed to be immune or something to all that? All the earthly pleasures and temptation?”

Castiel closed the distance between them again, Dean was only a few feet away from being backed against the wall and he definitely wasn’t going down that route so he stood his ground, let the Angel come to him. Castiel’s hands finally left his pockets, thin fingers raising and hovering, twitching like they wanted to touch.

“This body, Dean. I feel things that I never would have thought possible, so many smells and tastes and sensations. Asmodai woke something inside, something I have no name for. A longing that I can’t quiet and it’s growing, it’s consuming my every thought. I’ve prayed over this, for strength and guidance but this need, this compulsion to –“

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Dean’s paused, cleared his throat and shifted slightly back and away from Castiel’s almost-touch suddenly very aware that he was standing here in nothing but his boxers with a horny Angel ready to get all grabby. Yeah, not so great. “I know what lust is, but isn’t it a sin for you? Gay sex and all that, in the Bible or something? You can go out and pick up some girl, you don’t want to piss God off right?”

“The word of The Lord has always been twisted and turned for the convenience of man.” Castiel stated solemnly and his fingers finally made contact, light ghosting touch across Dean’s cheek that spread tingling through his skin. Dean almost flinched at the first brush, expecting to be burned as his mind turned to the red welt on his shoulder, but it felt like any other touch.

Castiel watched him intently, fingers traveling down to trace over Dean’s bottom lip. “In the image of The Father.” The words were spoken so softly that even at this short distance Dean almost missed them and before he had time to do anything more than blink Castiel was leaning forward and placing a feather light kiss to the corner of Dean’s lips.

Castiel’s eyes were huge and blue, staring at Dean so close that there didn’t seem to be anything else but those eyes and even when Castiel moved in for another kiss they never wavered from Dean’s. He stood there unmoving as Castiel’s lips moved over his, warm and moist and chapped and with each second they became bolder until Dean could feel the wet heat of the Angel’s tongue flutter against the seal of his lips.

“Dean?” Castiel’s brushed the word against Dean’s mouth and it wasn’t that Dean had never kissed another guy, he’d kissed his fair share of both of the sexes, it was just that this was an Angel an Angel in some guy’s skin, a guy that wasn’t too bad looking really but it was just way too much. He didn’t kiss meat suits, Angelic or Demonic, especially if said guy was locked somewhere inside his own head watching this like some fucked up movie.

“Is he inside there?” Dean asked before he could think better of it. He wanted to know, he had to know because if Castiel was Demon whammied and Dean knew a bit about that, then it was probably only going to get worse and worse until either Castiel got lucky or he died and getting laid always won out over dying. Castiel looked confused at Dean’s question and Dean sighed. “The dude, the accountant who’s body you’re in. When you went in there where did he go? Is he still in there with you?”

Castiel laughed and well, Dean wasn’t expecting laughter, Hell he wasn’t even sure before this moment that Castiel was capable of it at all.

“No, he is with The Lord. There is no one else in this vessel but me.” And before Dean could interrupt with the million other reasons why all of this was such an epically bad idea Castiel surged forward and captured Dean’s lips with his own. Dean only paused for a moment this time, on the long list of things he should go back to Hell for what was a little Angel corruption really? Dean reached up and wrapped his hand around the back of Castiel’s neck, holding the Angel to him as he opened his mouth and sucked Castiel’s tongue into his mouth.

Castiel made these soft noises as Dean kissed him, sighs and humming that were pure pleasure and Dean pulled out every trick in his book to keep the Angel making them. If this was going to be Castiel’s first and only time at this then Dean was going to make damn sure that it was good.

He wrapped an arm around Castiel’s waist, maneuvering the Angel until his back was flushed against the cheap wood paneling. Castiel didn’t seem to notice, eyes closed and lost in the movements of their lips and tongues. Dean broke the kiss, panting for breath as he placed a hand to the center of Castiel’s chest to stop the Angel from surging forward and claiming his lips again.

“This is fucked up.” Dean mumbled, more to himself than to Castiel. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” The weight of the situation pressed in on him again, making his heart triple time in his chest and his stomach roll and to make matters worse Sammy was asleep not ten feet away! Turning his head he looked over at his slumbering brother, Sam hadn’t moved an inch since Dean had woke up but that didn’t mean that once things got started that Sam wouldn’t wake up and catch them. Holy shit that’d be bad, Sam wouldn’t understand at all and –

“He won’t wake up, Dean.” Castiel’s voice cut through Dean’s moment of panic and he turned back to the Angel. He took a moment to drink in the sight of Castiel, who actually if Dean really thought about it was more than just ok looking; huge lust blown eyes and messy hair, a few days worth of stubble and yeah, not so bad at all.

Dean nodded, fingers flexing against Castiel’s wrinkled dress shirt as he swallowed down all the swirling thoughts and trepidations flooding through him. Castiel looked wrecked, his eyes burning bright and his lips kiss swollen and Dean could do this. He wanted to do this.

“Yeah. Ok.” Castiel came forward to kiss him again but Dean ducked his head and latched his lips to the smooth warm skin of Castiel’s throat. He licked and sucked until the Angel was trembling against him, hips rocking slowly against Dean’s in a maddening friction that was driving them both insane. Dean pulled at the white cotton shirt, untucking and sliding his hands under to grasp at heated skin. Castiel moaned and leaned into the touch, back arching off the wall and Dean nipped at the skin he’d been teasing.

Castiel had too many layers of clothes and that was the first thing Dean wanted to remedy. He peeled himself away from the Angel and slid Castiel’s overcoat off his shoulders, the dress shirt was next to go and the white undershirt below until finally Castiel was standing there bare-chested in front of Dean. Smooth warm skin laid out for him and Dean couldn’t help but taste, licking and nibbling his way over hard pecs as his hands settled heavy on Castiel’s waist, thumbs dragging over the heated skin just above the waistband of his slacks.

Dean felt Castiel’s hands sliding over his shoulders, palm fitting in the red welt and squeezing until Dean groaned. The pleasure of the touch was enough to steal his breath, the act so intimate that it sizzled through him and left him reeling and not for the first time the thought He pulled me from Hell. flooded his mind and it both scared and amazed him in a way he couldn’t understand.

Castiel’s fingers flexed against his bicep again bringing Dean back to the present and he took in a deep shuddering breath before grinding his hips hard into Castiel’s making them both gasp in pleasure. The action seemed to fuel something in the Angel, the lust curse fully awoken and Castiel’s hands and lips seemed to be everywhere at once. Dean’s mind couldn’t keep up, warmth and wet and firm fingers exploring and in all the sex that Dean Winchester had ever had nothing had ever been quite like this. It felt as if Castiel was everywhere; inside him, surrounding him, filling him until he couldn’t even think anymore, couldn’t even remember how to breathe.

Dean finally had to push the Angel away; it was either that or come in his boxers or maybe just die from sensory overload. He opened his eyes to see Castiel staring at him curiously and it took almost a minute before Dean was calm enough to speak without feeling like a total chick.

“My bag, by the bed. Inside the side pocket, go get the lube, man. You’re fucking killing me here.” He would have laughed at the confusion that flickered over Castiel’s face if he thought he could manage it without keeling over but Castiel only nodded and moved towards Dean’s duffle to retrieve the lube.

Dean leaned heavily back against the wall, grateful for the solidness of it because his legs felt weak and shaky and if this was just from the foreplay then the sex might just kill him. He watched Castiel fumble through the bag, pulling out the desired tube that Dean always kept a good supply of and he thought to tell Castiel to grab a condom from the box while he was there, but this was an Angel right? And did Angel’s have diseases? Dean was clean, well he was 99% sure he was clean and even if he wasn’t could an Angel catch anything like that? Might be interesting to go bareback, Angel come had to feel pretty amazing.

Castiel moved back to him and handed over the lube like he didn’t know what to do with it, and then Dean realized that he probably didn’t know what to do with it. He smiled and started pulling down his boxers.

“Might want to take those off.” He motioned to Castiel’s slacks and the obvious tent in the front of them. Dean grinned as Castiel quickly started to unbutton is pants and he slipped his own boxers off and kicked them away. Squeezing a generous amount of lube into his hand he watched as Castiel stripped; slacks and shoes, socks and boxers until they were both standing there staring at each other with their cocks hard and leaking against their stomachs.

He stood for a minute admiring Castiel’s body before stepping forward. Dean kissed him hard and sloppy as he wrapped his slick hand around the Angel’s erection. Castiel groaned into Dean’s mouth, a desperate sound as his hips snapped forward in counter to Dean’s firm stroking.

“Gonna let you fuck me.” Dean broke the kiss, biting the words into the Angel’s jawline. “Don’t usually bottom for anyone, but it’s not anyone that pulls me from Hell.” With that Dean stepped away, letting go of Castiel’s cock and turned to face the wall. He slid his slick hand back behind his balls and smeared lube over his tight hole, no other prep but he was sorta looking forward to the burn. Bracing his hands on the faux paneling Dean spread his feet and waited an eternity until he felt Castiel step behind him, warm and firm against his back as he wrapped an arm around Dean’s middle and pulled him tightly back to his chest.

“I would have taken you from that place even if I was not commanded to do so.” Castiel’s voice at his ear, warm and tickling against his sensitive skin making Dean shiver and he felt the wet tip of the Angel’s cock nudging against the crease of his ass. Dean closed his eyes and taking a long shuddering breath he reached behind and gripped Castiel and guided him to his entrance. A moment of pause and then Castiel was sliding inside, stretching and filling and Dean could feel it through every part of his body; a fire that consumed him with each slow slide until they were joined completely and he could feel Castiel’s hips flush against his ass.

The first thrust was torture, so slow and Dean had to bite his lip to keep from blasphemy. Castiel’s hand gripped Dean’s hip, fingers firm and holding and after the first few experimental movements the pleasure took over and Castiel snapped forward driving Dean to scramble at the wall for purchase.

“You feel so good.” Castiel whispered into the back of his hair and Dean wasn’t sure what he expected, some sweet slow girly love making or something but it sure as Hell wasn’t the fast brutal pace that Castiel started. Every pass pounding that spot inside that had Dean seeing stars and going insane. Slick slide of skin against skin, wordless moans and he was fucking back against Castiel just as hard as Castiel was fucking forward into him.

Angels must not know the etiquette of reach around but Dean wouldn’t hold it against him, bracing his forearm against the wall Dean wrapped his other hand around his cock and jerked himself off roughly in time with each of Castiel’s jarring thrusts.

The fingers on Dean’s hip tightened, digging in and bruising and he leaned forward to rest his forehead between Dean’s shoulder blades. Castiel's other hand came up to wrap his fingers around Dean’s shoulder, fingers fitting perfectly over the mark there and Dean felt the heat of the touch spread through his body making his head spin and his blood boil.

Heavy breath panted out along Dean’s spine, lips moving over sweaty skin and then Castiel bite hard at the back of Dean’s neck. He could feel the teeth breaking skin; bleeding him, marking him – again and the pain pushed him over the edge. Dean came over his fist, intense waves of pleasure breaking through him and the world whited out. When he came back to himself his hand was a sticky mess and he could feel Castiel still and trembling heavy against his back. The cock deep inside him gave one last twitch and Dean could feel it, hot inside him and just as good as he thought it would be. They rested there for long minutes, regaining their breath and finally when he thought enough time had passed that he could get away with it he elbowed Castiel lightly in the ribs.

“Off.” He grunted and reluctantly Castiel obeyed. Dean hissed softly when he felt Castiel slide out, come trickling down his balls and thighs and he was completely fucked out. He just wanted a shower then sleep for ten hours. Turning around he took in the sight of Castiel, he was still flushed and looked out of it and Dean couldn’t help the grin. He knew he was one amazing fuck and really Castiel hadn’t been that bad himself, well for a virgin Angel anyways.

They stood looking at each other for a few moments, Dean wasn’t sure what the proper ‘After fucking an Angel’ etiquette was.

“So this curse thing –“

Castiel quirked a brow and looked down at his nude body and then over to study Dean’s.

“It’s broken.”

“Good.”

Yeah, this was definitely one of those awkward moments. Dean turned as Castiel stooped and began gathering his clothes and he headed towards the shower. Maybe he could sleep another couple of hours and let Sam drive tomorrow. If he didn’t have Angel come running down his legs he’d say fuck it and just fall into bed. Yeah, maybe condoms weren’t such a bad thing after all.

He almost made it to the bathroom before Castiel’s voice stopped him dead.

“Incest is a mortal sin, Dean.”

Dean frowned, his heart thudding in his chest and he tried to remember if he’d slipped and called out Sammy’s name as he came. He couldn’t be certain, but it was a possibility and wasn’t that just awesome?

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked as he turned back around to face Castiel. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have ever and especially not with an Angel.

Castiel pulled on his pants, eyes locking on Dean’s from across the room.

“I think you know what that means.”

Dean blinked. Castiel’s words making him look over to Sammy still sleeping obliviously in his bed. Dean’s mouth went dry and he reached up to rub his fingers over the marks on the back of his neck. He could feel the wetness of blood there, a slight sting as his fingers moved over the wound and he looked back over to Castiel.

“Good thing I have an Angel to pull me back out.”

Ink (NC17 Linc/Michael)

2009-01-13T20:21:16Z

Title: Ink
Pairings: Linc/Michael
Rating: NC 17
Word Count: 2166
Warnings: incest, tattoo kink, language
Notes: This is for my sweetest pervy heliokleia!! I love you ♥ and I’m sorry this is so late. I hope you like it! I'm so nervous! O.O

*Please ignore any mistakes on Lincoln’s tattoos. I used pic references of Dom’s but couldn’t find any good ones.. so I just went with it LOL*

&&&

“I’m getting them removed.”

Linc paused; long neck beer paused halfway to his lips. He’d almost missed it, soft almost as if Michael were just thinking out loud, that Lincoln wasn’t supposed to hear. He looked over at his brother, sitting too close with their knees touching and staring out over the water, Mike looked half drunk but Linc knew he was far from it.

“Good.” Lincoln watched Mike for a few seconds longer before looking back at the harbor. Those tattoos didn’t belong on his little brother, Michael should have never had gotten them but Linc understood why he did. He was grateful but it was over now. Fox River should never have touched his brother and the ink was only a reminder of pain and desperation and fear.

They sat in silence for awhile longer, another beer shared before Mike left to return to Sarah and Linc tried not to think of Sophia.

&&&

He didn’t think about it again until a few weeks later. Michael didn’t act any differently and he still wore his long sleeved shirts and with Scylla and their new battle for freedom there really wasn’t a lot of time to think about anything but survival.

The room was little more than a store closet, small and dingy with empty shelves on the walls and an inch of dust over everything, but it was quiet and with Mike getting so many headaches lately; so many that it stirred those long ago fears and made Linc’s blood run cold just thinking of what could happen, it was the perfect place to hide out for a bit. He was worried about Michael, he knew it was worse than his brother would let on but Mike could never hide anything from Linc. Not even his best hiding spots.
The door wasn’t locked, it never was and Lincoln didn’t think twice about walking inside. Michael was sitting against the far wall, eyes closed and head back and a fresh stab of concern twisted in Linc’s stomach.

“Hey, you ok?” He shut the door behind him and Michael’s eyes slanted open, focusing on Linc in the dim light. He knew it’d be a lie even before Mike smiled and nodded and climbed to his feet, dusting his pants off like he hadn’t just been sitting there in obvious pain.

“Yeah, I’m fine. What’s going on, Linc?”

He didn’t want to tell Mike about the fourth card, how it seemed that the holder had just disappeared and they were running out of options. He hated that it was all his fault, every moment of the last year from Fox River to the Hell hole in Panama to this run down warehouse in LA and he’d never forgive himself for having dragged Michael into it all. Linc frowned, reaching up and rubbing the top of his shaved head as he watched his brother. Mike held his gaze for a few seconds before looking away and Linc stepped forward.

“Hey, Mike.” Michael didn’t look at him, looking everywhere but at his brother and Lincoln had to reach out, lay his palm on the side of his brother’s neck to get the younger man to finally turn his eyes back to him. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?” Linc asked, voice low with concern, thumb lightly brushing the smooth skin under Michael’s jaw. It took a few minutes for Mike to respond and Lincoln knew that his brother was running all the words through his mind first before opening his mouth.

“You don’t need to worry about me.” Mike began, shoulders sagging slightly and his eyes flickered away again. “It’s not like before, not like mom so you can stop hovering and treating –“ Linc didn’t let him brother finish, he didn’t want to hear lies and how Mike wasn’t important enough to worry about. They’d been running so long, so busy with staying alive that he’d almost forgotten how self-depreciative Michael could actually be.

“I’m not treating you like anything, man. I’m your brother; I’m allowed to worry about you.” Linc’s fingers tightened on the side of Michael’s neck briefly, just enough to get his brother to open his eyes and look back at him. So many things had changed, but still so many were still the same. Michael shrugged, taking a step closer to Lincoln.

“I’m just tired, feels like I haven’t slept in years.”

Lincoln nodded, he knew the feeling but he also knew that wasn’t everything but he wasn’t going to press. Not now, not when he finally got Michael to admit that maybe not everything was ok, even if it was just the excuse of exhaustion. Linc pulled Mike close, hand dropping from his brother’s neck to wrap around the smaller man and pull him close to his chest. Michael tensed at first, the closeness something they hadn’t shared in so long that it was almost foreign to them now and then after a moment he relaxed, wrapping his own arms around his brother and Linc could feel the stress leaving Michael’s body.

Warm and solid. Alive.

Michael’s breath was hot against his ear, soft puffs that stirred something deep inside Linc and he turned his head slightly to brush his lips against Mike’s jaw. Michael made a soft humming noise, a thoughtful sound before pulling back slightly to turn his own face towards Lincoln’s. Their lips met lightly, a brief softness that couldn’t really be called a kiss.

“Linc, I –“

Lincoln already knew, he knew every reason why they shouldn’t start this back up, why even just one kiss could really complicate things. He knew he should just let Mike go, finish this Scylla thing and let Mike go have his life with Sarah. He should, but he couldn’t. He loved his brother, more than anything, more than he could ever admit.

“I know, Mike.”

Michael licked his lips nervously, a brief shine of pink and slick shimmer of wetness and Linc wanted to taste him, fill himself up on Mike so that he could always remember just how his little brother tasted.

“Sarah –“ Michael stopped, blinking for a moment and then reaching up and cupping Lincoln’s face with both his hands. The kiss took Linc by surprise, it wasn’t tender and it wasn’t slow it was Michael wanting, needing something that only Lincoln could give him. Linc surged forward, one hand cradling the back of Mike’s head and the other holding firm at the small of his brother’s back pulling them together until he could rock his hips against Michael’s. They kissed until they were breathless, lips swollen and bruised and when they finally parted Michael traced his thumb over Linc’s spit shiny bottom lip as he smiled.

“Want to get you naked, Linc.” Michael’s eyes flickered to the store room door and then back again. “We got time?”

It took a few long seconds for Lincoln to find his voice, he nodded and shoved his hands up the sides of Mike’s shirt, calloused fingers tracing over muscular ribs until Michael gasped and shivered in pleasure.

“Yeah, we got time, Mikey.” He didn’t know if they did or not, it didn’t matter really, the only thing that mattered is he wanted to be inside Michael, wanted it so bad that he didn’t care if Sucre, Mahone or Hell even Sarah herself walked in. Michael smiled, reaching down and grabbing the hem of his shirt and Lincoln helped slide the clothing up and off and – Linc blinked, he expected to see thick dark lines of ink, intricate patterns and cryptic designs but Michael’s torso was clean. The tattoos were gone, the skin pale and smooth and he ran his hands over his brother’s stomach and up over Mike’s chest. Michael’s breath hitched, leaning forward into Lincoln’s roaming hands.

“Jesus, Mike.”

He had to taste, had to find out what all that unmarked skin would feel like under his lips. Ducking his head he kissed along his brother’s collar bone, sliding his tongue over clean salty skin and down to place a wet sucking kiss just over Michael’s nipple. Michael moaned softly, bottom lip caught between his teeth to muffle the noise as he reached for Linc’s shirt and tugged impatiently at the thin cotton tee. Lincoln laughed, stepping back and letting Mike strip the clothing from him and before his arms were even cleared of the material Michael was on him. Hands rough and gripping at Lincoln’s ribs, fingers digging into muscle as Mike attacked the heavy inked star on Linc’s shoulder.

Lips and tongue tracing the tattooed map, groaning hot into the skin as he bit at the center of the star. Linc hissed at the sharp scrap of teeth, bringing a hand up to cradle the back of his brother’s head. Michael had always loved his tattoos, would lie for hours tracing them with his fingers and lips way back before everything went so very wrong. Panting softly Michael pulled away, lips slick and moist and Linc had to kiss him, delving deep into his brother’s mouth like it was the only thing keeping him from dying.

Mike pulled away sharply, pushing Linc back roughly until his back hit the wall, fingers digging bruises into Linc’s waist as he held him back and Michael went straight for the Celtic Cross on Lincoln’s other bicep. He kissed and sucked, leaving trails of hot wetness as he rocked his hips forward into Linc’s. Linc was so hard he hurt, his cock trapped in denim and the maddening friction of Michael’s grinding was driving him insane. He was going to come in his pants like a teenager if Michael didn’t stop this soon.

“Mike –“ Linc groaned, hands going up to either side of his brother’s face and pulling the younger man off his skin and up to his lips. He traced swollen lips with his tongue, licking the taste of his skin from his brother and slowing this down for a moment. He kissed Michael slow and deep until he didn’t feel like he was dying and he slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against Mike’s as he stared into the blown silver depths of his brother’s eyes.

“Wanna put my cock in your mouth, Mike.” He watched heat flare in Michael’s gaze and his brother’s hips snapped forward hard against Lincoln’s hip. He nodded once and Linc had watched as Michael went easy to his knees. He reached out and ran his thumb along Michael’s jaw, tracing slight stubble until he could grasp his brother’s chin. Michael’s mouth fell open as his hands reached for Lincoln’s zipper.

Michael’s tongue was sin, pulling groans from Lincoln as he traced his cock with long wet stripes. Linc tried hard not to fuck forward, drive himself into his brother’s mouth but with each agonizing flick of Mike’s tongue it was getting harder and harder not to lose control. Lincoln heard the slow slide of metal teeth over the sharp breathing and soft groans and he knew where Michael’s hands were. He could imagine long thin fingers wrapping around Michael’s cock, slow firm strokes and pearling precome. He pulled Mike away, his cock slipping wet and red out of his brother’s mouth as Michael gazed up at him in question. Linc grinned, moving Michael’s head to the side and back so that he could gaze down his body and watch the leaking head of his brother’s cock disappear rhythmically into his loose fist as Michael jerked himself off.

“Should see yourself, Mikey.” Lincoln reached down and grabbed the base of his cock, he felt wrecked, Michael made him insane. He pulled his brother’s head back to him and shoved his dick into Michael’s mouth. Mike groaned around him, lips stretching wide and tongue flattening as he sucked Linc deep into his mouth. Lincoln didn’t hold himself back this time, he couldn’t. He grabbed the back of Michael’s head and fucked his brother’s mouth in deep slow strokes until he could feel Mike gagging around him and that’s all it took. He thrust one last time feeling Michael’s lips tight around the base of his cock and he was coming. Linc held Michael’s head still as he unloaded down his throat, waves of pleasure burning through him, consuming. He could feel Michael swallowing around him, the vibration of his brother’s moans traveling through his dick and straight to his brain and it was almost too much.

An eternity later Mike slid off and Lincoln reached down to pull him up. Michael was warm and pliant, loose post-coital and Linc reached between them to wrap his fingers around his brother’s softening cock to stroke lightly. Michael hissed at the touch, too sensitive after just bringing himself off but he didn’t try to move away. Linc grinned and leaned in to kiss his taste from Michael’s mouth.

“I hover?” Linc asked finally breaking the kiss, resting is forehead against Michael’s. Michael just laughed and kissed him again.

Prompt Fic - Plastic (NC17 Dean/Sam)

2009-01-13T20:21:14Z

Title: Plastic
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 1494
Spoilers: Pre-Series
Warnings: bottom!Dean, slash, smut, incest, pwp, underage (Sam is 16), language, unbeta'd
Disclaimer: My stories may be disturbing to some readers. Please read my journal disclaimer and all warnings. As always I own nothing :( it makes me sad. Everything belongs to The Kripke, lucky bastard.

Notes: rah_ram prompted me with THIS and my muse sorta ran off with it lol Feedback makes me happy :) The rest of my fics can be found here and at my fic comm eroticdiscord

Sam finished out his sophomore year in Chatam New Jersey, which sorta sucked in Dean’s opinion because it was looking like they were staying put for the entire summer and Chatam wasn’t exactly full of entertainment.

Ok, well maybe that was more Dean’s problem than Sam’s because Sam seemed perfectly happy with sticking around their small farm house with his nose stuck in a book. What a freak, and Dean was sure to tell him that little piece of observation every chance he got because it was Dean’s God given right to piss him off and tease him every chance he got. Big brother law. Life was sweet sometimes.

It all would have stayed sweet too; Sam all domestic and fixing homemade dinners and Dean and Dad hunting down all the freaky shit in the nearby Great Swamp except Sam had to go and ruin it all with asking Dad for a license. A license. Legal one too, and what the Hell did Sam need with a legal license? He’d been driving since he was thirteen and Dean could go into the City and get Sam as many licenses as he wanted at Kinkos but No, Sam wanted it legal. ”Something of my own, Dean. Something really mine that means something.” Dean had listened to it for forty minutes after Dad had stormed off and finally he just shrugged and nodded and the next day he drove down to the DMV and picked up the little manual book and yeah, the look on Sam’s face was totally worth it, so maybe it wasn’t as dumb shit as Dean thought.

Sam was bouncing off the friggin’ walls the day of the test, all huge dimple grins and nervous energy and finally Dean had had enough. They got to the DMV an hour before the test and Dean was all too happy to drop Sam off for a couple hours why he went down Main to flirt with Nora Birch at the Mini-plex.

It really wasn’t his fault that he forgot all about picking Sam up, it was Nora’s definitely. She took off work early and she let him slide off her panties in the back of the Impala and that so trumped getting some lame license and it totally made it all her fault.

Dean logic.

He got home about six, twirling the Chevy’s keys on his finger as he pushed through the front door.

“Honey, I’m home!” He called out shutting the door behind him and tucking the keys into his pocket. The house was silent. Sam should have been home by now; spaghetti or hamburgers or the sweet sweet smell of mac’n cheese should be making his stomach growl and drawing him into the kitchen where Sam would be stirring something or chopping something or whatever, but the kitchen light was off and there were no foody smells and –

“Aw, shit.” Dean sighed, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the couch. Sam was probably pissed. It’s not like Sam couldn’t walk the few miles back home so Dean knew it wasn’t anything like that, it was more serious. Sam had been excited, probably exploding with pride because of course Sammy would have aced the damn test and Dean had blown him off to get laid. Yeah, Sam was pissed and Dean felt like a royal asshole.

He climbed the stairs quietly, listening for Sam’s whiney alternative music or the sounds of girly sobbing or something else to gauge just how bad the situation was. Everything was silent except for the squeaking of the stairs. Dean paused at Sam’s closed bedroom door; he could practically feel the teenage angst rolling through the thin wood. Best to do this quick. Plastering a smile on his face he threw open the door.

“Sammy! Lemmie see it, man. I bet you had a great dork face.”

Sam did NOT look amused. He sat cross legged on his bed, War & Peace or some equally huge and nerdy book on his lap and he was shooting daggers at Dean.

“Why the Hell do you care, Dean?”

Dean rolled his eyes and shrugged. Yeah, Sam was pissed and Dean felt worse because he could also see that Sammy was hurt and Dean was the worst brother ever, but of course he’d never let Sam know that.

“Come on, don’t be a bitch about it. I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up, I’m here now so let me see it.”

Sam glared for another ten seconds before offering a loud suffering sigh and dug out his wallet. He held out the thin plastic card and Dean snatched it from his fingers with an amused snort and another “Bitch”.

“Sam Osbourne.” Dean quirked a brow and looked at his brother. Sam grinned, his eyes shining and Dean couldn’t help but return it. “Awesome! And your dork face isn’t too bad either.”

Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes and stood up to take the license back but Dean held it just out of reach and shook his head.

“Organ donor though? Come on man, seriously no one wants a piece of Sammy inside them.”

Sam laughed, quirking a brow and reached out to slide a finger into the front belt loop of Dean’s jeans and tugged lightly.

“I don’t know, Dean. You like having a piece of me inside you.”

Dean’s eyes went wide and his dick was traitorous. He let Sam tug him closer, fitting their hips together and he could feel the hardening line of his little brother through layers of denim. Awesome! Sam wasn’t bitchy anymore and Dean was going to get laid twice in one day. Definitely awesome! He didn’t even care that he was grinning like an idiot.

Sam plucked his license away from Dean and tossed it onto his bed before leaning in and latching his lips to Dean’s throat. Closing his eyes Dean curled his fingers in the back of his brother’s hair, moaning as sharp teeth grazed across his skin and fingers wiggled their way into his pants to drive him insane. He fucked against Sam’s hip, rubbing and grinding their bodies together until they were both breathless and flushed and kiss bruised.

They wasted no time with their clothes, shucking them off and tossing them away. Sam was miles of tanned skin, salty under Dean’s tongue and he could never get enough of his brother’s taste. He mapped hard muscles and scars with fingers and lips; apologizing and promising with soft kisses and firm strokes until Sammy was begging underneath him. Giving his little brother’s cock one last lick Dean relented and let Sam flip them, wrapping his arms around Sam’s shoulders as he settled between Dean’s thighs.

“Gonna fuck you so hard, Dean. Won’t let you forget me again.” Sam growled dragging spit slick fingers behind Dean’s balls as his teeth worked the sensitive flesh below Dean’s ear. He gasped at the first touch, finger firm and circling him until he was dizzy with the pleasure, the anticipation of it and fuck if Sammy wasn’t a first class tease because as soon as he opened his mouth to demand more Sam kissed him hard and rough, stealing the words from his lips and the breath from his lungs until he was reeling and lost and only the burning pleasure of Sam’s finger sliding deep kept him grounded.

Sam worked him open slowly, long fingers stretching and twisting and pulling noises from Dean that he’d deny to his dying day. Pure torture and if he could ever hate Sam it’d be now, fucker making him beg and need and keeping him just on the edge and maybe Sammy was still a little pissed because he was definitely trying to kill Dean.

“Jesus, Sammy. Come on!” He reached up, tangling his fingers in the back of Sam’s hair and pulling his brother’s head down to his until their foreheads bumped together. Dean stared up into Sam’s eyes, hazel fox slanted and mischievous and he wanted to punch Sammy or hold him down and fuck him, he wasn’t really sure which, but if Sam didn’t get this show on the road then Dean really couldn’t be held responsible for his actions.

“Yeah. Yeah, ok. Such a slut, Dean.” Sam grinned and Dean bit his chin hard in retaliation.

Lube and a condom, slick thick heat as Sam sunk into him and it was such a slow agonizing pleasure that Dean couldn’t do anything but hold on. Sam licked at the sweat on Dean’s throat, tongue tracing Dean’s thundering pulse as he found a rhythm, whispering ”Tight.” and ”So good.” and ”Dean.” into flushed skin as he snapped his hips forward. Dean was too far gone for words, hips rising to meet each movement driving Sam harder and deeper until there was only Sam. Always Sam.

He came with Sam’s cock buried deep inside him and smooth plastic sweat-stuck to his spine.

When We're Alone (NC17 Dean/Sam)

2009-01-13T20:21:13Z

Title: When We’re Alone
Author: ianthe_aveira
Pairings/Characters: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: Pre-season
Warnings: pwp, slash, smut, wincest, underage (Sam is in his teens but I didn’t specify an age), language, unbeta'd
Word Count: 1282
Disclaimer: My stories may be disturbing to some readers. Please read my journal disclaimer and all warnings. As always I own nothing :( it makes me sad. Everything belongs to Kripke, lucky bastard.

Notes: Happy Birthday, aelfsiden!! I love you ♥ ♥ You deserve all the happiness in the world, twin and I hope you have an awesome day!! I hope you like ♥

I can’t believe I porned lol My muse has been MIA for a long time now. Thanks to rah_ram for making sure this didn't suck lol The rest of my fics can be found here and at my fic comm eroticdiscord

Sam tasted like cinnamon, overly sweet and intoxicating and it made Dean’s tongue tingle as he traced slowly over Sam’s lips. A soft moan, fingers tightening into the sides of his t-shirt and those lips parted just enough to let him inside. The burst of flavor along his taste buds, soft wet heat of his brother’s mouth as he swept in deep. Tasting, devouring, drowning in the sensation of it. He could feel the smooth stickiness of Big Red gum between teeth and cheek and he chased it with his tongue until Sam giggled. Nipping at his brother’s bottom lip, sucking the sweet plump flesh into his mouth before drawing away. Sam’s eyes opened slowly, hazel more brown than green with pupils blown wide and hazy and Dean felt as if he could lose himself there, in his brother’s eyes and he had to kiss him again.

Dean tilt Sam’s head back, soft fingers along his baby brother’s jaw, thumb smoothing over warm skin and angling so that he could delve deeper into that forbidden pleasure. Sam shivered against him, melding himself tighter against Dean’s body as he hung on and Dean could feel the hard hot length of his brother against his hip through double layers of denim. He slid his hand up into the back of Sam’s hair, long strands falling between his fingers, tickling his palm as he cradled his brother’s head. Sam keened into his mouth, soft noises that Dean licked away before parting again.

He pressed their foreheads together, panting softly and sharing cinnamon tinted breath. Dean opened his eyes, flutter of eyelashes shuttering Sam into vision as Sam rocked against him. Slow grind of hips, hard-ons aching with not enough friction and Dean wanted to touch, taste, bring Sammy off with his mouth and his hands and his cock. He wanted to watch his brother shatter underneath him and then gather the pieces and put Sam back together again so that he could do it all over again.

“Dean” Just a soft puff of breath against Dean’s lips, Sam’s fingers sliding up and down his sides; tracing his ribs and tangling in his t-shirt. Dean nodded slowly his hands going down to firmly grasp Sam’s hips, just holding on for a moment before walking Sam back until his back was pressed against the bedroom wall.

Dean placed a soft kiss to Sam’s lips, feather light and barely there before sliding down to his knees. He could smell his brother, no longer cinnamon but arousal and heat and his fingers flexed against Sam’s waist as he breathed deep. Fingers carded through his hair trying to grip the short strands before giving up and resting heavy on the back of his head, waiting and wanting and Dean smiled.

Dean slid his hands up Sam’s waist, rucking his t-shirt up as his fingers slowly teased higher. Caressing, blunt nails biting and making Sam gasp and Dean licked his lips, leaning close to drag his teeth and lips over every inch of exposed skin.

“Jesus, Dean.” Sam’s breath hitched, words wavering as he stared down at Dean. “Stop teasing.” Whispered and pleading and Dean could never deny his Sammy anything. Flicking his tongue across the ridge of Sam’s belly button Dean grinned and let Sam’s shirt fall back down as his fingers began work on his brother’s fly. Button and zipper quickly opened, pulling denim and cotton down his brother’s narrow hips to bunch at his knees and Dean sat back on his knees as Sam was revealed. Long cock thick and flushed, curving up towards Sam’s belly and Dean smiled, looking up to lock his eyes on Sam’s. Sam was flushed and panting, lips kiss bruised and shiny and Dean tightened his fingers on Sam’s hips as he leaned forward and licked a wet strip up the side of his brother’s cock. Sam’s eyes flashed wide, groaning and trying to rock his hips forward. Dean grinned, thumbs padding rough over the bones of Sam’s hips before sucking the head of his brother’s dick between his lips.

Sam made such beautiful noises as Dean slid farther down his cock, soft moans and gasps that made Dean ache and shiver. He sat up a slow rhythm, swallowing precome and saliva as he worked Sam deeper into his throat.

“Dean. Oh fuck.” Sam’s voice was wrecked, broken with a loud whimper as Dean fucked his throat with his brother’s cock. Sam was trembling, hands palming the back of Dean’s head and Dean could tell he was close. He eased his grip on Sam’s waist and slid his hands around to grab handfuls of his brother’s ass, squeezing and pulling Sam hard against his mouth. Free now Sam’s hips snapped forward hitting the back of Dean’s throat and he choked at the sudden assault, eyes squeezing closed as Sam started to fuck him.

Dean let the tips of his fingers slide between the halves of Sam’s ass, spreading and teasing as he circled the tip of his finger over his brother’s entrance before pressing firmly against the tight ring. Sam gasped and came down Dean’s throat, thick hot bursts come coating his tongue and dribbling from his lips as Sam thrust through his orgasm.

Dean ran his finger lightly along his brother’s hole one last time before drawing back, sliding Sam’s cock from between his lips as he looked up at his little brother. Sam bit at his bottom lip, cheeks flushed red and bangs sticking to his forehead. Reaching down Sam ran his thumb over Dean’s bruised lips, smearing his come as he stared down at Dean with something like awed wonder and Dean couldn’t help but grin.

“Come on, Sammy. I’m dying here.” Dean reached down and squeezed his cock through his jeans, he was aching and fuck if he was going to come in his pants if Sam didn’t hurry up and do something…anything to help him out. Sam nodded, blinking slowly in post-coital haze and pulled Dean up to lick the stickiness from Dean’s lips. It was torture and before Dean could open his mouth to voice his frustration Sam turned them, reversing their positions and pushed Dean back against the wall. Dean watched as his brother sunk down to his knees in front of him and fumbled with the button on his jeans.

Dean groaned and pushed Sam’s hands away, flicking open the button and yanking down the zipper. No way could he last long enough, he was on the edge of orgasm and just the sight of Sam all fucked out on his knees staring up at him like this was enough.

Dean pulled his aching cock out of his boxers and grabbed the back of his brother’s hair with his other hand. Fingers curling in too-long hair as he held Sam’s head steady and pumped his cock hard. It only took a few firm strokes before Dean was coming, thick ribbons of come painting Sam’s lips and cheek and those hazel eyes wide and staring up at him the entire time.

Dean blinked the world back into focus, his body humming and burning and his legs felt like rubber. Not trusting himself to stay standing he dropped slowly to his knees in front of Sam, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close as he leaned forward to lick his come off his little brother’s face. Sam trembled against him, whimpering softly as his lips found Dean’s. They kissed slow and deep, sharing the taste of each other until they were breathless. Salt and bitter now, but Sam had a whole pack of Big Red and Dad wasn’t going to be home for another week.

♥

Drabbles

2009-01-13T20:21:12Z

Because my muse has gone AWOL :( I decided to post my drabble collection.

Drabbles (mostly 100 words give or take lol) Warnings include: drug use, underage, blasphemy, language, non-con, violence, kink, slash, wincest, het, bottom!everyone, top!everyone, blood, bad spelling, bad grammar, dubious stuff and other things. Please read individual warnings, prompts and ratings.

***

These started off as comment porn drabbles.

Dean/Jess NC17
Bobby/John NC17
John, Dean, Sam R
John/Ellen NC17
Dean/Sam NC17
Dean/Jo PG
Dean/Sam PG
Dean, Sam PG
Dean/Sam NC17
H.H.Holmes, Jo R
Dean, Sam, Michael (Something Wicked) PG
Sam/Jo NC17
John/Dean/Sam NC17
Girl!Sam/John R
Dean/Cherry Pie R

***

These were posted at 100wordsofsmut

Girl!Dean/Ash drabble!verse (with a side of Sam) NC17ish all through.
You wanna ride in my big black car, baby

Sam/Fratboys NC17
Dean, OMC R
Andy PG
Sam/Dean NC17
Possessed!Sam/Bobby NC17
Meg/Dean NC17
Sam/Dean/OMCs NC17
Caleb/Sam/Dean NC17
Dean, Sam, Bobby (fuck or die pt1) R
Dean, Sam, Bobby (fuck or die pt2) R
Dean, Sam (fuck or die pt3) R
Sam, Dean, John & John/Sam PG13
Dean, Sam PG13
Dean/Sam NC17
Dean/Sam/Emily (Scarecrow) NC17
Jensen, Jared, mentions of Sandy PG
John/Dean/Sam NC17
Sam/Dean/Priestly NC17
Sam/Dean NC17
Dean/Sam NC17
Dean/Sam R
Jensen, Kane R

Drabble WAR!

This started with aelfsiden and I battling between her Girl!Sam and my Jo for Dean lol then rah_ram decided to play! NC17ish throughout. It’s a PORN DOWN!

Aelfsiden: Girl!Sam/Dean
Mine: Dean/Jo
Aelfsiden: Girl!Sam/Dean
Mine: Dean/Jo
Rah Ram: Dean, Jo, Girl!Sam
Aelfsiden: Girl!Sam, Jo
Mine: Jo, Girl!Sam
Aelfsiden: Girl!Sam, Jo
Mine: Jo, Girl!Sam
Rah Ram: Dean, Jo, Girl!Sam
Aelfsiden: Girl!Sam, Jo

Open Up, Baby (NC17 Dean/Sam)

2009-01-13T20:21:11Z

Title: Open Up, Baby
Author: ianthe_aveira
Pairings/Characters: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 6,120
Spoilers: None
Warnings: bondage, domination, kink, slash, smut, incest, pwp, rough sex, language, bottom!Dean
Disclaimer: My stories may be disturbing to some readers. Please read my journal disclaimer and all warnings. As always I own nothing :( it makes me sad. Everything belongs to The Kripke, lucky bastard.

Notes: This story is based on the amazing artwork of ukulelehoney who's naughty pictures here inspired my muse! She was so awesome to give me permission to write a story to go with her pics. So everyone go over there and tell her talented and amazing she is and how HOT the art is! :D Beta'd by the awesome bouncingball67 all mistakes are mine. Feedback makes me happy :) The rest of my fics can be found here and at my fic comm eroticdiscord

The room was frou-frou. That’s the only word for it and Dean hated it. It was bad enough that he and Sam had to pretend to be together for this job, some spirit that was attacking newlyweds at some lame couples-only bed and breakfast, and really that was enough to make Dean feel seven types of weird but this monstrosity of a room was just icing on the fucked up cake. Dean stood just inside the doorway; as far as he dared entering, duffle clenched tightly in one hand as Sam wandered around the flowery bedroom.

“It’s not so bad.” Sam shrugged, fingers trailing over the sheer pink silk canopy over the huge antique bed.

“Not so bad?” Dean blinked, eyes flickering around the room. Roses on the wallpaper, roses on the bed spread, roses even on the damn pink drapes. Everything shades of pink and red and forest green. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing, Sam? This it’s pretty fucking far from not so bad.” Sam’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Dean. Whatever, let Sammy throw a princess hissy fit, Dean didn’t give a shit. His brother was probably truthfully loving the room, real-life mirroring all his girly fantasies or some shit.

“We’ve stayed in worse, Dean. Just chill out, it’s just for a few nights until we figure out what’s going on here and then we’ll hole up somewhere full of mildew and stuffed animal heads so you can recharge your manliness.”

Yeah, Dean wanted to punch Sam’s teeth down his throat, but Dean Winchester didn’t hit girls and right now Sam was this close to wanting them to do each other’s hair and have a pillow fight.

“Whatever.” Dean sighed, swallowing it up and finally entering the room. He chucked his duffle onto the Queen Ann style chair and was almost disappointed when the musty antique didn’t crumple into expensive firewood. Damn room didn’t even have a mini-bar. “Smells like old lady in here.” He grumbled crossing over to the bed and throwing himself back onto it and sinking into the feather comforter which, ok wasn’t so bad, even sorta comfy but he plastered a scowl on his face just for the principle of it.

Sam chuckled and shook his head before turning and kicking off his boots. “Just try not to break anything and take off your damn boots, you’re getting mud all over…” Dean didn’t let him finish, just picked up one of the overstuffed pillows and threw it as hard as he could at his brother’s giant head. Sam scowled and narrowed his eyes as he picked the pillow up off the ground. His hair was all mussed on one side where the pillow had whomped him and it was all Dean could do not to wake the whole B’n’B with his laughter.

“It’s not funny, asshole. Real mature.” Sam tossed the pillow back onto the bed and Dean dramatically wiped a tear as his laughter finally died down.

“Oh yes, Samantha. It’s fucking hilarious!” Deciding that maybe he might be pushing too far too quick Dean sat up and began undoing the laces of his boots. The old lady that ran this joint was nice in a weird New England way and he really wasn’t asshole enough to wreck her stuff, especially after she’d given him double helpings of pecan pie at dinner. Dusting a bit of dried mud off the bed covering he let his boots drop with a loud thud to the floor before resting back against what seemed like a million pillows piled up at the head of the bed.

Sam was sulking. Perfect. Dean rolled his eyes, crossing his arms behind his head as he watched his brother sort through his duffle to change for bed. A sulking Sam was bad for everyone and such an attitude could last days, Dean knew that from experience.

“Ok, ok.” Dean sighed. “I’m sorry I threw a pillow at your head.” Sam stopped in his search and looked over his shoulder at Dean; he was still pouty so Dean rolled his eyes. “And I’m sorry I called you Samantha, and I’m sorry I told Mrs. Raintree that you wore a full on gown to our wedding and that you sobbed through the ceremony because you were so flooded with emotion.”

He wasn’t really sorry for any of it, especially the wedding story because it was friggin priceless to see Sam’s face when he was telling the lie to the old woman and even more priceless when she misted up and patted Sam’s cheek in sympathy and understanding. Yeah, the only thing he was sorry about is that he didn’t have a camera. He would have put that photo right in the front of Dad’s journal and it would have been the best ever.

Sam stared at him for a few minutes trying to gauge if Dean was telling the truth or not so Dean put on his best I’m so telling the truth so you better believe me look and apparently it worked because Sam just shrugged and pulled out a pair of sweat pants from his bag.

“Whatever, Dean. Let’s just go to bed, ok? We have to hit the library and records tomorrow and I’m tired.”

“Bed? Man it’s like nine o’clock, it’s not even like we drove all day or anything. Let’s go out, get a few beers, find some hot chicks and…”

“No, Dean. Jesus, man. We’re supposed to be undercover here, can’t blow this thing just because you want to prove your manhood.”

“Huh.” Dean frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam shook his head, grabbing his tooth brush and heading for the door. Dean sat up in the bed. “No way. What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sam stopped at the door, turning and jabbing his toothbrush in Dean’s direction. “It means you’ve been acting like an asshole ever since you found out that we had to play a gay couple for this job. Like if you’re a big enough douche no one is going to question whether-or-not you have a dick between your legs just because you take it up the ass. That’s what it means.” Sam was flushed; color in his cheeks and his eyes blazing and Dean quirked a brow.

“Who said I’m the one that takes it up the ass? You’re clearly the chick in this relationship and everyone knows it.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Sam muttered, clearly frustrated and Dean was having way too much fun. Sam squared his shoulders, staring at Dean as he shook his head. “If we were actually fucking you’d beg to take my cock, Dean, you’re just a bottom sort of a guy.”

Dean’s jaw fell open. What the hell did that mean? And if he could find his voice he was going to ask Sam just that, come on. He was Dean Winchester, he didn’t beg for cock, period. End of the damn story.

“That’s what I thought. Can’t even deny it.” Sam was being smug as well as a total dick and damnit now would be a great time to kick his little brother’s ass, but he just sat there staring and he had no idea why. The minutes stretched and Sam finally blinked, something flickering across his face as they both stared at each other. “Whoa, wait a second.” Sam took a step forward and Dean’s eyes widened slightly at the approach. “Is – Is that what you want, Dean?” Sam’s voice had dropped to a whisper.

Hell no! That’s not what I want, you idiot. You think I’m like that? Gay for my little brother? You’re stupider than you look, Sammy now shut the hell up and go brush your teeth. That’s what he would have said but when he tried to say anything it just got all caught in his throat so he closed his mouth tight instead and glared. Sam didn’t glare back, in fact he wasn’t even staring anymore he was sorta looking off to the side at nothing like he was thinking and trying to figure something out and Dean offered up a silent prayer to whatever God that Sam would just turn around and drop this bullshit.

“Jesus, Dean.” Sam finally broke the silence, his voice kinda thick and husky and that sorta weirded Dean right the fuck out. Sam looked at him then, eyes dark and heated but not with frustration or anger this time and Dean felt his stomach flip. Shit. Shit! This is bad. It’s not like Dean thought about Sam like that, well not all the time anyways. Only like when he was really drunk and horny and it’s only because Sam had huge freak hands and…

Sam dropped his clothes and toothbrush that he was holding to the floor, and Ewww so unhygienic and crossed the room in four quick strides. Dean watched with increasing horror as his brother approached, scooting back on the bed until his back was pressed against the headboard and fluffy pillows spilled out around him. Dean must have looked like a deer caught in headlights or something because Sam stopped at the foot of the bed, sorta tensed up and just stared at Dean. It made him uncomfortable, really friggin uncomfortable to have Sam looking at him like that because it was a look he recognized; a look of uncertainty, hunger and desire and Jesus, this was his little brother! His cock shouldn’t be twitching in his jeans and he sure as hell shouldn’t be thinking about Sammy’s cock, but he was and yeah, this was seriously fucked up.

“Go..Go brush your teeth, Sam.” It was lame, but it was the only thing he could get himself to say. Sam shook his head, bottom lip caught between his teeth and then he was rounding the bed and there was nowhere for Dean to go and he watched stunned at Sam stopped, reached out with one of his big freakin’ hands and curled his fingers around the back of Dean’s head. Oh Christ. Dean blinked and the next thing he knew he was being pulled up as Sam leaned down and Sam was kissing him.

Dean was too shocked to react, his brother’s lips moist and hot and demanding as they moved over his and he should push Sam away, be pissed off and stop this but he couldn’t and maybe some part of him didn’t want to because he curled his fingers in Sam’s t-shirt and instead of pushing away he was pulling his brother closer.

Sam made a soft noise in the back of his throat, his tongue flicking out across Dean’s lips and that was it. Dean was gone and he was kissing Sam back like his life depended on it. He couldn’t think of how wrong this was, he could only think how good this felt and how Sam tasted like sweet pecan pie and the merlot they had with dinner and he sucked Sam’s tongue into his mouth as they devoured each other. They kissed until they were breathless, gasping and panting as they parted and Dean felt light headed as all his blood rushed south.

“Why didn’t you say anything? Jesus, Dean.” Sam bumped his forehead against Dean’s softly, their eyes slanting open to stare cross-eyed at each other. “You should have said something, man.” Dean didn’t have time to reply, didn’t know what he would have said even if Sam had given him the chance. Sam kissed him again, slower this time and mapped the inside of Dean’s mouth with his tongue. Dean could only hold on, opening to his brother as his heart threatened to explode in his chest. God, yes this was good.

He felt Sam’s fingers twitch against the back of his head, curling like he was trying to get a handful of the too-short strands to pull them even closer and Dean moaned before he could stop it, moaned like every chick he’d ever done the same thing too and it would have been embarrassing if there was enough blood left in his brain to think about it. Sam made a choked noise, breaking the kiss and taking his hand away from Dean’s head. Dean felt shaky and he opened his eyes confused about why Sam had stopped. It took a second to realize that Sam was pulling his shirt off and Dean couldn’t help but stare as miles of tanned flesh was revealed. It’s not like he’d never seen his brother without a shirt, hell he’d seen Sam with a lot less on but this was different. This time it was ok to stare.

“Sam.” Dean swallowed hard, eyes drifting over the cut muscles of his brother’s torso. “Jesus, fuck Sammy.”

Sam tossed the shirt to the floor, climbing up on the bed next to Dean and settling on his knees. Dean mirrored his brother, he could feel the heat rolling off Sam’s body, too close and Dean wanted to touch. Reaching out he slid his hands over Sam’s shoulders, thumbs trailing over his brother’s collar bone and down over his chest slowly. Sam’s eyes shuttered closed, and he shivered under Dean’s touch. Dean wanted to kiss him again, taste the soft noises that escaped Sam’s lips, file it all away just in case this was the only time he’d be allowed to touch.

“—Dean.” Sam moaned, soft exhale against Dean’s lips and he reached for the hem of Dean’s shirt. “Wanna see you.” Sam closed the distance between them, catching Dean’s bottom lip between his teeth and biting gently.

Sam drew Dean’s arms up above his head, fingers almost bruising around his wrists as Sam held them there. “Stay.” One word, a command sunk into Dean’s lip with sharp teeth. He nodded breathless and reeling, he’d do whatever Sammy wanted, he always had. Sam smiled mischievous, eyes fox slanted as he stared at Dean. Dean blinked, the world tilting a bit as his blood thundered through his ears. He’d be worried if it were anyone but his brother, he trusted Sammy with his life.

Sam licked his lips, reaching out to slide his fingers up under Dean’s shirt; pads of his fingers ghosting over Dean’s stomach, tracing old scars and hard muscles until Dean groaned and leaned heavy into the touch. Sam was taking this too slow, Dean felt ready to explode, shake apart at the seams and Sam was Goddamn tease.

“Damnit, Sam. C’mon –“

Sam kissed him silent, pinching at one of Dean’s nipples and grinding his hips into Dean’s leaving him breathless and aching when they finally parted. Sam tugged the shirt up over his head and Dean was too kiss drunk to do anything but kneel there shaking like some virgin with precome spreading wet across his jeans. The material barely cleared his face before Sam was on him again; surging forward until their bare chests knocked together, his fingers gripping at Dean’s ribs to pull him even closer as he crushed their mouths together. The kiss was brutal and hungry, all teeth and spit and tongue and if it was possible to die from a kiss then this would be the one to kill. Dean surrendered, opening his mouth and tilting his head back and letting Sam drive. He wanted to hold on, touch and pull and dig his fingers in but his arms were caught in his shirt, material binding them uselessly up above his head and he could only lean into Sam for support as Sam devoured him.

He could feel the hard line of his brother’s erection hot against his hip and Dean rocked forward, bumping their hard-ons together and making Sam hiss into the kiss.

Sam drew back slightly, lips swollen and wet, panting for breath as he stared at Dean with lust blown eyes. A long moment stretched out with just Sam watching, and Dean felt himself flush under his brother’s gaze. Jesus, what Sam did to him. He’d never felt this out of control before, never this hard and needy and he wanted Sam so much he could hardly stand it. Apparently Sam could see the desperation in Dean’s face because the corners of his lips twitched up into a slow smile and he tightened his fingers pressing bruises into Dean’s sides.

“Think I like you like this, Dean. All bound up and I can do whatever I want to you. Bet you’d let me, right? Do whatever I wanted.”

Dean bit his bottom lip, flicking his eyes to the side and away from his brother because Jesus, yes. Sam could do whatever and Dean would let him and he’d love every minute of it, but he could never let Sam know that, could never say it out loud. Sam dropped his hands from Dean’s ribs, settling on his hips for a moment as he leaned forward. Nipping sharply at Dean’s jaw until Dean arched forward.

“S’ok, Dean. S’ok to want it, to let me.” Dean hissed as the last word was sucked into his skin and Sam parted slowly to drag his arms down and free him from his shirt. Fucker was teasing again, making Dean crazy and Sam knew it. He watched as Sam reached over to the heavy wood bed posts, grabbing one end of a large silk bow that held the sheer flowery curtains back and tugging. The bow unraveled, slipping off the post whisper quiet and Dean’s eyes widened as he watched Sammy twist the material between his fingers.

“Close your eyes, Dean.” But he couldn’t, his mind racing with all the possible things that his brother could do with that short length of silk. Sam leaned close, Dean watching his every movement as his brother closed the distance between them again. “Close your eyes.” Sam’s voice was heavy and commanding and Dean did as he was told, anticipation making his muscles tense and Sam was trying to kill him. He was going to burn up from the inside out and die right here in this foofy nightmare of a room. He held statue still as Sam wrapped the silk around his eyes, stealing his sight and carefully knotting it tightly in the back with sure quick fingers. Dean wasn’t new to kinky sex but this was Sam and that made it a thousand times better than it had ever been before.

“Jesus, Dean. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

Dean knew, because Sam was doing the same thing to him. Crazy with want and needing so damn badly and shit he was still half dressed but this was already the best sex of his life but this was Sam and damnit he’d never give his brother the satisfaction of telling him all that.

“Yeah, yeah. C’mon, man. You’re a damn tease, Sam.” The tremble in his voice giving it all away anyways and Sam laughed. Little fucker actually laughed and Dean was about to reach up and rip the blindfold away and show Sam just who was actually in control when he felt Sam’s fingers on the button of his jeans.

“Don’t move.” Sam’s voice still held traces of his amusement and Dean growled low in his throat. Quick flick of his wrists and the button was opened and the zipper slid down and before Dean could process it all Sam’s hand was pushing inside and under his boxers.

“Fuck!” Dean hissed when those long fingers wrapped around his aching cock, thumb teasing slowly over his head smearing hot and wet. One slow tight stroke from base to tip and Dean snapped his hips forward, wanting more, needing some sort of relief to the burning ache. Instead Sam just pulled his hand back out of Dean’s pants and yanked the denim and cotton roughly down his hips. Sam swept the rest of the pillows off the bed, clearing them room for him to lay Dean back against the mattress, Dean let himself be manhandled, helping just enough to get the rest of his clothes off quickly. The cool air of the room kissed over his flushed cock making him shiver and he could feel Sam watching him, could feel his brother’s eyes traveling over his body like a soft touch and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from begging. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t beg.

Dean remained quiet, didn’t move a muscle as he listened to Sam stripping down; he wanted to see his brother, wanted to see his cock thick and leaking just for him and damn Sam and his kinks because this was agonizing on so many different levels. The bed tilted slightly, shifting as Sam came up to kneel next to his head. He could smell Sam’s arousal, thick and hot in the air, so close that it made his mouth water and he wanted to taste. Wanted to take Sam deep into his throat and swallow him down. He felt Sam’s fingers against his chin, tilting his head back and caressing softly along the stubble there.

“Open up, baby.”

Dean paused for only a second before he did as he was told, opening his mouth and waiting. He could hear Sam’s ragged breathing; he was just as turned on as Dean was, just as far gone. Anything. Anything for Sammy.

The hand on his face disappeared and he felt the heat of Sam’s cock against his lips. Dean impatiently stuck out his tongue; he had to know what his little brother tasted like. Sam pressed the head of his cock to the tip of Dean’s tongue, precome dribbling down hot and wet and bitter good across his taste buds.

“Yeah, just like that.”

Dean tried to press up further, sticking the tip of his tongue into the slit to coax more of the gooey mess to coat his tongue. Sam’s fingers wrapped around the back of his head, fingers rough and holding him and Dean greedily swallowed his brother’s taste before relaxing his jaw. Sam didn’t waste any time, he pushed Dean’s head onto his cock as he sank deep into Dean’s mouth. Dean’s hands flew up, wrapping his hands around Sam’s waist as he tried to control the situation. Sam so deep in his throat making him gag as he held Dean’s head tightly steady. Sam groaned loud, hips making a slow circle fucking into the back of Dean’s throat and Jesus Sammy was huge, more than Dean had ever had in his mouth before. He could feel his eyes watering behind the blindfold and he couldn’t breathe and it was perfect.

“Your fucking mouth, Dean. Jesus.” Sam’s voice was wrecked, shaking somewhere above him and he couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the thick heavy length of his brother against is tongue. Sam finally pulled back, sliding slowly out of Dean’s throat to smear precome and spit over Dean’s swollen lips.

“Beautiful.” It was breathless and usually Dean would be pissed if someone called him something like that, but coming from Sammy it only made him ache for more. Sam released the back of his head and he chased his brother’s cock with his tongue as Sam started to pull away. Sam laughed softly and pried Dean’s fingers off his hips. “No touching, Dean. Do I gotta tie you up again, man? Don’t touch unless I say so.”

“Toppy bitch.” Dean muttered and he couldn’t help himself for reaching out and trying to grab a hold of Sam again. He wanted that cock back in his mouth, wanted to feel Sam lose control and fuck his throat. Sam growled, knocking Dean’s hands away roughly and shifted away out of Dean’s reach. A brief flare of panic coursed through Dean, Sam was moving away and he hoped to hell he hadn’t fucked this up because if he didn’t get to come soon he was going to die. “Sammy—“

“Shhh.” Sam almost cooed, dragging his hand down Dean’s side and he shivered at the touch. “Want you to follow the rules, Dean.” Dean’s ears strained as he heard Sam slid off the bed, a slight rustling of fabric followed by the metal bite of a zipper. Sounded like Sam was going through one of the duffels and Dean shivered in anticipation with whatever his brother had planned. Sam returned a moment later, the bed shifting as he crawled back over to where Dean laid waiting. “Gonna love this, big brother. Gonna make you beg.”

“God, Sam.” Dean’s breath hitched when he felt Sam take a hold of his wrists roughly, pulling them together in one hand and Dean stilled completely. Sam was going to tie him up. He felt the drag of silk across his forearms, cool and soft against his fevered skin. He wasn’t sure what it was, something probably girly pink but it didn’t matter. He tugged against Sam’s grasp, just testing not really wanting to get free and Sam tightened his fingers grinding the bones of his wrists together painfully. Dean hissed, his cock twitching and leaking sticky against his belly.

Sam twisted the silk around his wrists, tugging hard to secure it before winding the material up Dean’s arms. He was shaking, breathing hard and he wanted this, wanted this so bad. The material bound his arms together, winding up his forearms and over his elbows, biting into the skin as Sam tugged harder to get Dean’s arms flush together in front of him.

“Relax its ok.” It was, Dean knew it but he couldn’t help it. He shook his head and tried to pull away which only made Sam yank harder at the silk before twisting it and tying it off just above Dean’s elbows. His arms were held awkwardly in front of him, fingers clutching at nothing but air.

“Gonna fuck you.” The words fried through him like electricity, searing and all he could do was swallow hard and nod. Sam grabbed him tight around his biceps and hauled him up into a brutal kiss, mashing their lips together for a moment before flipping Dean over onto his hands and knees. Jesus, no one had ever been able to do this before, manhandle Dean like he wasn’t a full grown man and it was slightly embarrassing how hot and desperate it made him.

He rest there on his hands and knees, arms uncomfortable in the bindings and waited. Sam was taking his own sweet time and it was killing him. Dean let his head fall forward, hanging low as he listened. Sam was doing something, something he couldn’t make out over his thundering heartbeat and ragged breathing but he trusted Sam, knew that whatever it was it was going to be so damn good.

“Seeing you like this, God so amazing, Dean. Wish I had a camera; wanna see you like this all the time.” Dean almost laughed at that, wondered for a second if Sam would stick the damn picture in the front of Dad’s journal too. Maybe he’d have to invest in a Polaroid. The hand between his shoulders pulled him back to the moment, Sam kneeling behind him now and he softly stroked the length of Dean’s spine until Dean was shivering underneath his touch.

“That’s it, spread your legs for me.” Dean held his breath, sliding his knees farther apart on the feather comforter, revealing himself to his brother. Sam’s breathing deepened, fingers stilling for a moment and Dean could feel eyes on him, knew exactly where Sam was staring. He could feel the flush heat over his skin, burning his cheeks and ears and he’d never been shy before but this was different. So completely different than any other time and he both hated and loved how vulnerable he felt.

Sam hummed softly, hand soothing circles on the small of Dean’s back like he knew, before sliding lower over the swell of his ass. Dean bit his bottom lip, arching his back and angling himself up for the touch. God, he was already begging for it with his body, Sam drove him insane.

Sam’s fingers slid between the cheeks of his ass, lightly touching lower before pressing the tip of his finger against Dean’s opening. Gasping Dean’s hips hitched forward and Sam’s other hand clamped tight on his waist holding him steady.

“I gotcha. It’s ok.”

It wasn’t. It wasn’t ok. He was so hard it hurt, leaking steadily onto rose print bedding and it wasn’t ok. He was going to die if Sam didn’t get on with it. The finger at his hole circled lightly, slick with Dean’s sweat and dragging sweetly against sensitive skin. Before Dean could do more than moan the finger was withdrawn and there was a loud snap of plastic. The lube from Dean’s bag, so that’s what Sammy was digging around for.

“Sam – Sammy.” Dean’s voice stuttered out of him when he felt his brother’s fingers on him again, lube slick and sliding along the crease of his ass. Dean spread his legs even more, arching his back and pushing back against his brother’s hand. Sam took the hint, wasting no more time teasing as he pressed one slick finger inside. Dean choked on a curse as Sam pushed farther inside, giving him little time to adjust before sliding another in alongside. Dean was shaking, sweat springing up over his skin as he chewed his lip bloody. Sam’s fingers were long, stretching and dragging over Dean’s prostate with every shallow thrust. He couldn’t even think, mindless with the pleasure making him whimper and rock back and forth on his brother’s hand.

“You like it?” Sam asked, the fingers on Dean’s hips tightening but not restraining. Dean shook his head, squeezing his eyes tighter closed behind the blindfold.

“Y – Yes” He finally whispered, word breaking as Sam twisted his fingers deep inside.

“What do you like?” Sam asked angling his touch to press firmly against Dean’s prostate as Dean shook and moaned. God, Sam was going to make him say it. He couldn’t say it. Dean turned his face into his shoulder, fingers clutching at the comforter under him. Sam drew his fingers out, circling his stretched hole for a moment before fucking them roughly back inside. Dean gasp, scrambling forward and Sam pulled him back roughly and Dean knew he’d have bruises in the morning. Yes, god yes.

“—Your fingers” Dean gasped out, rocking his hips trying to get Sam deeper at the same time as trying to get away.

“Where do you need them?” Fucker. Fucker was toying with him. Dean was burning up, shaking apart and he could almost come, could almost come without any touch to his straining cock at all. Sam’s fingers loosened on his waist, thumb smoothing his sweat damp skin.

“In –“ Dean almost choked as Sam pushed a third finger inside, scissoring and twisting and oh God. “In my ass. Please, deeper.”

It was exactly what Sam wanted. Dean begging. With a low growl Sam withdrew his fingers making Dean groan at the lose. Sam wrapped an arm around Dean’s chest, pulling him back and flush against Sam’s chest. Nothing for Dean to hold on to, his arms bound and fingers clenching and he couldn’t do anything but let Sam have his way. Holding Dean tightly against him, Sam hooked one of Dean’s legs and pulled it roughly up, opening Dean up wide.

“Yeah, fuck, Dean. Gonna fuck you so hard.” Sam sunk his teeth into Dean’s shoulder making Dean buck back against him and groan loudly. He wanted it, wanted it so bad every part of him ached for it. Sam let go of his leg and Dean kept it hitched up to his side as he felt Sam’s sticky cock head drag against his stretched hole. Dean bit back a strangled whimper as he felt Sam breach him, his body stretching to take Sam’s cock as his brother forced more and more inside. Dean shook his head, he couldn’t take anymore. Sam was huge, it felt like he was tearing him apart and Jesus it was the best thing he had ever felt.

“Please. Please” Dean whined, body straining as Sam began to fuck him. Tight sharp thrusts that sent jolts of pleasure spiking through the pain.

“Can’t see you.” Dean gasped as Sam’s fingers slid over his chest to pinch at one of his sensitive nipples, twisting and pulling until Dean was keening.

“Can’t touch you.” Dean threw his head back against Sammy’s shoulder, gasping open mouthed as Sam snapped his hips forward harder, driving Dean up with ever thrust. So deep, so damn deep inside him that Dean wasn’t sure where Sam stopped and he began.

“Please. Please. Please” Dean couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t stop begging for Sam to fuck him harder, deeper, more more more. Sam’s hand wrapped around Dean’s cock, jacking slow in complete opposite of his frantic thrusts. Filth spilled from Sam’s lips, words against Dean’s ear and Dean didn’t think he could hold on. He was going to come.

Sam pulled out suddenly, hands rough and nails gouging as he flipped Dean around and slammed him back on the bed. Dean grunted at the movements, surprised and frustrated. He was so damn close, so close to the edge that it hurt. Sam draped himself over Dean, pushing his way in-between Dean’s legs and burying himself back inside with one long brutal thrust.

“Take it, Dean.” Sam growled, wrapping his arms around Dean and pulling him up for a better angle.

“C—can’t” Dean hardly recognized his voice, broken on a sob, tears wetting the blindfold. It was too much. Sam was killing him; it felt so agonizingly good that Dean never wanted it to stop. Sam’s hand grabbed at his ass, wrapping his fingers around straining muscles as he impaled Dean down onto his cock, Dean cried out as Sam fucked him harder and deeper. “Please”

“Let me fill you with me.” Sam growled, leaning forward and latching his lips onto Dean’s throat. Sucking blossoms into Dean’s skin, making Dean writhe and buck up sliding his tortured dick along the hard planes of Sam’s stomach. “Baby, open up. More –“

“Can’t. A—anymore. P—please, plea…” Dean couldn’t finish, his orgasm crashed through him in a brutal wave of intense pleasure. Every muscle seizing up, shaking apart as Sam fucked into him.

“Show me everything.” Sam whispered, wrapping his hand around Dean’s dick and jerking hard.

“Sammy!” Dean cried out as he shattered, come painting thick and sticky over their chests and stomachs. Sam groaned, pulling back slightly as his rhythm stuttered, Dean felt Sam swell inside then the hot splash of his brother’s come as Sam emptied deep in his body. They clung together through their orgasms, shaking and sticking together until they both could breathe again. Gently Sam lowered Dean back to the bed, easing off him slowly and sliding out of Dean’s abused body. Dean whimpered, too sensitive and exhausted for the movement.

Sam moved along side Dean, fingers gentle as they soothed over his flushed skin making soft noises and whispered praises. He untied the blindfold and reached for the material binding Dean’s arms. Dean blinked back tears, the light too bright after spending so much time blind. Sam paused halfway to freeing him, looking at Dean with a mixture of love and worry.

“You okay?” He asked, as if Dean were fragile and broken. Dean sniffled, ducking his head and wiping a tear wet cheek on his shoulder.

“’m fine” He finally answered once he found his voice again. He was still trembling from his orgasm, still weak and he ached. Damnit, Sam was huge. He’d be feeling his brother for a week.

Sam was quiet for a few seconds and then he nodded, finally pulling the last of the silk off Dean’s arms and freeing him.

“Are you pissed at me?” He finally asked and Dean could only blink.

“No” Of course he wasn’t pissed at Sam. He shook his head, bringing his hands up to his face and scrubbing away the last of the tear tracks.

“Dean –“ Dean didn’t let Sam continue, he leaned forward and wrapped his hands around the back of Sam’s head, pulling him close until their foreheads touched.

“Shut up, Sammy” Dean whispered, ducking his head and holding on tight. He could feel the smile on Sam’s lips as his brother pressed a soft kiss to his sweat damp temple. Dean’s vision swam, tears making the world shimmer and he closed his eyes. This wasn’t a chick flick moment. It wasn’t. It… “Love you.” Barely spoken, just a soft breath as Dean leaned into his brother.

“Love you, too.”

He is (NC17 John/Dean)

2009-01-13T20:21:08Z

Title: He is
Rating: NC17
Pairing: John/Dean
Warnings: dirtybadwrong, daddycest, underage, dub-con, unbeta'd
Word Count: 534
Disclaimer: My stories may be disturbing to some readers. Please read my journal disclaimer and all warnings. As always I own nothing :( it makes me sad. Everything belongs to The Kripke, lucky bastard.

Notes: Just dirtybad PWP. Feedback makes me happy :) The rest of my fics can be found here and at my fic comm eroticdiscord

His lips were as soft as Mary’s, full and moist and John licked slowly at the corners until Dean parted for him. Too sweet from Dr. Pepper and minty from stolen gum and he tried to ignore the tremors that shook his oldest as he pulled Dean closer against his chest.

“It’s ok.” He whispered. “Close your eyes.” John caressed his thumbs across Dean’s cheek bones, the brief flutter of eyelashes against the pads of his fingers when Dean did as he was told. “So beautiful.”

John kissed him again, tongue delving deep into his son's mouth licking and tasting until he was breathless. His head swam and every word of disgust and shame that floated through his mind sounded like his dead wife and he pushed them back, locking them with all the other horrors.

This was his.

Dean gasped for breath, bowing his head and bumping his forehead into John’s chin lightly. Dean was shaking, his hands fisted in the sides of John’s shirt too tired to push away anymore, to scared to keep trying. He smiled placing a soft kiss to top of Dean’s head, hands sliding down to run heavy over his son’s ribs before settling on his hips. Dean stiffened under his touch, all the air rushing from his lungs and John laughed softly pressing his lips to Dean's temple.

“Sssh, baby boy. “ John soothed gently, thumbs sliding under his son’s t-shirt to trace circles on Dean’s skin. “Relax. It’s ok.”

Dean buried his face into the side of John’s throat, hot breath panted against his skin making John's heart thunder and his cock ache and he couldn’t wait any longer. He’d waiting too long already. He pushed his hand into the front of Dean’s pants, fingers sliding under denim and cotton to wrap around his son’s limp flesh. Too confused to be hard, too scared to want it.

John stroked slowly, fingers loose and softly teasing as he wrapped his other arm around Dean and held him tight. Dean made a soft whimpering noise as he began to swell, blood warming his skin and pulsing in John’s palm and he tightened his grip and worked his son harder.

“Dad –“ Dean gasped, fingers clutching and twisting in flannel as he tried to push his face deeper into John’s shoulder. John closed his eyes; he could feel the flush of Dean’s skin through their layers of clothing, the quick rise and fall of his son’s chest, the wetness of precome on his fingers and it was almost too much. It would never be enough.

“Jesus, Dean.” John jerked faster, harder until Dean was fucking into his fist with each stroke. “That’s it, come on.” He urged, thumb swiping up slick to soothe the burn of friction. Dean made a soft noise, half sob half groan as his hips hitched forward and John felt the hot leak of come down his fingers as Dean clutched and shook against him.

“Such a good boy.” John softened his grip, slowing as he stroked Dean through his orgasm, ignoring the warm wetness against his shoulder and concentrating on the searing stickiness on his hand. “Love you so much, Dean.”

Nothing Else Matters (NC17 Dean/Sam)

2009-01-13T20:21:07Z

Title: Nothing Else Matters 1/1
Author: ianthe_aveira
Pairings/Characters: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 2100
Spoilers: None, pre-series
Warnings: slash, smut, incest, pwp, underage (Sam is 17), boys rubbing off on each other, language, unbeta'd
Disclaimer: My stories may be disturbing to some readers. Please read my journal disclaimer and all warnings. As always I own nothing :( it makes me sad. Everything belongs to The Kripke, lucky bastard.

Notes: O.o I porned lol One of my bullet-proof kinks is the boys dry humping each other and aelfsiden is my dirty porny enabler! *hugs twin* unbeta'd so ignore mistakes. It's just smut! :D Feedback makes me happy :) The rest of my fics can be found here and at my fic comm eroticdiscord

Sam could hear Hetfield belting out Wherever I May Roam from two houses down and he rolled his eyes. Dean was apparently home early from work. Perfect. Sighing he hitched his backpack higher on his shoulder and bowed his head as he continued slowly up to the rental they’d been staying for the last few months. He had calculus and history homework and if Dean insisted on blaring Metallica he knew he’d get shit done and he really couldn’t afford not to turn in these assignments. He was far enough behind as it was and if he wanted to graduate on time he had to keep up the hard work.

Climbing the warped steps up to the door just as the track ended and Don’t Tread On Me started Sam paused at the door, this close he could almost feel the music and God he hoped Dean wasn’t in there with some chick doing things. He waited for a few more moments before pushing open the door and stepping inside. The music was so loud it was almost unrecognizable and he tossed his backpack down just inside and kicked the door shut behind him. No Dean in the living room and no clothing strewn about. Good sign.

Sam walked into the kitchen, grabbing a Pepsi from the fridge he leaned against the counter and downed half of it before steeling up the nerve to head upstairs. If he could get to his room without being scarred by nakedness he’d be happy. Retrieving his backpack he slipped up the stairs and into his room unnoticed and with his eyesight intact. Sitting the can of soda on his nightstand he flopped onto his bed and pulled out his history book. He had just started to get into the words, ignoring the music the best he could and he only had to read the same block of text twice to catch onto the meaning. He didn’t notice Dean coming into his room; didn’t notice his brother crossing to his bed until Dean grabbed him by his ankles and tried to flip him onto the floor.

“The fuck, Dean!” Sam yelled, fingers clutching the edge of the mattress in a futile attempt to not end up on the floor as he glared over his shoulder at his idiot brother and the idiot smirk on his idiot face. Dean yelled something in return that was lost in a brutal guitar rift and Sam watched angrily as Dean threw his head back and laughed.

“Asshole!” Sam grunted, knowing that Dean couldn’t hear him either so he yanked his foot away from his brother’s grip and placed an aimed kick right into Dean’s stomach. Savage glee as Dean released his other ankle and doubled over, lips in an O of pain and eyes glaring daggers. Sam was prepared for retaliation and Dean did not disappoint as he launched himself onto Sam. It was a short struggle, Dean still had weight over Sam even if Sam had the height advantage, which meant nothing while lying down and Dean easily pinned him down to the mattress. Paper and books scattered by flailing limbs, crumpled up under Sam’s shoulder and if Dean wrecked anything then Sam was going to kill him in his sleep.

Narrowing his eyes, panting for breath he stared up at his brother. Dean was smugly looking down at him and he was saying something and Sam wanted to inform him that he couldn’t hear anything over all the noise and even though he was brilliant Sam wasn’t a lip reader. Instead he rolled his eyes and tried to buck Dean off him but Dean just tightened his grip on Sam’s wrists and ground the bones together painfully until he stopped struggling. Sometimes it was easier just to give in; Dean would get bored and go back to whatever it was Dean did to occupy himself. Blowing a too long hair out of his eyes he watched in horror as Dean began to make exaggerated movements of hocking up spit and Sam narrowed his eyes dangerously in his best “Don’t you fucking dare” glare. Dean’s eyes sparkled evilly as he parted his lips, letting a long line of spit to dangle above Sam’s face.

“Fucker don’t you dare!” And apparently Dean was a lip reader because he slurped it back up with an stupid half-grin and patted Sam’s cheek condescendingly. It was the break Sam needed, he arched and twisted and before Dean could react Sam had their positions switched. Dean was under him and Sam straddled his middle, hands holding Dean’s wrists to the mattress and if Sam drove his knee into Dean’s side mid-flip to keep his brother stunned then who could blame him? After the initial shock Dean just smiled up at him, eyebrow quirked and chest heaving from their rough housing. Sam had no illusions that if his brother really wanted to he could get out from underneath Sam relatively easily but Dean seemed content just to lay there with that shit eating grin and Sam hated him so much right then.

The last cords of The Struggle Within ended and the house fell quiet, too quiet and he could hear Dean’s breathing and his own and suddenly it was sorta weird.

“I hate you so much.” It was all he could think of to say as he stared down at his asshole brother and Dean’s grin grew even wider.

“Aww come on, Sammy you know you love me. I’m awesome.”

“You’re so not awesome.” Sam mumbled but without any fire behind his words, he was far too aware of Dean’s body underneath him and ok he was a teenager with raging hormones but he should so not be thinking of That and his dick should Not be semi-hard. Awkward.

Sam snatched his hands back away from Dean’s wrists quickly, their position suddenly way too close and very very uncomfortable and he went to move off but Dean’s hands suddenly clamped down on his hips and Sam froze. He looked back down at his brother and Dean’s grin slipped into a knowing smirk, fingers digging slightly into Sam’s waist as he pushed Sam down lower until he was straddling Dean’s waist and holy shit Sam could feel the hard outline of Dean’s dick against his ass.

“Dean…” Sam’s voice cracked and he swallowed thickly before continuing. “What the hell, man?” This was weird. Too damn weird. And wrong, god so wrong because this was Dean and well, that was the big thing. This. Was. Dean.

“Are you drunk?” Sam blurted, it was the only logical thing he could come up with but Dean didn’t look drunk he just looked amused and turned on? and Sam shifted uncomfortably. Dean blinked up at him, lips slightly parted on a soft exhale at Sam's movements and Sam couldn’t tear his eyes off of Dean’s mouth.

“Shut up, Sammy.” Dean’s voice was soft, almost a whisper and one hand left Sam’s hip to grip the back of his neck and he pulled Sam down and any protest Sam might have had died when Dean’s lips touched his. It was soft at first, exploring and cautious and Sam’s eyes grew wide in shock. Dean is kissing me. and he was both surprised and worried that it really didn’t bother him as much as it should. Dean’s eyes were open, staring back up into his; brilliant green and huge and when he felt the tip of Dean’s tongue slip along his bottom lip everything else didn’t matter so much at all. He let his eyes flutter closed, opening to Dean’s tongue as he pressed closer for more.

Dean was an awesome kisser, he did things with his lips and tongue that Sam had never even thought of before and it felt like fire in his lips that sizzled all the way down his spine and into his belly making it flip flop and flutter. He felt warm all over, flushed and dizzy and he didn’t care that it was his brother’s tongue down his throat or that it was Dean’s fingers dragging over his lower back and caressing his skin just above the waistband of his boxers. God it just felt so good, nothing else mattered but that feeling.

He wasn’t sure how long they made out; shirts rucked up to their arm pits, boxers moist with pre-cum and sweat inside too tight jeans. Lips and tongue and teeth and heavy petting over hard muscles and warm skin and it felt like hours and Sam had never been harder in his life. His body had a mind of its own, autopilot and it was only after Dean broke their kiss and groaned his name that Sam realized he’d been grinding himself down into Dean. He blinked his eyes open, staring down at his brother. Dean’s eyes were closed, lips puffy and spit slick, freckles standing out on flushed skin and he wanted to taste each one of them, taste every part of Dean’s body and find out where else Dean had freckles. Why hadn’t he ever noticed how really beautiful Dean was before? Not that he'd ever say that to his brother, Sam wasn't stupid and he sorta liked his teeth right where they were.

Dean’s hand drifted down over his denim covered ass, fingers gripping the soft mounds of flesh as he pressed up against Sam and it felt so damn good. His mind went blank, not enough blood to keep up any sort of serious thought. Sam never wanted this to stop. He could feel his brother’s hard-on through his jeans, thick and hot and fuck he couldn’t stop himself, he kept grinding and rubbing and the friction was making him insane. Dean’s lips latched onto his throat sucking and licking at his skin and Sam made some noise that was a cross between girly and embarrassing and he could feel Dean smiling against his pulse.

“That’s it, Sammy. Come on.” Dean’s words were muffled against his neck, more felt than heard and Sam’s fingers scrambled against Dean’s ribs as he felt the slow burn of his orgasm spreading in his belly.

“Dean!” It was a desperate breathless cry and Dean kissed it from his lips as he rocked hard up against Sam, pushing a knee up between Sam’s thighs and pulling Sam against him. It was the most intense orgasm he had ever had; it stole his breath and made his body shake like he was coming apart, it felt like dying. He was trembling and weak when the last wave of pleasure rolled through him, gasping against Dean’s lips and he felt his brother’s hand on his ass tighten. Dean arched under him, chest pressed so tight up against Sam’s. He could feel Dean’s cock twitch against him and he pushed his hips down into his brother’s, rolling his hips hard as Dean groaned and bucked and Sam forced his eyes open and watched in awe at the pleasure-pain look that spread across his brother’s face as Dean came.

Sam smiled lazily and pressed a wet sloppy kiss to the corner of Dean’s lips before tucking his head up under Dean’s chin. He could feel the spasms still twitching through his brother’s body, the sound of shuddering heavy breathes loud against the top of his head and the marathon beat of Dean’s heart through his rib cage and he closed his eyes, drifting on it all drowsy and fuzzy and warm.

He might have dozed, Dean’s hand in his hair idly stroking the sweat damp strands and then the next minute Dean was pushing him off to the side and stretching loudly. Sam lay on his side, head propped on one hand as he watched the long line of Dean’s body as he moved. Maybe Dean would want to go again because Sam was definitely ready and more than willing. He watched as Dean rolled off the bed, plucking a stray piece of notebook paper from his sweat slick back.

“Shower.” Dean yawned and pulled at the front of his sticky jeans in disgust. Sam tried to hide his disappointment by gathering the crumpled papers and shoving them back into his binder. Dean stopped at the doorway and looked back at Sam. “Hey, you coming? Shower Sammy, unless you like being covered in come.” Sam’s head snapped up and he gaped at his brother. Dean wiggled his eyebrows and smirked, turning and heading down the hallway towards the bathroom. He could hear Dean’s low off-key singing of Nothing Else Matters as he started the water, Sam laughed and scrambled to his feet pulling his t-shirt off over his head.

Snakes of November (2/2 NC17 Dean/Sam, Dean/Sam/OFC, John/Dean)

2009-01-13T20:21:05Z

Title: Snakes Of November 2/2
Author: ianthe_aveira Siset
Pairings/Characters: Dean/Sam, Dean/Sam/OFC, John/Dean
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 1721
Spoilers: Nope
Warnings: AU, dark, insanity, wincest, dubious con (sorta), necrophilia, violence, language, underage, unbeta'd
Disclaimer: My stories may be disturbing to some readers. Please read my journal disclaimer and all warnings. As always I own nothing :( it makes me sad. Everything belongs to The Kripke, lucky bastard.

Notes: Part of my Snakes Of November!Verse. Feedback makes me happy :) The rest of my fics can be found here and at my fic comm eroticdiscord

“Sam we can’t.”

“Come on, Dean. She’s still warm.”

***

Dean closed his eyes. The smell of blood and come thick in the room; he could feel it on his skin, taste it bitter in his mouth. He wanted to drift to sleep, spent and sated and wearing his brother’s scent.

The bed shifted slightly drawing his attention and he opened his eyes. Sam lay sweaty and marked, curled up against what was left of Marion Finch. Dean's lips twitched up in a smile as he watched his brother; a leg draped lazy over her thighs, thin fingers drawing idle circles on the smooth pale skin of her belly as he placed small chaste kisses over the swell of her ruined breasts. Dozens of deep teeth marks marred the skin, bloody and gaping across her chest and throat.

This was fine. Everything was ok. Sam was happy and that made Dean happy and that was all that mattered.

Sam pulled away slowly; lips puffy and slick with blood and when he grinned his teeth were crimson. Dean wanted to lean forward and lick them clean but that’d mean moving and he barely had the energy to keep his eyes open at the moment.

“She’s cold.” Sam mumbled with a slight pout sounding all of six years old as his fingers slid lower over the dead woman’s stomach to drag his blunt nails through the soft curls of her pubic hair.

“Then stop playing with it and c’mere, Sammy. I’m nice ‘n warm.” Dean reached out and lay his hand over Sam’s, stilling it in it’s travels downward. Sam’s fingers opened and threaded with Dean’s, holding tight as he pulled their hands between Marion’s legs. She was still wet with Dean’s come, it leaked from her and wet her thighs. He wanted to pull his hand back, she was cold and it was different now.

Dean watched their entwined hands moving between Marion’s legs for a moment before taking his hand back. Sam frowned with a shrug and pushed two fingers up inside Marion’s cold cunt as Dean wiped his hand on the soiled sheet under him in disgust. That made Sam laugh, high and open as he sat up and pulled his fingers free with a soft wet sound.

“You’re always so squeamish afterwards, Dean.” Sam teased, scissoring his fingers and watching as the cooled stickiness ribboned between them. “She was beautiful, so soft and warm.” Sam sighed, lowering his hand and gathered more of Dean’s release from between Marion’s legs. Dean wanted to tell him to shut up, wanted to kiss him to stop the words. “Do you think Mom was so soft and warm, Dean?”

Dean narrowed his eyes, reaching out to grab Sam by the back of his hair and yanking until Sam yelped in pain and rolled off Marion and onto Dean.

“Don’t talk about her like that, Sam. Never like that.” Sam looked as if he might cry and Dean felt his anger cool at the sight and regret flooded him. He loosened his fingers and carded them lovingly through Sam’s sweaty hair in apology.

It wasn't Sammy's fault. It wasn't.

Sam stared at him for a long time, wounded and pouting before finally shrugging and with a smile he slid up to nip at Dean’s throat.

“M’ sorry, Dean.” Warm lips brushed the words against Dean’s jaw making him shiver and he hummed softly as he slid his hands over Sam’s ass, fingers splayed teasing against hot skin. Sam pushed back against his touch and Dean shifted until he felt the hard wet heat of his brother’s dick against his hip. Everything was ok now; he could never stay angry with Sammy.

Their mouths found each other, sharing breath for a moment and Sam smelt like blood and semen. Dean’s cock twitched against Sam’s stomach, renewed interest at the smell and feel of his brother rutting against him. This was much better.

“Dean-“ Sam moaned against his lips; the tiny tip of his tongue flicking out and sliding between and Dean opened to his little brother’s probing. Sam licked into his mouth, sucking and drawing Dean’s tongue to his, the taste was salt and copper and he devoured Sam’s mouth so hungry for it.

Sam wiggled on top of him, hips grinding and stuttering as he worked his hand in between their bodies. The come on Sam’s fingers was tacky, not quite slick anymore and Dean groaned into Sam's mouth as he felt the tips of his brother's fingers circling and teasing at his hole.

“Wanna fuck you, Dean.” The words bitten into his swollen bottom lip, splitting flesh and spilling blood.

“Please, want inside.” Not waiting for an answer, sweet stretching burn as Sam forced two long slender digits past Dean’s tightness. It hurt and Dean closed his eyes, arching his back and gasping; so different from his Father’s thick fingers but the burn was the same. This was the first time Sam had ever touched him like this, the first time he ever wanted to claim Dean in this way and Dean wasn’t sure if it was his to give, it had always been Dad’s.

John painfully made that clear.

Another finger added, twisting roughly inside and any hesitation Dean had was melted by that searing pleasure.

“Mine” Sam groaned, pushing deeper just missing Dean’s prostate and making Dean buck and angle his hips in frustration. “Mine now, never want him to touch you again, Dean.” Teeth breaking the skin over his collar bone, pain entwined with pleasure and it sizzled through his body in sharp static waves.

“Yours Sammy.” He’d always been Sam’s. Only Sam’s. “Fuck me.” Dean begged, fingers clutching at the smooth swells of Sam’s ass and pulling him down harder. Sam was keening, making such sweet noises and he practically ripped his fingers from Dean’s body. A few moments of sweaty skin sliding together as Sam settled between Dean’s thighs, movement that shot fire through Dean’s body and he finally felt the tip of Sam’s cock hot and wet against his stretched opening.

“Look at me.” It sounded so like dad, command and obey and Dean’s eyes shot open to stare up at his brother. Hazel blown wide, heated and glassy with lust and it took Dean’s breath away. Sam did this to him, made him shake and want more than he’d ever wanted before. “We should kill him, Dean.”

Sam’s hips snapped forward, filling Dean brutally in one thrust and chasing the words away until they had never been.

***

Dean wanted to shower, wash it all off him. Blood and fluids and the sick feeling that made his skin crawl. He sat at the edge of the bed, head bowed and shoulders hunched. His head hurt, everything hurt and Sam was giggling behind him lost in whatever fantasy he created around him and Marion.

Dean tasted bile when Sam called her Mommy.

***

He felt John’s eyes burn into him as he carried Marion’s body down the stairs, anger and disgust rolling off his father and Dean could feel it thicken with every step. There was the promise of punishment in his Father’s glare; no way to hide what they’d been doing, no lies that dad would believe. John always knew when they broke the rules, sometimes even before Dean knew himself.

”You don’t fuck the dead, Dean. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

Sam was happy behind him; fresh from their shower and softly humming and it felt so wrong and so right and he thought he might be sick again. John caught Sam by the scruff of his neck as he bound off the last step, dark eyes never leaving Dean as John shook the boy roughly until Sammy started to cry.

Dean swallowed thick, dropping Marion into the pile of bodies in the center of the living room and Sam’s words from earlier fluttered through his mind like whispers and ice.

“Finish this up and meet me outside, Dean.” John’s voice pulled him back from thoughts of blades and his Father’s blood on his hands and Dean nodded as he watched John drag Sam out of the house and into the charcoal dawn.

Dean stood there for long moments starring at the pile of bodies. He hated them. He hated every one of them for what they did to his family, what the demons had turned the Winchesters into. Swallowing his rage he grabbed the gas can and doused the bodies.

***

The flames danced high, licking the evil clean and releasing it as thick black smoke against the brightening sky. The heat was a wall, pulsing against his front as he stood in the driveway watching the pyre but it couldn’t chase away the chill inside him, the cold that made him shiver and ache. Dad stood behind him, chest pressed to his back solid and hotter than the fire. Rough fingers under his shirt, down his pants and Dean could feel Sam watching them from the backseat of the Impala.

“In ‘Nam I watched children burn, Dean. Watched them dance in the fire and their color was so different than anything since.” Dean swallowed hard, John’s words vibrating against his ear and he could only nod at his Dad’s words. “Sometimes I wonder what color you and Sam would have made if the Demon had had his way.”

It was nothing Dean hadn’t heard a thousand times before.

They stood that way; his Dad’s hand working him raw to semi-hardness as they watched windows explode and beams collapse. Words had stopped meaning anything and when John turned him and forced him to his knees Dean went obediently.

***

Sam snuggled up against him in the backseat, nose nuzzling the side of his neck and small fingers digging into the bruises on his hips. Dean closed his eyes, smelling smoke and death and wrapped his arms around his brother to hold him tight.

“There’s a coven in Rockford.” Sam began, whispers so soft that it was almost lost. “They make candles from the fat of babies and summon demons to barter the souls.” Dean winced and smoothed his brother’s hair softly as he shivered. Sam’s visions were coming more and more often and it worried Dean.

“S’ok, Sammy. Go to sleep.” He kissed his brother’s forehead softly and met John’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. “Illinois.” He mouthed and John nodded. The Impala growled to life, Grace Slick wanted Somebody to Love and they chased the morning sun out of Nebraska.

Outside
The circus gathers
Moved silently along the rain swept boulevard.
The precession moved on, the shouting is over.
The fabulous freaks are leaving town.

-Dead Can Dance, The Carnival is Over.

Part 1

Drabble (Dean, Girl!Sam PG)

2009-01-13T20:21:05Z

Title: Untitled
Rating: PG
Pairings: None (Dean, Girl!Sam)
Warnings: None
Word Count: 305
Summary: Sam has always been a girl. Thirteen year old girls are an enigma to Dean.
Notes: Not mine.. all belongs to The Kripke! Just something sitting on my HD for months now lol Sammy's becoming a woman and Dean is freaked out.

“Sammy, you ok?” Dean knocked softly at the bathroom door, she had been in there for the last hour and he hadn’t heard the shower running so he guessed for once she wasn’t using up all the hot water.

“Go away, Dean.”

He sighed softly and leaned his forehead against the faux wood door and closed his eyes, he could hear her sobbing softly, her tears making his stomach clench and he wished she’d let him in. Sam had gotten up from the booth at the diner next door to use the restroom then rushed back, pale and insisting they leave. Dean had been pissed, at least the waitress had given him a Styrofoam container for the rest of his burger and fries. They went back to their hotel room and well now she had locked herself in the bathroom and he wasn’t stupid, it was pretty obvious… you know, woman thing.

“Ok, but…”

“Just leave me alone for once! Just go away!”

Dean frowned and pushed himself back away from the door. Fine. He snorted angrily and stalked back into the main room. He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know what to do. Thirteen year old girls were an enigma to him, especially when it came to… you know, woman things.

“Fuck.” He cursed and grabbed his keys from the table. Leave it to Dad to be conveniently on a hunt when this shit happens.

“Back soon.” He called out, grabbing his leather jacket from the back of the chair and leaving the hotel. What the hell was he going to do? He hoped to God that the person behind the counter at the 7-11 would be a woman and old and didn’t look at him weird, because he didn’t think he could handle buying tampons if it were a dude.

Her Whore (244 words. Dean/Jo NC17 Comment Porn)

2009-01-13T20:21:04Z

Title: Her Whore
Author: ianthe_aveira Siset
Pairings: Dean/Jo
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 244
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Pegging! Wheeee! and Het
Disclaimer: I own nothing. :( The Kripke owns all.
Notes: This was written as comment porn for realpestilence and I just happened to find it laying around in a folder and I realized I had never posted it to my journal.. so now I am :) *snortles* and I hardly ever write het so.. *facepalms* yeah.

Kissing softly she trailed her lips down his spine, smiling against his over-heated skin when he groaned and jerked against the binds that held his wrists securely above his head. She nibbled slowly over his hips, her fingers lightly petting the small of his back to calm him.

"You're going to love this, baby." She purred against him as she pressed a kiss to the base of his neck, he groaned when she crushed her breasts against his back, arching into her for more contact. She laughed softly and pulled back, settling back behind his spread thighs as she reached for the lube.

She loved the way he looked, helpless and open, needing her. She was going to fuck him until he begged. Squeezing a palm full of the slick liquid into her hand she reached down and smeared it over the black plastic dildo strapped to her hips. She stroked her faux cock slowly as if it were the real thing as she watched him trembling in front of her. He was strung with anticipation, such a greedy whore for her.

Grinning she leaned forward, wrapping her slick hand over his hip as she leaned forward brushing the head against his tight unprepared hole. He gasped and moaned and probably would have said something snarky if not for the gag in his mouth. Too bad, after she had his ass she would have loved to have taught Dean's mouth a lesson in manners.

The End Of Purity (9/? NC17 Dean/Sam, John, Missouri, Jim, OFC)

2009-01-13T20:21:03Z

Title: The End Of Purity (9/?)
Author: ianthe_aveira Siset
Pairings/Characters: Dean/Sam, John, Missouri, Jim, OFC
Rating: NC17 overall
Word Count: 4,124 / 25,742
Spoilers: No, this is AU
Warnings: angst, blasphemy, slash, wincest, underage, violence, language, unbeta'd
Disclaimer: My stories may be disturbing to some readers. Please read my journal disclaimer and all warnings. As always I own nothing :( it makes me sad. Everything belongs to Kripke, lucky bastard.

Notes: Feedback makes me happy :) The rest of my fics can be found here and at my fic comm eroticdiscord

She had tea with Missouri like she said, they sat in comfortable silence smiling at their tea-cups and sharing space. She had always had so much respect for the older woman and after time away it was a nice visit. Morgana tried to keep her mind away from what was happening in the small room downstairs. The two boys who were relying on her, a father desperate and she was afraid she’d let them down.

She finished her tea and hugged her old friend and left the church. She had to be away, the time had come for her to get everything ready. Morgana had sent out a prayer, a plea to the Gods to guide her and give their help with Sam but everything had been quiet. The Old Ones could be stubborn, wanting sacrifice and worship but they were usually willing to help when she asked but there was nothing. She had never felt this way before, alone and unsure. Perhaps there really wasn’t anything she could do.

Walking slowly down the single lane away from the church, the daylight dying on the horizon and she could feel the stored heat of the day in warm waves off the asphalt. She let herself drift.

She found it hard to believe that they’d all just turn away. There were always deals to be made she just had to find the right God or Goddess to make them with.

***

It had taken almost a day to find the right items and to make her deals and now they all stood breathless in the small room. Neither boy had moved; Sam on his back, eyes open and black. Dean sitting unwavering by his side, eyes open and locked on his brother’s. She couldn’t tell if Sam returned the stare.

Morgana looked around the room; John stood drawn and tense, his worry and fear evident in his every movement. The Priest’s lips moved silently as the rosary clicked through his fingers, she knew he wasn’t happy with her being her or the things she had planned. That was alright, she didn’t need him to believe. Missouri finished setting out the seven small silver bowls that Morgana had asked for, each one was filled with a different substance. She smiled thanks to her old friend and looked over the make-shift alter. Everything she had asked for.

Taking a deep breath Morgana reached for the bundle of sage. She lit the end of the braid with a wooden match, letting it flare for a moment before blowing the flame out. The sweet smell of sage filled the room, purifying and chasing away harmful energy. She cleansed the room swiftly, drawing smoke over each person before smudging the doorway.

“There are Seven Sisters, the lights around the moon.” She started as she lay the sage down on the alter, letting it smoulder in the ritual bowl. “They bring protection and healing.” She picked up the blue and white bundles of sage and nutmeg, held them in her hands as she turned back to the boys. “I can’t banish the dead inside Sam. They have claimed their pieces of him and they would have taken him apart. What’s done is done. They are part of him now, imprisoned by what they revealed.”

“What does that mean?”

Morgana turned and looked at John; it hurt her to see him in so much pain. She knew his story without ever hearing it and she knew how much these two boys meant to him. She’d try for him. She’d do all she could. She couldn’t lie.

“The Demon of course.”

“No, he’s not possessed. We exorcised..”

Morgana held up a hand, her smile sad and shook her head.

“No, he’s not possessed, John. This Demon is Sam.” She had to look away at the look that crossed his face, the horror and pain, the sadness and denial. “The dead that Dean and Sam released entered Sam, they wanted to drag him back with them and use his body for their own purposes. Life is so tempting, something they still want so badly. What they didn’t expect was what was buried deep inside Sam. I don’t know why it is, or where it came from but it has laid dormant for so long. Sam has power over it, he can keep it buried and locked away. When the dead took Sam they released it and brought it forward. It doesn’t have the power that it should, for whatever reason the time is not right.” She could feel their eyes on her, burning into her as she spoke. How can you tell a hunter, a father, that his son held a demonic power and always had?

“I don’t understand.” John finally spoke and it broke her heart to hear the cracks in his voice.

“I don’t either, John. Only what I’ve just told you now. I’ve never come across anything like this before.” She couldn’t tell if he believed her, she was trying to tell him the truth but what she seen, what she knew was so much more than what she had words to describe. Some secrets had to remain secrets until the time came. She couldn’t change these things. No one could. She’d try later, after all this was done to explain it better to John but right now there was no more time; those that said they’d help wouldn’t wait long. Afterwards she’d do all she could to help them mend, help them understand.

“Wait, what do you mean the Demon is Sam?”

“After, John. There is time for all things after.” She could tell he wanted to say more and she wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t but there was only silence and she took a deep breath to steady herself.

“These sisters are of the sacred feminine and they usually only give their blessings to women.” She took the bundles over to the bed, careful not to touch Dean she reached across and with fingers lightly on Sam’s chin opened his mouth. She slid the white bundle of sage between his teeth and tenderly closed his mouth around it. The boy didn’t stir.

She placed the remaining bundles on his body; one on the center of his chest; just above Dean’s splayed fingers, one on his stomach, one on the open upturned palm of each hand and one at his feet. She prayed softly as she did, asking the Goddesses for their help.

It was this next part that she was worried about. How far would John let her go to save Sam? She had already sprung the Demon information on him. She looked up at John, he was watching her intently, his eyes a dark brown of sadness and worry and she took a deep breath. Taking a few steps to her bag she withdrew an intricately carved rosewood box. The carvings were spiritual symbols that helped keep the magic of the item inside charged.

“There are symbols” She began, talking softly and calmly as she walked back over to the bed. “Of each God and Goddess, each Demon and Devil. They have marks they leave to empower or claim, curse or bless. The Seven Sisters are no different.” She placed the box on the alter and reverently opened it.

“The Sisters were the ones who came when I called; it’s unusually for them to want to help a male, since they are very feminine powers. I asked them why they were offering, grateful that they were but curious as to what their motivation. Not even the Gods work for free.”

Morgana chuckled softly, reaching into the box to withdraw a long hollow silver needle. She held it in her hands for a moment, the light tingle of power making her finger tips buzz.

“It’s not for me to say what they want from Sam; a time will come when he will be obligated to pay his debt.”

“Wait.” John spoke up, taking a step forward and Morgana turned to look at him. “I can’t just agree to whatever they want. Somewhere down the line, what? They come to Sam and demand his obedience and if he doesn’t?” He looked angry and Morgana smiled softly, she wanted him calm…well as calm as possible and she couldn’t tell him what the Goddesses told her.

“John, when that time comes it wont be for you to decide. The decision will be Sam’s, and he will choose to agree or refuse.”

“I can’t just sign him away like that, Morgana. What if…”

She didn’t let him continue; she held up a hand and shook her head.

“They are not malevolent, John. They are good and pure. They won’t harm Sam and they won’t ask him to do anything that is evil. You have a choice, you’re his father. You can stand back and let me do what I can or you can say stop and Sam will..” She glanced over to the boy, pale and motionless. She didn’t need to continue, it was all too clear.

John frowned, looking at his son. He was quiet for a long time before nodding and stepping back again. Missouri put a soft hand on his shoulder in comfort and Morgana nodded.

“John, could you go to Dean and break the connection he has with Sam? Just gather him in your arms because when the connection is severed he’ll be unconscious, I just need to turn Sam over and then we can re-establish their link.”

John stepped forward, crossing the Devil’s trap without hesitation and went to his oldest. Wrapping his arms around his son, he gently eased Dean away from Sam. Instantly Dean sagged in his arms, dead weight and John pulled him to his chest and cradled him like he used to when Dean had been a child.

Morgana sat the needle back in the velvet lined box before turning to Sam. She tapped each of the bundles laying on his body three times three, whispering a prayer before plucking them up one by one and laying them on the alter in a silver bowl that she quickly covered with a silver lid. They would need to burn them later on, the energy that they had soaked up was evil and impurities and fire was the only way to destroy it.

She was small but she had strength and she easily turned the Sam over onto his stomach. She cradled his head, turning it to the side so his face wasn’t smashed into the pillow. She was glad the boy was shirtless, she wouldn’t have to wrestle him out of his clothing and she slide the sheet down to bare the full length of his back. Tucking the sheets around his hips she looked down at the smooth pale plains of Sam’s back. He was so young and he’d carry these marks for the remainder of his life. She felt no hesitation.

“Ok, sit Dean back down and place his hand on Sam’s arm. He must be close, but not in the way.”

John did as she asked and as soon as Dean’s hand was back on Sam’s skin he returned to his previous state. Deeply entranced and lost in his brother, but able to sit under his own power without tumbling off the bed.

Picking up the needle again she turned it over in her hands, running it through the smoking incense to purify it. She then poured alcohol into a long narrow bowl and let the needle soak. She didn’t speak as she worked and she could feel three sets of eyes following her every move.

She brought out seven small glass vials, each one a different color, dyes that she had prepared earlier when she had returned from her walk. Her visions had prepared her well and she was grateful. Inside each was dye that she had boiled down from berries, flowers and roots. These natural items made perfect dyes for tattooing.

She took pinches of the powdered herbs and rock and sprinkled a bit of each into each of the vials. The color inside seemed to brighten, intensify as she recited the right incantations to imbue the dye with the power each of the seven held.

She sanitized her hands and taking up the needle she dipped the sharp hollowed tip into the vial of blue. The air in the room was energized, she could feel the apprehension from the three at her back and the blackness that swirled over Sam and Dean seemed to spike and shift chaotically as if the energy knew exactly what she had planed.

“Alcyone, hear us please.” She whispered, the name of the first of the seven as she steadied her hand and brought the needle to Sam’s back. She began work on the symbol, tattooing the soft skin between the boy’s shoulder blades. She worked quickly and skilfully at the design then cleaned the needle before tipping it into the red.

One color for each Goddess. Blue for Alcyone, the center and most powerful. Red for Sterope and yellow for Celæno. Magenta for Eleckra and Brown for Maia. Green for Merope and Orange for Taygeta.

Each symbol the size of a silver dollar all lined to form a cross, from the back of Sam’s neck down to the base of his spine, two forming the shorter piece on each of his shoulder blades.

Finally it was finished. Morgana didn’t know how much time had passed but she it must have been hours, her back was stiff and her hands sore. Looking down at the raised lines of color she took a deep breath, reciting a chant over and over again softly she picked up the cup holding the tea of holy water, pepper and basil and using a gauze pad she wiped down the tattoo with the tea, cleaning it of blood and dye and purifying the fresh marks.

The blackness that swirled around the boys was almost frantic now; it leapt off their bodies in sharp jagged spikes, curling at the peaks like smoke and drifting into the air. The ritual was almost complete, one last thing to do and the dead inside the boy would be locked away.

“The symbols will lock away the dead. They will still be inside him and I don’t know what will come from that, but they will not have free reign. He will not be a slave to them but they will be slaves to him.” She took the iron dagger from the alter, it was cold and heavy in her hand.

Taking what remained of the seven materials she rubbed them each over the blade as she spoke the last prayer, she repeated each three times before walking over to where Dean sat.

“Missouri, can you reach Dean? Like before when you called him back, can you reach him now?”

***

He felt warm and safe in the darkness. No fear and no pain, it caressed over his skin and held him tight like an embrace. He couldn’t recall ever feeling this way, perhaps this was what it was like when his Mom had held him, he wished he could remember. Dean closed his eyes and drifted on the feeling, lost in nothing and everything and he never wanted to leave.

“Dean...”

Missouri’s words tried to rouse him, tried to bring him away from the comfort he was feeling. He didn’t want to go.

“Dean, you have to listen to my voice, sweetie. You have to concentrate.”

“I don’t want to.” He wasn’t sure if he spoke, but it was there floating in the darkness around him. Words like whispers and soft caresses and he wanted the darkness to hold tighter to him and keep him where he was.

“You want to help Sam don’t you?”

Sammy? Of course he wanted to help his Sammy. Images floated past; Sam as a baby with his fat little fist stuck in his mouth and eyes wide and sparkling. Sam and him sitting on a motel bed watching G I Joe cartoons and eating peanut butter out of the jar with their fingers. Sam older, lips soft and open and the taste that Dean could never get enough of. His brother. So much love.

“Yes. Is he ok?” Dean struggled against the darkness, no longer holding him in comfort and protection but now trying to hold him down and keep him away.

“He’s ok, baby, but I need you to help him. Help him come back out of the darkness. Can you do that for me? Can you do that for Sam?”

He thought he could. It was his job. It had always been his job; to protect Sam, to help Sam. He nodded, struggling weakly against the darkness. It held him tight, constricting around his limbs and torso the more he fought against it. He struggled harder, muscles finally waking and it took eternity but finally he felt something snap. It was like a rubber band stretched too wide and when it finally snapped he felt it. Felt everything rushing back into him in brutal crashing waves and he wanted to be sick. He wanted to sink back down into the darkness and his mother’s arms. Sam needs me. I can do this. He needs me.

Dean stood in the darkness, perfect black all around.

“Missouri?” The name echoed around him.

“I’m here. I need you to walk, keep walking until you find Sam and when you find him you hold on tight and you don’t let go, Dean. Do you hear me? You don’t let go.”

Dean frowned. Just walk? Walk where? Everything was the same, no direction. Dean started walking. It doesn’t matter. Everywhere leads to Sammy. He smiled at the thought. It had always been true.

One minute or a million, there was no way for him to know. His footsteps echoed and he kept walking. He kept Sam in mind. Small moments through their lives, entwined together until it felt as if they were one. One body, one mind, one being.

Dean stopped suddenly. He wasn’t sure why but one moment he just couldn’t step forward anymore. Realizing he had had his eyes closed, perhaps from the first moment he couldn’t tell, he opened them to find himself standing in front of a door. The darkness was still there, still all around and the door looked like it was hung suspended in the inky blackness. I know this door. He did, but he couldn’t place it. The memory was just out of reach but he knew it was a door from sometime important in his life. Reaching up he pressed his palm to the white painted wood, it felt warm under his touch and there was a dull hum tingling his fingertips.

Sam’s inside.

The thought jolted him and he dropped his hand, with quick trembling fingers he reached for the knob. For a moment he was sure it was going to be locked tight but it turned easily and swung open.

He remembered the room from when he was a child. Perhaps not in perfect details, just snippets imprinted in his mind as his first memories. Perfect white walls, a shelf of stuffed animals mounted above the dresser and a half moon nightlight, the soft ticking from the clock. Home slammed into him so hard that he reeled with it. This was wrong. This place was gone. Sam’s nursery. The place where mom died. Fear and sadness like the sharp tang of blood filled his mouth. He wanted to shut the door.

It’s different. and it was. Instead of a crib there was a bed, a twin bed that Dean recognized as the kind in Jim’s guest rooms and above it a mobile of teddy bears and airplanes. He felt drawn forward, the light so dim from the small moon nightlight and most of the bed lay in shadows. Stepping into the room the door shut behind him, he heard the soft click of the latch and when he turned around there was nothing. No door just blackness like the door had never been. Turning back around he stood for a moment, taking in long steady breaths. He was no coward, the Winchesters were a lot of things but cowardly was not one of them. Steeling himself he stepped forward and approached the bed. As he drew closer he could see farther up in the bed. Something was huddled against the headboards.

“Sam?” Dean’s eyes widened. It was his brother and even as that word left his lips he was there. Sam looked up at him with huge wet eyes like he wasn’t sure if Dean was really there or not.

“Dean?” It was a weak whisper and Dean answered by grabbing his brother and pulling him into his arms. He held Sam tight and Sam clung just as tight to him, he could feel the tremors running through his brother and the soft sobs as Sam buried his face in the side of Dean’s neck.

“It’s ok, Sammy. I found you. It’s ok.” Dean whispered as he stroked his brother’s trembling back. Jesus, Sammy. Is it really you? Sam, I’ll never let go again.

***

Morgana took a deep breath when Missouri finally nodded. Dean had found Sam, it had taken hours. John and Jim sat together, whispering back and forth too low for her to hear. John looked horrible and her heart ached for him.

“John, I need you.” Both men looked up at her as she spoke and she offered a soft reassuring smile. “Dean found Sam and I need to end this now before…” She trailed off, not wanting to finish. She was still confused herself about what she’d seen, the born Demon and what that meant. John nodded solemnly and stood.

“Just like before, when Dean drops you have to catch him. It should be over after this.” She could feel the shift in the energy in the room. Anticipation and hope from the three adults around her, fear and hate and sickness from the blackness swirling over the two boys. Picking up the imbued iron dagger she reached out and pried open Sam’s mouth with her free hand, reaching inside to pluck out the small bundle of sage she had placed there earlier. It was no longer white. It was black and heavy, dripping with thick vile tar. She didn’t want to touch it, and where she did her finger tips burned and she felt sick to her stomach. It felt almost alive, thudding softly like a heartbeat and she gagged. She quickly placed it on the alter and drove the imbued dagger through its center. The smell was sickening. Rot and decay, the smell of the dead and with that the overpowering stink of sulphur.

“Merciful Jesus.” Missouri gasped and as the dagger pierced the bundle Dean crumbled into his father’s arms. John pulled the boy close but she could tell he was shocked and horrified by what she had just pulled out of his youngest son’s mouth.

“Take him out! Take him out, John!” She gasped and John nodded, Jim stepping forward to help him take Dean from the room.

Morgana was shaking, she felt as if she were going to shake apart. She stared down at the black wet bundle, it no longer throbbed with life but it was no less repulsive and terrifying. She quickly picked up the bundle using the dagger driven through it’s center and placed it in the bowl with the other bundles. She slammed the lid down quickly and turned away.

“We have to burn those. Burn them and bury the ashes.” Her voice was a weak whisper as she looked at her old friend. The older woman looked pale and stricken, her left hand worried the silver cross around her neck and she nodded.

“I’ll have John and Jim take care of it.”

“I think it’s done, Missouri.” Morgana looked down at Sam on the bed. He lay on his stomach; eyes closed breathing deep and soft. The tattoos on his back had been doctored while they had waited for Dean to find his brother and now that she looked at him she could see no more black. She leaned over the boy and gently thumbed open one eyelid, deep hazel underneath and she let out a long shaking breath as she stepped away. She felt like she might collapse. Missouri was at her side in an instant, guiding her over to a chair and sitting beside her.

“By the grace of God.” Missouri whispered as she rubbed Morgana’s back in soft circles.

“By the grace of Goddesses” Morgana answered and she started to cry.

[TBC]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

By The Light Of The Moon 5/5

2009-01-13T20:21:01Z

Ok.. here it is! Sorry it's taken so damn long to post but my Muse.. yeah you know how she can be! But this is it. I really hope it's not too big a disappointment and doesn't suck too much >.<

ETA: Super mad THANKS to aelfsiden without whom I would have never had this done. Thanks, Twinie!! <3

Title: By The Light Of The Moon 5/5
Author: ianthe_aveira Siset
Pairings/Characters: Werewolf!John/Werewolf!Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17 for smut and perversion! >:P
Word Count: 3448
Spoilers: Nope
Warnings: Smut ! Slash of course, AU, werewolf/human sex, angst, pain, incest, gore, possibly cheesy and cliche :) unbeta'ed
Disclaimer: My stories may be disturbing to some readers. Please read my journal disclaimer and all warnings. As always I own nothing :( it makes me sad. Everything belongs to The Kripke, lucky bastard.

Notes: Werewolf sex O.o plot bunny for this twisted verse by realpestilence She's one messed up chick <3 lol Feedback makes me happy :) The rest of my fics can be found here and at my fic comm eroticdiscord

Dean popped the panel off the steering column of the Jeep Cherokee. It was an older model and he had no doubts he’d be able to hot wire it. The Jeep was one of three parked out back of the now burning cabin, the other two didn’t look as reliable and with his baby and John’s truck out of commission for now this was the best it was going to get.

Twisting up under the column to get to the wires, glad momentarily for the flickering light off the flames he found the wires, pulled them free and finished the task quickly. The Jeep caught on the first touch and he popped up petting the dash. It was the ‘pala but it’d do for what he needed.

Sam was smiling at him, sitting in the passenger seat with his eyes bright and the tip of his nose red from the cold. It was a look that Dean never got enough of, a way he wished he could make his brother look all the time.

“Bet they don’t teach you that at Stanford.” Dean grinned, slipping behind the wheel and pulling the door shut.

“Dean, you taught me how to hotwire a car when I was twelve.” Sam laughed reaching for the heater knobs and turning it on full blast.

“Damn right. U of Dean. Life courses, all the shit you’ll ever need to know.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Dean smiled at his brother, he could almost forget. Almost. It was too normal, too what it used to be. John climbed into the back, he smelt of smoke and gasoline and Dean met his eyes in the rearview. Dark eyes so familiar, eyes that Dean remembered from every day of his life but even that too was different. It was all off. John had always looked at his sons with warmth and pride but now Dean could see an underlying heat in those dark depths and it scared him and made his stomach flip. His smile faded. His family was broken. Not shattered, no he’d never let it get that far. Dean would do everything in his power to keep the fragile pieces of his family intact, but they were definitely broken.

Dean averted his eyes, looking out the windshield and flipping the wipers. Snow was falling faster and night was coming.

**

Dean pulled into the driveway of the cabin, parking the Jeep between the Impala and John’s truck and killed the engine. A little less than an hour before moonrise and he could feel it in his stomach. He knew Sam wouldn’t let John hurt him, knew that as long as Sammy was around nothing bad would happen but the tension between John and Sam was so thick he wasn’t sure if he could keep them from killing each other. They’d come to a loose agreement. It was the best of a bad situation and Dean just hoped he had the strength to stand by it.

They climbed out of the Jeep, the snow was falling heavy and the wind was blowing cold. It stung his cheeks and was crisp in his lungs. He took in long deep breaths, wanting it to ground him and clear his head. There was no time to come up with a plan, hell he’d been trying to come up with something all day and he was no closer to figuring something out then he was the night before. He just knew that he would get through tonight, get Sam and John through the best he could and come first light they’d be in the Jeep and on their way to Bobby’s. It’d hurt to leave his Baby behind, but it was just until they could arrange to have them brought back to the Salvage Yard, few days max. No way in hell he was going to leave the Impala longer than that, werewolf curse or not.

John and Sam both seemed to gravitate towards him; they came up to stand at his sides, shoulders touching and he felt smothered. He’d never been one for touchy feely shit and having people hover around him was rubbing him the wrong way. It felt wrong. Maybe it was just because it was John. John had never been a toucher, never that hands on with his boys. A pat on the back was a rare thing and a hug, well he could probably count on one hand how often that’d happen since he was a kid. Hugs he could handle, fucking he wasn’t so sure about. All the chaos and he hadn’t been able to stop and think about it too deeply. He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to.

Sam though, hell he loved being around Sam. Loved the way their hands would brush sometimes; purely accidental of course, or how whenever Dean needed him Sam would be right there by his side. Now with everything that had happened, the sex and yeah it still felt wrong. Incest wasn’t supposed to feel right… right?? It’d take some time to get used to, but whatever this new relationship between him and Sam was, well he was all for it. Sam was his. Always had been, just like he had always been Sam’s. Just now they were fucking.

“We should go inside.” Sam said, staring up at the night sky. Millions of stars dazzled and soon the moon would rise. Full and beautiful and it would strip away everything that was his family, twisting it into a psychotic nightmare that Dean couldn’t wake from.

Dean felt John’s hand on the back of his neck, fingers like ice from the cold and he shivered at the touch. He turned to look at his dad. There was something that came with the Lycanthrope sickness; some acceptance of what they had become, some part of them that actually liked it. Dean could see it in John’s eyes now. A hunger that burned, wanting to devour him from the inside out. He saw the same look in Sam’s eyes sometimes, a brief moment when his brother was bare and open and it was there. That look and it scared the shit out of Dean. Somehow he’d figure out a way to stop this, he wanted his brother and his father back. They’d get to Bobby’s and find a way to cure this thing whether they wanted to be cured or not.

John’s fingers circled softly over his skin, rubbing the tense muscles there and suddenly it felt way too intimate a gesture. Dean stepped away, stuffing his freezing hands into his pockets and made his way to the cabin. John and Sam falling in just behind him and he felt like prey being stalked.

***

They sat waiting in the great room a fire burning brightly to chase away the chill. Dean felt frozen but it was an inner cold that no amount of external warmth could keep away. It was odd, just sitting there and waiting. It felt a little like giving up. The silence was deafening, the crack of wood in the fire and the thundering beat of his heart the only noise. The moon should be rising soon, any minute and he could see the slight tremors that ran through John and Sam. Fluttering of muscles just under the skin, a light beading of sweat popping out across their foreheads and upper lips and their eyes burning into him as they waited.

Sam was the first surrender to the change. Dean cringed when he his brother stood suddenly, breath coming in harsh pants and his face twisted in agony. There was nothing Dean could do; he wanted to turn away, wanted to close his eyes but he just sat there transfixed as he watched his brother. Sam tore at his t-shirt, his nails already growing longer. Shredding the material, nails biting into the soft skin of his chest to bring ribbons of crimson and the sounds he made, grunts and whimpers of pain and Dean wished it was him and not his baby brother going through this.

The sound of Sam’s breaking bones filled the room just as John fell from his chair to his knees on the floor. Dean watched in horror as they both started to turn, it was gruesome to watch. The Howling had nothing on this. Hollywood was so full of bullshit. Skin bulging and stretching grotesquely, bones breaking and reknitting into their new form and Dean had enough. He closed his eyes, putting his hands over his ears like he was a child watching his first horror movie and willed it all to end.

It felt like eternity that he sat there, hands only muffling the sounds of his brother and father’s agony and then all fell silent. He didn’t want to open his eyes, didn’t want to lower his hands but what choice did he have? He couldn’t sit here all night, they wouldn’t let him.

A puff of hot air ghosts across the side of his face, the smell of carrion and damnation and Dean’s eyes popped open. The beast that he knew was Sam was close, huge black eyes that were watching him. Ears perked and black coat gleaming.

“Jesus Sammy” Dean whispered lowering his hands slowly from his ears, his hands were shaking as he reached out to touch the soft fur at his brother’s muzzle. A low growl sounded to Dean’s right and he dropped his hand and turned to see John fully changed and stalking in a tight line back and forth between the couch and the fireplace. Sam answered John’s growl with one of his own, a warning and Dean knew that if he didn’t defuse the situation it could easily and quickly get out of hand.

Dean slowly stood, double set of black eyes watching his every move. He held up his hands reassuringly and then dropped them to his side. He knew Sam wouldn’t hurt him, John on the other hand he wasn’t so sure about.

“S’ok” He said, but it wasn’t. “Everything is going to be ok. We came to an agreement right? I know what you both want but…” He didn’t get to finish because John was suddenly right there in front of him. Large paws tipped with razor sharp claws came down on his shoulders, a heavy weight that pushed him easily to the ground. Grunting at the force, his hip banging painfully off the side of the coffee table and Sam was there in an instant. Snapping and growling at John until he backed off and went back to his stalking.

Sam’s nose was moist and hot against the side of his neck, nuzzling just under his ear as if questioning if he was alright. Dean grunted again and batted at his brother’s muzzle.

“M’ok, Sam. Stop breathing on me, Damnit. You got dog breath, dude.” Sam snorted as if insulted and Dean didn’t have the energy to fake a smile. Rising up to his knees Dean regarded them both. “Listen. I’m not a fucking chew toy. New rules, watch the damn teeth and those claws. I’m not going to say no so just take it easy.”

He wasn’t sure if they even understood him. Better to get this over with, if they wanted to fuck him then he’d just let it happen and be done with it. It was going to be a long night but no need to drag it out. If he gave them what they wanted maybe they’d just let him sleep until morning. Swallowing hard he looked from Sam to John; John’s arousal was obvious by the tip of his cock poking out of his sheath. Dean remembered what that felt like, how huge and painful it was.

Reaching up with shaking hands he slide off his flannel and tossed it away, pulling off his t-shirt next he closed his eyes. The wounds on his back felt raw and throbbing, his ass felt the same. Reminders of what could happen, what would happen if the situation got out of hand. It could quickly turn from placating Sam and John to full out rape and that’s definitely not something he ever wanted to go through again.

He heard Sam whine softly and the warm wetness of his brother’s tongue along the side of his throat. It would be so different if it were just Sammy. Sam could be gentle, hungry and demanding but he wouldn’t hurt Dean unneeded.

Soft wet licks along his throat, a nuzzle behind his ear. It felt good, it started to calm him. Tilting his head back, exposing the long line of his throat he sighed softly. Another moist nose nuzzled his jaw on the other side, a dart of a hot tongue and he knew it was John joining in. This was ok, this he could deal with.

They licked and nuzzled him, tongues slipping down over his collar bones and along side his shoulders. Wet warmth on his skin and he felt himself start to respond, his dick giving a slight jerk in his jeans. If he kept his eyes closed he could pretend.

John’s sharp teeth scrapped along the side of his pec making Dean hiss and he knew that it had drawn blood by the deep rumbling sound his father made and the way he kept lapping at that spot. Sam’s tongue slide down over his chest, hard and flat against his nipple until it hardened and Dean raised his hands, curling one into the coarse hair on the back of his brother’s head and the other through John’s.

They lavished him with their tongues until he was trembling, moaning softly at the pleasure spreading through him. Sam’s nose was cold against his belly, tracing the waist band of his jeans and Dean reached down and unbuttoned them. They backed off him enough for him to rise and toe off his boots and socks, stripping out of his jeans and underwear and tossing them away. He was hard and leaking against his stomach and they caught his scent.

John growled low and he was on Dean in a flash, pushing him to the floor again and Sam snapped in warning. Everything could go to hell so quickly and Dean did the only thing he could. He reached out and grabbed John’s sheath firmly in his hand, it was hot and throbbing under his fingers and he could feel the hard thickness hiding inside. His other hand reached out, petting low over Sam’s belly. Entwining his fingers in the soft fur there, tugging lightly as he looked into his brother’s eyes. They could always communicate silently, a glance held more than a wordy conversation and at first he wasn’t sure that his brother would understand, but Sam tilt his head to the side and slowly backed away.

Turning his attention back to John, Dean stroked John through his sheath until he was thick and leaking and fully aroused. Moving slowly he pushed his other hand firmly on John’s side, motioning that he wanted John to lie down. There was an opening for Dean to regain some form of control and he almost sighed with relief when John finally relented and lay heavily down on his side.

“Ok, yeah.” Dean glanced at Sam for a moment before going to his hands and knees beside his father, positioning himself so that he could have easy access. John’s cock was huge, the head was tapered and so different than a human dick. It gleamed wet and thick and Dean leaned down to flick his tongue over the slit. The noise John made gave Dean hope, a quick blow job and let Sam fuck him and that wasn’t so bad. He could do that.

Opening his lips he slid John’s cock into his mouth. The taste was so different and he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to it, not that he had sucked a lot of cocks before these last few days but yeah, werewolf precum and human precum completely different sides of the scale. Closing his eyes tightly he pushed the thought away and put his mind to the task in front of him. With any luck it wouldn’t take long at all.

Dean felt Sam lick up the inside of his thigh, wet fire igniting across his skin and he widened his knees. He wanted his brother’s tongue on him, wanted it to sooth away the ache from what John did to him, hot wet silk sliding into him to make him forget. The first touch of his brother’s tongue against his hole made him gasp around John’s length. His cock dribbling precum steadily as Sammy gently licked and probed and he had to pull off John to pant for breath.

“Fuck, Sam. So good.” John made a frustrated impatient noise, his hips hitching forward to push the tip of his cock roughly against Dean’s cheek and Dean took the hint, turning and swallowing him again. No way could he take all of his father, John’s cock was huge but he gave it the best he could and opened his throat as he stroked over the remaining length with a firm fist.

Sam’s tongue slid wet and hot past Dean’s tight muscles, pushing into him in a way a human’s tongue never could. Dean arched his back, angling his hips as Sam fucked him. Pleasure bright and burning up his spine and sizzling through his brain. All too soon Sam pulled his tongue out and Dean groaned at the lose, lips stretched tight around John who gave a loud whimper at the noise traveling through his shaft and spurted more precum down Dean’s throat.

Sam mounted him; heavy on Dean’s back, fur scratching into the wounds along his spine as he tucked his huge paws around Dean’s hips. The tip of Sam’s cock left a trail of burning heat along his ass as his brother probed for his saliva slick hole. Dean shifted, helping to angle himself and he gagged around John as Sam sank deep. It hurt, burning and thick as it stretched him but Jesus, it brushed his prostate perfectly and the pain was outdone by the insane pleasure that slammed through him.

John took advantage of Dean’s blissed out state by thrusting his hips forward and shoving even more of his cock down Dean’s throat. Pistoning in and out of his mouth until tears sprung up in his eyes, on the verge of coming and all Dean could do was steady himself and hang on. Sam was panting and growling behind him, thick cock throbbing and filling him completely. Solid quick thrusts, fucking him hard enough to make Dean insane without hurting him further.

He wasn’t going to last long. No way. Not with John fucking his throat and Sammy fucking his ass. Gasping for air through his nose when John eased up enough to make it a possibility, one hand stroking his dad faster and harder, the other braced on the hardwood floor against Sam’s thrusts. The world was spinning and then Dean was coming. White burst behind his eyelids, pleasure bowing his spine and searing it’s way through him and he was so lost in the ecstasy of his orgasm he didn’t even notice when John swelled and then spilled down his throat. Pumping endless spurts of sticky come into his stomach and Dean didn’t even have to swallow. The world tilted and Dean gagged as John pulled roughly out of his mouth and Sam made a choked off whimper before following into his own orgasm. Searing heat coating Dean’s insides with spurt after spurt of his brother’s release. It seemed endless, Sam fucking him through his orgasm until cum was overflowing and leaking down Dean’s balls.

Dean collapsed when Sam pulled out, he felt worn thin and worn out. Well fucked and nauseous with John’s come churning in his belly. His ass felt gaping and hot, throbbing in time with his pounding heartbeat. Panting he laid there, hyper aware of his body and he wasn’t sure where John was and he didn’t care. He felt Sam slid up beside him, curling and laying his muzzle down on the center of Dean’s shoulder blades. Reaching out weakly he wrapped his arm around the thick muscular length of his brother’s neck and held him close.

“Sammy” A soft whisper, he didn’t have strength enough for anything more. It was enough. Sam snorted warm air across his back softly and nuzzled against his heated skin. There were no yesterdays or tomorrows; right then there was nothing else. Dean closed his eyes and let unconsciousness claim him.

FIN

| Part 1 | | Part 2 | | Part 3 | | Part 4 | | Part 5 |

meme thing

2009-01-13T20:20:59Z

So there is a meme going around and I want to play :)

Ask me a question about one of my stories. It can be absolutely anything in any fic and I will tell you the honest-to-god answer. Don’t hold back. Ask about my plans for future parts of my current series' if you want to. (but keep in mind, I may not have anything firm/definite in the works) Anything. Whatever you ask, I will try my best to answer.

eta: OH! What is this? The final chapter of my fullmoon!verse finished and sitting here waiting to be shiny and posted? O.o Werewolf sex anyone? hehehe I'm worried about it >.< but I'll post it as soon as I make it purty. Tonight sometime!

Snakes Of November (NC17 Dean, Sam, John, OMC, OFC)

2009-01-13T20:20:58Z

Title: Snakes Of November 1/2
Author: ianthe_aveira Siset
Pairings/Characters: Dark!Dean, Dark!Sam, Dark!John, OMC, OFC
Rating: NC17 (Violence)
Word Count: 1641
Spoilers: Nope
Warnings: AU, dark, insanity, implied a bunch of stuff ;P, violence, language, unbeta'd
Disclaimer: My stories may be disturbing to some readers. Please read my journal disclaimer and all warnings. As always I own nothing :( it makes me sad. Everything belongs to The Kripke, lucky bastard.

Notes: No sex in this part. Part 2 is going to be filthy lol Part of my Snakes Of November!Verse. Feedback makes me happy :) The rest of my fics can be found here and at my fic comm eroticdiscord

Perhaps from the very moment of their monsterous births it was decreed, by some sadistic jack-in-office of the universe that they should befoul and ruin a fellow creature they never heard of... in a city they had never seen.

- Dylan Thomas, The Doctor and the Devils

***

Marion Finch finished the night’s dishes. She dried her hands on a dishtowel and resting her hands on her hips she stretched her back. The end of a long day and she could feel all her years, she was exhausted and tomorrow was another early day. All she wanted now was to curl up on the couch with Daniel; her husband, and watch some TV until bedtime. Tossing the towel onto the counter she looked out the window above the sink. Twin headlights burned brightly, some vehicle on the long dirt driveway and approaching the farmhouse. Frowning she glanced to the clock on the far wall, just after nine. They weren’t expecting anyone and they hardly ever got visitors this late at night, unless it was an emergency. Her stomach clenched when her mind raced with the thought of her father in the nursing home in town, but surely if something happened to him they’d call.

Turning away from the window she crossed into the living room. Daniel sat in his chair, feet kicked up on the coffee table and if she wasn’t so worried she’d have something to say about that.

“Someone’s coming up the drive.” She announced and even as the words left her lips her son was up from where he was doing homework on the floor in front of the TV and at the big picture window. Amanda rolled her eyes at her brother.

“You’re such an idiot.” Billy was nosey like his grandmother which always offered an endless supply of sibling ammunition for teasing. Marion gave her daughter a pointed look and Amanda just shook her head and turned back to her calculus book.

“Huh.” Daniel stood, tucking the flaps of his flannel shirt back into his jeans as if he had to look presentable for whoever it was. The silent look that passed between them confirmed to Marion that he hadn’t been expecting anyone either.

“Wow! That’s a kick ass car.” Billy gaped out the window.

“Don’t say ass.” It was automatic and she didn’t even realize she said it as she joined her son at the window. Ok, perhaps she was a bit nosey as well but being so far out in the country made company few and far between. She was curious to who it could be and what they could want.

It was some sort of big black muscle car. She didn’t know the make or model, never was much for cars but she knew for certain she didn’t recognize who it belonged to. Turning for a moment she watched Daniel walk out of the living room on his way to the front door and she felt her stomach drop. There was no reason for the chill to travel up her spine, no reason for wanting to call out to her husband and tell him not answer the door. A bad case of the heebie jeebies, a goose walking over her grave and she wrapped her arms around her middle against the cold spreading through her and turned back to the window.

A man and two teen boys climbed out. They were strangers. Harrisford was a small town and maybe she didn’t know everyone by name but she was positive she had never seen them before.

“Maybe they’ve come to take Billy back to the lab. Realized they made a mistake letting the missing link out of his cell.”

“Shut up, butt face!” Billy grumbled pressing closer to the pane of glass to get a better look at their guests.

Marion frowned and shook her head, they were at that age were they bickered constantly and she realized she wasn’t the only one on edge when Amanda had no reply. The porch light flipped on, bathing the strangers in amber light as they walked towards the porch. The man was tall and broad shouldered and he walked with confidence that immediately made her think he had been military sometime in his life. The two boys followed behind the man carrying duffle bags in their hands, they walked close together arms and shoulders touching, almost the same height but the fair headed one was obviously older, perhaps a year older than Amanda. It felt wrong, she didn’t like it at all.

“Daniel..” Marion turned calling out to her husband and tugging the back of Billy’s t-shirt. “You get away from there, finish your homework.”

“Aw Mom..” He started and she silenced him with a glare. Billy sighed loudly and Amanda giggled. Marion shook her head and turned, she hurried to the front hallway.

“Daniel..” She started again, he smiled at her as he opened the front door to welcome the strangers.

The noise was deafening. It boomed through the hallway shaking the windows in the house and for a second she was confused. It was a noise she knew, but couldn’t place. She blinked and Daniel was kicked up off his feet and flung backwards into the hallway, his chest gaping and crimson and the smell of gunpowder and blood hit her like a freight train. A scream ripped its way from her as the strange man walked through the open door; a smoking sawed off in his hands.

**

“Nam supérbi insurréxunt contra me, et violénti quasiérunt vitam meam;
non proposuérunt Deum ante óculos suos.”

Marion groaned in pain as the boot connected with her side again. Her ribs were broken and she could hardly draw in a breath because the pain was agonizing. Her hands and feet were tied with some length of wire that cut deep into her skin keeping her immobile and anytime she screamed, begged or pleaded that same heavy booted foot would explode pain through her body. She was reduced to silent wet sobs and silent frantic prayer.

**

“Ecce, Deus ádjuvat me,
óminus susténtat vitam meam.”

She was laying face down on the floor of her living room in a puddle of blood. It wasn’t hers, not all of it. If she turned her head to the side she would be face to face with her daughter. Long blonde hair now matted with crimson and gore, the older boy had taken off half her head with the shotgun and all Marion could think of was when the doctor had first laid that pink screaming baby in her arms sixteen years ago and how happy she had been.

**

“Retórque malum in adversários meos,
et pro fidelitáte tua déstrue ilos.”

Billy screamed behind her, his voice breaking as it rose over the steady drone of whatever the man was reciting. She didn’t want to imagine was happening to her baby boy and she screamed.

“You son’a bitches! Leave him alone! Don’t do this! Please!”

The older blonde boy kicked her again, steel toes connecting with her hip and the pain was red hot. She whimpered and he knelt by her head, wrapping his fingers in her hair and pulling back sharply. His smile was wide and white and she wanted to scream again at the sight of his blood splattered face.

“You’re going back to hell were you belong, you demonic bitch.” He slammed his fist into the side of her head and white exploded through her skull. “and don’t you fucking talk about my mom.” He hissed giving her head a rough shake before letting her go.

She watched in horror as he reached into his duffle bag and produced a jar of clear liquid and a rosary. Opening the jar he knelt back down and forced her mouth open with a bruising hand on her chin. He looked so calm. They all looked so damn calm.

He poured the liquid into her mouth; she sputtered and wanted to scream. Her mind frantic with Acid and Poison but it tasted only like stale water. He forced the rosary between her teeth. Wood and metal and coppery blood. He stared down at her as he gripped her chin, holding her mouth closed around the rosary. His eyes were the most brilliant green she had ever seen and they reminded her of snake’s eyes.

“Swallow it.” He growled and she had no choice. Her mouth was filling with blood again so she swallowed. She could feel it traveling down her throat, rough and cold and she wondered how God could let this happen.

**

“Voluntárie sacrificábo tibi,
celebrábo nomen tuum, Dómine, quia bonum est.”

The third shotgun blast shook the farmhouse and Marion couldn’t even scream when she felt her son’s warm blood spray across her back. Her family. Her husband and her kids murdered in front of her. She had stopped asking why this was happening. They wouldn’t give her any answers. She wanted them to kill her, just get it over with and kill her too. The lose was soul shattering. Her babies. Her sweet innocent babies.

Marion gagged on blood, didn’t even have the strength to turn her head as she retched crimson. She was bleeding to death. Each breath was wet with blood, filling her lungs, filling her throat and mouth and she had to keep swallowing just to drag in a shallow breath. Her eyes were swollen closed, she could only see in red filmed blurs and she had lost count of the broken bones. Pain was constant, extreme and throbbing and she couldn’t even cry anymore.

**

“Nam ex omni tribulatióne eripuit me,
et inimícos meos confúsos vidit óculos meus.”

The younger boy was kneeling beside her, his hand small and sticky with blood through her hair.

“You’re so pretty.”

“She’s a demon, Sammy. She’s not pretty.”

“I meant the human body, Dean.”

“She’s old.”

“Don’t listen to him. You’re so pretty, Mrs. Finch. I’m sorry we couldn’t save you but you were already dead.”

**

“Glória Patri”

The feel of the barrel pressed against the back of her head was welcoming.

[TBC]

Part 2

Other fics from this verse here and in no order lol

Drabble!Verse

2009-01-13T20:20:57Z

So I've been writing some drabbles for awhile now about Girl!Dean :) So I thought I'd share my little drabble!verse lol <3 Originally posted at 100wordsofsmut in 100 word drabbles. Should read pretty smoothly into one another :)

Author: ianthe_aveira Siset
Overall Pairings: Girl!Dean/Ash, Girl!Dean/Sam
Spoilers: Not really. Nothing 3rd season
Overall Ratings: NC17
Overall Warnings: Pre-wincest & wincest, drug references, sex, angst, poor sentence structure because it's supposed to be 100 word drabbles and I had to do some creative twisting. lol

lyrics by Lynyrd Skynyrd's The Hunt.

They played pool like they fucked. Dirty. Ash would tip her cue and she’d press her breasts against his back. They drank too much PBR and fed the juke-box quarters in a never ending war of southern mullet and heavy classic and it was one of those nights when nothing mattered and everything was ok.

Dean melded up to Ash’s side capturing his bottom lip in a sucking kiss and when his focus was on her she fingered the ball a few inches to align her next shot.

Sam glared from across the Roadhouse and Dean pretended not to notice.

****

Ash wasn’t so bad. He was smart, he always had primo-green and he liked to listen to AC/DC when they fucked. Ok, so he had a mullet but she could look past that.

Dean stretched out on Ash’s bed, she was naked and warm, floating on the blunt they had smoked earlier and the three orgasms Ash had given her with his tongue buried deep in her pussy. She smiled as she watched him, naked standing infront of the mini-fridge, door open chugging a PBR and scratching his ass.

“Classy.” She smirked and he grinned and brought her a beer.

****

“You leaving?” Ash asked, he was naked and high and sprawled out across the floor. She grinned and nudged him with the toe of her boot. She’d stay but Sam was going to be up soon and she really needed some sleep. If she stayed here with Ash they wouldn’t sleep and Sam would be all pissy in the morning. He grinned lazily and wrapped his hand around her ankle and tugged. He pulled her boot to his lips and kissed the dusty black leather and Dean’s fingers paused on the button of her jeans.

“Stay.”

“You’re such a chick.”

****

She rode him dirty and rough, sliding her hips against his as they kissed and sucked and licked. His lips pulled blooms across her throat. Her nails sharp against his chest, scratching welts into his ribs as he fucked into her. Ash drove her crazy.

The door to Ash’s room banged open, everything slowed and then stopped and Dean gaped at her brother. Sam looked annoyed and disapproving and Dean wanted to kick him in the nuts. What the hell? Why did he care who she fucked? Dean picked up her boot and threw it.

“The fuck, Sammy! Get out!”

****

She slipped into their room, early morning light slanting across the floor. With any luck Sam would still be asleep; she really didn’t feel like his shit this early.

“You threw a boot at my head.”

Dean paused with a frown looking over to Sam’s bed. He sat cross legged in the center, an almost empty bottle of Jose cradled in his lap. Perfect.

“You’re drunk.” She smirked, shrugging off Sam’s words and shutting the door behind her. “Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. Drunk at five in the morning? I’m surprised.” I’m sorry.

“Dean, you threw a boot at my fucking head.”

****

“Next time you wont be a freak and you’ll knock.” Toeing off her boots she slid off her leather jacket. “Why the hell are you so pissy?”

“Well lets see..” Sam sat the bottle haphazardly on the bedside table and stood up. He swayed, caught his balance and grimaced. She snickered. Served him right.

“Y’get drunk, disappear with Ash all night. Dean, it’s Ash!” He slurred taking a few unsure steps towards her. Dean narrowed her eyes.

“Why do you care who I fuck anyways, Sammy?”

“Because it’s not me.” Sam frowned and Dean gapped, well this was something unexpected.

****

“Ok… awkward.” Dean muttered, tossing her jacket on a chair. “You’re drunk. Go to sleep, Sammy before I kick your ass.”

Sam was just drunk, that’s all. Didn’t know what he was saying, never could hold his alcohol.

She turned to walk to her bed, wanting to sleep and forget everything but he was there towering in front of her. She blinked surprised up at him, grabbing both her wrists in his hands he pulled her to his chest.

“Sam! The fuck…”

“Shut up, Dean.” Voice low and rough and before she could even blink his mouth was on hers.

****

She did the only thing she could. She pulled free and laid Sam out. He blinked up at her, hand on his jaw and blood on his lip. Dean flexed her hand hoping she hadn’t broken anything. She hit Sam too hard and she felt guilt and shame spiraling cut her anger. Damnit Sammy!

“Get some sleep, Sam.” She gritted, grabbing her jacket. Dean stopped at the door and turned to look at him. Sam sat up slowly and met her eyes. It didn’t matter what they wanted.

“You’re my brother. We.. .I..” We can’t. I love you.

“I know.”

****

Dean was angry. Angry with Sam. Angry with herself. She was supposed to watch out for him. Her little brother. He couldn’t blur those lines. It wasn’t fair. Goddamnit!

Dean knocked on the door; frowning at that idiotic “Dr. Badass” sign and hoped to hell he didn’t ask. She just wanted to forget. The door cracked open and he blinked sleepily out at her.

“Dean?”

She pushed open the door and grabbed his shoulders. He was still naked and warm from sleep. Crushing her lips to his she pushed him back into the room and kicked the door shut behind.

****

“Not that I mind you being all aggressive but…” Ash started as she broke the kiss to strip out of her jacket.

“No talking.” Dean growled pushing herself up against him and devouring his mouth again. Ash, with only the briefest pause returned her kiss. She wrapped her hands up in his hair, entwining her fingers and holding his head to hers. His hands slid down over her hips and gripped her ass to yank her flush up against him. She could feel his hard heat through her jeans and ground herself against it.

“Fuck me, Ash.” Make me forget.

****

While I'm waiting for Supernatural

2009-01-13T20:20:56Z

While I'm waiting for Supernatural to finish :( I decided to write something!

Title: Thursday outside Tulsa
Rating: PG
Spoilers: S2
Characters: Dean, Sam, Ash, Andy
Warnings: Confusion
Wordcount: 184

“So thanks.” Ash finished, running a hand over his newly shorn head. He flashed them a smile and turned around to Andy.

“So, wait. I’m not dead?” Andy blinked, arms wrapped around his middle tightly looking like he might disappear or explode at any minute.

“Vaya con dios “ He called over his shoulder as he clapped a hand down heavy on Andy’s back. “You’re coming with me, Sparky. The open road, killing shit. Doing things.”

Andy looked like he might be ill, eyes dark and wide but he let Ash steer him towards the Jeep and they both climbed in. Grandfunk boomed as the Jeep started and Andy peered over the seat with shocked confusion to stare back at them until they disappeared out of sight.

They stood there silently for a few moments before Dean turned to Sam.

“The fuck just happened?”

Sam blinked and shrugged. It had been one hell of a week and he was just as lost as his brother.

“Something about cucumbers.”

Dean frowned and looked back down the long gravel driveway and shrugged.

“I need a drink.”

*hugs my flist*
I want to watch SPN damnit! :(

Green (NC17 John/Sam)

2009-01-13T20:20:55Z

Title: Green
Author: ianthe_aveira Siset
Pairings/Characters: John/Sam
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 2700
Spoilers: None
Warnings: angst, daddycest, kink (panties), slash, smut, incest, dub non-con, pwp, underage, language
Disclaimer: My stories may be disturbing to some readers. Please read my journal disclaimer and all warnings. As always I own nothing :( it makes me sad. Everything belongs to The Kripke, lucky bastard.

Notes: Beta by the most awesome samdeanfetish Thanks sweetie! All mistakes are mine alone. This story was written for her and sammynce It's nasty dirty fun! :D It's nasty dirty fun! :D Feedback makes me happy :) The rest of my fics can be found here and at my fic comm eroticdiscord

Sam stared down at the plastic package in his hands. It was too hot in the coffin sized bathroom; no window to let in light and fresh air just a wheezing fan and a damn heat light up above making it even hotter. He felt confined and sweaty and embarrassed. Looking up from the package to the age-spotted mirror above the sink he stared at his reflection. He was blushing. It was stupid because he was alone in the bathroom but he was blushing anyway. He could say no, go back out into the main room and give Dad the package and just say no. He could but he knew he wouldn’t. Dad wanted this, wanted him to do this and if Dad wanted it then Sam couldn’t say no.

Sighing he laid the package down on the sink and kicked off his sneakers. Just get it over with. Quickly he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them and his boxers down and stepped out of the pool of material. He tried not to think about it, tried not to think of the way his Dad’s eyes would travel over him and how that would make him feel.

Frowning at his reflection he reached for the package and ripped it open, his hands were clammy and slick against the plastic and he was shaking a little. The panties came three to a package, small bikini cut nylon with bows on the front. Grimacing he took out a green pair, unfolding them and ripped off the bow. He’d wear the panties like Dad wanted but he wasn’t going to wear anything with a damn bow, he wasn’t a girl no matter what Dean said. Tossing the offending ribbon into the toilet he pulled on the panties. The material was silky and smooth against his skin, fitting perfectly as he tucked himself into them and rearranged things until it was comfortable and he wasn’t falling out anywhere.

He felt himself blushing again. Leaning up on his tip toes he tucked his t-shirt under his armpits and braced his hands on the side of the sink, he tried to angle himself higher so he could catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. It didn’t work, the lowest he could see was his navel. Frowning he blew a huff of breath up to stir his bangs away from his eyes and settled back flat footed again.

“You look stupid.”

He told his reflection and almost jumped out of his skin when his Dad pounded on the bathroom door.

“Sam?”

“Yeah. Just a second!”

Sam called; grabbing his jeans and pulling them back on. It felt weird, the denim against the nylon but not bad. Maybe it felt even good. Kicking his sneakers and boxers into the corner by the door he buttoned his jeans and took a deep breath. This was all sorts of fucked up. Smoothing down his t-shirt and dragging a hand through his too-long hair he opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the main part of the hotel room.

Dean was gone, chasing beer and tail at a nearby pool hall and Sam was glad. Dean always made him feel girly and faggy when he did this sort of stuff, smirking and ragging on him until John stepped in. He loved his brother but Dean could be an asshole sometimes.

John stood across the room, he had been staring at the series of obituaries tacked to one wall while he waited and when Sam stepped out he turned and smiled. Sam could feel his dad’s eyes traveling over him and even though he was fully clothed he still felt stripped bare under those eyes. Sam chewed on his bottom lip and stuck his hands into his pockets. He could feel himself blushing again. Stop being such a girl! but he couldn’t help it. Dad always made him feel this way and John liked it when he blushed.

“C’mere Sam.”

John raised his hand and motioned for Sam to come close. Sam stood there for a minute longer until John curled his fingers impatiently and then, taking a deep breath he crossed the room to his father.

John’s fingers were rough with calluses and Sam shivered as they traced his cheeks and jaw. Caressing and petting until Sam raised his eyes to look up at his Dad. Those fingers padded lightly over his lips before reaching up and tugging a strand of long hair over his eyes.

“So pretty.”

Sam licked his lips and looked down at his bare feet, his toes curling in the ‘70s shag carpet. John’s fingers left his face and Sam raised his arms obediently when his Dad pulled off his t-shirt. He felt on display for John and it made swallowing hard and his stomach flutter. Soft ghost touches across his chest, a nail scraped over and over again across his nipple until he gasped and tried to pull away. John chuckled low, reaching out and palming the back of Sam’s head and drawing him closer.

“Take off your pants, son.”

Sam could hear the tremor in his Dad’s voice, the way it got all low and wavered at the end of his words. It made him feel drunk hearing that in his father’s voice. All for him. Nodding Sam reached down and unbuttoned his jeans, his fingers lingered for a second and he looked up at his Dad. John was watching his fingers at his fly, licking his lips and waiting. Sam pulled down his zipper and let his pants fall down his hips and around his ankles.

“Jesus, Sam.”

John’s fingers tightened on the back of his head for a second before dropping away and Sam could feel himself blushing, red and hot as John stepped back and took in the entire sight of him. Reaching out John slid his hand over the silky material at Sam’s hip, thumb rough as it caressed over the jut of bone just above the waist band.

“Love you looking like this, baby boy.”

Sam shivered as his Dad’s hand slid around front, palming him slowly through the thin material until his cock hardened. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly he pressed forward into John’s hand. It felt good, being touched like this and it didn’t matter so much that it was his Dad’s hand and not Dean’s.

Sam grunted softly when John’s fingers curled around his growing erection through the panties. Slow firm strokes, thumb maddening in tight circles across his tip until he was rocking against his Dad, leaking pre-cum and making soft noises that Dean always teased him about.

“That’s it, Sammy.”

John whispered into the side of his throat and Sam’s eyes fluttered closed at the rasp of stubble and moist breath. He was vaguely aware that his Dad was moving him, a firm hand on the small of his back and tugging at Sam’s cock with the other. His back connected with the motel wall. Sam could feel the plastic heads of thumb tacks; they pressed bites into his back and shoulders as John pressed against him and held Sam against the wall.

Rough fingers slid down his ribs, tracing ice into his heated skin. Sam looked up at his Dad, John was panting softly his pupils blown wide as he gazed down at his son. I can say stop.

John sunk to his knees in front of Sam, lips pressing open mouth kisses to his hips as his fingers slid over the silky roundness of his ass. Sam stilled, pressing his back up against the wall, the bite of plastic in his skin twisting through his nerves and making him thrust his hips forward against his Dad’s cheek. The slide of nylon against day old stubble, heat and friction that almost sent Sam crashing over the edge.

John laughed against his stomach, teeth grazing skin just above elastic. Sam felt dirty, it felt wrong. Only Dad could make him feel this way. Desperate and strung out, begging and needing and hating every moment of it.

“Dad, please.”

Sam spread his feet wider apart; inviting John’s roaming fingers into the valley of his ass. Thick fingers slid over nylon, pressing harder to rub smooth against Sam’s center. Sam was shaking, it feel like he would come apart and the moment he felt the wet hotness of his Dad’s mouth wrap around his panty covered cock he came.

The world whited out and it felt like what he imagined dying would feel like. Everything stopping. Nothing. Sam pressed back into his Dad’s fingers as John sucked and mouthed him through his orgasm.

Slowly the world came back, dark at the edges and thundering in his ears in time to his pounding heartbeat. John placed a kiss to his quivering stomach, wet and sticky before standing. Sam took a deep shuddering breath before opening his eyes. John was staring down at him, smiling and he reached out to pet a hand over Sam’s hair. Sam wanted to shower, he wanted to shower and sleep and forget but the look in his Dad’s eyes he knew that this was just the beginning.

John’s fingers tightened in the back of his hair, tugging lightly and angling Sam’s head as he leaned down and devoured Sam’s mouth. Teeth and tongue and it stole Sam’s breath. Putting his balled fists on his Dad’s chest he tried to push John back, his lungs screaming for oxygen. John pulled back with a deep growl, hands rough as he pulled Sam close and flipped him around in his arms.

“Such a good boy.”

Words bitten into the sensitive skin behind Sam’s ear and he couldn’t help but shiver. He felt weak and flushed and burning alive in his skin. John grabbed him around the waist and manhandled Sam over to the motel desk, sweeping the tattered yellow pages and stationary off the surface he gripped Sam’s wrists roughly and bent him over the desk. Sam whimpered softly as John firmly placed his hands on the desk, bracing him as he kicked Sam’s feet wider apart.

Sam closed his eyes and let his head fall forward; long hair falling into his face to curtain out the world. He could feel his father’s heart pounding through John’s chest and into his back and the hard outline of his Dad’s cock pressing through denim against his nylon covered bottom. Grunting John rutted against him for a moment, mouthing wet kisses along Sam’s shoulders before pulling back and sliding his hands down Sam’s back and over his ass.

Soft wordless sounds of appreciation drifted in the humid hotel room, rough hands smoothing over him and Sam felt on display under his dad’s hungry gaze. Still foggy from his orgasm it took his mind a moment to register the sharp sting of his Dad’s hand on the curve of his ass. The second blow made him gasp and jerk forward against the desk, the sharp edge of faux-wood digging into his hips as he tried to pull forward away from his Dad’s spanking. Blow after blow, fingers rubbing and massaging the sting away before bringing more pain. He could feel the welts springing red and hot to his skin and Sam couldn’t hold back a low shaking sob.

John chuckled softly; hand smoothing stinging skin and Sam blinked back his tears. Sam tensed when his Dad’s hands left him and he steadied himself for a blow that never came. Instead the sound of metal on metal as John pulled down his zipper and Sam squeezed his eyes tighter closed in knowledge of what was to come. The panties were roughly pulled down over his hips and Sam felt a blunt finger pressing against the center of him.

“Dad. Please, it hurts.”

Sam hissed at the sting as John forced the tip just past the tight ring of muscle. The finger was quickly pulled away and Sam could feel his Dad’s hands slide between his thighs to gather his come off the crotch of the panties. A slick finger pushed at him and he gritted his teeth as John slid his finger deep. Pressure and fullness and the slide of his dad’s finger inside him, stretching him and preparing and Sam was shaking as his mind reeled. John knew just where to touch, just the right pressure over Sam’s prostate and soon Sam was fully hard and leaking against the surface of the desk under him. Another finger added, slight burning as his Dad fingered him open and Sam pressed back into those wiggling fingers with a loud moan.

“That’s it, baby. Gonna feel so good when I fuck you.”

Sam winced when his Dad’s fingers were quickly pulled from his body and replaced by the slick thick head of John’s cock. Holding Sam steady with hands on his hips John pressed steadily forward into his son until he was fully sheathed.

“Tight, so damn tight, Sam.”

Too short a time for Sam to fully adjust to the penetration. No slow thrusts building up a pleasurable rhythm. John fucked his son hard and relentlessly into the desk, hips snapping forward as he grunted and cursed against Sam’s back. Sam swallowed his groans of discomfort, hands slick with sweat and sliding along the desk surface until he lost his balance and fell forward onto his chest. The new angle brought John deeper and Sam could feel the wet sting of tears in the corners of his eyes, it hurt but he couldn’t help moaning and pressing back into the thrusts. It shouldn’t feel like this, shouldn’t feel so good and so bad at the same time.

Time stood still, minutes or hours it didn’t matter, it felt like forever that his Dad fucked him. Sam knew he’d have bruises, knew it’d be hard to sit still in the backseat of the Impala tomorrow morning. Finally John pulled out and Sam was finally able to breathe again. He waited to feel the hot splash of his dad’s release against his welted cheeks but it never came. Instead John grabbed him by the shoulders and roughly turned him around, forcing Sam to his knees as his Dad’s hand tightened in his hair. Sam opened his eyes and looked up at his father. John’s cock was red and thick, bobbing before Sam’s face and that’s all Sam could see. It filled his whole world and he obediently opened his mouth as John pressed forward.

He wrapped his lips around his father’s length, bitter precum and the musky taste of his own body heavy on his tongue. Sam looked up into John’s eyes. He wanted to see something there more than lust, wanted desperately to see what he saw in Dean’s eyes when his brother looked at him and he had to close his eyes when he couldn’t find anything that made this ok.

John fucked his mouth like he did Sam’s ass, hard and rough and Sam had to relax his throat to keep from choking. He was shamefully hard again and he reached down between his legs to jerk himself off as John grunted and thrust against him. Sam came when the first thick ropes of his Dad’s come hit the back of his throat and he swallowed around John as his own orgasm sizzled through him.

Panting John slid his softening cock from between Sam’s lips, reaching down to pull Sam up into his arms. Rough hands now soft, petting down his spine and smoothing the back of his hair.

“Love you, Sam. Such a good boy. Love you so much, son.”

Sam bit his bottom lip until he tasted blood and clung to his father. He felt like crying. He felt like screaming.

“Why don’t you go get cleaned up.”

John placed a soft kiss to the top of Sam’s head and Sam nodded. Shaking he pulled up the ruined panties, wincing as they slid over his sensitive bottom and made his way carefully to the bathroom. Locking himself inside Sam made sure not to meet his reflection in the mirror as he stripped out of the panties and stuffed them deep into the waste basket.

Mississippi (2/2 NC17 John/Dean)

2009-01-13T20:20:54Z

Title: Mississippi 2/2 (Part 1)
Author: ianthe_aveira
Pairings/Characters: John/Dean/Sam
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 1,703
Spoilers: None pre-series
Warnings: wincest (daddycest), slash, smut smut smut, dubious non-con, pwp, underage, language, unbeta'd so horrible grammar and stuff
Disclaimer: My stories may be disturbing to some readers. Please read my journal disclaimer and all warnings. As always I own nothing :( it makes me sad. Everything belongs to Kripke, lucky bastard.

Notes: This is the sequel that everyone wanted :D Just dirtybadwrong smut! Sick sick people! :D Feedback makes me happy :) The rest of my fics can be found here and at my fic comm eroticdiscord

John kept his hand between Dean’s legs all the way to the hotel. He stroked worn denim and the hard outline of his son until the boy was whimpering and thrusting up into John’s firm fingers.

“Not yet, Dean.”

John grinned, his eyes sliding hungrily over Dean’s sweat slick throat. The boy was panting with his head thrown back and John’s dick was twitching again already.

“Sssh, now. Daddy gots ya. Just relax.”

Dean understood it for the order that it was and bit his bottom lip trying to pull back from the brink of orgasm. John licked his lips and flicked his eyes back to the road. He could see the neon up ahead; a beacon of home and his foot grew heavier on the pedal.

“Dad”

Dean began and John cast a warning glance at his oldest and ran his thumb heavy over the pre-cum wet spot at the front of Dean’s jeans. Dean made a soft throaty noise and jerked his hips back away from John’s hand. Dean was close and John pulled back and wrapped his hand around the steering wheel as he pulled into the Hotel.

John got a room quickly making sure it was away from the office and other guests. Sammy could get loud sometimes and they needed their privacy.

He parked in front of their room and tossed the Impala’s keys to Dean.

“Get the bags and I’ll get Sam.”

Dean nodded and John gathered up his youngest. Long limbs and sleep heavy, Sam wrapped his legs around John’s middle and tucked his head against his father’s neck. John petted down the boy’s back soothingly, easing him back into slumber as he kicked the Chevy’s door shut and carried Sam to the room.

Sam radiated heat, sweat dampening his too long hair and making it curl in the back. Almost too big to carry, soft and warm and John ran his hand up underneath Sam’s t-shirt and along the boy’s spine. Sam huffed hotly against his neck and snuggled closer. John let Dean open the door and laid Sam in the center of the single queen. They’d only need one bed tonight and it was cheaper than two.

Dean locked up and salted the entrances as John undressed down to his boxers and pulled a chair up from the desk to the foot of the bed. Dean finished his tasks quickly and John sat back in his chair as he watched Dean climb up on the bed next to his brother.

Sam stirred as Dean lay on top of him and began kissing and sucking at his throat. It only took a few moments before the younger boy was fully awake and wrapping his arms around Dean’s shoulders, pulling him down closer as they devoured each other’s mouths.

John could watch his boys make out all night; hands rucking up t-shirts to paw at too hot skin, lips and teeth and the quick flashes of pink tongues. It was a sight that could damn even the most pious, beautiful and sinful. Reaching down John slowly started rubbing at his cock, it throbbed painfully under his fingers and he had to draw his hand away. Had to make this last.

Dean peeled himself away from Sam, clothing shucked off and discarded on the dirty hotel carpet. John slid his hand into his boxers, fingers wrapping around his shaft tightly as his eyes swept over flushed skin and straining muscles. Dean descended back on top of his brother, mouth dipping to drag his tongue over Sam’s chest. John groaned softly, pulling his cock out of his boxers and tucking the elastic under his balls. His boys, his beautiful boys entwined and writhing together and he had to force himself to stay in his chair. He wanted to watch for now, there would be time for touching soon enough.

Bits of filth floated in the still hotel air, words Dean bit into Sam’s skin until the younger boy was whimpering and wrapping a leg around his older brother as they ground their hips into one another. John stroked himself roughly until precum drizzled down over his fingers, he could see Sam’s small hand snake it’s way down between their bodies to fondle Dean’s balls and Jesus he had enough.

Squeezing the base of his cock hard to stop the crash of his orgasm John stood up and pushed his boxers the rest of the way off. The boys seemed unaware of his movements, so twisted around each other and lost that John had to smile. He had no regrets in what they had all become.

Crossing to the duffles that Dean had dropped by the door he pulled out a tube of Jo H2O and flipped the cap. Returning to his sons John climbed up on the bed, settling between his boys legs and squeezed some of the lube into his palm. Reaching out with his other hand he grabbed the back of Dean’s neck roughly and pulled the boy off Sam and back against his chest. Dean grunted and flicked an annoyed glare over his shoulder and John laughed.

“Sssh now.”

John petted down Dean’s chest, fingers padding calloused over nipples.

“You wanna fuck him, Dean? Look at him.”

John commanded, nuzzling the side of Dean’s face until the boy obeyed and looked down at his brother. Sam lay panting on the bed; flushed with pupils blown and lips puffy, his legs spread loose and wide and his cock hard and obscene against his belly.

“Such a little slut for you, baby. He wants it so bad, don’t you Sammy?” Sam caught his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes wide as he nodded in agreement too far gone to speak.

“Please.”

Dean groaned, reaching out to drag his fingers over Sam’s thighs. John grinned against Dean’s throat. So damn needy, always eager to beg and obey. He could feel the tremors wracking through his oldest son and he pushed his hips forward to let the head of his cock nudge against Dean’s balls.

Wrapping lubed fingers around Dean’s dick he slowly slicked his son until Dean was thrusting forward into his grip and making the most beautiful noises that John had ever heard. He rocked forward against Dean, wanting to sink into tight heat and lose himself there. Sam whimpered watching them, feeling left out he started to pout and wiggle on the bed spread.

“Daddy, please. I… please.”

Sam’s voice cracked and John had to bat his hands away from Dean’s cock as the boy reached desperately for his brother. Pushing Dean forward until he was braced over Sam John released Dean’s cock and roughly pushed a slick finger into Sam’s body. The boy gasped as John breeched him, arching up to wrap his arms around Dean’s neck and bury his head against sweaty skin. Dean grabbed Sam’s knee and pulled the boy’s leg up around his waist, spreading and making room for John’s large hands to work. Sam was tight, always so tight no matter how often he was fucked and John wasted no time pushing a second digit into his son’s trembling body.

He fingered open Sammy roughly as Dean rutted against his brother’s hip, both boys groaning and ready. John pulled his fingers out of Sam’s stretched hole and grabbed a hold of Dean’s cock again, guiding the leaking head to Sam he kept pushing until Dean was fully sheathed and both boys were shaking. John wrapped his hand around Dean’s hip; steadying him until Sam adjusted then slowly guiding Dean back until he was almost free and then he let go. It was permission, both boys trained to exactly what Daddy wanted.

Wrapping his slick hand around his cock John sat back on his knees to watch as Dean’s hips snapped forward. Sam practically arching off the bed as Dean fucked into him, clawing at his brother’s back and John was again glad they were away from the rest of the guests as Sam writhed with deep throaty whines and loud exclamations of pleasure.

They were beautiful, joined together and sweating and John reached out to drag his free hand over the curve of Dean’s spine. Dean was close, he could tell by the stuttering of the boy’s hips and the way that his breath hitched.

Pressing up close behind his oldest John pushed Dean’s legs wide, eyes drifting over the most forbidden of places and forgoing any prep John pushed his way brutally inside. Dean stilled as his father sunk deep, pain broadcasting through his body as John bent over him. Bracing himself with a hand to the back of his Dean’s neck John held Dean unmoving, crushing him down into Sam.

“So Goddamn tight, Dean.” John hissed threw clenched teeth.

“Such whore for Daddy’s cock aren’t you?”

Dean grunted his discomfort and Sam giggled under him. The sound made John’s balls tighten and what was left of his restraint was shredded. He fucked into his son in fast brutal thrusts, driving Dean forward into Sam until there was no sanity left in any of them.

Dean was the first to come, body shaking as he called out his brother’s name. Muscles constricting around John’s cock as Dean filled Sam, grunting John angled not for his son’s pleasure anymore but for depth. Sam’s moans grew in tempo until suddenly they stopped all together and he knew that Sam was emptying against Dean’s quivering stomach. That was all it took, John gave one last hard snap and his orgasm crashed over him in a white blazing tide.

The world came back slowly, the rapid thud of his heart and Dean complaining about how heavy John was. Laughing softly he pulled out of his son and collapsed back onto the bed. Closing his eyes he listened to his sons whispering and Sam’s giggling and he had to smile when twin bodies of heat curled up against his sides and snuggled close. He petted their sweat damp backs until they both drifted off into sleep. John pressed his lips to the top of each of their heads, breathing deeply the scent of sex and youth. Smiling he closed his eyes and surrendered to dreamless sleep.

Mississippi (1/2 NC17 John/Dean)

2009-01-13T20:20:53Z

Title: Mississippi 1/2
Author: ianthe_aveira
Pairings/Characters: John/Dean mentions of John/Sam and Dean/Sam
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 1,339
Spoilers: None pre-series
Warnings: wincest (daddycest), slash, smut smut smut, dubious non-con, pwp, underage, language, unbeta'd so horrible grammar and stuff
Disclaimer: My stories may be disturbing to some readers. Please read my journal disclaimer and all warnings. As always I own nothing :( it makes me sad. Everything belongs to Kripke, lucky bastard.

Notes: This is just smut, dirtybadwrong smut! I haven't porned in awhile and I'm not sure if this is crappy smut or not. lol Im sure it probably is, but you girls like smut! crappy or not :P Feedback makes me happy :) The rest of my fics can be found here and at my fic comm eroticdiscord

His life had become endless asphalt, dark roads scarring the land. Vengeance behind the wheel of a Chevy and sometimes he had no regrets. Sometimes it was like there was never anything more.

Mississippi was hot. Heavy air too humid to breathe even at three in the morning, even with the hint of sea in the air. John hated the south. Hated the history and the spirits, the evil that just seemed to ooze up out of the land making every stop a hunt, every newspaper obituary something to scrutinize.

The steady rumble of the car was hypnotic, the sounds of home. He’d blink and it’d be a half hour later, thirty more minutes and the A side of Metamorphosis played low on loop made it almost seem as if no time had passed at all. John glanced over to the passenger side of the Impala; Dean sat slouched in his seat starring out the window into the darkness passing by. The boy looked miserable. Shirt clinging with sweat, dark circles under his eyes that John could even see in the pale reflection of the window.

Dean wouldn’t sleep, wouldn’t leave John awake and alone with his thoughts no matter how much John complained. He’d just drink his convenience store caffeine and keep himself awake until Sam woke in the morning. Then the boys would trade places, taking turns keeping an eye on John that he didn’t nod off, keeping him alert enough not to pitch the car into a ditch or wrap it around a phone pole until John finally relented and pulled over for a nap or found a cheap hotel. He had never fallen asleep at the wheel before, he wasn’t sure where their fear came from.

John flicked his eyes from Dean up to the rear-view mirror. Sam lay curled on his side in the back, knees up to his chest and face pressed into worn soft leather. He’d been asleep since Tallahassee seeking unconsciousness against the heat. John let his eyes slide over the sleeping boy. The back of Sam’s t-shirt had ridden up to reveal a tanned strip of sweaty skin and John licked his lips. He knew what Sam tasted like, had mapped every inch of his body with his tongue and lips and he could almost taste his youngest now. Salt and soap, the hint of leather and road dust and John’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel as he lost himself in the memory.

“Dad?”

Dean’s voice snapped him back, looking from the mirror to the road John corrected the Chevy’s path before looking back over to his son. Dean smirked quirking an eyebrow and sunk lower in his seat. He knew exactly what had been on John’s mind.

“Come here.”

John reached out to Dean, hand on the back of the boy’s neck. Sweat damp hair spiky against his fingers, moist hot skin that he wanted to taste. Dean frowned, casting an annoyed look at John and shook his head.

“Dad it’s too hot.”

John turned his eyes back to the road and his fingers tightened on the back of Dean’s neck. The boy let out a low huff of air and he could feel Dean tense and try to pull closer to the door and out of his grasp.

“Dean”

John’s voice was low, a warning and a command and he dug his fingers bruisingly into soft hot skin and pulled. Dean resisted for only a moment longer before letting himself be pulled down across the seat. John could feel quick hot breaths against his stomach through his thin cotton tee and Dean shivered underneath his hand. Petting softly at his son’s hair, encouraging and soothing and John’s cock was aching in anticipation of having Dean’s perfect little mouth wrapped around him.

Too hot fingers slipped up under John’s t-shirt, sweaty pads caressing at the coarse hair under his navel and he hissed sharply when he felt Dean’s lips ghost over the ridge of his belly-button.

“Jesus, Dean.”

John groaned, settling back in his seat with one hand on the steering wheel and the other carding through damp hair. Dean whimpered softly, tongue flicking out to taste salty skin and lingering above worn denim and he made quick work with John’s button and zipper.

John shifted his hips, his hand steady against the back of Dean’s skull as he pulled his son towards his straining cock. He pressed the leaking head against Dean’s lips but the boy kept his mouth tightly sealed instead letting the tip skim across his lips and cheek leaving a wet trail of sticky precum. Dean could be a tease.

“Come on, open that pretty mouth.”

John hissed and looked down to see Dean smiling up at him. The boy’s grin widened as they made eye contact; brilliant green in the weak glow of the Chevy’s panel and Dean knew exactly how he looked, exactly how to drive John insane. Dean slowly licked his lips clean, making a show of it and John was tempted to pull the car over and teach Dean some respect.

“Now, Dean or I’ll wake Sammy and you can sit and watch me fuck his sweet little mouth.”

John looked up from Dean to the rearview mirror. Sam curled up and still sleeping soundly. His sweet boys.

John knew exactly which buttons to push with Dean, the boy didn’t like to share unless John made him and the idea of having to watch while it was Sam and not Dean sucking daddy off drove the cocktease right out of him.

Dean opened his mouth and sucked John’s leaking head inside, tongue swiping and curling as he probed at the slit before sliding his father deeper inside. It was an explosion of pleasure, tight wet heat gliding down his aching shaft. John grunted, his eyes briefly closing before locking on the dark road in front of him.

“Just like that, baby.”

John panted, blunt nails digging into the back of Dean’s neck as he guided his oldest to take more. Dean was an excellent cock sucker, John had trained him well and he knew every trick to get John off as quickly as possible. Lush lips traveling over hard pulsing flesh, spit slick glide that had John thrusting until he felt Dean’s throat open and take all of him. Dean’s fingers soft and skillful rolling John’s balls, tugging lightly as his other hand slid up to flick a nail across his father’s nipple. John bucked, driving himself hard down Dean’s throat and Dean gagged around him.

It was too much, driving John over the edge. He fucked Dean’s throat as he emptied himself; riding the intense waves of pleasure that burnt its way up his body and exploded into fireflies across his vision. He felt Dean swallowing around him, tight pulls milking the cum from him until he was shaking and drained. The Impala swerved briefly onto the graveled shoulder and John had to right the car before pulling Dean up and off his oversensitive cock.

Dean nipped sharply at John’s quivering stomach before sitting up and wiping his mouth. Shiny red swollen lips tilting in a smirk as Dean settled back against the passenger door, one knee pressed against the back of the seat and the other splayed wide against the dash. John watched as Dean palmed his hard cock through his jeans, head tilting back against the door frame to expose the long line of his throat.

John laughed deep and low and reached out to grab Dean’s wrist. Stilling his son’s hand and Dean almost pouted as he looked at John questioningly. John motioned to the backseat with a tilt of his head.

“Gonna keep you hard and begging until we find a hotel then your gonna fuck Sammy slow and hard while I watch.”

Dean groaned, his hips hitching up at the image John painted for him and John smiled and flipped the turn signal for the oncoming exit. Maybe the south wasn’t so bad after all.

Part 2

Defiled

2008-04-17T15:34:31Z

Title: Defiled
Author: ianthe_aveira Siset
Pairings/Characters: Chad Lindberg/Gabriel Tigerman
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 3717
Spoilers: None
Warnings: RPS, slash, smut, porny, pwp, language
Disclaimer: This is my first RPS fic. I read through all the wonderful Eyecon reports and I just had to write this. A little facts in the fiction but it's 99.8% made up in my sick head. That's right. Never happened. I don't own or claim anything and I'm sure Mr. Lindberg and Mr. Tigerman are only good friends :) No disrespect meant for I love these two immensely! My stories may be disturbing to some readers. Please read my journal disclaimer and all warnings.
Summery: Just porny Florida Eyecon smut. :)
Notes: Beta by the most awesome aelfsiden who is my porny enabler *hugs* Mistakes are mine alone. Feedback makes me happy :) The rest of my fics can be found here

Gabriel wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing. It was just after four a.m. and he was drunk. The day had been long and exciting, all the fans and everything going on and he was overwhelmed at first but it hadn’t taken long to settle down and enjoy it all. He had gotten more than a little buzzed at the cocktail party, but it had worn off quickly when he had joined some fans in the game room and gotten his ass kicked at Tekken. He still couldn’t believe that, but it had been fun and the fans had been great. Chad had hung out with them, snarking jokes and goofing off, obviously having more than a few drinks himself. When everyone had decided to retire for the night, Chad offered his mini-bar and asked Gabe to hang out. He’d agreed before he could talk himself out of it.

He liked Chad; he was funny and quirky and had so much energy that sometimes it looked like he was going to explode with it all. Gabe really enjoyed hanging out with the other man. He was tired and knew he should head to bed, tomorrow was a big day and he had to be up early, but Chad was smiling and that made Gabriel smile and really he had no idea why that made his stomach flip.

“You look like you’re going to bolt, man.”

Gabriel blinked, blurring the world back into focus and looked at Chad. The older man lay on the other bed; half empty beer bottle nestled between his legs, one hand tucked under his head and the other splayed on his stomach. Gabriel couldn’t help but notice that Chad had nice hands; couldn’t help staring at those long thin fingers and . . .

Slowly those fingers curled until Chad was flipping him off and Gabriel blinked, knowing he’d been caught staring. Chad’s laugher was loud and drunkenly amused.

Gabriel quickly looked up to the mounted TV, sound low as some lesbian soft-core porn played out on Cinemax and oh god, he was blushing. He could feel the heat rising up his chest and neck and he looked down at the beer in his hands. Gabriel could feel Chad watching him and yeah, maybe he was getting ready to bolt.

“You were checking out my junk?” Chad asked after a few minutes.

“What?” Gabriel was horrified. “Oh, God, no. What? No way, man. I –”

Chad let loose with another squeal of laughter and Gabriel squirmed. He was sitting on the other bed, only a few feet from where Chad lay, and wow, that was close and it was getting really hot and maybe he was done drinking because it felt like he was burning up and Chad thought he was checking him out.

“Just jerking around, man. It’s cool.”

Gabriel didn’t feel cool. He felt uncomfortable. He tore his eyes off his beer bottle and looked at Chad. He was grinning ear to ear and Gabe couldn’t help it, he grinned too. It was infectious and before he knew it they were both laughing. He wasn’t sure exactly why they were laughing but it was nice and it drowned out the soft moans from the TV and he started to feel more comfortable.

Chad reached down and took his beer, draining the last of it and belching low before setting the bottle into the small pile of empties on the floor between the two beds.

“Tomorrow’s a big day, you nervous?”

Gabriel laughed, hell he was nervous now, even after a few beers. Okay, more than a few, but he wasn’t really counting. It seemed that ever since the plane landed his stomach had been in his throat and everything was just happening really fast. He’d never realized that Andy had so many fans out there.

“Don’t be nervous,” Chad said.

Gabriel nodded with a smile and took a long pull off his beer.

Chad continued, “I can think of a few ways to get your mind off it all.”

Gabriel choked on his mouthful of beer, swallowing before he could make a fool of himself, and looked at the other man. Did that mean what he thought it meant? Because it sure sounded like what he thought it meant. Chad looked amused and he waggled his eyebrows. Okay, so it was what he thought.

“I’m straight.” It was the first thing that popped into his head. Way to play it cool, he cursed himself. Chad looked at him for a few long moments before cracking out into a huge grin.

“Hell, so am I, dude. It’s all good.”

That wasn’t what Gabriel expected so he opened his mouth and before he could stop himself he blurted, “I’m engaged. To a girl. A woman. I mean, I’m engaged to a woman.”

This made Chad laugh and Gabriel felt himself blushing a hundred shades of red. This was getting weird because, well did Chad just proposition him? And was he actually staring again? Gabriel quickly averted his eyes again and shit, yeah he had been staring.

What was his problem?

“What happens at Eyecon stays at Eyecon,” Chad smirked and Gabe noticed that the other man’s fingers had started up a small petting motion on his stomach and shit, was he actually contemplating what it would feel like to have those long fingers petting over his own stomach?

Chad was staring at him, blue eyes glimmering mischievously and Gabriel realized that Chad was waiting for him to say something. Okay, so he liked Chad. But he was engaged, but he was drunk. No, that wasn’t an excuse. Oh, Jesus, was he actually weighing the pros and cons of . . . what? Sex? Did Chad want sex? Because really Gabriel didn’t think he could, you know that but . . .

“You wanna make out with me?” It was really more of a stunned observation than a question but Chad smiled and shrugged.

“Sure,” he said.

Gabe watched as Chad slid over on the bed to make room for him. He could only sit there, his mind filled with: We’re going to make out? We’re going to make out. Chad patted the bed beside him with amusement and then settled back down. Licking his lips, Gabriel set his beer on the nightstand and stood. He could leave, tell Chad he was tired and needed sleep and then tomorrow pretend that none of this happened. Easy. Just chalk it up to them both being drunk and not think about it ever again. Instead he realized his body was betraying him and the next thing he knew he was sitting on the bed. Gabe folded his hands in his lap, stiff-shouldered, facing away from Chad and wondering just what the hell he was doing.

He felt the bed shift behind him, a heavy warm hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, man. If you’re not cool with this –”

“No. No, I’m cool,” Gabriel said, relaxing his shoulders and taking a deep breath. He turned so that he was facing the other man. Chad took his hand away from Gabe’s shoulder and slid his fingers up the side of his neck to trace along his jaw line, making Gabriel shiver.

It was weird having a guy touch him like this, it made tiny little fires ignite underneath his skin and okay, it wasn’t too bad. Chad grinned as he saw Gabe relax, seeming to take it as a cue and pressing his fingers lightly under Gabe’s chin, tilting his head as he leaned forward. Gabriel’s eyes grew wide as he watched Chad moving in alcohol-induced slow motion and he only had time to think ’Jesus, Chad is kissing me’ and then he was.

It was different from any other kiss Gabe had experienced in his life. Chad’s lips were soft but firm, the hint of stubble against his skin and the taste of beer on his tongue. It took a few seconds for Gabe’s brain to make sense of these new sensations and then he was kissing Chad back. It was slow and exploratory, not so fast that Gabriel would freak and really he wasn’t sure he actually would. It wasn’t so bad, it was even sorta good.

Chad wrapped his hand around the nape of Gabriel’s neck, angling the kiss deeper as he pulled Gabe closer. His body hummed at each contact point, warmth and heat and he brought his hands up to cup the sides of Chad’s face.

Chad grinned into the kiss, his eyes opening and catching Gabriel’s, pupils blown and rimmed with blue and Gabe felt his cock twitch in his jeans. He’d never been hard for another guy before, but this was Chad and it was intense. He couldn’t help the soft groan of disappointment as Chad pulled back, breaking the kiss and biting at Gabe’s bottom lip.

“Yeah?” Chad asked, panting and licking at his lips like he could still taste Gabriel. Gabe blinked up from watching the sweep of Chad’s tongue and nodded.

“Yeah,” He answered, wondering what it meant that he really was more okay with this then he thought he’d be. Chad nodded and winked at him before coming back close for another kiss. They kissed until they were breathless, lips swollen and cheeks flushed. Gabe ran his hand up into Chad’s messy hair, fisting his fingers in the short strands. This is so fucked, he thought as Chad sucked at his jaw, teeth scraping and he pushed Gabriel down to the mattress.

He hovered above Gabe, knees on either side of Gabriel’s thighs like he was unsure about how far he should take this. Gabe wasn’t sure either. He was either way too drunk or not drunk enough but he reached up and pulled Chad down by the back of his neck into another deep kiss. Chad moaned into his mouth, draping his long body on top of Gabe’s and Gabe was well aware of the hard line of heat against his hip. He was just as hard and couldn’t help pushing himself against Chad’s thigh when he pressed a leg between Gabriel’s.

They kissed for what felt like hours, hands roaming and shucking up shirts, nails raking over heated skin as their hips jerked against each other in a not-enough-friction rhythm that left them both gasping. Chad almost had him there, petting his lower stomach like he wanted to jerk him off while he sucked on Gabe’s tongue and bit at his lips. It was maddening. It almost felt as if Chad knew exactly what he was doing and was enjoying it. He’d arch and purr against Gabe’s lips, easing back until they both got their breath back before starting it all over again.

Cock tease, Gabe thought, and that sort of made his insides clench. Was this going that far? Did he want it to go that far?

“Take these off?” Chad asked curling his fingers in the front of Gabriel’s t-shirts. Okay, so that was a whole new level. Gabe was comfortable rubbing off against Chad but . . . skin. His skin and my skin.

Gabriel nodded, reaching down and pulling his tees over his head. Chad laughed and took the cue, shucking his shirt as well. Chad was thin, ripcord muscle over a tall, lean frame and Gabe could feel himself blushing again. He didn’t want to stare but he couldn’t help it, he wanted to touch and feel and, Jesus, he wanted to taste.

Chad pulled back to sit on Gabriel’s waist and it was everything Gabe could do not to thrust his hips forward. Chad grinned as he stared down at him, reaching out he pulled his fingers over Gabe’s chest and thumbed his nipples until they were hard and sensitive. Gabriel bit his bottom lip, his eyes slipping closed as pleasure warmed over him and he reached up to slide his hands up Chad’s ribs.

“Damn, Gabe. You should see yourself, man because you’re so fucking hot,” Chad’s voice was blown heavy and low and the sound went straight to Gabriel’s dick. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen but he knew he wanted Chad to get him off. Gabe pressed his hips forward, grinding himself up against Chad’s ass.

“You talk a lot, man.” And really he just needed Chad to kiss him again, kiss him or do something else with that mouth because Gabe was going crazy. Chad grinned down at him, nodded and lowered himself down to take one of Gabriel’s nipples into his mouth. Every swipe of Chad’s tongue pulled groans and bitten-off moans from Gabe, he was so far past caring now that everything was just pleasure and wet and heat. He slid his hands up into Chad’s hair, curling his fingers in the messy spikes as Chad licked down the center of his chest to his navel. Sharp edge of Chad’s teeth, his lips sucking at the sensitive skin just above his waist band and holy shit . . . Gabe saw stars behind his eyelids when Chad mouthed him through the denim of his jeans.

“Please,” Gabe said. It was too much, he wanted, no he needed to feel Chad’s mouth on him, wanted to feel the heat and wetness and yeah, he wasn’t too proud to beg for it. Chad laughed, hot puffs of air across Gabriel’s stomach as he unbuttoned Gabe’s pants.

“Up,” Chad commanded, yanking on his belt loops and Gabe was all too happy to comply, lifting his hips off the mattress as Chad peeled his jeans and boxers down to his knees. He was hard, achingly hard and the cool air of the motel room made him shiver when it caressed over his flushed skin. Chad sat back on his denim-bound knees, eyes traveling over Gabriel appreciatively as he ran his hands up the inside of Gabe’s thighs.

He was sure by the look on Chad’s face that the other man would be content just to sit there all night and look at him but Gabriel was done with waiting. He’d crossed a line, something he’d have to think about eventually, but not right now. He’d already gone this far, why not go farther?

“Chad,” Gabriel was breathless and impatient and before he could plead anymore Chad was leaning down and dragging his tongue in a long wet strip up Gabe’s cock. Gabriel groaned; back arching as the first touch of Chad’s hot tongue almost short-circuited his already sloshed brain.

“Shit,” he gasped and Chad’s fingers wrapped around his hips to steady Gabe as he lapped at the leaking head. It felt amazing and Gabriel reached down and cupped the back of Chad’s head encouragingly. Chad wasted no time, just opened his lips and took Gabriel into his mouth and deep inside. Wet heat exploded around Gabe, making his hips hitch as he moaned in pleasure. He was torn between wanting to come down Chad’s throat and making this last as long as possible. Chad’s fingers tightened on Gabriel’s hips as he held him down, long slow slides up and down Gabe’s cock and Chad did this amazing thing were he swirled his tongue around the head each time before swallowing him back down and it was driving Gabe insane.

With a final flick of his tongue, Chad pulled back, much to Gabriel’s disappointment and Gabe opened his eyes. Damn if Chad didn’t look hot with his lips spit-slick and swollen and Gabe wanted to kiss them, bite them until the other man was just as insane as Chad made him. Gabriel flicked his eyes questioningly between his twitching cock and his friend’s lust-blown eyes. He shifted his hips and Chad grinned impishly.

“You ever . . .” Chad asked, holding up two fingers together and wiggling them and for a second Gabe had no idea what the older man meant. Chad’s grin grew and realization dawned. He’d never, never even thought about it but, wow was he considering it? Could he let Chad? Ok, so it wasn’t like Chad was asking to stick his dick in his ass, but fingers that was sorta similar. A drunken blow job was one thing, fingers up his ass was something completely different.

“Dude, you think too much,” Chad laughed, dropping his hand as he saw the deep look of thought on Gabe’s face. “How about we try it and if you wanna stop just say, okay?”

Okay, so that sounded like something Gabriel could do. If he didn’t like it he’d just say so and that’d be that. And if he did like it, then hell he wasn’t sure what that meant – wasn’t sure he even cared. He nodded. Okay, he was feeling adventurous and if it meant that Chad’s mouth would be wrapped around his cock again then a finger or two would be worth it.

“Aright then,” Chad laughed, pulling Gabe’s jeans and boxers the rest of the way off his legs. It felt a little weird being completely naked while Chad still wore his pants and he settled up on an elbow as he reached out to grab a hold of Chad’s fly to remedy the problem. Gabriel’s fingers felt fat and numb and Chad was amused when he started fumbling at the button.

“Okay, you work on that, buddy,” Chad snickered as he stretched out over Gabe to get to the nightstand between the beds. Gabe closed his eyes and leaned up to suck and bite at Chad’s ribs as the other man fumbled around looking for something in the drawer. He finally managed to unbutton Chad’s jeans and slid the tips of his fingers between skin and boxers to caress the coarse hair above the other man’s cock. Chad made a soft moaning sound that turned into a triumphant humph as he pulled a small bottle of lube from the nightstand.

Chad pulled back and Gabe watched transfixed as the other man squeezed the lube onto his fingers, the smell of strawberries filled the room and Gabe couldn’t tear his eyes off the shiny slickness of Chad’s fingers. Gabriel was practically vibrating in anticipation, he was nervous because well, it’d probably hurt right? He wasn’t too knowledgeable about all this sorta stuff and even though Chad’s fingers were thin they were long and there would probably be some pain, but some other part of him was really damned turned on by the idea of having those slick fingers playing around inside him.

“Just relax,” Chad petted his stomach with his other hand as he settled back between Gabriel’s legs. “Much better if you don’t freak out,” he laughed and sucked at the sensitive skin of Gabe’s hip. Gabriel closed his eyes, tilting his head back and trying to do as Chad said, trying to relax. Chad caressed and licked at Gabe’s thighs until Gabriel shivered with a low groan and let them fall open, he felt exposed and vulnerable and he was sorta having second thoughts when he felt Chad’s warm breath puff over the head off his cock. Gabe made a low keening noise, which he totally blamed on the alcohol to keep from dying of embarrassment, and then Chad was taking him back inside his mouth. Lips stretching and tongue teasing as he slid a slick finger down behind Gabriel’s balls and over his tight hole.

Gabriel went rigid as he felt the first touch, it was so alien and he wasn’t sure if he could go through with it, but Chad angled his throat and swallowed and Gabe didn’t even feel the tip of Chad’s finger as he pushed it inside.

Chad sucked him hard and dirty and Gabe was so close that fireflies flickered behind his eyelids and that finger slipped and wiggled farther and farther inside. It was so far from anything he had ever felt before, no pain really, just odd and he wasn’t sure what the big deal was until Chad removed his finger and slowly pushed two inside angling them until they brushed against something that made Gabriel gasp and claw at the bedspread underneath him.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed, body tensing and holy shit that felt really good. He felt Chad grin around his cock and then he was pushing and fucking his fingers into that spot over and over while he swallowed Gabe deep. Gabriel’s orgasm ripped through him, snapping his spine and flooding him with intense pleasure. He didn’t even have time to warn Chad or pull away before he was emptying down the other man’s throat. Chad swallowed around him, fucking and sucking Gabe through his orgasm until Gabriel whimpered at the attention on oversensitive flesh.

Chad slid his fingers slowly out of Gabriel’s body as he released his spent cock, Gabe’s eyes fluttered open and he watched Chad lick his lips before moving up to straddle Gabriel’s thighs. He watched through hooded lids as Chad pulled his cock from his boxers, hand roughly stroking as he angled himself and came all over Gabe’s softening cock.

Ropes of hot, sticky come painted his skin, searing and god that was fucking hot. The sounds Chad made were unbelievable, breathless grunts and shuddering moans and Gabriel’s cock gave a weak but interested twitch as he watched his friend stroke himself through the last of his orgasm.

Exhausted Chad collapsed on top of him, their soft cocks trapped between their bellies, slick with Chad’s come as their lips found each other and they kissed until the need for oxygen became too great. Chad grinned down at Gabe before rolling off and settling back against the bed.

“Damn,” Gabriel whispered, not trusting his voice to speak louder. “You defiled me, man.”

Chad’s laugh was loud and infectious and they giggled until they were both too worn out to continue.

“You wanna hang out tomorrow?” Chad asked with a yawn.

Gabriel smiled, everything was cool between them and he really hoped he didn’t freak out too much later on. “Yeah,” he answered. But Chad was already asleep and snoring softly.

Gabe reluctantly stood and got dressed, he was glad he agreed to do this convention and there was still two full days left. Sneaking back to his room he made a mental note to buy some condoms.

By The Light Of The Moon (Chapter 4)

2008-04-04T00:42:54Z

Title: By The Light Of The Moon chapter 4 (1 & 2 & 3)
Author: ianthe_aveira
Pairings/Characters: John/Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17 for smut and perversion! >:P
Spoilers: Nope
Warnings: Smut ! Slash of course, AU, werewolf/human sex, angst, pain, incest, gore, possibly cheesy and cliche :)unbeta'ed tis time lol
Disclaimer: As always I own nothing :( it makes me sad.

Notes: Don't read if you're squeamish! Feedback makes me happy! Enjoy! Awesome plot bunnies by the amazing kinky realpestilence You rock! Any mistakes in this thing are mine and mine only.

He couldn't remember anything but leaning heavily against a spruce, skin freezing, breath pluming. He was naked and the world spun, drawing him towards something he didn't know. He pushed away from the tree, shuffling on numb feet and almost fell. There, up ahead. Through a break in the trees he saw it. A cabin. Smoke lazily curled up from the chimney into the breaking dawn and it was here the John was being called. It pulled him, the iron in his blood and the magnet this cabin. Here he would find refuge, here he would find Home?

He was worried for his boys, Dean, Sam. Where were they? He was confused, he felt things skitter just on the edge of remembrance. Something dark and vile, something maddening. Something he couldn’t grasp as his mind hazed and fluttered and he didn’t remember crossing the snow to the porch but he was climbing the stairs, half-buried with snow, he turned the knob and nearly fell into the cabin. The warm air inside hit him squarely and it made his skin tingle with pain. Pins and needles awaking his frozen flesh, the smell. Oh god The smell was like a slaughter house, rank with blood and the musky scent of wild animals. The dozen eyes that turned to study him seemed to burn straight into his soul and he staggered, almost falling back out into the snow.

The pack swarmed around him, hands pulling and guiding him inside. Shadows shifted, fire light made him disoriented and he thought he heard the mewling of babies somewhere close by. It was there, there beyond the thin fog of consciousness, it was there if only he was ready to grip it and bring it to the surface. It made his breath hitch, his blood whispering for him to give in, to understand.

"Who.."

"Hunter.."

"Kill him.."

"Blood tied.."

"Family.."

The voices floated past, not making sense to him; but the thrum through his veins that had pulled him to this place welcomed him. Family His sons. His family. He shook his head weakly and he felt their hands on him again. Mouths and skin and tongues and he was fucking into wet heat as someone else fucked into him. Rutting, claiming and his mind shifted to Dean as he came.

He wasn't sure how long passed, it was full of fractured reality, the coppery taste of blood and raw meat as they fed him, the nightmares that crashed through his fitful sleep and he wasn't sure what was real. Perhaps nothing was.

He awoke with his son's names on his lips and as he scrambled to his feet he felt an agonizing shift through the center of him. The room was long in shadow, night was falling and all around him was the sound of transforming flesh. He was weak, he couldn't fight it, he slipped into the beast almost glad for the numbness of thought it offered.

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Dean lay on his side on the floor, his knees slightly bent, almost as if he wanted to slip into the fetal position but pain wouldn’t allow it. He was exhausted, the ache inside him hummed with heat. Sam lay behind him and his father in front of him but neither touched him now. Neither said anything as they had their own thoughts to haunt them.

He had been hurt worse before, been shot and stabbed and hit by car. He had been throttled by spirits, electrocuted and beaten with an aluminium bat once when a couple hicks from Oklahoma didn’t “take kindly to his sort”. His body could take it, he was trained to take it, hell he even thrived on the rawness of it at times, but this pain that paralyzed him now was nothing physical that could be bandaged and healed away into scars.

He groaned softly and only the thought of what nightfall would bring made him move. He climbed slowly up to his hands and knees, his head hanging as he swallowed back bile and despair. He felt Sam’s hand on his forearm and he opened his eyes to look over at his brother. Worry and regret, sadness and love. So much damn love and Dean had to look away before it broke him. He could slip into Sam’s arms and stay there forever and that was dangerous. Dangerous to everyone he cared for.

“I’m going to take a shower. Don’t kill each other.” His words held no lightness, he wasn’t joking. He didn’t want to leave the two of them alone together, but he had to shower. He had to clear his head. He climbed unsteadily to his feet and after pausing, swaying a little he made his way to the bathroom.

As soon as the door was closed and locked behind him he barely made it to the toilet before he retched. He couldn’t stop, he emptied his stomach and his body was drawn up tight until there was nothing left, even then he dry heaved until his ribs hurt and his eyes were bloodshot. He flushed and stepped weakly into the shower, turning the knobs until steaming water burned his skin and he washed away the cum and blood.

He didn’t cry. He was afraid that if he gave into tears there would be no stopping it, he’d be huddled in the shower as it ran icy sobbing like a child. And, well…That wouldn’t do anyone any good.

Dean soaped himself for the third time as his mind ticked off everything he knew, or thought he knew about werewolves. Was Sam right? Was there nothing they could do? Killing the sire didn’t work, done that and nothing had happened. Silver would kill them, he knew, but he couldn’t… he wouldn’t kill his brother and father.

“I like what I’ve become, Dean. For the first time in a long time I feel in control again.” His Dad’s words remembered, heard really for the first time. In the kitchen Dean was too frantic to fix the situation and now he finally was able to digest what was said. John didn’t want to be cured. He didn’t want to go back to the man he was. No, he does. He doesn’t know what he’s saying, he doesn’t know what he wants. Dean knew he was lying to himself, John knew exactly what he was saying. Was it true for Sam too? Was his brother more happy being a creature than being… Sammy? Was Dean trying to fix what didn’t want to be fixed? If so then… He thought of the empty guns, the hunter part of himself putting thoughts through his mind that scared him and he shook his head hard, slamming his palm hard against the wet tile on the wall. NO. Fuck, no! He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Dean leaned forward to rest his forehead against the tile by his hand. He bit his bottom lip hard until his eyes stopped burning. There would be a way, of course they wanted to be cured. Right? Bobby would know, Bobby would help.

“Dean?” A soft knock on the bathroom door, Sam’s voice low and worried and Dean pulled back from the tile and ran his wet hands over his face.

“Yah, I’m fine. I’ll be right out.” If Sam said anything more Dean didn’t hear him, he stuck his head under the stream of water and let it fill his world for a few minutes. He swallowed it all, pushed it back and buried it and when he finally turned off the water the ache inside him was gone. He felt numb and empty and that was better.

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Dean was relieved that both men still breathed when he exited the bathroom. With only a towel low around his waist both Sam and John were starring at him, their eyes traveling over him in hunger. Dean had to practically shove John into the bathroom, knocking away his hands as they reached and touched and he whispered “Later” as he pulled the door shut on his father.

Sam followed him into the bedroom and Dean felt his eyes heavy as he dressed. Pulling on his boots he finally looked up at his brother and quirked a brow in question.

“I feel it inside, Dean.” Sam began, licking his lips until they shined slick and Dean couldn’t look away. “It’s like..” A blush burned across Sam’s face and reddened the tips of his ears. “It’s like I want to fuck you all the time, like I can’t get enough of you. You’re so…I love you.” Dean cocked his head to the side, it was weird hearing it. Hearing those words from his brother.

“I love you too, Sam.” It was the only thing he could say and he meant it more than he had meant anything before. Sam’s smile made Dean smile and it was easy enough to slip back into “brotherhood”, too easy to speak of everything but the truth.

Sam was next in the shower, he was reluctant to go and leave Dean with John but only after Dean assured him a dozen times that he would be fine did he disappear into the bathroom.

There was no way they could fall back into father and son, no way things would ever be the same between them. Dean loved his father, would still do anything for him. Hell he had proved that in the last 48 hours, but this man he couldn’t think of as Dad. This was John. It was easier to fuck John then it was to fuck Dad.

As soon as the bathroom door was shut and locked John pushed Dean up against the bedroom wall and sucked bruises into his neck, hands roaming and pawing and needing. Dean was revolted, he was. I am. but he moaned hotly into his dad’s mouth and humped into his hand as John palmed him through his jeans. He wanted to cum, his back arching and his breath hitching. A shiver of disgust and pleasure pulsed through him, calloused fingers wrapping around his shaft and pulling, stroking, twisting, but he pushed John away when he heard the water turn off in the bathroom and John laughed and shook his head but his eyes burned with dangerous lust that left Dean trembling as he buttoned up his jeans.

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Dean stood in front of the refrigerator, staring into the freezer. Behind the frozen peas and a package of hamburger was the missing ammunition. They sat frosted with the cold and Dean looked over to his father. John shrugged. He hadn't explained why he had hidden them there, none of them voiced it but Dean knew John had been afraid his oldest would use the silver to finish the hunt. Dean reached out and plucked a bullet from the clear protective box, he felt as if his fingertips might freeze to the metal, the cold traveled up his hand and rang through his skin and he frowned.

"You're sure you know where this den is?" Dean asked. After their showers the story his father had grimly woven for Dean and Sam had been horrific. John told of the other Lycanthropes and the days shared with them, he had been graphic and he insisted that they must be destroyed.

"I know. I can feel it." John nodded and looked over at Sam. "And Sam can feel it as well." Sam threw an angry look at their father before stepping close to Dean, reaching out and taking the bullet from him. His brother's fingers lingering for a moment against his hand and unspoken words passed between them. Dean raised his eyes to his brother's and he could see the truth there. Sam felt it like their father, felt it exactly how John had described it. He wasn't sure why Sam could withstand the overwhelming pull that John had spoken of but he was relieved that his little brother had the power to do so.

Sam seemed to weigh the bullet in his hand for a moment before flipping open his revolver and shoving the bullet into the chamber. Dean quirked a brow, feeling a tug of a smile and turned to take out the rest of the bullets and shells.

"Let's do this then." He snapped open the Norico and fed it some shells, chuckling Dean shook his head. "I feel like Karen White. You know, but without the boobs and 80's hair." He shrugged as his brother and father stared at him stone faced. "What?"

"You feel like the screaming flailing tv journalist from the Howling?"

"I...Shut up, Sammy. She was hot."

Sam burst out laughing as John shook his head, turning to go get the other weapons so they could prepare for the hunt. It felt almost normal, almost the way it was before. Dean punched Sam in the shoulder after their father left the kitchen which only made Sam laugh harder.

"Har har har, Sam. Laugh it up, Imma kick your hairy werewolf ass."

Sam's laughter faded to a wide dimpled grin and he reached out and grabbed Dean around the middle, pulling him back against him. Dean drove his elbow into his brother's ribs and tried not to look too smug when Sam huffed in pain.

"You can be Karen if I can be Bill." Sam smiled as he pressed his lips to the side of Dean's throat.

"Kinky." Dean grinned as he pulled Sammy closer for a kiss.

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Weaponed up they left the house, bundled in their jackets and boots. The lycanthrope’s cabin was about five miles from there. Dean cast a sad look at his baby.

“Did you have to slash the tires?”

“You would have left.” John stated matter-of-factly and trudged off towards the tree line, ending the conversation with those four words.. Dean sighed, he was right. Dean would have left. He and Sammy would have been already at Bobby’s. John had stranded them here on this frozen mountain because he didn’t want to lose what was his. Pure and simple. Dean knew his father thought of him that way. Owned and marked. It made him cringe and he tightened his gloved hand around the shotgun he carried. Refusing to make eye contact with Sam he followed their father into the bush.

They walked in silence, only the sounds of the snow under their boots. It was like the forest was deserted, no birds, no animals, not even the sound of frozen wood creaking. It seemed endless and foreboding and Dean gave a silent sigh of relief when they stopped at the edge of the clearing. The small cabin sitting a hundred feet away. They still had a few hours before nightfall, more than enough time to do what needed to be done. If what John had said was truth then they were all inside. Sleeping and fucking and waiting for the moon.

Sam looked at him and he finally met his brother’s eyes. He offered a slight smile but Sam didn’t return it and Dean wondered if this felt as much like a slaughter to him as it did to Dean.

################################################################

The smell of blood hung heavily in the air and when Dean ran his tongue over his lips he could taste it. His ears still ringing, he pushed the thought away as he turned in a slow tight circle, staring at the carnage before him. It had all happened so quickly. This was a fucking massacre.

Blood splattered and pooled, bodies lay with gaping holes torn through them, it’s not what bothered him. He had seen bodies, he had seen blood he usually prided himself with how desensitized he could be but... it was the children… Oh fuck, the kids, the fucking babies. Slaughtered innocence. Dean felt as if he was going to be ill. He was shaking and gasping but drawing in nothing but air thick with gore which made his mind reel and his knees feel weak. He tried not to look, tried to keep himself from memorizing their small bullet- ravaged bodies, but he couldn't. He couldn't look away from the horror of it.
.

"Dean?" Dean jumped at the sound of his name and the arm slipping around his waist, he turned his head and blinked at his brother. Sam didn't look half as fazed as he should, as he would have been only a few days ago. Dean opened his mouth but no sound would come out so he closed it tightly and worked his jaw.

"You know it had to be this way, right?" His brother looked genuinely concerned, his voice low, the same sing-song soothing tone they took all too often to calm the traumatized people they dealt with. Dean wanted to hit him but instead he only nodded slowly. What was done was done, things were different now. Things were fucked.

The loud bark of his father's shotgun sliced through the stillness making Dean turn, he watched John standing over the corpse of a naked young woman, her golden hair now crimson fanned out around her ruined head, he pumped another shell into the gun and turned to examine the rest of the bodies nearby. This was brutal. This wasn't how they did things. This was….

"Dean, out back by the side of the house there are 10 gallon tins of kerosene, let's torch this place it’ll be night soon." His father's voice grated along his spine, he sounded calm and even and Dean was beginning to realize just how much his father and brother had really changed. It sickened him, it scared the hell out of him. The sound of another shotgun blast and Dean had to get out of there.

Standing outside, large flakes of snow just starting to fall around him, heavy and lazy and taking in long shuddering breathes he tilt his face towards the coming nightfall. The soft kiss of cold against his blood-streaked face felt good, and he wanted to be cleansed with it. The purity washing away this sin. Inside he was stained. No amount of water, no amount of soap would ever clean the horrors of the past few days.

He had to tell himself that what had just happened had been so brutal because it was revenge. It had been for everything that was taken and everything that was now fucked up. He had emptied his revolver into the body of a middle aged man with a pot-belly and soft features, shooting silver into his body long after he was obviously dead. He had wanted to reload and continue until there was nothing left, only blood and bits of bone and flesh. Burn and salt it all, burn it away into thick black clouds and nightmares.

The sun was slipping slowly down past the horizon, night would be here soon. He tried not to think about it, think about both his father and brother changing and what they might do. How much control did they really have over themselves while in that form? How safe would he be? Would they attack each other? He didn’t want to offer himself as distraction, his back burned and his insides quivered at the thought of being mounted by both of them while they were consumed with adrenaline and hate for eachother. He didn’t want to, but he would. He would do anything to keep his family, it’s all that he had. He would die for them.

[TBC]