A/N: Created for @spnkinkbingo and for @idreamofplaid’s In the Bunker Challenge, my prompt was the Dean Cave. Beta’d by the outstanding @crispychrissy and she also made the gif for me.
Days off were few and far between in the hunting life so you were thrilled when the brothers decided to take a week off with months of case after case and no breaks. Dean was on a food run, Sam was digging into the archives like the nerd he was, and you were finishing up a little pampering session. It was useless to paint your nails as it never lasted more than a day typically, but the process was soothing nonetheless.
Rubbing lotion into your skin until it was baby soft, you mused on what to do for the rest of the day. Chores had piled up but this was supposed to be a pseudo-vacation; you didn’t want to start it off with a bunch of laundry and dusting. A slow smirk appeared on your freshly exfoliated face as you decided on a plan.
You went over to your dresser and pulled out a new purchase Dean and Sam hadn’t seen yet. The buffalo plaid flannel onesie was made for lounging around the bunker. It was currently almost 90 degrees in the burning Kansas sun but no matter the temperature outside, the inside was perpetually freezing cold. Since joining up with the Winchesters 2 years ago, your collection of sweatshirts, thick socks, and blankets had grown exponentially.
You sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled the onesie’s legs over yours until your fire engine red painted toes popped out. Standing up, you pulled the rest over your body and zipped it up to just above your breasts. You moved over to the full length mirror, saucily posing, though you were the only one in the room. The fit was impeccable, skimming over your curves, and actually giving you an ass.
Dean and Sam would be eating out of the palm of your hand.
“Y/N, food’s here!” Dean bellowed down the hall.
“Be there in a sec!” your eyes sparkled as you gave yourself one final check in the mirror.
Padding down the hall to the newly arranged Dean Cave, you stopped in the doorway at the enticingly spicy scent wafting from the room. A low whistle brought your eyes to Dean as his darkening eyes roved over your body and outfit. You did the same, taking in his black sleep pants with your favorite buffalo plaid flannel over a black t-shirt.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you cocked an eyebrow, leaning against the door jam. His expression was exactly what you’d wanted, and frankly, had expected.
Dean’s tongue darted out to wet his lips; his mouth drier than the Mojave desert. He lifted his eyes to meet your gaze, cockiness returning to its usual position on his handsome face, “Well sweetheart, that can be easily arranged.”
“Maybe after the pajama party,” you winked as you made your way over to him and the roomy couch. You loved this couch; it was big enough for all three of you to fit comfortably and would do just right for what you had in mind.
“Speaking of pajamas… you stole my look,” Dean waved a hand over your body, “but it’s better on you.” Preening, you kissed his cheek before checking out the spread in front of you.
“Good lord Dean, how many pizzas do you think we can eat?”
He pursed his plump lips, his ‘dimples of discontent’ as you affectionately called them, winking at you. “We can never have too much pizza, Y/N. Besides, I got everyone their favorite: veggie for Sammy, the ‘Heart-Stopper’ with extra bacon for me, and the weird fungus pizza for you.”
You rolled your eyes, “They are just different kinds of mushrooms; they won’t kill you, unlike all that bacon grease.”
“Actually, there are several varieties that would kill him,” Sam strolled in and joined you on the couch, “So get this, A. virosa, otherwise known as The Destroying Ang-”
“Dude, no one cares.” Dean glanced around the room, “Dammit, I forgot the beer and water. Y/N, it’s your turn to pick the movie. Please, for the love of god, don’t pick one of your sappy chick flicks.” With that, he walked out to get the forgotten drinks, flicking on the 65” TV as he passed.
Sam gave Dean’s back his best bitch face before turning his attention to you. His eyes widened as he took stock of your onesie, which had pulled a little tighter across your firm breasts when you’d sat down. You reached over and ran your hand down his arm, giving him an even better view.
“You can tell me later. It would be good to know in case I get stuck all alone in the woods somewhere,” you purred, batting your lashes, “I just love when you speak nerdy to me, Sam.” Heat flared in Sam’s eyes as you continued rubbing his arm.
You had a casual friends-with-benefits situation going with both brothers. If you felt a little lonely or just frisky, you’d wander to one of their rooms for the night. Occasionally, the situation would reverse and Dean or Sam would end up in your bed and arms. It seemed to suit the three of you; each of you had your space when you wanted and no one was tied down. However, you’d never had both of them at once and it was something you desperately craved.
Giving Sam a seductive smile, you got up to pick out a movie, settling on the Outlander series instead. Dean would complain and call it a chick show but you knew the genre was a secret delight for him. You’d caught him tearing up while watching Love Actually on more than one occasion.
True to form, Dean bitched upon finding out what you were watching but you assured him there were plenty of brawls, blood and boobs to keep him happy.
Food comas overtook both brothers as you made your way through the Scottish countryside. Curled up between them, your head rested in Dean’s lap, one of his arms holding his head up on the end of the couch, the other relaxed over your free arm. Sam was on the other side, head back against the cushions, an errant strand of chestnut hair falling over his forehead. He had your feet over his thighs, kept covered and warm by his giant hands.
Soft snores reached your ears and you knew it was time to set your plan into action. Gently raising your head as to not disturb Dean, you turned just enough to get better access to your prize.
Dean’s beautifully thick cock was already half hard just from proximity to you. You brushed your nose over his bulge through his thin pants and mouthed over the quickly swelling erection, teasing him to full rigidity. Tugging the easy snap on his flap open, you reached in to pull Dean free, stroking and squeezing his length.
A low moan grabbed your attention and your eyes flicked up to Dean’s face. His dark lashes were fluttering as your slow movements pulled him from his nap. You smiled, watching him unconsciously bite down on his full bottom lip as you engulfed him into your warm mouth.
“Wha...” Dean’s sleepy eyes shot open, his left hand moving up to thread through your locks. “Fuck, Y/N, what are you...Sam’s right here.”
You pulled off him with a swirl of tongue around his salty tip, rubbing it over your lips.
“I got bored.” Flashing Dean a wicked grin, you resumed your task and licked him along the thick vein, gently sucking on his balls when you reached the base. Pressing open mouth kisses back up along his velvet shaft, you purred, “That feel good, Dean? You like it when I suck your fat cock?”
All Dean could manage was a weakly stammered, “Y-yeah, baby. Fucking love it.”
Humming, you took his cock between your lips and down your throat.
All the while you’d been playing with Dean, your feet had been rubbing over Sam’s lap. You felt him hardening under you ministrations, which pleased you to no end. Finally there was heavier movement under your feet as Sam jumped, taking in the scene before him.
“Whoa, Dean, Y/N, this is not-” Sam sputtered, equally taken aback and turned on, watching you swallow his brother’s cock.
“I woke up with her sucking my dick, man! You can’t tell me you’d make her stop.”
“Please Sammy,” you lifted off Dean to turn pleading puppy dog eyes to Sam, “want you...want both of you to fill my mouth and pussy up.”
Growls emanated from deep in both Sam’s and Dean’s chests at your sweet begging.
Sam lifted your feet off his lap as he flipped you to face towards the back of the sofa for better access. Sliding to the floor, he ripped at the flap of fabric covering your ass.
“Love that easy access, sweetness,” Sam’s face lit up with pleasure, “And no panties? Dirty girl.” He gave your ass a quick nip before dipping his tongue in your dripping hole, drawing whines from your lips. Your grip on Dean’s shaft tightened and you tried to keep stroking him but Sam’s long tongue was too distracting, plunging and questing to pull every ounce of slick out of your smooth sex.
Dean reached over to yank your zipper down and your tits spilled out into his palm. He traced over the curves, never staying too long in one spot before kneading the right one, tugging and worrying your taut nipple before reaching further into the onesie to lightly rub circles around your clit.
“I’m gonna fuck your pretty little mouth while you take Sammy’s dick in that sweet pussy, baby.”
The images flashing in your mind made an electric shock pulse through your nervous system, just as Sam sunk two fingers deep into your pussy, finding your sweet spot instantly. He gripped your thigh with his free hand to keep your legs open; your hand reached for his, intertwining your fingers. Sam kept twisting and curling his thick fingers inside, making your walls clench around him.
“Dean. Sam, please, I need… shit, Dean please!” you whimpered pathetically, abandoning the pretense of pleasing Dean, too strung out and throbbing with the need to come. You just needed a little bit more, a push to fall over the edge.
“Harder, Sam,” Dean ordered, increasing his speed on the swollen bud, adding in a few swift taps for good measure. “Come on, baby, let go for us.”
You lost all control and spasmed uncontrollably, screaming and cursing, your juices soaking Sam’s hand. He gripped your hand with his free one as he and Dean worked you through your orgasm, gently slowing as you came down off your high.
Catching your breath, you blinked slowly, taking stock of Dean massaging the top of your head as Sam ran his hands up and down your legs. The boys were holding a silent conversation above your head.
“You look a little worried, fellas.”
“Sammy’s scared we broke you.”
“I’m fine. I’m great. I’m fucking fantastic,” you stretched, unintentionally rubbing your body over their rock hard cocks, “just take me already.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sam and Dean smirked. Working in tandem, the brothers maneuvered you to your hands and knees then stripped off their clothing.
Fuck, they were gorgeous. How you’d gotten so lucky, you would never know. Chuck must have been in a good mood the day you met the Winchester brothers.
Sam was lean and muscular, his abs looked like they were carved out of granite. Dean was no less appealing with his strong shoulders and chest leading to his soft belly. His cock was thicker than Sam’s, who was a little longer in that department.
They assumed mirror images of each other on either end of you, one knee on the couch and the other leg standing straight.
Dean leaned forward, cupping your cheek, drawing you into a deep kiss. “You want this? Gonna be a good girl for me and Sammy?” He straightened, grasping the base of his length, tapping the head on your waiting lips.
You nodded, lust laden green eyes boring into yours as you bent to kiss Dean’s thick purple tip, sucking up the salty beads of precum. Deciding not to keep him in misery, you lowered your head to take him all the way down your throat.
“You look so good taking my brother’s dick, sweet girl,” Sam crooned. With your mouth utterly stuffed, you could only hum and buck your ass back towards him. He chuckled as he lined up with your slick folds, bumping your overly sensitive clit before pushing in with one hard thrust.
Crying out around Dean, you wiggled your hips, urging Sam to fuck you hard and fast. He took the hint, hooking his fingers into the fabric of your onesie and pounding into you. The delightful stretch bordered on painful but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Dean gathered your hair into a tangled ponytail at the back of your head and tugged. “Eyes up, sweetheart. Look at me. Let me see your beautiful face.” You moaned around his cock, pulling your own groans from Dean as the vibrations made him swell further. “Fuck Y/N, you’ve got a little hair pulling kink, don’tcha?”
“Shit, yeah she does. She’s squeezing me so fucking hard,” Sam’s lips drew back in a snarl as you fluttered around him.
They held you there, strung between them like a rag doll; Sam’s relentless hammering sending you nose first into Dean until all you could do was breathe and hold yourself up.
Dean came first, salty cum bursting into your mouth in a rush of warmth that flowed down your throat. You drank him down, lapping at his softening cock, his fingers relaxing in your hair. He scooted down, smiling dreamily and drunk on your attention as you pulled away and licked your lips clean.
Falling forward, your cheek landed on Dean’s thigh as Sam continued to drive into you deep and hard. Your orgasm was coming up fast and you wanted Sam to fall over the brink with you. Reaching underneath your body, your hand connected with his balls and you fondled them gently.
“Come on Sam, come with me. I’m so close,” you begged, “That’s it, fuck me good.”
As if he had been waiting for you, Sam roared through his orgasm, still fucking into your aching pussy, dragging you over the finish line right behind him. He gripped your hips as he drove you through, his hip bones bruising your thighs with the ferocity of his thrusts, his fingers surely leaving their mark on your skin.
Collapsing onto Dean’s chest, you curled into him and he wrapped his arms around you, kissing your sweaty forehead and smoothing your hair off your face. Tipping your face up to his, Dean took your mouth in an intoxicating kiss, his tongue dancing lazily with yours. Sam flopped down behind you, tracing circles over your bare ass, lulling you into complacency.
With no desire to move, the three of you fell asleep snuggled together in a heap.
Over an hour passed before you stirred, overly warm now, tucked between your two human furnaces.
“Well that was fun,” you slurred, utterly blissed out and satisfied. Sam got up and left the room and you glanced up at Dean. “Something I said?”
“Nah, sweetheart, I bet he just wants to clean up a little.”
Sam returned quickly and sure enough had two wet washcloths in his hands.
“I think I need a little more than a spit bath,” you scrunched your face, sitting up to pull the top half of the onesie from your drenched skin. “Anyone care to join me?”
Dean and Sam look at each other, automatically assuming their rock-paper-scissors stances.
Rolling your eyes, you sauntered across the room and passed through the doorway. “Whoever gets there first gets to fuck my ass,” you called out in a sing-song voice.
They stared after you for a second before both leaping towards the hall.
If you’d like to be added to my tag list please let me know!
Author’s note: this was written for @idreamofplaid Bunker Challenge. I got “Sam and Dean in the gym.”
“This is probably the dumbest thing we do,” Dean says as he slides forward and back on the rowing machine, sweat trickling over his temples and cheekbones, his jawbones and neck. His t-shirt’s soaked through and clinging, but he just keeps rowing.
“I mean,” he continues. “Everything we do is pretty idiotic, but also…” He stops for second and looks at Sam as he runs on the treadmill. “We basically run marathons and box and do that fancy CrossFit shit Donna does for our jobs.” He goes back to rowing. “This just seems redundant.”
Sam glares at him. “We do this – we have this gym – in order to maintain the overall health of our bodies, Dean, so that we can continue to do our physically demanding jobs.”
Dean grunts and pouts as he gets up out of the rowing machine and crosses the room to the TRX strap. “Whatever, man,” he mutters then starts the routine they each do three days a week. He does chest presses flyes, lat pulls, tricep presses, and deltoid raises.
Sam, dripping sweat and panting steps from the treadmill and smirks as Dean finishes his upper body workout and hands him the straps. “We also gotta work off that beer and bacon and burgers,” Sam says as Dean settles into the leg machine.
“Not like you eat a lotta burgers and bacon,” Dean says giving his brother a pointed look. “But, okay, I’ll allow that argument.” Then Dean perks up a bit. “Plus, the ladies seem to like the results.” Dean wags his eyebrows and Sam rolls his eyes.
The night before Dean had hooked up with a woman two towns over. She’d heard of the Campbell brothers, had seen them from afar, but boy was she pleased to get her hands on one. And what she did with those hands…
“You’re so hard,” she said, looking up at him from where she was kneeling on her living room rug, fist tight around the base of his cock, her other hand hooked in the denim bunched around his hips.
“All for you, sweetheart,” he said, smiling down at her, brushing his fingertips across her smooth forehead.
She licked at the head of his cock, slid her free hand up his torso then took him inside her mouth, all the while holding his gaze. She knew what she was doing. Her tongue laved at the underside of his cock as she gently sucked.
Dean twined his fingers with hers and let her do her thing. “You look so pretty,” he said, encouraging, praising. He thought she’d like that, and he was right.
She moaned around his length and closed her eyes, taking him deeper. He hit the back of her throat and cupped her jaw in his hand. She looked up again and pulled off of him, gasping for air.
“I want you to fuck my throat,” she said, and Dean’s cock twitched in her hand. “And you want to, don’t you? You wanna fuck my slutty throat and come in my mouth.” She bit her bottom lip and pumped him in her hand.
“You’re so hot,” she said running a hand over his sides and his abs. “So big and strong.”
Then she was suddenly up and dragging him toward the couch. She laid down and hung her head over the arm of it and grabbed him in her fist again.
“C’mon,” she breathed. “Fuck my mouth with that big dick. Make me choke on it. Come down my throat.”
“Leave it to you to turn this into something sexual,” Sam says, pulling Dean from memories of that gorgeous woman’s throat bulging with his cock as he slowly fucked into her, sucked her beautiful nipples, and fingered her wet, soft cunt until they both came.
“Well, Sammy, if it ain’t worth somethin’, it aint’ worth nothin’,” Dean says, toweling his neck and face.
“What does that even mean?” Sam asks as they leave the gym, switching off the lights behind them.
“I dunno, Dean says. “Just go with it.”
+
+
+
If you like what you’ve read, please let me know and/or buy me a coffee!
“And....cut!” Comes the call from in front of you, and everyone jumps up on to the set. Props are replaced, camera angles are double checked, make-up retouched. And amongst all the hustle and bustle, you quietly stand and wait for one man in particular to realise you're there. Just as he's headed to his mark, he tilts his head just slightly enough in your direction, and you smile just as widely as he does as he hurries over to you.
“Hey, handsome? Know where a girl can get a bite to eat around here? Plane food is horrendous.”
“Here.” Digging into his pocket, Jensen pulls out a set of keys. “Third trailer on the left. Make yourself at home.”
“Shall do. Am I able to give you a kiss, or will that wreck all your pretty make-up?”
“Jay!” Jared shouts, and the moments passed.
“Try to keep the gag reel shenanigans to a minimum.” You laugh, and with a wave to your second favourite Texan, you grab your bag and head towards the trailers.
You're just finishing up making two BLT's with extra bacon when you hear voices from outside. Grabbing the mayo, you put a healthy dollop on one, before grabbing a knife out of the trailer’s small but well-equipped kitchen and cutting both in half, as a pair of strong arms encircle your waist.
“Perfect timing.”
“Hmmm, I'll say. A beautiful woman in my sweatshirt, making me a sandwich. All I need now is a beer.”
“You’re one smooth talker, Ackles.”
“How were the vineyards of France?” Jensen asks you, grabbing both plates from the counter heading to the couch.
“They’re no brewery in Austin, that’s for sure.” You laugh, remembering the day you were assigned to cover the brewery’s opening for the paper you were freelancing for at the time. The place was gorgeous, as was the owner, who’d after giving you a dazzling interview for your article, so dazzling that the paper had offered you a permanent job, had asked for your phone number. You hadn’t hesitated for a second to give it to him.
“So, what assignments have you got lined up next?”
“Actually, nothing. For a month.”
“Seriously?!” Jensen mumbles through a bite of sandwich.
“Yep. I’ve called in a couple of favors so that I still get some holiday time at the end of the year, but the next four weeks are all mine.”
“That’s great timing. We’re on hiatus for two and a half weeks once we finish shooting this episode.”
“What’s this one about? Any juicy spoilers you can give me?” Having barely watched any of Jensen’s TV show when you got together, you had taken advantage of an unfortunate stomach bug to try it out. And that was all that had been needed for you to binge fourteen seasons worth of episodes in a seven week period. You always tried to get Jensen to spill the beans about episodes, but it never worked.
“Yes.. There is a scene, in which I, am....in.”
“Oh my God.” You squeal, throwing a cushion towards his face. “You freaking dork.”
“Yep. Your freaking dork.” Jensen laughs. “Though, I suppose I could give you a tour. Access all areas.”
“Ooo yes! Let’s go!”
“Now?” Jensen exclaims incredulously.
“Yes! Come on !”
Jensen had managed to get the keys to the sets, though you were sure he’d not really had to struggle doing so. You’d been nearly everywhere, Jensen telling you little stories or tricks of the trade for each new setting, and you’d even gotten to sit behind the wheel of Baby. Hand-in-hand, the two of you walked down a hallway before turning a corner to arrive in what you easily recognised as Dean’s bedroom.
“And this...this is where the magic happens.”
“Oh my God!” You laugh, sitting on the end of the bed. “Is that the kind of lines Dean Winchester uses now? No wonder he hasn’t gotten laid in a while.”
“Dean Winchester does just fine with the ladies.”
“Oh yeah?” You smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Well, my apologies, Dean. How’s about you show me just how fine you do?”
Jensen smiled wide at you, but as he realised that you weren’t kidding...holy fuck. His eyes darkened as he took a step towards you, giving you a flirty eyebrow raise of his own.”
“Hiya sweetheart.”
”Hey Dean. Been a while.”
“Yeah. You get lost or something? Because this is my room.”
“Actually” you whisper, standing up and resting your hands on Dean’s chest, “I’m exactly where I need to be.” Your eyes meet his green ones, and that’s all is needed to set the spark between you both alight. One big hand comes to the back of your neck, his lips rough and demanding against yours. His other grasps your hip, pulling you closer into that muscular body of his, and you can already feel how hard he is through layers of denim and cotton.
“Strip. Now” Dean’s voice comes out deep and broken as the two of you break apart, and you find yourself shaking as you move to follow his instructions. You’ve got your t-shirt over your head, unable to see anything, when Dean’s lips latch onto the point on your neck that always makes you weak behind the knees.
“Do you trust me?” Dean murmurs against your skin, and you gasp out a yes. You gasp again as Dean’s hands move to your t-shirt, freeing your arms but keeping it rolled over your eyes, and then he’s guiding you to lay down on the bed. You let out a whimper as his hands slide up your ribcage, just glancing over the swell, and then one hand slips under you and you feel the give of the clasp. Dean shimmys your bra off and then you feel the bed shift as he stands up, and you’re just about to move the fabric covering your eyes when you feel the bed dip once more, a heavy weight above you as Dean straddles your chest, and then he’s taking your wrists and tying them to the headboard”
“Oh God” You moan, Dean’s chuckles meeting your ears.
“Give me time, it’ll be my name your moaning.”
“Shit.”
You feel Dean shuffle backwords, til he’s between your spread legs. his fingers brush down your stomach, then he’s undoing your jeans, pulling both them and your panties off in one fell swoop. You can feel his breath on your pussy as he gets comfortable on the bed, and you can’t help but jump as he swipes one thick finger over your damp folds.
“Hmmm....seems someone likes being at my mercy. You’re so wet Y/N, you’re dripping over my bed. Dirty girl. Guess I’m going to have to clean you up.” And then his mouth is on you, tongue zeroing in on your clit like some sort of heat seeking missile.
“Dean!!” You yell, arching your back, before one forearm pins your hips back on the bed. You try to close your legs, but his wide shoulders keep them spread open to his gaze and his touch. You groan as you feel a finger dip into your pussy, before it’s pulled back and replaced by two. Your pussy clenches, desperate to come around his fingers as he continues to lick and suck at your clit. You’re right on the edge, sweating and writhing, when Dean pulls away, and with one quick movement flips you over, lifting your hips up and then he’s sliding into you, one long, hard movement that doesn’t stop until he’s buried in your tight wet heat, and it’s the feeling of his thick cock that makes you come around him. As you gasp for air, and wondering when exactly Dean took his clothes off, the man in question slowly pulls back, until he’s almost about to fall out, before slowly sliding back in, back and forth so slowly that you can feel every ridge, every pulse of his dick inside you.
“Dean.....” You sob, trying to get some purchase on the sheet beneath you, a sharp cry leaving you as he thrusts into you hard. You’ve no choice but to hold on and take it, his cock moving hard and fast, hitting that spot every time, until....
“DEAN!!!!” You can’t help but yell as you come for the second time, so hard and for so long that your vision goes white. As you come back down, you realise your hands have been untied, the blindfold thrown to the floor, soft murmurs in your ear.
“Y/N? Hun, talk to me.” Jensen’s Texan drawl slowly drifts over you, as soft as his hands as they caress your wrists. “Y/N?”
“Jensen....”
“There she is. Here, have a sip of this.” The water is cool against your parched throat, and Jensen has to keep moving it away to stop you gulping it down. “You OK? I know we’ve never done some of that before, but-”
“Jensen. If that’s how Dean Winchester does with the ladies, then we are gonna have to do that a lot more.”
We Get What We Deserve Ch. 5: Accidents Don’t Happen Accidentally (Alpha! Sam x Omega! Reader x Alpha! Dean)
Square(s) Filled: Fuck or Die @spnabobingo , Double Penetration @spnkinkbingo and for @idreamofplaid ‘s “In the Bunker” Challenge with the Hidden Room
Ship(s): Sam x Reader, Dean Reader (No Wincest)
Characters: Omega! Fem! Reader, Alpha! Sam, Alpha! Dean
Rating: Explicit
Word Counts: 2.3K
Warnings: Poly Relationship and Sex, Oral (Female Recieving), Anal Sex
We Get What We Deserve
Summary: When Dean and Sam are away, poor Y/N tries to find something to occupy her time. What could go wrong when a hidden room shows up?
A/N: OOOOO boi, smut is hard for Lia :( . So I hope you enjoy this regardless. I won’t be uploading for a hot minute cause Im working on a Bang Challenge. I will be doing the Hiatus Creations tho. Look out for that.
Beta’d by the lovely @sweetness47
You didn't waltz into the hidden room that had opened up without a plan. Being of sound mind, you made sure to send a text Dean and Sam, with all the information pertaining to where you were. Before jumping the gun and waltzing inside of the mysterious room, you needed to have a good, solid Plan B. The loud SLAM of the door closing behind you and locking you inside, echoed off the walls, and you prayed that the message you sent got through.
“Shit.” The curse slipped from your lips as you looked around the room for a brief moment. You ran a hand over the back of your neck. That wasn’t good.
As you looked at where the door should have been, you find no door handle. The room was designed to keep things in. It seemed as though you were stuck. Nice going, Y/N.
You reflected on the course of events that lead to you being locked inside of the room in the first place.
With the Winchester’s gone, you were left to you own devices in the bunker. Both Alpha’s had begun to sense the fact that their partner in hunting was about to go through her heat pretty soon. Neither brother wanted to be around you during that.
Try as you might, you couldn't convince the boys that it was you that should leave. The gentleman in them wouldn't hear of it.. They insisted you have the bunker during your heat, saying it was the safest place for you. Sure it was.
So, after being alone for the week, you were bored out of your mind with nothing to do until your heat finally came in. You tried cleaning, but gave up, getting distracted watching Netflix, then half way through that, you grew bored once more.
Doing too much of anything for long stretches of time had become irritating. So, you’d decided to go on walks through the bunker. It was at this point that you’d felt something begin to beckon to you, drawing you in.
A mixture of lemon and leather hit your nose all at once, bringing you to your knees momentarily. Slowly, you gained the ability to walk, and the further you walked, the closer you got to the scent. Then the hallway began to warm up, and the feeling brought goosebumps to your skin. The restlessness you’d been feeling the past three days was gone for the moment.
Finally, you came across a hidden room within the bunker. You’d been inside most of the rooms within your new home, but you couldn’t recall ever seeing this one. For the most part, the room was exactly the same as all the others, except this door blended in with the walls. In fact, you had almost missed it. You felt like Sam and Dean had no knowledge of the hidden room inside their bunker.
When you placed your palm against it, a feeling of ease washed of you once more. You craved to be on the other side of the door. Now, you were. You had gotten your wish.
Attempting to pull on the door did nothing as you had suspected. So, now that you were stuck inside the room, with nowhere else to go, you surrendered. You decided to give a look around the room.
It was cosy. Wood paneling made up the walls and soft carpet rested beneath your bare feet. A layer of dust covered the furniture items within the room. It was clear to you, that this room hadn’t been in use since the old Men of Letters days.
Most of the furniture was standard. A bed, dresser, mirror and an attaching bathroom made the room feel cosier than most of the bunkers bedrooms. It felt purposefully decorated that way. A small booklet sat on the side table and you began to move towards it.
Alphas and Omegas within the Men of Letters: A Guide to Mating. You wrinkle your nose in disgust as you flip through the booklet. The “guidelines” are as archaic as this rooms. Every rule seems to have no regard for the Omega in the mating rituals for those within the Men of Letters society.
The room’s sole purpose was described as followed. “To make sure all Alphas within the Men of Letters Society are satisfied. An omegas senses are to be dulled by the release of the scent most desirable to them. In addition to that, once the door is opened, it is to remained closed until knotting has occurred."
You’d been tricked into a sex dungeon. You felt disgusted at allowing yourself to be led to that damn room.
Of course, it didn’t take long for Sam and Dean to barrel into the room, only for the door to shut behind them as well.
“Was that the door?” Dean asked, lowering his gun to his side. Sam turned around and looked at where the door was supposed to be, as you had done an hour earlier.
“Shit.” The two brothers said in unison.
The room had turned sweltering, like the thermostat had been turned up to a hundred degrees. You’d already torn off most of the clothing you’d been wearing, Tossed into one of the corners lay everything but your panties and tank top. It only made matters worse now that Sam and Dean were in with you, especially after you explained that none of you would be leaving until the doors opened.
Sam had attempted to look for supplies, only to come up with a roll of old looking condoms and dried up lube. Which meant no food or water, and no safety either.
Dean had used up both his and Sams bullets in an attempt to open up the door. Nothing worked. Sam had surrendered most of his clothes to the heat within two hours. It took Dean another two to follow after his baby brother. You clear your throat, catching the attention of both brothers.
It dawned on the three of you that no one would be leaving any time soon.
Dean’s eyes lingered on you for a brief moment before his head turned away, ashamed of the lust he felt. Sam seemed to feel otherwise as he looked right at you, even smirking as you begin to crawl closer towards him. “I want you. Both of you. I don’t care. This room might kill us if we don’t fuck. I’ve wanted it for so long anyways.”
Sam lets his eyes flicker down to your mouth, and a glint of lust sparkles in his eyes before he presses his lips to yours. His hand moves up to grip your hair and yank you closer to his body, pulling you onto his lap.
A small moan of pleasure leaves your mouth as the two of you grind against each other. Alpha and Omega, fighting one another for pleasure. It’s only when Dean slides his hand along your back, do you cry out for them.
“Alphas.” You beg. “Touch me.”
Sam gripped your thigh, his thumb digging a bruise into your skin as he looked down at you. Dean’s palm had made its way to your throat, squeezing around it. “We’re gonna do more than just touch you sweetheart.”
The heat of the room caused all three of you to shed what remained of your clothes.. You felt both brother’s cocks grinding and rubbing against you, and you shiver as you imagine them inside you, fucking you senseless.
One of Dean’s calloused palms moves to cover your soft flesh. He kneads it gently as Sam moves his hands to your core. The youngest Winchester slides his fingers through your soaked folds, tracing a line down your legs.
Being moved now onto Dean’s lap, you feel his bare chest against your back. Sam's head begins to dip down, making a trail of kisses along your tummy and thighs. Each kiss was urging your thighs apart, giving him access to your pussy.
“Gonna have to get you nice and open baby girl.” His stubble covered jaw scraped along the smooth skin of your thighs, causing you to tremble in anticipation. Dean's hands continued to move over your breasts.
With a quick kiss to your clit, Sam sinks two digits deep inside you. You start to cry out, but strong hands turn your head, and Dean's mouth crushes against yours. Whispered promises and filthy words flow from Sam’s mouth as he sees you grinding, convulsing underneath his touch.
“That’s it princess. You look so pretty like this.” Dean pulled his lips from yours, leaving his palm against your throat. “Baby girl. We got you.” The eldest brother whispers. Never once did their hands leave your body, the need to touch you overwhelming them in every possible way.
Soon enough, you were coming in Sam’s hand, spiraling out of control as he continued to fuck his fingers inside of you. He disregarded the fact that you had already come, but you didn't care. You arched your back, begging for more.
“Please!” You sob softly. Dean tried his best to soothe you, but he made no move to stop his brother, and a silent understanding passed between them. With a few more strokes, Sam dragged you back over that cliff of pleasure. Tears streamed down your cheeks as he pulled his hand away.
Both men looked at you, thighs shaking, cum sliding down your bare thighs. Neither brother spoke as they took you in. You knew your heat was coming in early. The way your body was growing warm and your cunt was aching for a knot to be inside you.
Then the moment came, both brothers were gonna fuck you. This was almost too good to be true. Sam reached down and brushed his thumb lovingly over your cheek as he spread your thighs for him. Then Sam’s cock slid into your front, your voice unable to express the fact you wanted Dean inside you too.
The message, though unspoken, seemed to be clear enough, as he collects a bit of slick from where Sam was moving inside you. He begins to push a single finger into your ass, with too little lube, finding it hard to move around inside you. The burn and ache of it all added another level of pleasure to the situation.
Sam lifted your small body up high, only to slam you back down with each thrust. Soft mewls of pleasure flowed out of you with each movement, a gentle cry coming out as you ached for both men now. Dean mad slow movements and worked his way up to three fingers. Your slick was the only lube around, so stretching and pain was inevitable.
Sam held back, knowing that he needed to wait to make you cum. His forehead pressed back against yours as Dean gave his baby brother the signal he was ready to go in. Only then did the younger Winchester’s pace pick up speed. His grip on your hip tightened uncomfortably, but his other hand was free to mash his thumb against your clit. You chased after an orgasm that was surely going to break you.
Sam and Dean continue to press loving and gentle kisses along any place that they could reach. Dean’s hand slid along your back and both men easily thrust inside you. Now that both men where inside you, it was hard to think, you’d never be able to go back from this. Both of them continued to move inside of you, claiming your body like the Alphas they were. Each leaving temporary marks that would have to do until they could properly claim you.
Thrust after thrust, moan after moan, each second of overwhelming pleasure only brought tears to your eyes and your body grew limp. Then you felt Sam lift you up and bring you down himself. Dean's warm palms continued to roam over your chest, grabbing at whatever he could blindly reach at.
You finally came with a loud cry, sobbing as you felt Sam and Dean follow soon after you. Dean slipped out, but you barely noticed, because Sam was fully knotted inside of you. He looked up at his brother as Dean pushed the door open.
“Thank God” Sam whispered as he lifted you up. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.” He smiled weakly as he awkwardly, but carefully carried you out. Although, you barely registered the words as you felt yourself drift off to sleep.
Dean’s eyes lingered on the cup of coffee sitting in front of him, the spoon lazily clanking against the edges of the drink. A gentle sigh burst passed his lips as last nights dream lingered on his mind, despite his best efforts to push it aside. He had no intention on thinking about a wet dream that included his brother; it was too close for comfort.
Not 5 minutes later, Sam made his way into the kitchen, a hand moving through the mess that was the kid’s hair. It surprised the eldest Winchester to see Sam still in his sleep clothes. Dean double checked his watch, and saw the time was, in fact, noon. He couldn’t remember the last time Sam had slept in so late when he wasn’t sick or exhausted from an apocalypse like situation.
“Mornin’ Sammy.” Dean smiled and greeted his brother. Sam’s response was a meager grunt as he waved his hand in Dean’s direction. The younger Winchester reached for a cup and the pot of coffee. He too was having flashbacks to the previous night's dream, and trying very hard not to linger on the fact that he enjoyed watching Y/N with the both of them.
With little left to say, both men sat in silence, drinking their coffee, and letting their thoughts drift to you, and you alone.
A/N: For those of you 18 and over! This fulfills my “grace kink” square for @spnkinkbingo and my submission for @idreamofplaid‘s In the Bunker Challenge. I picked Castiel and “In the Library.” I hope you enjoy!
Comfort was being in the presence of your angel and stacks of books. No matter the trials you faced or the monsters you slew, it was here you found your saving grace. You slid a few books from the shelves and down onto the table, eyeing the three sets of initials carved into the sturdy wood.
With Michael still out there and your brothers unable to sit still, you did what you could, scanning the lore yet again for answers that could aid in your fight against the omniscient archangel. Sam and Dean took on case after case. Dean couldn’t sit still, his mind racing with all of the things Michael made him do. Of course it wasn’t his fault. He did what he did to save his family. But Dean wore his guilt like a knight yielded a shield and there was no getting through it until he laid it down before you.
Sam tried to get through to him. And he kept trying. But you knew he wouldn’t open up until he’d processed things himself and so you stayed behind with Cas, diving into book after book until your eyes glazed over from boredom.
Leaning back, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes against the scent of old books, allowing it to wash over you and calm your spiraling mind.
“Eni.”
Your eyes popped open at the sound of his voice, a smile spreading across your face at the nickname, short for Enigma. Years back, he’d called you by the name out of the blue – you were all things rolled into one – and since then the name stuck. “Found something?”
“No, you just look preoccupied.”
“I am,” you replied. “Can’t help it. I just can’t shut my mind off, you know?”
Instead of waiting for an answer, you slammed the book closed and returned to the shelves for another when you felt a familiar warmth spread over you – although used in a whole new way. Cas used his grace to heal you countless times, but now it snaked its way over your skin like silk, its cool heat forming goosebumps that rolled across your body. You met his gaze with a knowing smile before returning to the table with a book in hand.
It was only when you sat down that realized the book in question was about vampires and therefore of absolutely no use to you, but as his grace climbed slowly up your calves and crawled up your thighs you swallowed back a shaky breath. Fingers slipped across the pages and out of the corner of your eye you saw Cas smirk, his fingers twisting mindlessly across the wood in time with the dancing of his grace.
The chill gave way to a steady fire. He didn’t even need to touch you to make you crumble and you wanted him now – wanted him to make you forget all the bullshit. “Cas-“
“Relax,” he breathed, his eyes never leaving the page of his own book. “Trust me.”
You did. With every single fiber of your being, but those same fibers buzzed with resounding need. You wanted to feel him. His hands on your skin. His lips against the shell of your ear. His heated skin against yours as he filled you.
Squeezing your thighs together, you gave yourself over to the feelings he created. As his grace slipped its way toward your pussy a soft moan escaped your lips. You could feel him smiling and heard him stand up, following the soft thud of shoes. “Cas, please.”
His voice traveled from behind you into your ear, calming you momentarily. “Patience, Eni.”
With a quick snap, the warming swirl of his grace licked at your clit like a fire licked at tinder, spinning faster and faster, pressure more insistent until all you could hear was the sound of your heaving breaths and the pleas that caught in your throat, unable to be given voice.
“Fuck, I…”
Slowly, you reached your hand up to grasp your breast but the same invisible force that slipped between your folds forced it back down.
“Please, Cas. I need you.”
Bending down, he grazed his lips against the side of your cheek, his breath hitched and assurances sitting on the tip of his tongue. He finally cupped your breast, the first bit of touch, real physical touch, which made you want more. As his hand peeled back the thin cotton of your t-shirt, he swirled his grace in figure eights around your folds causing you to buck beneath the imperceptible force. “First, you’ll come this way. Then I’ll give you what you want.”
You smirked against the bubbling moan in your throat and slipped your hand over his, guiding him where you wanted him to go – though he didn’t need to be told. “Come for me, Eni,” he whispered, kissing your forehead while he gently twirled and pinched your nipple.
A groan escaped your lips before you even realized where it came from. “Oh fuck!” Your eyes shot open, meeting the cerulean depths of Cas’ gaze as you shook beneath his ministrations.
He stepped out from behind you and leaned against the table. “You look stunning when you come, you know that?”
“Only for you, Cas.”
Standing up, you clasped his face in your hands and pressed your lips against his, searching his mouth for the solace you sought and finding it as he spun you around and backed you against the table. You peeled your jeans and panties down your legs and kicked them away, spreading them wide so Cas could step between them. Palm down, he pressed you back into the table and licked a stripe up your pussy before positioning himself at your entrance. The teasing was almost unbearable. Your nerves were still on fire from the assault of his grace and the touch of his calloused hands.
“Fuck me, Cas. Please.”
When he pushed home, you cried out and wrapped your legs tight around his waist, using your heels to dig into his lower back and coax him closer. Your pussy contracted around him, pulling him closer and closer. But it wasn’t close enough.
Cas pulled you up nearly flush against him and slipped his tongue between your lips, his pelvis grinding into you and upward. The motion assaulted your clit, pressuring increasing at an alarming pace until you were panting in his arms and begging for release once more. “Please, Cas.”
“Eni-“
A groan cut off his cry for you, his own climax close enough to taste, the tang almost sweet on your own tongue. Reaching down, he swiped his fingers across your clit, rubbing back and forth as quickly as he possibly could all the while continuing his thrusts at a brutal place.
Every muscle in your body began to tremble as he buried his head in the crook of your neck and cried out, a last shot of grace wrapping around your body and extending the high. He moaned at the taste of your sweat-slick skin and trembled as he finally met your eyes. “Feel better?” He asked, his cheeky little smile telling you he knew the answer. Steady breaths finally took root again and you slumped against his shoulder with a sleepy smile.
A creak of the floorboards alerted you both to the presence of someone else in the bunker. With a snap of his fingers, you were clothed once again ready for whoever walked into your midst.
You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding when Dean and Sam walked back in and noticed the tightness in Cas’ pants and the blush on your face. “Oh really?” Dean exclaimed. “Come on! On the table?”
You both shrugged. You’d bet money they’d both have done the same thing if the opportunity presented itself. “What can I tell you,” you laughed.
Dean and Sam shivered in horror. “I’m going to go scrub my brain,” Sam said. “My little sister.”
“You knew I was sleeping with Cas.”
“Yea, but I didn’t want to see the afterglow.”
“Too bad,” you laughed. “You leave the bunker and I can’t vouch for what happens in here.”
Dean looked grossed out, which always made you laugh. He’s one to talk. “I’m never coming in here again,” he replied, walking past you and toward his room.
Jensen x Reader (platonic); Dean x Reader; Sam Winchester, Castiel, Anael
A/N: This is for @idreamofplaid‘s Bunker Challenge and for @spndeanbingo. This idea came from the above-mentioned angel, Robin, and I just sort of ran with it. As she originally put it, think a Reversed French Mistake. This is my first time at anything like this, so please, take it with a grain of salt (or you know, buckets of salt). Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!
Summary: Reader goes to look for Dean when he stands her up for their date, only to find someone that looked familiar in his place.
Bunker Room: Dean’s Cave
SPN Dean Bingo Square filled: Supernatural
Warnings: Language, bit of angst, bit of floof
WC: 6K
“Dean?! Dean, I know you’re here you son of a bitch!” you screamed, angry and hurt that he stood you up. It wasn’t like him, and even though you had a bit of a disagreement the day before, you didn’t think it was enough for him to blow you off.
Three hours you waited for him at that damn bar. Earlier that day, he promised you a night off of hunting and a good time. Something you both needed, together. As far as you knew, there was no hunt, Dean always calls you to tell you when they were leaving for a job; always.
The bunker was quiet. No Dean. No Sam. Not that that was unusual, but it was creepy quiet. The entire place was ensconced in the red glow of the emergency lights, and there was the slightest hint of something witchy in the air.
Withdrawing your gun from the inside pocket of your leather jacket, you held it out in front of you as you carefully checked each room, only to find them all empty. As you made your way back around to the library, a sound from far down the hall caught your attention. It sounded like it was coming from…
“Dean’s cave. Dammit. I swear… If you are passed out drunk in there--” you muttered as you angrily stalked down the long corridor. “I will whoop your ass, Winchester…”
Once you were outside the door, it was quiet again; so much so that you almost turned and left, but then you heard it again. It sounded like a moan…
Closing your eyes and praying that you weren’t about to catch Dean shitfaced on the floor, you slowly opened the door to Dean’s man cave, and found it empty of the eldest Winchester. In fact, there was no one in there at all, at least that you could see.
Slowly you walked around the room, gun up, finger near the trigger. It wasn’t a big space; easily checked with a quick glance around—or so you thought. Just as you were about to lower your gun and leave, you heard the moan again. Over in the small space between the foosball table and the wall, you saw them… A pair of shoes were sticking out from the legs that disappeared into the shadows.
You set the sight of the gun on the body laying there, ready to shoot it if it charged. You got closer, and gingerly nudged the legs to see if they would move. The owner of the body groaned, deep and raspy, and started to move. That’s when you noticed that whoever it was, they were wearing weird looking shoes and khaki shorts.
Keeping your target on the calf of the intruder, you waited until they were almost sitting up. When their head breached the top of the foosball table, and you thought you saw a familiar face, you lowered your gun. You cocked your head to the side and stared in a curious fashion and he continued to stand up.
“Dean?” you asked, staring at the man who was the identical twin to your boyfriend, but somehow looked nothing like him. “What… Who? Who the Hell are you?!”
“What?” he rasped and brought his hand to the side of his head. The man grabbed onto the side of the foosball table and used it to support himself to stand up. At his full height, his back was still facing you and being unable to see his face in the ambient light of the room, you lifted your gun again.
“Who are you?”
He finally turned around, just as the lights came back on. The stranger wore Dean’s face alright, right down to the green eyes and freckles across his nose.
“What?” he asked again. “Where the fuck am I?”
You clicked the hammer back and put your finger closer to the trigger.
“I am not gonna ask you again, asshole. Who are you and why do you have my boyfriend’s face?”
“Your… my face?” he shook his head, but the confusion didn’t falter. “Just give me a minute… where…” he looked around and realization dawned on his face. “I’m on set. Why am I on set…” he paused again. “HOW am I on set. I’m not even IN Vancouver right now…” his voice trailed off over the last few words as he stepped out from behind the foosball table. That was when he finally noticed the gun that was currently keeping him in its crosshairs.
“Jesus lady! What the fuck!” he yelled and went to grab it from your hand.
In one swift movement, you stepped out of the way, got behind him, grabbed one of his arms twisted it up to his back and pressed the gun to the back of his head.
“Oww! What the Hell is your problem?!”
“My problem?! Buddy, YOU’RE the one with the problem. I will ask you ONE more time… then, I’ll put a bullet in you. WHO are you and HOW did you get into the bunker?”
“Jensen… my name is Jensen, okay? And I work here. This is the set to a show! My show! But I don’t… I don’t know how I got here. I was in Nashville playing golf. We were about to head to the hotel to change for a panel and then, everything went black.”
His voice was strong, not wavering in the least, but you could still tell he was scared. It could have been due to the gun you kept pressed to his neck, but you certainly weren’t going to take any chances.
“Panel?” you asked, confused by the whole situation. Why did this guy look just like Dean? Well… the clothes were definitely off, and this Jensen guy had a nearly full beard, otherwise, he was Dean’s doppelganger.
Slowly, you lowered the gun and began to ease the tension on the arm you had up around his back. He shook you free and stepped away exasperated.
“Seriously, what the fuck is going on?!” He seemed panicked and bordering on manic. Before you could tell him to stop, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He was muttering to himself as he opened his contacts and scrolled til he found who he was looking for. But when he hit call, you could hear the tone beeping through his receiver and the operator come on to tell him it wasn’t a valid call.
“Come on,” he groaned and tried again. Then another contact, and another, until he reached the conclusion that there was no one to call. Closing his eyes, he sighed heavily, brought the phone to his forehead and rested it there.
The whole thing would have been funny if it wasn’t sorta sad. “Look, buddy, I don’t know who you are, but you look just like my boyfriend, Dean--”
“Winchester,” he said finishing your sentence. “Yeah, I know him… I AM him.”
“What? No, you’re not. Dean wouldn’t wear clothes like that, especially not khakis and a Polo shirt… and are those kleets? He certainly never grew a beard,” you challenged.
“Yeah, I know, they’d never let me,” he muttered. “And these?” he pointed to his feet. “Golf shoes… I was somewhere on the back nine last I remember. Besides the point, I play Dean Winchester, on a show, called Supernatural. My name… its Jensen Ross Ackles. I was born on March 1, 1978. Dean was born--”
“January 24th, I know. I have celebrated his birthday with him every year for the last few years.”
“Years? What? No… no! The longest Dean ever had someone was Lisa, and he was only with her a year.”
You watched in horror as this stranger with your boyfriend’s face recanted Dean’s history to you; every minute detail, every little scrap of his life… this guy knew all about it. Well, except for you. Apparently, you were the wild card.
“And when did Dean get another girlfriend?!” he finally finished, raising his hands in the air then slapping down against the outer part of his thigh. “Fuck me I need a drink.”
Jensen continued to pace, and as he whipped out his cell phone again.
“Are you willing it to give you a different outcome?” you asked, not without sarcasm.
“I--no. I just… here, I’ll show you.” He navigated to the internet and typed his name into the search bar. Nothing. No results. “That can’t be.” He tried again, and nothing.
“Look, whoever you are, you are not in Vancouver. You are in Lebanon, Kansas. This is Men of Letters bunker, currently inhabited by The Winchesters. This is--”
“No!” he exclaimed with a note of fear. “This is a television show set, in Vancouver, Canada, and you’re a PA who Misha probably set up to prank me,” he said, his nose wrinkled and his eyes narrowed, but as the thought left his lips, he seemed to relax.
“Misha? Who the fuck is Misha?”
Jensen sighed and looked at you with an air of annoyance. “You probably know him as Castiel.”
You nodded slowly, and finally decided it was safe enough to stow your gun back in its rightful place. “I do know Cas, but… he’s not been to Earth in a few years now. He returned to Heaven after…”
“After, what?” Jensen asked in mocking fashion.
“You know what? Fuck you. I don’t have to explain myself. YOU are the stranger here. Not me.”
“Yeah, okay lady. Tell Misha I said he got a great actress, okay? He wins. Prank war, over.”
“Ok, I’ve had enough. Come on, pretty boy, let’s go,” you said and motioned towards the door.
“Go where?”
“Out into the bunker. Show me where the ‘set’ is supposed to be, hm? Or the cameras… where are they?”
“Fine. I will,” he replied, an arrogant smirk on his face.
His resemblance to Dean was scary, they were identical in their mannerisms and tone of voice. But this guy was different, it only took a few minutes to see that. He was lighter and much less… haunted.
Jensen went to leave the room, put his hand on the door and paused. You couldn’t see his face, but the way his shoulders slumped you assumed he came to some kind of reckoning. He picked his head up and turned to face you.
“Problem?” you asked, hands firmly planted on your hips.
“Slight one. I just realized that if this were the set, that wouldn’t be there,” he said and motioned towards the wall behind the mini bar. But yet…”
“There’s a wall.”
“Precisely.”
“So, quite a conundrum we find ourselves in here… what was it again?”
“Jensen,” he grumbled, casting his gaze up to the ceiling.
“Now what? Think maybe the truth might finally work for ya?”
“Lady, I am telling you--”
“Call me lady again, and I certainly will not respond like one,” you warned, reaching for the gun in your jacket pocket.
Jensen put his hands up in relent and walked around the room towards the mini-bar. When he went behind it and found the small fridge full of cold beer, he pulled one out and popped the top. Chugging half the beer, he turned and looked at the wall curiously. You watched as he pounded on it at the seems, and tried to both push and pull on it.
“What the HELL are you doing?” you asked, unable to stay quiet.
“It’s a fake wall, right? I mean, this isn’t real. None of this is real.”
“I’ll tell you what, let’s go take that walk after all, hm? Maybe if you see that the bunker is solid and that there’s no camera crew, you can stop acting like a lunatic and help me figure out what the fuck is going on.”
Jensen considered it for a moment and agreed. “I honestly don’t have anything else so, why not.”
“Well, as you keep saying, you have played this part for years. So, get in his head and think. What happened?”
He paused a moment and you could tell he was trying, but he was coming up blank.
“Fine. let’s just take a look through the bunker. Maybe if you walk around, you’ll get an idea of how you got here.”
You lead him through the various rooms, and in each one he looked around as if he was lost in some kind of fog, mumbling to himself as he went. He went down each corridor, through the kitchen, all the bedrooms, war room, library, even the firing range, and storage. Eventually, you lead him up through the main door and up to the garage.
It was in the garage, that your concern over Dean’s whereabouts grew. He wouldn’t go anywhere without his car, and the Impala was currently parked in its usual spot.
Jensen heard you inhale sharply, and looked you over. “You alright?”
“Fine,” you replied curtly.
“You don’t look fine.”
“Yeah, well, you may have his face but you don’t look like Dean. So, where the fuck is he and why are you here?
That's where the wheels started to come off for Dean’s look-a-like. He started to laugh, almost manically and then rub his hands over his face. A thought had occurred to you, a sick one, but one you had to follow regardless.
“I’m just gonna put this out there if this is some elaborate prank--”
“But!! That’s just what I said!!” Jensen exclaimed, his face twisted into a mix of exasperation and panic.
“You said Misha was pranking you. I am saying if you ARE Dean, and this is a way to fuck with me....”
Jensen exhaled and shook his head for a beat before it snapped up and held your gaze.
“Dean has one tattoo, right? The anti-possession tattoo on his chest…”
You shrugged. “Yeah, so?”
Jensen pulled down the collar of his shirt to reveal a bare spot where the ink should have been. “See, nothing. Also…” he pulled up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal an elaborate tattoo of a bird. “He doesn’t have this.”
You stepped closer to inspect it, and when you reached out to touch his skin, he flinched. “I just want to be sure it’s real.”
“Oh, it’s real. I got it for my daughter. I am telling you, my name is Jensen. I am not from here… this is… this…” he started laughing again and just turned to wander down the path back to the bunker, but kept turning around to see if you were following him.
By the time you were back in the safety of the bunker, Jensen went right to the cave and to the beer he left sitting on the mini bar top.
“You were saying?” you said, falling into one of the recliners.
“I just… Wait. We did this…” Jensen mumbled and paced the room, eventually coming to sit in the recliner beside yours. “This was an episode, this was… fuck… season five. No, six. Shit!” He growled in frustration and continued mumbling to himself. “Do something as long as this and it all blurs together.”
“What?”
He looked at you and shook his head. “Nothing. It's just that, on our show, we had an episode like this. It was angels. Angels threw Dean and Sam into another reality. Where they were us. It was so dumb, but also pretty meta,” he snorted a laugh but when you didn’t return his humor, his face fell. “Whatever. My point is, is if this is REALLY happening, its gotta be angels.”
“Angels. Angels are gone, man. I guess your show didn’t cover that?”
“Well, sort of. They’re almost all gone,” he replied.
“I’m calling Sam. He’s gotta be able to help. Or at least know where Dean is.”
“Yes! Call Jar--Sam. Good call,” he smiled and leaned forward, resting his elbows along his legs and nervously rubbed his hands together.
You pulled the cell from your pocket and found Sam on speed dial. His phone didn’t ring, just beeped like the old house phones used to when they were busy.
“Damn. I’ll try Dean, again.”
Same problem.
“Shit.”
“No luck?” he asked.
“Clearly,” you replied and held up the darkened screen of the phone. “I wonder…” you went back to your contacts and dialed Rowena.
No answer.
“Fuck!”
Frustrated, you got up from the recliner and went back to the mini bar grabbing two bottles. As you walked back to the chair, you handed one to Jensen even though he didn’t ask.
“I’m not Dean, remember. I certainly can’t drink like he does.”
“Yeah, well, suck it up buttercup. Down the hatch. You’re gonna need it.”
Jensen laughed. “I gotta ask you… shit… I don’t even know your name.”
You eyed him suspiciously. There had been some weird shit that went down around Sam and Dean over the years, but this was a new kind of cuckoo.
“Y/N,” you said and went back to trying to figure out what to do next.
“It's very odd to meet you, Y/N. Mind I ask you something?”
“Why not.”
“How did you meet Dean?”
“Oh, I’m not on your show?” you couldn’t help reply with a heavy dose of sarcasm. Jensen simply shook his head in response. “Too bad.”
“So? How did you and Dean end up together?”
“What do you care?”
“Because I AM him. I am. I have played that character for damn near fifteen years, and now that it's all coming to an end…” he trailed off, his expression growing distant and sad.
“Jensen?”
“Uh? Sorry. I drifted. I’m just curious. Regardless of whatever the hell this all is, Dean is clearly living a life that I’m not apart of and I want to know how he met a girl like you.”
“A girl like me?” you didn’t know if you should be offended or not.
“Spunky. Fierce. Not gonna lie… a little scary.”
You shrugged demurely and smiled. “Aw, ain’t you a charmer.”
“Let’s not forget sarcastic.”
“It’s the language of my people.”
“Yes, Dean’s too. So, tell me. How?”
“We met on a job. I was the job. He was the hunter. Simple as that.”
“What kind of job?”
“Jesus, Jensen. Does it matter?”
“It does to me, okay?”
“It was a haunting, and they showed up out of nowhere. I had no idea what it was but I was scared, and it was coming after me every night. They guys showed up, claiming to be paranormal researchers, and asked if they could check the place out. I said yes because I wanted whatever it was to get out.”
“Did they do it?”
You nodded quietly. You didn’t want to talk about the case. It was personal and hard to discuss with anyone that wasn’t Dean; even a man who wore the same face.
“Dean stuck around afterward. Made sure I was ok. Then, I don’t know one thing led to another, and now here we are a few years later and…” you shrugged.
“You’re still together.”
“Yup.”
Jensen’s expression changed and despite the craziness of the situation. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked almost peaceful.
“Holy shit!” he said and jumped up out of the chair. “I remember!” He placed the beer down on the floor next to the recliner and went over to where he woke up by the foosball table. There, on the wall was what he had thought of. “Look, see!”
You got up and walked around to see what he was pointing at. On the bottom of the wall was a small sigil, painted in a dark red substance you were pretty sure was blood.
Jensen touched it, then wrinkled his nose and quickly wiped his hand on his far-too-clean khakis. “Oh God, I hope that's just painted on… in paint.”
Rolling your eyes, you pushed him out of the way to get a better look. It had been a long time since you had seen anything Enochian, but it was a symbol you knew well. “Fucking angels,” you groaned as you studied it closely. “Dammit.”
“See, I told you!” Jensen smiled, proud of himself, but still trying to get the red mark off his fingers.
“Good for you, you get a gold star,” you replied half-assed, ignoring the glaring look Jensen gave you.
Wracking your brain you moved away from the sigil and began to pace the cave, running your fingers along the bars of the foosball table. Chewing your bottom lip, you tried to figure out what to do next. Angels had left Earth years before, right after Chuck had come back and saved humanity from a very ugly ending. Calling on them now may prove difficult, but it was the only choice you had.
Sitting in the recliner again, you closed your eyes and let your fingers intertwine with each other, clasping them together tightly. “Dear Castiel, I know its been a long time, but, if there is any way you can hear me if you can hear any part of this prayer… I need your help. Dean and Sam, they’re gone. I need--”
“I know,” you heard from the doorway right after a rush of wind lifted your hair from your face. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I know where they are and I am working on getting them back.”
“Castiel,” you breathed as you slowly stood up. “You’re here.”
“I am. I’m sorry I’ve been, MIA, as Dean would say. Heaven is once again falling into chaos--” he stopped as he noticed Jensen standing near the table. “Who…” Castiel paused and in a flash was standing behind Jensen, making him jump. Cas inconspicuously sniffed the air around Jensen’s head, frowning before flying back to where he had been. “Despite looking very much like him, this is not Dean.”
“No, Cas. It’s not. That’s what I am saying. Dean was gone and in his place…” you motioned towards Jensen, “This.”
“Hey,” Jensen whined.
“So, you said you know. What do you know? Where are they? What happened?”
“It's another angel, she’s…” Castiel trailed off and gestured vaguely. “She’s causing trouble. She wants me to help her, claims she has a vision of how God wanted humanity to be. Claims he left her with it the last time he walked the Earth.”
“After Jack?”
“Yes,” Castiel replied.
“Oh, yeah, the Jack story. Huh,” Jensen smiled. “That was a crazy one man, I liked how--” he stopped talking when he realized both you and Castiel were staring at him strangely. “Just saying it was a cool way to wrap... up… that... I’m just gonna finish my beer now.”
“Good idea,” you said to him and turned back to Castiel. “Alright, so which angel?”
“Anael.”
“Oh! I remember her!” Jensen butted in again. “On the show, my wife played Anael. Pretty cool, right?”
“What is he talking about? What show?” Cas muttered, leaning in close so maybe Jensen wouldn’t hear.
“Long story for another day. Can you get to her? Find out why she did this?”
“She wants me to help invoke her vision of the new heaven. I told her no. She claims I owe her one and told me she would torture my ‘favorite humans’ if I refused her,” Cas sighed and dropped his arms to his side after using dramatic air quotes.
“Meaning Dean and Sam.”
“Yes.”
“Well, she followed through. So, go find the angel bitch now, get my boys back, Cas.”
“I’ll do my best, Y/N.” With that, he was gone.
“Wow,” Jensen whispered loudly. “To see it really happen. Amazing.”
“Yeah, its Aces.”
You went back to where you left your beer and finished the bottle in one long pull. Making your way back to the mini bar, you grabbed another.
“So,” Jensen said, trying to hard to be casual, and strolled over to where you were standing. “Can I ask you something else?”
“What?”
“It's personal.”
You looked at him, exasperated and tired. “What, Jensen?”
“Do you, uh… I mean, are you in love with Dean?”
The question made you snort a laugh and sigh. “I’m not going to answer that.”
“Why?”
“Because it's personal.”
“Yeah, but see, in my world, Dean is mine. He’s me, in some form. And in my world, the show is ending. I have to say goodbye to him soon. This whole thing, which I'm still not convinced isn’t some kind of bad fever dream, or I don’t know… feels more like a bad acid trip, but either way, it's happening. It happened right before we finished up the show. For good.”
“Oh,” you said, and suddenly worried what may happen after that. “If you end the show… what happens here? Do we keep going?”
“God I hope so,” he sighed. For the first time since the entire debacle started, you felt an odd connection with him. Maybe it was that the expression he wore, it looked the most like Dean's, even with the beard and country club look. “When we film that last episode, just knowing that Dean Winchester is still out there, somewhere, living his best life with his brother, his car and his best girl at his side…” Jensen trailed off and shrugged. “That would make it just a little bit easier to close that chapter of my life and move on.”
His words hung in the air and seemed to suck the breath from your lips. The weight of all that was going on finally hit you hard enough to have to hold onto the bar for support. Jensen wanted to know if you loved Dean. It wasn’t something you and he had ever said, but you always felt it from him.
“It's okay,” he continued. “You don’t have to answer.”
“Yes,” you replied suddenly and before you could stop yourself. “I do love him. I think I have from the minute I met him.”
Jensen’s face softened, and he tried to hide his grin, but you saw it anyway.
“And you guys… you’re happy?” he asked.
“I mean, yeah? He drives me crazy constantly, drinks too much, drives too fast, is reckless on hunts, always uses all the hot water and is very bossy. But, yeah. I’m happy. I wouldn’t want anyone else.”
Before Jensen could speak, the sound of fluttering wings filled your ears. You turned around quickly, ready to pounce in case it wasn’t Castiel. That’s when you saw her, her upper arm held firmly in Castiel’s grip.
“Anael, I presume,” you said, trying to keep yourself calm.
She didn’t reply but just stared daggers into you.
“Yes, Y/N. This is Anael,” Castiel answered for her.
You casually turned back to Jensen and saw the look on his face. He was both scared and captivated, unable to take his eyes off the angel in front of him.
“That’s your wife?” you whispered.
“Well, that’s what she looks like,” he said and swallowed thickly. “But that ain’t her.”
His eyes grew wide as Anael tried to bring herself up at full power, but Cast was able to reel her back in before she could blind both you and Jensen.
“Enough, Anael!”
“Fine,” she sighed. “What do you want?”
“I want my boys back!” you yelled, but she wasn't scared, she just laughed.
“Ok. As soon as Castiel agrees to help me. It's pretty simple.” She was cocky, just like you remembered the angels being. It made you want to find the closest angel blade and use it to wipe the smirk off of her face.
“Fine. He’ll help you. Now go get them and put this one back where he belongs,” you motioned towards Jensen who stepped behind the safety of the mini bar and continued to watch it all play out.
“Y/N,” Castiel commanded. “I will not help her. What she wants to do--”
“I don’t CARE!” your voice roared through the cave, bouncing off the concrete walls and piercing through the angel’s ears. Turning your sight onto Anael, you walked closer to her, and without asking or warning, you slipped your hand into Castiel’s coat and retrieved the angel blade that you knew lived there. Before he could grab it back, you had it at her throat, pressing it taut against her host’s skin.
“Go ahead, then see how easy it is for you to get your precious boys home. Then you’ll just be stuck with that one over there. The one who only pretends to be Dean Winchester.”
“You know what, red? Here’s what you’re gonna do. Knock off the bullshit, go retrieve Sam and Dean wherever the hell you stashed them. Then, return Jensen back to his rightful place. Only then, will you get what you want.”
“Hmm, I don’t think so,” she said, still very calm and collected. “Simple trade. I get Castiel’s word he backs me in Heaven, and you get the Winchesters back. He ”
“And, me?” Jensen asked, raising his hand halfway up. “What happens to me.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Anael said and winked at him. “I’ll be sure you get home safely. Just as soon as Castiel gives me what I want.”
“I don’t owe you anything, Anael,” Castiel replied stoically.
“Don't you? Remember when that little Nephilim problem was out of control? I helped you find a way to talk to God. And God returned, didn’t he? He came in time to stop that Nephilim from destroying the world. Sure, it got us put in a Heavenly time out for the last couple of years. But, I helped you. Now, it's your turn.”
“If I remember, I gave you jewelry--”
“Listen here, you bitch…” you growled, pushing the blade down on her harder ignoring their pointless banter. “I don’t give a shit about what Castiel owes you. You will go and retrieve Sam and Dean or I will make sure you suffer.”
“Do you really think calling me names is the way to get what you want?” she laughed despite the gash of light that was starting to form on her throat.
“Look me in the eye and see if I give a shit. Now. Bring them back, or I slit your throat. Then, I’ll make it my mission to hunt down every angel in heaven, even if that means booking myself a one-way ticket up there just to torture all of you feathered dickheads. Or, you could just return them, send Jensen home and I will see what I can do about getting Castiel to assist your mission.”
You immediately gave Castiel a warning look to just stay quiet. The tension in the room was thick with animosity, as you and Anael held each other’s gaze; one waiting for the other to break. It took more than a minute, but Anael must have weight her options, and you saw her expression falter.
“Fine. Release me, Castiel. You can take the blade away, honey. I’ll go retrieve your boys. This was fun for a while but honestly, it's just sort of pathetic now.”
You reluctantly took the blade from her throat and stepped back. You gave Castiel a slight nod and he let go of Anael’s arm. She smoothed out her clothes and primped her hair before looking from face to face.
“Give me a moment, I’ll be back with the boys. You,” she said and pointed at Jensen, “Let’s go.”
Before you could say another word, Anael and Jensen were both gone. A second went by, the bunker lights flickered off and on rapidly, finally sending the emergency lights back on. The red glow in the cave gave it an ominous atmosphere causing a moment of panic to settle in. It lasted only a minute, and the lights corrected themselves just as there were two loud thumps that came from the hallway.
You and Castiel just looked at each other, then turned your heads in unison towards the door to the cave. You could hear movement coming from the other side. Unsure of what it could be, you handed Castiel back his blade and withdrew your gun from your jacket one more time. The handle started to turn, both you and the angel ready to fight if need be.
As soon as it pushed open all the way, light from the hallway trickled in and you could see Dean and Sam’s silhouettes against it. Overcome with relief, you laid your weapon down on the foosball table and jumped into Dean's arms.
“Holy Hell… baby, it's good to see you,” he breathed, burying his face into your neck. His arms were hooked around your waist and he had no plans of letting go.
“Sam, Dean… are you alright?” Castiel asked, and began to look Sam over.
“We’re fine, Cas. It's good to see you,” Sam huffed, and grabbed Castiel’s shoulder, giving him a familiar squeeze. “Been a while, huh?”
“I’m sorry it was under these circumstances. Anael--”
“There’s time for that later, Cas,” you said and looked back up at Dean. “Where were you?”
“I don’t even know… it was… weird. I mean, even for us, weird.”
“Weird how?”
Sam rubbed his arm and looked like he’d just been through it. “It was awful. We were in this place… another damn TV Show. We thought it was the trickster at first.”
“Was it Supernatural?” you asked, and they both looked at you curiously.
“No, not this time… How did you…?”
“Another long story,” you said with a sigh of relief.
“It was this place called Stars Hollow. Apparently, I was Dean,” Sam snorted, “and this one… they kept calling him Jess…”
“We had to smile at people constantly. One day there I feel I’ve been bad touched all over,” Dean groaned. “Seriously, I need a shower.” He looked up at Castiel really seeing him for the first time. “Cas… it's good to see you.”
Dean embraced his old friend quickly, then immediately returned to you and pulled you into him again, holding you tight like you were his anchor holding him bound to where he belonged.
“Good to see all of you. I guess, all things considered, maybe I should start coming around more often. With Anael in the wind…” he shrugged.
“You shouldn’t have left,” Dean said quietly. “You’re family, Cas,” Dean said and squeezed you tighter against him. “You’re our family. Right guys?”
You and Sam both agreed and the angel blushed. “Thank you. After everything ended… I just needed time.”
“Understandable. But now, you’re back. So stick around a while, alright? I owe my girl here a night out, and then we can get into all those long stories you two seem to have.”
“That can wait, Dean.”
He gazed down at you, his eyes soften and his smile warm. “It can’t. I didn’t know if I’d see you again, and that killed me. Right now answers sound great, but being alone with you sounds better.”
You knew when to argue and when not too. Now was not the time. “Ok.”
Dean kissed the top of your head and turned to his brother. “Sammy, you gonna be alright?”
“Yeah man, you and Y/N go out, unwind. We’ll all compare notes tomorrow. That shower sounds like a good idea.”
Giving both Sam and Cas a hug, you and Dean walked out of the cave and down the corridor of the bunker. You couldn’t help but stare at him, and then remember Jensen. They really were physically identical, and yet it amazed you at how different they were.
Dean felt your eyes on him and scowled. “What?”
“Nothing,” you said then proceeded to slowly look him up and down. “Have you ever thought about playing golf? I’d be you look really freaking cute in those shorts.”
“What? No! You hit your head or something?”
“No, concussion-free. Just got to thinking…”
“Well stop it. Unless you’re thinking about how you can make that up to me later. Golf… she says.” Dean shook his head and grabbed your hand, pulling you close and ushering you down the hall and out of the bunker for your long-awaited night out.
I absolutely adore the bunker! I want to live there ❤️
It’s the inspiration for this writing challenge to celebrate my new URL and just how wonderful it’s been to start this new blog after the purge.
Guidelines
-submissions due June 18th
-500 word minimum. Please use the keep reading feature.
-send me an Ask with room choice and character you will be writing
-you can write any ship or pairing you want including RPF (reverse French Mistake anyone?)
-smut, fluff, angst, or any combination of these
-Tag #plaidsbunkerchallenge
-Following me would be nice
Rooms are Below
Two people per room. Your room choice should feature prominently in your fic. Some are rooms we’ve seen. Some are rooms we haven’t seen but we know they’re there. Some are rooms that it would be awesome if they were there. Feel free to redecorate or create your own room that isn’t on this list.
-War Room
-Library @gabby227 Dean @dontshootmespence Dean or Cas or Sam
-Archives @peridottea91 Sam @idabbleincrazy Sam and Gabriel/w OFC
-Firing Range @crashdevlin Dean @endless-wingspan Destiel
-Dungeon @wingedcatninja Dean @sammit-janet Sam
-Dean’s Bedroom @evansrogerskitten Dean @roxyspearing Jensen
-Sam’s Bedroom @mariekoukie6661 Sam
-Kitchen @myinconnelly1 Sam and Dean @aihoshiduo Sam and Dean
-Dean Cave @coffee-obsessed-writer Jensen @dean-winchesters-bacon Sam and Dean
-Infirmary @thedreamsmith Sam @supernatural-took-me-over Sam
-Garage @alleiradayne Dean
-Gym @fandomsrourlives Sam @thoughtslikeaminefield Sam and Dean
-Music Room @a-mess-of-many-fandoms Sam @princessofthefandomrealm Sam
-Bathroom @maddiepants Dean @sweetness47 Sam
-Closet @takikojou Sam @waywardbaby Dean
-Playroom @ladywinchester1967 Dean @heycasbutt Sam
-Nursery @tumbler-tidbits Dean @anotherwaywardsister Dean
-Secret Passage/Hidden Room @blushingjared Sam and Dean @girl-next-door-writes Sam or Crowley
this is for @samwinchesterbingo for the Plot? what plot? square, and for @idreamofplaid for her #plaidsbunkerchallenge (bathroom), and for @spnkinkbingo for the Shower Sex square
Pairing Sam x reader
final word count: 998
rating: EXPLICIT!!!! LOTS OF SMUT AND SUCH!!! IF YOU ARE NOT 18+ THEN DO NOT READ THIS!!!
Summary: What truly happens when Sam’s curiosity and his insane attraction to you finally cross?
I was getting ready for bed. Didn’t think much of it, we’d just got home from a hunt, and I was covered in mud and all sorts of nasty additions. I felt like I had just crawled through a sewer. The shower was my first destination after walking through that door, a very long shower. I was determined to scrub my skin raw, ensuring every inch of filth was gone. Then I was probably going to burn my clothes. (Like I said, nasty stuff.)
I grabbed some fresh towels, and headed for the large shower by my room. It was a small version of a locker room shower, but I enjoyed the space, it wasn’t so cramped and stuffy. It was a fair way off from the boys’ rooms, just the way I liked it. They minded their own business, and I minded mine.
What I didn’t count on was Sam ignoring that rule.
I was already in the water when he quietly came in to the shower area. He had removed his shoes and socks, his bare feet not making a sound on the cold pavement. He quickly shed his clothing, then came up behind me, grabbing my hips and grinding his erection into me. Before I could scream, he put his hand to my lips and whispered, “It’s Sam.”
I whirled around in shock, only to have his lips crush mine, his tongue diving past my lips, teasing my own tongue into submission. I moaned, my arms wrapping around his neck. His response was to growl, reaching between us to my pussy, caressing my lips with his finger, and teasing my clit. I bucked under his expert touch, and he slid two fingers inside my wet center, and I cried out, coming instantly. He wasn’t even close to done, kneeling down to taste my juices, his tongue flicking out and lapping up the sweet nectar.
He hoisted my legs up to his shoulders, giving him more access to my soaked cunt. His mouth greedily began sucking my sensitive bud, while his fingers once again began thrusting in and out of me, it was a high like I’ve never experienced. He removed his fingers so he could use his tongue in their place, humming as he licked and sucked at my folds. Another climax slammed through me, I was sure I’d died and gone to heaven.
Yet he still wasn’t done.
“Why Sam? Why now?” I managed to ask breathlessly.
His eyes were dark, lustful, and his voice was equally so. “YN, you are constantly haunting my dreams. You’re all I think about. I’ve wanted this for a long time.” Then he set me back down and stood, looking me in the eye. “Unless you want me to stop.”
I managed to shake my head and squeak out a “No.” That was the last of the talking.
His body pressed mine against the wall, and his hands lifted me up, then lowered me onto his hard shaft. I groaned as he slowly made his way in, stretching me, gloriously I might add, and my reactions caused him to moan. God he felt so good!
“So fucking tight, YN.” he whispered as he nipped my ear. His tongue trailed hot down my neck and shoulders as he finally bottomed out, then we both waited, panting, our bodies overwhelmed with the intensity of the union.
Then Sam began to move. And I realized one thing.
The moment before? When I had mentioned heaven? That wasn’t it.
This was.
I gasped as he began to thrust his cock into me, impaling me over and over, hands grabbing my hips as he set a fast pace. His body screamed for release, and he intended on getting it. Another ripple of pleasure shocks had my entire being singing the Hallelujah chorus as he managed to angle just right, his tip hitting that oh-so-sweet spot. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I leaned against the wet ceramic tile, giving Sam the opportunity to explore my other sensitive buds, the mounds of milky white flesh that begged to be squeezed and nibbled. And he did.
He reached with one hand to caress one breast, while his mouth captured the nipple of the other. His teeth tortured the areola, getting it hard, then his tongue circled around the hardened peak. My fingers dug into his hair, determined to keep him there. I wanted this feeling to last forever. His fingers twisted and played with the other one, his thumb flicking it lightly as his tongue had done wit the other. Again I found my body building to another climax. Damn, this man knew how to push my buttons, and I wasn’t complaining.
Then he dropped the boob obsession, and continued to pound into my cunt. Harder and harder, faster it seemed, having a need there to find his release. And he did. He cried out my name as he came, his seed shooting into my womb, filling it. We both took a minute to find our bearings, then he gently lifted me off his semi-soft cock and back to my own two feet. He grabbed my body wash, and began to lather it, then he washed my entire body from the neck down, every inch, every crack, every muscle. We didn’t leave that shower for a very, VERY, long time.
I became his obsession, his woman. Only his. He never looked at another, and I didn’t either. There was only him and I. What more did we need?
