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Jun. 18th, 2006 06:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
why_me_why_notTitle: Insatiable
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
why_me_why_not
Fandom/Pairing: SPN, Sam/Dean/OFC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2600
Warnings: wincest with a girl thrown in
Summary: um, PWP, no summary available at this time
Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters. And I don't own Athena -- she belongs toacostilow
Beta: the lovely and talentedanael; remaining mistakes are all mine
A/N: Written foracostilow to go in her Athenaverse and follow up Not-Normal Life. Title comes from the Darren Hayes song I was listening to when we first started discussing this, and I'd upload it for you if I was on my own computer. Yes, I'm still whining about that.
Dean finishes his beer as the song changes, and he notices how both Athena and Sam adjust the way their bodies move to fit the new rhythm. The two of them are so in synch, just like always, and Dean wonders (not for the first time) if they have some bond he should be jealous of, maybe something built on their powers. Then Sam catches his eye and he remembers that he has power of his own, and Sam's still completely his, and they're still DeanandSam. Just for the weekend, though, they're DeanandSam and Athena. She's part of them too; in an abstract way she's part of who they are to each other, but their relationship with her defines something Dean doesn't comprehend. Still, despite the connection, there's space between her and the boys, space that'll never exist between the two of them.
Sam's watching Dean from across the room, keeps his eyes locked with his brother's as he lowers his head and places a kiss on the curve of Athena's neck. Though it's still a soft kiss, it's a world apart from the quick, friendly kisses they had been exchanging, and it's almost like someone's flipped a switch on the mood in the room, because suddenly Dean can feel the tension in the air and his body responds instantly. Then Sam closes his eyes and leans his head back, and Dean realizes that between the shadows of the club and how closely she and Sam are pressed together, he can't see Athena's hands. But he can imagine. He knows the feel of those hands. Knows even better the breathy moans that Sam's biting his lip to try and stop, sounds that he wants to taste, to capture with his own mouth sliding over Sam's.
Dean's up and halfway across the bar before he even realizes he's moving. When he presses up against Athena's back, she shifts her weight just slightly, and when she adjusts her movement to accommodate Dean, Sam does so too, automatically, even though his eyes are still closed. Dean slides his hands over Athena's curves -- the softness of her skin, the way it gives under his touch, is familiar and exotic at the same time; it's not new but it's not Sam.
Dean slides one of his hands down between Athena's thighs, then back up slowly, coming to a stop on the lower part of her belly, pulling her closer to him.
Sam's body is angled perfectly, instinctively, to block Athena's hands from the view of the other club patrons, but Dean can see now that they're right where he expected. He fights the urge to replace one of them with his larger, more callused one. He knows the contrast in the touches would drive Sam wild; it always does. But if he touches Sam now, here, things will quickly get out of control, and even though Dean's never worried about what other people think, he doesn't want to share his brother and Athena with everyone.
So he settles for threading his fingers roughly through Sam's hair, making sure Sam's looking directly at him when his eyes open.
"Hi." Sam's voice is quiet, the grin on his lips full of mock innocence, but in his eyes Dean can read every fucking thing Sam doesn't say.
"I wanna fuck you." Dean had long since given up on attempting tact. He knows just the right tone to use, how to roll the words off his tongue in a way that transforms them from crude vulgarities to alluring promises.
Sam laughs, and Dean's struck by how beautiful and right the sound is -- Sam should always be that happy -- before his attention is drawn away by Sam's hand ghosting over his side, the heat of his palm seeping through the fabric. Dean wants to feel that heat elsewhere, and he's caught up in his distracted thoughts when Sam asks, "Her or me?"
"Her," Dean says, just because he wants to see the flash of something -- anger/hurt/confusion -- in Sam's eyes. "You. Both. We've got all night."
"We've got all weekend," Athena corrects lazily, tilting her head so she can lick the side of Dean's neck.
"Yeah, but you're making me breakfast in the morning, so for Round One we've got all night. Now, can we move this little party upstairs or are you giving your customers a special treat tonight?"
Athena slides her hands from Sam's pants and tugs the edge of his shirt down over his undone fly. She nods at one of the men behind the bar, a gesture that Dean recognizes as her silently letting them know she's leaving, and pulls away from Dean, taking each boy by the hand as they weave their way through the throng on the dance floor to the doorway in the back. Dean notices the other people on the floor, the way they press and writhe against one another, and against them as they make their way through, but their touches don't excite him near as much as the anticipation of what's to come.
Once they make it inside the apartment, Athena catches Dean off guard as she turns and pushes him against the wall. He'd forgotten how strong she was, but doesn't have time to think about it as he melts into her kiss. She tastes like sweet promises and hot memories, and a little bit like Sam, underneath it all, where she'd been kissing/licking/nibbling on him all evening. Okay, so that part may be Dean's imagination, but he likes the idea of it, so it stays.
He reverses their positions so she's backed against the wall, the fingers of one hand threading through her hair as their tongues slide against each other, the langourous kisses punctuated by playful nips. With his other hand he fumbles with the buttons on Athena's shirt, flicking them open roughly, almost by memory (at one time, the shirt had belonged to Sam, and Dean had quickly become an expert at getting Sam naked). He pulls away from Athena's lips and kisses his way along the side of her jaw, down her throat, to nuzzle between the arch of her breasts, the flaps of the shirt hanging around either side of him like loose curtains.
He bites down on one of her nipples through the fabric of her bra, feeling smug when her whole body arches against him as he does. Dean uses one of his hands to hold Athena against the wall, trying to keep her still, and slides the other under the edge of her skirt, up her thigh.
No panties.
She's been teasing them all night, dancing with Sam, flirting with Dean, and in Dean's mind it's all the hotter because she was pantiless the entire time. She's hot and wet, and the moan she lets out when Dean slides a finger into her soft folds dispels any half-baked notion that Dean had of making this last. Tonight is about hot and fast and Dean wants to bury himself inside her. Now.
When Dean straightens up, he senses Sam behind him before he feels him.
"God, Dean, I love it when you get so uncontrolled." Sam's voice is too rough to be a whisper and too low to be anything else, and the way it rumbles over him makes Dean think that maybe Sam is somehow tapping into his emotions, or maybe Sam just knows him too well. "I wanna watch you fuck her, right here, against the wall. Is that what you want?"
Dean doesn't have to answer, because there's obviously only one possible response to that question, but he couldn't even if he wanted to because Sam's hands are at his belt, unclasping the buckle, flicking open the button, sliding down the zipper so that Sam can slide his hand inside -- that warm heat Dean was craving earlier is now pressed against his cock and it takes a huge amount of self control not to buck up against Sam's hand and let it all go, but Dean manages. While Dean's pushing up Athena's skirt, Sam's pushing down Dean's jeans and boxers, jacking his cock a few times with a firm hand as Dean helps lift Athena off the ground a bit. Sam hand stays wrapped around the base of Dean's cock as he slides into her, her legs coming up to wrap around his waist.
Sam's got his other hand on Athena's ass, pulling her closer to him even as he presses tighter against Dean, pushing Dean deeper inside her and both of them harder against the wall. For a moment, Dean doesn't move; he's caught up in a world of contrast all his own. There's something about being pressed between Sam and Athena, and he knows that if it were Sam that he'd have all these poetic, five-dollar-words to describe the feeling and the contrast, but all Dean can think of is "hard" and "soft". And "hot", because it most definitely is, especially with Dean at the center of the attention.
"Dean," Athena whispers, catching his mouth with hers as she begins to move against him, and if that wasn't enough...
"C'mon, man," Sam's words are leaking out around licks and bites to Dean's neck, "fuck her." Dean can feel Sam, the rough denim and the cold zipper of his still-undone fly and the hard on beneath pressing against his ass.
Dean's a smart boy; he does what he's told.
Each of Dean's thrusts is met with a high-pitched, incoherent sound from Athena and a growled word of encouragement from Sam. Sam's got one hand on Dean's hip, just underneath Athena's leg, fingers pressed hard enough that Dean knows there will be bruises, and his other hand is still on Athena, like he's the force holding the two of the together, or like he's somehow soaking up their pleasure through a twisted form of osmosis. It'd be so like Sam to get off like that, and the thought makes Dean speed up because he wants to be the one to get Sam off.
He knows Athena's close by the broken, pleading quality to her breaths and moans and sighs, and all it takes is for Dean to dig his teeth into the soft skin at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, and as the teasing taste of blood tickles his tongue, he feels her tighten around him. He's coming down from the thought that there's a surefire way to get her off when Sam plays a card of his own.
"Dean, I'm gonna fuck you so hard you're gonna forget everything but my name." Sam's voice, quiet and confident and laced with equal amounts of threat and promise, is all it takes to push Dean over the edge.
He bites down again, harder, to stifle his own moan when he comes, and he's rewarded with a scream from Athena as the crest another orgasm hits her before the first one's finished.
All three of them are breathing heavy as Dean slides out of Athena and helps her bring her feet back down to the floor. Stray tendrils of hair are sticking across her forehead from the sweat, and Sam pushes them back gently as he runs a hand over each of their bodies, trying to help steady them. After a few moments, Dean says, "I think we all have too many clothes on," and twists away to start stripping. Sam and Athena follow suit, and Dean grabs Sam's wrist and pulls him in the direction of the bed that seems to take up the entire center of the room (Athena's got her priorities pretty straight; Dean admires that). "And that whole 'fucking me so hard' thing you mentioned? It'll have to wait, because right now I wanna taste you."
Dean pushes Sam down on the bed, sprawled and naked and dammit, if that's not the most amazing sight he's ever seen -- if he ever went blind, this is the image he'd want in his mind for the rest of eternity. Dean reaches for Athena's hand and as he lays down on one side of Sam he pulls her down on the opposite one.
"God, Sammy, you..." Dean can't find the words, so he leans down and kisses Sam, moaning into his mouth, and brings his and Athena's still-joined hands to wrap around Sam's cock.
He licks a trail down Sam's body, his hand sliding along with Athena's, lightly and slowly along Sam's cock. Athena's opposite him, tracing the same type of trail, her long hair wisping ever so slightly over Sam's skin (Dean knows how tantalizing that feeling is), and Dean can feel Sam struggling not to squirm beneath their ministrations. Dean reaches the curve of Sam's hip and bites down hard enough to leave a mark. He doesn't have to look to know that Athena's done the same thing on Sam's other hip; maybe he was wrong about the bond -- maybe it included all three of them.
Athena meets his gaze with a wicked grin, and they both slide their tongues up opposite sides of Sam's cock, meeting at the head and brushing over each other. They both lean forward, tongues sliding against each other and against Sam as they kiss and lick and breathe out whispered moans against each others mouths and around the head of Sam's cock. Dean loves the noises Sam makes, the whimpers and the gasps and the pleas, and it's almost a shame that they're muffled when Athena pulls away from Sam's cock and Dean's mouth and moves back up the bed to lap up the sounds that are entirely Sammy.
Dean wraps his lip around the head of Sam's cock and takes it in, the hand he has wrapped around Sam's cock sliding up and twisting a bit with each bob of his head. He presses his tongue against and around as he sucks, moaning at the taste and the scent and the pleasure of Sam and the way he cants his hips to meet Dean's mouth. He knows what Sam wants, what he's asking for, as if it were a silent command, and he moves his hand faster, presses his tongue harder, gives more... Dean can feel Sam tense up just before he comes, and the salty splash of Sam slides over his tongue as he works to swallow it down, savoring it. He keeps pumping his hand, slower and more gently, until he feels Sam's whole body basically go boneless beneath him, and then pulls away and moves up to lay his head beside Sam's. Athena lays down on the other side.
For a short time, the only sound in the room is their slowing breathing as the three of them lay there bestowing languid caresses on each other. Dean's eyes are closed until he feels the weight on the bed shift, and when he looks, Sam and Athena are again sharing those kisses that he's not part of and that's just wrong.
"Hey, you two, I was willing to put up with the cuddling, but if we're going to get back to the fun stuff, I think someone promised to fuck me."
Sam laughs. "So it's all about you, then?"
"Sammy, it's always all about me," Dean answers with a smirk just before he's blindsided with the pillow Athena swats at his head.
The three of them all pause for a minute and then the bed erupts in a flurry of pillows and feathers and laughter, and Dean's okay with that too, because pillow fights and tickling can be foreplay too.
Author:
why_me_why_notFandom/Pairing: SPN, Sam/Dean/OFC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2600
Warnings: wincest with a girl thrown in
Summary: um, PWP, no summary available at this time
Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters. And I don't own Athena -- she belongs to
acostilowBeta: the lovely and talented
anael; remaining mistakes are all mineA/N: Written for
acostilow to go in her Athenaverse and follow up Not-Normal Life. Title comes from the Darren Hayes song I was listening to when we first started discussing this, and I'd upload it for you if I was on my own computer. Yes, I'm still whining about that. Dean finishes his beer as the song changes, and he notices how both Athena and Sam adjust the way their bodies move to fit the new rhythm. The two of them are so in synch, just like always, and Dean wonders (not for the first time) if they have some bond he should be jealous of, maybe something built on their powers. Then Sam catches his eye and he remembers that he has power of his own, and Sam's still completely his, and they're still DeanandSam. Just for the weekend, though, they're DeanandSam and Athena. She's part of them too; in an abstract way she's part of who they are to each other, but their relationship with her defines something Dean doesn't comprehend. Still, despite the connection, there's space between her and the boys, space that'll never exist between the two of them.
Sam's watching Dean from across the room, keeps his eyes locked with his brother's as he lowers his head and places a kiss on the curve of Athena's neck. Though it's still a soft kiss, it's a world apart from the quick, friendly kisses they had been exchanging, and it's almost like someone's flipped a switch on the mood in the room, because suddenly Dean can feel the tension in the air and his body responds instantly. Then Sam closes his eyes and leans his head back, and Dean realizes that between the shadows of the club and how closely she and Sam are pressed together, he can't see Athena's hands. But he can imagine. He knows the feel of those hands. Knows even better the breathy moans that Sam's biting his lip to try and stop, sounds that he wants to taste, to capture with his own mouth sliding over Sam's.
Dean's up and halfway across the bar before he even realizes he's moving. When he presses up against Athena's back, she shifts her weight just slightly, and when she adjusts her movement to accommodate Dean, Sam does so too, automatically, even though his eyes are still closed. Dean slides his hands over Athena's curves -- the softness of her skin, the way it gives under his touch, is familiar and exotic at the same time; it's not new but it's not Sam.
Dean slides one of his hands down between Athena's thighs, then back up slowly, coming to a stop on the lower part of her belly, pulling her closer to him.
Sam's body is angled perfectly, instinctively, to block Athena's hands from the view of the other club patrons, but Dean can see now that they're right where he expected. He fights the urge to replace one of them with his larger, more callused one. He knows the contrast in the touches would drive Sam wild; it always does. But if he touches Sam now, here, things will quickly get out of control, and even though Dean's never worried about what other people think, he doesn't want to share his brother and Athena with everyone.
So he settles for threading his fingers roughly through Sam's hair, making sure Sam's looking directly at him when his eyes open.
"Hi." Sam's voice is quiet, the grin on his lips full of mock innocence, but in his eyes Dean can read every fucking thing Sam doesn't say.
"I wanna fuck you." Dean had long since given up on attempting tact. He knows just the right tone to use, how to roll the words off his tongue in a way that transforms them from crude vulgarities to alluring promises.
Sam laughs, and Dean's struck by how beautiful and right the sound is -- Sam should always be that happy -- before his attention is drawn away by Sam's hand ghosting over his side, the heat of his palm seeping through the fabric. Dean wants to feel that heat elsewhere, and he's caught up in his distracted thoughts when Sam asks, "Her or me?"
"Her," Dean says, just because he wants to see the flash of something -- anger/hurt/confusion -- in Sam's eyes. "You. Both. We've got all night."
"We've got all weekend," Athena corrects lazily, tilting her head so she can lick the side of Dean's neck.
"Yeah, but you're making me breakfast in the morning, so for Round One we've got all night. Now, can we move this little party upstairs or are you giving your customers a special treat tonight?"
Athena slides her hands from Sam's pants and tugs the edge of his shirt down over his undone fly. She nods at one of the men behind the bar, a gesture that Dean recognizes as her silently letting them know she's leaving, and pulls away from Dean, taking each boy by the hand as they weave their way through the throng on the dance floor to the doorway in the back. Dean notices the other people on the floor, the way they press and writhe against one another, and against them as they make their way through, but their touches don't excite him near as much as the anticipation of what's to come.
Once they make it inside the apartment, Athena catches Dean off guard as she turns and pushes him against the wall. He'd forgotten how strong she was, but doesn't have time to think about it as he melts into her kiss. She tastes like sweet promises and hot memories, and a little bit like Sam, underneath it all, where she'd been kissing/licking/nibbling on him all evening. Okay, so that part may be Dean's imagination, but he likes the idea of it, so it stays.
He reverses their positions so she's backed against the wall, the fingers of one hand threading through her hair as their tongues slide against each other, the langourous kisses punctuated by playful nips. With his other hand he fumbles with the buttons on Athena's shirt, flicking them open roughly, almost by memory (at one time, the shirt had belonged to Sam, and Dean had quickly become an expert at getting Sam naked). He pulls away from Athena's lips and kisses his way along the side of her jaw, down her throat, to nuzzle between the arch of her breasts, the flaps of the shirt hanging around either side of him like loose curtains.
He bites down on one of her nipples through the fabric of her bra, feeling smug when her whole body arches against him as he does. Dean uses one of his hands to hold Athena against the wall, trying to keep her still, and slides the other under the edge of her skirt, up her thigh.
No panties.
She's been teasing them all night, dancing with Sam, flirting with Dean, and in Dean's mind it's all the hotter because she was pantiless the entire time. She's hot and wet, and the moan she lets out when Dean slides a finger into her soft folds dispels any half-baked notion that Dean had of making this last. Tonight is about hot and fast and Dean wants to bury himself inside her. Now.
When Dean straightens up, he senses Sam behind him before he feels him.
"God, Dean, I love it when you get so uncontrolled." Sam's voice is too rough to be a whisper and too low to be anything else, and the way it rumbles over him makes Dean think that maybe Sam is somehow tapping into his emotions, or maybe Sam just knows him too well. "I wanna watch you fuck her, right here, against the wall. Is that what you want?"
Dean doesn't have to answer, because there's obviously only one possible response to that question, but he couldn't even if he wanted to because Sam's hands are at his belt, unclasping the buckle, flicking open the button, sliding down the zipper so that Sam can slide his hand inside -- that warm heat Dean was craving earlier is now pressed against his cock and it takes a huge amount of self control not to buck up against Sam's hand and let it all go, but Dean manages. While Dean's pushing up Athena's skirt, Sam's pushing down Dean's jeans and boxers, jacking his cock a few times with a firm hand as Dean helps lift Athena off the ground a bit. Sam hand stays wrapped around the base of Dean's cock as he slides into her, her legs coming up to wrap around his waist.
Sam's got his other hand on Athena's ass, pulling her closer to him even as he presses tighter against Dean, pushing Dean deeper inside her and both of them harder against the wall. For a moment, Dean doesn't move; he's caught up in a world of contrast all his own. There's something about being pressed between Sam and Athena, and he knows that if it were Sam that he'd have all these poetic, five-dollar-words to describe the feeling and the contrast, but all Dean can think of is "hard" and "soft". And "hot", because it most definitely is, especially with Dean at the center of the attention.
"Dean," Athena whispers, catching his mouth with hers as she begins to move against him, and if that wasn't enough...
"C'mon, man," Sam's words are leaking out around licks and bites to Dean's neck, "fuck her." Dean can feel Sam, the rough denim and the cold zipper of his still-undone fly and the hard on beneath pressing against his ass.
Dean's a smart boy; he does what he's told.
Each of Dean's thrusts is met with a high-pitched, incoherent sound from Athena and a growled word of encouragement from Sam. Sam's got one hand on Dean's hip, just underneath Athena's leg, fingers pressed hard enough that Dean knows there will be bruises, and his other hand is still on Athena, like he's the force holding the two of the together, or like he's somehow soaking up their pleasure through a twisted form of osmosis. It'd be so like Sam to get off like that, and the thought makes Dean speed up because he wants to be the one to get Sam off.
He knows Athena's close by the broken, pleading quality to her breaths and moans and sighs, and all it takes is for Dean to dig his teeth into the soft skin at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, and as the teasing taste of blood tickles his tongue, he feels her tighten around him. He's coming down from the thought that there's a surefire way to get her off when Sam plays a card of his own.
"Dean, I'm gonna fuck you so hard you're gonna forget everything but my name." Sam's voice, quiet and confident and laced with equal amounts of threat and promise, is all it takes to push Dean over the edge.
He bites down again, harder, to stifle his own moan when he comes, and he's rewarded with a scream from Athena as the crest another orgasm hits her before the first one's finished.
All three of them are breathing heavy as Dean slides out of Athena and helps her bring her feet back down to the floor. Stray tendrils of hair are sticking across her forehead from the sweat, and Sam pushes them back gently as he runs a hand over each of their bodies, trying to help steady them. After a few moments, Dean says, "I think we all have too many clothes on," and twists away to start stripping. Sam and Athena follow suit, and Dean grabs Sam's wrist and pulls him in the direction of the bed that seems to take up the entire center of the room (Athena's got her priorities pretty straight; Dean admires that). "And that whole 'fucking me so hard' thing you mentioned? It'll have to wait, because right now I wanna taste you."
Dean pushes Sam down on the bed, sprawled and naked and dammit, if that's not the most amazing sight he's ever seen -- if he ever went blind, this is the image he'd want in his mind for the rest of eternity. Dean reaches for Athena's hand and as he lays down on one side of Sam he pulls her down on the opposite one.
"God, Sammy, you..." Dean can't find the words, so he leans down and kisses Sam, moaning into his mouth, and brings his and Athena's still-joined hands to wrap around Sam's cock.
He licks a trail down Sam's body, his hand sliding along with Athena's, lightly and slowly along Sam's cock. Athena's opposite him, tracing the same type of trail, her long hair wisping ever so slightly over Sam's skin (Dean knows how tantalizing that feeling is), and Dean can feel Sam struggling not to squirm beneath their ministrations. Dean reaches the curve of Sam's hip and bites down hard enough to leave a mark. He doesn't have to look to know that Athena's done the same thing on Sam's other hip; maybe he was wrong about the bond -- maybe it included all three of them.
Athena meets his gaze with a wicked grin, and they both slide their tongues up opposite sides of Sam's cock, meeting at the head and brushing over each other. They both lean forward, tongues sliding against each other and against Sam as they kiss and lick and breathe out whispered moans against each others mouths and around the head of Sam's cock. Dean loves the noises Sam makes, the whimpers and the gasps and the pleas, and it's almost a shame that they're muffled when Athena pulls away from Sam's cock and Dean's mouth and moves back up the bed to lap up the sounds that are entirely Sammy.
Dean wraps his lip around the head of Sam's cock and takes it in, the hand he has wrapped around Sam's cock sliding up and twisting a bit with each bob of his head. He presses his tongue against and around as he sucks, moaning at the taste and the scent and the pleasure of Sam and the way he cants his hips to meet Dean's mouth. He knows what Sam wants, what he's asking for, as if it were a silent command, and he moves his hand faster, presses his tongue harder, gives more... Dean can feel Sam tense up just before he comes, and the salty splash of Sam slides over his tongue as he works to swallow it down, savoring it. He keeps pumping his hand, slower and more gently, until he feels Sam's whole body basically go boneless beneath him, and then pulls away and moves up to lay his head beside Sam's. Athena lays down on the other side.
For a short time, the only sound in the room is their slowing breathing as the three of them lay there bestowing languid caresses on each other. Dean's eyes are closed until he feels the weight on the bed shift, and when he looks, Sam and Athena are again sharing those kisses that he's not part of and that's just wrong.
"Hey, you two, I was willing to put up with the cuddling, but if we're going to get back to the fun stuff, I think someone promised to fuck me."
Sam laughs. "So it's all about you, then?"
"Sammy, it's always all about me," Dean answers with a smirk just before he's blindsided with the pillow Athena swats at his head.
The three of them all pause for a minute and then the bed erupts in a flurry of pillows and feathers and laughter, and Dean's okay with that too, because pillow fights and tickling can be foreplay too.
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Date: 2006-06-19 01:42 pm (UTC)And I love you and if there is anything at all I can do for you, please please let me know.
*snuggles*