So, I've been toying with a story idea for a REALLY long time (like, 4 years). I'm finally kind of putting it down, but I just don't have the time. I've really wanted to get SOMETHING published, so I'm going to post this as a one-shot. I'm not entirely opposed to doing this as a collaborative series, so if you're interested hit me up. I'll give a little bit of background on the OC, Evangeline "Lennie" Kolin. All canon belongs to Eric Kripke and the wonderful Supernatual writers. Lennie and my headcanon/fic-canon are mine.
Lennie met the boys in the beginning of season four. She is from the alternate reality the boys go to in episode 6x15 "The French Mistake" (our reality). She was put there by the angels in order to protect her from the Demons, specifically Lilith. I don't want to give away too much, but this oneshot takes place at the end of episode 6x1 "Exile on Main Street". Lennie and Dean were together when Sam jumped into the cage, but they broke up because Lennie wasn't ready to do "normal". Not gonna lie, this is almost entirely very descriptive smut. Enjoy!
I've just fallen asleep when I feel Castiel. I haven't seen him in almost six weeks, his latest lead leaving me in Damascus to hunt down the head of John the Baptist, and at this point I'm done asking questions. I just do what he asks.
I open my eyes and sit up, face-to-face with Cas, whose cross legged at the end of my bedroll.
"Hi, Cas," I say, rubbing the back of my neck and yawning. "What's up?"
He cocks his head, then reaches up and pulls a piece of straw out of my hair. "I need you to go back to Sioux Falls. Things have changed," he says. I groan. "Cas, I'm so close! I'm pretty sure I know where the head is and I just need-" I start, probably louder than I need to.
"It's Dean. He knows about Sam," Cas says softly, and I suddenly can't speak around the lump in my throat. I take a moment, my eyes flitting over his face for any sign that this is some sort of really bad Angelic joke. I realize it's not and my chest deflates.
"Fine. When do I-"
Suddenly, I'm sitting on Bobby's front porch, my bags neatly packed and sitting next to me. Luckily Cas zapped some pants on me, even if they are covered in sand. I sigh, groaning as I stand up and turn to knock on the door. I smile at Bobby when he answers.
"Surprise!"
He looks at me for a moment, his eyebrows knit, before he finally sighs and shakes his head. "C'mon in. The boys are already here," he says. I nod, grabbing the duffles sitting on the porch. I squeeze my way in, dropping them at the foot of the stairs before turning to face the living room.
Dean is standing in the kitchen, and I can just make out Sam sitting at the table. My heart feels like it's going to explode when I see Dean, relief of seeing him alive and fear of the yelling match that's about to happen overloading my system. I take a deep breath and make my way across the living room.
Sam makes a move to stand but I raise my eyebrow in warning, knowing that ever since Sam got back he's been much more handsy, and insanely territorial. He gets the message, settling back down as I finally look at Dean.
"Where the hell have you been?" he says suddenly, gesturing to the sand. I shrug. "Northern Africa, India, Pakistan, Israel. I was in Damascus when Cas zapped me here," I say, tucking my hands into my pockets. He barely nods, then looks expectantly between Sam and I. I glance at Sam again, knowing how pissed off Dean is going to be when he finds out Sam came to me three days after he got back.
"Seriously? Seriously?!"
I look back up at Dean, feeling guilty. "Dean-" I start, but he cuts me off.
"No, don't even try it. Where the hell do you get off keeping this from me?" he demands, taking a step closer to me. I stand my ground.
"You wanted to be normal," I offer, knowing it's not good enough but not really caring either. He scoffs. "I wanted my brother back!" he says, his voice rising with every word. I glare back, stepping up to him.
"I found out about Sam three days after you left me for another woman, Dean! I had to tell him you chose her and her son over your damn soulmate! So screw you, asshole!" I yell. The only response is Dean's seething glare and Bobby shifting in his seat uncomfortably. Dean tilts his head, his glare becoming much more cynical after a minute.
"Wait… are you sleeping with him?" he asks, pointing at Sam. Apparently crossing my arms defensively across my chest is the wrong move, because he chuckles darkly and rubs a hand across his face.
"Well, you didn't waste much time, did you?" he asks, his voice low. Sam bristles, rising out of his seat. "Sam," Bobby warns softly, but he's ignored as Sam moves to tower behind me.
"Did you fuck him that night, or did you sit Shiva first?" he asks hotly. "That's none of your business, Dean," I warn, feeling Sam hovering closer to my back. In any other situation it would be comforting, but right now it's the last thing I want. Dean doesn't take the hint, just steps closer to me.
"Y'know, you're totally willing to accuse me of leaving you, but you opened your legs for Sam real quick," he growls, and before anyone can make a move my palm collides with his face, hard. The sound reverberates through the room, and it doubles the tension. I can feel hot, angry tears in my eyes.
"Don't you ever speak to me like that again, Dean Winchester," I hiss, stepping close enough to him that our chests are touching. "And let's get something straight, I will open my legs to whomever I want, whenever I want. You lost a vote to who I fuck the minute you ran to someone else."
I turn to Bobby, who's been watching silently from his seat. "I'm going to stay at the motel on route six." Bobby nods, then nods towards the door. "Your car is almost empty, but the keys are by the door."
I nod, ignoring Dean as I turn and walk out of the kitchen. Sam follows, grabbing my duffles and carrying them out to my car. I sigh as he tosses them in the back seat.
"So," he says, leaning against the driver's door. "We have some stuff to take care of at Dean's, but I'll call you when we're done."
I nod, wanting to talk about anything but Dean at the moment. Sam cups my cheek, tilting my head up to kiss me. "Be careful," I whisper against his mouth, pressing my lips to his again.
"You didn't call."
Sam looks at me sheepishly through the fringe of his hair, then holds up a bag. "But I brought Chinese," he offers. I step back, holding the door open for him. He steps into the motel room, dropping the bag of food on the table before turning to grab me by the waist.
He kisses me as he kicks the door closed, backing me up towards the bed. "I thought we were going to eat," I say, moaning as his mouth latches onto my throat. "'sfine cold," he murmured, the words smearing across my throat as he bit and suckled marks up to my shoulder.
"I'm hungry," I say, then gasp when his teeth close around the muscle between my neck and shoulder. He raises his mouth enough that it's next to my ear. "Lennie, I'm going to fuck you so hard you can't feel your legs and make you scream so loud the people next door know my name," he growls, his teeth nipping at my earlobe.
I moan, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and letting him lift me up to hook my legs around his waist. He spins me, pinning me against a beam as he lowers his mouth to mine. He grinds his hot length into me, smearing my wetness and rubbing harshly against my clit. I'm not expecting it when the orgasm hits, gasping into his mouth and holding onto him as he continues to thrust against me.
"That's my little girl," he says, watching me closely as I come, one hand dropping down to grab my ass, his long fingers brushing against my sopping hole as they push under the elastic of my panties. "So wet already. You can't wait for me to fuck you, can you?"
I moan again, one hand dropping between us to pull at his belt. He chuckles, dropping his other arm from my waist to mirror the hand on my ass, holding me up so I can undo his belt with both hands. Once I have it undone I reach up and yank open his shirt. "You're going to sew every single one of those buttons back on, little girl," Sam says, and I smirk when I hear them bouncing around on the floor. "Yes, sir," I respond, trailing my hands down his chest to finish getting his jeans open. When they are, I reach a hand in and draw Sam's cock out, looking at his face as I swipe my thumb across the slit.
"You have no idea the things I thought about doing to you on my way here," Sam breathes, adjusting his grip so he has a free hand. "Tell me," I moan, watching as he tugs at my panties. I hear them rip and his fingers slip through a hole big enough for him to slip his cock through. Sam slides his hands across my drenched pussy, slicking his palm and giving himself a few healthy tugs before lining himself up.
"I thought about taking you on the floor," he says, slipping in an inch. "Bending you over the table." Another inch. "Fucking you on the counter." I moan with the next inch. "Making you ride my tongue." The burn starts with the next inch. "Watching you finger yourself until you squirt all over me." I'm getting close with the next inch. "But nothing is as good as watching you come while I fuck you so deep you can't even talk."
I come as he slides home, rocking gently against me as I squeeze around him, unable to do anything but claw at his back and shoulders as I whimper. My orgasm isn't quite over when he pushes himself all the way against me, keeping me elevated with his hips while he slips his forearms under my knees. He starts thrusting, my body sliding down, my legs opening wider for him.
"God, yes," he says, his jeans sliding down with every thrust of his hips. My hands go up to his hair, my fingers tangling in it, pulling at the roots as I feel a third orgasm building. Sam growls, the new found hair-pulling kink getting the better of him. "Godammit, Len. Don't you fucking make me come yet," he growls. I cry out when he pulls out of me, somehow managing to pull me away from the beam supporting us and drop me on the bed.
"Take off your clothes," he demands, tugging off his own shirt and jacket. I pull off my shirt and ruined panties, tossing the latter at his chest. "You owe me new ones," I breathe, watching as he pushes his jeans down and toes off his shoes and socks.
"Maybe you just shouldn't wear them," he grinds out, finally yanking his unruly left sock off and throwing it across the room. I glance between his legs, his cock an angry red and positively pulsing. He grabs me by the ankle, tugging me towards him. "You're such a goddamn tease, do you know that?" he asks, and I moan as he pulls my legs over his shoulders.
"The way my idiot brother was talking to you, it made me want to fuck you right there, show him exactly what he's missing," Sam growls, sliding into me again. I can't speak, his cock bringing me right back up to the cusp of orgasm. "You will come only when I say, do you understand me?" he demands, and I barely nod.
I'm not sure how long he fucks me like that, my legs over his shoulders, thighs slick with his sweat and my arousal. My head spins, and I'm reduced to a mewling mess.
"Almost there, Len. Just, ah, a little bit longer," Sam breathes, in an almost reassuring way. I'm not sure how I manage to hold on, but I do. Finally, just when I'm sure I've broken something holding back this long, Sam drops his head to mine, breathing a quick "now" across my lips, and then I'm coming so hard I can't see.
After a while, my breathing slows and I start to feel my limbs again, and I realize Sam is no longer inside of me. I turn my head and look at him, leaning a little into his hand as he cups my cheek. "Did Lucifer make you memorize the fucking Kama Sutra down there or something?" I ask. Sam chuckles as I roll over, tugging me into his chest.
"I guess I just know you, know your body," he says, pressing kisses into my forehead. We lay there for a few minutes, his fingertips playing over my back and hips as he brushes kisses along my hairline. Then my stomach growls.
"C'mon, let's eat," Sam says, kissing my forehead one more time before standing up and tossing me his shirt. "There aren't any buttons on this," I point out, slipping my hands through the sleeves. Sam raises an eyebrow. "Well, whose fault is that?" he asks playfully. I mock glare and stand, coming up behind him as he starts pulling boxes out.
"Here," he says, handing me an eggroll. "You're gonna need your strength for round two. I'm thinking of breaking out the handcuffs."