Sam
There's hair in my mouth, an ass pressed against my crotch, and feet tangled with my own. A small hand wraps around mine and a small warm frame presses into me. Dean groans from across the small person between us and runs his hand lazily down her tanned leg. I stretch my free arm and let out an unexpected, loud groan, causing Dean to jump. His green eyes meet my hazel ones and we smile at the small, clingy human, holding on to some part of each of us. Lazy morning sunlight streams through the broken, dusty, motel blinds. It dances on the gold in her hair. Her lips part slightly and her breathing is even and slow.
Dean is staring at her like I am, in awe of the beautiful little creature we've grown up with and grown to fall in love with. I cascade my fingers along her arm and press a slow, soft kiss on her shoulder. I remember she loved to wake up to kisses on her stomach and thighs. Dean places a kiss on her lips before his eyes droop again. She snuggles into his figure and his arms come up to keep her close. The nickname koala-bear runs through my mind, reminding me of when Dean used to call her that. I smile and run my hands down her thigh before throwing my legs over the side of the bed and standing. Somewhere in the night, my shirt ended up on Rachel and my jeans tossed onto the couch. I assume the jeans were my doing and the shirt was all Rachel. I smile and pull the covers over her, so she can snuggle with my brother.
I walk to the bathroom, drop my boxers and get the shower started. It's not until I leave the bathroom, after my shower, that I hear the cacophony of snores coming from the bed. Dean and Rachel, one snuggled up inside the other, mouths wide open, snoring away. I pick up my phone from its charger and snap a picture, then a video. Rachel is stirring at this point. Her body flexes as she stretches herself awake. I throw on some boxers and sweatpants before getting the coffee pot started. One thing our baby sister isn't is a morning person.
She murmurs and whimpers from the bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her tiny fists. Back when us and Rachel had a constant dynamic going, Rachel was compliant in the morning. We operated in a watered down ddlg dynamic, that wasn't always sexual. Living on the road was hard, as expressed in our relationship status. Sometimes Rachel needed to regress. Sometimes Dean and I needed to have someone to nurture. It was hard to explain so we didn't usually try. The bottom line is that Rachel is ours and we're hers.
"De...?" Rachel whimpers from beside him, pushing his arm.
He grumbles and tightens his grip, causing her anxiety to lower. Something about being close to us calms her down. It's another odd thing we can't explain.
"Coffee?" I ask, gesturing to the almost-full pot.
She whips her head around so fast I'm pretty sure she got whiplash. Her eyes flash with surprise and then happiness at the fresh, hot coffee in the pot. She squeals and squirms, excited for what I perceived as her love for coffee, and jumps out of bed, away from Dean. She runs to me and launches herself onto me. I catch her with ease, stumbling back at the added weight.
"Can I help you little one?" I ask, situating her in my arms.
She mumbles my name to herself with childlike excitement. Her explorative hands roam my bare chest and neck while gravitating towards my face. This early in the morning she's so deep in her headspace it's like she's our 3-year-old baby sister again. Now she's 18 and still as small as she was on her first day of middle school. 5 foot 3 inches to be exact.
"Hold" is the only answer she gives.
I press a soft kiss to her lips and rub a soothing hand down her back.
"Now that's something I can arrange," I say warmly.
She smiles, her pearly white teeth on full display and nestles her head under my chin. I walk over to the coffee maker and pour her a cup. I set it on the dingy motel table and sit her in front of it. She smiles in appreciation and picks up the cup to take small sips of her coffee. I turn my attention to my own cup of coffee and set it on the table in front of her. She looks up at me and sets her coffee down next to mine, so she doesn't spill it. I lift her up, take her spot, and sit her so she's straddling my lap facing the laptop in front of her. I pick up my coffee and take a sip.
"Hey, so how'd you get my shirt on your body little one?" I ask running my fingertips under said shirt right above her panty line.
I note how the maroon of her panties compliments her tanned bites her lip and her eyes flutter at my touch.
"Answer me, sweet girl," I sweep my fingers below the waistband of her silk panties.
"I pulled it off when you were deep asleep cause I was cold, and you were sweating." She looks up at me, feigning innocence.
"Is that the truth angel?" I ask, giving her a look.
"Yes sir" she affirms.
"Mm, alright," I say.
My fingers slip deeper down until they're separating her folds and dancing along her clit.
She's completely soaked already. Her soft sighs and tiny moans fill the air as my lazy fingers play with her pussy and look through the morning paper. After a minute or two, I use a finger to fill her and her moans grow louder, stirring Dean every once in awhile.
"Sam… p-please may I cum?" She asks, her thighs shaking, waiting for release.
"Hold it a little longer baby, I wanna stretch you out," my voice is calm as I add another finger to pump in and out of her.
She moans louder, and her right-hand grips my thigh.
"B-Brother please" she moans, resting her head on my shoulder.
Her thighs shaking harder.
"Cum," I say, my voice quiet.
She cums so hard that her body is shaking from her toes to her fingertips. I continue to rub her through her orgasm and watch the slow beginnings of her come-down. Once she's calm, I pull my fingers out and suck her taste from them, tossing her a wink. I pull my fingers from my mouth after any trace of her is gone. She blushes at my actions. Dean stirs again, making it more evident that he's awake. I see the excitement building in Rachel's eyes, so I pull her off my lap to go wake up our brother. It became clear that I misjudged because instead of waking him up nice and slow, she jumps on him…hard.
"UP!" She cries as her body collides with his.
He groans in surprise and flips her so she's below him. Despite Dean pinning her down, Rachel is still all smiles
"De," She says, mischief flares in her eyes.
Dean wakes up a little more and it becomes clear to him who woke him up. His confused pout turns into a small smile as he collapses on Rachel. He peppers kisses all over her face and neck. The giggles pouring out from under him bring a smile to my face. I clear my throat causing Dean to look over at me.
"Jealous?" He teases.
"Unlike you, sleepy head, I got to help her wake up. So no, I can't say I am," I respond.
I quirk a playful eyebrow at my brother who still has our sister trapped in a cage of muscle and sheets. Dean and Rachel stare at each other for a minute. Seeming to communicate weeks of unsaid feelings and worries. Rachel hardens her resolve and sobers. Her compliant state dissipates as she travels to a more wakeful state.
"Sammy made coffee," she says, her child-like voice still soft and forgiving.
Dean, like Rachel, lacks the ability to function without at least a half a pot of coffee in his system. I grab whatever I can get before Rachel and Dean consume the rest.
He huffs, gets out of bed, only wearing boxers, and scoops our baby sister to parade her into the kitchen. He drops her in my lap before he cards a hand through her brown locks. The same hand caresses my shoulder and soft lips are on the top of my head. I throw my brother a smile and go back to researching with our little spider monkey. He makes a cup of coffee and sets it in front of our sister, who much to my surprise has already downed her first cup. Dean sits down across from us, remaining coffee in the coffee pot in hand, flipping through a gun magazine.
Rachel is halfway through her second coffee and she's starting to get restless. Her left-hand taps against the linoleum table because she has to let out the extra energy. I'm done with my coffee by now and we're not any closer to an answer than we were last night. Dean isn't getting any case-based research done by flipping through a gun magazine. So, I figure it would be best to get him to take care of Rachel while I review some evidence. I rub Rachel's thigh to get her attention. She looks up at me expecting something.
"Why don't you and De go shower so I can finish up some of this research. Okay?" I whisper in Rachel's ear.
"Why are we whispering?" She responds in a loud, not-so-much-of-a-whisper, whisper.
Dean laughs and chokes on his coffee.
"Go hop in the shower, bug." I chuckle, pinching the inside of her thigh.
She squeaks and scurries off my lap. Running into the bathroom. Dean, catching on, stands and downs the rest of his coffee before following her.
Rachel
I run into the bathroom, quick in stripping off my wet panties and Sammy's shirt. I get the warm water going when Dean walks in, bare of clothing. His hands are gentle when he pulls me away from the faucet. He pushes my hips against the bathroom counter while the water warms, and captures my lips in his. I moan in appreciation and trail my fingers down his chest with light touches. Dean unlatches his mouth from mine and presses a soft kiss to my forehead. I can tell he's doing everything he can not to throw me on the counter and fuck me.
He squeezes my ass and turns to step into the shower, waiting for me to join him. I'm quick to follow him. I grunt in appreciation as the warm water hits my back. Dean starts to wash his hair, the musky scent of his skin and the dark sent of his shampoo combine and dance in the air. I enjoy the scent, breathe it in and embrace it. I reach up and massage Dean's scalp, working in the shampoo. I relish in the small grunts and groans that fall from his lips. Once I'm sure its rubbed in, I tilt his head back under the stream of warm water. I repeat the relaxing process with his conditioner.
I know my physical absence has been hard for him. He's one of those guys that needs reassurance in relationships. When I was pulling away he thought it was because he was doing something wrong. Fear and guilt controlled me, I couldn't escape. An idea falls over me as Dean begins washing my dark brown hair. I kneel in front of him, a slow burn grows in my stomach as I eye his package. It's been so long since I've tasted him, and now I'm starving. Dean's watching me, his eyes hooded with lust but clear with caution in case I decide I can't help him. I reach up, my hands slow, and begin to jack him off, starting with small, hard strokes.
"Shit." Dean hisses and leans against the tile.
I close my mouth around his tip and suck gently and lazily. Earning a hard tug on my hair. Dean resumes massaging the shampoo into my hair as I take all Dean's impressive length down my throat. Dean's groan is loud enough that Sam could've heard it at the kitchen table. I smile and begin to bob my head, hollowing my cheeks to add friction.
"Fuck baby, that's it, take all your big brother's cock" He moans as I speed up.
Once I reach up to lazily fondle his balls, he falls apart. I know he's about to cum, so I deep throat him one last time as he shoots thick, hot, ropes of cum down my throat. I start pulling back and suckle on his head, pulling every drop of cum out of his body. Dean's broken moans and pants sound above me as he finishes massaging the shampoo out of my hair.
I stand and smile as Dean runs conditioner through my hair. He pauses his gentle hands at my jaw to massage away any pain. I lean into his touch and let him finish cleaning my hair and body. We step out of the shower together and I lean against the counter. Dean wraps a towel around his waist and then wraps a towel around me. He runs a towel over my head and takes his time drying my hair. The feeling of his hands rubbing my hair makes a moan bubble up from the back of my throat.
"Such a good little girl" He murmurs and rubs circles on my lower back.
His praise makes my heart sing as I lift my face up to his for a kiss. I place small, wet kisses on his neck and chest enjoying the way his hands flatten out on my skin.
"I missed this," I whisper, pressing my face into my eldest brother's chest.
He sighs and runs his hands through my wet hair, removing the knots.
"I missed you." Dean says, his voice holding a vulnerability Sam and I are only privy too.
"I'm sorry," I whisper and lift my face to kiss him again.
He replies with a bruising kiss that's all teeth and tongue. It's passionate. Hard. His tongue swallows my own so all I can taste is Dean. Dean smells like gun smoke and soap. Dean tastes like whiskey and coffee. Dean feels like home. Dean is home. Wherever my boys are, I'm home. Dean slows down, his lips now languid as they move against mine as he sits me up on the counter. I spread my legs for him to stand between them. His kiss becomes soft, almost apologetic, against my bruised, used lips. When he pulls away it's gradual. My face follows him, hopeful, catching my breath along the way.
"De," I frown, wanting his hot mouth on mine.
"Baby girl, if we keep going, I'll fuck you. You're not ready for that again," Dean chases my frown with his finger pads.
They dance across my mouth. His eyes flare with lust when I suck one of his digits into my mouth. I take it all the way down to his knuckle, reveling in his expression. He groans and pulls out his finger with great effort, leaving my mouth empty once again. His mouth connects with mine and all heat is gone. It's soft now. He lifts my body off the counter, removes his mouth from mine, and sets my feet on the ground. His instructions are clear, words never even having to escape his lips. I leave the bathroom, towel-clad, and go to rummage around in the boys' luggage.
Sam, upon seeing me, clears his throat and raises an eyebrow as if to say, "do your clothes not suffice?" I giggle and pull out a pair of long socks I bought Sam several Christmas' ago. They have snowflakes and snowmen on them. They're usually on my body during the colder months of our never-ending hunting season. I pull them on, they end above my knees. Next, I go to dean's bag and pull out his most worn flannel, the one that smells most like him. It's a bit too big for me, but it covers everything to an extent, so I can't complain. When I'm not expected to wear FBI garb for a hunt, I'm more casual. Usually I'll wear one of my brother's shirts and a pair of my leggings or shorts. When I'm sleeping its one of their shirts and whatever panties I choose.
I remember the first time I started wearing Dean and Sam's clothes. A trend that my father initiated when I was young
Flashback- 18 years ago
"C'mon little bug, let's get you ready for bed," Dad said. Scooping me up from the motel couch where I was busily watching Looney Toons.
My whine of despair caused a bubble of laughter to escape his chest. The tension in the room lightens. Dad pulls me to the nearest bed, the one Dean and Sam were sharing and shrugs off his flannel. His dark plain shirt replaces the frilly pink one I was wearing. It was the period of hunting where we happened to be in one of the hottest states during the warmest part of the year. During colder months he'd wrap me up in his flannels. Dad lifted me up and lightly catapulted me to the other bed. Smiling at the cacophony of giggles that erupted from my chest. Dean and Sam, engrossed in researching and gun-cleaning, looked up at my laughter too.
"Alright bug, let's get some shut-eye yeah?" Dad asks.
"Ok daddy," I giggled and nestled under the covers of my Dad and I's shared motel bed.
Sleep stole me away while the scent of my dad's cologne and cigarette smoke filled my nose.
End Flashback – Present Day
As I grew older and Dad was around less and less, I found myself wearing Dean's t-shirts to bed. I asked him once and he said yes once, but when I wore the same shirt the next night to bed, he didn't protest. Every once in awhile, to be polite, I'd ask my brothers if I could borrow their flannels or shirts to sleep in. Usually, it was because "I didn't have any clean shirts".
I don't think Dean or Sam ever cared though. They got some primal enjoyment out of me wearing their clothes and smelling like them. Eventually, I stopped packing sleeping clothes and just started stealing their shirts. It wasn't long before I built a collection of stolen shirts and flannels. I drop my towel and start getting dressed.
I pull on Dean's flannel, button it haphazardly and go to my luggage for my panties. Dean left the bathroom and is tossing our combined dirty laundry into the bag we've reserved for it. He takes a huge handful of my ass and squeezes it as he passes me. I grin and dig out my favorite pair of soft lace panties. They're black, a sharp contrast to the gray and white of Dean's flannel. Once I've finished getting "dressed", I go to lay on the bed we all shared last night, Dad's journal in hand. I'm leaning on the headboard, ankles crossed, engrossed in an entry about wraiths. Dean is getting dressed in front of me. His previous outfit of only boxers disappears. Some black briefs and grey sweatpants are front and center now. I try to stop myself from licking my lips but it's hard.
"Find anything new, Sammy?" Dean asks.
He uncrosses my ankles with those ever-gentle hands for what I assumed was a cuddle session.
"Well it's either a ghoul or a revenant, but I won't know for sure until we interview the victim's families." He says, glancing at the motel alarm clock.
"It's too early to leave now, I say we head out about noon, maybe go to grab some breakfast soon." I chime, smiling at Dean who is spreading my legs further and further apart.
"Great idea sugar," Dean smiles.
He pulls my panties down with a single finger and then flings them away to Sam.
I know what my brother is doing. He'd do better to at least try and be subtle. Sam is watching in interest while our brother pushes my thighs further apart. My knees fall to the side, baring my most intimate parts to my brother. His mouth meets my clit and I melt. His lazy tongue sweeps across my clit, creating a slow burn in the pit of my stomach. His masterful lips suck only on my clit, making it harder and harder to focus on the journal entry in front of me. He licks one long stripe from my hole to my bud, making sure I feel every hard press and ridge of his tongue. He slowly moves his tongue into my hole, tongue fucking me slow and lazy. Despite his lazy actions, my eldest brother looks hyper-focused on the task at hand. My legs start to give and a shake starts to erupt in my thighs.
"Are you already this close?" Dean husks, looking at the shake of my thighs, the easiest indicator of my orgasmic struggles.
"I played with her earlier," Sam pipes up.
His words contribute to the lazy feel of the cunnilingus session currently happening. Dean slowly dips his tongue into my hole and brings it back up to my clit. He presses harder and goes a little faster. He runs his fingers along the soft skin of my inner thigh, and I can feel myself coming undone.
"Big B-brother, " I give a quiet warning.
He gives no indication of hearing me aside from speeding up. My head falls back on the headboard and I widen my legs to increase his access. The mewls and moans falling from my mouth are both unintelligible and fevered. Dean smiles against my clit and licks one long, hard stripe from my hole to my clit for the third time. my body rock to a climax. My big brother's soft fingers rub me through my orgasm and takes his time bringing me down. I'm panting and he's smirking when our eyes finally meet.
"So, who wants breakfast!" he chirps, clapping his hands together once.
"Me!" I yell, excited, scrambling to the door.
"Ah, ah, ah, where the fuck are you going?" Sam enquires from the table.
"I'm getting in the car to get breakfast, c'mon guys!" I encourage, going a step further by placing my hand on the grimy doorknob.
"If you think Sam and I are gonna let you anywhere near the general populous with your goodies on display like that. Well you're not as smart as I thought baby girl," Dean quirks one eyebrow at me.
"But why not, guys I'm starving!" I pout, stomping my foot in a child-like manner.
"You can wait here while Dean and I grab it to go then." Sam decides, standing to grab a shirt.
"NO! I wanna go with! I'll get dressed!" I panic and run to my suitcase.
I throw on another set of panties, black leggings, an army green tank top with Dean's flannel over it. I throw on combat boots before dashing out the door to get in Baby. By the time the boys are dressed I'm already in the car with my hazelnut brown hair Dutch braided into pigtails. I send the boys a cheeky smile before Dean slides in his seat, grumbling about women.
