1 Mister Winchester

You were a brat. Sure, you were Jack's best friend since you moved into town and influenced the boy in great ways. He actually felt safe enough to get into driving lessons, found himself a part-time job and saved for a whole year to buy his own car and was socialising much, much more now.

But you were still a fucking brat.

A nice Jewish girl, that was what he imagined when he heard of you. A prudish girl who dressed up modestly and didn't curse, and never caused trouble.

But no. You were the stark opposite to that.

Dean called you a rebel, Cas said you just wanted attention and had neglectful parents. Sam… he didn't know what to think besides the obvious. You were 18 and already fucking sexy, and you knew it very well.

Funny how you were smart for some things but a disaster in others.

Like now, with maths.

"I give up, Jack," you groaned, defeated, just as he pushed Jack's door open, holding out some healthy snacks.

"You can't give up. I know you can do it, come on. I believe in you," Jack coached you. "Just two more and we'll be over."

Nipples. The only thing Sam could focus on were nipples. Your nipples.

You were wearing a white tank top that was quite old and had seen much better days, and there was no way you didn't know it showed off everything it was supposed to cover.

"Still studying for your last final?" he forced himself to ask, leaving the snacks on the coffee table in Jack's room.

"I'm gonna fail, mister Winchester," you fell on the bed, covering your face with a pillow and groaning into it.

Fuck. Did you need to be wearing such a skimpy outfit too? You had arrived in the baggiest clothes ever, why did you change into those?

"Thanks, dad," Jack spoke, reaching for the banana chips.

He wasn't his son, not biologically or legally speaking, but Sam had been a big part in raising Jack, and the boy considered him his father as much as the other two men in their weird family.

His brother and his husband were out of town and had used his visit as an opportunity to have him watching over Jack, so he wouldn't be left alone.

"I'm sure you can do it, Y/N," Sam assured you, eyes running over your body. "You are a very smart girl."

You pulled the pillow away and looked at him, spreading your legs just a little bit more.

Little whore.

"Thank you, mister Winchester."

He smiled.

Brat.

"You're welcome, kid. Eat a little, it's going to help. You two can do into the pool after that if you have anything to wear, Y/N."

Jack sent him a look he knew meant he was going to ask for something.

"Dad, we were actually wondering if Y/N could stay over the weekend?" he asked. "So we can study, you know?"

He frowned, taken aback by the question.

"Can't she study at home? Her own home?"

"No," he shook his head.

"I'm dumb, mister Winchester," you spoke, and when he looked at you, you were fucking pouting. "Just is the only one who can make me understand maths."

Fuck, he wanted to break that pout with his cock in your mouth.

You were a brat, a fucking sexy brat who had been tempting him with your body since he arrived in town.

"Sure," he spoke slowly. "She'll stay in the guest room, though. I don't want you two sleeping on the same bed."

You giggled.

"Yes, sir."

Your words travelled right to his hardening cock when he imagined you saying them oin a different occasion.

"Do you want to go over to your house to grab some clothes?" he offered, trying his best to fucking behave. "I can drive you there."

"No need," Jack reached under his desk, and pulled a heavy backpack from underneath, showing it to him. "She came prepared for you to say yes."

"Though I guess our plans to have wild sex are over, Jack," you joked.

His boy's face went glowing red like a ripe tomato.

"Y/N!" he hissed.

You giggled, covering your mouth with a hand.

"That's not happening, dad," he assured Sam. "I promise. Our relationship isn't like that."

Sam shook his head, glancing at you and pressing his lips together when you just smirked at him.

"Alright..."

He left, not trusting himself to stay there without embarrassing himself.

It took you two an hour until you were down the pool, and he felt safe enough to go up to Jack's room, finding your clothes piled up on the corner and walking to the window, looking down at where both of you and Miracle – the family dog – were already in the pool.

"Y/N, I'll add your clothes to laundry too," he shouted. "Is that okay?"

He waited, but it was Jack's voice that he heard answering him back.

"Sure, dad."

Sam picked up the piles silently, walking back to the space behind the kitchen where Castiel had placed the laundry space. Who the hell had their laundry area in the kitchen? Goodness.

He had just de-tangled your clothes – you were so damn messy, why couldn't you just fold your dirty clothes the way Jack did? - when his eyes caught a little piece in your jeans shorts, and his mouth watered when he realised that the little piece of pink cotton was your underwear.

Who would have guessed a little tease like you would wear such innocent underwear?

His finger ran over the little cotton square that covered your pussy was placed, and his cock throbbed when he realised he could feel some very characteristic dampness there, slicky and sticky, the kind that only meant one thing: a wet pussy.

Little brat, getting wet because of him. Such a little mix.

Anger bubbled in his blood for a moment.

What if it was for Jack?

He growled.

Sam loved his boy, he really did, but he wasn't good enough for you. He was too soft, too innocent. He wouldn't know what to do with you, no… you were too wild for that kid.

But not for Sam.

A naughty girl like you needed a firm hand.

He wasn't even thinking when he raised the little piece to his face, taking in a deep breath and sniffing it. Fuck, Sam wanted to bury his face between your legs and taste you from the very source.

He could almost see and hear it, your little whimpers as he ate your pussy out, as he made you cum against his face, begging him for more until it was too overwhelming, and you begged him to stop. He could see himself just shoving the little cotton underwear into your mouth to shut you up, holding you as you convulsed over him.

Sam should feel guilty for having those feelings. He was twice your age, and you were barely out of high school, for fuck sake?

But you were perfectly legal. He knew the law, no one would ever condemn him. Maybe the eye of public opinion wasn't that positive, but he wasn't really thinking of them.

Sam had just moved his hand to palm himself and appease his hard cock, when he heard the kitchen door opening, and only had time to throw the little piece in his hand away when you came into his view, wide-eyed and dripping wet from the pool.

He stared at you, finding your face flushed and soft lips parted open.

"Yes?" he forced himself to ask.

You hadn't seen anything, right?

"I… uh..." you stuttered. "Jack… Jack wants pizza. For dinner."

Sam swallowed down nervously.

"Yeah, sure," he confirmed quickly. "We can call a place and get pizza."

You nodded slowly, and moved to the fridge, bending down and picking a can of soda, and he looked away, shoving the clothes together in the washing machine.

Your bathing suit was completely different from your clothes. There was a one-piece suit covering your body, and a long-sleeved swimming shirt over it, barely showing any skin.

But he still could see himself just pushing it aside and fucking you like that.

Sam could just pin you against the counter and get inside you. It would be so fucking easy.

He was almost angry at you for showing so little skin, but he knew your skin was sensitive. You burnt too easily, his poor baby girl.

"Do you have sunscreen on?" he asked, unable to control himself.

Your eyes were still wide while staring at him.

"Yes, sir. Jack helped me to spray it on."

Sam swallowed down. Spraying. He didn't need to touch your skin.

"Good," he mumbled.

There was an awkward moment of silence before you tilted your head to the side.

"Do you really think we're dating? Jack and I," you questioned. "Would it be that upsetting?"

He tried not to clench his jaw.

Yes, yes it would.

"Of course not," he lied. "You're a good girl, Y/N. Are you two together?"

You were fucking smirking when you shook your head.

"No, mister Winchester. I'm not dating anyone."

He raised his eyebrows in questioning.

"And Jack?"

"Jack is just a brother to me," you shrugged. "I could never date him. Also, he's not my type."

Sam nodded slowly. A type, uh?

He swallowed down.

"I don't want puppy love," you said simply. "I need a real relationship with a real man."

He couldn't answer, and you didn't really give him time to, fishing for a second soda and walking out of the kitchen.

Fuck.

. . .

The whole weekend. That was how long you'd been teasing him.

Every moment you two crossed ways since that moment in the kitchen, you did something to entice Sam, things that were already making him go mad.

Your clothes became skimpier, showing off your body, and even went as far as walking past him in a towel that barely covered you between your legs, exposing the curve of your ass and the whole of your thighs to his ass just when he was leaving the master bedroom – where he had been staying, so you could take the guest room.

You had even dared to go to the pool at night wearing just a pair of black panties and the swimming shirt, exposing your mid-drift and puffing your chest so Sam could see how your nipples were hard from the cold wind.

A slut.

Sam had jacked off any chance he had a moment alone, in bed, in the shower, even in the fucking window as he watched you, and he was halfway sure you knew that very well.

In no moment, however, he found himself alone with you.

Until the very last night you were staying over, after Jack had fallen asleep, and he heard a suspicious sound downstairs.

His eyes were quick to find you in front of Dean's fancy bar, picking up a scotch bottle, and Sam only needed three steps to get to you before you could even open the bottle.

"That's not for you, kid," he reached out, snatching the drink from your hand.

You didn't even have the decency of looking surprised.

"I'm an adult, I can drink."

He shook his head. Sassy little thing.

"Not according to the law, kid. Not in this country, at least," he pointed out. "You have to wait three more years."

"You seem to know a lot about the law," you spoke slowly, crossing your arms, and he could see your breasts curving out, almost jumping from the little shirt you were wearing.

"I'm a lawyer," he put the bottle back into its place. "It's my job."

He watched as your jaw shifted, and you tossed your hair back just a little bit, raising your chin.

"So tell me, mister lawyer," you stared at him. "How old will I have to be for you to fuck me, legally speaking?"

Sam licked his lips, shaking his head.

There you were, finally showing your true colours.

Still, you flushed, and swallowed down at his lack of response.

"Sorry, I shouldn't..."

"Now," he interrupted you. "If I want to."

He shouldn't.

Fuck, he shouldn't.

You were so young, barely out of high school… didn't even go to college yet.

You were the freshest of pussies.

Screw it.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" he whispered, stepping closer, nearly cornering you onto the bar.

You didn't answer. Honestly, you didn't even have to.

The way your lips parted and you sucked in a breath, they were enough.

When Sam kissed you, your sweet lips were soft and warm.

A pervert. That was what he was. An awful, horrible and perverted man.

But at least he was aware of it.

When he pulled away from you, your eyes stared widely at him, surprised and shocked, and he didn't let you even think twice about it.

"Go," he instructed. "Go to my room if you want this. If I don't see you there, I won't go after you."

He watched as you walked away and waited a few moments, reaching for the bar and taking a swig of his brother's best scotch – the same one you'd been holding when he found you – and put it back into place before walking back up slowly.

If you were in the guest room, he wouldn't go after you.

But if you were in his room...

His steps were slow and calculated until he stepped onto his bedroom, and a smirk grew on his lips when he saw your silhouette standing in the middle of the master bedroom, and his fingers were quick to lock the door.

Jack slept through the night like a rock. He wouldn't even notice.

"Mister Winchester," you whispered, hesitant. "I… I've never done this before."

He licked his lips.

"This?" he asked.

You crossed your arms, and he turned on the lights, raising his eyebrows when he realised you were hiding your breasts.

"I…" you struggled. "I only kissed two people in my life. And have never… I haven't… you know."

Sam wanted to laugh.

A little virgin, just for him.

The devil really wanted his soul.

Sam stepped closer to you, and pushed your hair back behind your ear, exposing your flushed face to his eyes.

"I'm honoured you chose me to be your first, little one."

You whimpered, and blinked a couple of times.

"I… uh…" you looked for words. "I thought… the… the hot experienced dad option seemed pretty appealing for a first time."

He chuckled. Always trying to have the last word, his little mix.

Yes. His.

Sam was absolutely going to keep you.

"I really should tell you to leave, shouldn't I?" he whispered, raising your chin and kissing your jaw. "Little virgin girl standing in the middle of my room… you're so hot for your best friend's dad, aren't you?"

You whimpered, holding your arms together even tighter, and welcomed him sweetly into your mouth when Sam started kissing you.

Sam didn't wait for you to move, just lifting you up as you two kissed, and tossed you on top of the big bed.

He could change the sheets before Cas and Dean arrived.

"I don't…" you panted when he pulled away, breathless. "I don't want to go away."

Sam chuckled.

"I know, sweet thing…" he sucked on your earlobe. "By baby slut wants daddy to deflower her."

His hand climbed your stomach and reached for your arms, slowly pulling one, and then the other.

"You even took off your shirt," he cooed, circling your breast with a finger, making little patterns as he watched your nipples hardening. "Behaving like the perfect little slut… how can I even resist you?"

You whined when he pulled on your nipple, arching your back to him, needy.

"I don't know, sweet thing… I mean… are you sure you want me to fuck you?" he teased. "To be your first? That sounds so important..."

Sam didn't give you time to answer, sticking out his tongue and licking your nipple before sucking it into his mouth.

He was going to make you beg.

"Sam-" you panted out, but he bit down on your nipple, making you yelp. "D-Daddy!"

He smirked, feeling his cock throb.

"Good girl."

He switched sides, using his finger to play and caress the nipple that had been in his mouth.

"What is it, baby slut?" he spoke against your skin.

You were panting, already whimpering.

"You've been teasing me so much in the weekend," he reminded you. "Don't you have anything to say for yourself now?"

"Please, daddy," you cried softly.

"You're already so wet, baby girl," he licked your nipple.

You whimpered.

"I'm sorry?" you asked. "I don't know..."

But he shushed you.

"No, baby, don't apologise, no," he kissed the space between your breasts. "That's so good."

You blinked down at him, eyes watery as they stared into his.

"You were wet before, when I did your laundry," he moved his hand up, pushing his fingers into your shorts. "I saw it on your panties. That was so naughty of you, baby girl..."

He ran his fingers over your clit and your folds, both so slippery when his fingers moved over your pussy.

"Please, daddy," you whimpered. "I need it."

He rubbed a circle over your clit, earning a short cry from you, and grinned.

"Like this, baby slut?" he asked, applying pressure over your throbbing bud. "That's what you need?"

You cried softly, and he bit his lower lip.

"Or maybe you want something else?" he rubbed his nose over your nipple. "You need something to fill your little pussy?"

You squirmed on the bed, raising your hips, and searching for more of him.

"Please, daddy," you begged.

Sam growled and pulled his hand away, taking off your shorts and leaving you naked on his bed, before turning you around and exposing your beautiful ass to his eyes.

He couldn't resist, slapping both sides with the hand that had been against your pussy.

He was going to use your asshole soon, but he needed to wait.

You didn't know you were going to be his yet.

"Keep your ass up," Sam instructed, standing up and pulling his shirt over his head, taking off his shorts and briefs just as quickly.

When he raised his gaze, you had turned your face back and was staring at him with wide eyes.

"What is it, baby girl?" he fisted his cock, groaning as he caressed his tip.

"Don't you have a condom?" you whispered, and the fear in your eyes just made him harder.

"Isn't it your first time, sweet girl?" he palmed your ass.

You nodded.

"I'm clean, baby girl, don't worry," he kissed the middle of your back, positioning himself. "I'll buy you plan B when I go drive you home."

You didn't look appeased, but didn't protest when he placed his cock over your folds. Once he had you living with him, he would get your little womb full of babies, but right now he needed patience.

Fuck. You were so wet and so tight.

Sam could see how his cock was pushing against your hymen and the moment it broke, and the tip of his cock was just in when he heard the little cries leaving your mouth growing into something louder.

"Daddy it hurts," you complained.

Sam growled, fisting your hair in his fingers and pushing your face against the pillow.

"Shh, baby slut," he groaned. "You don't want to wake everyone in the neighbourhood up, do you?"

It hurt, he knew it did. Sam had a big cock, and you were just a little virgin.

"It's okay, baby slut, it's okay," he cooed, pushing into your cunt and his cock was just halfway in when he let you search for air. "Just a little more, you'll see."

Sam wished he could see you cry and the look on your face, just so he could kiss your little tears away, but he couldn't. He didn't want to wake Jack up.

He'd have plenty of opportunities in his flat, and your ass was still untouched. Sam could and would have his way.

"Shh, baby," he whispered, bottoming out. "There you go, full daddy's cock."

Your cries had softened up to whines now, and you fisted the sheets when he started moving back and forth, in and out.

"There you go, so perfect," Sam kissed the middle of your back, and your pussy squeezed him. "That's how you're supposed to be, baby slut, full of my cock, just like you wanted."

You lifted your eyes once he released your hair, and Sam grinned. You were fucked out, those were the only words he could use to describe it. Eyes wet, lips reddened and cheeks damp and flushed.

Used.

And this was just the beginning.

"You're doing so well, baby girl," Sam nibbled on your shoulder. "Do you want daddy to make you cum? Uh? That's what you want?"

"Please, daddy," you whimpered.

Sam growled.

"Say you're mine," he hissed into your ear.

You cried out softly.

"I'm yours, daddy," you whimpered.

Somehow, it felt louder than it would have been if you had just screamed.

"Mine," Sam hissed, pushing his hand around your body and playing with your clit, making tight and fast circles.

His little baby girl, all needy of someone who would give her the attention she always, always craved for.

You'd look so beautiful when he finally got you pregnant. A little college student, full of his baby. Your stomach would grow and your breasts would be so sensitive, so tender... Then you'd be his forever and ever.

No one would be able to say he didn't help you build a future, because he would be such a good dad and partner, always helping you, so you could get your degree and be his little smart housewife.

Cas and Dean would find your relationship strange, but they would get used to it. Jack too.

His brother might want to kill him, but once Dean even found out, you would have been heavily pregnant with your first baby. Maybe the second, even, he had always been a little slow to catch up to things.

Sam was bought back to reality when your pussy squeezed around him, and you moaned through your orgasm, burying your face in his pillow as your little cut gushed over his cock.

He pushed more inside you, harder, faster.

"Daddy," you whimpered. "It's too much."

"Just a little more, baby girl," he hissed, holding your hips tighter. "Daddy's gotta cum, baby. Don't you want to feel it?"

He smirked.

It wasn't if you had a choice, though.

Sam tightened his hands on you, fucking you hard as you cried, and he growled over you as he came inside your pussy, painting your tight walls with his cum.

Sure, you were going to take Plan B tomorrow morning, but soon it would be different.

Sam stayed inside, enjoying the sensation, and when he moved his hands to caress your hair, you just looked like you had passed out.

His poor baby girl.

Maybe it was too much.

But you were going to be okay.

He pulled off of inside you and fished for his phone on the side of the bed, snapping a few pictures of your used pussy dripping his cum before climbing up and pulling you close, and kissed your nose as you slowly woke up.

"There is daddy's girl," he whispered, raising his finger and caressing a soft circle on your cheek. "You passed out, sweet thing."

You blinked slowly, looking so, so tired.

"Sorry, daddy," you mumbled.

"It's okay, baby girl," he whispered. "It happens when things get too good for your little body to process."

You just nodded, and Sam took in a deep breath.

"Tell me something, baby girl. Do you know where you want to go to college yet?"

You frowned, staring at him.

"College? You wanna talk about college now?"

He chuckled.

His little girl was so impatient. You just didn't understand things and their importance.

"Yes, little one," he confirmed. "You know, I'm friends with the dean in Stanford."

You blinked, confused.

"Sam, I'm not smart enough to get into Stanford," you told him. "I can't..."

"I'll take care of it," he caressed your cheek, interrupting you. "You'll get into Stanford if you want to. Do you?"

Sam had enough money to get you into Stanford without questions asked and to afford your tuition, so you wouldn't need to take out any loans.

You swallowed down.

"How can I even pay for Stanford?" you insisted, still not trusting him.

Sam shrugged.

"They have a music scholarship and I can help you with the documentation, you'll only have to pay for it later with your job."

He could pay for it. He would pay for everything for his baby girl, as long as you stayed with him.

"And you can stay at my house," he added. "But you'll have to keep it a secret."

You bit your lower lip, still unsure.

"You sure know how to get what you want, mister Winchester," you spoke slowly.

He chuckled, and moved his hand down, caressing your breast slowly.

"What do you say?" he insisted. "Don't you want to be near me, sweet girl? Daddy'll take good care of you."

You watched his face for a moment and finally nodded.

"Yes. I say yes."