Gotcha

Pairing: Wincest x Demon!Reader
Rating: 18+
Warnings: Dub Con / Coercion
Tags: Demonic Possession, Hypnotism, Gun Kink, Mentions of Medical Kink, Dirty Talk, Unsafe Sex, Oral Sex, Manual Stimulation
Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHIARA MY BEAUTIFUL DARK ANGEL 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

“Gotcha.” The demon disengages the safety of the slim revolver, the ominous click echoing dully in the bunker library. Smiling cruelly, she presses the end of the barrel harshly into the side of Sam’s head, twisting his long chestnut hair beneath the metal, making him hiss. 

“We’re gonna behave now, aren’t we Dean?” she asks calmly. 

The hunter grits his teeth, clearly murderous, but his eyes flick to his little brother – hands tied behind his back and gun pressed against his ear – and he nods slowly. She knew Dean would never do anything that endangers poor little Sammy’s life. 

“How about we talk this out?” Dean offers, slowly approaching Y/N and Sam with his arms held up in surrender. 

“Ugh, Crowley did warn me you were chatty types,” she sighs in aggravation, eyes rolling reflexively. 

“Crowley?” Dean growls, still advancing, but Y/N doesn’t stop him; she actually wants him closer. “Is that why you’re up here, hellbitch? Crowley sent you? What the fuck does he want?” 

“Crowley didn’t send me, he just told me how to get into your precious bunker,” Y/N smirks. “And where you store this baby.” She waves the Colt in her hand a little, but keeps the muzzle against Sam. 

“The Colt?” Dean raises a brow. 

“I have a little monster problem of my own, wanted to deal with it the permanent way,” Y/N shrugs casually. “The B&E was just a fun perk.” 

“Well if all you want is the gun, you got it. So how about you fuck off now, huh? No one’s gotta get hurt, lady,” Dean tries to reason with her but she laughs coldly. 

“Sure, no one has to get hurt, but it’s much more fun for me,” Y/N grins. 

Her free hand flies up in front of Dean and he recoils as if he’s expecting her to hit him but her fingers stop a few inches from his face, snapping in front of his eyes. He blinks in confusion. Y/N snaps again, moving her hand gently from side to side like a metronome, clicking her fingers at each extremity. Dean’s eyes follow her hand cautiously, but his gaze becomes more and more unfocused as the air between them begins to shimmer. 

“Wha… what’re you…” Dean’s voice is weak, his eyes glued to the oscillation of her fingers. Sam struggles against his bonds, shouting through the gag in his mouth, panicked about what the demon is doing to his older brother. 

“You’re going to agree to everything I tell you to do, aren’t you Dean?” Y/N speaks sharply, her voice clear and ringing in the silence of the library amidst the clicks of her fingers. Dean nods lethargically, his eyes still following her hand. “You’re going to do whatever I want you to do to your brother,” she continues, smirking. At the mention of Sam, Dean blinks a little more rapidly, trying to fight the hypnotic state she’s lulling him into. 

“Sam… Sammy…” he mumbles – gaze fuzzy, mouth slack. “Can’t hurt… Sammy…” 

“Oh, you’re not going to hurt him,” Y/N giggles in excitement, a sound that sounds sick coming from the mouth of a demon, but that’s how her vessel laughs apparently. “You’re gonna get down on your knees and show me what you can do with those pretty pink lips of yours,” she purrs, pulling the gun off Sam and tracing the barrel over Dean’s lips teasingly. “Crowley promised me they were very talented, and I’ve always liked a show.” 

Sam protests through his gag roughly, but his words aren’t discernible. Slowly, Dean sinks to his knees, eyes staying locked on Y/N’s as he waits for her next instruction. 

“Open these up,” Y/N brings the gun to Sam’s crotch and draws lazy lines over his zipper, teasing his member with the stiff barrel. “Unwrap my present for me.” 

Dean obeys, his movements all leisurely and fluid, but deliberate. Sam begins to struggle against the ropes binding his arms behind his back, but Y/N quickly puts an end to his attempts to escape, pressing the Colt against the seam of Dean’s mouth and looking at Sam pointedly.  

“Unless you’ve got a kink for playing doctor, I’d let your brother do what I tell him,” Y/N growls against Sam’s neck, her teeth scratching his skin hard enough to leave marks. “You better behave too, or you’re gonna be fucking each other so hard you’ll both need stitches after, you got that?” She sees Sam swallow thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing out under the strong shadow of his jaw, then he nods. 

Dean has Sam’s cock out of his jeans now, and it’s already semi-hard in his hands, which surprises Y/N. She would have thought it would take a lot more work to turn him on given the scenario. She knew Dean was kinky, thanks to Crowley’s overly graphic story time about the life and adventures of Dean Winchester as a demon, but she hadn’t thought Sam would share any of his proclivities; everyone always made him sound so straight-laced. 

“Oh, did someone like the sound of playing Doctor, Sammy?” Y/N coos, teasing the gun up his length, pressing the metal into the quickly hardening flesh. “You want your big brother to take care of you? Kiss it all better?” Sam hisses when she shoves the muzzle of the Colt hard against his balls, pinning them to his leg. 

“Go on Dean, take care of your baby brother. Give that cock a big kiss for me.” She sighs happily as she watches Dean following her instructions, wrapping his lips around the head of his baby brother’s dick and sucking, making Sam moan and throw his head back. Y/N can’t tell if it’s in pleasure or anguish; most likely it’s a combination of both. The mental torture of enjoying your brother’s lips on your cock has gotta be rough on the guy, because some part of him is really clearly enjoying it. 

“Oh, look at you baby,” Y/N grins down at Dean. “I didn’t even have to tell you to suck him down like a whore, your body just knew what I wanted, didn’t it?” Dean moans in answer, whether in agreement or protest Y/N neither knows nor cares. She feels the nerves between her legs tingling in desire and slowly draws the Colt across Sam’s thigh to her own, nosing the gun up under her skirt and circling the tip around her clit. The thrill of it all is really what’s getting her off, but the added stimulation of the deadly instrument is a nice extra touch. 

Dean moves lightening quick, Sam’s cock dropping from his lips and smacking him wetly in the cheek as he spins his head and knocks the Colt out of Y/N’s grip, rolling athletically to where it’s skittered across the floor and scooping it up, pointing it definitively at Y/N’s head. Sam had sprung away in her confusion so he was no longer in the line of fire, and Dean grins smugly. 

“Guess Crowley forgot to tell you just how fucked up the Winchester brothers already are,” he smirks. “Making me suck Sammy’s cock is what I call my ideal Tuesday morning.” 

Y/N gulps, afraid, but somehow even more turned on.  

“Gotcha, bitch.”

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