phantisma: (Dean & Sam)
phantisma ([personal profile] phantisma) wrote2008-02-28 08:41 pm
Entry tags:

Birthday Surprises, Supernatural, NC-17

Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Birthday Surprises ( I suck at titles)
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Sam/Jess (sort of)
Rating: NC-17
Genre: CRACK!
Word Count: 901

Summary: Um...Dean Winchester is not a girl. Except when he is. Or rather...when Sam makes him one. See...it's Dean's birthday, and Sam's all the way at Stanford...but he has a plan and a surprise.

A/Ns & Warnings: Okay...so I have a bazillion things I should be writing. Instead, I bring you crack fic. In which Dean is...well...he's like...a girl. Not gender swap in the strictest sense of the word. More of a body swap thing. And sleepy morning sex. Just read it!




Dean Winchester is not a girl.

Period.

Full stop.

It’s just that he woke up one morning in his brother’s bed.

To make matters more complicated, he woke up a girl.

Not just any girl mind you, but THE girl. The one Sam’s been sleeping with. IS sleeping with. Is currently all spooned up to and hard with morning wood, and judging from the warm, gooey core of his now female body, she’s come to with the same inclinations.

What’s he going to do? He could scream like a girl and cover his delicate girly bits and leap from the bed.

But that doesn’t strike him as a very Dean Winchester thing to do.

Sam’s ginormous hand is cradled between his legs, cupping his very not male sex and he’s murmuring a name in his ear…and Dean thinks it’s Jess or something, but he can’t be sure, because damn that boy’s breath is hot…and the things his hand is doing makes Dean’s stomach slide six inches to the right and cant just so…letting Sam’s fingers inside…past the swollen lips of his very not-manly vagina.

Vagina.

Dean clears his throat and it’s pitched different, but not overly feminine. Sam’s fingers delve in deeper, his cock sliding between thighs that are already wet with sweat or that sticky wet that seems to be oozing out of his vagina.

VAGINA.

Because that? Is never getting old.

Not until Sam’s other hand finds something else of use. Two fingers pinch a nipple and Dean can’t control the explosion of pleasure and need that starts in his stomach (her stomach?) and leaks out her pussy onto Sam’s fingers.

Because ownership of the stomach may be in question, but Dean’s pretty damn sure the pussy is hers…even if he can feel every inch of Sam as he enters it…even if he feels like he can come again just from the feeling of full and heat and fuckyesmore as Sam rolls him, fills him…until he’s on his stomach and Sam is inside him and Sam’s teeth are on her skin…his skin…grazing over neck and shoulder.

“Sam. Sammy.” He can’t stop himself…thinks he feels Sam hesitate…then he’s moving again, deeper…slow…his hands drag over tender skin and Dean can’t breathe…the kid fucks like he does everything else…all concentration and focus…intense, burning focus.

There’s sweat. It beads on her skin, drips off his. The smell of sex, of her orgasm, and Dean’s working on a second even before Sam’s hand slips under and starts in on her clit. Her body bucks even without his reaction, which is intense enough to nearly throw Sam off of him/her…and when Sam’s body slams in one last time and floods her with his orgasm, Dean’s vision goes all white and fuzzy…his hearing sloppy and slow…because he’s almost certain he heard Sam say his name.

His.

Not hers.

He nuzzles soft against neck and shoulder, slides out with a soft pop, and is off…into the bathroom.

Dean sits up, feeling a little odd with Sam’s come oozing from his vagina.

There’s herbs and rose petals strewn around the bed. The feeling of some…something…hanging on the air.

Dean stands, almost moves for the bathroom, but he stops just short of the circle. Sam opens the door and just stands, holding his toothbrush. “I moved the mirror.” He points with his toothbrush to the mirror near Dean.

“Better get your jollies now, we can’t leave her in your body for long.”

Dean stares at Sam for a long minute before turning to the mirror, looking appreciatively at the girl Sam’s been sleeping with. “I’m hot.”

Sam snorts and lifts his toothbrush. “Go on, get with the feeling her up. I have to send you back.”

Dean runs one hand over his breast, then goes to the very edge of the circle. Sam tosses the toothbrush aside, meets him at the edge. “Could have warned me.” Dean says finally, quirking his head to the side as he listened to her voice coming out of her mouth.

“Where’d the fun be in that?” Sam’s hands slide over naked skin, over his waist. “Happy birthday.” His kiss was gentle and Dean could feel her body respond.

“You always did know how to surprise me.” Dean let Sam pull his very girly body close to his very manly one.

“And I always will.”

“Dad’s gonna be pissed.”

Sam’s smile was lopsided. “Not if we get you back before she wakes up. I trust you got good and drunk last night?”

“Oh yeah, ended up in bed with some red head.”

Sam pulled back. “Then we really gotta get you back. Jess can handle a lot. But that might just freak her out.”

“Kiss me first.”

“Such a girl.” Sam’s mouth closed over Dean’s and his arms closed around him, lifting him off his feet and moving him out of the circle.

Next thing Dean knew, he was in some motel bed next to a half dressed red head with a hangover and the taste of his brother on his tongue. His father kicked the bed.

“Get rid of the slut. We got work to do.”

Dean squinted at him. “Oh, and happy birthday.” His father tossed a box of ammo on his chest.

“I think I like Sammy’s present better.” Dean groused, rubbing at his head before reaching over to shake the girl beside him. “Even if he made me a girl.”