Phoebe Elizabeth Winchester knew as soon as she presented as an Omega that her life as she knew it was over. Sure, she would admit that her life wasn’t perfect by any means. She’d lost her mother by a monster when she was only two, her father lived as a vengeful drunk addicted to the hunt for the thing that killed his beloved mate, and as consequence, his three children, including Phoebe, were dragged along in his crusade across the country. Never staying in one place for more than a month or two at a time, never returning to the places they passed through.
Her eldest brother, Dean, had been groomed into John’s perfect soldier from the time he was four years old, and Phoebe had always done her best to take some of the strain off his shoulders. Her younger brother, Sam, had been free of the horrors of the night for as long as Dean and Phoebe could spare him. Sam, being only six months old when Mary Winchester was killed, had no recollection of that horrible night. Phoebe remembered the most important things, such as being the one to discover Mary’s body pinned to the ceiling above Sammy’s crib, the heat of the fire which had stemmed from Mary’s bleeding stomach. And Dean, Dean remembered that night perfectly. Phoebe and Dean had never once touched the innocence of ignorance like Sam had, up until he was nine years old at least.
But Phoebe knew that their life, their hunting life, it had no place for an Omega. Alphas like John and Dean, they were the prides of the family. Alphas were strong and fierce, quick and cunning. Phoebe remembered the morning Dean had awoken from a dead sleep, snarling and growling into his pillow as his hips thrust without abandon into the mattress, sweat slicking down his skin and his fingers tearing holes into the bedspread. John had evacuated Sam and Phoebe into another hotel room, tossing a toy onto the bed next to Dean before leaving to join the hunt in town. Phoebe had been furious with her father and snuck back into Dean’s room with food, water, and cooling rags to help. At the time, she had only thought she was doing it to help her big brother, a small consolation to all the times he had helped Sammy and herself. His rut had passed in two days flat, and Dean and Phoebe had never felt need to speak about it again.
But now Phoebe, an expert Huntress capable of killing anything that came at her and leaving no traces behind, was eighteen years old, and locked into the first day of her exhibiting heat with no clue how to explain to her Alpha father that his only daughter was as useless as he thought her to be. The time of presenting for any Alpha or Omega was normally sixteen, and when Phoebe had passed through her sixteenth without the sign of a heat or a rut, John had declared her a Beta and said nothing else to her. It was rare that a presenting was late, but the Winchesters lived in the world of rarity, hunted in it, thrived in it.
Phoebe clenched her thighs together and buried her face in her pillow to avoid an outright whimper. Even though she had a few days to spare with John, as he was in Nebraska as they were in Montana, her brothers were still in the next room over. If her Omega-in-heat scent hadn’t awoken them yet, she wanted them asleep for as long as possible. Just long enough for her to think of a plan to get past her first heat. Phoebe had to assume that Sam, who had presented just a few weeks ago as an Alpha-much to John’s pleasure-, and Dean shared the same views on Omegas as John did: Omegas were breeders, fuckholes, and bitches, and nothing more. The thought made her heart clench painfully, as she loved her brothers more than she probably should, but she couldn’t focus on that right now. Phoebe was just thankful that her slick had yet to start and wouldn’t start until she accepted a mate. The one protection biology gifted to Omegas: they could only be mated if they consented to mating. Everything revolved around an Omega’s loving and willing consent. Slick would only come for a mate, and for that, Phoebe was grateful. No slick meant the heat scent wouldn’t be as potent. It was still strong, but slick-less it lacked its full power.
Phoebe clenched her thighs together again. An Omega’s first heat, according to the books, only lasted as long as an Alpha’s first rut: two to three days total. Afterwards, heats could last anywhere from five to ten days. Phoebe shuddered at what she would be forced to endure thanks to her biology. Two to three days. John wasn’t set to return for another four, maybe five, depending on how bad the shapeshifter problem he was facing in Nebraska was. Phoebe could handle two to three days, especially since John had already been gone for three weeks and had thoughtfully rented out a rundown old hunter’s cabin for his children to stay in while he left them alone. A cabin meant extra space than a motel, and extra space meant that Phoebe had managed to score her own bedroom for the time being. She could lock herself in for the two to three days and wait this out, claiming to be sick, and then sneak out to the town pharmacy and grab some scent blockers and heat suppressants.
Phoebe nodded to herself. Yes, this could work. She would have to be careful with the suppressants, as they could be harmful if misused, but it would keep her secret. John wouldn’t hate her more than he already did. Sam and Dean wouldn’t hate her at all. She could still be their sister, and not a breeding bitch.
Phoebe sighed and didn’t fight the next wave of hollow pain through her stomach, settling in to wait for the long haul and rehearsing the lines she would spew to Dean and Sam whenever they called her down for breakfast.
Phoebe awoke suddenly and with a sharp mewl escaping past her lips. Sweat slicked down her naked body and caused her honey gold waves to her overheated and tight skin, flushing red with the need coursing through her. Phoebe stifled a moan and searched the nest of sheets where she was cocooned inside her bed in the Bunker she, Dean, and Sam had discovered a year ago. Her fingers closed around the hilt of the plastic dildo, her favorite one to use when she allowed her body to enter heat, thick, long, with a realistic knot at the base and a dial to make it vibrate whenever she plunged it inside her. It had already been well used in the past couple of days, and Phoebe’s mind whirled with confusion along with the haze of the heat.
This had to be the longest heat she had ever been in. Since starting the suppressants when she was eighteen, thirteen years prior to now, Phoebe had been diligent and responsible with the scent blockers and heat suppressants. She allowed her body to do what was natural to it, go into a heat, twice a year, rather than the normal four Omegas regularly had. But since she was eighteen, her heats had only lasted five or six days, maximum. Phoebe was now in day eight of the current heat. The brief thought that she had done something wrong with the suppressants was quickly tossed aside. Phoebe was diligent and careful with them, she never missed a dose unless scheduling a heat.
Her thoughts were muddled by the craze of the heat and the pleasure rippling through her body at the pistoling of the toy in and out of her pussy. She had never accepted a mate in thirteen years since she presented, and as such, her body had never produced an ounce of slick. Special lubrication coated the dildo she used now, made to feel like the actual slick of an Omega, and Phoebe had never once been disappointed in the product. There were only two people on this planet that she would ever consider mating with, and they were the very two that she could not be allowed to have: her own brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester.
Phoebe knew it was wrong, knew it was disgusting of her, but she could not quell her feelings of love, desire, and affection that went beyond the companionship of a sister towards her own brothers. The Omega inside her had recognized them as potential mates the day after her first heat had concluded, and it was on the foundation of that attraction that real love began to grow. Or perhaps they had already been there. Phoebe had always admired her brothers’ strength, courage, loyalty, and compassion towards others, and perhaps, without her knowledge, that had transitioned into actual love? Could that be why, even after all these years, her Omega still recognized Dean and Sam as her mates, even if both were Alphas?
Phoebe moaned and tipped her head back, pumping the dildo bruisingly into her pussy, at the thought of her brothers. What would if feel like to have their hands on her body instead of her own, instead of the platonic touches of family? To be touched with intent to pleasure? Would their hands be soft and gentle, aware of their love for her and her for them? Would the roughness of their palms equate into pleasure as they brushed over her nipples, mapped the inside of her thighs, the cleft of her ass, down her crack, along her pussy? Phoebe chased her climax as the newest fantasy unraveled before her mind: Dean, sitting near her head, holding her arms down as his mouth trailed loving and nipping kisses down her face, across her lips, and all over her chest. His tongue would lick tracks of glistening saliva over her nipples, sucking them as if expecting her to begin lactating without a pup in her belly. Her legs would be tossed over Sam’s broad and strong shoulders, his head buried between her thighs as he suckled the slick her slit would gladly produce for them straight from the source, fingers flicking in and out along with his tongue. Fingers playing with her clit, teeth scraping over it-
Phoebe wailed as she came, thighs clenching as she spilled her release all over her hand and the dildo, knot pressed firmly against her as she panted and reeled from what her mind had envisioned for her. It wasn’t her first time fantasizing about Sam and Dean, and it also wasn’t the first time she was happy that she planned her heat along the same time that they came across a case they had found over the Internet. Phoebe sighed and rolled over, falling into the familiar heat-post-orgasm sleep.
It didn’t occur to Phoebe’s hormone-addled and heat-crazed brain that her beloved brothers had wrapped their case that morning and were currently on the way back to the place where all three Winchesters called home.
Sam rolled his neck, groaning silently at the two or three pops of the joint, and dropped his shoulders as he followed Dean through the Bunker’s front door, the thought of a hot shower and his bed sounding like the best idea he’d ever had. The hunt for the ghost had turned into a hunt for a ghost and cursed object, and Sam had enough bruises for most of his skin to be purplish-blue than the healthy tanned ivory that it was. Sam grunted and bit back the growl when he ran smack into Dean at the base of the stairs leading from the landing to the War Room, ready to demand why the hell his big brother is frozen on the last step, when Sam stiffens at the air shifting about the Bunker, the scent riding along the breeze.
Sam instantaneously grew to full-mast in his pants, goosebumps arising on his flesh and the scarlet pigment of his Alpha’s irises ascending to the forefront as his nostrils flared, the delicious and mind-numbing scent of an Omega in heat filling his nose and nearly making him pass out at the sheer intoxicating nature of it. Instantly, Sam’s clothes become too heavy, too constricting, and he wants rid of them yesterday. But instead of listening to his inner Alpha, who is chanting ‘mate, claim, breed, mate’ in his mind, Sam clenches his fists and turns to his big brother for guidance. Whatever blood is left in his body flushes straight to his cock when he sees the feral gleam in his Dean’s scarlet-tinted emerald eyes, the part of his plump lips and the quiver of his pink tongue as he tastes the air. “Sammy,” Dean rasps. “Please...”
“Not the only one, Dee.” Sam confirms in a low growl, closing his eyes to try and regain his composure. “But who-where?” Sam immediately changes his question. The scent, thanks to the air conditioning of the Bunker, seems like it’s coming from everywhere at once. Every corridor, every doorway is leaking the scent of the primed Omega, and Sam can focus on who it could be-who his logical brain knew it to be-once he learned where the source was coming from. Dean is shrugging out of his coat and flannel, leaving himself in only his dark grey tee, and Sam must remind himself to look away or risk ripping Dean’s shirt to get to the rippling muscle underneath. Now was not the time to dwell on his lingering crush on his big brother. Sam followed his brother’s example and shed his jacket and over shirt, the overbearing feeling of his clothing lifting slightly with every layer he removed. “Dee, where’s it comin’ from?” Sam demanded, and watched as Dean closed his glowing eyes and tilted his head back, inhaling deeply.
“Down there.” Dean’s voice was rough as sandpaper and deep as the growl of the Impala, and Sam was glad that he was behind Dean, lest his brother see the shudder of desire that rippled down Sam’s back at the sound of Dean’s voice. He followed his brother down the hall of the Bunker, the scent becoming thicker and sweeter with every step they took. Sam felt rather than saw the Alpha-red paint over his hazel eyes, and he raked a hand through his shaggy auburn hair to avoid reaching for the obvious strain on his zipper.
The snarl that escaped Dean’s mouth was second only in startling as Sam’s own roar of anger that erupted out of Sam’s throat. Hot blooded Alpha ascended to the forefront and Sam barely stopped himself from charging forward, seeking out the scent to mateclaimbreedmineclaim. The scent was now horribly wrong, intoxicating sweetness nearly overridden by the artificial stench of Omega-in-coitus. Growls were ripping from both brothers, the sheer force of will to hold them in place causing them to shake uncontrollably. They only had the slightest handle on their instincts, which meant they needed to find the source now and figure out how to get rid of it before their Alphas took complete control. With momentous effort, Dean and Sam inched forward, but not before abandoning their jeans in the hall floor without so much as a thought. Had they been entirely nude, the Winchester brothers would be the perfect picture of sex. Hair and eyes wild, sweat shining against their flushed skin, nipples poking against the cotton fabric of their shirts, and cocks straining against the thin fabric of their boxers, oozing precome into the material. Sam gasped, and Dean made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, both brothers too stunned, too aroused, to try and move from their immobile spots in the open doorway of the den.
Dead center inside the den laid a mess of blankets, pillows, sheets, quilts, and even clothing that Dean and Sam vaguely recognized as their own from their bedrooms inside the Bunker. But it wasn’t the nest, an Omega’s nest, that held Dean and Sam’s undivided attention, but the Omega curled into a ball in the very center. The source of the scent that had bombarded them the second they stepped inside the Bunker. The Omega’s body shone with thick sweat, her honey gold hair a tangled mess that hid her face from view, as if the pillow she was shoving her face into as she whined and panted needily didn’t do that already. The Omega trembled violently, her free hand holding both a shirt of Dean and Sam’s to her face, as her other arm was taut down her body, her shaking hand pistoling a vibrating dildo in and out of her clenching pussy. It didn’t appear that she realized that Sam and Dean had discovered her, too busy trying to force herself to orgasm for the unknown umpteenth time with the toy, the toy the cause of Dean and Sam’s barely checked fury. The only thing that should be pumping in and out of her like that is Sam and Dean…
Phoebe stilled, and her hair sifted to the side, wide doe eyes tinted with Omega gold landing on Sam and Dean in the doorway, and she whimpered, tears rolling down her cheeks and she buried her face into her pillow. The toy slipped out of her and her scent was freed of the artificial stench, returning to the sweet scent of Omega-in-heat. “Bee?” Dean whispered, the strain in his voice the deceiver to the amount of control he had over his own body. Phoebe tensed and shuddered at the growl tone of his voice, barely stifling a whine. “You’re an Omega.” Dean breathed in astonishment, and his cock, however possible, swelled with even more blood. “When-How?” Against his mind’s wishes, Dean sunk to his knees and began crawling forward, and Phoebe watched him with tears gleaming in her eyes as he approached. “Always thought you were Beta.”
“Wanted you to think that.” Phoebe croaked, gasping at the pain rolling through her stomach and the emptiness of her cunt. Dean and Sam’s scent was rolling about the room and causing Phoebe’s head to swim like never before. Desire pooled in the bottom of her belly, but it refused to squash down even though this was the clearest she’d been thinking in days. But still, her words came out slurred, stuttered, and soft. “Knew how Dad felt ‘bout ‘Megas, knew that you felt same, and didn’t wanna lose you.”
“’Knew how Dad-‘” Sam muttered, finally speaking after his continued stunned silence, and his hazel eyes widened in shock. “Bee, when did you present?” Sam surrendered with a groan as a fresh wave of Phoebe’s scent wafted over him, sinking to his knees and crawling forward. Dean was kneeling, body trembling with exertion, at the edge of Phoebe’s nest, and Sam slowly joined his brother, snagging Dean’s hand needily. He needed the touch, the physical contact, to keep from reaching out to his sister. Dean’s shaking fingers intertwined and squeezed Sam’s own in assurance; Sam wasn’t the only one struggling to keep his Alpha in check. “Bee, when did you present?” Sam repeated firmly, an edge of the dominant Alpha overtaking his tone and Phoebe stiffened and whimpered in need. Her own fingers were clenched into the sheets of the nest she had built.
“Few weeks after you did.” Phoebe finally confessed, new tears escaping her eyes. “Late bloomer, missed cycle I think.”
“Jesus fuck.” Dean snarled, snapping his eyes shut to collect his thoughts. Their Omega, their mate, had been suffering in silence for thirteen years? “Damn it, Bee, why didn’t you say somethin’? How have you even hidden it for this long?”
“Suppressants. Blockers.” Phoebe gasped, fighting to hold her body still. Dean and Sam hadn’t stopped growling under their breaths since they discovered her, and the noises were only causing her inner Omega to fight against her control that much harder. Her instinct was to roll over and present to her Alphas, beg them to knot her, claim her, breed her…Phoebe shuddered and whimpered, thankful that she had yet to accept a mate. Her slick would have given her away at this point. “Stole suppressants and blockers when needed them. Been careful. Didn’t want to…” Phoebe cut herself off when she whined at the next wave of desire-fueled pain, and she clenched the sheets between her fingers to keep from reaching out.
“Bee…” Sam rasped. Dean was staring, open-mouthed, wide-eyed at his sister, quickly losing control to his inner Alpha.
“A-Alphas-Dean-Sammy, hurts.” Phoebe moaned. The heat haze was taking over too quickly for her to try and keep her mind clear, and she turned pleading, painful, and pleasured golden eyes onto the two Alphas kneeling next to her nest. The Alpha scarlet painted swiftly over their own emerald and hazel orbs in response to the golden hue in Phoebe’s, and pheromones leaked from their bodies and mixed headily with the Omega heat fragrance. “Alphas, please, hurts, need you.” Phoebe whined, reaching with trembling fingers toward them.
“God, Bee, are you sure?” Dean growled out, struggling to maintain the semblance of control that he still had. Phoebe was clearly succumbing to the fog of her heat, and Dean could feel Sam shaking beside him, little snarls and growls pushing past his baby brother’s lips. “Sammy-,”
Then Phoebe did what none of them expected her to do. She rolled until she was on her back and opened her legs, leaving herself on full view. “Mates.” She whispered, then arched her back as the clear fluid of her slick gushed from her opening. Her scent quadrupled in potency and flooded the room, and both brothers froze as it filled them to the brim.
“Fuck, Bee.” Sam growled, and suddenly he was gradually crawling forward with Dean flanking him on Phoebe’s right, eyes mirroring Sam’s scarlet red and glowing with lust and desire, locked on Phoebe’s gold, glimmering with need and anticipation. “So pretty like this, all spread out for your Alphas.” Phoebe whimpered when Dean trailed his fingers from her hip, up her ribcage, and circled around her breast, over her erect nipples. Goosebumps that didn’t already exist on her skin pickled her flesh at her older brother’s touch, and her chest heaved with her labored panting.
“Dee, oh god!” Phoebe cried, arching her back again when Dean dropped open mouthed kisses along her chest, his tongue lapping up the build-up of sweat and perspiration on her skin like it was nectar. Her arms were pinned above her head by strong fingers, and Phoebe blinked hazily up at Sam’s smirking face, the scarlet hue of his eyes causing her to whimper and tilt her face up. “Please, Alpha, please.” She didn’t even know what she was begging for, only knew that she wanted more of it. More of their touches, more of them. Dean had licked her chest mostly clean, and was now nuzzling into her hip, just above the line of her underwear, if she had any on. She wriggled her fingers with a whimper when she realized that Dean and Sam were still clad in their tees and boxers. She wanted them naked, wanted to feel their bare skin on hers; Phoebe just wanted them. Dean growled in approval and Sam chuckled darkly, and Phoebe blushed scarlet when she realized she had spoken her desires aloud. “Please.” She pleaded.
“How long have you been in heat, ‘Mega?” Sam demanded with a raised eyebrow. While the need was expected in Omegas going through a heat, Phoebe was walking the line between need and pure desperation and frustration. Phoebe just whined and wriggled, trying to free herself, and Sam increased the hold on her arms while Dean pinned her hips down to the soiled fluff of the nest. “How long, ‘Mega?” Sam snarled.
Phoebe blinked owlishly up at him before averting her eyes and muttering her answer. “Didn’t understand that, Bee. You gotta tell us.” Dean insisted with a convincing nip to her hipbone. Phoebe jolted and whimpered. “How long?”
“Started day after you left.” Phoebe finally whispered. Dean snarled in displeasure and Sam’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and Phoebe tried to make herself smaller, unintentionally showcasing her neck when she ducked her head to the side in shame.
“Eight days?” Sam clarified dangerously. Phoebe whimpered, but knew better to avoid the question, and just nodded silently, squeezing her eyes shut to avoid looking either of her Alphas in the eye. “And you’ve been using suppressants?” Tears leaked from Phoebe’s clenched eyes, but she nodded silently again. “Damn it, Omega, why?”
“Scared.” Phoebe croaked. “’Megas are breeders, bitches. Useless fuckholes. Didn’t want you to think that of me. Didn’t want you to hate me.” Her chest heaved with a near-sob. “Dad thought so, and knew he was right. Knew he would hate me even more, didn’t want you to hate me, too. Love you both so much, didn’t wanna lose you, too.” Phoebe froze when the hands that had been restraining her suddenly released her, and the denial, the rejection of her mates crashed down on her like a tidal wave. Sobs tore up from her throat and tears raced down her red cheeks, and she moved to curl in on herself in shame. She should have known better. She should have known that she was disgusting for loving her brothers the way she did. How could she have been so stupid-,
“Oh, baby, no.” Phoebe startled when she was hauled upward and settled in a lap, Dean’s lap, her head pushed into her older brother’s collarbone, his comforting and aroused scent relaxing her even if she wanted to push away. She nearly jerked out of Dean’s arms when she realized there was nothing separating her bare body from his. Dean’s skin was hot and flushed, soft as satin yet muscles sculpted as stone. Phoebe flushed and whimpered when something long and erect poked at her entrance, and she gasped as another gush of slick left her soaking. She flinched when Sam’s scent, warm and safe, enveloped her a split second before his bare chest pressed against her back, his erect nipples poking into her skin as he wrapped his arms around her. “Omega, look at me.” Dean commanded. Phoebe, against her own will, flicked her eyes up to find the scarlet Alpha hue nearly gone from Dean’s eyes, the compassionate emerald rimmed by the lustful scarlet. “You seriously think that?” Dean breathed in sorrow. “Baby, none of that is true. Not a single word, do you hear me? Omegas are not breeders, or bitches, or even fuckholes. You are not a breeding bitch or a useless fuckhole, and I don’t ever want to hear you say that about yourself again, do you understand?”
“That was Dad’s viewpoint on Omegas, not ours.” Sam murmured, nuzzling lovingly against her cheek. “I’d thought you knew by now that I almost never agreed with Dad on anything.” The younger Alpha teased and smiled when Phoebe and Dean chuckled. “You’re an Omega, Phoebe. That doesn’t make you any less than Dean and me, or any other Alpha. Omegas are just as strong as Alphas, after all, we Alphas can’t deal with or cope with the shit that you Omegas go through every day.” Sam winced against Phoebe’s back, clearly remembering the cursed object that changed Sam’s designation from Alpha to Omega for a day. Sam had been incapacitated for the entire day, unable to leave the bed where his body was in the middle of an intense heat until Dean and Phoebe managed to figure out the proper way to dispose of the cursed object. Sam blinked when he remembered how Phoebe had remained at his bedside the entire time, caring for him as if she knew exactly what she was doing, and now Sam realized with a heartbroken lurch that she did. Phoebe had known what she was doing, had coached Sam through the entire day like a pro because she was one. Looking back now, all of the signs had been there. Sam and Dean had just been idiot Alphas and hadn’t seen them.
Dean clearly had been thinking on the same train that Sam was, because his rough voice whispered an apology so broken that it caused Sam’s eyes to sting. “We shoulda seen, Beebee.” Dean mumbled into her tangled mass of honey gold curls. “Shoulda seen how much pain you were in; how much you were hurtin’. We coulda avoided all a’this. Coulda been the Alphas you needed.”
“You still want me?” Phoebe’s voice had never sounded as broken and small as it did now. Her scent, still heavy with the sweet fragrance of her heat, was tanged with both hope and fear, and her eyes mirrored those emotions.
“Baby,” Dean tipped Phoebe’s chin up with two fingers, where tearful doe brown met adoring emerald green. “I’ve always wanted you. Ever since my first rut, before that probably, knowing our luck, I’ve pined after you.” Dean swallowed thickly and ducked his eyes. “Both’a’you.” He whispered. His cheek was cupped by a rough and large palm, and Dean found himself staring past Phoebe and straight at Sam. Dean barely had time to blink before Sam tentatively pressed his lips to Dean’s own.
Dean growled deep in his chest and kissed back fervently, tangling his fingers through Sam’s shaggy auburn locks and forcing him to open so he could thrust his tongue inside. Sam gasped but fought back against his brother’s attack, and the kiss turned into a messy clash of teeth and tongue, both Alphas trying to assert their dominance over the other. It wasn’t until a breathless whine and something wet to soak his lap that Dean broke his kiss with Sam, panting lustfully, and looked down at the awed Omega still lounged in his arms. Phoebe’s eyes were shimmering gold as she gazed between them.
A sharp cry of surprise escaped Phoebe as she suddenly found herself on her back and her arms pinned above her head once again; a mouth took advantage of her surprise and attacked her own, teeth nipping her lips and tongue massaging the inside of her mouth. Phoebe moaned into it and kissed back as best she could under the assault, the scent closest to her telling her it was Sam. She didn’t have time to wonder where Dean was as her legs were pushed apart and a finger traced the seam of her delicately, as if she were a precious treasure. “God, ‘Mega, look at you.” Dean’s voice rumbled from nowhere, and Phoebe yelped as his tongue swiped along the same path his finger had taken. Dean purred against her opening and thrust his tongue inside, licking as if she were an ice cream cone or something. Phoebe’s back arched and her head tossed back, and Sam set his teeth on the left side of her neck, holding the tendon between his teeth.
“Are you ours, Omega?” Sam growled against her neck, and when she only whimpered, he bit down. Not hard enough to be a claiming bite, but hard enough to be a warning along with a growl.
“Yes, yes, Alpha!” She panted, then shuddered, her mouth opening in a wail as Dean giggled while he sat up, licking his chops free of her release and humming in satisfaction, his hands massaging her trembling thighs. It was only a second before Dean descended again, pushing in two fingers at once and purring happily when his sister’s walls clenched around him but didn’t resist him either. After a moment of massaging her walls, he slipped in a third finger, freezing for only a moment when she gasped and gurgled.
“She’s okay, Dee. Just got her mouth full now.” Sam’s voice was strained, and Dean blinked when he saw his brother’s cock, long and thick, disappearing down into Phoebe’s open and willing mouth. “Keep going, want her to be able to take us both.” Dean snarled in affirmation to that plan and Phoebe keened high in her throat, bobbing her head in earnest and causing Sam’s control to snap that much more and thrust his hips downward. Phoebe choked at the movement but didn’t try to stop Sam. If anything, the arousal in her scent doubled and Dean grinned darkly.
So, it seemed Phoebe liked it rough. Very well then. Phoebe wailed when Dean’s fingers slipped out and his cock slammed in without a warning. As an Omega, her body automatically stretched to accommodate him, and the amount of slick and prep she had been subjected to meant that Dean’s slide home was clean and easy. It didn’t make it any less startling or dazzling. Stars shone behind her eyelids as Phoebe clenched around Dean, her toes curling at their place beside Dean’s ears. “Fuck, ‘Mega, so tight.” Dean groaned, dropping his head as he panted, holding onto his willpower to starve off his knot. He wanted to enjoy this, had waited years for this… “Squeezin’ me so good, think we got enough room for Sammy?” Phoebe whined, and Sam slid out of her mouth.
“Yes, yes, Alpha, need you-,” Phoebe gasped, her voice rough, wrecked, and debauched as her body was. Her body shook from the pleasure her brothers were working into her. “Need you both in me, filling me up, claiming me-,” She babbled as Dean pulled back out and snapped his hips forward, eliciting a cry of ecstasy. An idea sparked in Dean’s mind and he lifted his sister, wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs over his waist.
“Sammy, get behind Bee.” Dean commanded breathlessly, mouthing at every bit of exposed skin he could reach between words. Sam scrambled to comply, and Dean groaned while Phoebe keened at the finger wiggling in alongside Dean’s cock. Dean slammed his lips against Phoebe’s in a sloppy kiss, biting at her swollen lips and moaning at the taste of Sam on her tongue. Dean gave shallow thrusts to give Phoebe something to focus on besides Sam’s careful prepping; the youngest Winchester had worked up to a second finger by now, scissoring and stretching her already abused opening. Phoebe was sobbing in Dean’s neck, her petite frame shivering from the pleasure, her arms and legs tight around Dean like she wanted to burrow into him. “You okay?” Dean breathed in her ear before nipping the shell. The only answer he received was a mewling whine and her fingernails scraping against his shoulder blades.
“No, no-Alpha, please, don’t stop, need it need you-,” Phoebe cried when Dean stopped, intending to give her a moment of reprieve. They had stimulated her so much already on top of an overlong heat, and the last thing either brother wanted was to hurt her.
“Shh, Shh, baby, it’s okay. We’re here, we’ll take care a’ya.” Dean soothed and petted her hair away from her face, kissing both cheeks, eyebrows, eyelids and nose before pecking her lips. “Sammy.” Dean gasped at the third finger scraping alongside his cock.
“Nearly there, Dee, nearly there.” Sam grunted between bites and kisses across Phoebe’s back and shoulders, one hand wrapped around the base of his cock to starve off the knot that had started to form when he had fucked Phoebe’s mouth. “Gonna slide in now, you ready?” Sam murmured, positioning himself but waiting for the all-clear. He refused to cause his mates any pain. He wanted this to be good for her, to show her that Omegas were to be cherished, not shunned like John Winchester believed. When Dean nodded frantically from his place gently bouncing Phoebe on his cock, Sam guided his own inside and nearly howled at the tight fit. Phoebe did howl, and Dean snarled at the drag of Sam’s thick cock against his own, pressing him tighter to Phoebe’s clenching walls. Sam was forced to stop halfway in. “Bee, sweetie, you gotta relax for me.” Sam groaned. Phoebe was tense, shaking and whimpering between her brothers, and her tension refused to allow the whole of Sam to slide inside.
“Come on, Bee, it’s okay, we got ya. We’re here, it’s okay.” Dean mumbled in one ear as Sam whispered reassurances in the other, Dean tweaking and rubbing her nipples between his fingers as Sam played with her ass cheeks, squeezing and massaging. Slowly, Phoebe relaxed, and Sam slid home, burying his head in the crook of her neck to gather his bearings. He was fully seated inside his own sister alongside his older brother.
“Alphas,” Phoebe slurred, her head lolling on Dean’s shoulder. “Please…” Dean shifted and the pleasure racing down his spine was like fireworks exploding underneath his skin. Sam groaned and thrust shallowly upward, and soon both brothers were growling and pounding into their sister, who whined and writhed in between them. Sam’s moans were deep and guttural, Phoebe’s were high-pitched and keening, and Dean whispered filth and dirt into both their ears. Their orgasms crashed down on them like tidal waves and with no warning; Phoebe screamed as two sets of teeth belonging to roaring Alphas cut through her skin on her neck like it was butter, a second wave of orgasm taking over her body as she felt the bond she had only ever read about clicking into place. She was barely aware of Dean and Sam’s knots popping inside her, only moaned when she was split open even more, slumping like a rag doll between their heaving and vibrating chests.
Phoebe barely registered the softness beneath her as she slipped into darkness.
“I think we broke her.” Dean rasped fondly, lapping at his mating mark on Phoebe’s pale skin and purring at the sight of it. His hips, along with Sam’s, continued to circle as they pumped come inside of their unconscious sister. Sam chuckled, and the brothers worked together to lay them on their sides in the nest, Phoebe protectively snuggled between them as she slept.
“At the very least, we fucked the heat out of her.” Sam pointed out tiredly. He nosed at Phoebe’s throat, no longer finding the sweet twang of a heat but loving his sister’s scent nonetheless. It was a little different than before, carried just a bit of Sam and Dean deep within, and Sam’s Alpha purred in contentment at knowing that their Omega was spoken for. “Can’t smell it anymore.” Dean hummed and pecked Sam on the lips with a warm smile.
“Get some sleep, Sammy.” Dean commanded with a yawn. “We have thirteen years to make up to our mate, and I wanna start by a hot bath as soon as she’s awake and aware, followed by her favorite breakfast.” Sam purred and bumped his nose against Dean’s before settling down behind Phoebe and tucking her close to his chest. “Night bitch.” Dean yawned before his eyes slipped shut, a smile gracing his lips at Sam’s loving reply.