ultraviolet9a

>> Coven

TITLE: Coven

AUTHOR:

ultraviolet9a
SPOILER: none.

GENRE: Gen.

CHARACTERS: Sam and Dean, OCs

SUMMARY: They got to buy new shoes. Then Dean gets kidnapped. Kidnapping ain’t so bad. Till Sam shows up. Verges on the cracktastic side of life, but, come on. Who wouldn’t want Dean Winchester wrapped up with pink ribbon as a birthday gift, huh?

RATING: PG-16 for cussing and some sexual references. Bad, bad Dean.
FEEDBACK: Dude…duh.
DISCLAIMER: *sigh* I don’t own them. If I did life would have been so different (for one thing they’d always be naked. Pink ribbon is optional).

NOTE: This is for

found_fic_spnchallenge nr4. It’s also for the shiny

theladyscribe’s birthday, which was some time ago and I’m way late and everything but…you know.

Uhm…it’s also part of what, for lack of a better term, I call my Shoe-verse. Reading the two stories prior to this one is not exactly required but would be awesome ~~and I would love you forever~~. (And would explain the shoes and the spaceship reference as well as a certain officer).

“This is fucking stupid,” Dean says.

“Yes, it is.”

Sam is gloating and Dean would have liked to smack his head…

“Ouch!”

…which he does.

“Dude, why can’t I just give you the money?”

“Because.”

“It’s not like you didn’t get your revenge.”

Sam stops dead in his tracks and looks at his brother.

“Dean. Hardly qualifies as revenge.”

“Hey, I was the one tied to a…”

“And you were the one calling Officer Candy few hours later and having her fuck your brains out. Nope, doesn’t qualify.”

Dean gloats juuust a bit.

“Well, yeah. Oh Sammy, the things Candy could do with her tongue…”

“I don’t. want. to. know.”

“…and just a pair of… Look out, Sam!”

Dean grabs his brother by the arm just in time to stop him from stepping on…

“…oh God. Gross,” Sam says. Disgust seems to seep from every pore of his being.

Someone has puked on the pavement, orange-red vomit spread across the surface like an Exorcist decoration.

Sam walks by it wrinkling his nose when he realizes Dean is no longer by his side. He turns. His brother is still looking at the vomit in what seems rapt fascination.

“Hey, Sammy,” he says. “Com’ere.”

Sam rolls his eyes and takes a step back, does his patented half shrug, palms open to his brother.

“What?!”

Dean looks at him.

“It’s the shape of a dog.” He chuckles. “The guy puked a dog out of his guts.”

“A dog.” Sam takes his place by his brother’s side following Dean’s pointing finger, and did he just mention, gross? “Dean, it’s vomit.”

“Yeah, but…” Dean’s finger moves in the air. “Can’t you make out the ears and the mouth and the eye and…”

“Dude, what is this, fucking Rorschach?”

“Come on, Sammy,” Dean says looking at his brother in absolute glee, complete with head-nod and eyebrow-waggle. “It’s a dog made of puke! How awesome is that, huh?”

Sam closes his eyes.

“Dean?” he says. “Walk.”

So they do.

****

Dean rolls his eyes.

“Make up your mind, princess,” he says. They’ve been in this place for what seems like forever –barely twenty minutes actually- and Sam has tried out at least one hundred pairs –only six really- and…

“Dude, it’s just a pair of sneakers. Get on with it, won’t you? Don’t you think I’ve been punished enough?”

Sam’s smile is sunny.

“No.”

“Oh come on…that first pair you tried on was really nice. Absolutely.”

“Wasn’t expensive enough.”

“Dude!”

“That’s what you get when you make me throw away my favourite shoes. That’s what you also get when you laugh at my shoe size.”

“Those ain’t shoes, Sam, they’re mini boats.”

“That’s just cuz you’re short. And no, Dean, you won’t hit on the shop assistant,” Sam says without looking up and hears Dean huff how Sam is being a total bitch and besides, not like the shop assistant wasn’t checking him out anyway.

****

“Happy?” Dean says. Sam moves his feet this way and that, like some commercial babe.

“I like them.”

Dean rolls his eyes.

“Oh thank fucking Christ.”

Sam moves his feet a bit more back and forth and when he looks up again, Dean is no longer there.

****

Darkness. ShoestoreSambitchingshoes. HotbabeshopassistantKelly….What the fuck?! Dean gets up with a slight groan. And then his mouth drops ever so slightly.

Because he knows he’s been kidnapped and when one is kidnapped he expects to find himself tied up in a dungeon or something. Well, he is tied up (and what the hell is this thing with the universe wanting him tied up, huh?) with pink string on a bed in a spotlight centre, in the middle of some fucked up darkness around him and he doesn’t have his clothes on and oh please freaking Christ don’t let this be some pervert guy and just…

What the fuck?!

Is that a ribbon around his…?!

He doesn’t have time to complete that thought.

Candles are lit around him and in their glow Dean can see.

He is surrounded by women.

****

“I think I had a fantasy about this once,” he mutters but not loud enough, because right now? Things aren’t looking good, though admittedly, most of the women are. Babe good. One of them walks to him, places herself in the spotlight and despite his predicament he can’t help the hitch of breath nor the instinctive smile because she is absolutely fucking gorgeous with her curves and her streaming red hair and her cheekbones and that pouty mouth and…

“What the hell is going on?” he asks and moves his hands, though he already knows that they won’t budge. The redhead looks him up and down.

“You were right, Kelly,” she says. Her voice is a voice that could make you come with a phone call, deep, husky. “He is a fine specimen indeed.”

Fine specimen? For a few moments he is convinced that they are the occupants of the spaceship he scribbled a message on weeks ago and he finds himself opening his mouth saying

“Hey, if this is about the Your Cak is Ugly thing… It totally wipes off. The spaceship I mean.”

The redhead looks at him bemused.

“What spaceship? You’re still feeling dizzy, sugar? Because there’s nothing ugly about what I see.”

And there are the first stirs of life in his groin and bad timing, bad timing, bad timing. Hang on a sec. Kelly?

“Kelly?” he says, eyes searching in the dim light till he spots her. The shop assistant. “Oh you…”

“Wasn’t entirely my doing,” she smiles. “Candy spotted you first.”

Candy? And Dean’s eyes are searching frantically again and there she is, except her hair is loose and there is no uniform and her name is really Candy?

“What do you want?” He’s weary. It’s like a fucking conspiracy of womanhood against him. He hopes Sam will find him soon and dear god, the mere thought kills him. Here he is naked, with a bunch of babes around him and he is terrified. It’s not how his fantasy went, that’s for sure.

“We’re the Coven of the Twelve Moons,” the hot redhead says. “Today is my birthday. It’s time.”

“Time for what?”

“I need to shed my purity and go to a higher level.”

“Huh?”

She sighs, looks at her sisters in a Boy he looks good but he ain’t that smart, is he? kind of way.

“I need to lose my virginity with the best male specimen. My sisters thought you are it.”

“Whoa. Rewind. On the best male specimen, total yes. But. You. A virgin? How old are you?”

She smiles.

“Twenty-three.”

“No way you’re a virgin then. You been hoaxed, people. ‘Sides, you’re way too hot.”

“I am a virgin,” she says. “And I will offer myself to you and do as you bid and I shall be a virgin no more.”

“Sweetheart, you didn’t have to kidnap me for that. I’d volunteer, believe me. So where’s the catch?”

“There is a ritual. Your sperm will act as a bonding agent, reinforcing the bond between us, sisters.”

Dean blinks.

“Are you telling me that you want me to first pop your cherry and then get it on with every single one of you?”

“Crude description, but accurate.”

He squints.

“There’s a catch. Let me guess, you need my sperm to have babies?”

“That would be the Amazons, and no. Your sperm is just part of the coitus, a symbolic union of everyone. The only catch is, the ribbon mustn’t go off, but must be drenched in the fluids of our holy union.”

Dean looks at them.

“Any chance of a threesome?”

“You’ve been watching way too much Xena, but if you so wish. We will comply.”

Dean grins.

“Awesome.”

****

Dean Winchester doesn’t know if it’s the babe’s real birthday, but the thing is he feels like it’s his.

He is untied on the bed, redhead draping around him in a totally unvirgin kind of way and the rest of the women are waiting around him and…well…he’s got a bit of a stage fright really and…he should have been feeling bad at being…uhm…exploited but…well. He doesn’t.

Easy plan. Screw, leave. No strings attached. Except…you know. For the ribbon.

“Let the deflowering begin,” he chuckles.

That’s when the fire alarm breaks out.

****

The women are gone in seconds and he follows them, sheet around him like some fucking porn star or some lame cheesy movie, when out of a corridor a hand grabs him and pulls him inside.

“Sam?”

“Dean, are you alright? Come on, we got to go, you’ll get dressed in the car.”

“Sam?” he asks again and there are his clothes in his brother’s arms.

“Took me a while to find a way to distract them,” Sam says. “Are you alright, Dean, they didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“Oh Sam,” Dean says and he realizes he’s at the verge of tears.

“Dean, what did they do to you?” Sam’s face is a mask of worry at his brother’s tears. “Oh my god, they did hurt you!”

“Hurt me? Aw man, Sammy, she was hott! Why’d you have to rescue me?”

But he’s being dragged through corridors towards daylight and the Impala, Sam muttering about Dean being still hazy and drugged, sheet flapping around him, when Sam’s eyes widen and he almost trips over himself.

“Dude, is that ribbon around your… Oh god, please let me go blind.”

****

Three days later and Dean is still inconsolable.

“Dude…just this one time I wish you either had rescued me from the very beginning or you didn’t rescue me at all. Because knowing what I could be doing right now…”

“No way you’d have the stamina,” Sam says nonchalantly. “Besides, I would have come sooner, but the shoes weren’t comfy enough for speed.”

Dean looks daggers at him.

“I should have let you step in the puke.”

“Been there done that.” Sam grins. “But even so, Dean… I think I got my revenge after all. Truce?”

“No.”

“Come on, I even got you a gift to make you feel better.”

Dean rolls his eyes.

“Fine. Truce. You sissy.”

“Cool. Catch!”

Dean does. In his hand is a spool of bright new shiny pink ribbon.

-The End.

SIDENOTE: theladyscribe’s fic wish: "And I think you may have your fic prompt right there, if you're prepared to tackle something a bit cracktastic (witches steal Dean for the birthday of the leader of their coven and Sam comes to the rescue... but Dean wasn't quite ready to be rescued) ("Aww man, Sammy, she was hott!")."