s.

Ruby shifted beside you, turning to face you. Her lips brushed your cheek once, then again.

"You were so perfect last night."

You swallowed. Your mouth opened, but nothing came out. She smiled like that was expected. Like your silence made her proud.

"It's okay if it's a little fuzzy. First times are always overwhelming."

She tucked your hair behind your ear. Her nails grazed your temple. You still hadn't looked at Sam—couldn't. Not yet.

"You wanted it, sweetheart," she said gently, like a mother soothing a frightened child. "You were begging. You said please."

Your chest fluttered. "I... I think I remember..."

"You don't have to remember everything," Ruby whispered. "That's what we're here for."

She kissed your forehead.

"We'll take care of you. Always."

There was movement behind you. A shift in the mattress. You felt a hand—his hand—settle against your hip. Sam didn't speak. But his fingers curled there, steady. Warm.

Ruby smiled over your shoulder. "See?" She whispered. "He's been watching you all morning. Like he's afraid you'll disappear."

You turned your face into the pillow. Your eyes stung.

"Did I..." Your voice cracked. "Was I... okay?"

Ruby made a delighted sound. She cupped your chin and turned your face back toward her.

"You were beautiful. The way you begged? The way you cried?" Her smile was sharp, but her voice stayed sweet. "I've never seen anyone fall apart so perfectly."

You flushed, eyes wide. She kissed your lips—soft, sweet, claiming.

"And we're just getting started, sweet thing."

The days started to blur after that first night.

You never talked about it—not really. Not out loud. Ruby was always near, smiling like she had a secret, her touch everywhere. She'd slip into bed behind you in the mornings, press up against your back and guide your hand down between her legs, whispering "just like that, sweet thing. Be gentle, Mommy's sensitive."

You never knew where to look when she said that. Mommy.

Sometimes she'd pull you into motel bathrooms after their hunts, tug your shirt over your head with a laugh and drag you into the shower with her. She'd press her wet chest to yours, tilt your chin up, and say:

"You like being close to me, don't you?"

You always nodded. You always meant it. It was easier than asking why Sam never looked you in the eye afterward.

He was different now. Quieter. Distant. Sometimes he wouldn't touch you for days—just sit in the corner, jaw tight, fingers twitching, like he was trying to hold something back. Other times—when he came back from wherever Ruby took him, his pupils blown wide and his hands shaking—he'd look at you again. Like that night. Like he was starving.

One night, you woke to the door slamming. You stayed very still beneath the blanket. You heard Ruby's voice, low and amused.

"Told you she missed you."

Then Sam was on top of you—touching you through your clothes, rough and fast and silent while Ruby sat on the edge of the bed and smiled like a cat watching something small try to run.

You came twice before he even kissed you. You were crying by the end of it. Ruby shushed you, pet your hair, said:

"You're such a sweet little thing. So eager to please."

You didn't know what you'd done right. But you were glad you'd done it.

They did not take you again. Not like that first night. Sometimes Sam kissed you like he meant it, then left the room like he was in pain. Sometimes Ruby curled up behind you and whispered things that made your cheeks burn:

"You miss it, don't you? Having Daddy inside you." or, "Bet that pretty little body aches for him."

Daddy.

You didn't answer. But she always laughed like she already knew.

You started sleeping between them. Not always—but often enough. Ruby would call you sweet thing in the dark, stroke your back while Sam breathed hard behind you like he was trying not to fall apart.

You thought maybe you'd done something wrong. Maybe you weren't what they wanted. But then Ruby would smile that slow, gleaming smile and say:

"You're still learning, baby. We're just teaching you how to be good."

And you believed her, because when Ruby smiled like that, it was easy to forget anything else.

The rain had started sometime after midnight.

You'd curled up on the little armchair in the corner of the motel room, legs tucked under Sam's old shirt, knees pressed to your chest. The fabric smelled like him. Like soap and leather and something darker you could never quite name.

You'd been waiting for hours.

Ruby and Sam had gone out again. Another hunt. Another night where you weren't invited. You hadn't even asked this time—you already knew what they'd say.

"It's too dangerous."

"You're not ready."

"Just be good and wait for us."

And you were good. Always. So why didn't they want you?

You stared out the rain-speckled window, the night outside blurred and slick with water, and tried not to cry.

You failed.

You didn't sob. Not loudly. Just a few hiccupped breaths, your cheek pressed to your knees, your eyes hot. You weren't even sure what hurt more—the ache between your thighs from the memories they gave you, or the hollow in your chest from how distant they felt since.

You thought, stupidly, that they might come back and see you like this and think you were pathetic.

But then the door burst open, and you startled violently, lifting your head as Ruby strode in first—her coat soaked through, curls dripping, mouth parted in laughter. Sam followed close behind, jaw set, eyes wild.

Your breath caught.

He had that look again. Pupils blown wide. Shoulders stiff. His hands were clenched at his sides, arms crossed, like he needed to hold himself still or he'd do something about it.

And Ruby? Ruby saw you immediately. Her eyes lit up the second she caught the tear tracks down your face.

"Oh, sweet thing—"

She dropped to her knees in front of you before you could even wipe your face.

"Why are you crying?" Her voice was low and syrupy. "What's happened, hmm?"

You tried to speak—tried—but she didn't really let you. She leaned forward, hands sliding up your bare legs under the hem of Sam's shirt. Her touch was warm, familiar, too much.

"You miss us?" She cooed. "Were you lonely while Mommy and Daddy were out working?"

You flushed instantly, eyes wide. You'd never called them that, but she'd been saying it for weeks. Referring to herself as Mommy, and Sam as Daddy. You weren't sure how to feel about it.

"I—I wasn't—"

Her fingers pushed higher. And then she gasped. A hand flying to her mouth in mock-shock, eyes glittering with delight.

"Oh my God, baby..." Her voice dropped to a sultry whisper. "No panties?"

You went stiff.

Sam made a choked sound behind her.

"Did you do that on purpose?" Ruby asked sweetly, sliding her hands to your hips. "Were you waiting here all soft and needy, hoping we'd find you like this?"

"N-no, I just—"

"Just what?" She purred, crawling her fingers higher, dragging her nails lightly against your inner thighs. "Just missed us so much you got wet waiting?"

You whimpered. Ruby looked over her shoulder, smiling at Sam like she'd just opened a birthday present.

"She's dripping," she said casually. "You wanna see?"

Sam didn't speak. He didn't need to. His chest was heaving, nostrils flared, hands clenched tighter now.

Ruby turned back to you, voice dropping to a gentle hum.

"You don't have to cry anymore, baby. You're not in trouble." She leaned forward, lips brushing your cheek, your temple, your ear. "You're perfect. You just need to remember where you belong."

Ruby smiled like a secret, her hands still stroking slow, taunting lines along your inner thighs.

You were burning. Face hot, legs twitching, heart thudding like a war drum in your chest. Sam's shirt had bunched high on your hips now, and your bare legs trembled beneath Ruby's touch, your breath catching every time her fingertips slipped just a little too close.

"So sensitive," she whispered, brushing her knuckles just below where you ached. "You missed us this much, sweet thing?"

You couldn't look at her. Or Sam. You stared at the window, the glass dark with rain, and swallowed hard.

"I didn't mean to—"

"Shhh." Ruby leaned in, her breath warm on your skin. "It's okay. We like you needy."

She reached up and curled her fingers around your thighs, dragging them open with gentle insistence, her nails scraping lightly. You whimpered.

"That's it," she cooed, eyes flicking up to yours. "Let Mommy see."

You flinched at the word. Your face went red so fast it felt like fire. Ruby noticed, of course. She always did. She purred.

"Ohhh, that's what it is. That little word's too much for you, huh?"

You bit your lip, hard.

Sam was still standing by the door, arms crossed, his breathing shallow. He hadn't moved, but his eyes never left you. They were so dark now you could barely see the hazel. You knew that look.

"Sam," Ruby called, her voice syrup-thick. "You're just gonna stand there and let me have all the fun?"

He didn't answer. But his jaw flexed. His nostrils flared. He was breathing through it—barely.

"Look how pretty she is," Ruby murmured, dipping her fingers between your legs. "Already so wet, Sam. And she's been crying for us."

You moaned. Just a soft, shattered thing as she brushed your clit with two fingers, slow and gentle, like she had all the time in the world to destroy you.

"Bet Daddy missed this little pussy too," she said, looking right at him. "Bet he's aching just thinking about what it felt like wrapped around him."

You made a broken noise, burying your face in your hands, thighs twitching.

Ruby grinned.

"Aw, baby. Getting shy now?" Her fingers dipped lower—just once. A teasing press that made your whole body jolt. "You wanna come, don't you?"

You nodded frantically.

"Then ask for it."

Your voice cracked. "P-please—"

"Not like that, sweet thing." Her tone dropped. Lush. Dangerous. "Say it the right way."

You shook your head, face burning, breath hitching.

"Can't," you whispered.

"Yes, you can." She leaned forward and licked a slow, deliberate stripe up your inner thigh. "You say Mommy, and I'll let you come. I'll even get Daddy to come over here and give you a kiss for being so good."

You whined, thighs trembling.

"Say it," she whispered, her fingers circling your clit now in slow, devastating spirals. "You're doing so well, sweet girl. Don't you want to be good for us?"

Sam groaned softly. You heard it. Low and guttural in the back of his throat.

"He's watching," Ruby said. "He's waiting for you. Don't you want him to see what a good little girl you are?"

Your breath broke. Your body arched. You felt the pressure building—tight and unbearable.

"Say it," she whispered again. "Say it, and you can come."

You were crying again. Not from sadness. From overwhelm. From everything. From her touch and his stare and the ache in your chest.

"M-Mommy—"

Ruby gasped like you'd given her a gift.

"There she is."

And then she curled her fingers inside you and you shattered. You came hard—sobbing, breath broken, back arched—your thighs trembling around Ruby as her fingers fucked you through it like she hadn't even noticed the way your voice cracked around that first desperate Mommy.

But she noticed. Of course she did. And she was grinning.

"There she is," she murmured, fucking you faster now, fingers soaked. "That's my good girl. You just needed a little push."

Your head lolled back, lips parted, body twitching beneath her. You barely registered the way Sam's breath hitched again from across the room. But Ruby did. She glanced at him over her shoulder, eyes glittering with dark delight.

"Still just standing there like a kicked puppy, huh?" She said, mock-sweet, fingers not slowing in the slightest. "How long are you gonna keep pretending you're better than this?"

He didn't answer. He never answered when she spoke like that—just stood there, shaking, breathing too hard, eyes glued to where her fingers disappeared inside you, again and again.

"She's begging for it," Ruby went on, her voice still syrupy, her fingers pressing harder now, faster. "She already called me Mommy. What's the matter, Sammy? You afraid if she says your name, you'll finally admit what you really are?"

Sam's jaw clenched.

Ruby looked back at you, her eyes suddenly soft. Gentle.

"Sweet thing," she whispered. "You want him, don't you?"

You whined. Nodded.

"Then ask him to come over," she said, her fingers pressing deep. "Use your words, baby. Ask Daddy to come take what's his."

You sobbed again. It was too much—your body hot and wet and raw, her touch relentless, Sam's stare scorching through you. You couldn't breathe. Still, you turned your head toward him, trembling, shame thick in your chest.

"Please..." Your voice cracked. "P-please come over..."

He didn't move. His fists were clenched at his sides. His mouth was parted, his chest rising and falling like he'd just run miles.

"Say it," Ruby whispered. Her fingers curled inside you, found that spot again, and pressed. "Say it right, baby. Call him what he is."

You squeaked—your hips jolted. Your breath caught in your throat.

"D-Daddy—"

Sam snapped.

He was across the room before you blinked, hand fisting in Ruby's hair as he dragged her up and crashed his mouth to hers—hungry, violent, a kiss full of frustration and filth and everything he hadn't said in days.

Ruby moaned into it, triumphant. And then he shoved her away. She stumbled back, laughing. And Sam grabbed you.

"Mine," he growled, voice ruined. "Fucking mine—"

He hauled you into his arms, kissed you like he needed to own your mouth again, biting at your lip, panting against your skin, muttering filth between each frantic kiss.

"You don't fucking say that unless you mean it—you don't call me that unless you want me to ruin you... you're not getting away now, baby—never."

His hands were everywhere. Gripping your thighs, your ass, one hand cupping the back of your neck like he wanted to keep you still while he kissed you until your lips bruised.

Ruby just watched, licking her lips.

"Told you she'd be perfect."

And Sam? He didn't even hear her. He was too busy breaking your mouth with his.

You were clinging to Sam's chest, your breath hot and fast against his throat, his hands gripping your thighs so tight it felt like bruises blooming. Your lips were swollen, your whole body throbbing from Ruby's fingers, and your mind was still spinning when she spoke again—voice bright and cruel with delight.

"She's gonna get on her knees for you, Sammy."

Your head whipped around so fast it made you dizzy.

"Wh-what?"

Ruby smiled at you like you were being silly.

"Oh, sweet thing," she cooed. "You'll love it. I promise."

Sam made a sound—almost a whimper, deep and guttural—and buried his face in your neck for a second, breathing hard.

"Jesus Christ..."

"Don't blaspheme in front of the baby," Ruby said mock-innocently. "She's still pure. For now."

You blinked at her, lips parting, still too dazed to form anything more than a breathy, high-pitched: "But... I don't— I don't know how—"

Ruby's palm cracked lightly across your ass, making you squeak and press harder against Sam, the sting blooming instantly.

"Don't talk back," she said, still smiling. "You're gonna be a good girl and let Daddy teach you."

Your chest fluttered. Your thighs clenched. You nodded, still wide-eyed and hot-faced. Sam's head dropped back—he groaned, eyes fluttering shut for a second before he looked back at you, his pupils still black around the edges.

"You wanna make me happy, baby?" He asked hoarsely.

Your stomach flipped. You nodded.

"Yeah—yes—I do..."

He exhaled like he'd been punched, then gently let your legs slide down his hips until your feet hit the carpet again. You stood there, trembling between them, eyes flicking up at Sam—tall, wrecked, lips bitten raw—and over to Ruby, who raised a brow at you and tilted her chin down toward the floor at his feet.

Then back to you. A silent question.

Well?

You nodded. Your knees hit the carpet with a soft thud. You looked up. And Sam looked like he was about to levitate.

"Holy fuck..."

Ruby moved behind you, her hands running down your arms, smoothing your hair back over your shoulders.

"That's it," she whispered, kissing the crown of your head. "So obedient. You make Mommy so proud."

You flushed, swallowing hard as your hands rose shakily to Sam's belt. You fumbled—nervous, trembling—but he didn't move. He just watched you, his chest heaving, his jaw clenched tight.

Ruby leaned down behind you, her lips brushing your ear. "He's waited so long for this, sweet thing," she whispered. "You're making his dreams come true."

Your fingers slipped under the waistband of his jeans, tugging them down with shaky resolve. You pressed a soft kiss to the skin just below his navel. Then another, lower. You looked up again, lips parting, and Sam's eyes rolled back for a second, his fists clenched tight at his sides.

Ruby giggled behind you, delighted.

"Go slow," she whispered. "Get used to it. Be curious. He likes that."

You nodded. And then you leaned in—tentative, gentle—your lips ghosting over the skin, warm and unfamiliar. You licked softly, unsure, and Sam groaned so deep it rattled through his ribs.

Ruby reached around, cupping your jaw lightly, her other hand stroking your back.

"That's it, baby. So good. Such a fast learner."

Above you, Sam's hand fisted in Ruby's hair again, and they kissed—filthy, desperate—while you knelt below them like something consecrated. Ruby's hands were steady on your shoulders, guiding your mouth, murmuring quiet praise between kisses while Sam stood above you like a man on the edge of something catastrophic.

"That's it, baby," she whispered. "Make him feel good. You want to make Daddy proud, don't you?"

You nodded. You did. You always did.

Your fingers fumbled with the waistband of his boxers, the rough denim of his jeans still clinging low to his hips. You pressed a kiss just below his navel again, licked lightly at the skin, tasted sweat and salt. Sam groaned above you, deep and desperate, his hips twitching forward just a little.

You froze.

"It's okay," Ruby said, voice like warm silk. "Just your Daddy needing you. You can give him more, can't you, sweet thing?"

She guided your hand forward. You wrapped your fingers around him, shaky and curious, and brought your mouth lower. Your lips brushed the tip. You kissed. Licked. Gentle.

Then Ruby's hand pressed more firmly on the back of your head.

"Open wider."

You gasped, startled, but obeyed, letting her guide you down slowly. Until it was too much. You gagged, pulled back with a soft choke, eyes wide and watering.

"Oh baby," Ruby giggled. "You'll get there. It just takes practice."

Sam growled. It wasn't a sound of pleasure. It was warning. He reached down, fisted Ruby's shirt, and yanked her forward—kissed her hard, open-mouthed, filthy—and then shoved her back with a snarl.

"Don't fucking do that," he snapped. "She's not ready."

Ruby laughed. Like he'd just complimented her.

And Sam dropped. Dropped to his knees in front of you like something holy, grabbed your face in both hands, and kissed you. Sloppy. Deep. Wet. His own taste still on your lips. His tongue in your mouth like he needed to take something back.

"You okay?" He whispered against your lips, voice wrecked.

You nodded.

"Good," he breathed. "Because I'm done pretending."

He scooped you up.

You gasped, arms wrapping around his neck, your legs dangling off his forearms as he stood—eyes wild, mouth parted, like something ravenous. He carried you to the bed. Laid you down. Reverent. Rough.

Ruby followed, crawling beside you like smoke.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" She purred, fingers brushing your thighs. "You've been so good for us. You earned this."

Your breath caught. Your chest was tight. Sam was tugging your shirt up, pushing it over your head, and Ruby kissed your shoulder as it passed.

"You're not a virgin anymore, sweet thing," she whispered. "But this is still new. This is still the first time you know what it means."

You whimpered.

Sam kissed down your chest, over your ribs, back up to your jaw, his stubble scratching, his mouth so hot. He settled between your legs and looked down at you like he was watching something sacred die.

"I haven't stopped thinking about this," he said. "Never. Not once."

You nodded, legs trembling.

"Please..."

That was all it took.

He entered you slow, careful, but deep. And your back arched. Ruby kissed your mouth. Sam cursed through gritted teeth.

"Fucking tight," he panted. "Still feels like the first time."

Ruby's hand stroked your hair, gentle and possessive.

"Tell him he's yours," she murmured. "Tell Daddy how good he makes you feel."

You did. And Sam lost it. He started moving faster—harder—his hands gripping your hips like he wanted to disappear inside you.

"If I'm going to hell for this..." His voice was raw, broken. "...I'm taking you with me."

You sobbed—pleasure and panic and perfect surrender—and Ruby smiled like a queen. Your breath came in gasps—short, panicked, overwhelmed. Sam was deep inside you, his rhythm turning frantic, brutal. Your body rocked with every thrust, thighs trembling, hands scrabbling uselessly at the sheets.

"You feel this?" He growled, voice unrecognisable. "This is what you fucking do to me."

You whimpered—yes—but it came out broken, like a sob.

Ruby was closer to you now, her body pressed to your side, her lips at your ear. "You're doing so good, sweet thing," she whispered. "Taking Daddy so well."

Sam moaned, head dropping low, his hands tightening on your waist.

"Don't say that," he hissed, though he didn't stop. "She doesn't know what that means—"

"She doesn't need to," Ruby crooned. "She just knows she wants it."

She kissed your cheek, your neck, her fingers brushing gently over your chest, down your belly, until she found the spot where Sam was splitting you open and rubbed.

You screamed. Your legs kicked, tears spilled over your cheeks, your hands flew to Ruby's wrist—but she didn't stop. Sam didn't stop.

"You gonna come again?" Ruby whispered. "You gonna soak Daddy's cock like a good little thing?"

"F-fuck—Ruby—" Sam panted.

You nodded—couldn't form words—but your body answered for you. Your back arched, your toes curled, and you let out a broken, cracked sob as everything snapped. Your orgasm hit like a flood.

Sam swore, hips stuttering as your body clenched down on him, dragging him under with you.

"Shit—shit, I'm gonna—"

Ruby kissed your open mouth just as Sam groaned loud and deep, burying himself to the hilt as he came—hard—inside you, his grip on your hips bruising, his chest shaking with the force of it.

Everything blurred after that. You were floating. Crying. Ruby was kissing your temple, whispering praise. Sam was slumped over you, face in your neck, murmuring "mine" like a mantra.

"Look at you," Ruby whispered, brushing sweaty hair from your forehead. "Completely ours now."

You couldn't even nod. You just laid there, limp and full and ruined. And you didn't want to be anywhere else.

Ruby smiled like she'd seen it all before. Like every soft sob you gave them was prophesied. Like she'd stood at the gates of Eden once and whispered to Eve—not with threats, but with promises.

"It's not evil, sweet thing," she murmured, lips against your temple. "It's just love. We're just teaching you how to feel it."

She curled around you like smoke, like scripture rewritten, like the serpent who never lied—just spoke too softly to resist.

"Let the world call it sin," she said. "We'll call it devotion."

And you? You believed her. Because her hands never hurt, not really. Because her mouth tasted like salvation. Because the fall didn't feel like falling—not when it ended in their arms.

The room was warm with the weight of everything you'd given them.

Your body ached in slow, deep pulses—between your thighs, behind your ribs, where your voice had cracked around the word Daddy. Your head rested on Sam's bare chest, his hand stroking lazily down your spine. Ruby was curled at your back, her fingers tracing soft circles on your thigh, her breath steady against your neck.

You felt like silk stretched thin. Blissed-out. Barely conscious. But kept.

And for once... they weren't whispering over you. They weren't sending glances across your sleeping body or silencing their voices when they thought you were too soft to hear it.

They were talking.

"Two crossroads demons last night," Ruby said idly, as if discussing the weather. "Both sloppy. Tried to run. You should've seen the mess Sam made of them."

Sam's voice came low—rough with guilt, but present.

"They were already dying when we got there. We just... finished it."

You blinked slowly against his chest, lips parted, breath shallow. You weren't sure if they knew you were awake.

"Did you use your hands again?" Ruby asked sweetly. "Or that knife you like?"

"Ruby," Sam warned, low and sharp.

But she only laughed.

"What?" She said. "She should know how much her Daddy bleeds for her."

You twitched slightly. Sam's hand paused on your spine.

"...She doesn't need to know that."

"She needs to know everything," Ruby purred. "She's ours now."

You let out a soft breath—barely a sound—but they both noticed.

Ruby smiled against your neck. "Awake, sweet thing?"

You nodded, slow and dreamy.

"Mmm..."

"Good girl," she murmured. "You did so well for us."

You blinked, lips dry. "You kill... demons?"

Sam was quiet for a long beat. "Yeah," he said softly. "We do."

"Bad ones," Ruby added, her tone light and sweet. "Ones that hurt people. We stop them."

You blinked again. Let the silence fall like dusk over your lashes.

"You're not mad?" Ruby asked, fingers brushing your hip. "That we didn't tell you sooner?"

You shook your head.

"I just... I thought you didn't want me around for that stuff."

Sam's chest rose under your cheek. "It wasn't that," he said quietly. "We just wanted to keep you soft. Safe."

"But you're stronger than we gave you credit for," Ruby added, a little too pleased. "You came apart so prettily, and you're still here. Still ours."

You hummed, curling tighter between them. Your limbs were jelly, your heart slow and warm. "You're letting me hear it now..."

"Because you've earned it," Ruby whispered, kissing the back of your neck. "And we're not hiding things from our girl anymore."

You sighed—soft, content—cheek still pressed to Sam's chest, his heartbeat loud and slow beneath your ear. Your body ached in a way that felt good now, like you'd been unraveled and then tucked into the warm space between their hearts.

Ruby shifted beside you, grinning lazily, her palm dragging slow down your bare spine. Then she leaned in, fingers brushing your chin.

"You're drooling again, sweet thing."

You blinked, dazed, and she giggled—thumb swiping a little line of spit from the corner of your lip before she kissed the spot.

"Mmm," she murmured, licking her lips with a smile. "I like you like this."

Sam exhaled hard through his nose. Ruby leaned over your hip, propped herself on one elbow, and tilted her head.

"You wanna come with us next time?" She asked, like she was offering a treat. "Wanna see what it looks like when Daddy's in the mood to rip something apart?"

Your eyes went wide.

Sam shifted beneath you. "No," he said instantly, voice low. "I don't want her seeing that."

Ruby raised a single brow. Slowly.

"Sam."

That was all she said.

He looked away, jaw tight. You could feel it under your cheek.

"I don't think I can stand leaving her alone anymore," Ruby said softly, stroking your hair. "Can you?"

Sam muttered something under his breath.

"Knew you were gonna say that."

Ruby smiled like sin.

"And you love me for it."

You blinked between them, your heart fluttering, your body still humming. And for a moment—just a moment—you saw it. Saw yourself standing behind Sam as he exorcised something screaming. Saw Ruby licking blood from her fingers like honey. Saw your hands not shaking, your voice not sweet—but sharp. Sure. Holy in a different way.

"Behold, I send you out as sheep among wolves..."

Maybe that was what you were. Maybe you were the lamb.

Or maybe—just maybe—you were the altar now.

You were theirs. They had decided that long before you realised you had no choice in the matter.

They met you at your worst—bloody, shaking, stupid with adrenaline. Your first real hunt had gone sideways, and whatever experience you thought you had meant nothing when the claws hit skin. You should've died. You were ready to. But Sam was there, and Ruby moved like smoke, and the thing was gone before you even saw it clearly.

"Poor baby," Ruby had murmured, crouching beside you while Sam checked your wounds. "Too pretty to go out like that."

You'd flinched when she touched you, and she smiled like that was her favourite part.

You never asked why they took you with them. Sam had said something about keeping an eye on you, but his mouth twitched like it wasn't the whole truth. Ruby just grinned and said you were better off not knowing. You nodded. You didn't ask again.

At first, they let you come on hunts. Small ones. Salt-and-burns, poltergeists. Sam showed you how to hold a blade properly. Ruby taught you how to lie. You were good at both.

But over time, they started leaving you behind.

"It's too dangerous," Sam said.

"She's not ready," Ruby added, her hand stroking your back through the thin cotton of your shirt.

You didn't argue. You told yourself it was kindness. That they were protecting you. That it wasn't about keeping you soft.

But then came the looks. The touches. The nights where Sam would come back covered in blood, eyes sharp with something feral, and Ruby would kiss his knuckles while you watched from across the room, trying not to shake.

They never made you watch. But they never really let you look away, either.

They talked about him sometimes.

Dean.

You only ever caught the name in whispers. "He wouldn't understand."  or,"Dean would've stopped this." or, "Dean's gone." Always followed by a pause. Always followed by Ruby looking at Sam like she was daring him to fall apart.

You didn't know who he was. You didn't ask.

Every time you got too close to the door, every time you hovered outside just long enough to hear more, one of them would call out like they felt you there.

Sam's soft: "Baby?"

Or Ruby's syrupy: "Sweet thing, come here."

You always obeyed.

Sometimes, when they thought you were asleep, Sam would sit at the edge of your bed and run his hand down your hair. Just once. Just enough to make your breath catch. Sometimes, Ruby would slip under the covers beside you and whisper nonsense until you drifted off—half-lullaby, half-possession.

You weren't sure when it stopped being strange. You only knew that when they were gone too long, your chest felt empty. And when they came back, you'd breathe again. You weren't stupid. You just didn't know how to leave.

The rain started two hours ago.

It tapped against the window in slow, steady beats, like a clock winding down—like something counting out the seconds until they came back. You sat curled on the end of the bed in your pyjamas, legs pulled up, sleeves hanging past your wrists. The television glowed faintly in the dark, but you weren't watching. You hadn't really watched anything in days.

You just waited. You always waited.

The door creaked open a little after midnight.

Sam came in first, wet to the shoulders, eyes shadowed and far away. Blood soaked one sleeve of his shirt. You didn't ask whose. Ruby followed behind him, skin shining with water, hair stuck to her cheeks like tendrils.

She smiled when she saw you. Not kind. Not cruel. Just... like she already knew.

"Still awake, baby?" Her voice was smoke and candy.

You nodded. Sam didn't say anything. He locked the door behind them, set his knife down on the table like he was placing something sacred. You watched his hands—big, veined, careful. Ruby peeled off her jacket and let it drop to the floor.

"Poor thing," she murmured, walking past him. "All alone in the dark. Bet you were scared."

You opened your mouth to protest, but she was already kneeling in front of you, wet fingers brushing your knee where your pyjama shorts had ridden up. Her touch was cold. You shivered.

"Didn't like being away from us, huh?"

Sam sat down in the chair across from the bed, his legs spread wide, elbows on his knees. His eyes never left you.

"She hates it," he said softly. "I think she's scared we won't come back."

You looked down, cheeks burning.

"I'm not—"

"It's okay," Ruby cooed. "You should be scared. There's bad things out there, sweet girl. Things that want to hurt you. But we'd never let that happen." She leaned closer, nose brushing your jaw. "You know that, right?"

You nodded. Her hand slid higher on your thigh.

"You're a good girl."

There had been... moments.

Once, in another town, Ruby had let you sleep against her in the back of the car, and you'd woken to find her fingers in your hair and Sam's eyes on your legs in the rearview.

Once, when you'd had a nightmare, Sam had pulled you into his lap, shirtless and half-asleep, and you'd felt him hard under you. He didn't move. He didn't stop either.

Once, Ruby had kissed your neck while laughing at something Sam said, and you'd gone stiff all over, heart beating like you were running from something. But she only giggled and said, "So easy to fluster. It's adorable."

You weren't sure when your body had stopped listening to you. Or when the idea of leaving had started to sound like dying.

Ruby climbed up behind you on the bed now, curled against your back, legs bracketing yours.

"You've been so patient with us," she whispered against your neck. "Hasn't she, Sam?"

He hummed low in his throat, eyes raking down your frame.

"She's always good," he murmured. "Even when she doesn't understand."

Your breath caught. Ruby kissed just behind your ear.

"Do you want to understand, baby?"

You nodded before you knew what you were agreeing to.

Ruby smiled against your skin. Sam stood slowly, crossing to the bed, and the air changed—thickened. You watched him the whole way, your lips parting when he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your cheek.

"We'd never lie to you," he said, low and warm. "But there are things you're not ready for. Things that would scare you."

"We keep you soft because we love you," Ruby added, her hand sliding up your arm. "Don't you like being soft for us?"

You swallowed hard. "I... I think so."

Sam's mouth curled at the corner.

"That's our girl."

He leaned down and pressed his lips to your forehead—so tender it made your eyes sting. His hand cupped your jaw, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth.

"You don't have to think so," he whispered. "You just have to be."

They didn't kiss you that night. They didn't touch you like that. But Ruby held you in bed, and Sam sat in the chair until morning, watching. His hands didn't stop shaking. You didn't ask why.

You dreamt of red eyes and whispered names and Sam's voice saying, "She's ours. No one touches her but us."

You woke up aching and didn't know why.

They thought you were asleep. You were supposed to be. The lights were off, your hoodie was still warm from Ruby's perfume, and you'd curled up like always—safe and small beneath too many blankets in too big a bed.

But something about the way they said "we need to talk" had twisted in your chest.

Ruby's hand had been gentle on your back as she whispered to Sam that they'd take the room next door. Just for a bit. Just to "talk business." You'd nodded sleepily, like a good girl. Like someone who didn't immediately sit up the second the door clicked shut.

Now?

Now you were barefoot on the cheap motel carpet, heart fluttering, palm pressed to the adjoining door like it might burn you.

It was cracked open. Just an inch. Just enough.

Their voices leaked through, low and urgent.

"She's not ready," Sam was saying. His voice was strained—tired, fraying at the edges. "She's barely holding on as it is. If we push too hard—"

"She's perfect, Sam." Ruby's voice was velvet and smoke. "She's soft, scared, completely dependent. She'd do anything you asked."

Silence.

Then Ruby again, slower this time. Sharper.

"You think you're protecting her by waiting. But you're just dragging it out. You're making her confused. She doesn't know what you want. And she's starting to wonder."

Something slammed—maybe his hand against the table, maybe his fist against the wall. You pressed your hand tighter to the doorframe, mouth dry.

"She's pure." Sam again. Quieter. Like it hurt to say. "She trusts us. I don't want to ruin that."

"You already have." Ruby's tone turned sweet. "And she loves you for it."

You swallowed hard. And then—just as your breath caught and you started to step back—

"She's here."

Your blood turned to ice.

"She's listening."

Ruby opened the door before you could run.

She stood framed in soft yellow light, one shoulder bare, hair tumbling over her collarbone. Her lips curved when she saw you—like a cat catching something small and trembling.

"Hi, baby."

Your voice caught. "I—I didn't mean to—"

"Of course you didn't," she purred. "Come here."

You hesitated.

Her fingers extended slowly. Her voice softened into something intimate and honey-warm.

"You don't have to listen at the door, sweet thing. If you want to know what we're talking about, you just have to ask."

You stepped forward before you meant to. Her hand curled around yours and tugged you gently into the room.

Sam was standing beside the table, hands braced on the wood like he'd been holding himself up. His eyes met yours—and he looked wrecked. Pupils blown wide. Jaw clenched. Like you'd caught him mid-sin.

"She shouldn't—" he started, but Ruby cut him off.

"She should."

She brought you closer, her body warm behind yours as she pressed you into Sam's line of sight.

"You want to protect her?" She whispered, lips ghosting your ear. "Then stop pretending she doesn't already belong to us."

Sam exhaled hard. His gaze dropped—your bare legs, the hem of your sleep shirt, the way your breathing had turned shallow.

"We're not trying to hurt you," he said hoarsely. "You know that, right?"

You nodded. You meant it. Your voice trembled anyway.

"I trust you."

Ruby made a pleased sound behind you. Her hands skimmed your waist, resting low on your hips.

"Good girl," she murmured.

You felt her smile against your neck.

"That's all we've ever wanted."

They didn't kiss you. Not yet. But Ruby turned you around in her arms, pressed your forehead to hers and said:

"You're already halfway gone, baby. Just let go."

Sam stood frozen, fists clenched at his sides. You didn't see the moment he stepped forward—but you felt it. The heat. The pull. The weight of him.

"We'll take care of you," he whispered. "You don't have to think anymore. You just have to be ours."

You closed your eyes and nodded. You didn't understand what was wrong with Sam—but something was.

His chest was rising too fast. His jaw clenched and unclenched like it was wired too tight, and his eyes... his eyes looked wrong. Black-ringed, glossy, so blown out you could barely see the colour. He looked at you like he was starving.

Like he'd been starving for a while.

Ruby was calm. Radiant. She moved with syrup-slow precision, curling one hand around your wrist and bringing it to her lips as she smiled at Sam.

"She's so good for us," she murmured. Her breath was warm against your skin. "Aren't you, baby?"

You nodded before you even knew what you were agreeing to.

Sam made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. His fists tightened where they hung at his sides.

"Ruby..." he said low, like a warning.

But she just giggled—light, pretty, dangerous.

"She wants this," she said simply. "You think I haven't seen the way she watches you? The way she trembles when you say her name?"

She turned toward you, brushing a finger along your jaw.

"Don't you want to be touched, sweet thing?"

You couldn't speak. You could only nod again, your lips parted, breath shaky. You felt like your whole body was made of heat and nothing.

Ruby kissed you before you could think.

It wasn't soft—not really. It was slow, but insistent, her mouth warm and firm against yours. Her hands gripped your waist like she owned you. Like she had every right. Her tongue slipped past your lips and you gasped into it, your knees going weak, clinging to her shirt like it might save you.

When she pulled back, you were dizzy.

"See?" She said sweetly. "So easy."

She led you backward, fingers laced in yours, and gently sat you down in the worn motel chair by the window. The fabric was cold under your bare thighs.

Sam hadn't moved. He stood like a statue at the foot of the bed, chest heaving, eyes locked on yours like he couldn't look away.

"Sit," Ruby told him, her tone turning just slightly firmer.

And he did.

She guided him down until he sat at the edge of the bed—his legs spread, boots still planted on the carpet. He looked massive, ruined, caught in the middle of something he couldn't name. His hands gripped the edge of the bed like he was afraid to touch anything.

Ruby turned back to you, lips wet, cheeks flushed.

"Watch closely, baby."

She climbed into Sam's lap in one slow, fluid motion, straddling him. His hands hovered at her sides like he was afraid to hold her. But Ruby leaned in, close to his ear, speaking words too soft for you to hear.

Then she turned her head to look at you—smiling. Like this was all a show, and you were the only audience that mattered.

"He's so worked up, poor thing," she purred. "Do you want a turn?"

Your breath caught.

"You wanna be a good girl and help us feel better?"

You nodded, your thighs clenching together on instinct.

Ruby kissed Sam then—messy and deep, her fingers in his hair. He groaned into it, hands finally finding her hips. She rocked against him once and his whole body jerked.

"Fuck," he muttered, voice shredded. "Ruby—"

She pulled back and looked at you again.

"Come here, sweet thing."

You stood on shaky legs.

"Take my place," she whispered, climbing off him slowly, deliberately, dragging her fingers down his chest. "Be good."

You moved without thinking.

Sam's eyes were wild when you stepped between his knees—dark and blown, lips parted. His hands hovered, not quite touching.

Ruby slid behind you, her arms around your waist as she guided you down—down into his lap, your knees bracketing his thighs, your breath coming short and fast.

"That's it," she whispered, lips against your ear. "Feel how hard he is for you? How much he wants you?"

You whimpered, your thighs tightening as she rocked your hips forward once—slow, grinding you down against him.

Sam's head dropped back with a groan.

"Ruby—fuck, she doesn't—"

"She wants to," Ruby said. "Don't you, baby?"

You nodded helplessly.

"Say it," Ruby coaxed. "Tell him you want to make him feel good."

Your voice was barely a breath.

"I want to make you feel good..."

Sam's hands finally touched you. Gripped your hips hard enough to bruise. His voice cracked when he said your name.

Ruby purred.

"Good girl."

You didn't mean to moan—but it slipped out anyway.

Just a soft, broken sound in the back of your throat as Ruby rocked your hips forward again, grinding you down into the thick, aching heat of Sam's cock through his jeans.

His head dropped forward, mouth brushing your collarbone. He made a noise like he was choking on the feel of you.

"Fuck, she's—Ruby, I can't—"

"You can," she whispered, wrapping her arms around you from behind. "You will. Look at her, Sammy. Look how sweet she is. So wet for you already and you haven't even touched her yet."

Your sleep shirt had ridden up to your waist, bunched just under your ribs. Sam's hands were under it now—hot and wide and shaking, gripping your hips like he was holding back an earthquake. You could feel every twitch of him beneath you, trapped behind the denim, burning through it.

You couldn't stop shaking.

"You wanna help him, don't you?" Ruby's voice was syrup in your ear. "He's been so good. He's been waiting for you. Doesn't he deserve to feel good?"

You nodded, eyes fluttering.

"Yes..."

"Say it, baby. Say I want to make Sam feel good."

Your breath hitched.

"I... I want to make Sam feel good."

Sam groaned like it hurt. His head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut, lips parted and flushed.

"Jesus Christ..."

Ruby's hands slid down your belly, fingertips just brushing the waistband of your panties. You gasped.

"That's our good girl," she whispered. "So responsive. So needy. Tell me, baby—have you ever been touched like this before?"

You whimpered. "No..."

"Mm." She kissed just behind your ear. "Even better."

Her fingers slid lower.

Sam's hands were everywhere now—your thighs, your waist, your lower back. His grip was rough, frantic, like he didn't know where to start. Like he wanted all of you at once.

"Ruby, I need—"

"I know," she said sweetly, pulling your panties to the side and slipping two fingers through the soaked heat between your thighs. "Look at her, Sam. She's dripping."

Your whole body jolted. You tried to twist away from the sensation, but Ruby only giggled and held you still.

"Shh, baby. Let us take care of you. You're doing so well."

She pulled her hand away slowly, teasing, and brought her fingers to Sam's mouth.

"Open."

He obeyed without thinking—lips parting as Ruby slid her fingers past them. He moaned low, guttural, eyes dark with something feral as he tasted you for the first time.

You made a wounded little sound, thighs trembling, head falling forward.

"Fuck—" he breathed. "She's... Ruby, she's perfect."

"I told you," she said, brushing your hair back, tucking it behind your ear like you were porcelain. "Didn't I say she'd be perfect?"

Then she leaned in again, voice like sin wrapped in silk.

"You ready for more, sweet thing?"

You couldn't speak. You just nodded. And it seemed that was all the encouragement Sam needed to shift the two of you further back onto the bed, keeping you pressed to him the entire time.

Ruby moved to sit behind you on the bed, one leg tucked under her, the other bracketing your thigh. Her hands slid up your sides, slow and soothing.

"Ride him just like that, baby," she whispered. "You're making him feel so good."

You whimpered, your hands resting on Sam's shoulders, your hips rocking in slow, helpless circles as heat curled tighter in your belly.

"You wanna keep going?" She asked, her voice dipped in honey. "Wanna make him feel even better?"

You nodded, dizzy and breathless.

"Then be a good girl and let me help you."

Her fingers slipped between your thighs again—this time not teasing. She manoeuvred you up off Sam's lap for a second, hooked her thumbs in your panties and dragged them down slowly, peeling them off and dropping them to the floor like they meant nothing.

Sam groaned beneath you, head tipping forward to rest against your chest.

"Jesus fucking Christ..."

Ruby smiled against your shoulder and whispered like a secret:

"Now ride him for real, sweet thing."

You were shaking.

Not from fear. Not exactly. But from something hot and thick curling in your belly, something too big to name. Your panties were gone, discarded on the floor like they'd never mattered. Sam was still hard beneath you, denim rough against your bare heat, and your hips were moving because Ruby told you to.

You were soaked.

You knew it. You felt it. The fabric of his jeans was sticky between your thighs and Sam was groaning, his head bowed low, sweat dampening the ends of his hair as he clutched at your waist like he might lose control.

It was too much.

"I... I don't know what to do," you whispered, voice trembling. "What do I... do?"

Ruby leaned in behind you again, her hands smoothing over your thighs, her lips brushing your ear.

"Aw, baby," she crooned. "You've really never done this before, have you?"

You swallowed hard, heart pounding.

"No..."

"Anything?" She asked softly, deceptively gentle. "Have you ever touched yourself? Let anyone else touch you?"

You flushed so hard your skin burned.

"N-no. I—I mean, not... not really..."

Ruby made a pleased little sound, like you'd just handed her the key to a locked room she'd been dying to enter.

"God, you really are perfect."

Her hands squeezed your thighs gently, her mouth warm at your jaw.

"Do you want to learn, sweet thing? Want to let us show you what feels good?"

You nodded, dazed.

"Say it."

"I... I want you to show me."

"Good girl."

Ruby kissed your shoulder, then gently—almost reverently—lifted you off of Sam's lap. He let out a breathless, broken sound, like even losing your weight made him ache. Ruby turned to him, tone shifting just enough to make it clear who was in charge here.

"Back," she said. "Now."

Sam didn't argue.

He moved further onto the bed in a slow, stiff blur, eyes glued to you like he couldn't believe this was real. His chest was rising fast, pupils blown to hell, lips parted like he might start begging. He looked like he was in pain.

You stood there, half-naked and trembling, your oversized sleep shirt hitched up high, bare legs shaking.

"Lie down, baby," Ruby said, turning her attention back to you. Her hands cupped your cheeks, her eyes glowing with soft, wicked promise. "Let us take care of you."

You obeyed.

She helped you down onto the bed, gently easing you onto your back, kissing your cheek, your jaw, your lips. You clung to her without meaning to, your fingers curling in her shirt, your legs twitching nervously.

"You're doing so good," she whispered. "You're being so brave. You'll love it, I promise. It's gonna feel so good..."

Her lips trailed lower—down your throat, between your collarbones, soft and slow. Her hands pushed your shirt up higher and higher, until your stomach was bare, your chest rising and falling like you'd run a mile.

She kissed every inch of exposed skin.

"Such soft skin... so untouched..."

Her hands slid down your thighs again—comforting, coaxing. Sam let out another choked sound, and when you looked over at him, his eyes were fixed between your legs, his hand gripping the bed like he might break it.

Ruby kissed the inside of your knee. Then your thigh. Then lower.

"Let me show you what it's supposed to feel like, sweet thing," she murmured, her breath ghosting over your heat. "You'll never want anything else after this."

You gasped when her mouth finally touched you—slow, teasing, masterful. You jolted, your hips bucking up in shock, but her hands held you down, firm but still gentle, like she'd done this before. Like she knew exactly how to unravel a girl like you.

You reached for something—anything—and Sam was there in an instant.

He crawled up beside you, his hand finding yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as you moaned helplessly beneath Ruby's mouth.

"You're okay," he whispered. "You're doing so good. God, you are so good..."

You turned your face into his neck, panting, whining, your thighs trembling as Ruby sucked softly on your clit, her tongue drawing slow, filthy circles that made your whole body clench.

"Let go, baby," she whispered between licks. "Be our good girl and come for us."

Your first orgasm broke over you like something sacred.

One second you were gasping into Sam's neck, Ruby's mouth still moving between your thighs, and the next—your back arched, a sob tore from your throat, and your whole body shuddered like you'd been struck by lightning.

It wasn't sharp—it was overwhelming. Full-body. Wringing you out like wet cloth. Sam held your hand tighter, whispering praise that barely landed, and Ruby moaned against your cunt like she felt it, like your release was something for her.

"God, baby," she breathed, and then—she slipped a finger inside you, slow and deliberate.

You jolted, a strangled cry slipping out as aftershocks tore through you. Sam's grip on your hand went white-knuckled.

Ruby moaned.

"She's so warm, Sam," she said, voice thick, dreamy. "So wet. You have no idea."

You whined, writhing, but Ruby only kissed your thigh like a reward and pulled her finger out—slick, shining.

"You're such a good girl for us," she whispered. "That was so beautiful."

She crawled back up your body, her skin hot against yours, and kissed your lips again. Deep, slow, tasting like you.

"Sam," she purred between kisses, her voice dipped in smoke. "You have to try this."

Sam didn't speak.

He just grabbed her—hard. One hand in her hair, the other on her hip, yanking her off you with a roughness that made your breath catch. He crushed his mouth to hers in a brutal kiss—desperate, consuming—and then shoved her aside like she was nothing more than a gatekeeper to his altar.

His altar being you.

He dropped between your legs without a word, spreading you open with shaking hands, and dove in like a man starved.

You screamed.

It was too much. Still trembling from your first orgasm, your body overloaded, you cried out as his tongue dragged through your folds, moaning against you like he was fucking possessed. And maybe he was. His grip on your thighs was bruising, his mouth unrelenting.

"Oh my god—S-Sam—!"

You tried to close your legs on instinct, but he just growled—growled—and shoved them wider, burying his face deeper.

"That's it," Ruby whispered, curling up beside you again. Her fingers found your hair, stroking it gently, brushing it behind your ears with all the tenderness of a mother tucking in her child. "Let him ruin you, baby. You're being so perfect."

You whimpered, face twisting into something close to pain.

"It's too much..."

"Shhh." Her hand cupped your cheek. "That's what makes it good."

Sam groaned between your thighs, low and wrecked. His tongue moved faster, deeper, insistent, like he couldn't get enough. Like he wanted to crawl inside you and stay.

"You feel that, sweet thing?" Ruby murmured, her mouth close to yours. "That's what happens when you give yourself over."

She kissed you again—languid, possessive, one hand still petting you like you were something to soothe and subdue.

"Open your mouth for me," she whispered. "You're drooling. It's cute."

You blinked, dazed, lips parting as her thumb pressed to your jaw.

"Let me feel it."

You obeyed.

She kissed you again, deeper this time, tongue slick against yours, swallowing your moans and the helpless sounds you made as Sam devoured you like he'd die if he stopped.

"That's it," she said softly. "Drool in my mouth, baby. You're doing so good."

She turned her head slightly, speaking to Sam like you weren't even there.

"She's so sensitive. Barely came once and look at her—already shaking for you."

Sam just groaned in response, too lost to speak. His hands gripped your thighs tighter, his tongue relentless, and you broke again with a sharp cry into Ruby's mouth.

You couldn't stop crying. Your legs wouldn't stop trembling, your voice had gone hoarse from moaning, and Sam was still between your thighs, tongue moving like he didn't hear you—like he didn't care.

"S-Sam—p-please—" Your fingers twisted in the sheets, your hips jerking, but his arms locked you down. "I—I c-can't—!"

Ruby was still beside you, still stroking your hair like nothing was wrong.

"Sam," she said softly. "Baby, she's crying."

He didn't stop.

He growled against you—low and guttural—and sucked harder, dragging his tongue with filthy, practiced strokes that had your spine arching, tears streaking your cheeks.

"Do you need him to stop, sweet thing?" Ruby whispered, brushing her thumb over your wet lashes.

You sobbed. Nodded.

"Y-yes—please—I c-can't take anymore—"

"Aww," she cooed, her voice like poisoned honey. "My poor baby. You're so sensitive. So perfect for him."

You gasped when Sam gripped your thighs tighter—his fingertips digging in, holding you wide open as his mouth moved faster, chasing another orgasm like he was possessed.

Ruby leaned in closer, her voice dipped in false sympathy.

"If he stops now..." she said sweetly, "...he's going to be so unsatisfied. That wouldn't be fair to him, would it?"

You blinked, dazed and wrecked, chest heaving.

"W-what...?"

"He's been waiting for you for so long, baby," she continued, stroking your cheek. "He's so hard it hurts. If you really want him to stop, you're gonna have to give him something."

You whimpered, nodding blindly.

"Anything, please—j-just make him stop—"

Ruby smiled like the devil in silk.

"Then you'll let him fuck you, sweet thing?" She kissed your temple. "You'll let him put his cock in that sweet little pussy and use you the way he needs to?"

Your lips trembled. You were crying so hard now it didn't feel real. But you nodded again. You couldn't think past the overstimulation—just needed him out from between your legs, needed something to change.

"Yes—yes, please—please—just make him stop—"

Ruby sat up, her voice turning firm.

"Sam. Stop."

He didn't move.

"Sam."

He growled—growled, full-bodied, vibrating the bed. His eyes were black, mouth wet, breath ragged.

"Don't—don't fucking tell me to stop—"

Ruby laughed.

"You'll thank me in thirty seconds, big boy."

She shoved him back by the shoulder, and this time—barely—he let her. He knelt between your legs, panting, pupils swallowing the green of his eyes.

Ruby leaned over you again, her hands spreading your legs wider.

"You're gonna take him now," she whispered. "You're gonna let him fuck you like he's been dreaming about for weeks. And you're gonna thank him for it."

You sobbed. Nodded.

Sam's hands fumbled with his jeans, dragging them down far enough to free his cock—thick, flushed, angry red with need. He didn't say a word. He just looked at you, hair in his face, jaw clenched, chest heaving.

"She said yes, Sammy," Ruby whispered. "She wants it. She wants you."

Sam moved fast.

He grabbed your hips, yanked you down the bed, and pressed the blunt head of his cock to your slick entrance. You gasped, eyes wide, every nerve ending screaming.

"You ready, sweet thing?" Ruby murmured, mouth at your ear. "You ready to be his?"

You whispered it, broken.

"Yes..."

Then Sam sank into you in one brutal thrust, and the sound you made wasn't human.

Your back arched, your breath vanished, and your body clenched around him like it didn't know how to take it. He was thick, hot, impossibly deep—and still moving, dragging out slowly, then slamming back in so hard the headboard rattled against the wall.

"Fuck—fuck— you feel unreal," he groaned, eyes squeezed shut, his voice wrecked. "So fucking tight—shit, baby, you were made for me—"

You cried out, hands grasping at the sheets, your body already fried and raw from overstimulation. Every thrust felt like lightning—too much, too deep, too good.

"You okay, baby?" Ruby murmured beside you, her voice sweet and syrupy. "You still with us?"

You nodded through the sob that escaped you, and she smiled like you'd just done something precious.

"That's my girl."

Sam fucked into you harder—hard enough to make the bed creak, his grip bruising on your hips. He looked elated, lost in it, mouth open as he moaned through gritted teeth.

"So fucking pretty when you cry," he panted. "Look at you—look what you're giving me—fuck—"

Ruby slid closer, still fully clothed, lips ghosting your temple.

"She's drooling again," she said with a laugh, her tone sing-song and amused. "You love this too much, sweet thing. Can't even keep your mouth closed."

You whimpered, your thighs shaking, and she kissed your cheek sweetly.

"That's okay," she whispered. "We love how messy you are."

Her hand slipped beneath her waistband, fingers curling—and then she took your trembling wrist and guided it down with her.

"Here," she murmured. "You wanna be good for me? Touch me."

Your fingers slipped beneath the lace, and you gasped when you felt how wet she was—soaked, hot, throbbing against your hand. She moaned low in your ear.

"That's it," she breathed. "Let me show you..."

Her hand wrapped around yours, using you, grinding down onto your fingers as Sam fucked you open in deep, brutal strokes that made your stomach tighten and your vision blur.

"Move in little circles," Ruby whispered, guiding your fingers. "Mmm—just like that, baby. You're such a fast learner."

Sam was losing it.

"She's touching you?" He groaned, looking down at you both, sweat dripping from his hairline. "Fuck, Ruby, fuck— she's so perfect—"

"She's everything," Ruby said with a soft moan, pressing your fingers harder. "She's ours now. Look at her. Look at what she's letting us do."

You choked on a sob, your hand trapped between Ruby's thighs, your body jerking with every thrust of Sam's cock. He was panting now, animalistic, his hands sliding up under your shirt to grope at your breasts, dragging his thumbs over your nipples.

"You hear that, baby?" Ruby crooned. "Hear how wet you are? How wet I am? It's all for you."

"You feel so good—so fucking good—" Sam growled, his thrusts speeding up, sloppy and deep. "I'm never gonna stop—never—never letting you go—"

Ruby grabbed your jaw, turned your face toward her, and kissed you like she owned you—tongue pushing into your mouth, swallowing your sobs and your moans, your drool and desperation.

"Open for me, sweet thing," she whispered against your lips. "Let me taste how wrecked you are."

You obeyed. You always obeyed. And as she kissed you, she didn't hold back, drool leaking into your mouth, sliding down your throat like a living thing. Warm. Sweet.

And Sam? Sam was losing it.

Sweat dripped from his chest, his arms were trembling from how hard he held himself above you, and his thrusts—fuck—they were frantic now, so deep and fast it felt like your body couldn't keep up. You couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. He was babbling between moans, his voice cracked open, wrecked.

"Can't believe this is real—fuck, you feel like heaven—so tight, so fucking warm—squeezing me, baby, you're fucking—you were made for this—"

Your legs were jelly around his hips. Your voice was gone, reduced to broken gasps and whines as his cock hit that deep spot again and again, the bed groaning under every thrust. Your hand was still between Ruby's thighs, her slick soaking your fingers, and she was rolling her hips against them slowly, deliberately.

"That's it, sweet thing," Ruby purred, her voice so gentle it made your eyes sting. "Let me use that precious little hand. You're such a good girl for us, letting us fuck you just right."

She leaned over you again, brushing your sweaty hair behind your ears, thumbing your jaw open.

"You want something in that mouth, baby?" She whispered sweetly. "You want me to spit in it again?"

You nodded—desperate, dazed, ruined.

She smiled.

"Open up."

She let it hang between her lips for just a second before letting it fall—hot, thick, landing on your tongue like sin. You moaned, tongue twitching, and she cooed.

"Swallow it like a good girl."

You did.

Sam groaned like he might fucking die.

"She's letting you spit in her mouth?" He gasped. "Jesus— fuck, I'm not gonna last—she's so—"

"She wants it, baby," Ruby crooned. "Don't you, sweet thing? You love how good you make him feel?"

You nodded, sobbing.

"Mhmm—yes—yes please—feels so good—!"

Ruby's hand slid between your legs again—while Sam was still fucking you—and her thumb found your clit with perfect, devastating pressure. You screamed, body jerking violently as she circled it with soft, expert cruelty.

"That's it," she whispered. "Let me help you break."

Sam was gone. Gone.

"Gonna fill you up, baby," he grunted, thrusts getting rougher, more erratic. "You're gonna take it, right? Let me come inside that pretty little cunt?"

"She wants it," Ruby said, matter-of-fact. "She's mine now. She'll take anything I give her. Won't you, baby?"

You cried out, stars bursting behind your eyes, your fingers slipping deeper into Ruby as her hand guided you.

"Fuck me with them," she murmured, voice like velvet-dipped knives. "Make me come while Sammy fucks you full."

You whimpered, your fingers pumping helplessly into her dripping heat as her thumb rubbed cruel circles into your clit, Sam's cock still slamming deep inside, faster, harder—

"You're mine—ours—fuck, I'm gonna—baby—take it—"

You shattered.

Your body convulsed, the scream caught in your throat, legs kicking uselessly as the orgasm ripped through you like nothing had ever existed before it. Sam groaned so loud it echoed off the walls—and then spilled inside you, hips jerking, cock twitching as he filled you up, panting, gasping, babbling your name and Ruby's in a filthy prayer.

Ruby came on your fingers a moment later, moaning low, hand never stopping on your clit as you sobbed through the comedown—wrecked, full, ruined.

"There you go," she whispered. "That's it, baby. That's my perfect little thing."

She kissed you once, slow and sweet.

"You're never leaving this bed again."

You didn't remember when you stopped crying. Somewhere between Sam's moans and Ruby's mouth, your tears had dried—leaving only heat, and ache, and the tremble in your thighs as you lay between them.

You were sore. Sticky. Wrecked in a way that felt permanent.

But you didn't want to move.

You could still feel Sam's spend leaking out of you, warm and slow. Ruby's breath was soft against your cheek, her fingers still tangled with yours like they had every right to be. Sam's hand rested over your belly—heavy, protective, possessive.

You felt claimed. Worshipped. Ruined.

You stared up at the ceiling, breath ragged, thoughts flickering like static, and it settled in your chest like truth:

You weren't yours anymore.

You didn't know when it had happened—when your body stopped being yours, when your heart shifted, when your innocence dissolved between their hands.

You just knew that it had.

And maybe that should have scared you. Maybe, once, it would have.

But lying there, between them—used, owned, kept—all you felt was peace. Because here, in this bed, you belonged to them. And you weren't sure you ever wanted to leave.