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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 10 months

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༉‧₊˚. 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 || 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

― pairing: sam winchester x plus size!reader

― summary: sam winchester was never comfortable with pda, but while on a hunt, sam is shaken with the harsh reality that he's needy, and the only person that can fix it was you.

― warnings: kissing, making out, dry humping, marking, teasing, needy sam winchester.

― wc: 1288

⋆ a/n: more old writing sigh, but i guess i can say i kind of like this one but i kinda didn't know a lot about sam's character when i wrote this because i was only in the earlier seasons then, but now since i've watched the show three times, i feel like i can say that i know his character like the back of my hand!

masterlist | AO3

You had no idea what was up with Sam that day, but he couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself. He wasn't usually a PDA type of person, opting to keep the kisses pg, meaning only cheek, temple, or forehead kisses. You had no problem with it, because if he wasn't comfortable with doing it out in the open or if he was afraid it would make him look unprofessional, you had no reason to try and push him to do anything he didn't want to.

When the affection happened in private, it just made it all the more special, both of your senses heightened and a lot more pleasurable when you two made love.

You never usually joined the brothers on hunts per Sam's request, only staying behind in the hotel room to offer some emotional support afterwards; but this time, you felt like going on an adventure. Dean was more than happy to humor you, but Sam was a bit more skeptical. He knew that you were your own person, that he truly had no say over what you did, so all the hunter asked was for you to stay close to him; easy enough, right?

At first it was a little difficult seeing how there were many places you three had to go, and it was giving Sam some anxiety, not only that, but he was feeling a type of way that he couldn't put his finger on. He thought it may have been is psychic abilities, but one touch from you and his skin lit on fire, he instantly knew that he was horny. When he got into your shared hotel bed together, his crotch pressed into you full rump, it took every bone in his body to not jump you right then and there, to keep his wondering hands placed tightly in yours.

You could sense something was off with your lovely boyfriend when you had gotten into the Impala, and instead of Sam sitting up front with his brother, he chose to sit in the back with you, one hand on your thigh. You found it a bit strange, but nonetheless welcomed the out of the blue affection. But you didn't welcome it when all of you split to go investigate different parts of an abandoned house, Sam hot on your heels.

As you were turned around, you felt Sam wrap his arms around your waist, his head buried in between your shoulder and your neck.

"Sam?" You questioned, the energy detecting device in your hand slowly lowering. He dragged his large hand down your fluffy stomach, resting it over the zipper of your pants. "Sammy?" You asked again, but this time your voice was higher pitched. He always acted this way when he was needy, but it was never out in the open like this, not when somebody could easily walk in and see your compromising decision.

"I just— I just want you so bad. . . I don't—" Sam rambled, pulling down the zipper of your fly. "You couldn't wait to do this?" You breathed, your head slightly tipping back. "Why did you think I picked the farthest room in the house?" Of course he lead you hear with an ulterior motive, why wouldn't he? He was smart, strategical, and you'd be lying if you said that you were tempted to give in.

"Sam, we can't, I'm sorry." Your hands fell over his sneaky one's, pulling your zipper back up and placing his hands back on your waist. He audibly groaned when you turned around threw your arms around his neck. His pupils were blown out, his expression was that of a kicked puppy. "Baby, you know that I want this as much as you do, I always will, but not in public." You sighed, pushing some of his hair out of his face. "I know. . . Can I— can I just kiss you?" He asked, his hands sliding lower before resting on the swell of your ass.

"Dean's gonna be real mad that we haven't got anything," You teased running your fingers through his hair, but you showed no hostility as his lips ghosted over yours. "It'll only be for a couple of minutes. . ." He mumbled, pressing his lips onto yours. It felt so great to kiss you, like your touch was slowly extinguishing the fire that had been burning in his stomach for the past two days. He couldn't help that his palms gripped your ass aggressively, rubbing you crotches together. You moaned quietly into his mouth, Sam hiking up your thigh so that he could get a better angle. His growing erection was pressed against your heated cunt, the friction driving both of you nuts.

"You said only kissing. . ." You breathed against his lips, arousal becoming more prominent in your panties. He only groaned in reply, his head tipping back so that his neck was exposed to you. You attached your lips onto is most sensitive spot located just under his ear, Sam bucking his hips against you. You were muting yourself by making marks that wouldn't easily be seen, but Sam was forced to bite his lower lip to silence himself. The worst part about doing this in not only a potentially haunted house, was that it was extremely empty, sound basically bouncing off the walls. You knew Dean would never allow Sam to live this down if he were to catch the two of you.

The tingling sensation of an orgasm was barely in your grasp, but it was enough to detach yourself from his neck and collarbones, only placing a kiss there which your lipstick left a mark.

"Sam, ____?" Dean called out. "You guys got anything?" Your eyes widened as you pushed Sam off of you, giving him a look of apology. "Uhh— no, there's nothing here!" You shouted back, licking your sleeve and wiping the makeup off his lips. "Alright well I explored all of downstairs and most of the upstairs and I got nothin', so I think we're done here." His voice was a bit closer, but now by a lot. "Okay! So are we gonna go?" You asked, straightening up Sam as he stood there with a stupid smile on his face. "Yeah! I'm goin' to be in the Impala, so you guys better hurry up!" He concluded, his voice growing fainter as he walked back down the stairs."Sam," You growled, "I'm going to kill you." You glared, now wiping off your lips for any smeared product.

"I'm sorry honey, I got a bit carried away." He apologized, but he didn't even sound remotely sorry. You just scoffed, grabbing your things with the intention of leaving. "Sure." He only laughed, following close next to you. "Don't act like you didn't like it," He teased. You only rolled your eyes, but it provoked a small grin on your lips. "Well I hope this'll sedate you until we get back home." You poked, both of you now walking down the old stairs. "Maybe, but seeing how your butt is looking in those jeans, I may be tempted to do it again." You groaned, "I'm going with Dean next time."

As you guys were about to get into the car, your eyes landed on your lipstick mark that you had placed on the side of Sam's neck. You felt your stomach fall into your ass but it was already too late, Sam had gotten into the front seat of the car while you got into the back anxiously. You watched Dean look at Sam's neck before smirking wolfishly, making eye contact with you in the rearview window.

"Looks like you guys got a lot of things done." He said, his voice full of amusement.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy

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carryonmywaywardwriters · 1 year

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Don’t Call Me Sammy - Sam x Reader (One Shot)

A/N: It’s been ages. I’m not going to use my taglist, because idk if they all still wanna be on it. But, I was feeling smutty. And daydreaming about this little one shot all day. I can’t begin to describe how good it felt to put it on the computer. As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

*Gif not mine*

Warnings: Oral sex- female receiving. No plot, really. Short sweet, and straight to the point. No real editing. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: Roughly 1,000

"Sammy!" Dean waved his meaty palm directly in front of glossy, shadow rimmed hazel eyes. Catching the taller, youngest man's attention finally. "Come on, man. What's gotten into ya, Sammy?"

"I really need you to drop the nickname, Dean." Was the answering groan. Large, calloused fingers rubbed over a too straight nose. One that somehow had been spared in the chaos of hunting. Attempting to clear his head from the memories assaulting him.

"Yeah, okay." The elder of the two huffed. Bringing his mug of jet black sludge to his pouty lips. Caffeine to counter the night of driving they'd undergone. "This 'bout that girl back east?"

"What girl?" Those hazel eyes whipped back to the menu. A smug smile tugging the corner of his dimple.

It was definitely about the girl. But Sam would drop dead before giving his brother the dirty details. Just under twenty four hours ago she'd walked in and wrecked everything he'd thought he'd known. About her. About himself. About sex. God, the sex. His fist shook against his thigh as his mind traveled back to it all.

Dean had ditched him and y/n at the bar. On the prowl for his own piece of ass. One shot of tequila was all it took for Sam to get brave. He'd grabbed her hand, tugging the quietest girl he'd ever met out into the snow chilled air.

They hadn't made it far. Sam's room was right around the block. Already, her laughter flowed easier. Her walls caving in the quiet of the night. And as suddenly as it'd started? Reality swept in. "What are we doing, Sam?"

The slight uncertainty hidden in the undertones of a tease pierced his gut, "That depends...What do you want to do?"

He watched the wheels turning in her head. It should've been an easy answer, he thought. In his mind? It was simple. He wanted the night with her. Wherever it took them. As long as he got to hear that light peal of laughter, again.

She was laid across his bed. H/C tresses haloed around her head. A sight so sweet, he could've died again, right there and been okay. He watched her chew her bottom lip until it swelled. E/c eyes taking him in.

"It doesn't matter what I want." She finally sighed. Turning to the ceiling. He hated the sudden distance between them. He'd known her mere days, and yet? It felt like he knew her. She'd never choose something for herself. Too used to pouring herself into those around her.

"Yes, it does." He couldn't stop himself if he'd tried. The tips of his fingers trailed down her shoulder to her hand. Raising goosebumps along her flesh. Watching the way her breathing shifted. He could practically hear her heart racing. Or maybe that was his. The innocent touch igniting something feral inside of him.

His brain couldn't quite decide on who'd made the first move. All he knew was the sweetest kiss he'd ever experienced turned filthy in an instant. One moment he'd held her close, comforting without words. The next? He was staring down the prettiest pussy he'd seen in his life. Drooling over the dampness that coated each fold.

Glancing up, he watched her hand tighten on the comforter. Every breath she took made him ache harder for her. Kiss stained breasts straining against the cool air. He blew the teeniest bit against the heat that radiated off the slick flesh in front of him. And then he dove deep. "Sam!" Y/n's hips writhed at his first taste. The perfect blend of sweet and salty. "Oh, fuck," Another buck against him was his reward as he flattened his tongue against her. He pulled back for just a moment, pressing his forearm down over her belly. His other hand searching for entry. "Sammy, please!" The desperate plea was broken and cracked. He'd have handed her his soul right there, if he could've. Just to hear it again. Instead, he licked back up to her clit. Sucking deep as a reward just as he pressed into the wet heat of her. Hunting for that little ridge that made her thighs shake. "There!" His quiet girl was no longer in sight. Instead, she told him just what he'd done right. Moaning out while her pussy pulled him deeper. Clenching as they both begged him for more. Her fingers wrapped through his hair. Tugging as his bruised her thighs and inner walls. "Sammy, don't stop. I'm...I'm so close. Please, Sammy."

She chanted his name. Praising the way he'd taken her over. Demanding everything from him and more with every twist of her body. He applied more pressure just how he'd learned she liked it. Both inside and out, until his name peaked from her lips in a final scream of bliss.

"Sammy..." "Sammy." "Sammy!" Dean's bellow broke him out of the memory. "Dude, gross. You're drooling."

"Shut up," Sam huffed. Shifting in his seat. Attempting to reduce some of the friction he was feeling below the belt. His dick begging to remember what had followed after. "And-"

"Stop callin' ya Sammy," Petulant as always, his older brother looked him dead in the eyes. Mischief gleaming in the green. "Is that what gave you a woody?"

"Dude," Sam's head whipped so fast, his chestnut hair whipped him in the eye. Making his brother cackle like a full blooded hyena. Trying to see who heard as his arm covered as much of the evidence as he could. "Shut up."

"I knew it." The wheezing drew more eyes their way, as the bitch face took over the younger of the two. Scowling deep did nothing to curb the mission Dean was on. "She pavloved your ass." Another dry cackle echoed as he slapped the table.

Sam sighed. Knowing that he was doomed. Dean was right. She'd ruined him. And the second he was given another chance? He'd dive right in headfirst. Desperate to hear that throaty "Sammy" leave her lips as he pumped into her. Over and over, again.

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watermelonlipstick · 2 years

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Roadside

This is so, SO overdue, but here’s my entry for @huffle-pissed‘s Vibes and Valentines challenge! My prompt was “Kiss me like that and you might regret it.” Thanks in advance for reading; I would love any advice or critiques!

Title: Roadside

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 5741

Summary: At least Sam’s there when the reader’s car breaks down.

Warnings: smut with only the thinnest premise of fluffy story, dommy Sam

He was hot—it was hot. The sun alone was nearly enough to make steam come off the blacktop itself, although you were nearly sure you’d heard that was an optical illusion most of the time. This certainly wasn’t; the huge, lean man in front of you, your car popped open behind him like a themed calendar. Sweat had slowly collected through the fabric of his t-shirt, the grey cotton first gaining a stripe down his back that had swelled to some Rorschach test by this point. You were staring when he ducked out from under the hood and had to pull yourself together to look as casual as possible when you realized he had already been talking. “It’s got a small, like, cylinder piece and a handle like a normal wrench?”

“Oh, ah, sure,” you answered, rifling through the toolbox as quickly as you could to see if anything fitting that description popped out to you. You held up your best guess.

“Perfect, yeah.” He held a palm out while keeping the other hand in the innards of the car, probably holding something in place. When you gave it to him, your fingers grazed his and you felt an electric shock blazed up your arm. Sliding the wrench in, his forearms rippled with tension under a light sheen of sweat as he cranked. After a few moments he drew back from the car, thoughtlessly dipping a hand under the hem of his t-shirt and lifting it as a makeshift handkerchief to dry his face and mouth. Seeing the taut muscles of his abdomen made you feel a little dizzy, and pulling the jersey against his body draped it almost pornographically off of him, the damp sticking in a way that left so little to the imagination he could have been dunked entirely in water. “Man, it’s hot as hell,” he said. “How long were you out here?”

“Not that long, it wasn’t so bad.” Not if this was the reward.

He nodded with an easy smile that showed he wasn’t so sure he believed you. “Well, it should be good now. Do you have a long way to go?”

“Just to the next exit, my motel’s right off the highway.”

Only a beat passed as he considered that. “I think maybe I should trail you? Until you get into town. In case this doesn’t hold out.” It startled you enough to pause before giving him a shy grin, and he seemed to mistake it for hesitation. “Or maybe to a gas station or something, not following you back to—”

“No, no, that’s—that’s fine,” you answered a little too quickly. He smiled back at you, relieved. “Thank you so much, seriously. I don’t even know your name, you must think I’m a total asshole.”

The dimples on both cheeks got even deeper as he extended his hand to you. “Sam. Don’t worry about it; I’m glad I could help.”

It was warm as you shook it, as was everything else in the goddamned desert. Firm and gentle at the same time, calluses against the skin of your palm thick without being rough—a conscientious man who worked with his hands. “Then Sam, I feel like I should tell you that you have some grease on your chin.” Both his eyebrows lifted curiously as he tried to swipe blindly at it with also-dirty hands. You reached out, stopping just before touching his arm to stop him. “You’re—wait, hold on, you’re making it worse,” you giggled, the grey-black spot spreading along his jaw. He glanced over to the car, trying to use the reflection in the window to see himself. Rubbing for a couple seconds didn’t seem to help, and he held up a finger for you to wait.

“I just need one sec and I’ll be ready. Why don’t you fire ‘er up and see if it feels okay to you?”

You nodded, leaving the drivers’ side door open for some air flow and watching him as he walked back to the huge black muscle car he’d been in when he stopped on the road behind you. Bending down to use the mirror to help himself, he tried in vain to keep rubbing the grease off before seeming to lose patience and yanking his sweat-through shirt over his head, the cotton much more effective than his fingers alone. Your mouth dropped open a touch at the truly spectacular sight of him. His size was remarkable, of course, but it had been with his shirt on too. Without it, you saw that the glimpse of stomach you’d seen wasn’t a fluke; his whole body a model of sculpted, functional muscle, the swelled shoulders of a farmer or construction worker. Wholly masculine even without the dark hair collecting into a narrow stream, pouring down his stomach and dipping underneath a non-ostentatious belt buckle. He moved economically, his limbs showing an understanding of his body in space that felt almost elegant as he cleaned himself up and walked to the trunk, trading his now-balled grey shirt for a clean white one that must’ve been stored there.

It was a shame, covering that work of art again. At the very least the freshly clothed man that walked back to you could’ve been out of any cologne ad, long lines of his legs in American jeans and boots kicking up desert dirt. You hoped you looked nonchalant by the time he got to you. “How’s it running?”

“Seems okay, yeah.” You were going for coy but weren’t quite sure you were hitting it, not wanting to seem like a nutjob in front of him—Sam, a perfect name for this ultimate boy-next-door-knight-in-shining-armor, an accessible sense of rock-solidness in the sound itself. His lips split into a brilliant smile at the news.

“Great! Okay, you ready, or do you want a minute?”

“I’m all good if you are. I honestly can’t thank you enough, you totally saved me—”

Sam waved it away. “It’s really nothing. You probably did me a favor, to be honest. My brother usually works on the car, doesn’t give me too many chances to stay sharp.” He smiled at your sheepishness. “So, I’ll just, ah, follow you?”

And follow you he did. Trying your best to look casual in the event he could see you in the cab, you hunted around in your center console for any toiletries, finding a melted Chapstick that burned your finger when you opened it and a now-mushy stick of deodorant. Whatever cherry wax hadn’t spilled off your hand got rubbed into your lips, and you did your best to inconspicuously fish the deodorant through the neck of your shirt for a few swipes. You didn’t really know what you were even doing it for—Sam was, in all likelihood, going to ensure you weren’t so far from civilization that you’d die of exposure if the car broke down again and drive off to live whatever hot guy life he had, leaving you to fantasize about him in your stupid, scratchy motel bed.

The drive gave you a second to muster up the courage to bring Sam and his gigantic Chevy to the parking lot of your motel. You reminded yourself you had nothing to lose, that if you didn’t go for it you’d likely never see this guy again anyway, your rejection an entirely private secret. By the time you saw the sign for vacancies, you’d almost convinced yourself it was a good idea, sticking your hand out the open window to wave Sam into the parking lot after you. When you saw his car park, you opened your door before you had a chance to talk yourself out of it.

He met you about halfway between the vehicles. “Is something wrong?”

Just an offer, don’t psych yourself out. “It’s really, um, hot. Out here. My AC’s barely cutting it and I’m betting yours isn’t either. I was wondering if you would want to, you know, cool off? Inside?”

His eyebrows raised as he realized what you were asking, and his mouth formed around a silent word before he started over. “Ah—yeah. Yeah, okay,” he smirked somewhat disbelievingly. “Let me just, uh, lock the car, I guess.”

You fought the urge to sell past the close and waited for him to return, feeling slightly more confident at the half-skip in his walk as he hurried to the Impala and back. The two of you walked into your room together somewhat awkwardly, standing almost close enough to touch without ever crossing the distance, reminded you were strangers in the middle of the afternoon, without cover of darkness or even a single drink to lubricate. Inside was cool as promised though, the mechanically chilled air hitting you like a soothing curtain as you walked in. Waiting any longer would make you lose your resolve, so when he closed the door behind him a few seconds later you tried to channel someone extremely sexually confident and pressed the length of yourself up into him so that your lips could meet his.

He seemed surprised by the force behind your push, pinning his body to the wall with a tiny grunt before seeming to become ravenous, his hands running through your hair desperately as he kissed you hard. Even with it the restraint in his movements was obvious as he curved down to meet you, his frame that much larger, stronger, this close to you. You felt something animal inside you flare at his hunger, and you let your nails run a little harder than you might’ve down his chest before biting his bottom lip, drawing it away from him as he groaned. Breaking away for only a beat to tug the back collar of his t-shirt over his head, you barely had enough time to relish your skin on that which you’d so admired back on the highway ahead of his flipping your positions and hitching below your thighs to pick you up, weight suspended between his arms and the wall. It made you gasp, and you felt Sam’s smirk against your lips. “Nice trick,” you breathed into the space between your mouths.

“I have better ones,” he murmured, moving along your jaw to kiss-suck at your neck. You believed him entirely, feeling set alight already. A sharp sigh squeaked out when he ground some delicious trigger spot, and your head rolled back on your neck involuntarily. “Ow, fuck—” you snapped as your skull clunked hard against the wallpaper.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Sam said, reflexively covering the spot with paradoxical sweetness as his fingers dug beautiful perfect dimples into your ass. “Too rough, my bad—”

“No, no.” It was too emphatic but you couldn’t be bothered to care. “Rough is good, I’m just clumsy.”

He smiled, easy and light, letting his forehead tilt to touch yours as he chuckled. The grin was infectious as it spread to you through a brief, remarkably chaste kiss. “And you’re sure you’re okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up,” you giggled as he tucked back into your neck, his pelvis tilting under you enough to feel the thick ache of him between your legs, through your jeans. After a minute or two, Sam’s arm behind your head folded somehow to become a seatbelt crossing your back and holding you to him as he walked you both to the bed, ease-dropping you down and ignoring the button and fly of your jeans in favor of shucking them off of you like some kind of cartoon, one incredibly hard pull taking them clean to your ankles as you tried not to shriek. By some miracle of modern elastic, your panties were jostled but still on as he covered your body with his, the heat of his body and the cold air of the room impossible contrast, and his fingers circled your neck. He didn’t apply any real pressure; his thumb rested in the hollow of your neck as he sucked on your tongue, the feeling of being completely overwhelmed almost too much to handle.

The thumb brushed back and forth as Sam hovered for a moment, his fingers long enough to curl around the collar of your shirt with the same hand. “Off,” he growled simply, the smirk on his lips devilish. You grinned as you obeyed, shimmying out of not only your shirt but everything underneath it too, laying bare beneath him. He kissed you again before sliding down, teeth dragging lightly and stopping to catch tiny nips of skin as he moved to your hips, angling his broad shoulders and fitting through your legs to lick a firm stripe over the only fabric left covering you, the movement an electric shock.

“I’m probably really—ah, sweaty,” you croaked.

Sam just smiled, his tongue running along the inside of his molars before he drew it through the joint of your hip, his enthusiasm vibrating through his lips. He slipped then to taste a different kind of salt-tang, the sensation so much smoother than the panties pressed against it. When you began to rock against his glistening face, he took two fingers and turned them to hook confidently inside you, the rhythm of his mouth not changing at all as if this was choreography he’d practiced dozens of times. “Holy shit,” you breathed, grabbing a handful of Sam’s hair out of his eyes as he looked up at you. It was impossible not to squirm, and his other arm wrapped around your thigh like an iron bar, holding you in place while he worked magic before your body spasmed and clenched around him. He rode it out as you rode his jaw, leaving you a twitchy, heaving mess on the motel sheets.

You caught your breath together, his head resting on your leg. Feeling slightly less jellied, you scooched back on the mattress until you could sit up, watching Sam slink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Swinging yourself around to get over to him, you slid into his mouth deep-dirty, tasting yourself on his lips and sinking as he clutched at your body, pulling you down onto his lap. The still-tender wet ground against his denim and God, could he really be that big zipped through your head while he pawed at your back. You managed to get hold of the button of his jeans, undoing them as he realized what you were doing and leaned away to help you, his stomach flattening as he flicked them open and you rolled off of him. He rose in his kneel to get at the zipper until you grabbed his hands, stopping him to do it yourself. He got to his feet, about to move to the bed again, but you stayed down, freeing the length of him from the jeans and worn plaid boxers underneath.

Fat drops of precum gathered on the tip of his cock tasted nearly sweet as they passed your lips, and Sam’s head rolled back. “Fuck, just like that,” he groaned as you took him into your mouth with considerable effort. You tucked an errant piece of hair behind your ear and he reached down, holding the rest back as you bobbed. He was a playground, opportunity to try all the things you’d ever been curious about with the feedback of unconscious pulsing in his hips and the gorgeous, filthy things coming out of his mouth. The end goal had almost slipped your mind completely when the hand in your hair pulled you all the way off of him, Sam looking down at you on your knees. Motel quilt on your back reminded you how close you still were to the foot board and he bent down to kiss you, curling your head back onto the fabric to scoop under your thighs again. You tried to help scramble back to the mattress but weren’t fast enough as he picked you up and put you onto the bed, sucking down your neck as you giggled through the springs bouncing. “Wanted to bend you over the hood of your car out there, you looked so fucking good,” he growled along your throat.

“Oh yeah?” you breathed, the chills down your spine and the feeling of his body on yours more than enough to distract you from how lame that must’ve sounded.

Sam didn’t seem to care, grazing his teeth along your pulse. “Couldn’t stop thinking about what you looked like under those clothes—” he paused enough for you to feel the grin against you as he sucked an especially sweet spot and your breath hitched. It might as well have been one of those hypnosis recordings you’d tried a couple times to fall asleep, his low murmuring and movements slowly tugging you under a cloud of pheromone coated endorphins. “Tasting you—seeing your lips around my cock—‘s even better than I thought.”

You whimpered like a virgin until Sam’s mouth finally caught yours. He rocked crystal-hard against your thigh and a small, hungry note came from the back of his throat when you bit his lip, forcing him to break.

“Do you have…?” he asked, so close to your face you would’ve been able to count his eyelashes.

You realized the question required a response at the same time you understood what he was asking. “Ye—yeah, of course. Sorry.” Fishing your arm out from the tangle of your bodies toward the nightstand, you were nowhere close to getting to the little bag of toiletries lying there even as you twisted your torso.

“Bag?” Sam asked, his arm easily long enough to cover the distance when you nodded. His skin moved across your nipples as he reached, on its own something you would’ve been able to daydream about for months to come. Tanned fingers flicked purposefully through a handful of tampons and tiny bottles before finding a foil package he ripped open with his teeth, the hand disappearing. You felt him nudge against you before he seemed to change his mind, bringing two fingers to into his mouth while the other wound in hair at the back of your neck.

Sam’s forehead pressed against yours. “Before I get distracted.” The fingers circled before dipping inside at the same time his tongue entered your mouth. You felt remarkably like he was a predator playing with his food without caring one bit. If it had been more elegant, less primal, it could’ve been watching an expert piano player. Within a couple minutes you were clutching for purchase along his chest, his arms, anything to try to hold yourself together as you fell apart. “Look at me,” he said, the hold on your hair tightening a fraction. His eyes were lit from within when you met them, the need in them nearly frenzied as you came spasming around his fingers. “Good girl, just like that.” It was virtually guaranteed your nails would leave marks digging into him. “God, you’re so fucking hot,” he breathed as the heaving of your chest started to even out.

He brushed his cock back and forth against you, pausing. “Yeah?” he asked, something gentle there even with the dark hunger in his eyes. You couldn’t remember ever wanting anything more than you did in that moment, squirming toward him as though you physically couldn’t help it. Nodding made him grin, sly and cocky and excited, and he pushed into you.

It was slow, at first—his quiet, confident self-awareness that you’d need it somehow not coming off like hubris. When you hooked your leg around his hips he started rocking into you, picking up the pace as you threw your head back. Soon he was pulsing fast, forcing you to brace yourself on the headboard behind you with outstretched arms. He curved forward, his teeth catching your neck to pull a groan from it. You couldn’t tell how much time had passed, endorphins suspending you in a frozen limbo you could’ve stayed in forever, when he scooped under your back and picked you up, lifting you as he laid down.

His deft movements rearranged you like a doll, legs on either side of his waist. You nearly fell forward in surprise but the thick pillar of him kept you supported like a puppet, that much deeper than he’d already been with the added gravity of your body. Each pump skewered into you in the most delicious way; for a brief, flitting second of legible thought you felt you understood how people could feel so overcome they spoke in tongues. Taking each of your hips in the broad span of his hands, Sam began to ram up into you hard and fast, some tilt hitting you just right to fall apart again, your head falling back like you were being raptured. He slowed as you came down, wrapping his arms around you to pull in for a long, filthy kiss. “I could watch you all goddamn day,” he murmured against your skin.

Again he moved you as you giggled giddily through the compliment, sliding you back on the bed and standing up. He came around the corner of the mattress and seemed to be making good on his promise, his eyes sliding over your body where you laid. Something about it, being seen like that by this glistening Tarzan, with his shining hair and perfect soft-rough balance, made you feel stripped past your skin to your bones, to the very core of yourself. An insane way to feel for a man you’d just met that day, but there you were.

For what it was worth, the smile Sam gave you in that moment was equally as insane—you were sure then you weren’t imagining the affection there, that there was something just as sparkling in his hazel eyes as there was in the glint of his teeth. He stroked himself for a few seconds, the mere sight of your body a private piece of pornography, before grabbing behind your knees and yanking you down the mattress to where he stood, the backs of your thighs thudding against his and locking in place with his palms. The way he’d pulled you pressed his cock between your legs, as much a taunt as anything, the heat of it feeling like it throbbed against you. He rocked there, taunting with the grind before you drew back and slipped him inside you yourself. Knowing you wanted it that much made Sam bite his lip to keep from smiling too widely. With only a beat or two of buildup, he slammed into you—hands an iron grip on your thighs, pulling you in as much as he thrust forward, the force of it seeming like he could drill you right through the floor and you’d beg him to keep going.

He took a thumb into his mouth and reached down without missing a single stroke, circling your clit. “You going to cum for me again?” he nearly murmured, low and steady.

You would’ve done anything then, but more importantly, it seemed like your body had been crafted as a puzzle for him to take apart and would’ve obeyed without your input. He pounded harder, riding you through the inevitable before he came himself, the muscles in his arms and abdomen clenching while his breath got rough.

The aftershocks had him bracing his weight on stretched, sculpted arms as his breathing evened out before he discreetly shucked the condom into a wastebin and laid down in one relatively fluid motion. If you hadn’t been so thoroughly spent, it might’ve even seemed a little too suave, a little too practiced in its coordination. He sidled up to you, spreading his wingspan in low-pressure invitation for you to lie along his side. It felt—gentlemanly, somehow; the pretense of sex already foregone, the ruse of manners drawn away to reveal a relaxed sincerity you weren’t expecting. It made the inappropriately profound crush you were developing on him worse, the hooks sunk in like ice picks.

Sliding underneath the arm and resting your head on his chest felt treacherous, but it would’ve been more awkward not to. You half expected him to tip forward and kiss your hair, but the way his fingertips brushed back and forth on your bicep, holding you to him, was just as nice. The two of you laid for a few moments, letting your bodies soak in and the hormones float lazily through your bloodstreams.

“Thanks for inviting me in,” he said after a few content minutes. His voice sounded like caramel, lilting enough you could hear the smile behind your head. Propping yourself up to your elbows, you grinned back at him.

“Thanks for coming in,” you answered. He bit his lip, tracing the lines of your face with his eyes for a moment before looking up at the ceiling, letting his smile deepen enough to pull the dimples into his cheeks.

Bashful silence reminiscent of some middle school dance hung in the air just long enough to start to feel awkward, and Sam cleared his throat. “Do you, maybe, ah, wanna get something to eat?” he asked, only a note off of breezy.

The smile wiggled around on your face, threatening to beam. “Sure,” you finally answered. “I could eat.”

He grinned back at you. “Cool. Let me just call my brother, I was supposed to be on my way to see him before you, ah, invited me over.”

Sam did, politely covering himself with the top sheet as he sat up and grabbed his phone from the pocket of his discarded jeans. He poured into them fluidly like a glass of water filling, tucking the phone under his chin while he threw the button together and stood up. You watched him cross to the bathroom, likely looking for some privacy and throwing you a silent, unnecessary ‘sorry!’ before snatching his shirt off the ground and closing the door behind him. Watching the slink of his spine, the jeans low-slung on his hips, even his bare feet, you were nearly thankful for the physical barrier forcing you to stop staring. You stood on then-coltish legs and tried to pull yourself together as quickly as possible, trying in vain to fix your hair in a tiny compact mirror when Sam came out, throwing his t-shirt on. “Ready to go?”

“If you are.”

Walking together across the street was a pleasant kind of silence. Without having to fill the space with words, it the intimacy felt more lived in between the two of you than you might’ve believed if you weren’t experiencing it.

You probably could’ve guessed he’d open the door for you, but it didn’t make it any less gentlemanly when he did. The heat of his hand was palpable hovering over your lower back but he didn’t outright guide you which was somehow more attractive, although it’s possible anything he did would’ve been attractive at that moment. After ordering, you leaned onto the table to rest your chin in your palms.

“So, Sam. You always so chivalrous?”

“Chivalrous?” he asked, the tip of his tongue flicking out to grab his straw.

“I came three times before you were even inside me.”

Sam choked on a sip of Coke, his eyebrows raising in shock as he coughed once through it, smirking as he swallowed. “I didn’t know that was chivalrous.”

You grinned, cheekily pleased you’d managed to surprise him and moving your cup out of the way as you saw the waitress walking over. “What would you call it, then?”

He kept smiling, dimples staying deep as he said a small ‘thank you’ to the waitress and graciously denied a need for anything else when she asked. When his eyes met yours again, they were coy. “Guess I hadn’t thought about it.”

Picking up a fry and blowing on it, you rolled your eyes. “Sounds like a yes to me. Is that some pickup artist always-leave-them-wanting-more thing?” It was Sam’s turn to roll his, accepting the teasing as flirtatious as you’d hoped he would. “Or are you some mythical being luring women in on the side of the road?”

Bedroom eyes looked back at you atop his smile. “If I remember, it was you on the side of the road.”

“Don’t change the subject,” you said, hoping the heat of flattered embarrassment wasn’t obvious on your face.

After a few beats he realized you were serious and stretched back in the booth, running a hand over the back of his hair. “I don’t know, it’s less—distracting, maybe? If I don’t, ah, you know, take care of it, I have a hard time not thinking about it.”

“Take care of it? How romantic,” you laughed.

“Whatever, you know what I mean. Easier to have fun if everyone is.” He rolled his eyes but seemed to be a good sport about the ribbing, grabbing a fry and biting it in half. “Plus it’s hot.”

The sly smile he gave made you giggle like a schoolgirl, and he grabbed a few more fries. He really was handsome—gorgeous, even—with high cheekbones and those dimples, his neck the wide-strong of an athlete. You only knew you’d been staring when one of his eyebrows twisted up, silent curiosity of whether something was wrong.

“So, um, what do you do?” you tried to cover, intently focusing your gaze on picking the next fry.

Sam swallowed and took a sip of his drink. “I work with my brother.”

“Same brother you called? Hope I didn’t mess with your job.”

“No, I—” he grinned, slightly embarrassed at misspeaking. “I mean yeah, same brother. But you didn’t mess with anything. And even if you had, I ah…I wouldn’t have cared.”

That made you flush and you struggled to think of something clever to say before deciding you couldn’t come up with anything, wishing you could’ve held onto the spunky, raunchy girl you’d been able to put on before you got lost traveling his face. “What do you guys do? Are you from around here?” Stupid, don’t be clingy.

He swallowed and you worried maybe you had mis-stepped. “Not from around here. We’re, uh, exterminators? Sort of exterminator consultants.”

“Sexy,” you smirked, enjoying the reappearance of his dimples.

“Family business, I guess. It’s what my dad did.” He pivoted abruptly, clear but sweet Not Interested In Discussing in his tone. “My guess is you’re not from around here.”

“Oh really? What gave it away?”

His eyebrows crooked incredulously. “The motel?”

You hoped the ‘fuck, right’ didn’t show on your face too clearly, winking as if it was always a joke rather than a chunk of your brain shutting down for how badly you wanted this plate of fries to last forever, to split a milkshake with two straws like teenagers after a sock hop. “Maybe you should be a detective, Mr. Exterminator.”

He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You’re losing him. “You must get along with your brother pretty well to work together.”

“Yeah, we—yeah, we really do. We’re a good team, I guess. Makes it a lot easier to be on the road together all the time.”

His fond smile was reassuring both in the way it seemed like you still had his attention and in the sweetness his being close to his brother showed. “How long have you guys been on the road?”

“A while. Where are you from? Close to here?”

You took a sip of your drink to stall. “No, not close really. I’m just passing through.”

He considered that with a downward turn of his lips. “To where?”

A deep breath blew out of your nose, continued inability to answer this question one of the recurring frustrations in your life. Something about Sam felt right, though—open, like he would understand—and if he didn’t get it, you probably wouldn’t ever see him again anyway. No harm, no foul. “To nowhere, really. You know, ‘finding myself’ or whatever,” you said, rolling your eyes to show you understood how it sounded and that you thought it was lame too even if secretly, sincerely, it didn’t. ‘Finding yourself’ may have been less accurate than ‘running’, but if you were worried about scaring this guy off by wondering what he did for work, you certainly weren’t going to tell him your whole life story right off the bat.

Sam looked at the table, slowly rotating his glass with his fingers. “Well if nowhere is ever close by, it would be cool to, ah, see you. Again.” He finally glanced back up when he was done speaking, as though he could handle the aftermath but not the implied question itself.

The heart thumping in your chest seemed not to remember this guy had already been inside you, ohmygodhelikesme bounding through your bloodstream and drawing a smile across your face like a crisp clean sheet. “I think that could be arranged.”

You could’ve written a bubblegum pop ballad for those dimples. Sam’s tongue moved along the underside of his molars as he grinned across the table.

He paid the check without looking at it, leaving a fold of bills on the table and walking you back across the street to the motel room door like he was dropping you off at home after a date on a school night. Standing at the threshold, you struggled with the feeling that you didn’t want him to leave, feeling ridiculously like you were saying goodbye to someone you really knew, not this random hot guy who’d fixed your car and blown your back out.

“So. See you later?” Sam asked, ruffling the hair at the back of his neck nervously.

You swallowed and nodded before pressing to your tiptoes and kissing him deeply, slipping your tongue into his mouth and biting his lower lip, dragging it a bit as you stood back. “See you later.”

Sam smiled with his eyes closed. “Kiss me like that and you might regret it,” he murmured, his hand lingering on your lower back for a beat before dropping.

“Somehow I doubt that,” you grinned into the heat of him.

It would’ve been enough, the memory of the day and the way he took a few steps backward like he couldn’t bear taking his eyes off you even a beat too early. But about fifteen minutes after you got back into your room, your phone went off:

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itsmkjones · 8 months

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Imagine: Sam forcing you to go to bed

Okay. So you'd gotten a little obsessive. And, sure, that tunnel vision drive had robbed you of a real night sleep for three days straight, resulting in unplanned naps at an hour intervals at most, adding up to two whole hours. But was it really fair that your body demanded sleep when Sam and Dean habitually did the same thing? And that's how you got to day four, hallucinating every time you looked at something too bright or too dark.

"Y/n…?" Sam called out softly after coming into the room to see you staring blankly at your hand. "You alright?"

"Huh?" You could barely pay attention to him, much less summon the mental stamina to craft a proper response.

Sam hesitated. "I asked if you were alright…"

"Uh huh."

Sam glanced back, wondering if he should call for Dean, then decided to approach you first instead. "What's going on?"

"This spot on my wrist."

"Spot?" Sam blinked in surprise when you clumsily shoved your hand in his face. He gently took it wrist. "I see it. What about it?"

"It's a spider."

Sam's brows knitted. "What?"

"All spots are spiders."

"Uh…"

"Spider. Spider. Spider." You repeated, poking the visible moles on his skin. "It goes away when you touch it. Then reappears!"

"Are you high or something?"

"Let me take off your shirt." You didn't wait for permission, sliding your hands up his hard abs. You would have enjoyed it more if your brain didn't feel encased in cotton, but as a solid to your future self, you made sure to indulge in the experience.

"Why the hell are you taking off my shirt?" Sam's voice cracked as he startled back, hands wavering in the air, unsure of what to do.

"You have the cutest mole right… here." You caressed the curve of his neck.

Sam's breath hitched and his throat worked as he struggled to reply. "You didn't need to take my shirt off to see it- Y/n!"

You opportunistically slipped under his shirt, kissing the spot. "God, I've always wanted to do that."

"Have you been drinking?" Sam jumped back when your hand dipped under his jeans. "Jesus, Y/n! What the hell?"

You blinked at him, mind blanking.

"Y/n?" Sam stepped forward cautiously when you didn't respond. "When was the last time you slept?"

"Yesterday maybe?" You felt yourself swaying, but it didn't feel dangerous even when Sam jerked forward to keep you upright.

"For how long?"

"I don't know math." You scowled indignantly. "How dare you, Winchester? -Like twenty minutes or something."

Sam sighed. "How long has it been since the last time you really slept?"

"Um…" You closed your eyes to think and the swaying got worse. "Anyways. Take off your pants."

"What? No." Sam frowned. "Try to concentrate for a second."

"How can I supposed to do that?" You whined shamelessly. "Real Y/n wants to see the goods!"

Sam flushed and it took clearing his throat twice to find his voice. "Real Y/n?"

You nodded. "Awake Y/n. Not sleepy Y/n." You grabbed his waistband. "There's a pot going on amongst hunters about how hung you are. I'll keep it a secret if you do, but shouldn't I know since we're friends? You can't keep secrets from your friends."

"Okay. Bedtime for you." Sam threw you over his shoulder when your fingers started to graze downward.

"I'm not sleepy." You pouted. "My brain is too awake."

"I'll give you warm milk or something. Just get into the bed and stop touching me." Sam's voice was hard.

You stopped sliding your hands over the lines of his back muscles sulkily. "You're so bossy. Isn't it your fault that you're so damn fine? Take some responsibility! Coming out of the shower with nothing, but a towel on…"

"I didn't know you were there!"

"That doesn't make me not want to lick every damn drop of water off of you." You suddenly became cheerful. "Stay hydrated everyone."

"Please stop talking." Sam swallowed hard.

"I'll show you yours, if you show me mine." You offered.

"That's not-" Sam broke off with a sigh, then pushed open your bedroom door and set you down. "Get some sleep." He sighed again when you stared at him in blank confusion. "Sleep, Y/n. Please?"

"I forgot how the bed works."

"You forgot…" Sam covered his eyes with his hands, scrubbing his face hard. "Go lay down."

You walked backwards until your legs hit the bed, then toppled inelegantly on the mattress. Sam's face fell. Begrudgingly, he scooped you up and laid you further back on the blankets. He rolled you up tightly in an impromptu swaddle before you could do anything else.

"I'm a burrito. Eat me."

"Go to sleep, Y/n."

"But you and Dean stay up all the time." Your face crumpled with a wave of sorrow.

Sam softened. "You aren't us."

"But you won't want me anymore."

Sam's lips thinned with an empathetic smile. "We can talk about this later."

"You've got a cute mole by your nose too."

Sam turned off the light, but didn't leave. A moment later, you felt him sit next to you. "I never had anyone try to help me fall asleep, so I'm not really sure how to help you, but… I saw this in a movie once. A mom putting down her kid…"

You relaxed instantly as his fingers brushed back your hair in long, gentle strokes. Sam smiled at your satisfied hums.

"Good night, Y/n." Sam said softly when your breathing slowed.

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sams-sass · 5 months

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A Blacksmiths hands

So....this was just something I conjured in my mind one day, and then my imagination ran a little wild. This is completely based on this AI pic that the lovely @winchest09 made for my hormones.

I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: implied sex. Romance. SWOON

______________________________

Sam stood against the table, his hands gripping the sides for two reasons. One was to hold him up steady, and the other was to keep himself from going mad as he stared at you. His skin begged for yours. He clenched harder into the wood as you slowly raised your shaking hands to remove your coat. You looked down, breaking eye contact for a moment. A strand of your hair dipped into your eyes, and it took everything in him not to reach out and feel the strand move within the pads of his fingers. He waited in false patience for you to move. When your feet finally started to bring you his way, Sam thought he might lose all control. This was wrong. He knew that. You were a woman of status and wealth. Your family name held power and control over people. You came from a different life—a life of privilege and extravagance. A life of carefree savor. His life was one of pain and sorrow. Of poverty and filth. His skin wore the marks of his labor, his soul the marks of his existence. You were a lady, and he was a blacksmith. There was no world in which your paths should cross. And yet here you stood in his shop, surrounded by metal and heat. You stopped walking and tilted your face to his, looking at him, waiting for him.

The fire's amber glow surrounded you in a soft light that dimmed and hushed his logical mind, allowing instinct to rage through his body like the waves of a tempestuous sea. Using the small amount of self-control he had left, he released the table from his grasp. Raising his hands to your face, he gently removed the pins holding your hair in place. Your lips parted, and he could hear your breath quicken in your chest. Once he pulled the last pin, he moved his fingers over your cheekbones before letting them slip into your hair. You swallowed thickly and closed your eyes, leaning your body against his. Sam felt your touch move over his outer thighs. He took a long and ragged breath before tilting his head to press his forehead against yours.

“I do not believe you could imagine how badly I want this. How badly I have longed for you.” He breathed into the space between your bodies.

You let out a sound between a moan and a giggle, your breath tickling his lips.

“How many have you had before me?” You whispered.

There was a pause. A restless moment when the air grew thick and the silence raised in volume.

“None.” He finally answered.

“And after tonight?” Your hands ran up his chest, fiddling with the tie on his tunic.

Sam circled the tip of your nose with his before leaning back to look you in the eye. His hands still held your head, his thumbs running through your hairline.

“Only you. Until the end of my days.” He vowed.

Sam leaned his head down for a moment. You thought he would kiss you, your breath hitched in your throat, waiting for his lips. He surprised you by dropping to his knees in front of you. His large and strong arms wrapped around your waist as his mouth began to move over your clothed torso. You could feel the wet heat from his mouth through the thin fabric of your nightgown. Running your fingers through his silky chestnut locks, your head tilted back as a sensation bloomed in your core. Sam rose higher on his knees, bringing his face to your chest. You fisted the back of his hair and forced him to look up at you. The moisture on his pink and puffy lips glistened in the fire’s light. His eyes tilted up slowly. They were soft yet wild as if he was about to worship and devour you all at once.

“It is as though no matter how hard I try, I could never be close enough to you,” Sam whispered.

Lowering his mouth, his lips traced your collarbone.

“You have entranced me.” His kiss became hungrier against your chest, nipping and sucking at your flesh.

His finger dipped past the seam of your dress to tickle your breast. Your breathing became more erratic.

“I crave you. It is your name, I whisper into the heavens. It is your face that I picture in my lowest moments. And it is your body that I surrender to in the darkest hours of the night. I submit to you, my lady. My darling. My love.” His tongue licked a small stripe between your breasts before his teeth bit into the tie of your dress, pulling it down slow yet steady.

If his arms had not been wrapped so tightly around you, you believe you would have sunk right there into the dirt floor. You desperately clawed at his shirt, tearing it from his body to feel the scarred and rippling skin of his shoulders. Sam practically ripped your nightgown in half, his large hands covering the swell of your breast within them. Suddenly, he stood. Grabbing you with him, holding you close. Your bare chests touched, and the hair on his chest tickled you softly. Sam placed you on the table, holding you up with his forearm.

He pulled away slightly. You bit your lip to hold back your gasp of frustration. You watched his throat work as he held himself back. His breath was heavy and loud.

“Are you certain?” He asked.

“Sam…” You trailed off, reaching for him again.

“Y/N. If I give myself to this. If I let my lips finally grace yours, I will have crossed a point of no return. I will never stop loving you until the hands of time cease to exist. Do you understand me? If you allow me to taste the sweetness of your mouth, I will be yours for the rest of my days.”

You let yourself look him over. Tall and muscular. Beautiful and warm. His hungry eyes had softened once again. You looked at every scar that you could see. All the marks that told his story were written across the tapestry of a man who stood before you. He was letting you choose, giving you control over the situation, knowing that your title, house, and reputation would be at risk. Providing you the comfort of hearing that he would stop if asked. The right side of your mouth pulled up in a smirk.

“I have never been more certain of anything in my li-” You couldnt finish your sentence before his starved lips were on yours.

He kissed you how the sun kissed the earth each morning, warming it from its radiating touch. As the land waits to be illuminated by the rays that break through clouds and trees, your need grew with anticipation. And like the heated rise of daybreak, you felt yourself melting into him, awakening with every brush of his skin. Just as the birds sing for the light to dance across their feathers, you flew high into the beam of white-hot ablaze that grew from your core and stretched into your entire being.

Sam’s fingers lifted the hem of your dress, pulling away the fabric meant to keep you hidden and pure. The worn and strong hands of his tireless labor finally touch the most reserved parts of you. His callouses left goosebumps in their wake as he felt your inner thigh slowly reaching where you needed him most. He momentarily broke the kiss to remove your nightgown before reattaching his lips to yours. His long fingers dug into the skin of your hips, his thumb dangerously caressing the space just below your belly button. He fisted your thigh and yanked you forward until you were teetering on the edge of the table. His hips rutted into yours, and you finally felt him. Your eyes rolled back in your head, and you could hear the sharp inhale into his lungs. His hands dug back into your hair, forcefully pulling your head back as he lay kisses and soft bites on your neck and chest. He pushed you slightly so your back was against the table. Standing over you, he slowly lowered his body to yours, caging you against him with his powerful arms. His lips teased yours, hovering just above reach before he slid down. His pointed nose dragged a line down your entire torso, his tongue delicately tasting your skin, stopping at the line of your hips.

“I do not believe there is a greater pleasure for me than yours.” He whispered, his hot breath tickling the unexplored flesh between your legs.

Pushing yourself off the table, you braced your weight with one hand while the other hooked under his chin. You watched his eyes move up your body before his head tilted to look at you. Guiding him up with one finger under his jaw, his eyes leveled with yours again.

“Prove it.” Your voice was breathy.

The last sound you remember before Sam’s finger slipped through your folds was the carnal growl that rumbled his chest.

#spn #sam winchester #supernatural #spn fandom #supernatural fanfiction #sam girl #sammy #sam fantasy #sam fanfiction

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stellatekintsugi · 10 days

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Sam Fender

#sam fic #sam fanfiction #sam fanart #sam fender #sam fender lyrics #sam fender header #sam fender x reader #sam fender imagines #sam fender au #sam fender cute #sam fender concert #sam fender daily #sam fender fanfic #sam fender gif #sam fender icon #sam fender social media

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dingo-ate-my-hot-lettuce-crazy · 1 year

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IVE HAD FULL ON CONVER- NO. IM ESSENTIALLY Y/N IN THIS AI CONVO WITH DEAN ITS BLOWING MY MIND. TALK TO DEAN ON THE BETA CHARACTER AI, ITS A WHOLE THING YOU HAVE TO. guys ive engrained myself into a dean x reader fanfiction with a fucking robot.

SIDE NOTE- on a separate dean text thingy he straight up came out as bisexual and im losing my marbles. I made him call cas and tell him how he feels and and they both confessed, it was therapeutic

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breathing-through-the-pages · 8 months

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___________________________________

Summary: Dean, Sam & Cas's long-established dynamics were going to change as they came across a young, brave but somewhat socially awkward hunter, Emma.

▁ ▂ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ SPN █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▂ ▁

In the pulsating underground world of supernatural hunters, the unknown and paranormal intertwine in a ballet of suspense and horror; a world where whispers of mythical creatures are real, where angels and demons tread the same ground as humankind. The seasoned warriors, Dean and Sam Winchester, alongside the celestial being, Castiel, or 'Cas' as they fondly called him, were stalwarts in this crazy, impossible world. But their long-established dynamics were going to change as they came across a young, brave but somewhat socially awkward hunter.

It was another typical day in their bizarre world for the notorious hunters, Dean, Sam, and Cas. They had seen a fair share of shapeshifters, vampires, ghosts, and all other nasty things that come crawling in the night and tucked away neatly in our childhood nightmares.

A new case was their focus, a series of gruesome murders in a small town on the outskirts of Georgia. The trio arrived at the crime scene, piling out of the renowned Impala. Quickly delving into their fake federal agent personas, they started debriefing the local sheriff, scrutinizing each detail for any tell-tale signs of supernatural involvement. But before they could finish, a hint of gunfire echoed through the calm Georgia air.

From the thick woods on the edge of town, a young woman emerged. She was slight but carried herself with an impressive air of toughness. Her hair was disheveled, her clothes stained with dirt and blood. In one hand, she held a smoking gun; with the other, she dragged a Lycanthrope. With a small but weighted introduction, they discovered the woman’s name: Emma.

This wasn't your typical damsel-in-distress scenario; this was Emma, a young and highly skilled hunter. Emma was beautiful, tough, and quicker than most men twice her size, but also oddly socially awkward. Her bravery was not borne from recklessness, but rather from a deep conviction for the brotherhood of hunters.

Dean watched from a distance as Sam and Cas got acquainted with Emma. Not being able to stop himself, Dean, with his usual bravado hiding concern, remarked, “You hunt solo, kid? It's dangerous out there.”

She shrugged her shoulders dismissively, her eyes showing a hint of determination that the Winchesters knew all too well.

She had a way about her, recklessly brave, but also gentle in her toughness. She was a skilled hunter, yes, but she was also awkward in social situations, often blushing deeply or stuttering in conversations. She was disarming in her vulnerability, and the trio couldn't help but feel protective of her.

Days turned into weeks, and Emma became an integral part of their little band of hunters. But for all her skills, she had a fault. Her bravery often morphed into self-sacrifice. For the days that followed, Emma would tag along, showing the boys her exceptional hunting skills, and her useless social skills. If she wasn't stumbling over words, she was obliviously missing sarcasm.

Dean, the older and more protective of the Winchester siblings, saw a fiery spark in her. Her awkwardly adorable inability to converse in social settings oddly reminded him of his younger self — a lone wolf with the world on his shoulders.

On the other hand, Sam, the more academic-minded and understanding of the two, saw stark similarities between Emma and their late friend, Charlie, another gifted yet socially inept hunter who had also captured their hearts. And Cas, an angel exiled on earth, held a gentle affinity for the young hunter. Her struggle with societal norms mirrored much of his own. These parallelisms drew them to Emma in a fraternal sense.

One night, things had turned disastrous. While tracking down a nest of vengeful spirits, Emma had jumped in front of a possessed car, saving Sam at the very last moment. When the dust settled, they discovered her sprawled on the ground, unconscious and severely injured.

The sight of Emma's unmoving form ignited a surge of protective instinct in each of them. The tender, awkward girl had saved them more times than they could count, and now they were unsure whether they would lose her.

Over the next few days, the trio stayed by her side, nursing her back to health. They took turns staying awake at night, ensuring that nothing could harm her while she was vulnerable. Their dynamic had subtly shifted—no longer was Emma just their partner, but they had unconsciously adopted big brother roles for the young hunter.

As Emma pieced back together, she was met with an unexpected surge of protection from the guys. Dean grew more watchful, often flinching at her every wince. Sam was overbearing in his care, constantly checking her wounds, and fussing around for her betterment. Cas, meanwhile, was an ever-present silent guardian, always nearby.

And so, amongst the chaos, a beautiful bond was formed. They had gone from paternal figures to protectors, all the while holding onto their love for their newfound companion they never knew they needed. Emma, in her profound bravery and captivating awkwardness, had caught the hearts of the Winchester brothers and their angelic ally, creating an unbreakable bond.

Interwoven in their world of mystic monsters and deadly danger, they discovered an unlikely friendship and an unspoken vow: they had each other's backs, always. Emma's jarring entry into their team had shaken up their closely guarded universe, showing them that while they fought the darkness, there existed light and love in their unique family dynamic.

The story of Emma, the awkward fearless hunter, held a mirror to Dean, Sam, and Cas, reminding them of their own beginnings and the protective bonds they had forged on the perilous path they walked together. She became their unifier in the face of adversity, the string that tied them together, making them a team... a family.

For Emma, what started as a way to help others had turned into an incredible journey of strength, camaraderie, and, above all, sacrifice. With Dean, Sam, and Cas by her side, she was ready to face the supernatural world unafraid, her awkward quirks now a badge of honor in their close-knit family. She may have been their protege, but in their hearts, they knew, Emma was their savior too. Thus, the saga of Supernatural continued, now with an extra sense of fraternity, love, and a promise to stand by each other, always.

▁ ▂ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ SPN █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▂ ▁

#dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #supernatural #spn imagine #spn fanfic #dean fanfiction #sam fanfiction #castiel fanfiction #sister reader #spnfandom #the winchester brothers #dean imagine #sam imagine #castiel imagine #dean and sam #dean and cas

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imagineteamfreewill · 2 years

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Undercover

Title: Undercover

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2,139

Warnings: Guns, mentions getting arrested

Square Filled: Rival AU

Summary: Y/N runs into Sam on a hunt and it goes as well as she could expect.

A/N: This is a submission for the extended 2021-2022 SPN AU Bingo (@spnaubingo). As always, thank you for reading and supporting me. Please let me know what you think! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

You’d thought you’d been paranoid this morning when you passed the old bookstore on Maple Street and had to do a double take. Then, after you’d seen the ghost of his figure ducking into the local animal hospital just off Highway 30, you’d made a u-turn in an old bait shop’s gravel parking lot just so you could drive past and look for his car. It wasn’t until you’d crept your way into the old marina’s guard building that you realized that you had, in fact, found the same hunt as Sam Winchester.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you muttered as you pulled yourself up onto the top of the upper cabinets. Once you were settled, you flicked off your flashlight and watched as Sam trekked back up the dock towards your hiding place, his own maglight in hand.

He was only a dozen feet away from the back door when he froze and carefully pulled out his gun. You tensed, watching in silence as he peered through the midnight fog that blanketed the lake and the surrounding area. You hadn’t spotted anything suspicious, and you’d been careful to cover up any trace of yourself, which meant that Sam’s sudden change in behavior could only be due to something more nefarious than yourself.

Slowly, Sam crept into the guardhouse, keeping his gun drawn. You held your breath.

“You’re out of your depth with this one,” he finally said, and suddenly his light shone directly in your eyes.

You huffed and held up your free hand to block the light, squinting at him in irritation. “And you’re still a jerk. Nice to see you too, Sam.”

“Get down from there and go home. I’ve already done all the research and I can easily handle this on my own.”

“Oh yeah?” You carefully lowered yourself down from the cabinets and pulled your own gun from the holster strapped to your thigh. You’d stopped tucking it into your jeans a long time ago, opting instead for a more practical option when the chances of running into someone were slim. “Then how come that David said there were no hunters in the area?”

Sam made a face. “Who the hell is David?”

Rolling your eyes, you stomped past him, fully ignoring the gun he kept trained on you. The security guard’s desk would only be unattended for another five minutes. You’d been in the middle of searching for the disc that contained the antiquated security system’s footage from the past two weeks when Sam had interrupted you.

"What are you doing?” he questioned, coming closer to watch over your shoulder.

“Your mom,” you snarked back.

The disc was shoved in a drawer underneath a short stack of file folders and a notebook with yellowed pages. You pulled it out and turned your flashlight on to inspect the label on the front just to be sure you’d found the right thing, but Sam snatched it out of your hand before you could get a good look.

“Hey!” You grabbed at it, but he held it out of your reach as he read the front himself. “Sam Winchester, this is my hunt! I have been here for over a week now and if you don’t stop interfering, I will call the police on you!”

He only grinned and tucked the DVD into the inside pocket of his jacket. His gun had also been tucked away, leaving him with just the maglight in hand as he looked you over.

“We both know that never ends well. How many times have you tried that one? Three? Four?”

You kept your own gun out and narrowed your eyes at him. “Go. Home.”

“No.”

The sound of footsteps approaching the front doors made you both freeze, and you hurried to switch off your flashlights and escape. When the door swung open only a few moments later, you ducked behind the table. Sam was already crouching behind it and he pushed you into view as he crawled underneath the vinyl tablecloth to hide. Though the guard had yet to turn on the overhead lights, the smug look on Sam’s face was clear as he disappeared from your sight.

Quickly, you unclipped your holster and shoved both it and your gun inside one of the lower cabinets. They weren’t hidden well, but you could only hope that no one would spot it before you could get back to retrieve them. You barely had time to shoot Sam a look of utter loathing before the lights came on and the guard spotted you.

“Hey, you can’t be in here,” he said, heading right for you.

It took everything in you not to reveal Sam’s presence as the guard cuffed you and marched you over to his desk so he could phone the police. Logically, you knew that one hunter on the case was better than two of them locked up for trespassing, even if it was Sam Winchester.

Three hours later, the officer who’d collected you from the marina and brought you down to the station stepped into the holding cell area and unlocked the door. You looked up, a little surprised that David had even answered the phone associated with your alias. He wasn’t always the most reliable backup.

“You’re free to go, ma’am. I’m so sorry for the mixup,” the officer said, giving you a tight smile.

You stood from the bench and stretched a little, popping your back as the man held the cell door open for you. He led you out into the main part of the station, but you slowed your pace as you neared his desk.

Sam sat opposite the officer’s chair, his hands cuffed to a metal loop on the desk in front of him. When he saw the officer had returned, he turned his head to meet your eyes, his expression unreadable.

“Can I ask if you were able to get ahold of my supervisor?” you asked, closing the distance between you and the two men.

The officer pulled your bag of personal items from the bottom drawer of the desk and started removing the items from the clear plastic. He checked each of them off on your intake form as he worked, not bothering to look up as he replied.

“No, but we found this man impersonating a federal agent and interrogating local employees. When we contacted the man he claimed to be his supervisor, we realized that you were the real deal and this guy’s the fake,” he explained.

Raising an eyebrow, you glanced over at Sam, who was slouching further and further in his chair as the officer spoke.

“How did you come to that conclusion?”

This time the man looked up at you. He held out your flashlight, badge, wallet, and phone, which you accepted gratefully. A quick glance at the screen told you that you had three missed calls and a voicemail from David, no doubt chewing you out for getting arrested.

“His “supervisor” wasn’t his supervisor at all. The guy does work for the Bureau, though, because he confirmed your role in the case.” He glanced back down at the forms, then slid the paper towards you and held out a pen. “That should be everything. You just need to sign at the bottom saying that we’ve returned all your personal items. I’m sure the Bureau will be happy to clear up any paperwork regarding tonight?”

You nodded and leaned forward to scribble your alias’ signature on the bottom line, ignoring Sam’s glare. As you signed, you tried not to let your immense satisfaction that Bobby had vouched for you and not Sam show.

“I’m glad we could clear all this up,” you said. “Although…” Sam tensed as you paused and finally looked back at him, then at the officer. “This man isn’t impersonating a federal agent.”

“That’s not what your higher-ups said,” replied the officer. He crossed his arms over his chest, regarding you with a suspicious expression. “Are you saying that he’s lying to me?”

Shaking your head, you tucked your badge and wallet back into the pockets of your jeans. “No, sir. I’m saying that he doesn’t know everything regarding this case. Like I told you when I first came in, I’ve been tracing a trail of murders across several states. The scope of this thing is huge and we’ve got hundreds of cases under investigation right now. This man is an undercover agent, one specifically chosen by me to help with my work, so I’m going to ask that you release him from custody. You’ve already risked blowing his cover by arresting him. I’m happy to take care of any paperwork on his behalf.”

After a few moments of consideration, the man sighed and shook his head, muttering to himself. He reached down into the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a second bag. This one held more items than yours, including Sam’s gun and several knives he’d had hidden on his person that you hadn’t been able to see before. You made a mental note of each one as the officer pulled them from the bag and checked them off on the paperwork he’d clearly been in the middle of filling out when he’d gone to release you from the holding cell. You also noticed that the disc with the security footage wasn’t among the items in the bag, which meant you’d have to ask Sam to give it back to you. Irritation grew in the center of your chest and you cleared your throat, pressing your lips together to keep yourself from saying something that would blow your cover.

While he worked, Sam stared at you in silence. You could feel his gaze focused on you as you supervised the officer going through Sam’s belongings, and he continued to stare at you while you filled out the papers regarding his release. Finally, the officer went around the desk and uncuffed him, then handed him the pen to sign off that he’d received all his personal items.

You stood beside Sam in silence as he collected his things, then stayed by his side as the two of you walked through the station and out into the parking lot. Your motel was only a few blocks down the street, and you had no doubt that Sam was most likely staying there too.

“Why did you do that?” he finally asked as you turned out of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk.

“Do you want me to go back and tell him I was lying?” you asked, not looking over at him. “Because then we’ll both be in even more trouble, and I don’t really want that.”

Sam sighed. “Y/N—”

“Don’t. Just go home and let me do my job.”

“This is my job too, you know.”

This time you did look over at him, but only for a second. “I didn’t get you out of there so you could help me, Sam. I got you out because I’m sure there are other people who need help. I’ve got this covered, and if you had only listened to me in the first place—”

“I was here first, so if anyone’s leaving, it should be—”

“Will you just stop?” you shouted. You stopped and turned to face him. He seemed startled by your outburst, but you didn’t let his unusual show of surprise faze you. “It’s very clear that neither one of us likes the other, and it’s even more clear that we can’t work together. I did you a huge favor sticking my neck out back there for you.” You pointed back down the street towards the station. “So for once in your life, can you just let someone else be in charge? Just give me the disc, go home, stay out of my life! Can you handle that, Sam? Or is that too hard for you?”

He stared at you, lips pressed together, and you crossed your arms over your chest. When he didn’t reply after a moment more, you turned and started walking again, leaving him standing with his back to the street.

“Fine,” Sam said, calling out to you as you kept walking. “But next time, don’t expect me to help you.”

You scoffed but you didn’t say anything. You knew that deep down Sam had to be a good person—bad people didn’t willingly sacrifice everything good in life—but something about him made you want to bang your head against the wall. There are many things that you wanted in life as a hunter, but getting away from him was at the top of the list. If letting him think that he had the upper hand here would get him to leave, then you’d let the argument fade. There were more important things to worry about.

Thank you for reading! <3

If you liked this story, please reblog! That is the best way to share your love for my work and to spread it so that other people can enjoy this story. If you would like to support me further, please consider supporting my writing by donating on Ko-fi, supporting me on Patreon, or commissioning a story of your own!

@mrswhozeewhatsis @alexwinchester23 @shaelyn102 @lyarr24 @supermoonpanda @ultimatecin73 @musiclovinchic93 @shamelesslydean @mlovesstories @ellie-andthemachine @fandomoniumflurry

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armynatural · 1 year

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My Supernatural Fic Recs

SERIES

Supernatural: the Sullivan Series by @katehuntington dean, oc, sam

How You & I Will Be by @katehuntington dean x reader

Picture Perfect by @angelkurenai dean x reader x sam

Lose My Mind by @deanlenaotp dean x elena, sam x caroline au!, romance

ONE SHOTS

Fallen by @jensengirl83 dean x reader

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 7 months

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DAY ONE: Blood Play w/ Sam Winchester (ft. Vampire!Reader)

a/n: OMG IT'S FINALLY HERE!! I can't tell you guys how excited I've been to finally be able to work on kinktober— like you guys have no idea. Anywhozers, here's day one, and I hope you guys enjoy!!

masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3

TAGLIST: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @zippertwat @hallecarey1 @alixwriter

Sex between Sam and you has always been fun.

With you being a vampire, you always had more stamina and a higher sex drive than the older - albeit younger seeing as you’re a whopping one hundred years older than him - man.

There were always new things to try with your immortal abilities, but feeding off of Sam while you were going at it had never been a line you could bring yourself to cross. Sure, you’d thought about it once or twice, but that was only logical seeing as though you could hear each beat of his heart, the heated blood continually running through his veins; but you could never, you loved him too much to even fathom hurting him and drinking from him beyond repair.

Until now… that is.

You’d been going at it for hours now, the amount of orgasms you had pulled from each other's body had been lost to the adrenaline fogging your thought process. You were currently riding him with such fervor that you could almost feel your own undead heart race.

“Fuck, Sam.” You sighed, head falling back as you gripped his shoulders painfully. He’d gotten used to the accidental slip of your restraint, the evidence of your super strength slipping through the cracks being the bruises that were most definitely going to be there tomorrow. He bounced you on his cock repeatedly, your ass meeting his lap in loud slaps that resounded lewdly throughout your shared bedroom.

You could feel him nearing his own climax, the occasional thrusting up of his hips being almost once or twice to none.

“Bite me.” His voice was strained, jaw clenched tightly in a pathetic attempt to keep himself from cumming without stating his desires. “What?” You breathed out in shock, your bounces faltering. He nearly whimpered at the loss of friction, but he held himself back, his big brown eyes staring up at you in an attempt to gauge your reaction.

“I said bite me.” He huffed, lungs finally taking in much needed air.

“Sam…” You started unsurely, “I’m not sure you know what you’re asking for.”

“I do. Fuck - I spent hours researching just to make sure it was safe.” Your heart warmed at the confession, but remembering the precarious situation you were both in, you sobered up, slipping back into that sultry mindset as you dragged the tips of your fingers up the side of his neck.

“That's what you want, Sammy baby?” You whispered seductively. Your thumb pressed on the pulse point under his jaw. Your eyes fluttered shut at the tempting feeling of his blood rushing under the pad of your finger. “Yeah, ‘want that real bad.” He groaned out, his hips jumping up at the pleasurable pressure.

You felt yourself let go internally, murmuring out, “Just let me know if it’s too much, okay?” He nodded fastly, “I promise.”

You began to ride him again, hand still pressed against his throat. The dominance was accidental, but he knew it was your hunting instincts. You hadn’t fed off of a human in the last 90 years, it had always been animal blood or an underground network of willing donors - even though Sam really doesn’t like the shady latter.

You could feel your body thrumming with excitement even though you knew this wasn’t going to be an actual kill, but just the idea of biting into someone’s skin - Sam’s skin - for that matter, had caused your body to gain a never ending pace, one that Sam had found quite difficult to follow, but you weren’t doing this with yourself in mind.

You wanted to share a part of you with Sam that would mark him as yours forever. So, to do that, you wanted him to reach the highest high, then give him the finishing blow. Sam could feel his balls tightening, that familiar coil in his belly as he desperately chased after his release. Before he could crash over the edge, you roughly exposed his neck to you and bit down, hard.

A strangled moan lodged in your boyfriend’s throat, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as he felt you take blood from him. The taste of him was incredible, but you had forced yourself to pull off of him, your mouth stained with his copper essence as he released his seed inside of you, a whine wedging its way out of you.

Sam flopped onto his back, chest heaving as you placed bloody comforting kisses all over his chest.

“You okay, baby?” You asked gently, running your fingers through his long brunette locks.

“Mhm.” He hummed with a dopey smile on his face.

“Sure,” You giggled, “I’m gonna go get you some water.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober day one #plus size reader #x plus size reader #plus size!reader #x chubby reader #chubby reader #sam fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester kinktober #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x plus size reader #sam winchester smut #nsfmeau

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waiting-for-cas-to-save-me · 2 years

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Happy birthday Sam Winchester.

Adina is clear in to her teens for this story

Adina had been looking forward to this day the day that Sammy would turn 39. one before the big four oh. She wanted to vacuum a cake but decided against it because that's always what people do on a birthday they think of you cake and she didn't want to do something the same as every other birthday She didn't tell Dean shouldn't tell Bobby she didn't tell Cas. She didn't even tell Gabriel. She just bounced around from place to place None of Tim Freewell ever knowing where she would be. The prayers of her concern father and her best friends didn't even deter her from doing this She wanted to do something to surprise him and that's what she was going to do. She had remembered a conversation she had with Gabriel several weeks ago concerning things to do for Sam's birthday. One of which was to play in is favorite song Instead of like happy birthday or anything like that she was supposed to wake him up at 7:30 with his favorite song And she would. Now mind you this is young angel had probably spent way too much time around Gabriel Because her thought of endearment of Sam wanting to work a casein a very slow like considerably slow month of cases resulted in something that would actually probably tick Sam off. She had started a fake case using anything at her resources Everything that she had ever learned from Gabriel and Balthazar and Crowley We're all coming into play in this one moment and she didn't process that this was wrong.

She read newsletters witnesses actual sightings of things. all to get Sam interested. But at the end of the case would not be a dead body or hopefully a very angered Sam At the end of the case there would be a gathering of people. As many people as this young angel could conjure that meant something to Sam.

She had a plan to use her grace to top Sam up into Jess's heaven So he can see her to see Mary and John to see Ash and Joe and Ellen. She was going to have Gabriel Castiel Dean Bobby Everyone that Sam cares about Adam All of it.

The case was mostly to get Sam out of the house So she could set this up without just a stop of her fingers. It took her hours and she made mac and cheese She did all kinds of things things that she knew Sam really liked she had bowls of lucky charms and of pot of videos Has she looked through some of his memories and seen some of that happiest ones Even if they weren't of the best time of this life But that was of the time of his life when things were still pure and he didn't quite understand the world with monsters under the bed.

She had almost forgotten about her brother and sister She knew Jack didn't have an ability to keep his mouth shut about anything. He's worth the Castiel when it comes to understanding human culture So Adina had Claire watching him. telling her that he needs to be occupied long enough for her to grab them later if you wanted to make Sam something for his birthday or she wanted to get him something that would be completely understandable she just needed time to Get things set up so for the last few days Claire had been dealing with Jack and Adina's phone was blowing up with texts She kept hearing Claire's frustrated prayers and ignored every one of them.

When his birthday finally rolled around She was up bright and early 5:00 a.m. to be exact. and waited and waited She had made some coffee and everything but she sat and waited 7-Eleven rolls around so she's waiting to sap herself into Sam's room knowing that him being hunter that he was a late sleeper so better not open that door. When she finally is acting into the room it was 7:25 She was standing at the foot of the bed waiting for that clock to turn Once it did with a snap of her fingers heat of the moment by Asia started to play And what did Sam shut up because she was no longer in the room As soon as she started the song she was gone He looked around trying to shut off the alarm clock but couldn't. As it wasn't coming from the alarm clock it was just protruding from the walls. Sam was screaming Gabriel turned this shit off When Gabriel showed he said that wasn't him You had another angel to point that finger at.

" Adina Novak Winchester get your ass out here" Sam called very very pissed off. Waking Dean up in the process with Dean confused until he walked down the hall to hear the music coming from Sam's room remembering the mystery spot Dean was a little free for his own life But Adina wasn't answering to the call of her name Don't say I'm new she wouldn't necessarily answer to being summoned either I shouldn't a quote unquote full angel. Now she had to make sure that he found that case and went to work it That part was easy enough just stage of phone call from Bobby. Which follows shortly And the plan was well underway by now The boys went to work the case as Gabriel stayed back with Adina to get this place set up I laughed the entire time telling her that is nowhere near his favorite song I put him in a time loop with that song every morning at 7:30 repeating over 300 Wednesdays I didn't smack your uncle Because now she understood why Sam was so angry about it NYE called Gabriel instead of calling her. So what the help of one other angel she got things set up and planned She went to go get her brother and her sister and have a place for Sam to sit for his little trip to heaven. It didn't take salmon to eat very long to figure out this case was a fake And who had planned it.

They couldn't get back into the bunker Adina had sealed the entire place. top to bottom. So they had to wait to be let in

When they finally did and Sam looks around He could see Bobby he could see Rufus Everybody Everyone that he knew in life declare Castiel Balses are Chuck Kevin Garth You name it Even death showed up Adina quickly snapped a half party hat on to both boys' heads "Happy birthday Sammy sorry to make your day a loving hell but I had to get you out of here And I am really sorry about heater the moment I was not aware that you actually don't like that song And I'm going to need you to take a seat because this may be the people that are physically here for your birthday But there's some people that are waiting to see you And they're not exactly here So you either sit in the chair or I am going to have to shove you."

Samsung willingly Not really understanding quite yet what was going on till she stopped in front of him and said are you ready.

Castiel was smiling like a proud father was both of his other children on his sides. Adina could hear Jack asking what was about to happen So she turned around and reminded him There was nothing to fear She was an angel of the Lord.

the whole room started to laugh as when she referred to herself like that something was very right in the world. when she took her to fingers to Sam's head and then she was gone Sam's body went kind of limp like a noodle a wet noodle.

the rest of the room Just sat around for a little while and ate some food and drink some drinks everyone had to keep Jack out of the beer. Claire was selling to you now She had been in cohorts with Adina on keeping Jack under wraps And she was very happy to see the things her little sister was doing to make somebody's birthday the best day it could be.

When Sam turned around to face Edina and heaven he didn't quite understand where he was He just saw the same thing as he had when he had actually died He asked if she had killed him She said "no We're just going for a walk, This is my one major present to you I knew I couldn't get you anything that would actually make a dent I wanted to make a memory instead of giving you a material item because that seemed pointless. You deserve to see your friends who are no longer on the earth So That's what we're going to do. Nothing You really deserve to see them So if I make some major bad decisions and break a ton of rules that have been Who gives a shit Hey come on Jess is waiting." She walked with him and then guided him into the building that looked exactly like his old apartment in California.

" Are you serious She's in there"

" I remember saying this is not just I didn't misses her having it's her ultimate bliss So no matter what you see in there Just now I'm right here and yes she can see me. We're just here to talk for a little bit You have many more people on the list.

When Sam Locked eyes with Jessica he fell to his knees the two sat and talked with her for a little while. she wished him a happy birthday and Reminded him that Everything happened for a reason And let it seem that he had a pretty good girl guiding him through. Sam stuttered for a hot second trying to find the words to say she's not my girlfriend He didn't really know what to explain Adina as She wasn't as daughter but she wasn't necessarily his niece either. But she definitely wasn't his sister.

When they left Jess's heaven, It was on to ash They sat and had a beer talked shot the breeze Another happy birthday wish on to Joe and Ellen Joe and Ellen were not quite understanding how the hell Sam was there. They had never seen a Adina before had seen many angels up in heaven But this one they have never seen She explained her situation how she could never step foot into the garden Did it take a lot of work and her grace would be depleted after this for a very long time But she was willing to do just about anything for Sam.

the last stop was on to mom and dad Sam held his breath seeing John till she nuged his ribs "go on.if I can be near chuck you can be near him."she mved up to a tree branch and sat and watched .smiling the whole time. till she came down to the group of three. "sammy its time go back I cant stay up here much longer.say your good byes."

he gave his hugs and when on his way with the young angel. "Happy birthday."

Sam gave her the biggest hug he could and thanked her with tears in his eyes.She was tired and weak but stayed awake or stayed functioning throughout most of the rest of the evening with Jack and Cass and Gabriel checking in on her periodically Balthazar made sure that the couch was always accessible and that her bedroom door was at least cracked. Claire had a couple of water waiting for her and a beer for Sam

it was their little thing.

TAGLIST.

@french-vanilla-in-the-clouds @smiling-girl@gabrielslittleangel @mrsblake-s @xoxo-bunbun-xo

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sams-sass · 1 year

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Hidden Desires

Hello! I decided to take a break from my series and write this fluffy one-shot full of mutual pining and idiots in love. I hope you enjoy!!

Summary: You and the boys are on a case where hidden desires *wink wink* become known in a very...personal way.

Warnings: Language, kissing, light smut, implied sex, annoyed Dean, dreamy Sam

*I made up this monster and its lore because I’m cool like that

--------------------------------------------

You stifled a yawn in the backseat of the Impala, your head rolling against the window. Sam still had his nose buried in the lore book, ignoring the world around him. Dean drummed softly on the steering wheel, his lips moving around the words of a familiar song. You slid forward on the seat and poked your head between them.

"Anyone else hungry?" You asked.

"You are literally always hungry," Dean answered, looking back at you over his shoulder.

"I know." You said dramatically. "I also just want to get out of this car! It's been like seven hours." You whined.

"I got you snacks," Sam said, looking up from his book for the first time.

"I ate them all." You said, looking down at your lap.

"You ate them all?" Sam said, turning in his seat to check for himself.

"Seven. Hours." You said loudly, clapping after each syllable.

"I am not judging here, but that was like 50 dollars worth of gas station snacks." He looked at you then, a slight smirk coming through his confusion.

"Yeah, but Sammy. You got my favorite ones. You know I can not be held responsible around my favorite snacks." You said, a mocking tone in your voice.

"Fine!" Dean roared, clearly annoyed. "Can we please just get to where we are going? We are only an hour away." He pleaded.

"If I don't wither away by that point." You shot back. A low audible groan from Dean was the only answer you received.

An hour later, you pulled into the motel. You wrinkled your nose at the neon sign that read "vacancy." Yeah, no shit.

The room was a disgusting puke green with yellow floral wallpaper. You placed your duffel on your bed and looked at the sheets for any stains that were an absolute no. They looked surprisingly clean, and you settled down a little bit. You grabbed your key and made your way next door to knock on the boy's door. Sam opened it. He had stripped out of his flannel and jacket, showing off a loose-fitting black tee underneath. Whenever he lost some layers, it reminded you how large he was. Everything about him was just...bigger. You cleared your throat and walked into their room.

"You think these flowers were always this lovely shade of urine, or do you think that happened over time?" You asked sarcastically, running your finger over a tear in the wallpaper.

"I'm going to tell myself it was designed that way," Dean said, putting a six-pack of beer into the fridge.

After putting your stuff away and allowing your muscles to stretch, you climbed back into the Impala and were off into town. The air was darkening, the moon poking out from its slumber. You rested your chin in your hand, looking out the window and daydreaming of a life that could be. A life long forgotten and left behind.

The bar was like every other bar. Slightly dirty. Slightly smelly. But comfortingly predictable. The three of you found a table and sat together, looking over the menu. Dean got up and ordered you drinks to start, knowing you would order him a cheeseburger. You and Sam sat together. A spark of electricity sat low within your abdomen, being this close to him. You cleared your throat and looked over at Sam.

"Tell me about the case, Sammy." You instructed, leaning your elbows on the table.

"Uh, right. All the vics were found with their hearts ripped out, which would make me think werewolf, but the lunar cycle doesn't match. All I can find is that the vics were all single; no one had any significant other. It's the only thing connecting them at this point." Sam explained, his voice growing with confidence as he spoke.

"Huh. Interesting." You said, nodding your head. "We should talk to friends and family. See if we can find anything more about them being single." You suggested. You smiled at Dean as he handed you your drink.

"That's what I was thinking too." Sam nodded, sipping his beer. The tip of his pink tongue came out to lick away the residue of foam left on his lips.

"Great minds." You said softly, watching him smile.

You ordered your food and ate and talked together. There was a lightness to the boys tonight—a fresh case with questions still hanging in the air always made for a long evening. However, all traces of the case were forgotten when Sam said Christian Bale was the best batman. Dean could not stop the argument that came out of him. You listened briefly, but then your mind wandered as it often did. You ran the pad of your middle finger over the rim of your glass and rested your head in your hand. You thought of a home- a place far from monsters and pain and sorrow. A world where you felt safe and happy. And when you picture this world. You pictured Sam. His brown hair fell into his eyes as he leaned over a book he read for pleasure, not knowing how to kill a monster. His smile shines bright on any day, his soul feeling happy and whole instead of worn and used. You dreamed of a world where you could pull him to you. To finally feel his skin glide over yours. To let yourself fall into your most aching desires.

Dean's beer glass came down hard onto the table, interrupting your thoughts. You jumped slightly and then relaxed when you saw it was only him.

"Sam. You take that shit back right now." Dean said, pointing at Sam with his forefinger.

"What? Absolutely not. Twizzlers are amazing movie candy." Sam stood his ground.

"You are out of your fucking mind," Dean said, and even though neither one would admit it, they loved their banter together.

"It's not my fault you think skittles are the height of luxury." Sam challenged, taking another bite of his salad.

"I-no. Ya know what? I don't have to listen to this nonsense. I am getting another beer." Dean said, standing up and throwing his napkin on his plate. "And no. I will not be getting you one." Dean said before turning on his heel and walking away. Even though he was already leaving, you and Sam still heard the "fucking twizzlers," he mumbled to himself angrily.

"Hey, where were you just now?" Sam asked you, his hands pushing away his plate so he could turn to face you fully.

"Oh ya know...just getting lost in my imagination." You said with a smile. Sam smiled back at you.

"Anything good?" He asked.

"Sometimes I just like to picture a world where monsters don't exist and I can just...live. You know?" You said, twisting a cocktail straw in your fingers.

"Oh yeah...I get that." Sam agreed, his eyes looking down at the table. "And uh...well. What do you picture in this world?" Sam asked, his body leaning towards you. He was so close you could smell the beer on his breath. You looked down at his mouth for the briefest of seconds. You swallowed thickly and licked your lips. A small trickle of apprehension fell down your spine. How much could you really open up?

"Well, I picture easy mornings and long nights. Mornings when I wake to my own bed, in my own room full of things that make me happy. Nights where I relax into a comfortable couch that holds me in all the right places, and I never worry about what's lurking in the shadows. I imagine my own space that I get to claim and call mine. I picture all the comforts of normalcy. All the things that are out of our grasp." You said, your eyes unfocused as you trailed into a simpler world. Sam brought you back by taking your hand in his. You felt all the scars and callouses on his skin, reminding you of your harsh reality.

"I think of all those things, too, Y/N." He said with a sad smile. Sam looked deeply into your eyes, his thumb making absentminded circles on your hand. He found himself getting lost in you again. He felt the physical ache in his chest from being so close to you. He wanted to hold you close and reassure you that this was his favorite version of you. Real and raw, with a touch of poetry mixed in. Sam desperately wanted to tell you he thought of all those things, but with you. He let those unspoken words hang in the air between you. He could hold on for a little longer.

Sam was looking at you so intensely that it made your heart drop. His hand still held yours, his thumb leaving a pattern. You swallowed and tried to steady your breathing. You couldn't tell him he was there with you in this fantasy world. You let that thought drift freely into the box you created for all things Sam and locked it away. You could hold on for a little longer.

Sam seemed to realize he was still holding your hand and quickly let go. He cleared his throat and broke eye contact. You pulled your hand back to yourself and moved your fingers, still feeling the fleeting touch of his skin on yours. --------------------- Dean knocked on the door three times, you and Sam standing behind him. You pulled on your shirt's collar, hating how your suit fit. The door opened, and a man in his mid-thirties stood before you. He was of average height and build, with wavy blond hair and blue eyes.

"Jake Turner?" Dean asked, his left hand flashing his fake badge.

"Yeah?" He answered, his eyes moving between the three of you.

"We have some questions about your friend. William Gardner." Dean said in his authoritative gravely voice.

"Oh, um, sure...come in," Jake answered, opening the door wider for you three to enter.

"How can I help, agents?" Jake asked, placing his hands into his back pockets. You almost felt bad for the guy. He was clearly nervous and thought you were actually F.B.I.

"Can you tell us anything about Will's behavior in the days leading up to his death? Was he agitated? Angry? Distant?" Sam asked, his head tilting to the side.

"No, he was normal. I saw him on Tuesday at the bar; he was talking about work and planning a trip up north once the seasons changed. I didn't notice anything different about him." He said, looking away and shaking his head. "Well, there is one thing I forgot about it until now." He started, looking back over to the three of you. "He mentioned he thought he saw Lucy," Jake said, his brow furrowing.

"Who's Lucy?" Dean asked.

"College girlfriend. She's the one who got away if you know what I mean. He never recovered from that." Jake said, pressing his lips together in a line.

"Thank you for your time." You said with a smile. ----------------------- You fell into the chair and rolled your neck, pressing your fingers into your sore shoulders. The day had been long. You were talking to friends and family of the victims, hearing their desperate plea for answers. You still needed to get to go to the coroner. You stretched your legs and let out a long sigh.

"Well, that didn't answer any questions," Dean said as he placed the takeout boxes on the table before you.

"No, it did not." You said, sitting up taller to look inside for your food. The case was confusing. The victims spread out among gender, race, age, background, career, sexual orientation...everything. Your overactive mind raced with possibilities and clues to try and make the puzzle pieces fit together. But nothing came.

"Here, Y/N." The sound of your name pulled you from your thoughts. Sam stood in front of you with a drink in his extended hand. As you took it from him, your fingers grazed his, and it sent you drifting back to last night when you couldn't stop the feelings that bubbled inside you.

"Thank you." You said, sending a smile Sam's way.

"Yeah." He answered, looking down at the floor. You watched as he sat in the chair next to you, the smell of him invading your nose. His long fingers undid the buttons of his shirt cuffs. Your body melted as you watched him roll the fabric up to his elbow, his muscular forearms showing.

You shook your head and looked down at your untouched food. Suddenly you were hungry for something else. Clearing your throat and shoveling food into your mouth, you let that thought be locked away among the others. ------------------- Your motel room was dark except for the small lamp on your nightstand. You had tried to sleep, but being unable to solve this case bothered you. A low rumble of thunder perked your ears, a small smile growing on your face. You yanked on a pair of sweatpants and opened the door. The air was thick and heavy with the ascending storm. You could taste humidity in the back of your throat as you sat on the concrete under the roof. The rain started quickly then. One, two, and three drops hit the parking lot's asphalt. Then an uncountable amount of rain rapidly fell from the sky, darkening the pavement and making it look slick. Mist from the water sprayed your skin, leaving goosebumps over you.

A door opened behind you, and you felt him before you saw him.

"Hey, Y/N." Sam's calm voice greeted you.

"Hi, Sam." You answered over your shoulder.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked, coming to sit next to you.

"I like thunderstorms." You said.

"Me too." Sam agreed. He watched as you turned your face closer to the mist and steam that bounced off the pavement. Your eyes closed, and the right side of your mouth turned up in a smile. Sam couldn't help but stare. His lips parted, and his breathing became slow and deep. Lightning flashed across the sky, and he watched as the light flickered across your face briefly. His fingers twitched in his lap, his skin begging to touch yours. The rain left tiny droplets across your exposed neck and arms. His tongue ran across his bottom lip, aching for the moisture covering your body.

You opened your eyes and looked over at Sam. He was staring at you, his face difficult to read. The yellow light above the door cast a glow around Sam, making the contours of his face seem deeper and giving his jaw and cheekbones even greater definition than average. You swallowed thickly and felt the slow burn through your core. Water droplets coated his forearms and neck, pooling in the notch in his throat. The front pieces of his hair were damp, dipping into his eyes from the weight.

"What else do you like, Sam?" You asked, leaning back on one arm. He paused, looking away for a moment.

"Books." He said finally.

"Well, we all know that." You said with a smile. He smiled, too, tilting his head down.

"I like honey in my tea." He said after some thought.

"Me too." You practically whispered.

"What else do you like, Y/N?" His voice was thick, and you felt the pull in your chest from how his tongue rolled your name around his mouth.

"I like the way I feel when I am with you." You said in honesty. You watched as Sam's face fell, his eyes going wide.

Suddenly a loud slap of thunder echoed across the sky, making you and Sam both jump. A soft chuckle left your lips, and you nervously tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. Sam pushed himself into a crouching position and held out his hand for you. He helped you up, and you found yourselves face to face once more.

"Goodnight, Y/N." He whispered into the space between your bodies.

"Sweet dreams, Sam." You whispered back, letting yourself have one last look at him before retiring to your motel room. --------------------- Loud banging woke you up, your face rolling into the pillow.

"Y/N!" You heard Dean's deep voice call. You stumbled out of bed, not caring you were just in short shorts and a tank top and ripped the door open.

"What?" You mumbled.

"Get dressed. We got a new vic." Dean said, shoving a cup of coffee into your hand.

"Mmm." You hummed in agreement and closed the door with your foot.

Sam had to ball his hands into fists to stop himself from staring at your body. Your shorts and tank top didn't leave much to the imagination, and Sam suddenly felt restricted in his clothes. He bit his lip to keep himself from smirking at your disheveled state. Hair a mess, eyes half open, and lips puffy from sleep. He so badly wanted to grab your face to his and finally let his desires take control. But he wouldn't. He once again pushed past his feelings and let logic have its way. -------------------- You pulled up to the local college and double-checked the map, ensuring you were at the right house—sorority girls. You could hear the cheering from Dean's inner monologue. The house was huge and old. Massive white pillars and brick complimented the outside. Windows were abundant. Flowers sat nicely on the porch. You knocked this time, thinking the girls might be more apt to speak to you.

The door opened, and a girl stood in front of you. She was what most people thought when they heard "Sorority." She was beautiful. Long blond hair fell to her waist. Her eyes were a clear sky blue lined perfectly with eyeliner and mascara. She wore pink athletic wear, matching leggings, and a crop top that showed her slim waist and toned muscles.

"Good morning." You smiled. You saw her look at all three of you, her eyes lingering on the boys for a little longer than you would like.

"Can I help you?" She asked, her brow furrowed in question.

"We have some questions about Allison Lutz." You said gently, showing the girl your fake badge.

"Oh, yeah. Ally. Of course. Most of us are still here." She said, and you made your way inside. The girls were all together in the main living space. They all looked upset, some more than others.

"We just want to know a little more about Ally. Anything that might help. Was she acting differently? Was she scared, anxious, or distant? Anything." You asked, looking around the room at each girl. One girl stood up; she was also beautiful and looked similar to the girl who opened the door.

"I was her roommate. I could probably answer the most questions." She said, walking over to you.

"Ok, what's your name?" You asked, taking out your notebook.

"Molly." She answered, wiping her nose with her sleeve.

"Hi, Molly. Let's talk." You said and pulled her to the side for more privacy. Molly told you about Allison's schedule and her friends outside the sorority. She told you that Allison was scared she was failing chem but that she was an excellent student and worked hard.

"Ok, great, thank you." You nodded as you wrote down some of what she said. You decided to throw a hail mary pass. Something was bothering you about this case.

"Molly, did Allison say anything about a past relationship or seeing someone from her past again?" You asked her, hoping she could finally give some answer. Molly looked away, thinking for a moment.

"No, all she talked about was Ben," Molly said after a beat.

"Ben?" You asked.

"Yeah, Ally is...was...totally in love with him. Anytime she wasn't talking about him, she was daydreaming about him." Molly said, and you wrote it down in your notebook.

"Ok, thank you, Molly. Could I get your number in case something comes up?" You asked, and she nodded, reciting her cell to you.

You walked back over to the boys, who were talking to some of the girls. You could tell they were getting about as far as you had gotten. Sam and Dean exchanged a look before glancing back at you. You knew that look, the "we aren't going to find anything here look." Thanking the girls for their time and information, you returned to the Impala.

------------------- She sat huddled with the rest of them. Her rouse fooled even the infamous Winchesters. She watched as you talked to Molly, and a smirk settled over her lips. There was nothing Molly could tell you, and she knew it. She expected hunters would pick up on her trail. What she didn't expect to see...was how he looked at you. Sam Winchester. The once-longed-for Boy King, who had his fair share of demons in his past, looked at you with such longing even she felt it in her blood. She watched as he bit his lip when you started speaking, eyes lingering on your frame. He licked his lips when you brushed past him, chest filling with a heavy breath. An idea formed in her head quickly. She would rid herself of at least two hunters tonight. --------------------- You sat on your bed, your legs crossed under you. Papers and folders full of crime scene photos and lab reports covered your bed. Half-open lore books were spread around as you angrily flipped through the pages. What was it? Why were these people being targeted? You grabbed the last book, flipping back to the section about shapeshifters. An exaggerated sigh left your mouth, but then, you saw it.

Epithymitós, also known as Erastis. Literal Translation: Desire Eater Origin: Greece A subspecies of the Shapeshifter. They stalk the lovesick—those who long for another, whether the feeling is reciprocated or not. They take the form of their victim's love interest, making them feel like they can finally be together. Then, when the victim is at their most vulnerable and their desire is at its highest, they strike. They rip out and consume the hearts of the lovesick. Feasting on the high their victims felt just as they died.

"Oh, my god." You said as you bolted out of your motel room. You banged your fist loudly against the boy's door, Dean answered.

"I figured it out." You said, pushing past him to walk into the motel room.

"The case?" He asked, standing beside you and looking at the book over your shoulder.

"It's an Epithymitós. Literal translation-" You started, pointing to the text.

"Desire eater." Dean finished for you, his face turning quickly to look at you. You stepped away so you could look him in the eye, a smile growing on your face. Suddenly it dawned on you. Your eyebrows stitched together as you looked around the room.

"Where is Sam?" You asked, turning back to Dean.

"I thought he was with you?" Dean said, his voice growing with confusion.

"No..." You trailed off, shaking your head.

"Oh no." Dean's face fell as realization hit him.

You cleared all the takeout boxes and beer bottles off the table in one swipe of your arm. Dean placed a large map of the surrounding area on the table, leaning forward onto his hands. You stood beside him, looking at any site where Sam could be.

"My guess is the monster is trying to get all of us." You assessed.

"I agree," Dean answered, his finger sliding over the map.

"Ok, according to the lore, if needed, they will take the victim to an isolated location." You read directly from the book.

"Ok, and we already said it probably wants us too...so it would pick somewhere we could figure out..." Dean trailed off, leaning closer to the map.

"There!" You pointed to a scattering of factories on the outskirts of town.

"I saw those when we drove in. Not many are in use anymore."

"Let's go." You said, already charging for the door.

Dean pulled out of the parking lot quickly. You and Dean argued about the fastest way to get there the entire drive until Dean practically slid into the gravel. The two of you collected what you needed from the trunk and looked for any clue as to where Sam was being held. The space was massive. About 30, maybe more, abandoned buildings sat before you. You split up, Dean taking one side of the buildings and you taking the other.

Your mind raced as you looked for him—Sam's hidden desire. That's what had gotten you all into this mess, to begin with. Who could it be? You tried to shove down the anger and pain that prickled your heart. Maybe it was Jess. He honestly didn't get over her. How could he? What had happened was awful. You licked your lips and pressed on, putting all feelings of jealousy and confusion into the box for Sam.

After about a half hour of searching, you heard the low sounds of grunts coming from the back of one of the buildings. You quietly paced toward the sound, your gun sturdy in your hands. Rounding a corner, you almost let out a gasp.

Sam sat tied to a chair, his hair falling into his face as he desperately pulled against the ropes. His muscles bulged against the thin fabric of his t-shirt, sweat dripping off his pointed nose. Suddenly, as if someone slapped you, you remembered you needed to help him.

"Oh my god, Sam!" You whisper yelled, running over to him. His head shot up, eyes looking at you with confusion.

"Y/N?" His voice was perplexed.

"Yes, Sam. I'm here." You assured him, placing your gun in the waist of your jeans so you could undo the ropes.

"No, get away from me," Sam said, his shoulders backing away from you.

"What?" You asked, almost hurt. "Sam. It's me." He opened his mouth, but you cut him off. "What were you thinking? Are you out of your fucking mind? We are on a case where we don't know what we are dealing with, and you are just gonna go fuck off with some rando?" You asked, your hands twisting the knots.

"No, it's not like that," Sam said, still unsure.

"Oh, I would love to hear this bullshit explanation!" You started, you couldn't get the ropes, and it was really starting to piss you off.

"Y/N-" Sam tried to interrupt you.

"But lucky for you, I figured it out, and as soon as I get a silver slug in this bitch-we out. I mean, really, Sam. What could possibly-" You stopped dead in your tracks. Your eyes glued to...yourself. You walked through a doorway. You watched as your hips swung and your hands played with your hair. You were wearing nothing but a tank top and underwear.

Your breath stopped, and you glanced back at Sam, who looked like he was about to explode from embarrassment.

"Oh." It was all you could get out.

"Y/N...I..." Sam babbled, his eyes moving quickly between you and...other you. Fake you sauntered over and stopped right in front of you. A devilish grin sat on her lips.

"Don't tell me you didn't know..." She said—her voice like yours but breathy and low.

"I..." You started, your voice was shakey and nervous sounding.

"I..." Fake you said in a mocking tone. Her laughter filled the dark room.

"I'm you, ya know?" She began. She ran her fingers over Sam's shoulders. You watched Sam pull away from her touch, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

"I know what you think, what you feel. I can see your memories. They are all here for the taking. I know how desperately you want him. I hear your pathetic sobs in the shower. I feel the longing ache in your chest. I can give it to him. I can give him everything you are too scared to take." You felt the embarrassment and anger growing inside you. An unstoppable cocktail of emotion swirling inside you.

"Shut up." You said through gritted teeth. You couldn't look at Sam. You couldn't let yourself see his face. All you could do was wait for Dean and try and reach for your gun. Your hands slowly made their way up to your jeans, your eyes never leaving the monster.

"What are you going to do about-hey!" Fake you snapped. She quickly reached around you and yanked your gun out of your waistband. A small laugh left her mouth. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and shook her head in a tisk tisk tisk motion.

"Oh man, that would have sucked for me!" She threw the gun across the room. It landed with a metallic clang that made both you and Sam flinch.

"Now...let's have some fun, shall we!" She said, biting her bottom lip.

"I like being you...but...since we already saw his desire..." She trailed off, closing her eyes. Suddenly, Sam stood before you. He wore his suit, the black one that made your knees weak. The buttons on his shirt were undone down to his sternum, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He wore no undershirt giving you just a glimpse at his expansive chest. You heard a sharp pull of Sam's (the real one) breath into his lungs. Fake Sam took a step towards you, his fingertips tracing your arm.

"Don't you touch her!" Real Sam growled. His body yanked against the ropes so harshly that the chair scratched the floor.

"Do you know how bad he wants this?" Fake Sam asked you, his eyes scanning yours.

"He wishes for you in the night. He craves your touch. For just one moment of pure impulsivity, not thinking or caring about the consequences." Fake Sam's voice was low and heavy in his chest. You recoiled from his touch, closing your eyes and breathing. You could see why so many people had fallen for this. It would be so easy to give in. You didn't know what was real anymore. You wanted to believe so badly. Was this just a trick? Your mind was swimming with unanswered questions and confusion. You still couldn't make yourself look at the real Sam. You didn't know what you would do if this all were a lie. Did Sam really want you as badly as you wanted him?

A shot rang through the room. Your body curled into itself from the surprise. Fake Sam dropped to the ground before you, a hole in his chest right where his heart would be. You whipped your head around to see Dean, his gun still raised.

"Thank fuck, that's over. Am I right?" Dean said, taking out his pocket knife to cut Sam free from the ropes. Neither you nor Sam made a sound. Dean grabbed Sam by the shoulders, looking him over for injuries. Sam assured him he was fine. Dean then turned to you, his hands taking your face between them.

"You good, kid?" He asked. You could feel the silver ring on his finger against your skin, and you knew his touch had two purposes.

"Yeah, I'm good, Dean." You smiled at him.

"Good!" Dean said. He looked over at "Sam" on the ground. "Well, this should be an awkward drive back." Dean assessed, pressing his lips into a line.

He wasn't lying. Although the drive was only about five minutes, it felt like days. The clock never seemed to move, and you swore everyone could hear your pounding heart. You twisted your fingers in your lap, your eyes staring at the back of Sam's head. You needed to know. Your overactive mind couldn't handle leaving everything that happened in the past. You knew that you desired him—more than anything. Could he feel the same? Could it really be that simple?

Dean put the car in park, and you basically bolted from the car. You closed your door and lay against the wood. You took large breaths into your lungs. Licking your lips, you ran your fingers through your hair and began to pace.

A knock on your door made your world stop. You slowly opened the door, your eyes finding his hazel ones.

"I can't just leave this." He said quickly as if he didn't know what else to say.

"I can't either. Come in." You said, taking a step back.

"Sam...I-"

"Everything was true." Sam blurted out. "Well, at least from my end. Everything said was true. I can't stop thinking about you. You are the only thing I ever want. I wake up every day wondering how I can make you smile. I go to sleep every night counting the ways you stopped my heart. I am constantly fighting against myself, telling myself that it's too risky to care for you the way I do. It's too risky to give into my desires because if anything ever happened to you-." Sam stopped for a moment. His hands raked through his hair. He looked flushed. He grabbed your shoulders then, looking you directly in the eye. "Everything in me wants everything in you. The good. The bad. The bliss. The heartache. I can't keep pushing these feelings down. You are the light for me, Y/N. All I could ever need rests in you." Sam gently tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

You just stared at him, your mouth slightly agape. Your breathing became ragged, and you didn't know how your heart wasn't beating through your shirt; it was racing so fast. His hands slid up your shoulders to hold your face in his hands. His thumb stroked your cheek lovingly.

"Now would be a great time for you to say something." He whispered, a small smile on his perfect lips. You let out a breath and smiled, licking your lips.

"Sam, there are no words to describe how you make me feel. Everything said was true for me too. I do ache for you. I long for you. I cry for you almost every night. You invade every thought that I have. Waking or dreaming, it is only you that I see. I want everything with you, too, Sam. I can't deny it any longer. You're the one for me." You said, your hands wrapping around his waist to hold him close.

"We can have everything," Sam said. His face was coming closer to yours. "Except you don't have to cry for me." He whispered, his breath tickling your skin.

"Yes, I do." You said before Sam gently brushed his lips against yours, his mouth hesitant initially. You pushed up onto your tippy toes to deepen the kiss. His hands trailed down your body, caressing the skin under your shirt. You twisted your hands into his hair, feeling the strands between your fingers. It didn't take long for the kiss to become hungry and raw. Your mouth opened to his exploring tongue. Your breath mingled, the pool of desire in your core leaking throughout your body.

"Why did we wait so long?" Sam mumbled before lifting you off the ground easily, his body pinning yours against the wall. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Your nails dug into the fabric of his shirt, pulling and yanking until he took it off. Fingers traced the contours of his body. You committed every dip to memory. Every ridge. Every scar. Another letter in your story. His lips left yours, only to attach to your neck and chest. His nose moved the fabric of your flannel out of the way, so his mouth could taste more of you.

"I want you so bad." You whispered into his ear.

"Fuck, Y/N," Sam said before ripping your top from your body. He fell to his knees before you, placing you back onto your feet. His mouth was kissing and sucking your waist above your jeans. You pulled on his hair, letting him know you wanted more. His long fingers quickly undid the button on your pants, and before you knew what was happening, his tongue was closing around your covered core. You moaned at the heat from his mouth. You felt the pulse grow between your legs.

Sam gathered you into him again, his strong arms carrying you to the bed. He placed you under him, caging you in with his forearms. His hands lovingly pushed the hair away from your forehead.

"Promise me we will handle things together from now on." He said, his voice soft.

"I promise. It's you and me." You assured him, looking deeply into his hypnotizing eyes.

"You and me." He nodded in agreement.

You smiled before pulling his perfect mouth back onto yours. ----------------------- To the untrained eye, things looked the same-Dean driving. Sam hunched over a book in the passenger seat. And you, surrounded by snacks and books in the backseat. However, things could not be more different. You and Sam were an unstoppable force. Your love for one another changed your lives. You were his. Completely. He was yours. Totally. When he looked at you, you never felt more in control and vulnerable at the same time. He was there to catch you when your mind took you into the highest of unknowns. His strong yet gentle hands pulled you up from the pits of your darkest days. You showed him a forgiveness and understanding that he had never known. He was your always. You were his forever.

You leaned forward, placing your chin on the seat between the boys.

"Hey, Dean..." You started.

"Y/N...I swear to god..." Dean warned, his finger coming up and eyes closing in premature annoyance.

"I'm hungry." You said flatly.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Dean screamed. The car filled with the three of you yelling over one another.

The waning sunlight fell over the Impala as Dean pulled into a diner.

Tagging: @thinkinghardhardlythinking @watermelonlipstick @lacilou @kingofthetwats @bellabean5591 @coldgothapricotalmond @briskywalker @gia-25 @reconsidering-my-life-choices @paryl @cutesymrsinuyashagamer @katrynec @arctusluna @samfreakingwinchester @idreamofplaid @zeppette @katherine-ann1 @maliburenee @nancymcl @babymxxse

#Sam Winchester #Sammy Winchester #i love him #mutual pining #idiots in love #sam and dean #SPN #spn fic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #sam fanfiction #sam fanfic #sam fantasy

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