#Sam Winchester oneshot

[lostalioth]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐭

→ premise: you in those damn jeans, those stupid jeans that fit you just right. your hips, your waist, your thighs. and god your ass in those jeans nearly had sam drooling. it was shameful he knew it but he couldn’t help it, not when your ass looked so prefect.

→ pairing: sam winchester x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, anal, caught masturbating, switch!sam? [he’s dominating but also jsut whiny and desperate?], nicknames [angel, baby], no lube or prep really for the anal part [i lowkey didn’t wanna write it lmao], not proofread

→ a/n: kinktober 17

It was pathetic, he was pathetic he knew that and yet he just couldn't care at the moment nor help himself. You looked so good he swore it was driving him clinically insane. So good that it was making his genius brain malfunction, and his downstairs ‘brain’ run on overdrive. 

He couldn't focus, could barely understand a word the witnesses were saying, it was all going in one ear and out the other. His eyes were just glued on you, on your body, on those stupid perfectly fitting jeans you wore. He felt like a hormonal teenager again, getting all worked up over a dumb pair of tight jeans on a woman. It didn't help that Sam has already been nursing a small crush on you that he’s had sense him and his brother met you. 

He had to bail on you and dean in the middle of the interviews, giving the both of you some excuse about not feeling the best and that maybe he needed some extra rest. Though in truth his pants were just getting tighter by the minute and his head getting foggier. He somehow managed to walk himself back to the motel, the short walk doing not a damn thing to clear his head. You in those fucking jeans, those jeans that hug your thighs and your wasit just right, those stupidly tight jeans that made your ass look so fucking bitable it was making him lose his mind. 

Even though muffled by his t-shirt pulled up and tucked between his teeth all that filled the quiet dingy motel room were Sams whines they were so loud. He was a mess the second he unbuckled his belt and shoved his pants and boxers down his thighs. His large hand furiously stroking up and down his aching cock, pulling strangled whimpers and cries from his lips. His precum leaking out from his tip acting as lube for his hand to glide along his shaft faster, squeezing it hard as he goes. 

He was already so close, it only added to his feeling of being pathetic, he really was a horny teenager now, he couldn't even last that long with his fist around his cock and his head filled with thoughts of you. You on top of him riding him as he whines, you under him your limbs an entangled mess as you pant and moan into his mouth. Him with his head buried between your thighs, you on your knees for him with your mouth stuffed full of his cock, any and all different kinds of images of you all over him. “Need you s’bad, s‘fuckin’ bad holy shit….” He hissed through his teeth in a hushed tone as his head fell back in pleasure, cries of your name and whines about how good you looked fall from his mouth like a waterfall the closer he gets to the edge.

“Hey Sam? Honey? you doing okay?” Your voice shattered the daydream going on in his head that was just about to make him cum. In shock and embarrassment his hand stills, inadvertently edging himself. The nickname only makes his cock twitch more as a short whine comes out of his mouth in response. He was caught and it should be embarrassing, humiliating even, you caught him jerking off in the middle of the day. He should be feeling anything else but what he was right now, It shouldn’t excite him that you caught him. But he was too far gone into a desperate type of head space to care at the moment. 

“Oh shit!, i'm sorry i didn't mean to barge in i thought you’d be napping” you babble out, covering your face as heat spreads through your body as you turn around and move like you're about to leave. As you turn sam gets an even better almost 360º view of your body, how the jeans cling to your thighs, the waistband snug around your waist, the denim looks practically painted on your ass, they were so tight.

“Need it s’bad, please i need you s’bad yoou dont have to leave” he whines out, you had already caught him so any composure or decorum he had has been thrown out the window alongside reason. He could be completely ruining your friendship at this moment, you could be disgusted with him and reject him but he was taking that risk cause he was desperate. 

Your body as if moving on its own accord, revealing your own hidden desires turns back around to face Sam, slowly taking your hands away from your face. Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes scan over his body, his shirt tugged up and stuffed in his mouth exposing his chest, a small trail of hair leading down to where his hand is still wrapped tightly around his cock, a pleading look in his glazed over eyes. Slowly you make your way over to him spread out on the bed, your steps careful as if you were gonna spook him by moving too fast. “What- Uh- what do you need honey?” You question, still a bit confused and extremely nervous. You’d do anything to help Sam, and getting to see him like this all pathetic and desperate was a bonus that was making slick settle in your core and your thighs clench together. 

“I need you, want you s’bad” he whines out dropping his shirt from his mouth as he grabs ahold of your hand when you get close enough. Placing your hand on his stiff throbbing cock with his own, you let out a small gasp at the feeling of his warm cock under your touch. “This is what you do to me, you and ya’ fucking stupid tight jeans” he hissed out, letting go of your hand and taking note of the fact you dont move it off his cock he slaps your ass hard with his big hand resting and gropping at it after it comes down. 

“These damn jeans that make your ass look so good angel, so good that I couldn't focus, baby. Wanna fuck you s’bad, wanna fuck this ass” he was rambling now looking up at you with his signature puppy eyed look that made you melt. He was so hard it was getting painful, especially since he stopped himself right when he was gonna cum.

He's already thrown caution to the wind by this point, there was no going back.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You gave in. 

Willing to do whatever it took to make Sam feel better as well as the fact that all his begging had made you about just as desperate for him. He had you on his lap now, your back pressed against his bare chest. He was quick to strip you of all your clothes, eyes glued to the way he had to practically peel your jeans off your body. Your thighs were spread and laid over his legs that he had bent up, his feet planted flat on the bed. 

Your head was spinning from the feeling of his rough hands exploring every inch of your body. Palming at your tits and his thumb flicking your nipples, squeezing your waist when you squirm in his grasp and grind your ass against him. His lips were mouthing and kissing along your neck, tongue poking out to lick up the side and even behind your ear, sucking patches of small hickies onto the unmarked skin. Your body relaxed more and more in his arms as Sam said; “Need you real relaxed for this angel okay? As bad as i want this i don't wanna hurt ya’” you were certainly relaxed once his thumb started rubbing circles over your bundle of nerves, sighing in a mixture of pleasure and relief. You whine softly as your pussy aches, begging for release already as your folds are dripping in slick, a trail of it sliding down your cunt to your ass even. 

Lifting his hips his tip nudges at the tight ring of muscle of your ass, his precum that hasn't stopped leaking as well as his spit that coated his cock acted as your only form of lube as he bullies his thick cock inside. With a broken gasp in both pain and pleasure at the new sensation you dig your nails into the flesh of his forearm that was wrapped around your stomach holding you against him. “Sam~ Honey- Fuck!” You blabber out in a string of jumbled together moans, losing track of where you were gonna go with your sentence once his cock pushes all the way inside, your hole sucking his cock inside. 

“Atta’ girl, s’good f’me angel. God your ass is so fuckin’ tight” he cries out, he was already still on edge from just his fist but this feeling was gonna send him flying over it faster than he wanted. The pleasure of his cock filing your ass as well as his thumb which hasn't stopped playing with your clit has your pussy clenching around nothing. 

“Baby, m’not gonna last long, it's too much” you moan out as his hips buck up and thrust into you, settling at a fast and relentless pace not giving you any more time to get adjusted. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay, j’ cum, just cum for me angel” he nods his head frantically, moans and desperate cries fill the room and you don't know what sounds are coming from who as you clench down on him. 

Your body tensing up and your eyes screwing shut as your climax washes over you, a loud wanton moan falling out of your mouth. Worry about the other residents hearing anything long since past, Sam even felt a small ego boost knowing they were hearing you scream out his name. His hips not stopping their hard thrusting, Sam too lost in pleasure with his head buried in your neck as his cock pounds your ass making you see stars as you cum. 

“Feel so good angel, holy shit squeezin’ me even tighter as you cum shit~” he groans out, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine as his breath fans across your ear. Your cum leaks out of your pussy, sliding down to Sams cock giving it even more slick for him to fuck up into you harder and faster, chasing his own orgasm. 

“Gonna cum angel, but dont think im done with ya’ when i do, need to fuck that pretty pussy too. Been dreamin’ about that sense we met, need to make you all mine” he cries out as he turns your face towards his and crashes his lips against yours, kissing you like a man starved. His moans are muffled into the kiss as well as more whines of your name as he cums hard.

→ a/n: AHHHH last day of kinktober is tomorrow!! Im hoping i get to post the last day on halloween but i might not so if i dont expect it nov

[ohsc]

₊˚⊹♡ mean | sam winchester x reader

requested - heyy could u make a sam x reader thing where he fucks rlly roughly but he’s really sweet during aftercare bc the idea that sam is rough during but sweet after makes me weak in the knees🫠🙏 (anon)

a/n - this is. probably the most filthy thing i’ve written. it’s just filthy smut. with a hint of sweetheart sam at the end. i need him so bad it’s not funny. still working on my longer plot fics but i wanted to get this out today to get back into writing!! hopefully you enjoy :) would very much appreciate feedback! <3

cws - fem!reader, 2.4k, nsfw 18+, meandom!sam turned soft!sam, oral f!recieving, praise, very mild choking, condescending words, p in v, mild overstimulation, tears, aftercare, fluff

other fics can be found on my masterlist

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

She was convinced that Sam’s mouth was a whole new kind of heaven.

He’d already made her cum once with his mouth alone, large hands pressed into the plush of her thighs to keep them spread, her hips stilled, which were twitching with every sweep of his tongue. He was skilled, drawing the pleasure out of her like it was nothing. Sam had easily spent fifteen minutes down there, eating her out like a starved man, like it was all he wanted.

And she didn’t know how she was still breathing. There was a relief that ran through her that Dean and Castiel weren’t in the bunker that night, because even though they were shut away in the privacy of their room, she was sure that she would’ve been heard. Sam had been pulling noises out of her all night, obscene lewd sounds that she would’ve been embarrassed about being heard if it wasn’t Sam with her.

He always made sure that as much as he made her feel, none of it was embarrassment.

His tongue flattened against her, licking a stripe up between her folds until he pressed against her clit and she shuddered, a horribly whiny sound pushed from her lungs when he closed his lips around the bead and sucked, like he was trying to pull the life out of her. Her hips jolted, unable to go anywhere as he had her pinned down, and she was practically seeing stars as Sam worked down there. She wondered if he was even breathing.

“Sam- oh my god—” She whimpered, hissed in a breath when he licked back down to her entrance and his nose nudged against her clit, stomach clenching as she reached her hands down to grasp onto his hair, fingers curled into the soft strands.

And then he pulled away.

His hands left her thighs as his mouth left her, but she didn’t have time to whine her complaints at the loss of sensation as his long fingers curled around her wrists, yanked her hands out of his hair. “What did I say, huh?” The tone of voice made her pussy clench around nothing. “Hands to yourself. You’re pretty bad at listening, baby.”

Sam shifted over her, his face over hers as he pushed her wrists down onto the pillows above her head, and she almost squirmed when she saw the look in his eyes, the way his lips were wet with her.

“Are you listening?” He squeezed her wrists as a reminder, and her eyes quickly flickered back up to his eyes. “Do I need to tie you up, or will you keep these here for me?” She knew he wouldn’t hesitate to do it. Sam could be such a soft lover — he’d kiss every inch of her skin, whisper praises and compliments, tell her he loved her a thousand times as he made love to her. But he could also be like this, mean and demanding as he fucked her silly over and over. She wasn’t sure which she liked more.

“I’ll keep them there.” She breathed out, her voice still a little too whiny. He’d gotten her so close to cumming again, the lack of stimulation was driving her crazy, her cunt throbbed as she stared up at him.

“Oh yeah?” Sam narrowed his eyes like he didn’t believe her, and let go of one of her wrists to take both into one of his large hands. Her eyes left his face to follow his second as it dipped down between them, fingering at the waistband of his boxers, until she heard a sharp, “eyes on me.”

Her gaze quickly flickered back up to his face. “See? You can be good sometimes, can’t you?” Sam cooed, boardering on condescending, as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her mouth, allowing her to taste herself. “You just need some reminding, don’t you, sweetheart? Get so lost in that pretty little head of yours when I’m making you feel so good.”

She’d been so distracted by watching his face, head spinning with his words, that she didn’t realise that he’d freed himself from his boxers until she felt the head of his cock nudging between her folds, gliding easily against her with the slick and spit collected there, and she mewled at the feeling, eyes squeezed shut as he nudged at her clit.

“Eyes open,” his hands left her wrists — which she knew now to keep still — and his fingers splayed across her jaw, squeezing unkindly until she looked up again. “Don’t make me tell you again. You wanna be good for me, don’t you?”

She nodded dumbly, sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth as he rubbed her clit with his cock. Teasing her. “Mhm, I will.”

“You will?” Sam gave her jaw one more squeeze, just for good measure, before he wrapped his fingers around the bare skin of her throat. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t put any pressure, just held her, but the threat was there. The head of his cock rested up against her slickened entrance as his head dipped down, lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “what’s your colour?”

They had a pretty rigid safe word system set out ��� it was something he went over with her every time they had sex, especially like this, when he was mean and grabby and knew that she wouldn’t like it every time. If she so much whispered the word red he’d be up and off of her before she could blink.

But all that left her words was a whiny, “Green, please Sammy.”

She felt his lips curve up against her ear as he smirked. “Good girl.”

Without warning he pushed into her and she sucked in a sharp breath, her own fingers grabbed at each other in an attempt to keep her hands still, and she shoved a breath out of her throat. He’d worked her open with his fingers when he’d been settled down between her legs, but she still felt the stretch, the burn as he settled his cock deep inside of her, and for a moment she had to remember to breathe back in.

“Fuck honey,” he grunted in her ear, fingers gripped her throat just slightly tighter, still only enough for her to feel pressure. “So tight for me, baby. Can barely take it, huh?”

He pulled back before he rutted back inside and she whimpered, squeezing her own fingers together so tightly so she didn’t break his rule. Needing to hold onto him somehow, though, her thighs clamped harshly around his hips, already trembly from the first orgasm he’d pulled from her.

He thrust in again, and again, and again, and soon she saw stars, gasping and whimpering with every drag of his cock against her gummy walls, pleasure rippling through her in waves that made her stomach clench, her cunt clamped down so tightly around him it was a wonder he could move at all.

“So noisy baby,” he crooned on a particular harsh thrust that made her whine, fingers a little tighter around her throat. “Can’t help yourself, can you?” He huffed with another thrust. “Need me to do all the work, hm? Greedy—” he grunted, “greedy girl.”

It took an embarrassingly short time for her to get close again. Sam was fucking her with determination, grunted every time he pushed himself back in, the head of his cock nudged the soft spongey spot inside of her that made her shudder again and again and again until she was a mess beneath him, lewd wet sounds accompanying her whimpers with each shift of his hips, her pussy fluttering around the stretch of his girth.

He didn’t slow down, didn’t ease up, didn’t give her a breather. She was close to tears by the time she was almost there, already sensitive from her first orgasm.

She clenched around him and his fingers, in turn, tightened on the sides of her throat. She trusted him, she knew he wouldn’t push it too far. Just enough for her to feel a little dizzy, for the bliss to wash over her like a high.

“Sam- mm- Sammy—” She was practically blabbering as her eyes filled with tears, gasping with each thrust, each smack of his hips against hers.

“Oh honey,” he cooed, condescending, mean. “Too much, hm? Need something?”

His hand loosened on her throat and she inhaled a little shakily.

“Please—” she whined, blinking through tears up at him. She didn’t miss the flicker in his eyes as the tears dribbled down her cheeks, but she knew that he knew she’d tell him if it was too much. It had happened before, neither of them messed around when it came to their safe words.

“Please what, huh?” He thrust in harshly and she groaned, cunt fluttering, so close— “Ah-ah, not yet. Don’t you need to ask me something, dolly?” He squeezed her throat once. “You remember what happens if you cum without asking, don’t you?”

Of course she did. The week prior she’d cum too soon, and he spent the next what felt like hours edging her, too skilled with his fingers, words too filthy that they made her head spin. He’d made such a mess of her that she hadn’t been able to even get up off of the bed for a little while after he finally let her cum.

“Mhm, mm, yeah—” she inhaled shakily, whining, thighs clamped tighter around his hips. “Please- please can I- please let me—” she groaned.

“Let you what?” He was dragging it out, the fucker, grunting into her ear as he leaned down over her, pushed his cock so deep her vision almost whitened out. “Tell me, honey. Use those words for me, c’mon.”

The tears were bubbling over faster, rolling down her flushed cheeks. “Let me cum, baby, please.”

“Asking so nicely,” he grunted, pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “How can I say no to something so pretty, hm? ‘Course you can, baby, go ahead.”

It wasn’t his words that did it for her, but the hand that snuck between them and pressed down on her stomach, the press of his cock suddenly so much more delicious that she almost fucking fainted.

She came with a breathless whine, hips jerked as she finally gasped a breath and whined again, her cunt throbbed around his cock as he kept pumping, rode her through it entirely. Her head tipped back, his mouth on her neck as her eyes squeezed shut, colours danced on the inside of her eyelids, her own little fireworks display.

Sam came shortly after, groaned into her ear in a way that almost made her cum again, and he rutted into her a few more times before he stopped, warmth spreading through her as he panted against her shoulder.

“Fuck,” he huffed, his own chest heaved, brushing against her bare skin. “Oh sweetheart.” The shift in his demeanour was palpable, soft kisses immediately littered across her shoulder and collarbone, palms flattened to smooth over her sweat-dampened skin. He could be so mean in the moment, so dominating and controlling that he left her a fucking mess underneath him, but afterwards? He’d probably feed her grapes and fan her if she asked him to.

She was still gasping for breath, head spinning, and when she knew she wouldn’t be told off for it her hands lifted, immediately clung to his warm shoulders. She loved the way his shoulders felt underneath her touch, muscles rippling with every movement.

Sam kissed up her throat and jaw before he landed on her mouth, and he kissed her slowly, huffed breaths into each other's mouths as he licked between her lips, sweeped behind her top teeth, their lips both wet with spit.

By the time he had pulled away, he’d so thoroughly kissed her that she almost had her breath back.

“You okay?” His voice was so soft it was like there was an entirely different person on top of her compared to five minutes prior. His hand left her throat, smoothed upwards and cupped her jaw. She felt him thumb away tears that had fallen, some clung to her eyelashes, somewhat cool against her hot and flushed skin.

She nodded as she stroked her fingertips along his shoulders with her fingertips, like she’d committed him to memory. She had.

“Hey,” he lightly tapped her cheekbone with his thumb. “Need words, honey.”

She couldn’t help her smile. He was so caring she sometimes wanted to cry. “M’okay,” she whispered, voice soft like she’d shared a secret. “Really good. You’re so good, Sammy.” She praised, tilted her head to kiss his wrist, and he smiled and blushed like he hadn’t just been the one to fuck the life out of her.

“Says you,” Sam leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re perfect. Love you,” another kiss. “Love you so much.”

She smiled so much her cheeks hurt. “Love you too.”

Sam smiled too, that soft smile that made his dimples peek out, eyes crinkled at the corners, and he stroked her cheekbone again. “M’gonna pull out, okay?”

Only when she nodded did he shift, slowly pulled his hips back until she was empty, until all she could feel was the wetness coated between her thighs.

“Christ, made a mess of you,” he murmured, not in the condescending tone from before, instead something closer to admiration. “You’re so pretty when you cum, y’know that?”

She blushed, hard, and shrugged as her cheek dipped to meet her shoulder.

Sam laughed, rolled his eyes as he leaned in and kissed her again. “Don’t get all shy on me now.”

She was still blushing when he helped her sit up, fingers delicately curled around her elbows to pull her upright, her back also damp with sweat. They’d need to change the sheets.

“Two options,” Sam murmured as he gently stroked hair away that was stuck to her forehead, baby hairs that clung to her temples. “We take a shower and let me wash your hair and then go get food, or you let me run you a bath and you wait there looking all pretty for me while I get you something we can eat in there so I can dote on you.”

“You just wanna wash my hair huh?”

Sam smiled. “Guilty.”

Her fingers found his, intertwined with a squeeze. “Bath sounds nice,” she eventually settled on. “As long as you don’t take too long in the kitchen. I’ll miss you.”

He was laughing when he pressed another kiss to her mouth. “Of course. Promise to not take too long, okay?”

She giggled and nodded, smiled against his mouth when he kissed her again. “Okay.”

[prentissluvr]

three seconds — sam winchester

for : 200+ followers event [ closed ] ➖⟢ pairing : sam winchester x gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : fluff ➖⟢ cw : light swearing, accidental cuddling, casual mention of marriage between sam and reader (it's just dean teasing tho lol), idiots friends to lovers, kissing, barely edited ➖⟢ wc : 1.2K prompt : sleeping in the same bed, as they’d often do, but one morning waking up cuddling

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

to be truthful, this isn’t the first time you’ve woken up with yours and sam’s limbs entangled with each other’s. it’s just far less common for his hand to be so gloriously attached to your waist or his face to be tucked all sweet and warm into your neck. your own hands are placed in his hair and on his broad shoulder blade.

waking up like this is heaven; first, in the moments before you can process exactly what is happening, and second, once you realize and can bask in the splendor of having him so intimately close and vulnerable with you. then it comes crashing down as you remember that this isn’t quite how it’s supposed to be, and that you’ll never, not for a moment, be able to get this feeling out of your head, your body.

which means every moment after you untangle yourself from him will be full of a pure, undying, taunting want, maybe even need, to have him like that again. such a feeling is a general inconvenience as one considers that sam is your best friend, that he and his brother are just about all you have, and that you’d rather die than lose them to the fact that you’re in love with him. so clearly, it’s better he never knows, it’s just that constantly thinking about cuddling with him tends to lead to you making heart eyes at him or your cheeks flushing hot when he looks at you a moment too long.

then there’s the realization that sam is still asleep, the steady rhythm of his breath tickling your neck is both comforting and terrifying all at once. what if he wakes and jerks away, uncomfortable with your proximity? should you push him away before he even realizes the position you’re in? it’s not as if sam doesn’t enjoy physical affection; he pretends he doesn’t, but you’re convinced that he’s a cuddlebug at heart. maybe that’s an overly cute way of putting it, but you can feel how much he loves hugs, how much he enjoys having his head in your lap when you get a rare movie night. you’re just worried that this is too much, too close for even him.

and yet, you’re feeling selfish, because what if you never get him like this again? so you close your eyes again and just revel in the way it feels to have the tip of his nose pressed to your neck and his forehead against your jaw. his hands on you, so steady and sure in his sleep. his hair, soft between your fingers and the muscle of his back under your palm. his leg, tucked between yours. just the weight of him, pressed against you all solid and real and almost immovable until he wakes.

you hear dean stir a few feet away and you pray he won’t be able to tell you’re not asleep. breath even and eyes still gently closed, you hear dean move about, mumbling to himself. he’s digging around in a bag, pulling something out. then you feel him move closer and you swear he’s hovering at the foot of the bed.

then you hear a click, like that of a camera shutter, and you realize dean’s taken a picture of the two of you like this. pictures of the three of you are rarer, and dean being the one to take it means it’s special. you suppose blackmail is special in its own way and beg to no one that dean didn’t hear your breath hitch as you realize this moment is now immortalized by a picture that dean’ll print out someday and shove in your faces to make fun.

then dean’s mumbling to himself again, now close and loud enough for you to make out his words. “these two,” he sighs, tone practically chastising as if he sees something glaringly obvious, but the both of you can’t seem to quite get there. “i swear, the heart eyes from across the room, the longing gazes. god, they’ll be the death of me.” 

he really, truly thinks you’re asleep. he talks like this when he doesn’t know you can hear him. though usually not about you and sam, not like this. “they’re both such idiots. idiots in love,” he laughs humorlessly to himself, then turns away, stuffing the camera back in the bag he dug it out from. “maybe i should lock them in a closet,” he considers, voice so low you can barely catch his words, “see who caves first. then they’ll probably only thank me for that or the puke-inducingly cute photo once they’re married, those ungrateful asses. kids these days.” he lets out a huff of breath as he heads to the bathroom, seemingly done with his ranting about … about what? you and sam being in love with each other? what the hell was he saying, married? you and sam? you have to hold back from letting out a lovesick sigh.

you’re so caught up turning dean’s words over in your mind that only sam’s hand lightly squeezing your side brings you back to the present. your eyes shoot open and you pull your hand out of his hair. sam parts from you, barely. how long has he been awake? you’re almost too scared to look at sam, who hasn’t even attempted to untangle himself from you. he’s still got his hand on your waist and his leg tucked between yours and your eyes catch his without you meaning to. it’s always like that; your eyes will wander until they find his face, every time. it’s habit, instinct, unavoidable.

he looks at you long, and something about his pretty eyes turned green from the morning light and the color of the sheets keeps you holding his gaze, taking him in as he does you.

when sam finally speaks, his voice is hushed, but there’s this barely contained joy to it, begging to be released. “think we should save him the trouble?” the playfulness in his voice tugs at the corner of your lips. when he sounds happy, you can’t help but feel that way.

“of?” you ask, thinking you know what he means, but wanting to be sure.

“of locking us in a closet. sounds like a bit of a hassle, if you ask me,” he smiles at you, and his words plus the sight of his dimples has got you grinning without restraint. you wonder again how long sam was awake, but completely without apprehension this time. all the two of you needed was a few playful words exchanged, and now you know. though you wouldn’t have without dean’s unwittingly overheard grumbles, so you supposed you will have to thank him after all.

“i don’t know,” you say with a false air of careful thinking, “seems like it could be fun, y’know? it’s been too long since we’ve played a good trick on dean, don’t you think?”

sam doesn’t have an answer for that because he’s been too busy staring at the way your lips move, still pulled into a smile as you talk. you take another good look at him and wonder, how in the world did i miss it? the way he looks at me?

if he doesn’t kiss you within three seconds flat, you’ll do it yourself. it takes him those three seconds exactly, and you move in such synch it’s possible that your lips meet right in the perfect middle of the barely-there space between you.

[sammyluvr]

✶ in the morning — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, mentioned alcohol use (sam's drunk), unedited, 959 words. requested ! for my 900 followers event [ closed ] .

prompt : a motel bathroom + “shhh!” “i’m trying to confess my love to you!”

sam’s tall, lanky body won’t cooperate with your gentle hands. you have to squeeze his elbows hard to keep him upright; he’s very drunk. his breath is sharp and unpleasant from all the alcohol, but his lips look soft. they feel soft when his face falls into the crook of your neck and all he does is nuzzle closer. when he mumbles something unintelligible, it feels like a kiss of sorts on your burning skin.

he’s only warmer than you are because he’s drunk. sam runs warm usually anyway, but his incessant closeness has your blood rushing under your skin and making it hot. 

his breath smells like something stronger than beer, which is unusual for him. maybe he felt adventurous tonight, or maybe something’s on his mind that he foolishly decided to address with whiskey.

this motel’s bathroom is tiny, even smaller than most, which is saying something. but sam has somehow gotten his hands sticky with god knows what and it’s really bothering him. it’s bothering you too, frankly, but you’ve said nothing but, “it’s okay. it’s okay, sam,” in a saccharine sweet voice when he apologizes for getting whatever it is on your clothes. as if they aren’t stained with blood half the time.

so now you’ve got him hunched over the bathroom sink, forced right up against his side in order to keep from stumbling into the shower. at least your presence keeps him steadier than he might be on his own.

“oh, my god,” he mumbles as you push his hands back under the water when he forgets to use soap. “i need you,” he says through a huff of breath and you nearly do fall into the shower. you hand him the little bar of soap because he’s just saying that he wouldn’t be able to get this done without you in his drunken state. his big hands fumble with it and he forgets to focus on that because he’s trying to look at you instead. the bar slips comically out of his hands and nearly onto the floor. it falls into the basin of the sink, though, and he can’t seem to grasp it with his clumsy fingers.

you pick it back up for him and he leans into you. the both of you would have tumbled over if you didn’t plant a firm hand on the small of his back and push him back to lean on the sink instead.

“you look very pretty,” he tells you, words quite slurred but unmistakable. you’re not sure you can do this right now.

“finish washing your hands,” you manage to say. it’s not easy to say anything at all, not with your hand still on his back and his shoulder pressed right into you. he does as you ask, but not before looking at you with all the fondness in the world.

“okay,” he mumbles. and when he’s done, he clumsily turns to face you, putting you chest to chest with him. your breath hitches and his hands land on your hips. he holds you loosely but happily, a sweet and loopy smile on his lips.

“oh– gosh, sam–,” you choke out in surprise. you can’t help the grin that breaks across your features. “d-dry your hands!” you chide him, giving a strangled laugh at his forgetfulness. the water on his hands soaks through the fabric of your pants and shirt where they hold you.

“shit, sorry,” he slurs, pulling his hands away, and you laugh again. you reach for the towel yourself before thinking about it and end up with your front slotted right against his. you jerk back with the hand towel and grab one of his hands, drying it for him, then the other.

he watches with uncontained endearment and adoration and you swear that you can physically feel it. “won’t you look at me?”

your eyes flick up from his hands before you can stop yourself. he pouts, but seems to be holding back a smile.

“i gotta tell you something,” he murmurs, holding your hands through the towel with purpose now.

you panic a bit. you don’t want him to tell you while he’s shit-faced, you want him to remember it and mean it. as much as you want him to say what you think he’s going to, you’re not sure you can truly trust a drunken confession. so you do the first thing you can think of to get him to stop and quickly hush him. “shhh! n-no! not… not right now. you should sober up, go to bed,” you rush to say.

his face falls and he takes it the wrong way. “i… i’m trying to confess my love to you,” he whispers, looking dejected.

“oh, sam,” you sigh, softening immediately despite the way your heart leaps from your chest, “i– i know, that’s not what i– i just wanted you to be sober, i didn’t mean to–” you reach for the right words blindly, unsure how to comfort his drunken self while also steering this conversation the right way. he’ll be upset if he doesn’t remember this in the morning.

you let the towel slip away to the floor and hold his hands without anything in the way. air fills your lungs as you miraculously compose yourself. you let it out. “i know,” you murmur, “and that would make me very happy, but you’re very drunk right now. would you be willing to tell me in the morning? is that alright with you? because that would make me even happier.”

he slumps forward and suddenly his lips are planted on your cheek in a clumsy, sincere kiss. your composure shatters. “alright,” he whispers, his lips falling to your ear. “i’ll tell you in the morning.”

[starrylanex]

shower power — sam winchester

kinktober day 1, summary - after a long hunt, sam pulls you into the shower at a shared motel room, where dean could walk in. his large hands grip your hair as he takes you against the shower wall, making you keep quiet. warnings - no use of y!n, lower case intended. word count - 1,5k. take me back to main kinktober masterlist;

hiii angels, i feel like this sucks because i rushed it:((((

——

the door of the motel room shut behind you with a thud, the click of the lock barely audible over the pounding of your heart. all three if you had been through hell tonight—blood, sweat, and tension thick in the air—but even after the hunt, something more primal lingered between you. it had been building for days. maybe weeks.

dean's voice drifted behind you to the other side of the room, muttering something about the bed and the tv, but you couldn't focus. you needed a shower, something to wash away the grime—and the tension that coiled tightly in your chest.

without a word, you made your way to the bathroom. the door creaked open, and you barely had a chance to turn on the water when you felt sam's presence behind you. before you could say anything, he locked the bathroom door behind him and his large hand gripped your arm, pulling you back into the small space with him.

"sam," you whispered, barely able to get his name out before he backed you against the tiled wall in the shower, the cold seeping through your clothes as his lips crashed down on yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

"shh," he murmured against your lips, his voice a low, gravelly warning. "dean's right outside." his hand slid up to your jaw, his thumb pressed against your cheek and the rest of his fingers spread to where your head met the neck, not squeezing, but holding you in place as his lips moved to your ear, teeth grazing your skin. "you're gonna have to be quiet."

your breath hitched as his words sent a thrill through you. you were planning on taking care of yourself in the shower, not wanting to disturb sam, but apparently he had the same idea, as his other hand was already working on your clothes, rough and fast, tugging them away as if they were in his way—because they were. and the moment the both of you undressed each other, throwing shirts and pants away, the shower sputtered to life, the perfect temperature water hitting your skin, already forgotten in the heat of the moment.

sam pressed you harder against the wall, his broad frame caging you in. his hands found their way back to the both sides of your face, cradling you. you bit down on your bottom lip to keep from making a sound, but when one of his hand slipped between your legs, and teased your already wet and sensitive lips, a gasp escaped your throat.

"quiet," he growled, his voice thick with desire as his long middle finger moved, sliding up and down on you, his other hand still gripping your jaw, tilting your head back. his lips found your throat, sucking and biting hard enough to leave marks that would last for days. "or he'll hear everything."

you whimpered, trying to stay as quiet as you could, nodding as his hand left your jaw and grabbed your leg, pulling it around his waist. the pressure of his body against yours had you already seeing stars, the friction of his long finger making it nearly impossible to stay silent. every stroke, every touch from him sent fire through your veins, even when he still hadn't entered you properly.

"sammy please," you whisper, bringing your hands and gripping his shoulders, head tilted back and eyes closed in pleasure.

sam hums, "please what, sweetheart," he murmurs against your neck close to your ear, his fingers gripped your hip so tight you were sure there'd be bruises tomorrow, but you didn't care. all you could think about was how badly you needed him. the water from the shower sprayed around you both, the heat adding to the intensity of the moment, but it did nothing to cool the burning inside you.

"i need you inside of me, please, sammy, please" you whimper, pleasure given just from his finger slowly building up.

sam's lips were on you again, his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip before his teeth grazed it. "you like this, don't you?" he whispered, his breath ragged. "the thought of dean being able to hear, the risk of us being caught." his hand tightened on your jaw, not enough to hurt you, but enough to manhandle you, pulling your head back to look into his eyes. "you love it."

you could only nod, your throat too tight with need to speak. your body ached for him, every touch sending you spiraling, but his control over you, the way he made you desperate and yet forced you to stay quiet, only made the moment more intense. water poured over the two of you, slowly washing away the dirt.

"alright then," he murmured, "let me take care of you sweetheart." he said and with swift movements he picked you up wrapping your legs around his waist, you whined as you felt his finger disappear from your cunt, but let out a gasp as soon as you felt him align his already pulsing cock against your entrance. you wanted to moan, to plead him to do it faster but you knew if you did dean would hear, so you stayed quiet, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck.

he then kissed you, like a man starving, nothing about this kiss was soft, teeth clashing and pulling, without a warning sam thrust into you, hard and full as he bottomed out, your gasp and his groan being swallowed by each others mouths. you couldn't hold on to him like this anymore so you brought your left hand to rest on the wall nearest you, which happened to be the glass.

sam did not waist any more second. his forehead pressed to yours, his jaw clenched as he fought for control. his thrusts were slow, deliberate at first, drawing out every sensation, every wave of pleasure. you could feel his breath on your lips, heavy and ragged, as he fought to keep himself quiet, too. you bit down on his shoulder to muffle the sound that threatened to escape as he picked up his pace, your nails digging into his back. each movement was rougher, more intense, his control unraveling with every second.

the tension in the room was heavy enough that you could cut it with a knife, the sound of water hitting the tile barely enough to drown out your heavy breaths, as sam continued to thrust into you, the eye contact with him was intensifying the aura around. you were both teetering on the edge, desperately trying to stay silent, but it was impossible to contain the raw energy that was about to break between you.

you cant contain your moan as he shifts and now hitting your gspot repeatedly, all you could thing about was him, sam, sam, sam, sam, sam as the pleasure built up.

"fuck," sam grunted, his head dropping to your shoulder, teeth grazing your skin. his hand snaked up to cover your mouth, his lips pressing to your ear. "i said... keep quiet."

you nodded, not being able to say anything e,se as your mouth hang open behind his hand but no sound came out, eyes rolling back as he thrust harder, his pace relentless now. the pressure built inside you, and built and built and built, your whole body tightening, but the intensity, the risk, the sheer need that filled the room—it was too much. you could barely hold back the sounds threatening to break free.

sam's grip on you tightened as he growled low in your ear, he could feel you clenching around him, he knew you were close and fuck if you kept clenching around him like that he was sure he would cum right at that moment as his movements becoming erratic, more urgent. and then, you vision blurred, your body shaking with the force of your release as he buried himself deeper into you. the sound of your muffled moan against his hand only spurred him on, his own release crashing through him moments later and right in you. his body trembled against yours, his grip finally loosening as you both came down from the high, the water still pouring over you both.

for a moment, you stayed like that—breathless, tangled together, hearts racing.

then, with a smirk, sam pulled away, his hand still resting on your hip as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

"next time," he whispered, voice hoarse, "we'll get our own room."

you couldn't help but laugh softly, even as you struggled to catch your breath. the sound of dean grumbling from the other room filtered through the door, and you knew he probably heard more than he let on.

but right now, you didn't care. all you could think about was sam—his touch, his intensity—and the way you knew you were already waiting for the next one.

[ultravi0lence14]

Everything Has Changed

sam winchester x fem!reader

5.1k | fluff

summary: the love story between you and sam winchester, starting only at the age of six.

*buckle in everyone, this is the longest fic i’ve ever written

age six:

you didn’t want to be here. you wanted to be back home in massachusetts, sitting on the living room couch and watching morning cartoons with your mother.

but that would never happen again, not after what happened last week. not after that evil man with black eyes broke into your home and killed your mom while you hid in your bedroom closest, hearing everything while silent tears rolled down your cheeks.

now your father had taken you to south dakota, rambling on and on about the nice old man named bobby who would be watching you for a while. you didn’t want to stay with bobby. you wanted your mom, and your dad hauling every one of your belongings and shipping you off to another state was not helping your six year old brain cope with the pain.

looking out the window as your dad drove up a long driveway, the only thing you could see for miles was cars; junk cars to be exact. when the car finally rumbled to a stop, the home in front of it was anything but the one you had grown accustomed to.

your hand was clutched tight in your fathers as he rang the door bell. the disney princess suitcase by your feet was the only thing you could look at as the door swung open and your dad conversed with who you assumed was bobby. the older man seemed nice enough. his accent sounded funny, and the bowl of ice cream that greeted you when you walked in the kitchen had you enjoying this house even more.

when your dad kissed your head and told you he’d be gone for a few days, you didn’t know what to think. you were so young that the notion of your dad going out and hunting the demon that killed your mom was completely out of your headspace. you just thought he had obligations with work and was needed away for a couple of weeks.

those couple of weeks turned into two months. soon those two months turned into six. it dawned on you at such a young age that your father was probably not coming back, that both of your parents left you in the span of a week and you were stuck with a total stranger.

it was an awful thing for a mere kindergartener to comprehend, and it absolutely pained bobby to watch that realization slowly slip into your face day by day as you sat on the porch, awaiting for your dads non existing arrival.

when the seventh month mark had hit, the rumble of a car was heard from the front of the house. an excited smile lit up your face. your dad was finally back. after so long he was here to come get you and take you to wherever he has been for all these months.

the shear disappointment on your face when you realized it wasn’t your dad was palpable. but the confusion that followed it when a strange man and two young boys came into view was even stronger.

the taller of the two children looked to be a couple years older than you; maybe ten or something around there. his face was stoic and the way his steely gaze swept over you— clutched to bobby’s side, was something that made you nervous.

when you looked over to what you’d assumed was his younger brother, you were instantly drawn in to how this boy was a complete 180 from his brother. he seemed more timid, shy in how he walked with his head down and lip drawn between his teeth, gnawing at the skin as he looked up to switch his gaze from bobby, to you.

for as long as he could, sam would go on and on about how he fell in love with you from the very first time he saw you. that breezy day in late ‘89 was the start of his never ending admiration and love for the girl who he’d met on bobby’s porch at the young age of six.

that day was the start of a whole new beginning. who knew what would’ve happened if john winchester didn’t drop off his two sons that day. no one could guess if you and sam would somehow find a way to each other. but the universe sure forced you together at a young age, and you would be forever greatful for that.

age nine:

the wind blew back your hair, rustling the trees in the tree line as you and sam sat on the grass, silently reading.

it had been three years since your dad left you at bobby’s, and after about a year, you’d realized that he wasn’t coming back. it was hard at first, the tears didn’t stop coming for at least a week after the realization set in. but you had bobby, who’d stepped up and been more of a father than your own ever could’ve.

there was also the factor of sam and dean winchester, but they were a little more complicated than your father/daughter relationship with bobby.

dean winchester was like an older brother to you. someone who annoyed you like hell but would always be there to protect you when needed. he cared about the people he loved more than he could breathe, and you were grateful to have someone who would always be there for you.

sam, he was a little different then his brother. while dean was four years older, you two were the same age. you always felt a different bond with sam, something that was less brotherly and more shy smiles and rosy cheeks.

you’d harboured a crush on the youngest winchester boy, you just didn’t know what to do with it.

that crush didn’t blow away with the wind, it stayed while you sat side by side with sam, knees brushing as you both turned the pages of your corresponding books.

you didn’t know what to do. hell you were only a kid, merely in the fourth grade and not even double digits yet. the relationship you shared with sam was too precious to you for it to just be ruined by your stupid blabbing mouth. so you kept quiet, simply enjoying the time you spent with sam as friends and hoping that someday this crush would go away.

“have you ever wondered what it’s like to be an adult?” sam’s question startled you from your reading, the silence between you two going on for so long that his voice was quite jarring.

softly closing your back and moving over to face sam, you looked up at the blowing leaves on the trees, truly pondering your friends question. “i don’t know.” you responded after a long while, looking back down at sam and his expectant eyes. “i’d like to think that being an adult would be better, but then i think of my dad, and your dad even, and i wonder if being a kid forever would be so bad.”

you were young, but you weren’t stupid. you saw how aggressive sam and dean’s father was, you saw all the arguments him and bobby had about adult stuff you couldn’t understand. though, most definitely you understood the cowardly actions of your dad running away, leaving his adult duties of being a dad and dumping his own child with another. you vowed to never be like him, to never leave the people you love behind.

it seemed as though sam was truly thinking about your words, really diving deep into what you meant and if his ideologies aligned with yours.

fiddling with his fingers, sam looked down at his lap, biting his lip as he always did when he was nervous. “well i’m just wondering because dean told me he had his first kiss, and when i asked him when it was my turn, he said when i was older. how old do we have to be to have our first kiss Y/N?”

sam’s question caught you by surprise. you never really thought about the notions of a first kiss. sure you’ve thought of kissing sam before, but that was just the crush talking. it would never happen, and sam just asked from a place of curiosity and wonder, not because he wanted to kiss you.

“maybe junior high? i’m really not sure.” your head had been down while speaking, picking shreds of grass as you responded to sam. though, when you looked up, you were met with the feeling of sam’s lips on yours, and your whole world completely stopped.

it wasn’t a long kiss, just a second long peck. but even then, the feeling of sam gently and nervously pressing his lips to yours had blood rushing to your cheeks and a weird fluttery feeling in your gut.

you hadn’t spoken yet, and the mixed in with the wide eyed expression on your face started to make sam worry. “oh god, i’m so sorry Y/N. i should’ve asked if that was okay first. i’m a gentleman i swear! dad and dean taught me better. please don’t be mad at me, please.” sam’s ramblings had a quick smile spreading on your face.

even after something so innocent as a quick, childlike kiss on the lips, sam still worried for your well being, for how you felt in all of it. his strong need to always make sure you were okay made you feel so comfortable with him. even though you were so young, you remembered feeling happy and content about that moment many years later.

sam winchester innocently stole your first kiss, and you wouldn’t change any of it for the world.

age thirteen:

middle school sucked, and you were fully prepared to beg bobby to let you be homeschooled if it continued to be like this.

the people in your school weren’t nice at all. making jokes about how you lived on the town dump and how your father was a drunk weirdo. though, when stupid clara riggs found out bobby wasn’t even your dad, she made it her mission to go around and tell everyone that your own parents hated you so much, they left you on the doorstep of the first ‘trailer trash’ they could find.

her words made you angry. bobby wasn’t a drunk or trailer trash, he was far from it. and so what if he wasn’t your father? he took that position when your own dad couldn’t, and you would like to see the look on clara’s face when your whole grade found out her dad was cheating on her mom with their babysitter.

though they say the words of a middle schooler still stings, and they had bobby finding you curled up in your bed, tears rolling down your cheeks as you clung onto your little bunny plushie.

he tried to make you feel better, telling you that kids could be mean sometimes and the best thing you could do was ignore them. but you wouldn’t listen, and bobby knew that a visit from sam and dean was long overdue.

you hadn’t seen your two best friends in almost six months. john had them hauled around half of the united states, putting dean on his first solo hunts and allowing sam to finally join when he and dean went out. they’d missed you though. even dean who’d recently turned seventeen was missing some time with his built in little sister.

a couple of hours later, a knock on your door interrupted the silent tears streaming down your face. you were fully prepared to tell bobby to go away, but when the door opened slightly and revealed a lanky sam winchester in it’s frame, you couldn’t resist springing up and running to give him a hug.

the force at which you ran at sam had him stumbling to steady himself, arms going around your waist and socked feet slightly slipping against the hard wood. he didn’t want you to fall, and if you did, he’d rather himself break your fall then risk you having a nasty bruise.

when he finally steadied the both of you, sam reacted in hugging you back. the feeling of your face in the crook of his neck had him feeling at peace. all he could do was grip onto you tighter, hoping that his presence would help with whatever pain you felt.

as he pulled away, sam moved the hair away from your face without a second thought, not thinking anything of it as he wanted to properly see your face. “what’s got you so upset, ladybug?” the nickname came from a hike that you and sam went on when you were eleven. a ladybug landing on your finger and a bright smile adorning your face right after.

sam would say that was the most beautiful you’ve ever looked. but hell, you look beautiful every time he looks at you.

when you were through with explaining what had made you upset, sam could feel himself garnering sympathy and anger towards your situation. he felt bad, knowing you did not deserve any of those words said to you for they were far from the truth. though he was also angry because clara riggs had no right to talk. her family was more dysfunctional than his and that was really saying something.

“hey don’t listen to her.” sam soothed, hands no rubbing up and down your back to calm you down. “she’s always been cruel, her words should mean nothing to you.”

they did mean something to you, but you didn’t want to worry sam with all your constant worrying. so you just smiled, nodding at sam and half heartedly agreeing, you knew that this was something you’d have to get over on your own, that your dad left you with bobby and your mom was dead. but it was starting to get better, and you knew you had to thank bobby, dean, and especially sam for it.

“c’mon,” sam smiled, slinging his arm around your shoulder. “dean’s dying to see you. he’s been dying to take you on a ride in the impala now that he has his license.”

age seventeen:

high school had gone by in a blur, and suddenly, you were in your senior year. life didn’t feel real. it didn’t feel like you were about to graduate and move onto university in a mere couple of months, but you also accepted this change, knowing that it was good for you.

“bobby can you stop worrying, i’ll be fine.” the older man had busied himself with helping you sort out all your back to school essentials, fussing over your backpack and what clothes you were going to wear. it didn’t matter that you didn’t have a mom or dad, for bobby was basically a two in one with how he handled clothing emergencies and the practical stuff.

huffing, bobby straightened out your jacket one more time, stepping back and finally taking a good look. “god Y/N you are so grown up. i can just picture your tiny little legs running around these halls, making a mess of all my books.”

scowling, you playfully threw a throw pillow at him. “it’s not my fault you left your ancient mythology book right on the table. who knew john needed it for some pesky siren.” the look in bobby’s eyes were deadpan, almost like he was daring you to finish your sentence. “i did, you idjit. that’s why i left it there in the first place.”

“well,” you sighed, leaning against the front door. “we live and we learn.” bobby just grumbled as he shoed you out the door, rambling on about how if you didn’t leave now you’d be late to your last, first day of high school.

the day had gone by pretty quickly, uneventful classes that just had teachers rambling on about college and how now that you were in grade 12, you had to smarten up and focus on your grades.

you were focussing all right. focused on helping bobby with a gnarly werewolf who’d hopefully be the first creature that you’d get to shoot.

you’d known about the supernatural since you were ten, an bobby had you training with a gun since you were fourteen. he still didn’t let you frequently go on hunts, only allowing if it was something small and he’d know you’d be safe.

that didn’t matter though, because at least you got a taste of how it felt. it was nice, but you knew that college was definitely something that you’d want to explore, and it was great that bobby was on board with it.

the man didn’t want you getting swept into the hunter life, explaining how getting out as fast as you can would be the best scenario for you. you understood, agreeing with bobby that getting a couple hunts in before you left wasn’t such a bad thing.

unlike you, sam wasn’t as fortunate to have such an understanding parental figure as you did.

he explained to you how is father was hell bent on sam staying with him and dean, not leaving the family business until their mothers killer was avenged.

you knew sam didn’t want that. he expressed to you so many times how he dreamed of going to university, getting out of the hunter life so he could live normally for once. you were supportive of him, silently cursing john for his terrible ways of treating his sons.

so walking into your bedroom to see sam winchester sat on your bed watching buffy the vampire slayer was not something you were surprised by. him running away from his dads antics had been happening more often lately, and you really didn’t blame him. john was getting even more out of hand then he already was, and the mentions of sam leaving for university wasn’t helping.

his head turned as you closed the door behind you, eyes softening to that golden hazel that you could never resist. but sam looked so sad, and you wanted to help him for all those times that he’s been by your side wiping your tears.

“sammy, what’s wrong? was it your dad again?” all he could do was shake his head no, sniffling slightly while his hand moved up to whip his tear stained cheeks.

you softly sat down beside him, hand instantly finding his and squeezing, letting him know you were there. “it’s me Y/N, it’s all me.” his words had you cocking your head in confusion, but as he continued, you felt your heart break even more. “dad wants me to follow him and dean, but i don’t want to! anytime i bring it up he gets so mad, and i can see how upset it makes dean. if i leave, dad said i’d be disappointing the family. i don’t want to disappoint my brother Y/N. ever.”

as he continued to speak, you could feel your heart go from breaking to falling completely out of your chest. the pressure that john winchester was putting on his young son was unacceptable. sam wanting to go to college was normal, and telling him that him leaving would disappoint his family was absolutely vile and disgusting.

“sam,” you whispered, head leaning on his shoulder so he could feel some semblance of comfort. “you have every right to want to pursue a higher education. dean will come around eventually, you know that. me and you both know that your dad is very stuck in his ways, but if you want this to happen then you’ll fucking make it happen. am i clear sam winchester?”

his laugh brought a smile to your face. sam being happy made you happy. and knowing that you made him laugh after he was so torn up and sad inside made you feel a warm and fuzzy feeling.

“trust me, i know how crystal clear you are.” his giggle died down as a contemplative look dawned on his face. “i even have a slight idea of where i want to go.”

humming slightly, you heard sam sigh as he continued. “i think i want to go to stanford, for law.” lifting your head from his shoulder, you cracked a smile as you jokingly punched him on the shoulder. “oh sammy, you pretentious snob. you’ll fit in there perfectly.”

“not as perfect as you at clown college.”

“okay now your pushing your luck, winchester.”

age twenty three:

those crucial moments in yours and sam’s story has always been something that made you smile. even now, when you haven’t seen the younger winchester boy in almost five years.

the last time you saw him, you were helping him move into his stanford dorm. john was absolutely out of the picture, and dean was still wound up over the whole thing. the only person that sam knew would help him and guide him through the day was you.

you’d gave him a massive hug, kissing him on the cheek and reminding him that he would do great things, that you would always support him.

as you left, a single tear had raised to your water line. but you wouldn’t let it fall. sam was finally doing what he always wanted to achieve. leaving the family business and living a normal life. if that meant not seeing him for a while then so be it.

though, these past five years have been torture without him.

you saw dean here and there. though the last time you crossed paths was when him and john were working a case down near your college campus in seattle washington, and even that was around two years ago.

dean was doing fine. he was coping with sam’s departure and seemed to really get a good grip on the whole hunting thing. it was like there was no time between then and the last time you two saw each other. it was like old times, laughter ringing through your small apartment and dean still being a major pain in your ass.

but now you were twenty three, in grad school and still living in washington state. your apartment was small, but manageable, and the job you had working as a barista in a coffee shop down the street from where you lived was going fine.

your life was doable, normal with no monsters lurking around. and you felt very content with that.

well, of course, as stories go, that was until dean came around calling your home phone and asking you for help with a case him and sam were working on.

yes, sam. he’d come back into the hunting scene around a year ago. you weren’t completely out of the loop, you still kept in touch with some hunters here and there. then there was bobby who was always on you, calling your phone every week to have your weekly gossip hour as he liked to call it.

all you knew was the sam was hunting again and john winchester had passed about two months ago. you hadn’t seen the older man in well over six years, and you weren’t completely fond of how he treated his boys, but that didn’t mean you were going to speak ill of the dead.

even if the dead was a borderline abusive dickwad.

now, you found yourself waiting out in front of your apartment building, bags in hand as you anticipated the familiar sound of the roaring chevy impala.

you didn’t know how to feel. you hadn’t seen dean in almost two years. hell, you hadn’t seen sam in five, and you knew all these nervous feelings were because of him.

when you were a kid, you always waited on the day that your crush on sam would go away. you wanted to view him like you viewed dean; like a brother. you knew how complicated things would get if you confessed to sam and he didn’t like you back. but even now, those feelings still rumbled in your gut, and you were hoping and praying seeing same again wouldn’t dredge them back up.

as the car pulled in front of you, and you saw sam’s figure in the front seat, those feelings sprung up your throat like a weekend bender when you were nineteen. he looked even more beautiful. hair grown out longer, face more mature. sam had grown into a fine looking young man, and you were cursing yourself for even thinking such thoughts.

the car ride to indiana wasn’t terrible. you and dean talked for a bit, caught up on all the things that had happened in the past two years. sam on the other hand was more quite. he chimed in once in a while, not shying away from saying hello to you or smiling at you through the rearview mirror, but you knew he was waiting for a time more intimate. a time were he could look you face to face and indulge in a five year long due conversation.

dean finally stopped outside a gas station in the heart of this towns square, letting you and sam know that he was getting more road food and stocking up on gas.

as dean disappeared into the store, you felt a slight tug on your arm. turning around you were instantly ambushed by the feeling of sam’s arms wrapping around you and his body eclipsing yours. he hadn’t hugged you this tight in such a long time, and the feeling had you so overwhelmed with joy that a couple of tears slipped onto your cheeks.

“how’ve you been, ladybug?” the nickname had you gasping out a sob, not that it was a sad one, you were so happy that tears of happiness had fallen and you were full on laugh crying into sam’s chest.

dean usually took an abnormally long time in the gas stations, so you and sam prioritized on that time to catch up on all the things you both missed. he told you about california, you told him about washington. he mentioned all the crazy things he got up to and you told him about all the late night tv show binges you’ve done in the years.

you two had been so caught up in talking, that when the family of three passed behind sam, you didn’t even think much of it. that was until you noticed how familiar the father looked.

oh god, no, it couldn’t be. walking behind sam was your dad, rocking a full blown wife and a daughter, who couldn’t be any older than thirteen.

that’s where he went for all those years? he started a whole new fucking family? you just happened to be so repulsive that your own goddamn father couldn’t stand to be around you? he had to fuck off to indiana and get a whole new family to replace you and your mom.

the world felt like it was spinning. you didn’t even notice sam’s confused glance, or his widened eyes as he finally realized what you had seen. all you remembered was the feeling of his hand on your back, guiding you into the backseat of the impala. he was telling you that everything was okay, but you didn’t know if you believed him or not.

dean coming back and driving to a motel was all a blur. the next thing you remember, sam was helping you walk to a bed, sitting you down and going to grab you a glass of water.

he was worried. you hadn’t moved a muscle since you saw your dad. it was justified though, for you hadn’t seen him in almost seventeen years. he’d walked out on you, and now you had to see him with a whole new family. sam couldn’t even begin to comprehend the pain you were going through.

all sam could do was sit with you. hand rubbing your back as the other mindlessly twirled with a strand of your hair.

dean raved on about how he was going to go find your dad and beat his ass, though sam assumed he was going to give up after maybe ten minutes and end up plastered at a bar.

“oh sweet girl.” you heard sam murmur, moving his arm so he could allow you to rest your head on his shoulder. “why can’t you see how perfect you are? why can’t you see that your dad leaving doesn’t define you.”

quietly sniffling to yourself, you nuzzled your face in sam’s chest even more. “but it does.” you mumbled, playing with a lose thread on sam’s coat. “ever since i was a kid that’s all anyone could talk about. how my dad left me cause he didn’t love me anymore. well guess what? now i know it’s true.”

sam abruptly standing up had you almost falling sideways onto the bed. his hand blocking your head from the fall wasn’t what surprised you, but the anger that was radiating off of him.

“goddammit Y/N. your dad is a jackass, plain and simple. he left and with that left the most amazing and intelligent woman i have ever met. i’ve been so enthralled by you since the day i fucking met you when we were six. i’ve loved you since we shared our first kiss when we were nine, since i wiped your tears at thirteen, and especially when you encouraged me to follow my dreams when we were seventeen.”

“you have been by my side for ever major moment in my life, and i would be a fool to not tell you now how much i am in love with you-“ sam didn’t have time to finish, for you were leaping off the bed and smashing your lips on his. promptly cutting off his sentence.

the two of you hadn’t shared a kiss since you were single digits, but something about sam’s lips and touch felt so familiar. all of the pent up emotions and feelings went into the kiss. years and years of holding back and keeping each other at an arms length was finally being thrown out the window.

both you and sam had been waiting for this moment since you were kids, and you were glad to say that the fluttery feeling you had in your chest whenever he was near wouldn’t be going away soon.

all your days, you’d known sam’s face, and for the rest of your days you still would. sam winchester was your constant, your blinding light of hope in the shit storm that was life.

you possibly couldn’t ask for anything better.

[windchesterluver]

Two is better than one

Summary: Sam and Dean discover they’ve both fallen for their childhood best friend—and when you care, you share.

Word count: 1.5k

Notes: inspired by @dulcescorderitas

(This took 3 hours)

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, threesome, no wincest cuz gross, slight praise kink,

Things had changed between the three of you—you could feel it. It had been a year since you last hunted together, and, God, how you missed them. The three amigos, the three musketeers—you were inseparable, stuck together like glue. But then life happened, and you had to pull away. A week ago, you ran into them again while working a case, and afterward, none of you had the guts to say goodbye again. Somehow, everything fell back into place, as if you’d never been apart.

You tried to pretend you couldn’t feel the tension between the three of you. Tried to convince yourself Dean’s lingering gaze was just his way and that Sam’s hugs had always lasted a little too long. You lied to yourself, that you didn’t enjoy the warmth of Sam’s body pressed against yours or that your cheeks didn’t burn when Dean’s eyes trailed your body. But all the pretending and lying crumbled the moment you overheard them arguing.

It was late when you set out to grab some food, but as you approached the motel door, the sound of the brothers yelling stopped you in your tracks. Their words were muffled, but your name rang clear as day. After a few seconds of listening in and your heart pounding you finally mustered the courage to push the door open. The room fell silent the moment you stepped inside, and the tension lingered throughout dinner until it was broken by the sound of your voice.

“I have a case in my hometown, i leave tomorrow” you stated quietly. Your eyes fixed on your plate, feeling the brothers gaze over you. “we’ll come with you” Sam replied calmly. You swallowed hard “It's personal”. Both brothers furrowed their brows, exchanging a confused glance. “Is someone threatening you?” Dean’s tone was sharp, almost accusing. “What? No!” You snapped back startled. “Then what is it?” Sams's tone was gentle and his turned-up brows paired with his puppy eyes made it hard to lie. The more your gaze shifted between the two of them the more you felt yourself cracking. You had barely survived the year without them—how could you possibly survive a lifetime?

“Y/N,” Dean’s sharp voice snapped you back to reality. You bit down on your lip, pushing yourself away from the table. The boys immediately followed your lead, all of you now standing in tense silence. “I can't be the reason you two fall apart” you explained. Their expressions shifted to shock“What?” Dean scoffed. You inhaled sharply, steadying yourself “i heard you t fighting…it was about me wasn’t it?” You watched the boys turn to each other. Dean raised a brow and Sam nodded his head, like they were communicating telepathically.

“I think you’d better sit down for this,” Sam said softly moving toward you. Taking your wrist gently, he guided you to the edge of the motel bed. The mattress let out a faint squeak as Dean sat beside you, his thigh pressed firmly against yours. Sam studied your confused haze, his gaze steady and calm, before clasping his hand over yours. “We weren’t fighting,” he began. “We were talking about how we want you…” He hesitated, his words hanging in the air at the feeling of your hand tightening around his, your eyes fixed with anticipation. “And we’re hoping you wanted us”

Your gaze broke from Sam's when you felt Dean's cold hand rest on your lower back. Your eyes met his, his calm and reassuring expression grounding you. "Only if you want to," he said firmly, slowly inching closer before connecting his lips to yours. When your lips moved against him, he deepened the kiss, his restraint melting away. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, turning you fully toward him, and positioning himself between your legs. Sam softly pulled you to lean against his chest, his hand making their way to unbutton your shirt “Are you ok with this?” he whispered. Dean pulled away to let you respond, you nodded your head “Please” you begged breathlessly.

Dean wasted no time stripping himself of his clothes, before helping you out of your pants while Sam threw your shirt to the ground. “Ready?” Dean asked pumping himself, your eyes already showing how desperate you were with Sam sucking at your neck. You scratched at Sam's clothed thighs feeling Dean push into you. Dean leaned into the other side of your neck, continuing to thrust inside you. Your hot breath and moans against his ear made him let out a deep groan as he quickened his pace.

You were so intoxicated by Dean's movements, that you missed the feeling of Sam's hands sliding between you and Dean's chest, cupping your breast before giving a gentle squeeze releasing a small moan from your wet lips. “You sound so beautiful” he muttered. Dean could feel you arch against him and with a few more deep thrusts, watched you release around him before following. Your Head lay back on the younger brother’s shoulder, weakly looking up at him “Sam” you panted. He quickly passed you off to Dean who distracted you with light kisses around your jaw and collarbone. Your head tilted to the side and eyes locked on Sam undressing himself. you could feel yourself pooling again. Sam pulled you from Dean's arms as he climbed back on the bed, allowing you to hook your arms around his broad shoulders. “I'll be gentle” he spoke against your lips. You shuddered at the feeling of being reentered, your hands reaching up to fist his hair.

Sam’s thrusts were deep and slow compared to Dean's quick and harsh ones, slowly building you up. You didn't think the feeling could get better until a familiar hand made its way between your legs and gentle fingers circled your clit, making you gasp. You turned to see Dean over your shoulder “Hi sweetheart” he smirked pressing his lips to yours. It only lasted a moment when Sam's hand grabbed your face turning you to him “My turn” he groaned before smacking his lips against yours. You could feel yourself reaching your high again, uncontrollably rolling your hips into him. His grip on your hips tightened while he cam into you, your fluids mixing.

“Good girl” he cooed, bringing you down from your high, and softly laying you on the mattress. Your eyelids flickered to the brothers who were on either side of you. “You did so well, sweetheart” Dean praised, brushing sweaty strands of hair off your forehead. “Get some rest, we’ll take care of you,” Sam spoke gently, watching your eyes flicker close. The feeling of gentle lips grazing your skin as you dozed off.

[mxltifxnd0m]

smother it ː s. winchester

summary: sam has to patch you up, but the problem lies within the fact the two of you despise each another

pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem! reader [can be read as gn/afab reader]

word count: 4.7K

warnings: 18+, no use of 'y/n', slight enemies to lovers, mentions of wounds and stitches, bickering, curse words, some smut [fem receiving oral], and fluff

a/n: first kinda smut for sam so PLEASE MINORS DNI!! for my sake and your own! I will be checking blogs who interact with this one-shot for minors and I will be blocking you if you do. i have SFW works for sam, so please go and check those ones out instead!

without further ado, please enjoy the oneshot and reblog and comment your thots 😏

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

From the moment you met Sam Winchester, he managed to get under your skin like no other.

You had met the Winchesters while hunting a siren, which, at the time, you didn't know what you were hunting. You were stumped with the evidence that you had found. But you had bumped into Dean while in the morgue, both posing as FBI agents and realizing that the other was a hunter soon after the coroner left the room. You had some idea who this hunter was, but when he finally dropped the FBI shtick and introduced himself as Dean Winchester, it confirmed your suspicions that you had when you asked Bobby for some help on this hunt and said he sent "one of the best" your way.

You were surprised at how well you got along with Dean, having heard some choice words that Bobby has described the Winchesters as a particular kind of character (his words, not yours). But you were not prepared to be met with hostility from the "infamous" Sam Winchester when Dean brought you back to their motel room.

Sam visibly bristled when you entered the room, which you chalked up as the fact that you were a stranger intruding in on a private space, which you wholly understood; you would have reacted in the same way. But when Dean clarified that you were the hunter they were sent to help with, Sam rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath.

You were a bit confused by the cold shoulder that Sam was giving you, and apparently so was Dean, having seen him give his brother a weird look after he interrupted you for the third time when trying to figure out what you guys were hunting. You bit your tongue each time he did, but the third time was enough, and you asked him what the hell his problem was with you. You genuinely wanted to know since you had been nothing but kind to him.

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's obviously a siren, but you wouldn't know that given that you're new at this." He said, completely disregarding your question, and he continued on with explaining his theory on what the monster the three of you were hunting was.

You stared at Sam, nostrils flared, and anger filled your veins at the fact he thought you were new at hunting. You were brought up to hunt from a very young age and had been for a very long time, so the fact that he thought you were an inexperienced hunter boiled your blood. You had heard about the Winchesters and their reputation growing up, knowing their prowess for hunting was high, but you never expected someone like Sam, who looked like a gentle giant at first glance, to be such a dick.

"Thank you for that boy genius. Do you ever actually get to kill the thing, or is your nose too busy to be stuck in a book and that's why you let your brother do the heavy lifting?" You retorted, looking at him with a cocked brow.

You saw Sam's jaw clench and eyes flash with irritation at your words. He went to respond, but Dean quickly intervened and tried to de-escalate the situation at hand. He practically sent you and Sam to timeout, having told you to go back to your room to cool off while he talked to Sam alone.

You pressed your lips together and tried not to stomp out of the room like a toddler having a tantrum. You left the room, slamming their door shut and went back to your room. You were muttering angrily to yourself as you walked back to your room. You can't believe that Sam had insulted your ability to hunt. He hadn't even seen you hunt before. You'd never expected Sam to be this much of an ass to you (you honestly thought it would be Dean to act this way from what you heard from Bobby).

Dean eventually came for you in your room and told you to come back. Once you were back in their room, Dean sat you down across Sam and lectured the two of you. He made you promise that you or Sam wouldn't take jabs at one another or try to provoke the other into an argument. So, like two disgruntled children, you both promised Dean that you guys wouldn't do any of that until after the hunt was over and you had killed the siren.

But once you killed that siren, you immediately left, not wanting to stay in the presence of Sam Winchester any longer than you had to. But as fate would have it, you guys would always seem to cross paths with you on hunts. Dean would always find you and invite you to hunt with them, and before you could even think about saying no, he'd pull a puppy dog look at you, and pout. Which, without fail, you would always say yes to.

Hunting with Sam was torture. He'd always nitpick the way you went about research and would take any chance to correct you about the lore behind particular creatures that you were hunting. Sam loved being insufferable toward you, and you could tell it brought him so much joy when you would have to storm away from him; otherwise, you would have broken his nose with a swift punch to his face.

You knew you hated Sam Winchester, and you knew for a fact that he had the same feelings toward you. You also despised the fact that you found him attractive. Sam was tall, almost too tall, had shaggy brown hair that he pulled off effortlessly, hazel eyes that seemed to be an endless pool of blues, greens, browns, and golds, and smug smirks he would send you when he was right about some obscure lore were deadly combinations for you.

You wished that you weren't drawn to him, but you saw the kind smiles and the soft eyes that never were directed at you, but he had when he talked to the victims on hunts. You even saw the dimples that he had when he'd smile at the stupid banter that he and Dean would have when the three of you were at a bar celebrating a job well done and Sam had loosened up with a couple of drinks in him.

"Stop squirming," Sam ordered you with a grumble, a frown on his face as he wiped the blood away from the gash on your back. His words brought you back to the present.

You glared at him through the mirror of the cramped motel bathroom the two of you were in. He took most of the space with his broad frame, standing behind you as your hands gripped the edge of the porcelain countertop, cleaning the wound you had gotten when the ghoul you were hunting threw you through a glass table and glass ended up cutting up your back. You would have cleaned it yourself, but it was in a spot where you needed to be a contortionist if you wanted to clean it yourself.

You would have asked Dean for help, but as soon as he cleaned up from the hunt, he left the motel to go to the nearest bar while you waited for Sam to be done with the shower. You wished you didn't have to share the room with the boys on this hunt, but when you arrived at the motel, there were no vacancies, so you had to bunk with the Winchesters.

You winced as Sam suddenly stuck the needle into your skin. The glass that sliced into your back was deep enough to where it needed stitches. You swore you saw something flicker in his eyes as his gaze looked up from your back, and you hissed slightly at the feeling before he focused on the task at hand. You were regretting ever saying yes to helping Dean.

"You need to be less reckless, I don't want to be the one patching you constantly." Sam mumbled as he threaded the needle through your skin.

You huffed angrily. "Yeah sure, next time I'll ask the ghoul to gently throw me through a glass table." You snapped at him.

You hissed through your teeth as you felt Sam tug on a stitch, making it tighter than it needed to be and sending a sting of pain through your back. You glared at him harder through the mirror as you saw the corner of his lip twitch significantly.

"Sorry, did that hurt?" He asked, his tone feigning innocence as he finished stitching up your wound. Sam tied off the stitch and sniped the thread, quickly grabbing some gauze and medical tape to cover your freshly sewn skin together. Once he was done, you grabbed the hem of the tank top you were wearing and pulled it down. Then, you reached for the first aid kit lying on top of the toilet seat.

"I can do the rest. You're released from your duties now." You tell Sam sarcastically as you eye the cut that was near your hairline.

As you were looking through the first aid kit to grab some ointment before you cleaned the cut, you felt Sam move out of the bathroom, the room feeling less suffocating as he did, but you didn't notice his eyes on you the entire time until he leaned against the doorway. Unfortunately for you, he stayed there with his gaze stuck on you.

You glanced to see his broad figure take up the entire doorway and scowled. "You can leave now, join your brother at the bar, I don't need your help anymore."

Sam didn't move an inch at your words. "Why do you hate me?" He asked instead of listening to you.

Your lips thinned into a straight line as you closed the first aid kid with more force than you intended, and a sharp laugh left your lips.

"Really? You're asking me this now? If anyone should be asking this question, it should be me."

You saw Sam shrugging out the corner of your eye. "Just curious, it's clear that you don't like me."

"That's rich coming from the man who has been nothing but hostile towards me the moment I set foot in the same room as him." You quickly tried to clean the cut on your forehead. Luckily, it wasn't as bad as it looked, and you swiftly cleaned it and placed a butterfly bandage on it.

"It's not like you were the most friendly either."

You turned to face Sam, a fiery look in your eyes. "Only because I tried to be nice to you, but you were nothing but a dick to me." You wanted nothing more but to slap Sam's stupidly handsome face.

Sam started to smirk, clearly enjoying getting you riled up. "Is that so?" He asked, tilting his head to the side. Sam's question felt demeaning.

"Oh for Christ's sake. I'm not doing this with you right now." You all but growled through gritted teeth. You pushed past Sam, hitting his shoulder hard as you made your way out of the bathroom and gathered your things. You've had it with Sam, and if he was going to play this game with you, you would just leave and never interact with the Winchesters again.

You tried putting on your jacket but cringed in pain when you felt your stitches pull, and a warm hand on your shoulder stopped you.

"You're gonna rip the stitches if you keep that up," Sam said in an uncharacteristically soft voice, which made you frown. You shrugged off his hand and turned around to see his eyebrows pinched. You hated that all you wanted to do was smooth out the wrinkles that formed in the middle.

You shook your head to get rid of that thought. "Oh, fuck off, Sam. Don't act like you care. If it wasn't for Dean being there, you would have probably left me there to bleed out."

Sam flinched at your harsh words, his face hardening before softening again as his hand twitched at his side like he wanted to reach out but fought against it.

"Look, I'm sorry for how I treated you." He licked his bottom lip. "I-you. I do care about you."

You looked at him with disbelief. "Really? Wow, could've fooled me." You sent him a sarcastic smile before turning back around, intending to leave the room. You couldn't care less about your stuff at the moment.

"Hey!" Sam called out for you and grabbed your arm to stop you from leaving. His grip on your arm was firm but not painful. You stopped in your tracks before closing your eyes and your tense shoulders relaxing at his touch.

"Sam." You intended for your voice to come out firm, but instead, it came out hoarse, almost tired.

Sam gently pulled you back towards him, and you let him turn you around so he could see him. Your eyes were still closed as you faced him, his grip on your arm slowly moving up and resting on your shoulder, his other hand moving to rest on your other shoulder.

You eventually opened your eyes to find Sam studying your face. His eyes were like a green haze. The warm lighting of the room made the flecks of brown and gold scattered throughout his eyes more prominent, threatening to take over the green.

Sam said your name softly as his thumbs started to swipe against your bare skin. "I do care about you, more than you know."

You scoffed. "Well, you have a shit way of showing it." His flawed logic was making the anger you felt earlier begin to rise again.

"I know, I know," Sam took a deep breath before speaking again. "When I saw you come into the room, you made me feel things I hadn't felt in a long time. So I thought if I was cold towards you, they would go away or at least hide what I actually felt toward you."

Irritation swelled in your chest.

"So, you decided to take the playground approach? Newsflash, Sam, you're an adult, and being a dick to someone won't make them like you. If you really wanted to make someone like you, you would be yourself or have the decency to be nice to them." You glared up at Sam as you ranted.

Sam smiled. That man started to smile, and it did nothing to quell the anger bubbling underneath your skin.

"What the hell are you smiling at Winchester?"

He shook his head, clearly trying to shove down his amusement. But his dimples threatened to appear as he cleared his throat and arranged his face into a more neutral expression before speaking.

"Look, I am sorry for how I treated you. I know we aren't kids, and I shouldn't have acted like a child toward you, but sometimes you make me feel like a stupid kid with a crush." Sam's hands squeezed your shoulders before they moved down your hands and held them.

You pursed your lips to bite back a smile that wanted to appear on your face. You felt your stomach flutter at Sam's admission as you looked down at your connected hands, his hands engulfing yours as his thumbs rubbed circles into the tops of them.

"You know, for someone so intelligent, you can be really dumb." You said as you inched closer to Sam.

Sam let out a chuckle at your words, a red hue on his cheeks growing as he smiled sheepishly down at you. You couldn't help but let a smile appear on your face at the sound of his amusement.

"Yeah, I know. I just really like you, and you make me feel stupid sometimes." Sam sighed as he stared down at you.

"Well, you're in luck because I seem to like your dumb ass too." You let go of one of his hands to cup his cheek.

Sam leaned into your touch. "Really?" His eyes lit up like he was a kid in a candy shop.

You rolled your eyes at the giant in front of you and pinched his cheek playfully. "No," You deadpan. "Although, your brother on the other hand…" You grinned sarcastically at him.

Sam took his turn to roll his eyes at you, and before you could tell him you were kidding, he let go of your hand, grabbed the nape of your neck, and pulled you into a passionate kiss.

You almost yelped into his mouth from how fast Sam moved. His other hand moved to your waist as your hand that wasn't cupping his cheek went to rest on his shoulder. Sam moved the two backward until he sat down on the edge of the bed, lifted you, and placed you on his lap.

Desire filled your veins as Sam's lips moved against yours fervently. A small moan fell from your lips as Sam nipped at your bottom lip and took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, groaning lowly when your tongue slid against his.

It was as if you were both finally on the same wavelength because, in moments, his tongue was already exploring the inside of your mouth. His hands slide down to your sides, where he caresses your body with both his hands. You both seemed to be completely lost in this kiss, as you both forgot about anything else around you, like time and space.

His lips eventually left yours, feeling out of breath as he dotted kisses across your jaw and down your neck. His hands moved to the hem of your tanktop and slid it up, slowly exposing more and more of your skin until it was entirely off, leaving you in your bra in front of him. Sam managed to rip his lips from your neck to drink in your body, his hazel eyes dark with desire.

"You're so beautiful." He breathed out as his hands moved up your back, almost covering the entire length of it from how big his hands were. Sam reaches for the clasp of your bra but stops when he brushes over the bandage on your back. Sam pulled back slightly, looking at you with a slight frown on his face.

You wanted to do nothing but kiss it away, so you did. Your lips touched Sam's softly as your hands reached for the hem of his shirt. He let you take it off of him, only breaking from the kiss to get it over his head.

You drank in Sam's bare torso. Taking in every inch of him. His tattoo stands out against his tanned skin, his muscles expanding and contracting as he breathes heavily. Sam was like a marble statue that came to life.

The motel room was silent, save for your and Sam's heavy breathing as you stared at each other. Sam's hand was still resting on the part of your back that was bandaged.

"You sure you're up for this right now?" Sam asked with concern, lacing his tone.

You smiled at him and nodded. "I might implode if you stop right now."

Sam laughed at your words, his dimples appearing as he smiled widely at you. "Oh, wow. Implode huh?" He raised his eyebrows in surprise as his smile turned into a flirty smirk.

You nodded, a serious expression on your face as you rested your forehead on his. "Yep, we wouldn't want that happening now would we?" A sultry smile on your face as you teased his lips with little pecks.

Sam's hands moved back to your waist and squeezed. "No we wouldn't." He answered before he caught your lips between his. Your hands moved from his bare shoulders to the nape of his neck, and you started to tug at the longer strands of hair, making him groan into the kiss.

Sam's hands moved up your back and unclasped your bra, almost tearing the straps off as he tugged them from your arms and threw the bra somewhere in the room. His lips left yours to trail down your neck and chest, and you leaned back, exposing your chest to him more. And you let out a soft moan, feeling him nip at your smooth skin and taking one of your nipples in his mouth, licking and sucking at it.

The hands that were wound in his head began to tug at his hair harder as he moved from one breast to the other. He let out a low growl against you, sending vibrations down your spine and into the heat that was pooling in your core.

One of Sam's hands moved down your body and to the front of your pants, and the button on your jeans popped open with a flick of his fingers. His hand slowly made its way past your underwear, and he pulled away from your chest with a groan when he felt how wet you were.

"This all for me?" Sam asked with a salacious grin on his face as two of his fingers swiped through your slit, coating his fingers and moving up to rub at your clit. You whimpered as you nodded, your hips rutting against his hand, and you could feel yourself getting wetter as he rubbed at your clit faster.

Sam abruptly stopped, pulled his hand away, and tugged at your pants urgently. You managed to get out of your pants and underwear with the help of his insistent hands, and once they were off, he grabbed your hips and fell backward on the bed, pulling you up until your naked core was level with his face.

"Sam!" You yelped, surprised at his strength and sudden manhandling.

"I don't want to hurt your back, but I really need to taste you," Sam said as he looked at your cunt hungrily.

"You sure?" You looked down at him hesitantly.

Sam's eyes softened as he looked up at you, his thumbs drawing circles on your thighs. "We can stop right here if you want."

You bit down on your bottom lip before shaking your head. "Just don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," He reassured you before smirking. "Besides, I wouldn't mind going out like this. 'S better than the alternative."

You laughed at Sam's words, putting you at ease, and you nodded at him to go ahead.

"I'll need words pretty girl." Sam squeezed your thighs.

You felt a heat bloom on your face and in your core at his words as you brushed back Sam's bangs from his forehead.

"Sam, please I need you." You all but whined.

"You have me." Sam said before pulling you on top of his face, burying his head between your thighs as his tongue began to lick and suck at your clit.

Moans began to escape your lips as your hips began to rut into his face, his tongue now lapping at your entrance as his nose nudged against your sensitive nub. You could feel the knot in your lower belly get tighter and tighter as Sam moved back to suck at your clit, and two of his fingers prodded at your entrance before slipping with little resistance. You felt so full with his fingers inside you. Sam's fingers quickly found your g-spot and began to rub at it, making you arch your back almost painfully at the intense pleasure Sam was giving you.

"Fuck! Sam I-I'm close."

At your words, Sam seemed to grow even hungrier for you to come. You tugged at his hair hard and rutted against his face faster before he sucked at your clit hard and pressed against your g-spot, making you fall over the edge as stars danced behind your eyes and you clenched around his fingers.

You could feel the vibration of Sam's low groan in your cunt as he tasted you, lapping at you until you were too sensitive. You climbed off of him with shakey legs and collapsed beside him; a layer of sweat coated the entirety of your naked body as you tried to catch your breath. Sam pressed soft kisses to your shoulder and collarbone as he waited for you to calm down.

Once you had calmed down, Sam caught your lips in a soft kiss.

"You okay?" He mumbled against your lips.

"More than." You smiled against his lips before you kissed him deeply. Sam slowly moved to hover over you. One of your hands moved from the bed to the waistband of the pants that Sam was wearing and inched downward until it cupped the bulge that was very prominent in his sweatpants.

Sam's groan was muffled by your lips, but before you could even think about taking off Sam's belt, the motel room door swung open and hit the wall with a slam. You and Sam quickly separated, and bless Sam, he pulled the covers over you to shield Dean's eyes from your naked form as he stood at the foot of the bed.

"Woah!" You heard Dean exclaim, and you looked over to see him walking back outside and closing the door.

"Finally! You could have cut the sexual tension between the two of you with a knife. But make sure to put a sock on the doorknob next time," Dean said through the closed door of the motel. You and Sam looked at each other, both of you flustered by the fact that Dean walked in on you guys.

"I'll be in the Impala tonight. Sammy, make sure you use protection!" He called through the door and promptly walked away from the door.

You stared at Sam before breaking out into a fit of laughter. Sam started to chuckle as he heard you laughing. A warmth bloomed in his chest when he saw your body shake. You laughed a bit too hard, and you felt a sharp pain come from your back. Sam saw you winced and walked over to you with worry in his eyes.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" His eyes flicked up and down your body quickly.

You shook your head, "No, just my back, I might have pulled a stitch or something."

"Let me check." Sam gestured for you to turn around.

You took off the covers and rolled onto your stomach to let Sam check your stitches. You felt him pull back the bandage before replacing it again.

"You didn't tear anything, but it's probably not a good idea to continue with what we were doing before Dean barged in."

You huffed a laugh as you turned back to face Sam. "You mean before you were about to fuck me?"

Sam flushed red at your words but threw his head back to laugh. The sound made you grin before you joined in; his giggles were infectious.

"Yeah, before that." He nodded and responded when he calmed down, the occasional chuckle escaping his lips.

You sighed dramatically. "If you insist." You knew it wasn't a good idea to have sex with him when your back was out of commission, but it didn't mean that you wanted to jump his bones; you really did.

Sam smiled before patting your thigh and getting up from the bed to grab the shirt he was wearing earlier that night and toss it to you. You caught it, and you couldn't help but smile as you put it on his shirt. You were engulfed by Sam's smell. The notes of citrus, mint, mahogany, and his musk made you melt inside.

The two of you got underneath the covers of the bed, and Sam was quick to tuck you into his side. You threw your leg over his hips as you used his bicep as a pillow. You let out a contented sigh as you settled in Sam's embrace.

Sam looked over at you, used his free hand to tilt your chin towards him, and kissed you gently. "Goodnight." He murmured against your lips.

"Night Sammy." You whispered before giving him one last lingering kiss and tucking your head in the crook of his neck. The events of the day hit you, and with the warmth of Sam's bare chest, the exhaustion consumed you. The last thing you could remember before you entered your dreamscape was Sam kissing your forehead softly before pulling you closer to him.

[gublernatural]

dean’s outlook on his little sammy falling in love :(

reader is hungover in this!

dean was never one to believe in romantic love. his entire life has been surround by loss and heartbreak, so believing in something good, and pure, was difficult for him. sure, he knew familial love. he believes in the kind of love that was given from the moment he was born, the kind that is an obligation.

but when he sees you, curled into his brother’s side, fast asleep in a cheap, uncomfortable motel bed, he thinks, just for a moment, maybe romantic love is good.

from the moment the winchester brothers found you, covered in vampire blood, sitting outside of a nest, cussing to yourself about your car not starting, you and sam had a different kind of bond. despite dean being the one to handle your car’s issues, all of your thanks were thrown to sam. sam sat on the curb with you as dean checked under your hood, and worked whatever magic he could to get it up and running again. not that it lasted very long, shutting down again about a mile away from the nest. sam was the one who told you get into dean’s beloved impala. you shared the story of how you took care of the nest, but that one of the vamps, in a last ditch effort to keep you from a pressing the blade you held against his neck any further, mentioned something more dangerous that his nest that was lurking outside of town.

which led to your first hunt with the winchester boys, and the rest was history.

dean let out a sigh at the sight of you two. you were laying on your side, tucked right into sam’s shoulder. he was on his back, with a protective arm tracing down your back. your arm thrown over his waist, holding him close. you two fit together like two puzzle pieces would, dean observed, before heading out to pick up something greasy for breakfast.

“you awake?” sam mumbled, just a few minutes after he woke up himself. you let a mumble that sounded vaguely like a “yes”, before pressing yourself closer to sam. “hey hey,” he ushered you away, putting a slight gap between your face and his chest. just a small one.

“your nose is cold,” he complained, but pressed his arm against you. “‘m sorry,” you mumbled again.

sam let out a chuckle, before moving to get himself up. he looked over to dean’s bed where a small piece of paper was left. ‘went to get some grub’ was written across it, in dean’s messy handwriting. “dean went to get breakfast,” he informed you. you let out a noise of agreement, not mustering the energy for anything more. “hopefully it’s something greasy for ya,” sam called out as he made his way into the bathroom. if your hangover wasn’t so bad, you’d have flipped him off.

as the water from the shower turned on, you started to release yourself from the uncomfy confines of the motel bed. your head was pounding before dean slammed the motel door opened, and hammering afterwards. “chill,” was all you could say, hoping dean understood that you needed him to calm down some. “here ya go,” he said as a he passed you a bag with a greasy breakfast sandwich. “thanks,” you mumbled, sitting it on the bed next to you. you didn’t know if your stomach could handle it right now, so you decided to wait for sam.

“you’re not eatin’?” dean asked as he opened his own bag, sitting down at the little corner in the table. “waitin’ for sam,” you informed with a small gesture to the bathroom. “‘course you are,” dean huffed as if he was annoyed about it, but his chest felt a little bit lighter knowing that there was someone else in this world who loved sam enough to wait for him.

[lunajay33]

New Addition🤎

Summary: Being Sam Winchesters long time girlfriend was wonderful until he had family business and was on the road all the time, but what happens when you find out you’re pregnant?

Pairing: Early Seasons Sam Winchester x f!reader

•Masterlist•

Sitting in my apartment missing waking up to sharing the bed with Sam, cuddling against his warm body, sitting on the counter as he makes us pancakes, getting ready for college parties together, everything we use to do now just memories

“Come on Sam I miss you, when are you gonna be home?” I sighed into the phone

“I’m sorry baby I miss you too but Dean and I are working some jobs and….”

“Jobs? I thought you were just looking for your dad? Sam are you okay I’m worried” he’s been gone for a month now and it was miserable he helped pay half the rent and it was a struggle by myself now and he’s my soulmate and being apart really wanes on the heart

“Well we’re still looking just making some stops along the way” I could hear Dean in the back making fun of him calling me baby

“You know I can’t be mad at you I’m just……I just miss you but I hope everything is going good with Dean and you find your dad” he told me all about his problems in the past with his family but all I wanted was for him to be happy

“You know I miss you too baby, wish I could see you, sleeping in these shitty motel rooms doesn’t compare to WOAH Dean stop hitting me!” Dean obviously didn’t want to hear the end of that making me cheer up a bit

“Well just call me more when you get the time but I have class, I love you Sam”

“Love you too Angel” the call ended and I was forced to go along with my daily routine, get ready, go to class and come back to an empty apartment

It went on like this for 2 more months and it just got worse, his calls became less frequent maybe once a week, I fell into a deep sadness that only Sam Winchester could brighten, and I became sick at first I thought it was a flu maybe a stomach bug but after talking to some friends and one test later and I find out I’m pregnant, I have to be atleast 3 months along since that’s the time he’s been gone

After having an hour long breakdown I dialed Sam hoping he had some time to talk and not on another job

“Angel why are you calling so late?” His voice groggy

“Sammy……we need to talk” I stutter out still emotional

“What’s wrong are you okay?”

“I’m pre……I can’t tell you over the phone I need to see you…..please” I beg praying he’ll just come home

“I don’t know Dean and I are…”

“Sam this is really important what ever you’re doing can wait, I need you”

“Okay we’ll be there by the time you wake up”

I woke up exhausted from the stress of the day before, I’m pregnant actually pregnant under normal circumstances I’d be happy starting a family with Sam but with how absent he’s been I feel him drifting away

I willed myself out of bed and pulled on one of Sam’s hoodies that hung down to my knees and wore a pair of pair of black legging, running a warm cloth over my face to freshen up when I heard a rapid knocking at the front door

My heart filled with panic and I was becoming hesitant about coming clean, I opened the door and there he stood, towering over me like a god yet still so soft on me

He swooped down and lifted me easily into his arms and held me close, being back in his arms just felt right it felt like home and so I broke down again as I clung to him

“Sammy” I whined as I hide my tear streaked face in his shoulder smelling his oh so wonderful cologne

He brought me inside and sat me down on the couch, Dean looming in the room after he rummaged for food in our kitchen

“Angel what’s wrong? You don’t look so good” he asked as he stroked my hair helping calm me

“You’ve been gone so long and I understand but it’s been a hard 3 months alone, I can’t sleep, I can’t think straight, I’m broke and……..”

“And what?” Dean intervened making my heart jump, Sam sending him a glare

“I thought I was just sick but…….im pregnant” I felt so vulnerable as he just looked at me seeming to be in shock

“You’re joking” Dean groaned

“I didn’t mean too…..im sorry” I say as my lip trembled

“Oh Angel this isn’t your fault it’s mine and I shouldn’t have left you alone so long like that I don’t know what I was thinking” he sighs as he holds me to his chest

“Family business Sammy” Dean stated

“Dean stop”

“Sam if being with your family is so important and doing all these jobs I understand but if that’s what you want then I don’t want to hold you back if this isn’t what you want anymore”

“What? No of course I want you I want this, you’re my soulmate and I’m never letting you go again, you deserve to know the truth”

“Sam don’t” deans assertive tone booming in the room

After Sam told me everything about this new supernatural world I was sceptic at first but honestly it connected a lot of dots

“So these jobs you work are important but I can’t go months being apart again”

“You can come with us, just for while you’re pregnant and then when you give birth we can go home and settle” he said with a bright smile, that smile I fell in love with

“Are you sure Dean won’t hate me” I whisper to him

“He’ll lighten up trust me Angel”

Sam helped me pack all the my clothes and personal items I needed and we were off on the road, it was a nice car with lots of room for me to stretch out in the back

“So where are we going?”

“There’s signs of a vampires nest in a small town, going to check it out see what’s going on” Dean says his eyes still on the road, he still made me a bit nervous though

“Umm are vampires one of the easier monsters you deal with?” I ask trying to make conversation

“They can be, but a nest of them can be a bitch”

They go on to tell me all the cases they’ve worked since they’ve been gone and it’s crazy to wrap my head around, after driving all day we finally got to the town settling into a little motel room

“I’m gonna go pick us up some dinner” Dean said as he threw his bag on his bed and left

I sat on the bed me and Sam are sharing sighing once the door closed

“What’s wrong Angel?”

“I just hate being a burden to you guys I know how stressful this is for you plus having this baby….”

“Hey you’re not a burden I’m just glad you’re with me now, being cooped up with Dean 24/7 can become a bit macho” he says making me laugh

“Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?” I ask as he places his hand on my tiny bump

“I’m happy with either, you know my mother would have loved you you’re as kind as she was, well atleast that’s what Dean says about her”

“You know this baby is the luckiest in the world to have you as their father, and such a handsome one at that” he smiled as he pulled me into his lap pulling me close

“I’ve missed this, holding you” his hand runs down my back sending shivers

“Kissing you” his lips gently press to my collar bone making me gasp

“Being with you at night” the door bursts open interrupting our moment, I jump out of his lap and their stands Dean and what I believe to be their father from old pictures Sam has showed me

“Sammy trying to get some” Dean laughed making my body heat in embarrassment

“Who’s this?” John asked his voice full of disapproval

“Dad where have you been? Never mind that right now, this is y/n my girlfriend”

“And what the hell is she doing here son?” I felt little under his gaze

“She can’t be alone she’s pregnant” Sam said confidently as he held my hand

“Sam what the hell were you thinking, you can’t have a pregnant girl doing this job, you need to be focused”

“Maybe I should just go home” I say as I go to pick up my bag

“No! You’re staying Angel I’m not letting you go again” he said as he wiped a stray tear I didn’t know had escaped my waterline

“She’s family now dad, you can’t push her away cause if you do then you’re just gonna push me away too, for good this time” John sighed and gave a look to Dean

“Tomorrow we’re going to stake out the vampires nest, be ready” he said sternly before stomping out of the room leaving an awkward cloud looming over the three of us

“Come on you two let’s eat” Dean said in a lighter tone obviously trying to pick up what his father ruined

We ate at the little table chatting about random things, how Sam and I met, our first date and how nervous Sam was, almost everything we had together up until this point

“Have you told your family about the baby?” Dean asked after he took a swig of beer

“I don’t really have family, I was raised in an orphanage and when I turned 18 I was pretty much on my own, I stayed in the schools dorms until Sam and I moved in together, plus our friends kind of changed after first year so it’s mostly just been Sammy and I”

“I’m sorry”

“Oh no it’s fine I’m happy with the way my life turned out it lead me to Sam after all” I smile looking at Sam who had that loving look, he was so gentle compared to his brother

“You guys are going to make me hurl”

It’s been a crazy and stressful 6 months but I’m now in the last week of pregnancy and to say I’m scared is an understatement, I’m terrified but I feel like I can’t tell Dean and Sam with what they face everyday, this is probably a walk in the park to them

They were out right now hunting a werewolf as I paced back and forth in yet another motel room, I’ve been having cramps in my stomach since I woke up but I just thought it could be indigestion from the food we ate last night but they’ve only gotten stronger, walking helps but this could just be Braxton’s hocks I try to tell my self that is u til my water breaks, I’m hesitant to call Sam because of the case but like he said this is more important, I dialed hoping he’d answer

“Hey we’re on our way back now did you need us to pick you up anything?”

“Sam my water broke” I could hear him tell Dean to drive faster

“Okay just hold on we’ll be there soon, just do the breathing exercises like we practiced”

“Okay I’ll try” I breath deeply as another contraction hit a whimper left me but I know it’s going to get much worse

Minutes later Sam and Dean busy through the hotel room, Dean get my to go bag and Sam gently picks me up and brings me to the car sitting with me in the back

“Sammy I’m scared”

“We’re almost to the hospital hold on kiddo” Dean said trying to reassure me, he’d warmed up to me over the months like Sam said

“You can do this, think of our little girl or boy we’re about to meet” I nodded gripping his hand, we got to the hospital and were settled in a private room, Sam at my side and Dean on the couch used for husband or partners

“What if something happens?” I ask as he brushes my hair back

“Everything will be okay, you’re the strongest woman I know”

“It’s time Mrs Winchester” the doctor said making my heart swell at the name, he was wrong but I didn’t care

After some agonizing pushes that pressure was gone replaced by a little babies cries, the nurse laid the baby on my chest and she was beautiful, she had Sam big green hazel eyes and had light brown hair

“Congrats on a baby girl” the nurse said, they cleaned me up and left the room letting the four of us settle

“What are you going to name my little niece?” Dean asked now standing on the other side of the bed mesmerized by her

“How about Luna Mary Winchester” I say looking up to Sam for his opinion

“I love it, I love you, both of you” he smiled as he played with Lunas little fingers

“The three of us just became four”

[keoriwchs]

⭑.ᐟ MORNING SEX - SAM WINCHESTER X SUBFEMREADER! . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

ᝰ.ᐟ WORD COUNT - 1.7k

ᝰ.ᐟ A/N - this is my first time writing something like this. I ain't never actually wrote sex stuff before. But if you like it then Thank You Smm!

ᝰ.ᐟ SUMMARY - You two love birds were having morning sex..Until Sam got a bit to carried away. Yes he was fucking you senseless.

ᝰ.ᐟ CW - smut, domsam!, sub!reader, morning sex, daddy kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, praise kink, hair pulling , skin slapping.

You wake up in the morning as You stretch, your bare skin brushing against the cool sheets. You two are alone dean is somewhere doing god knows what. Sam sat up and rubbed his eyes and looks at you "Good Morning beautiful," Sam says, his voice a low rumble. You smiled and kissed his cheek "Good Morning, My Love" Sam smiled as he wrapped his arms around you give you morning kisses.

Sam looks at you and smiled "You Know"

"I've been thinking about how fucking beautiful you look in the morning." He smirks gripping your thighs.

You raise an eyebrow, a playful grin spreading across your face. "Oh, really? And what exactly have you been thinking about doing to me?" You smirk leaning close to him.

Sam's smirk deepens as he slides his hands under the sheets, his fingertips tracing the curve of your hip. "Well, for starters, I've been thinking about how much I want to taste you. I want to fuck you with my tongue, until you're squirming and begging for more."

You let out a soft moan as Sam's fingers brush against your inner thigh, inching closer to your pussy. "That sounds fucking amazing."

"Good, because that's exactly what I'm going to do," Sam says, his voice husky with desire. He pushes the sheets aside, his eyes roaming over your naked body. He slides down, settling between your legs, his breath hot against your skin.

You spread your legs wider, inviting him in. Sam's tongue darts out, teasing your clit with a gentle flick. You gasp, your hips bucking off the bed. "Fuck, Sam. That feels so good."

Sam's hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as he starts to fuck you with his tongue. He licks and sucks, his movements steady and rhythmic. You can feel the pressure building inside you, your body tensing as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. "What do u want baby?".

"I want you to fuck my ass tonight," you moan, your body writhing against his mouth. "I want you to take me, hard and deep."

Sam groans, his tongue plunging deeper inside you. He pulls back just enough to speak. "Fuck, Y/n. You drive me wild. But tonight, I want you to suck me, just like I'm doing to you right now. I want you to fucking take me deep in your mouth, to taste my cum when I blow my load."

Your pussy clenches at his words, and you feel the first wave of your orgasm crashing over you. Sam licks and sucks harder, his tongue fucking you faster and faster until you scream out his name, your body convulsing with pleasure.

Sam continues to lick you through your orgasm, his tongue lapping up your juices until you're a shaking mess. He climbs up your body, his lips finding yours in a deep, passionate kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and it only serves to fuel your desire for more.

"You taste so fucking sweet," Sam murmurs against your lips. "I want to taste you all day."

"You can," you say, your fingers tangling in his hair. "I want you to fuck me. I want you to fill me up."

Sam grins, positioning himself between your legs. He rubs the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you. "I want to hear you beg for it."

You whimper, your hips lifting to meet his cock. "Please, Sam. Please fuck me. I need your cock inside me."

Sam's eyes flash with lust, and he pushes into you, filling you completely. You moan, your body wrapping around him. He starts to move, his hips thrusting against yours. You can feel every inch of him, stretching you, filling you, making you feel whole.

"You feel so fucking good," Sam groans, his body moving faster. "such a good girl~" he said gripping her thighs.

"Don't stop," you moan. "fuck Sammy~"

Sam picks up the pace, his cock pounding into you. You can feel the pressure building again, your body tense and ready. You reach down, your fingers circling your clit, rubbing in time with Sam's thrusts.

"Fuck, Y/n. You're so fucking sexy," Sam groans. "I want to feel you come around my cock. I want to feel you squeeze me."

You moan, your body tensing as your orgasm hits you. You scream out his name, your body convulsing around him. Sam groans, his body tensing as he comes inside you, his cock pulsing with his release.

You pant and then gasp when Sam flipped you over on your stomach ass up.  "Sam?" you said looking needy & gorgeous (well that's because you are beautiful)

You looked back at Sam , his big cock pressed against your tight hole. Your hands gripping the headboard tightly as you waited for him to take you. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.” With a smirk, he positioned himself behind you, lining up his cock at your hole. The anticipation was palpable as you both waited for him to push inside. Finally, he thrust forward, feeling your tight heat envelop his length. you moaned loudly, your ass clenching around him in response.

 “I want more, please, give me more!  You said moaning against the pillow. You grunt as your hair got tugged back making your arch and moan.

“God, you love it like this, don’t you?” Sam smirks while he kissed your neck and kept pounding you as you scream and call his name "Yeah that's it take Daddy's cock" he whispers in your ear as he smacking your ass leaving red hand print marks.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your moans of pleasure. He reached around, pinching your nipples hard, eliciting a squeal of delight from him. He could feel Your muscles tensing up, preparing for the ultimate release. "Oh Fuck Daddy i'm close!~" You muffled your moans into the pillow.

Sam moans & grunts as he gripped her neck going even harder "fuck yes!~ i'm close lets cum together!~ he said moaning as your moans started to get louder. 

Your entire body was shaking as he continued to pound into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over again. He could feel the pleasure building up inside him, a wave crashing down on him. And then, with a cry of pure ecstasy, He came, as your ass clenching tightly around his cock. "Fuuuck..Sammy~" 

You followed soon after, pouring your seed deep around his cock. As you both caught your breath, He pulled out of you, admiring the sight of your cum dripping out of your ass. You turned around, his eyes filled with love and gratitude. He leaned in, kissing you passionately, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You looked into his eyes, feeling a connection that went beyond the physical. This was more than just a one-night stand; this was something special. As you pulled back, you smiled at him, promising that there would be many more nights like this one.

"We should do that again sometimes." Sam smiled rubbing your tummy.

[arcastiel]

bloodlust ཐིཋྀ (vamp!sam x reader)

↳ synopsis: sam had been turned by a vamp during a hunt, and still was seeking a cure to become human again. in the meantime, you helped him out a little.

↳word count: 2,128

↳ cw: nsfw (MINORS DNI!!), smut, fem/afab!reader, mentions of blood/biting (but he doesn't actually bc he's very responsible <3), p in v (wrap it up!!), just un-proof read hot vamp sex

You pushed the key unceremoniously into the lock and twisted it, unlocking the door and allowing it to gently peel open. The hinges creaked as they churned, and you walked into a dark foyer. You kicked off your shoes and flicked the warm lights on, squinting slightly to adjust to the sudden brightness. You had a plastic bag slung around your forearm, filled with small tubs of animal blood from the butchers. You knew your order was less than orthodox, but the subtle glances of judgment from the butcher didn’t really bother you anymore- not when it was for Sam. You made your way to the kitchen, opening the fridge and placing the bag on the top shelf, noticing the last tub from a previous outing was now gone. Sam must have drank it while you were gone. 

He had been turned into a vamp during a hunt from a few weeks ago, and was still looking for a cure. Dean had taken hunts on solo since then, since he knew Sam wouldn’t be able to help much (and really, the whole baby-brother-turning-into-a-monster-thing had peeved him a bit). You had offered to stay behind and help, and at his request you made frequent visits to the butchers to gather pig and cow blood to avoid sourcing it from humans. You knew he was frustrated and that he felt disgusted with himself by his transformation. It didn’t bother you so much- you were a Twilight girlie growing up, after all- but you knew he was hurting and it made you upset to see.

As you pushed the door to the fridge shut, Sam appeared behind you, towering over you in jeans and black Carhart hoodie. You almost jumped at his sudden appearance, looking up into his light green eyes that were dim and accompanied by heavy dark circles, likely from his lack of sleep and limited diet.

“Hey. How you feelin’?” You asked, leaning against the fridge as he let out a sigh, leaning against the counter of the kitchen island behind him. 

“Fine. Thank you for getting… that.” He nudged his head to the fridge and you smiled, nodding your head.

“No worries. Find anything yet?”

“I found a possible lead. I’ll need to head out tomorrow to talk to some guy in Tuscan.”

“Tuscan huh?” You laughed. “Exciting stuff.”

“Yuh-huh…” Sam shook his head, and your smile dropped at his demeanor. He just looked so tired. You gently brought a hand to his shoulder, reaching up to give it a light squeeze and resting your palm there. 

“I’m sorry Sam. I know I keep saying that, but…” You trailed off, watching his hazy eyes flick to yours, and he put on his best smile.

“It’s okay, really. I’ll figure it out.” He assured you. You just sucked your teeth, knowing he wasn’t as ‘okay’ as he was putting on. You gave his shoulder another rub before your hand trailed closer into the crook of his neck, feather-light fingers delicately brushing the skin. He winced and looked away, straining his neck in the opposite direction. You could see two faint holes, scarred over with dead skin and still slightly red from when he was turned. You could feel his pulse slightly under your touch, heart palpitating in rapid succession.

“Y/N…” He whispered, almost a hiss. Something in his tone said you were playing with fire, and you knew he sometimes had trouble restraining himself when people got really close. You didn’t move, though, observing him cautiously under the dim glow of the overhead kitchen lights. You felt your own heart race, letting your natural curiosity fog your common sense that said stop, now. 

You got up on your tip-toes and craned your neck up towards him, eyes darting from his lips, to his eyes, to his lips again. “Can I-”

You were interrupted by the sudden feeling of his lips on yours, his hands grabbing on to your waist for dear life. You were taken aback, but melted into this kiss as it got hungrier and deeper. His hands were basically digging into your hips, and you moaned into his mouth. When he pulled away, both of you basically panting from lack of breath, his lust-blown pupils flicked down to your exposed neck. Your skin looked so pale and translucent in the light, veins slightly visible as your neck stretched upwards to match his height. A burning hot feeling traveled through his senses, and his grip on you somehow got even tighter in a way that would definitely leave bruises the next day. Every part of him itched, and he physically had to pull himself against the tides of temptation, biting his lower lip so hard it could’ve bled.

Instead of giving in, he grabbed you from under your legs and slung you over his shoulder in such a swift motion that you audibly yelped. You saw rooms go by in a flash, and before you knew it you were being tossed on Sam’s bed. You barely had time to sink into the mattress before he was all over you, lips traveling from yours to your cheeks, and then hovering right above your throat. You watched him squeeze his eyes shut and shudder a breath before skipping your neck and going straight for your chest, making quick work of yanking your top over your head and leaving you in a bra and jeans. You felt your heart racing in your chest, taken off guard (but not exactly hating) how unrestrained he was becoming as he fought his own urges to dig into you. Even with his roughness, he still occasionally looked up to you before making a move to make sure you were okay. His lips hungirly kissed and sucked over your exposed chest, making you instinctively buck your hips towards his. His hands flew to the strap of your bra before unhooking it in seconds flat, allowing the garment to fall loosely off in one quick pull. 

Your bra was tossed to the side, your breasts now bare and heaving to the pattern of your rapid breathing. He looked up at you with blown pupils, breathing just as heavy as you with his mouth slightly agape, allowing you to see his pointed canines- white and sharp, just inches above your skin. You knew that this was a terrible idea and one wrong move could turn you, too, but you were too needy to care. Feeling his weighted body above yours, his thick denim jeans creating friction between your own, your exposed chest nearly pressed against his muscular forearms… who cares if he bit you, you needed something. Now. 

Maybe mind reading was another vamp power you weren’t aware of, because his mouth moved back down to your chest and continued to kiss and suck. You felt your skin raise with goosebumps as the blend of cold from the exposure mixed with the anticipation building in your body, soft moans escaping your plush lips. As he kissed, he dug one hand under the waistband of your jeans, long fingers ghosting the outside of your thin panties. You gasped at his touch, his fingers slowly circling the fabric just outside of your core, causing a pool of wetness to gather and dampen the cotton. His lips never left your chest, mapping out your entire torso and leaving you with faint purple marks littered throughout your body. The finger circling your pussy was now solely focused on your clothed clit, eliciting louder moans from you as you squirmed and writhed underneath him.

"Sam..." You whined, overly sensitive to all of his touch. He looked up from your chest, and the look on your face... pink, puffy cheeks, lust-blown eyes, painted lips divided as you panted...

He basically growled, yanking his hand back out of your pants. You would have protested, if that hand wasn't joining the other two seconds later in hooking around the loops of your jeans and yanking them down your legs, discarding them at the same speed he had discarded your bra. He took his own hoodie and, in yet another swift motion, yanked it off effortlessly over his head. He unbuckled his belt and shucked his own jeans off in a way that made you wonder just how many secret powers vamps had- seriously, the speed was inhuman- leaving you both in underwear. He looked like he was about to devour you whole, biting his lip and staring down at your body like he was hunting, and was milliseconds away from going in for the kill. You had never really seen him so... hungry.

"Fuck, baby..." He mumbled lowly, reminding you that he could, in fact, speak. He ducked down and connected your lips again, this time pushing his tongue past your lips and exploring the rest of your mouth and his hands ran through your body, squeezing every curve and edge. Your tongue danced with his, and you could taste the irony flavor of blood that lingered from his previous meal. His hands were unrelenting, feeling you up and down, calloused fingers feeling up your plush breasts causing you to moan into his mouth. When you pulled away, his hand had wandered down to his waist, and had pulled his thick cock out of his boxers. His eyes never left yours, dark and lidded as he pumped himself a few times and coated his member with pre cum. As he prepped himself, his free hand connected back to your core and pushed your soaked panties to the side, causing you to hiss as the cold air hit your bare core.

You watched in anticipation as he lined himself up to your entrance before he gently pushed in, causing you both the moan as you became impossibly full. His forearms planted firmly by your sides as your back arched, hips bucking forward as your body reacted to his length. His pace started slow for all of ten seconds before he was slamming in and out of you, pornographic sounds filling the room as his patience thinned and ran out. You moaned and whined underneath him, his pace causing the bed to slam into the wall behind you and your tits to bounce with each thrust. His eyes were fixed on your neck again as it was completely exposed and straining while your head was thrown back in pleasure. Maybe you could've been mindful of his 'situation', but when he was railing you at superhuman force you weren't exactly thinking about anything else but the firework building in your belly.

While his cock was still buried in you, he leaned down and started kissing your neck, marking you with hickeys that became more and more deep as his hips snapped at a unrelenting pace. His teeth ghosted your throat, pointed canines pushing lightly into the soft, thin skin. He wanted to bite so, so bad that the mere thought of sinking his teeth into you was consuming him.

"So fucking pretty, I just wanna..." He growled, turning his neck to the side and painfully pulling himself away from your vulnerable neck. Your heart was racing from all the stimulation from his lips and dick, and you were nearing the edge fast.

"Fuck, I-" You couldn't finish the sentence, instead opting to bring your hands to his back above you and dig your nails into his flesh as he rammed into you. He groaned at the feeling, once again fighting his urges and pushing his forehead into the crook between your neck and shoulder.

"Cum for me." He hissed out, drawing you closer and closer until the firework building in your lower tummy exploded, causing your walls to tighten around him and cause him to finish, too. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your nails digging even more into his back as your body shook from the high. He whimpered into your shoulder, allowing himself to catch his breath and soften inside you, trying to calm himself down from all the physical restraint. You both laid there for what could've been minutes, just regaining your breath and recovering. When he finally pulled out of you, he rolled onto his side and stared at the roof, reaching over blindly to brush hair out of your face.

You leaned into his gentle touch- different from his desperation from moments ago- and smiled, almost laughing before breathily stating, "Your stamina right now is... Do we have to change you back?"

He rolled his eyes before looking back to your lidded eyes, watery from all the stimulation, a blissed-out smile dumbly lighting up your sweaty face. His annoyance instantly melted into admiration as he slowly peeled himself out of bed to get you both cleaned up.

"Uh, yeah, we do."

↳ a/n: my first post on this account- yay! did i see nosferatu and instantly get re-obsessed with vampires? ... yeah ... maybe... but anyways hope you all enjoy <3 to everyone who came from my other account @mizutsugi, thank you lovelies! i am so excited to keep posting here :) gonna go to bed and manifest vamp!sam now, night night

[ohsc]

₊˚⊹♡ letting you | sam winchester x reader

a/n - this might be the fastest i’ve ever written a fic??? it’s pure filth so that might be why but LMAO, i love love love the idea of soft dom sam sm he melts my brain, hopefully this is good!! getting back into writing after taking a break from being sick bc my brain wouldn’t work. special thanks to my friend who helped me brainstorm the delicious idea ilysm !! <3

cws - fem!reader, 1.6k, nsfw 18+, softdom!sam, sub!reader, cockwarming, masturbation, praise, kinda unedited

other fics can be found on my masterlist

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The only thing she could hear was Sam’s soft breathing, and the soft tap tap tap of his laptop keys behind her.

If she paid close enough attention, she could hear the way his shirt rustled when he moved his arms, the soft fluttering of book pages being turned, but her focus wasn’t really attainable, it was slipping through her fingers with each excruciating moment that she was sat there.

Sam shifted in his seat out of a pure intention to get comfortable, and his cock nudged deeper inside of her wet heat, dragged a soft gasp from her lips, which just earned her a soft “shh, honey” against the shell of her ear.

It had been her fault that she was in that position in the first place. She’d been a little too needy with Sam when he was trying to research, and on her third attempt at trying to initiate a — much needed, mind you — make out, he’d grabbed her hips and tugged her into his lap facing him. His voice had been a little stern as he told her to pull his cock out, and the tone of his voice alone had her cunt clenching around nothing as she quickly did as she’d been asked. She knew that voice, she’d had it in her ear most nights, whispered against her throat, against the plush of her thighs. It meant he was in control.

Sam had sat back from the library's table for enough time for her to pull his cock out and pull aside her panties, sank down onto him with a soft moan, but before she could move he grabbed her hips tightly, kept her still.

“Don’t move,” he’d dipped his head down and kissed her throat, pulse fluttering beneath his lips. “Stay there while I finish up and I’ll take care of you after, hm?”

If she was feeling a bit more bratty she would’ve whined or complained or just moved anyways, but his voice in her ear and his hands on her hips had her head spinning, so she just nodded and tucked her head against his throat as he leaned over her to continue what he was doing, completely focused, as if he wasn’t buried deep inside her pussy at that moment.

That had been twenty minutes ago.

It was becoming torturous.

Sam was unfairly skilled at keeping composed. He was also unfairly skilled at winding her up. Those two went hand in hand, it seemed, because each second that passed just worked her up more and more. All she could focus on was the warmth of his body pressed to hers, his cock nestled deep inside of her, the lack of stimulation. When she’d came out to the library with her attempt at bothering him, she’d craved a genuine release, not this.

Her hips shifted slightly and she squeezed her eyes shut, huffed out a soft “Sammy” against his throat when that slight movement was enough for her pussy to throb around him.

“Stay still.” He murmured without as much of a look in her direction. She glanced up at him and his eyes were locked forwards, pupils shifting left to right as he read whatever was displayed on his laptop screen. Tap tap tap, more pages turned, more reading, rinse, repeat. He was killing her.

Barely a minute had passed before she made another soft sound against the warm skin of his throat, lips brushing his neck, “Baby please-”

“My hands are busy, sweetheart,” his voice was so nonchalant it drove her up the wall. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

Her eyes squeezed shut as she huffed against his throat again. “Can you just take a break?”

“No,” he shook his head. “No, I’m almost done, you’ll just have to wait,” he tsked, a hand briefly pet her hair, the touch so light it was like he was purposely depriving her of any stimulation. “If you’re that needy, you have two hands of your own, baby. Sort yourself out until I’m finished with this.”

She released a shuddered breath against his throat, squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. It wasn’t the answer she’d wanted.

“Hey,” one of his hands came up to the side of her neck and he pressed his thumb against her jaw, tilted her head back until he could meet her eyes. “I told you I’d sort you out once I finished, didn’t I?”

She nodded, bit the inside of her cheek.

“So isn’t it nice of me that I’m letting you get yourself off in the meantime?”

Letting you. Her cunt throbbed again.

“Yeah.” She whispered.

Sam leaned down and kissed her, just a soft little peck, and somehow it just riled her up more. “I’ll be done soon. Go ahead and sort yourself out for me, sweetheart.”

He let go of her jaw and moved his arms to the table again, continued tapping at his laptop, and her eyes scrunched closed again as she tipped forward and rested her forehead against his throat. But she was so needy that she didn’t think twice about following his instructions. One hand stayed tucked at his waist, fingers curled into the soft material of his flannel, and her other reached between them and tucked under the material of her shirt, fingering at the waistband of her panties until she slipped beneath those too, and she was so fucking wet that she was undoubtedly making a mess of his jeans from just sitting there.

Her fingers dipped down, pressed against her clit, and she shuddered as the stimulation made her clench around his cock deliciously. She pressed her fingers forwards again, started to shamelessly rub herself, exhaled soft little moans and sighs against his throat.

Before she could do anything else Sam’s voice was in her ear again, “Quiet, sweetheart. You’re meant to be letting me work, don’t make me tell you to stop.”

Her jaw clenched as she exhaled shakily, eyes squeezed shut, and she huffed a breath against his throat as she took a moment to compose herself. Now that she’d started touching herself, it’d just be a torture to stop, so she just nodded against his throat with the intent to keep herself quiet.

It took a moment for her to settle on a pace. She was a bit too needy with it, her hand squished between their bodies, knuckles pressed to his hard muscles each time she shifted her hand, but eventually she settled into a pace that had her eyes rolled back and squeezed shut, the fingers of her other hand curled tightly into the material of his flannel.

She circled her clit with the pads of her fingers again and again, but it was the feeling inside of her every time her cunt clenched around his cock that made it hard for her to keep quiet. She was half tempted to bite down on his collar to shut herself up, but Sam seemed to be letting her get away with the slight gasps and whimpers that she couldn’t stop herself letting up.

It took an embarrassingly short time for her to get close — her forehead was pressed to his throat, hot breaths puffed out against his skin, trying not to shift her hips as she rubbed at her clit with a need that thrummed within her veins. Her jaw clenched and she held her breath, eyes squeezed shut tighter as she worked herself closer.

“Breathe,” Sam’s breath tickled her ear as he spoke softly. She had a tendency to hold her breath when she came sometimes if she was especially worked up — she didn’t even know Sam was paying attention. She took a shuddery breath, and he murmured a soft, “that’s it.”

It only took a few more circles on her clit before she came and she grit her teeth, huffed out a sharp breath through her nose as the feeling washed over her. Her cunt pulsed in pleasure, waves that kept her rubbing at her clit until it felt too much, and when she finally stopped she was breathing sharply against his neck. Her hand was a bit cramped, fingers wet, heartbeat drumming, but the release felt so nice after she’d been so worked up.

“Good girl,” Sam crooned, and she could’ve cum again at the tone of his voice. “Good girl. Did that help?”

She nodded against his throat, relaxed into his front.

“Yeah?” He asked. “Are you gonna keep still until I’m finished now?”

She nodded again.

“Baby,” she felt his hand smooth up her back until his fingers delicately tangled in her hair, only enough to pull her head back to look at him. “I wanna hear you say it.”

She blinked a few times up at him. He was so devastatingly handsome, it wasn’t fair. “I’ll keep still,” she mumbled, face feeling far too hot. “Promise.”

“Oh, you promise?” She didn’t miss the teasing edge to his words, the smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

She nodded again. “Yeah, Sammy.”

“Good girl,” he praised once more, and was nice enough to give her a proper kiss that time. It still wasn’t what she craved — she didn’t feel his tongue in her mouth, he didn’t kiss her until she went dizzy — but it was nicer and kinder than a little peck. “Ten minutes and I’m all yours.”

She settled back into his chest as he went back to work, comfy to just rest against him in her post-orgasm euphoria, happy to wait the ten minutes until he was finished. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d fucked her on the library table that week.

[prentissluvr]

dead eyes — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, hurt/comfort, established relationship, canon typical violence, blood, death, weapons, and monsters (shifter), reader has a panic attack, character death (in a dream), nightmares, crying, kisses, unedited, 2.4K words. requested !

summary : killing a shifter with sam's appearance scares you to the point of a panic attack.

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

his dead eyes. you shouldn’t have looked.

when you do, it feels like you’re being tilted on your axis, and your vision swims for a moment. his voice, though distant, brings you out of it. we should go find dean, he says, voice gentle like he caught a glimpse of the horror that flashes over your features. horror because they’re his dead eyes.

but it’s not over yet. there’s still another shifter in the house, and the adrenaline of an active hunt doesn’t let you dwell on it.

you had gotten separated, just like you said you wouldn’t, and when sam showed back up, you had to point your gun at him, you had to keep him at a distance. this proved smart when another sam walks in. your sam, you think, because he’s carrying the silver knife he took on the hunt today… and because it feels like him. but you couldn’t be sure.

so you kept your gun up and ready to turn on either one at a moment's notice, even when the mere idea of shooting sam, even a fake one, made you sick to your stomach. what if i shoot the real sam? you had thought to yourself in a terrified moment before your insincts kicked in.

you offered to test yourself first, slipping out your silver knife and cutting a thin line to prove to the real sam that you can be trusted. the shifter and sam stare each other down, and the one that you think is your real sam offers to test himself with his own knife. right as he brings the blade to his forearm, the other lunges towards sam, pulling out a long dagger and aiming right for the heart.

two shots rang out through the air before you could even think about it, and the shift dropped dead at sam’s feet.

now, as you find dean, just barely having killed the last shifter, you know that your instincts served you well, and saved both you and sam. but it had all happened so fast. the realization that there was more than one shifter, getting separated from the brothers, then the confrontation with both sams. your sam, who was calm and collected, but didn’t try to worm his way into getting you to trust him. and the shifter, who wore sam’s face and played with you.

he had insisted he was the real sam, he had chosen to confuse you. sure, to buy himself some time… but you think it was for the pure entertainment of it too. that’s exactly what the shifters had done to their previous victims; posed as their loved ones, but turned violent and angry until the victims tried to hurt or even kill them in self-defense. then they'd guilt their victim for trying to hurt someone they love. and then of course they’d kill them, with their loved one’s face as the last thing they see. they were a violent, messed up pair of monsters, and you’re glad to be rid of them.

but they got to you too. maybe you are their final victim, because sam’s voice saying please don’t hurt me keeps replaying in your head. then there’s sam’s body falling to the ground, blood pooling under him so fast and his eyes open in death. 

it wasn’t sam. you know it wasn’t sam. but in the car ride back to the motel you’re overwhelmed with images of his dead body anyway. and the fact that you had to point that gun at the real sam because you couldn’t be too sure. looking down the barrel of a gun and sam being at the end of it… it just about kills you.

from his seat in the front of the car, sam knows that you’re struggling. he can feel it. your eyes on the back of his head, looking haunted when he glances back with a silent smile of reassurance. and he can’t even see your hands where they are, tucked into your lap, but he knows you well enough that it’s like he can physically feel the way they’re shaking. he wishes he could wrap his solid hands around your trembling fingers and rub your back to soothe your breathing.

he’ll have to wait until you get to the motel, and he’s thankful the drive is almost over. the silence of the car isn’t a comfortable one.

dean reads the room easily and takes to the shower the moment you arrive. before the door to the bathroom is even shut, sam pulls you into his arms, one hand wrapped around your shoulders and the other planted on the back of your head to keep you close.

“it’s okay,” he murmurs, pressing his cheek against you. “i know you’d never hurt me. you don’t have to worry about that.”

the way that he hand picks words and tone and volume for you, with ease and purpose and a complete knowledge of you, your heart, and your mind makes you melt into his hold. you mold to his body, you hug him back so tight, and you cry a few tears. just a few, because his arms around you are grounding and real and better than anything else you could ever ask for. you thought you might fall into a panic, let your anxieties and tendency to overthink things get the better of you. he fixes it all with a hug.

a hug and a love for you that compares to nothing at all. it’s like the way that he holds you and the way that he knows you, gently close the gaps where worry and fear and tears slip through. no stitches, no needle and thread, just soft bandages that hold you together.

⟢⟢⟢

you kill sam in your dreams. you don’t remember anything else. just what it’s like to point your gun at him and shoot with intent. what it’s like to press your hands to the bleeding wounds you made and see his eyes go still. you wake before you can close them with bloody hands.

you’re trembling and you don’t think you’re breathing quite right.

it’s just a dream. it was just a dream. none of it is real. you would never hurt sam, never on purpose. 

with a sharp twist of your neck, you look over at his sleeping form from your spot on the pullout couch. 

you share a bed much more often than not, but this motel is out of rooms with queen beds. last time you slept in a twin bed with him you almost fell to the floor even with him holding you close. that thought brings you out of it for a moment. but seeing him so still in bed is too scary for you to stay calm for any longer than that.

he’s fine, you think desperately. he’s just sleeping. if you could take the time to let your eyes adjust to the dark or see through the tears in your eyes, you’d be able to catch the rise and fall of his breathing. but you can’t.

you can’t even keep track of your own breathing as you stumble out of bed and towards him before realizing at the last moment that you don’t want to wake him.

so you put a hand to your chest and try to breathe as you turn around and make your way to the motel room door on shaky legs. the tears run and run like they can outpace the fear, maybe drown it, and you don’t realize how much noise you’re making as you fumble with the lock and the handle and the door that wasn’t this heavy earlier today.

you’re looking for the cold. the wind, maybe rain if you’re lucky. you’re looking for something to feel that’s not a phantom of your nightmares or suffocating guilt and terror. how could you even dream that? how could you?

and you can’t breathe, you don’t think that you can breathe as your knees buckle and you sit down hard on the concrete outside. it would hurt if you could feel it.

you squeeze your eyes shut and drop your head between your knees because you know somewhere in the back of your mind that you’re having a panic attack. but from your position on the ground and the intensity of your anxiety, it’s not enough. you gasp and gasp and can’t hear sam’s footsteps or your name falling from his lips until he’s right in front of you.

he doesn’t touch you for fear of startling you, but he says your name so soft and steady and worried.

“please look at me, honey,” he asks. sleep tints his voice, love colors it. “it’s alright. you’re alright. i’m alright.”

looking at him is hard because he’s already there, behind your eyelids and bleeding out. but he’s alright. that was his voice saying it, his voice calling you honey and maybe if you open your eyes and look up, he won’t sound so distant the next time he talks.

he’s in front of you. the sight of him sways a little, but he’s there and if you’re seeing well enough, he looks so concerned. so sorry and worried and a little helpless because he wants to bring you out of it and isn’t sure if it’s working yet.

but you hear him and you listen, and when he can see your eyes, it’s a little bit better. when you can see his eyes, it’s a little bit better. they are not open in death. they are alive and feeling and looking at you with love and pain and softness and sorrow. he’s so sorry that you’re so scared of hurting him.

“can you focus on me, love?” he asks, noting your distant eyes and faraway mind and wanting more than anything to bring you back to him.

like a miracle, you find out that you can. you can focus on his eyes, and then his voice, and then you see him holding a hand out in case you want something physical to ground yourself with. it’s instinct to grab his hand, to grip it and steady yourself with it like you have a million times before for a million different reasons. like when you got tipsy and wobbly or when you wanted to go home but you didn’t have one. when you missed him or when you twisted your ankle or fell in love. when you killed him in your dreams.

you still gasp for air and you still cry. but sam is there and that means you’re going to be okay. that means he’s okay, at least for now. he makes for now enough, and you’ll make sure that it’s always. i’ll protect him, you tell yourself. you’ll protect him.

but for now he’ll be the one to protect you; tonight it’s from your fears and the cruel tricks of your mind. he pulls your shaky form into him. he rubs your back and kisses your forehead and your breathing slows down. the air comes into your lungs and it stays there long enough to make a difference. you feel the cold and the breeze on your skin. there’s no rain, but the moon can be seen and it hangs over sam’s head. the moon reminds you of sam.

you walk yourself out of the panic attack without even needing him to ask you for five things you see or four things you can feel. he’s proud of you for it. of course, it’s his being there that helps you more than anything.

“that’s it,” he murmurs, “there you go. i got you.” he smooths his hand over the back of your head, soft and slow and sturdy. when your eyes flutter closed, the only thing you see is the imprint of the bright moon against your eyelids for a moment. the rest is dark and calm.

the fabric of his sleep shirt gets all bunched up in your weak hands. the t-shirt is soft and thin from wear and it feels familiar in between your sleepy fingers. it’s october. he’s probably cold.

i’ll protect him, you remember. your fingers loosen and the fabric falls away from your hold. it rides up and exposes his skin to the wind when you rub up his back. it falls back over the hem of his jeans when you rub down. you’re trying to warm him, but your hands are shaky and small compared to the expanse of his back, even smaller compared to the expanse of the sky.

for a moment sam isn’t sure what you're doing, but he smiles so sadly when he realizes. his heart aches with love and adoration.

“let’s get inside,” he whispers. you nod against his chest. he’ll be warmer inside. so will you. you might be shivering. he hoists you to your feet with steady care. your knees feel weak, but you hold his hand tight and walk back into the room. sam closes and locks the door, the guides you to his bed. he sits you down on the edge and crouches in front of you, wiping softly at your tears. then he leans forward and up to press a kiss to your cheek, then another to the spot between your eyebrows.

you fall into him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he accepts you happily. he rubs your back soothingly, lets you tuck your head into the crook of his neck. he holds you there until you sit up. he lets his legs go sore and doesn’t care about it one bit. you heave out a huff of breath and he cups your face, thumbing softly at your cheekbone. your hand slowly wraps around his wrist, then you turn your head to kiss the heel of his palm.

“let’s sleep,” you mumble against his skin. with a soft heart, sam obliges, climbing into the small bed after you. he bundles you up into his arms before pulling the covers over your warming bodies. he kisses the top of your head, letting his lips linger for a long moment before he rests his cheek against the same spot.

“goodnight, sam,” you whisper softly, voice still holding a hint of its earlier shakiness.

“goodnight, honey,” he echoes, voice just as soft and prettily hushed. he wants to say more, maybe another ‘it’s okay’ or sweet reassurance. he wants to make sure you know that he’s not afraid of you hurting him, that he trusts you and that loves you all the way. but he thinks you already know, and that you’re better suited for silence now.

he’ll tell you tomorrow.

[sammyluvr]

my hands are yours — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, hurt/comfort, angst, injury, canon violence, demons, possession, feelings of guilt, concussion, blood mentions, pet names (honey, baby), no y/n, not proofread, 2.8K words. requested !

summary : sam patches you up, ever guilty, after meg attacks you while possessing his body.

for parts of it, meg made him watch. she kept him conscious as she killed a fellow hunter, forced him to see parts of the encounter with jo and the punches she threw at dean. she went on a chaos-inducing, bloody spree with his body and his hands and she made him watch.

as for the worst part, meg had spent a long while debating how to make it as horrible to sam as she could. does she make him watch the whole while? show him glimpses? or keep him in the dark only to find out later what his hands have done.

she decides that any option would do, so she chooses the in between. for just a moment, she grants sam the sight of you, bloodied and bruised under his body, red on his hands. then it goes dark.

✶.◟

the second sam wakes, finally in control of himself and rid of meg, he’s disoriented. he looks at dean, then bobby. and for some reason you’re not in the room with them.

“sammy?” dean calls out, nose bleeding and bruises starting to form on the side of his face. it all comes back to him and he scrambles to stand up.

“where are they?” he breathes out, panicking already. neither dean nor bobby has to ask who you’re referring to.

bobby shrugs. “they weren’t answering the phone. we didn’t have time to find them before, ya know, you and that demon fucker showed up.”

“dammit,” sam curses, searching his pockets for his phone. he calls you with shaky hands; you’re on speed dial. bobby and dean watch with concern and sam’s face crumbles when you don’t pick up. neither question when sam crosses the room on quick, unsteady feet to grab the nearest computer. he types furiously, and they figure he’s tracking your phone. sam pays them no attention, none at all when he finds your location, or grabs the keys to the impala or rushes out the door.

he doesn’t make it to the car before dean stops him, stumbling a little from all the pain when he grabs sam’s wrist. sam whirls around and almost shoves dean before remembering that he’s injured. instead, sam pulls away easily.

“they’re hurt,” he practically growls, but there’s a hint of pleading behind the aggression.

“exactly,” dean counters, “you’re too freaked to drive.” 

sam looks dean up and down with a quick flick of his eyes. “i’m fine. you’re worse off than me, just– just keep calling them. so they know it’s really me.”

according to your phone gps, you’re only twenty minutes away. halfway through the achingly silent drive, his phone rings. he picks it up in a panic when he sees your caller id on the screen.

“baby?” he breathes into the phone, chest tight and eyes already teary.

“sam,” you sigh out. he wishes your voice weren’t distorted through the phone, but he’s sure he must’ve heard you in worse shape before. you’ve got to be alright, based on the way you say his name. “dean called me.”

“yeah.. it’s me, honey.” he swallows thickly, his fingers tightening around the wheel. “fuck, i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry, baby.” 

“i know,” you whisper, sounding tired. that frightens him. “but it wasn’t you. it really wasn’t you. i know that now, and i knew it then. you gotta remember it wasn’t you.”

sam has to really focus to keep his eyes on the road. he has to blink away tears so that his vision is clear enough to drive safely. luckily the dark highway is almost completely empty. he can’t manage a proper response to your reassurance, so he changes the subject.

“honey.. where are you, baby? the map doesn’t show anything near you except the road.” he’s apprehensive as he asks, afraid to hear the answer despite already knowing it. you cringe softly, knowing too that he won’t like it.

“i’m in my car,” you murmur. you’re sounding more and more tired the longer he speaks with you. “on the side of the road.” sam doesn’t know what to say to that. it sends a pang through his chest. he doesn’t know exactly what happened, but he can imagine it. he can imagine meg finding you, cutting you off on your way to bobby. calling you and telling you to pull over; you haven’t heard that he’s possessed yet. you think it’s him on the phone. you wait just a minute for him on the side of the road. she pulls over next to you and comes out. most likely, you throw yourself into his arms, worried sick. he can imagine the way you’d cup his face and check him over, asking where he’s been.

then he imagines that meg says something subtly horrible to you. your face twists in confusion. then meg gets really mean. talks like him and tells you he doesn’t really love you, and that’s when you know it’s not him. that’s when she hurts you, beats you into the grass on the side of the road. sam knows that part because, in the glimpse that meg gave him, you were lying in the green, little flecks of red decorating the grass and blending in with dirt. and your eyes weren’t open

so you must’ve woken, mind fuzzy with pain and alone and rattled after seeing sam be the one to beat you until the work went dark. and that means you crawled or stumbled however you could, back to your car. he wonders how long you lay in the grass. how badly she injured you, how much it hurts right now. 

he comes back to you. “okay,” he whispers, voice taut and pained. “i’m coming to get you. i’m… i’ll be there soon, baby. just stay awake til then, okay?”

“i know,” you mumble. “i won’t fall asleep.” a soft pause. well, soft enough for you, but stiff and unforgiving to sam. “how long?”

“just under ten minutes now, honey,” he assures you, cursing silently at the way your voice slowly starts to reveal to him your state. it’s weak and tired and tells him that you’re missing him, wanting him closer, wanting his arms around you. you’re still seeking his comfort.

he can’t bear to hang up the phone, even when neither of you really have anything left to say. or really, anything that’s left you can get yourself to say. for you, it’s because you’re running out of energy; sam’ll feel so horrible, but you’re starting to think his fists to your face a couple times has given you a mild concussion. and for sam, he can’t get the right words out. everything gets stuck in his throat. he knows you don’t want to hear apologies from him, because none of it was his fault. but he’s guilt ridden and a little panicked because you only talk when he softly calls your name through the phone just to be sure you’re awake.

when he finally spots your car, it takes everything in him not to speed up to an unreasonable pace. but he peels off to the side of the road with a screech of tires and a worse than haphazard parking job. you’re in the passenger’s seat; you didn’t even try to make it to the driver’s. the door of the impala hangs open as sam runs straight to you.

he feels sick when he opens your car door, crouching down and reaching with sorry hands for your bloodied face. you look at him with soft eyes and a tired smile that he feels he most certainly doesn’t deserve. his stomach lurches at the sight of your blood and bruises and exhausted limbs.

“hey, honey,” he murmurs the second the door is open and you can hear him. “i’m here, it’s me, baby. i’m so sorry–” his fingers tense up just centimeters from your face. it’ll hurt if he touches you there, so he drops them to cup the side of your neck and shoulder. even then, his touch is feather light, as careful as he could get. “i’m sorry.”

“please don’t be,” you whisper back, just as softly, not as sadly. you’re just glad to see him, comforted to have him back. “don’t be sorry.” you watch him, soaking him and in presence. there’s no fear, no hesitation, no worry to have him close. his knuckles are split from making you bleed, but all you’d like to do is kiss them better.

the absolute trust and unadulterated affection that you watch him with could kill him. he knows that, logically, he’s inculpable in the crime of making you bleed. but he can’t seem to convince himself of that. he’s very sorry, and he’s sorry for that too, because he knows you wish he wasn’t.

“alright,” he breathes. “let’s get you out of here. bring you back to bobby’s to patch you up.” he almost moves to scoop you up into his arms to carry you to the impala, but thinks better of it. instead, he leans in and presses a kiss to an unbruised spot on your forehead. your eyes look a little unfocused and it frightens him. “gonna park the impala, i’ll be right back.”

“okay,” you sigh. admittedly, you don’t know exactly what he means in your hazy state, but he says he’ll be right back, so it is okay.

sam only takes the time to park and lock up the impala because dean would kill him otherwise. he makes it a quick job, and slides into your car’s front seat. the keys aren’t in sight when he glances around.

“baby?” he calls softly, meeting your eyes. you’re already watching him with sweet eyes. you had let out a little gasp of pain when turning your neck to look at him. “do you have the car key?” 

you blink and stare at him for a moment. then you give a quiet hum. “mhmm.” your hand isn’t too shaky when you reach into your jacket pocket and pull your keys out. he reaches right out to gently take them from you so you don’t have to move any further.

“thank you, honey,” he murmurs. he sets the keys in the cup holder, then twists in the seat to get as close to you as he can. sam grabs the seat belt and pulls it across your chest, buckling it and carefully rearranging your arms to be a bit more comfortable. his lips brush over your tender cheekbone, and your eyes drift closed for a second. oftentimes, he kisses you on the cheek or the forehead before bed. your lips too, of course. but it’s not time to sleep yet, so you set your hand on his and give a little squeeze before letting go.

his jaw clenches a little when your hand moves away. he doesn’t want to have to do anything but look at you. look after you. he’d much rather watch you than the road. to be sure your eyes don’t droop too much, in case you come to a bump and it jolts you and causes any pain.

sam settles for driving with one hand on the wheel and the other holding yours. you play lightly, weakly with his fingers and it makes his heart ache. he thinks about the way he can feel his heart pound in his chest. it feels different after being possessed, but he doesn’t think he could explain how.

loving you is the same, though. the fact that his heart pounds and pounds for you doesn’t change one bit. you’ve always made him feel like that saying of one’s heart leaping from their chest could really come true.

he has to softly implore you not to fall asleep a few times during the drive. he’s convinced now that you’re a bit concussed, and it terrifies him. no, it horrifies him. that the force of his hands could do that to you. and yet you affectionately fiddle with his fingers like you trust him more than anything.

sam is so soft when he draws you up onto his arms, not bothering to close the car door as he carries you to bobby’s front door. he winces when your cheek meets his shoulder and all the jostling causes you to gasp a little in pain.

and at the door, he pauses for just a second, only because he hates to raise his voice above a comforting murmur around you right now. but he has to be loud enough for dean or bobby to hear him. then the door swings open before he makes a sound, and he sighs in relief. they must’ve heard your car as it pulled into the gravelly driveway. sam ignores them both as he carries you straight to the spare bed, cradling you close and hating having to let you go, even when it means you’ll be much more comfortable on the mattress.

“there we go,” he mutters, half to himself once you’re settled. he feels dean hovering in the doorway, so he turns and tosses him the keys to the impala. “the car’s at the coordinates i left up on the computer,” he says simply, not waiting for any sort of acknowledgement from dean before turning back to you.

he finds the nearest first aid kit, drags up a chair, and commits himself to being the softest he can for you. a hard life has toughened his fingertips, but they are gentle as they erase the blood from your skin and spread ointment over your cuts and bruises. his voice is tender and quiet as he bandages you and says things like i love you and sorry, for the sting of alcohol. his lips are sweet on your forehead. 

“does your head hurt?” he asks softly, already preparing a few pills for the pain. he’s been working in partial darkness to not disturb you.

“yeah,” you answer through a huff of breath, too out of it to lie. your head pounds.

“okay,” he whispers. “we’re gonna have to be real careful. you might have a concussion. so i’m gonna have you take some painkillers, then get lots of rest, alright baby?”

“yeah. feels funny,” you slur quietly, not even sounding upset or anything. just tired, maybe even pleased because you’ve got sam fussing over you in the sweetest way possible. sam’s jaw clenches, but he indulges your tone because you’d rather he not worry so much.

“funny, huh?,” he says as though he’s smiling softly at you. his eyebrows give away his frown, though. “can we sit up for a second to take these pills?” you’d really rather not, so you give him a little pout. you’re just so tired. that look on your face, a little grumpy and stubborn, shows him that you really are a little fuzzy in the head. it’s adorable, certainly, but concerning to him just the same. he slides an arm under your shoulders, leaning over you so that your head lolls lightly onto his shoulder.

sam makes sure you don’t have to exert an ounce of effort to get you up; you lean fully against his body to stay upright. if you thought about it hard enough, you’d certainly be capable of holding yourself up, but he doesn’t give you the chance to have to think about it at all. you’re comfiest like this, so you’ll stay that way. if it didn’t hurt your head, you’d peer up through your eyelashes to catch a glimpse of his pretty face while it’s so close to yours.

he brings his hand to your mouth, tapping your chin gently when you don’t react accordingly. “open a little for me, please,” he whispers. you follow his instructions, just a bit mindlessly because he makes it easy to let yourself be taken care of. he places a pill on your tongue, then grabs a water bottle and brings it to your lips. it takes you two tries to swallow the pill, but the second one he gives you goes down a bit easier. “there you go,” he murmurs, carefully lowering you back into the bed. his big hand cradles the back of your head before settling you into the pillow.

he watches your eyes drift closed before he’s even said the words, you can rest now. his hands find yours.

the hands that hurt you weren’t his. this, you know. the hands that love you and patch you right back up are his and only his. so you hold them over your stomach when he’s done with it all and, eyes still closed, mumble, “i love you. i love your hands, sam.”

the hands that hurt you weren’t his. this, he has trouble accepting. the hands that love you and patch you right back up are not only his, but yours too. so he lets you hold them over your stomach when he’s done with it all and tells you, “they’re yours, honey. ’m all yours.”

[studiogrimm810]

Speak of the Devil >Finding You // part 1

pairings/characters: (established) sam winchester x gn!you, dean is also there

summary: you are taken by lucifer for over a week and sam damn near looses his head. when you are finally rescued, the trauma of what was inflicted on you has left it's mark and it's up to sam and dean to keep you put together

warnings: torture, ptsd, flashbacks, abduction, graphic depictions of said torture

word count: 4,571

A/N: soooo, i had this idea come to me in a dream but also i'm just obsessed with trauma bonding lolol,,i've realized that this idea is too complex (and comforting) to just do once/one part so i think i'm going maybe work on a part 2 or maybe even a part 3 (eventually) for this one as well...okay, thats all, thanks for reading my rambles!!! <3

read other parts here

———————

The nights were the hardest for Sam, everything so still, calm, settled- it made him itch. He ached for you, but there was only so much he could do.

Dean was in auto-pilot, trying his damnedest to get any info on your whereabouts but he always came up short.

All either of them knew was that Lucifer had you and that was enough to make Sam sick to his core. He knew damn-well what the devil was capable of, he spent over a century learning of just that, so to think of the person he loved succumbed to even a fraction of that made him irrational.

It has now been over a week since you were taken and the boys are finally following up on their most helpful lead at the moment, pulling up to an empty hospital in a desolate neighborhood of Denver.

The building was a classically looking rundown hospital- windows shattered, paint chipped, doors broken in. The sight made Sam’s skin crawl. Usually, he wouldn’t be so affected by the sight of an eerie building but to think this is where you’ve been all this time rots his insides.

Sam takes the lead on this one, wasting no time to break through the front doors and let his eyes scan through the halls. Dean doesn’t say a word as he just lets his little brother storm the halls. He does make sure to be extra vigilant, hoping to catch anything Sam might miss on accident.

They make their way through halls and up staircases, ducking into every room for any hint of you.

The maze of halls inevitably makes Sam’s internal compass spin haphazardly as he starts to lose his placing. Standing at the end of one hallway that spans out into two new hallways, he’s frozen. Dean almost bumps into him as Sam stands still, his hands shaking but body stiff.

“Sammy?” Dean tests, trying to peek around him to get a read on Sam’s face. “Hey,” he calls more sternly this time, placing a firm hand on Sam’s shoulder to spin him towards Dean. “Talk to me.”

Sam turns to face his brother, his features melted into complete helplessness and loss.

Dean knows this look all too well.

His baby brother needs him.

“I don’t know where to go- I don’t-,” Sam shakes his head, his glossy eyes darting between Dean’s own. Dean’s features remain stiff as he takes in his brother's pain, clenching his jaw.

“They’re here, they have to be, and we’ll find them,” Dean states, commanding it to be true. Sam’s heartbreaking contort of painful fear makes Dean’s fury build, to think that not only did someone mess with you, but also his baby brother. It was enough to fuel out just enough confidence to not break down for Sam. “C’mon, pull yourself together,” Dean barks after a reassuring squeeze to Sam’s shoulder, his support being physical and not vocal.

Dean now takes the lead, choosing to go to the right. Sam follows close behind, his breaths so shallow that he doesn’t think his lungs are getting the proper amount of oxygen, but it doesn't seem to matter to him right now.

Another series of halls and rooms digs a deeper pit of dread between the brothers, but Dean refuses to quit for his brother.

They make their way to a staircase that leads to the top and final floor of the building. This has to be it.

Dean sneaks up the stairs carefully, looking up the hall to see a beam of light coming from a room on the far end. Dean turns his head to look down the other side to see nothing out of the ordinary. He quietly steps into the hall and motions for Sam to follow and stay quiet and close to the wall.

When Sam sees the beam of cool light his stomach flips with hope. He could almost feel that it was you in that room.

Halfway there, the brothers hear voices and Dean immediately signals for them to stop.

“He’ll kill ya, I’m tellin’ ya,” a masculine voice warned, which was followed by a more feminine groan of annoyance.

“He would never notice,” the second voice counters, seemingly as a whine.

“Just shut up,” the first voice sounds completely annoyed and down with their partner.

Dean inches closer, step by step, until he reaches the doorway and leans in just enough to see two figures that the voices are coming from. One is sitting in a chair in the far right corner and the other is standing next to a bed while fiddling with a small dagger.

That’s when Dean sees you.

You’re neatly tucked into the bed, a clean and tidy hospital bed with icy white sheets draped over most of your body. Your arms are laid out on top of the blanket, one having a drip of some liquid stuck in your arm. Your face is completely peaceful and devoid from any discomfort.

Dean presses back into the wall and looks at Sam, giving him a curt nod and signaling to get ready. Once Dean gets out his demon blade, he checks to make sure Sam is ready and then he attacks. Storming in and grabbing the farther guard, pressing the blade to its throat and scowling up at him.

“Why did you take them? Who are you!?” Dean roars, keeping his face a stone of anger as he seethes. The man with the masculine voice under Dean’s hold just scoffs with a cocky smile.

“I’m just workin’ a job, bitch means nothin’ ta’ me,” he licks his teeth, sizing up Dean.

“Who do you work for?” Dean emphasized with a mocking sneer. Both him and Sam needed confirmation that it was actually Lucifer who took you.

“I’m not at service to tell,” the man exaggerates with a sarcastically snooty eyebrow raise, trying to sound smart and ‘proper’.

“Too fuckin’ bad,” Dean wastes not time stabbing the man deep through his chest and watching as the skeleton underneath flickers like an electric surge of burnt orange and yellow.

Sam is quick to pin the demon he has to his chest so that Dean has a clean shot to her chest as well, killing her in the same fashion.

The body’s slumped to the ground with smoke rolling out of their mouths and eyes as their corpses are now just an empty shell. Neither brother cares to give a second glance since you’re still hooked up to some IV drip and completely unconscious.

“Hey, hey,” Sam coos, gently cupping your face in his hands, already shedding a few free tears. “C’mon, baby, can you hear me?” Dean grabs the bag to examine it but can only tell that it’s a clear liquid with no labels or indicator. Dean reaches down and carefully pulls the needle out of your arm and presses a piece of the blanket underneath you to the small bead of blood that follows.

The most bizzare thing about this whole setup is the lack of physical evidence of anyone hurting you. The only blemish they could see was the small bruise that surrounded the mark of the needle that Dean just removed. Both of them thought that after you had been gone for so long you’d at least be somewhat damaged, but why would someone take you just to keep you asleep in some abandoned hospital?

What was the purpose?

Somehow this was more terrifying to Dean.

Sam still hadn’t really taken the time to look you over or assess your situation, he was too busy with trying to wake you up.

“Sammy, they’ve been drugged, they’re not gonna wake up just yet,” Dean said softly, realizing Sam needs this moment, “we need to get them out of here.”

Sam sniffles and nods softly, not taking his eyes away from your closed lids.

“Can you carry, ‘em?” Dean asks, looking over his shoulder to make sure they’re still alone.

“Yeah,” Sam’s voice comes out hoarse, his shoulders burdened with worry and ache deep in his chest.

“C’mon,” Dean urges, turning to keep a lookout while Sam gets you situated. Thankfully, you’re fully clothed underneath but Dean avoids you both to preserve your privacy.

As Sam peels back the blanket he’s especially relieved that you’re still in the same clothes he last saw you in, somehow you looked even neater though. The shirt you wore had always had a small tear at the bottom hem but you refused to stop wearing it- now that tear was gone. So were the scuff marks on the knees of your jeans and even your hair looks silkier than usual.

He tries to push away any reasoning of why you seemed pristine.

He instead scoops you up and tucks you close to his chest the best he can, placing a soft kiss to your forehead and following Dean out. He murmurs soft reassurances and praises to you even if he knows that you can’t hear him, he still hopes that you can.

“You’re okay now, I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he kisses you again, keeping his eyes ahead of him and darting around to make sure there are no immediate threats to you.

Sam doesn’t let go of you even when they get to the Impala, even when he and Dean settle on making it a straight shot back to the bunker. Sam doesn’t care if he gets uncomfortable or too stiff because he cannot let go of you, even if he wanted to.

He settled in the car to still have you placed in his lap, arm still cradling your back and other drapes over your legs, holding you close and keeping you secure.

Dean steals glances back at his brother, Sam has barely looked up from you. Occasionally, a few tears fall and Sam will start sniffling, but then it fizzles out until he’s completely silent again.

Hours of driving and you’re still not even responsive and that continues to make Sam sick but he shoves those feelings down because he has to focus on getting you back in your bed at the bunker.

That’s his next step, getting you set back up in your own bed.

That’s all that matters right now.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he’ll always remember the way that Dean beckons him awake- his voice softer than Sam has ever heard him before.

And that makes him feel a little worse, if he’s being honest.

Sam settles you back up in his arms and cradles your stiff body out of the Impala. He blindly follows Dean, now keeping his eyes down on you, silently praying that you’ll just wake up already.

Once he gets you completely settled in yours and his shared bed, an overwhelming sense of dread washes over him.

“Please, baby,” his words interrupted by a stifled sob and he reaches a hand up to cover his mouth, “just wake up,” he begs softly, pushing some hair out of your face and running his thumb over your cheekbone.

He would wait by your side until you finally did just that.

———

White hot. A rod of white hot pierced your stomach for what felt like the hundredth time. It twisted, wrapping your intestines up like a fork in spaghetti. You scream out in pure agony, your eyes lolling open to look down at the rusted pipe that’s lodged in your abdomen. You cry out, biting your lip and sobbing at the sight of your blood dripping out of the end of the hollow cylinder.

Your stomach looked like a pile of ground meat, flooded with blood and singed skin, the stench flaring your nostrils.

You see a hand wrapped around the exposed end and you follow it up to see burning red eyes staring back at you with a hungry smile.

Lucifer himself had subjected you to his torture for what felt like weeks and you were starting to give up any hope at being rescued.

He pulls out the pipe and flicks your blood off the pipe with a laugh that ripples up your spine like clawing bites. He spins his other wrist and just like that the pain is gone- your stomach completely patched over with fresh, unharmed skin.

He pulls back the pipe to hover it over an open flame and then he moves it to leave rings of burns along your exposed skin.

The pain- it’s too much, it’s too much.

You tug against your chains, hoping it’ll just come loose and unravel you out of this nightmare.

As you look back into the Devil's eyes, everything seemed to fade around the glowing red, like a light at the end of a tunnel. The eyes merge into one beam and they slowly dissolve into bright white.

The sounds of his laughter echo and the hold of the chains wrapped around you loosens.

You feel heavier.

You feel… awake.

Your head is strictly iron weight, keeping your body pressed into the soft cushion beneath you.

Soft.

It’s actually soft and you could cry.

Warm.

Oh, it’s warm too. Your fingers instinctively curl into the sheets under you, holding on tight so that you don’t float away from this sliver of paradise that Lucifer has seemed to slip you in.

You refused to question his methods because the peace you felt- no, the bliss was definitely something you’d take advantage of.

You hear your name being called and the sound spikes you out of your trance and sends your heart out of your chest.

There’s some rustling sounds and your name is called again and you feel absolutely hopeless. You can’t go back, please- please. You just got here, you just started to feel okay.

A large hand cups your face and you snap your head away with a sharp inhale, pushing past the heavy weight in your bones and letting your adrenaline surge your movement.

“Woah- hey, okay,” the voice says softly but you don’t even entertain it with patience. You get your eyes open and look around the room quickly. Upon realizing your hands are free from chains, you sit up and hold them to your chest, wrapping your wrists with your own fingers to bind them protectively. Your hair falls in front of your eyes and you refuse to move your hands away from where they feel safe so instead you try to flick away the stands so that you can see.

Your heart is racing and ears ringing, disorienting you further. You barely recognize the eyes staring you down- Sam?

Your chest heaves with frantic breaths as you stare up at him, back pressed to the bed frame behind you. You look around and see that you’re in your room at the bunker.

What? Is this real?

Sam freezes at your reaction, holding his hands out trying to reassure you that he’s not a threat.

“H-hey, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Sam nods, keeping his eyes glued to yours. You make no effort to move, this all just feels wrong.

You look around the room to find you’re both alone. Where’s Dean? If this were real, wouldn’t he be here too?

The door creaks open.

Speak of the… too soon.

Dean's head peeks in to check on Sam but he becomes fully alert when seeing the urgency of Sam’s stance.

“You’re awake,” Dean breathes out relieved, wanting to progress further and hug you but as he takes one step too close your back presses further into the wall behind you with a small whimper.

Your whimper cracks away at Sam’s chest.

“What-?” Dean starts to say but he can’t finish the thought.

“Honey, it’s just us, we’re not gonna hurt you,” Sam shakes his head, letting his eyes look over you for any signs of physical distress.

You swallow thickly as you look between them, a lump building in your throat as you try to choke back a sob. You continue to look around, unable to comprehend where you just woke up from, was it all just a dream?

“A-Am I dreaming?,” you breathe out, your voice unsteady and wavering. Sam and Dean share a quick glance but Sam returns back to you with a frim shake of his head.

“No, sweetheart, you’re awake, this is real,” Sam assures, tilting his head down to keep his eyes level with your unsure ones.

“Awake?” You echo, letting your eyes flick down a bit as you try to gather your thoughts. You look back up at him.

Him.

“S-Sam-.”

“Yeah, baby, it’s me,” he nods, wanting to inch further but too afraid that he’s going to scare you further, but the way you break down- slumping against the wall- he can’t help himself. He reaches out for you and wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close.

You unhook your binding hold on your own wrists to wrap around his neck. He just lets you cry as he rubs a free hand up your back.

“You’re okay, sweetheart, you’re okay,” he murmurs into your ear. You pull away to look at him again and let out another sob- this one of pure relief. You smile up at him, barely believing this is real but know that deep down it really is.

“Sam,” you exhale, holding his face in your hands so you can really feel him. “H-how did you find me? Where even was I?” You question, wanting to know why the transition from Lucifer’s torture to this felt like waking up from a bad bad dream. 

“Denver, we found you in Denver,” Sam explained, smoothing down some of your hair and appreciating your waking form with every flicker of his senses. “You were kept in some room and had been given medication to keep you asleep, I don’t know how long you’ve been out but we found you almost 20 hours ago,” Sam’s face saddened at the memories but forced those away to focus on how you’re right in front of him now.

“What? I’ve been here for almost a day?” You ask, brow pinched in confusion. Sam nodded.

It didn’t make any sense, you JUST saw Lucifer.

“What about… Lucifer.?” You ask, almost whispering, “where is he?” You asked, starting to feel on edge. You push away from Sam enough to look behind you and all around.

“Woah- okay, you’re safe. Lucifer isn’t here,” Sam says, startled by your sudden shift.

“N-no, he’s here- he has to be,” you stutter, your hands starting to shake and you instinctively bind your wrists to your palms again.

Sam swallows but keeps a firm hold on you, his own past trauma bubbling back up from its hidden pot that he keeps stashed miles away from his regular train of thought. His mind raced through the thousands of scenarios that the Devil put him through and to think of you experiencing just one of them made his heart ache.

“Hey, no one but us is in this bunker,” Dean steps in, trying to be the face of reason for the two under his care.

“What happened?” Sam asked, not acknowledging Dean but just wanting to hear from you. You look up at him, trying to organize your thoughts.

“No,” you shook your head, backed away and rubbed your forehead with your hands, “No, he- I just saw him, he has to be here-.”

“Honey, I promise you that you’ve been here for almost a day and no one else has come through. It’s just us,” Sam explains, his hands on your thighs as he tries to continue to assure you that you’re safe.

“But I just saw him,” you whisper as if you can’t believe it, your eyes drift as you try to shuffle through your thoughts and memories of the past few weeks.

“You’re okay, I promise,” Sam says, keeping his eyes locked on you, “Are you hungry? Thirsty?” At the mention of food, your stomach growls.

You nod softly and Dean offers to get some food for you three, hoping that giving you two some privacy will help calm you down a bit.

“Thanks, Dean,” Sam nods at his brother, simply sparing him a momentary glance so that he can keep his focus on you. After Dean leaves, closing the door behind him, Sam asks you another question, “what happened during that week?”

Your confusion is evident as you bring your eyes back up to his, “week? Have I been gone only a week?”

“Yeah, well 9 days technically, but we found you without a scratch,” Sam explained. You could see the dormant fear of what the hell happened to you during that time, “the way we found you was as if you were being preserved.”

You shake your head, not completely understanding.

“No, Sam, he’s been torturing me- constantly,” your words tremble and you continue to rub your own wrists to keep yourself grounded. “H-he would hurt me and hurt me until he needed to erase it all to start over again, h-he wouldn’t stop,” you shake your head, your words spewing out like a fire hydrant cracked open by the ram truck of emotions that went at it full force, “a-and it was weeks, Sam, it felt like weeks and he wouldn’t stop,” you choke out, rubbing your wrists raw.

Sam doesn’t know what to say but he’s worried about the burn you’re giving yourself on your wrists so he reaches out to gently hold your forearms, hoping to separate your hands.

“Y-you’re okay, now, baby, you’re safe,” Sam tries to keep his composure, trying to be strong for you.

“Sa-Sam, the things he-,” you couldn’t even get the words out but Sam practically read your mind. He quickly pulled you into a tight hug, keeping his arms around you protectively. His insides tremble with a whirlpool of fear, regret, trauma, pain, love, and god- so much more that he can’t even focus on right now. But his bones refuse to let him shake, keeping a sturdy hold on the love of his life and hoping that it offers some sense of security or comfort.

“I know, baby, I know,” he spans his hands out as wide as he can to cover every possible inch of your back. “You’re okay, he’s not here anymore, you’re safe,” he lets his palm run up and down the top of your back, right over your spine, and usually this would calm you but once he got too close the nape of your neck you recoiled away, tensing up and refusing to let his hand meet the skin.

He has to force bile back down his throat because he immediately knows why you had that reaction. Something that Lucifer would do to Sam in the pit was grabbing the back of his neck and piercing the scruff to a hook in the cage. Lucifer would often tease the method by tickling up Sam’s neck and digging his nails into the skin, just the thought makes Sam dizzy again. Has Lucifer done the same to you? Sam thinks, forcing his hand back down the span of your back to hold the spots where he only felt safe being touched after his time with Lucifer.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your head. You continue to shake in his arms, trying to piece together why you and Sam have different explanations for your time missing.

You both stay like this for a while, Sam not wanting to let go and you not wanting him to. You end up tangled together on the bed in a peaceful silence. You really didn’t want to talk about what happened or really even think about why or how it did. You were more than content to be in Sam’s arms again, pressed to his chest.

The sound of the bunker door opening made you flinch, worried that it could be anyone or anything. Sam’s hold on you tightens softly, letting his fingers grip your hip a bit deeper.

“It’s okay, honey, it’s just Dean back with the food,” Sam's voice low and sweet. “Let’s go eat, hmm?” He pulls back his head to look at you better. You’re hesitant to leave the safety of your room but you’re crazy hungry so you nod and sit up. Sam keeps his eyes on you as you push up and go to stand. He feels like he needs to constantly keep an eye on you, afraid of what will trigger you out of nowhere.

The two of you meet Dean in the kitchen, Sam keeping his hand on your lower back to guide you through the halls of the bunker.

“Got you a bacon burger with all its greasy goodness,” Dean smiles, hoping his attitude can help lighten up the tension a bit. The small smile that blesses your lips rewards him of that.

Sam pulls out a chair for you, the side of the table that is closest to the corner of the room so you don’t have too much free space behind you.

Despite the hunger gnawing at your gut, you can only pick at your food. You eat a few fries and tear off pieces of your burger. Sam worries when he sees this, but he understands how difficult it must be for you right now so he doesn’t comment on it.

Dean has just polished off his food and Sam made it halfway through his before calling it quits but you’ve barely made much of a dent. Dean gives Sam a silent question, asking if they need to discuss anything now or if it should wait. Sam doesn’t honestly know, but due to how tired you already seem he thinks he’ll just help you to bed and talk with Dean later. That way they can come up with a course of action and recovery for you.

“Are you tired, honey?” Sam asks after wiping his hands with his napkin and setting everything aside. You nod, pulling your eyes up from where they’ve been planted to your plate while you ate. Your eyes plan to go to him but they land on a messy figure across the room with glowing red eyes and that same awful smile that’s burned into the backs of your eyelids. You jump back, your chair scraping the tile on its way to the wall behind you, you take a quick gasp of air and your fear fuels hot tears to your eyes.

Dean instantly looks back to where your eyes lead and so does Sam, standing to guard you from whatever threat it is you see, but they only see the far end of the kitchen where the stove clock flashes the time and nothing seems out of the ordinary. Sam snaps back to you to see you frozen in fear.

“Baby? What is it?” He asks, crouching down to your level and reaching out for your hands.

“H-he’s here, it’s him,” you stutter, gripping your wrists tightly again. Sam looks back out into the room to see absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.

“Who? Honey, there’s no one there,” Sam shakes his head, scanning over your face for any hint of what’s going on.

No, that can’t be right. You see him. You can actually see him. You drag your shaken eyes to look up over at Sam, mouth slightly agape and tears dripping down your cheeks, “y-you can’t see him?”

———————

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here