#Sam winchester x you

[deanangel]

Under Heavens Control

pairing: sam winchester x angel reader .ᐟ | minors do NOT interact

synopsis: heavens weapon and a winchester, both destined for something better, yet stuck with each other. unclean and full of sin they meet.

warnings: religious themes , mentions of blood and death (very briefly) , smut p!v unprotected sex (wrap it UP!!) , finger fucking , kissing , cumming inside , cockwarming (if you squint) ..

word count: 1.5k

THE air inside was thick and cold, restricting the amount of breaths one could take. the sound of screams evident in one's ears. crimson liquid staining the concrete walls, metal chains bounding one in place for eternity. despair and death overwhelmed anyone who dared to enter.

heaven to humans was the best place to go to in death. anything you wanted, you would have. it was sickening for you to think about honestly.

locked up and forced to do the angels' dirty work was how you spent your days.

being a weapon was all you knew.

there was no escape even if you tried, the other angels – your 'siblings’ – kept you on a tight leash, always finding a way to fix you when you malfunctioned. 

the children of god were pure, clean, and all things innocent. while you were none of those. rabid, dirty, sinful, and so on is what would be used to describe you. the first to go to war and the last to come back, blood staining your entire being.

you found solace in the ones like you; however, they never lasted long. always being taken away far too soon. warm hands cradle your face as if you were their pet, cooing softly that this is what you were made for. that you didn't need friends, only them. so you stayed, and never fought back. angels were the light, yet somehow you were the dark.

chained down and all alone is how you sat, until the faint sound of footsteps echoed throughout the halls. your breath hitched, awaiting whatever came your way. the voice of another rang into the cell. 

“we need you to go down to earth, a few souls are to be collected…early.”

the booming sound was opposite to the eerie silence you were used to. you knew deep down that this could be your chance to break free, escape from the shackles of heaven that weighed you down. but when push came to shove, you were under their control. trained like an animal, domesticated like a dog to bend to their every word.

watching silently as they unchain you, immediately jumping back like you'd attack. some dogs go rogue on their owners, they're afraid you may be next.

standing up with shaky legs you follow them, shoulders slumped and head low.

“make it quick, we don't need to waste anymore time.” the voice ordered, harsh and direct.

the sound of bare feet pattering against the floors filled heavens walls contrast to the usual heels and dress shoes.

eyes following your form as you trudge through the halls. the prayers of humans wash over you like a tidal wave, ears ringing as millions of voices flood into your mind. yet, you found the power to focus on one. his voice was calming, you could listen to it for all of eternity.

the wind cascading around your form snapped you out of your trance, wings almost failing to set you down safely onto land. it had been millenia since the last time you were set to go to earth. you were here last when lucifer wasn't the devil, instead he was a friend..

shaking those memories out of your head, you focus on the task at hand. 

collecting souls.

the human soul was pure and untainted, it held power that many wouldn't be able to wield. the more souls in heaven, the stronger it was.

it was your job to help make the empire better. it was a shame that they took the souls early, poor people. as an angel you didn't have empathy, but you liked to pretend you did when regarding humans.

the names were engraved into your brain, programmed into your software. that's how they kept you sane. taking you apart and rebuilding you once you showed signs of rebellious behavior.

the suns harsh rays beat down on you; however, it wasn't uncomfortable. the heat was better than the cold dark room you were kept in. taking souls was a rather simple job, but not when the soul was him. the man whose prayers you zeroed in on while in such a weak state.

sighing you made a choice, he would be last. and then – hopefully – you would've gotten over the nagging feeling in the back of your head that he could save you. get you away from their judgmental gazes and harsh orders.

you didn't want to do this, you were an angel. why you? why not capture a demon and make them heaven's pet. 

instead god chose you.

did he get off on this? one of his children being used and crafted to be as vile as the devil himself. it was his sick and twisted way of entertainment.

you didn't dwell on the thought much longer. ‘make it quick.’ repeating in your head over and over. making your way around the world, taking each soul in swift and precise ways.

here you were, standing in front of him.

sam winchester.

his brown hair framed his face perfectly, his entire being ethereal under the moonlight.

from what you'd been told, he was somewhat like you. being injected with demon blood as young as 6 months old, watched and manipulated by demons it was sad really. your hand came down onto his face gingerly. caressing his soft skin with care. a warm feeling filled your body, engulfing you in a blanket of comfort.

sam stirred slightly in his sleep, eyes opening to look up at the figure standing before him. a warm glow emitting from them. their presence was calming, lulling him to slumber. yet, he knew better than to fall for the trap of the supernatural.

“shh, you're safe. i'm here to help.” you cooed softly, copying the way you were spoken to. hand coming up to stroke his hair. he grabbed your wrist to stop you, his touch didn't burn like others did. instead it felt right.

“who are you.” he questioned, his voice rough and hoarse from his previous sleep. your heart fluttered and the warmth came crashing down–harder this time.

“i..i'm here for your soul, sam. heaven's orders.” you couldn't help but admit, something inside you compelling you to do so.

like he had greater control over you than god, than heaven.

his grip tightened and he sat up, bringing you closer to him with a slight tug.

he was beautiful, so beautiful.

sam couldn't help but stare in awe at you. your beauty was unmatched, like a rose in a field of weeds. you stood out. he could tell you didn't want to, he felt something pull him to you. he fully knew that you wouldn't hurt him when he brought his other hand to your face, running his thumb over your bottom lip. his heart melted when he heard the hitch in your breath at his actions.

you were laying with him, soft moans leaving your now swollen lips as he pumped his fingers inside you. your nails dig into his forearms as he lay behind you. “sam..” his name rolling off your tongue like silk. your back arched, deepening his fingers. “just like that, sweet girl..” he whispered into your ear, edging you on. his long, thick fingers hitting that sweet spot everytime. your hips shuddered and bucked against his as your orgasm came down over you.

sam continued his relentless pace as you came down from your high. chest heaving and pants escaping your mouth breathlessly. “y'so good f'me.” he whispered as he brought you closer, slipping his cock into your tight cunt. his arms encased you, but unlike heavens hold it wasn't cold nor painful, it was warm and brought great pleasure. you whined at the feeling of him stretching you out, juices coating his cock until he bottomed out. he kept a slow and torturous pace, keeping you still with his hands so you couldn't move.

“please, please!” you let out, pleading loudly for him to go faster. he gently caressed your hips, his thumb tracing circles into the skin.

soon the sound of skin slapping filled his room, your moans and his grunts echoed through the walls. anyone within a mile radius could hear what was happening, and he nor you cared to mind.

you gripped onto him tighter and so did he, his hold on you was bruising. pushing himself as deep as he could, he came. a warm sticky substance coated your inner walls. tears were streaming down your face. he stayed inside, tugging you so you were facing him, bringing your lips to his in a searing kiss. it was passionate and full of love, not dark and hungry.

you and sam were connected, bound together. not by heaven but by the duality of man.

you were more bad than good, and he was more good than bad. yet, you found solace in each other. both born to be weapons.

one got away, while the other stayed under their holders control. but, that would not happen again, for sam was yours and you were his.

heaven had no control anymore.

authors note: hiii everyonee! this is my first sam smut so please lmk how you feel!! comments are appreciated. i hope its okay because to me its not the best but i had to get it out of my head!!

[wendichester]

Hear me out

Soft smut with Sam for the first time since reader gave birth to their baby

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ baby momma,

summary. the first time in a while ୨ৎ

pairing. sam winchester x mommy!reader

wordcount. 524

notes. i wanted to bang my head against a wall, because sam is so precious. i can't for the life of me ever stop loving this man

The house is quiet, save for the faint hum of the baby monitor on the nightstand. Your little one has finally fallen asleep after a long day, and the peace of the evening feels like a balm to your soul. You stretch out on the bed, exhaustion pulling at you, but it’s a good kind of tired—the kind that comes from love and care.

Sam steps into the room, his tall frame silhouetted by the soft glow of the hallway light. He’s already in sweats and a plain t-shirt, his hair slightly tousled. There’s something about the way he looks at you that makes your breath catch—a mixture of love, admiration, and a spark of something deeper.

“You’re still awake?” he asks softly, sliding into bed beside you.

“Barely,” you admit with a small laugh, turning to face him.

His hand reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His touch is gentle, reverent, as though he’s afraid to disturb the fragile calm of the moment. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

You roll your eyes, though his words make your cheeks flush. “I’m just doing what any mom would.”

“No,” he counters, his voice firm but tender. “You’re doing so much. Taking care of her, taking care of me… You’re incredible.”

You look away, embarrassed, but Sam tilts your chin back toward him, his hazel eyes locking onto yours. “I mean it,” he says softly.

The sincerity in his voice melts something inside you, and before you can second-guess yourself, you lean forward, pressing your lips to his. The kiss starts slow, sweet, but there’s a quiet intensity behind it, a hunger that’s been simmering beneath the surface for weeks.

Sam’s hand slides to your waist, pulling you closer. “Are you sure?” he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and full of unspoken questions.

You nod, your fingers tangling in his hair. “I’m sure.”

His lips find yours again, deeper this time, as his hands trace gentle patterns along your sides. He’s careful, as though he’s hyper-aware of your body’s changes, but you tug him closer, reassuring him without words.

“Sam,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly as his kisses trail down your neck.

He pauses, looking up at you with those soulful eyes. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he says softly.

“It’s perfect,” you reply, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions flooding through you.

The rest of the world fades away as he moves with you, every touch and kiss filled with love and reverence. He takes his time, his focus entirely on you, as though nothing else exists.

It’s not just about physical closeness—it’s about reconnecting, about rediscovering each other in this new chapter of your lives. And when you finally collapse into his arms, your breaths mingling in the quiet of the room, you feel a sense of peace that goes beyond words.

Sam presses a soft kiss to your temple, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “I love you,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

“I love you too,” you reply, your head resting against his chest as sleep begins to pull you under.

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[sammyluvr]

✶ blabbermouth — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, talkative!reader, hurt/comfort, insecurity, unedited, 845 words. requested ! for my 900 followers event [ closed ] .

prompt : under a street lamp + “i’m right here, you know. i’m right here.”

sam pulls you to stand up with both hands. you’re not really sure why, and don’t notice that he’s pulled you under the orange light of a street lamp. he’d found you sitting on the curb in the dark, in the chilly almost-autumn air. and you haven’t gone far from the motel, but he’d still been worried when he got to the room and you weren’t there. he gets paranoid sometimes; he had burst out the front door. he nearly ran down the street until he saw your silhouette hunched over in a patch of darkness.

at first, he sat with you, but he hates not being able to see your face very well, so he gently pulls you up and into the light. it casts your face in warmth, and you look a little teary. he expected it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t send a pang through his chest. so before asking what’s wrong, he pulls you into a soft hug. you melt into him, but your shoulders retain some of their tension.

he parts, though his hands linger for a moment. “what is it?” he asks quietly. the bare skin of your arms are a bit cold to the touch. “you cold?”

you shake your head, “the wind is nice,” is all you can manage, followed but a stretch of quiet. a car rolls past, no music or voices floating out of the cracked window. there’s just the sound of tires on the road as your eyes leave him to follow its movement until you can’t crane your neck any further. then you’re forced to look back at him, knowing you haven’t answered his first question.

“sam… do i talk too much?” you ask, voice quiet for once and undeniably insecure. you hate the way it sounds, but you can’t bear to take up much space right now.

“mm?” he almost calls you babe, but catches himself at the last moment, “what are you talking about? of course you don’t. you don’t talk too much at all.”

you’re not convinced, unfortunately. he knows so by the way you don’t meet his eyes. “i just feel like… i feel like people get annoyed. and– dammit,” you curse under your breath, probably the only one bothered by your apparent inability to keep your mouth shut. you have this silly urge to come across as composed, maybe even a little mysterious for a bit of intrigue. but it never works, and you’re just always talking. even now, you can’t stop yourself from telling sam exactly what you’re feeling. “and– and sometimes it makes me worried that people won’t want to be around me because of it. i mean, no one likes a blabbermouth. even now i can’t seem to shut up.” your voice grows frustrated, almost aggressive at yourself. you wish you could keep it down, but you can’t even manage that.

“hey,” he quickly interrupts before you can say anything else self-deprecating, “don’t say that,” he says firmly, tilting his head to try and get you to look at him. “you’re not a blabbermouth, alright? and there’s nothing wrong with talking a lot. no one wants you to shut up, so don’t say that.”

“dean does,” you mutter bitterly. his hand twitches, as if trying to seek out yours to hold it tight. he frowns, so you explain, “dean gets annoyed. i know that he thinks i talk too much sometimes.”

“it doesn’t matter what dean thinks,” sam insists, “he’s an ass, you know that. doesn’t mean he wants you to stop talking.” he doesn’t even like saying the words ‘shut up’ in reference to you.

you frown back at him. “it matters to me,” you stress, “and what about bobby? and–”

he cuts you off with another gentle, imploring, “hey. i’m right here, you know. i’m right here.” that finally gets you to look him in the eye. you’re looking at him like you’re not sure what he means, but that you’re hoping for something. so he keeps going. “doesn’t it matter what i think about it?” he asks at a murmur, “i like how much you talk. i like– i like to listen to you. i don’t want you to stop. you could never annoy me and you could never do anything to make me not want to be around you.”

you eyes widen at his words. why does he have to say it like that? like he loves you, maybe. not just like he thinks you’re a great friend, and he wants to comfort and reassure you because of that. you struggle to respond. 

he notices and his hand drifts up towards your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheekbone. “okay?” he murmurs.

to that, you can nod, the movement a bit halting and your eyes still teary. it means a lot to hear those words, but it means everything to hear them from him. “okay,” you whisper back.

“good.” he pulls you back into his arms, and presses a gentle, but firm kiss to the side of your head.

[studiogrimm810]

Dreams Come True

pairings: (pining) sam winchester x gn!reader, dean is kinda there

summary: the brothers request your help with hunting a djinn and after being under its manipulation, you realize you can't ignore your feelings for sam forever

warnings: angst, graphic depictions of crime scene images, open but happy ending, unspoken feelings

word count: 5,138

A/N: i don't know how to write shorter stories. pls send help, thx

———————

As you pulled into the parking lot of some dingy diner you scanned the area in search for a particularly sparkling Impala that stood out like a sore thumb. Upon the confirmation of the vehicle, you knew Sam and Dean were waiting for you inside. It had been a few months since you'd last seen the brothers and it caused a low churning in your stomach, a sickening curl to your intestines that made you nauseous. You love the Winchesters, you truly do, and you would drop everything if they needed a hand like now, but your problem was in fact that you loved one specific Winchester a touch too much. It was exhausting.

Ever since you could drive, you have been on your own. Your parents weren’t much help to your development, and honestly the only real reason you’re as functioning as you pretend to be is because of your Uncle Rufus who stepped up in raising you. He kept an eye on you when his brother failed but you had always had a sharp sense of independence. So, the second your uncle's friend, Bobby, fixed you up a car to claim as your own, you were gone.

And you pretended it didn’t hurt when Rufus didn’t put up a fight.

The forced and minimal choices of your life lead you to be fiercely independent and taught you not to rely on anyone for a thing. You had your own car, your own way of living, and your own set of personal, strict, rules that you follow to a T.

Rules that come so close to being bent in the presence of one, Sam Winchester.

You force yourself out of your car and through the parking lot to the lightly rusted doors smudged with greasy finger-prints. That’s it, next time you get to choose where you and the boys meet up. Surely the food here is good, and the waitress who is taking Sam and Deans drink order looks kind enough, but being on the road most of your life leads you to have a distaste of cheap and greasy spots where their healthiest item on the menu is probably the tomatoes that top their hangover burgers.

Sam and Dean have sat on the same side of the booth and they both smile warmly as they spot you enter the diner. The stale but warm air laced with french fries and left over maple syrup from breakfast washes over you and your mouth waters at the thought of a sweet dessert topping that’s become socially acceptable first thing in the morning.

Eh, maybe this diner isn’t so bad.

Making your way to their delicately selected booth, your stomach twists in a tight knot again at the sight of Sam. A beautiful splitting smile that cracks his face to allow little beams of whatever the fuck makes him so stunningly happy at this moment is partnered with a trademark dimple threatening to suck you in and never loosen up. You smile back at both of them.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dean beams as he and Sam stand in unison to greet you. Dean hugs you first, a firm grip that’s a little too tight because he knows you can handle it and he doesn’t really want to help himself. “Missed ya,” he pulls away to ruffle your hair and you try to glare at him while swatting away his hand but you can’t wipe off the smile these two have infected you with.

Sam is next, wrapping his strong arms around you. “Been too long,” he utters out with a slight groan that often accompanies a hug like this, but maybe it’s also because you can tell he had more to say. His arms are big and encompassing, wrapping around you like a cloak that shields away just enough of the outside hustle and bustle to let it just be you two in this moment. It’s so protected and safe in this moment that you can’t help but reply with an equally weighted echo of, “too long.”

After warm hugs that seem to stop time, the boys sit back in their spots and you take the roomy booth opposite of them. Dramatically stretching out your arms, you shoot them a sly but innocent smile. “Good choice in table, boys. ‘S comfy,” you yawn involuntarily.

“Glad you’re livin’ it up, your highness,” Dean teases, tapping the table idly as the waitress returns. You control the attitude threatening to manipulate your face as Dean gives the poor woman googly eyes masked with a quite dashing smirk.

After a harmony of simple orders, the waitress smiles out of obligation for a tip and heads to her next table.

“How’ve you been?” Asks Sam, and damn him. He just has to keep watching you with eyes that are warmer than the coffee Dean insisted on having this late. You settle in your seat, leaning back and running your nails along the beveled edge of the table.

“Good, same old, same old,” you shrug. It really has been quite boring with you recently. You worked a case a few states over, then picked up a few odd jobs to rake up some money again to get you through another case.

“How’s the Toyota?” Dean looks out into the lot for your white sedan parked across the lot. It had been an inside bit between the two of you, he liked to tease you for sticking to such a confident opinion that your little ‘match-box car’- as he coined it- was in fact a more comfortable and reliable ride than his baby. You really didn’t have such a strong opinion, but for the way it ruffles his feathers, you’d die on this hill.

“As good as ever, and grandpa?” You tick your head to the 40 year old car in the lot. Dean clutches his chest with an offended inhale and twisted look of hurt at the Impalas nickname, gifted by you.

“Immoral,” Dean’s face is straight with a flash of cocky know-it-all holding his chin high.

One day you’ll admit that the common denominator between the two cars would most definitely be the servicer of Singer Auto Parts. The man performed miracles on any old hunk of metal you took him.

“Okay, okay, put the measuring tape away,” Sam chuckled, enjoying the bickering between you two. Dean bit back a ‘they started it’ and just took a far too big gulp of his coffee to shut himself up.

“How ‘bout you two? What made you call me out here tonight?” You ask, looking out the window that overlooks probably 80% of the town that is really only a grocery store, a main street with a handful of vendors, and a couple other buildings that you didn’t take the time to specifically identify at the moment. Sam’s warm smile that tore all eyes from the moon cast high in the sky melts down to his polite not-so-fantastic-news smile.

“We’re tracking a Djinn,” Sam explains, pulling out a few books, topped with John's journal, from his computer bag. He sets out the books and snatches one specifically to flip through and turn for you to look at. You scanned the page: silver, lambs blood, poison, dreams? You had vaguely heard about Djinn before but you never really took them seriously. It was one of those creatures like fairies that just seemed so out of your league that you never put too much time or effort into researching it.

“Thinking it’s going along I-81, collecting victims where it can and bleeding ‘em dry,” Dean explains, his own expression turned serious as well. He tracks his finger along certain lines in the text that highlight an important note: ‘Djinn use a poison through physical touch to incapacitate their victims and keep them in a comatose state as they drain their blood over any given period of time. Djinn often give their victims a false reality that some describe as “too good to be true” to keep their bodies calm, stable, and comfortable in such a neglected state of being.’

“They feed on blood? Like vampires?” You ask, cringing slightly. Although you envision yourself to be a strong, smart, quick hunter, blood is your downfall. You make a point to avoid vamps by yourself for this very reason and the boys know this, so they must really need help if they’re asking for your assistance in a case like this.

“Kinda, yeah. Same diet, different harvesting,” Dean shrugs, making the connection for you that makes you want to gag. You force down a few sips of water to settle the tickle in the back of your throat before continuing.

“So how are you tracking this thing? Like how do you know someone has been its victim?” You ask, wondering what the physical proof left behind on a person was inflicted by such a creature was. Sam shuffles through the stack of literature, pulling out a dull, manilla folder and setting it in front of you.

“It’s sloppy, doesn’t clean up after itself at all,” Sam’s hand rests on the top of the folder, holding it closed so that you don’t open it too fast. “It leaves its victims strung up,” Sam explains, removing his hand but still watching you with a silent warning at the contents behind this thin veil. You open the folder and immediately cringe, your head turning to look away but your glued eyes prevent you from turning too far. The first image is a young woman, probably couldn’t even legally drink, with her wrists tied above her head. She’s dirty, bruised, decayed. An IV still connected her neck to a metal frame next to her that would supposedly host plastic blood bags. “Some Djinn passively feed, others drain to save for later.” You swallow thickly as you realize the IV was to rid her of her own blood.

The thought is sickening.

The image is beyond words.

But you persist. Your now unsteady fingers reach to flip the image, finding a police report behind it. The woman was 19- just a girl. Your chest aches, this really is the hardest part of the job- the loss. Her name was Amani and she was going to college for journalism. She was reported missing when she didn’t show up for her editorial meeting on campus. Her boyfriend reported it. Her parents followed up. There was an image attached, from her and her boyfriend on Valentines Day. She looked so happy and so full of life.

You close your eyes to get a hold of yourself. You swallow down your emotions, opening your eyes again to flip the pages again.

The next picture was of another woman, displayed in a similar manner. Her blonde hair stained with rotted blood and you almost mistook her for a brunette. Smeared makeup lined her vacant eyes and a beautiful necklace rested along her clavicle. Turning the page, you learn this woman's name was Eliza, a 39 year old mother of four. A portrait framed a lovely family. She wore the same necklace and you assume it was a gift from her husband who stood tall and proud next to her.

You closed the folder, unable to take in any more. You nodded lightly, looking between the boys. “I’ll help, just tell me what I need to know,” you state. The hardest thing about this job was also your biggest motivator. Preventing this awful fate from befalling another innocent family.

You felt that it was too late for your own chance at love, life, happiness, but that it was now your responsibility to make sure that was an option for as many people as you could save. You felt it was your one true purpose.

This was something that Sam admired about you, your relentless need to help others. To use your knowledge for the betterment of others. Yet, it was still something he wished you were more selfish with. He could tell the effects that the stories and images of these poor victims had on you but you ignored your own limits and boundaries to fight for those who still stand a chance. It was a horrible hero’s curse, really.

Sam’s smile reassures you, even if it’s the sweet, pitying one that he offers those in distress, because something in the glint that shines in his eyes tells you a truth you want to ignore.

“We can kill it with a silver dagger dipped in lamb's blood. We just need the blood,” Dean pulls out his phone to check his messages. “Which is ready for us, courtesy of Frankie,” Dean tips up his phone as if to cheer. Frankie was another hunter friend in rotation, he wasn’t really someone you would team up with, but you’d accept his tools and supplies anytime.

Sam packs up his stack of books, stuffing them in his bag. “Dean has to drive out about an hour to meet Frankie, you and I can stick back and I’ll catch you up on the lore.” Sam offers, zipping his bag up and shoving it aside.

———

The rain outside was persistent, heavy, and unforgiving. You stood at the motel window, glaring out to your car getting a half-assed wash that it so desperately needs. After packing in as much Djinn knowledge as you could get, you and Sam decided to call it quits for the night and wait on Dean.

“So what’s the plan? Do you know how to find where this thing is going to be next?” You asked, turning over your shoulder to spot Sam who was cleaning up his gun, shiney metal parts lined neatly on a cloth next to him.

“We have a hunch, another woman disappeared from her workplace last night. Amani, the college student, was found in an abandoned greenhouse that no one used anymore on campus. The mother, Eliza, was found in some old stock room at the animal shelter she volunteered at. The woman who disappeared last night, Carmen, worked at a museum as a tour guide. There’s a ruined exhibits graveyard in the basement, I’m betting she’ll be there,” Sam explains, continuing to clean his gun. His hands flow in precise motions over the weapon, cradling it and caring for it like a delicate piece of glass.

“Are we checking it out tonight when Dean gets back?” You ask, moving to sit on the free couch that will end up being your bed. Sam glanced out the window that you no longer silhouette, checking for headlights, before returning to finish reassembling his gun.

“Yep, that’s the plan,” Sam nods, setting the pristine gun on his bedside table and putting away his kit.

Once he’s finished, he stays sat on the edge of the bed, glancing over at you as you pick at the tears in your jeans. You couldn’t get those images out of your head and you itched to save Carmen before it’s too late.

“How’re you feeling?’ Sam asks with kind words that don’t mean to pry but just to chip what he can. He knows how much time you spend alone on the road. You’re such a sheltered and lonely person but he doesn’t want that for you. Sam can see past the tough exterior and into the shell of just a person who craved to be loved and taken care of. He wanted to be that person for you.

“Antsy. Dean should be back by now, no?” You ask, continuously picking at your jeans but gazing out the window once more. Sam follows your lead, nodding in agreement but returning his main focus back to you.

“He’ll be more careful in the rain,” Sam explained, his soft eyes holding room for the tension he captures behind them. “The others had been missing for at least a week before they passed, we have time,” Sam assures, hoping that you don’t stress yourself out too much over this.

“Talk to Bobby recently?” Sam continues, missing the small talk that you two haven’t really shared yet. He can tell you’re more tense than usual, it’s like you’re distancing yourself. You look up from your knees, the messy pit that makes you sick stirring in you yet again as his eyes match yours.

“Last week, just to check in,” you said, offering a suspiciously less amount of information than usual. Your leg bounces against its prop on the coffee table before you.

“You can talk to me,” Sam urges, keeping his eyes on you as you dart from your knees to the window and then to him. You don’t know what’s with you right now specifically, but the tension of the unspoken feelings bubbling under your ribs is becoming a real bitch.

“Just a stressful few weeks, nothing I can’t handle,” you smile assuringly. He can see right through it, but he decides to let it go for now since the familiar rumble of the Impala growls outside, awaiting its two passengers. Sam lets out a defeated breath, standing and grabbing his coat and gun. You jump to your feet, ready to get this show on the road. You slip on your own coat and check yourself over to make sure you have everything you need.

“What’s a little more stress, huh?” Sam jokes sarcastically, making a mental note to keep an extra close eye on you. You scoff a dry laugh, leading the way to the Impala while Sam locks up the room. The ten feet to the vehicle being enough to soak halfway through to your skin.

“Fuckin’ rain!” You exasperated, sliding into the back seat and letting the comforting heat of the Impala warm you right back up.

“Tell me about it, can’t see a damn thing,” Dean complains, his wipers on full blast and his defroster bellowing a low hum through the car that you had to speak over.

Dean’s years and years of constant driving cause for good reflexed and skilled roadwork as he navigates the slick roads, leading you three to the main event.

After a pop-quiz and mostly dried clothes, Dean pulls the Impala around the museum and to the back entrance that neighbors cellar doors that lead straight down. Once everyone is caught up, loaded with the proper weapon, and ready to get soaked again for a measly few feet of travel, they pile out of the car and to the latched and locked doors. Dean skips the pleasantries of Sam simply picking the lock and just shoots straight through the already rusted metal.

Dean descends first, followed by you, and finished by Sam.

The room is inky black and thickly dank, the moisture almost making it difficult to breathe. Echoing drips of supposed leaks from the rain sing around the trio, making it nearly impossible to locate one specific stream. Dean kicks on his flashlight and you and Sam follow.

“Stay close, stay alert,” Dean instructs, going to look up a nearby hall while Sam checks a few closets and you scan the main area for clues. There are dozens of totes down here full with scrapped art supplies, broken furniture, and piles of betrayed books. Nothing is standing out, though, so you follow behind Dean who has progressed up the hallway. Sam watched both yours and his brother's backs.

A loud clunk echos from the opposite side of the basement but the echo makes it bounce around to the main room you three had landed in. Sam jumps to double check to make sure that behind them was clear and Dean retreats from the room to see what’s going on. You shrug at Dean's raised brow and progress further into the hall, taking the lead.

You turn down a corner to find an even longer hallway with more off-shoots that basically make this place a maze. You sigh heavily, dropping your light a tad and look back at the brothers who have closed the distance between you surprisingly fast.

“There's too much ground,” you whisper to them both. Sam’s face contorts into a ‘no way, don't even think about it’ but Dean's interruption stops Sam from speaking his protests.

“They’re right, Sammy, we’ll cover more ground,” he whispers, trying to reason with his brother, “just stay close, no more than shouting distance,” Dean lays it out like he’s your father, but you listen because you trust his judgement. At the moment at least.

You have a hard time being too far from Sam, though. Seeing the aftermath of the Djinns' torment makes the uneasy swirl in your stomach worsen, but this time it isn’t at the ball of nerves that Sam's presence tweaks, it’s the thought of him being strung up there like a piece of meat. You have to rationalize that Sam is a grown man. You have to take a deep breath and assure yourself that he can handle this. After all, it is him and his brother who invited you to this hunt. You were the novice here.

After scanning over a few rooms, you progress further down the hall, and the further you go, you start to hear it. Soft whimpers, like helpless cries, sirening you to a room at the far end of the hall. You know you should grab one or both of the brothers’ attention, but you can’t help yourself. The images flash again- desiccated husks of once lively people dangling like a crude ornament. This has to be Carmen and you have to help her.

Your heart races as you get closer to the cracked door that pours out the skin-crawling whines. As you turn the corner, there she is. You're halted for a moment, frozen as you take in her state. A poor woman with her hands bound above her head and a dried trail of blood staining her temple. She has a similar IV but she isn’t still like you imagined, it’s almost like she’s experiencing sleep paralysis.

The poison is running out. Sam told you about this, you remember. The poison inflicted by touch only lasts so long and the Djinn needs to come back to dose its victim again. The Djinn will be back soon if it isn’t stalking around already.

You really should’ve grabbed the boys’ attention.

It’s too late for that now, though. You fish out your pocket knife, flicking it open and approaching the zip-ties that cinch Carmen's wrists.

“You’re okay, I’ve gotchyou,” you murmur quietly, hoping to god she can hear you just a little bit. Just enough to know that she’s safe now. You look around the room, keeping an eye out for the Djinn. You support most of Carmens weight into your side, stepping cautiously back out into the hallway. You almost make it past the barrier but a low growl from behind you makes you jump.

The figure behind you is a dark frame, shadowy and devoid of any light under the glowing blue tattoos and beams of eyes. It’s like the creature is pure nothingness despite its veins of sapphire lining its figure. As it steps out into the light, moonlight floods in just enough that you can actually see past the light-polluted skin of what looks to be just man. Well, a man that’s almost eight feet tall and glowing like he just stepped out of the Chernobl blast.

Carmen starts to stir, muttering something incomprehensible, but you ignore it because there is no time anyways. You stumble back, the Djinn looming over you. You manage to set Carmen down gently enough to leave while you lead away the creature that lurks closer and you can tell it’s furious with you. You can see it in his eyes. The cool blue that should be a calming, and if anything- dull, color instead pierced through your chest like an alarming red. You take bigger steps back before flipping a table in your path and darting the opposite way.

The piercing metal followed by an angry growl was definitely enough to get the boys’ attention and startle Carmen to be fully conscious again. The brothers call after you, their words dying in their throats as they round the corner to see Carmen on the ground. Somehow, during your short-lived rescue mission, you managed to settle your coat over her shoulders. Sam instantly recognizes that it’s yours and while Dean quickly crouches to her aide, Sam flashes his light to the mess of a spilled table on the floor. A few paint bottles are still rolling along the cement.

“Dean, get her out of here, I’m going after them,” Sam says without looking Dean's way at all. This time it’s Deans protests that go unspoken.

—---

Freshly ground coffee is Sam's specialty after being gifted a gourmet coffee bean grinder for Christmas. Ever since then, he’s gotten up before you, just like usual, but spent the better half of his morning crafting the perfect blend of coffee that you got to taste test along with blueberry and lemon muffins that Dean and Cas brought last time they visited.

Your guilty pleasures usually starred your mornings, overly sweet breakfast items followed by way too much caffeine from many taste-tests, and even a special morning delight from yours truly.

Your mornings were the absolute highlight of your day and a great way to start the day too.

Comfortable footsteps climb the steps outside of your bedroom door, and soon, Sam’s large figure spills through the frame, filtering in like an early sunrise. Sunshine that is hopeful, trusting, blindly accepting of things to come. His eyes rake over your body that’s half out of the blankets due to overheating from the night and he looks along the sleeplines you have acquired on your thigh, up your hip, and stretching out to your lower back. Exposed, lush skin, calling him in like a lustful sin.

“Good morning, my love,” his voice wakes you up enough to smell the mouth-watering blend of fresh coffee and warm muffins. You prop your head up just enough to smile fondly at him as he sits on the open bedspace by your legs. He sets the muffin wrapped in a paper towel on your bedside table along with your steaming coffee.

“What’s the concoction today?” Your sleep-dampened voice makes Sam smile a bit brighter. His hand rests on your exposed leg, running his palm up your thigh, over your underwear and back down.

“I mixed some of that Brazilian blend with the last of the hazelnut dark roast,” he tilts his head so his face is level with yours, still running his lightly calloused hand up your skin, untainted from the survival of The Life. You hummed in delight from the goosebumps that blessed your silky skin and also in anticipation at the mention of one of your favorite flavors.

You close your eyes to stretch and Sam just watches as your body twists to land on your back, but as you go to sit up, his face falls into a grimace as his hand quickly comes up to pin you down. You’re fully alert now, heart racing.

“S-Sam.?” You test, unsure of why he’s acting this way so suddenly.

“N-No, don’t go, you can’t leave me,” he shakes his head, a heartbreaking expression painting his gorgeous face.

“I’m not going-.”

“You need to wake up!”

Another Sam echoes in your head, and your own face contorts in confusion. Your heart is aching.

“Don’t go, please,” the Sam that pins you down begs.

“Please come back to me…”

He sounds broken, scared, so lonely. You shake your head, shoving Sam off of you. He looks offended, hurt. But this isn't right. No, Carmen, The Djinn. No.

No.

The poison.

The facade.

No.

The poison.

“C’mon, you’re okay. You have to be okay,” roughly calloused hands run over your cheek, a thumb tracing under your eye. You’re dizzy and disoriented, but you already can tell that this is what’s real. This Sam is real. The fogginess in your ears clear up as the pattering of rain fills the noise. When you can pry your eyes open enough, you see Sam crouched in front of you. He breathes out a heavy puff of air, a soft laugh escaping his lips. An expression that is strictly joyous lights up his face like a guiding moonlight in the dead of night. The kind of light that exposes the danger of things, and the price at which they come.

It’s the kind of light that floods everything about your dream downstream, carrying away the silly scenario. The kind of life that people like you and him never get.

“You’re okay,” he repeats, but this time he believes it.

A crack of thunder lights up the sky. A shocking mix of light you don’t quite understand. It’s not a beacon you can fizzle down to some self-justifying reason because it’s just a simple flash of electricity. It’s a crack in the storm above. It’s not some metaphor to make you feel better about your choices. It is a singular bolt that shatters through the night sky, starting you because you didn’t expect it.

Just like you didn’t expect the man in front of you to be the man that he is. He isn’t some ignorantly blissful lazy morning, and he certainly isn’t some moody, grey reflection of light that pulls at your dread. He is simply the split second vein of light that came out of the nowhere storm that is your life. But unlike the crackle of light in the sky that disappears before it’s even heard, he’s not flickering away because he found his conduit that will house his stay.

It’s him.

It’s you.

And you realize that you’ve been a fucking fool.

You push up to hug him tightly, eyes wide and heart still racing.

“Sam.” His name blesses your lips for the first real time. This time you’re accepting it, you’re allowing it.

His arms secure you close and he buries his face in your neck, taking in your scent. You can’t pinpoint the exact moment the boundaries between you two broke, but you knew they were crumbled to dust by the way he held you.

One of his hands wrapped all the way around your back to rest against your ribs on the opposite side and his other cradled the back of your neck.

This wasn’t a hug out of just a close call, this was a hug that made up for lost time. It wasn’t just the rush of saving your life, it was the flood of allowing yourself to feel what you so desperately have been hiding for too goddamn long.

This was a brand new hug with murmurs of brand new names and a brand new set of rules for the both of you.

This was the start of you.

———————

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

[mrs-pondwater19]

The vibes my friend and I would bring to Supernatural seasons 1&2

Me

Her

When it's giving the obvious introvert and extrovert dynamic.

This was super fun to make and I now understand the hype of moodboards. Because now I wanna keep making more.

Thank you so much @legalmente-loca and @ultravioletrayz for the inspiration to make these. You both are absolutely wonderful 💖

[rainroses45]

۶ৎ Disease ۶ৎ

۶ৎdescription: What if Dean didn’t go to hell but Sam did…and he finds him a little sinner who knows exactly what he needs (Sam Winchester x Demon Fem!Reader) ۶ৎa/n: I love this song so much and i wrote this at 2:36 am and i barely finished decorating it..umm oh my friend bella is here and she says hi :) (NOT EDITED) ۶ৎsong inspo: Disease - Lady Gaga ۶ৎwarning: blood, chains, hell, sam is a bottom? does that count i don’t know, YALL BETTER THANK YOUR LUCKY STARS @lovelolaslove WAS NICE ENOUGH TO WRITE A NSFW SCENE CAUSE I WAS NOT (handjob you know the rest)

The room swayed like a phantasmagoria, everything around him distorted, flickering in and out of focus. His breath comes in quick, shallow gasps, his body trembling with the fever of longing. He's so close-he can almost feel her, taste her. The chains are still there, but they feel weightless now, like a distant memory. All that matters is the figure dancing in his mind, the phantom he can never escape.

"I could be the doctor," her voice purrs through the fog of his mind, "I could cure your disease, baby." The words are a soft coo. Promises laced with sin and dripping with his ecstasy. She is in his head now, tangled in his thoughts, her presence overwhelming him, teasing him, haunting him.

He's slipping, drowning in the delusion of her. Like a sailor being lured to a sirens call, his mind was wrapped around her waiting for her to take a bite out of him. Let her suck his blood up with a simple kiss, and devour him in a single gulp.

He jerks his head toward the sound of her voice, but all he finds is darkness. He reaches out-his fingertips grazing nothing but air. The room is empty, cold. The only sound is the rustling of chains, as he tries to reach his lady in red.

"Eyes rolled back in ecstasy..." her voice echoes again, but this time, it's just a whisper.

It's everywhere, pressing against him, suffocating him.

He can hear it in every beat of his heart, feel it in the thrum of his pulse. His body aches, feverish, desperate for her to appear. He can't see her, but he feels her like a flame licking at his skin, like she's all around him, just out of reach.

He moans, his body fighting against the chains, desperate to break free, desperate to be closer to her. "Please," he breathes, his voice low, hoarse.

"Please, I need you... cure me... cure me, baby..." His mind spins further, caught in the pull of the delusion that she's real, that she's right there, waiting to save him.

But she's not there. The silence is all-consuming, the room colder than ever. He shivers, eyes squeezed shut, as the words twist in his head.

"I can smell your sickness... I can cure your disease," she murmured her voice now a seductive, taunting hum. It cuts through his thoughts, cutting deeper, driving him further into madness. The weight of her words presses down on him, squeezing every ounce of clarity from his brain, until there's nothing left but the desperate need to feel her, to be healed by her love. To be fucked by her.

He opens his eyes, blinking furiously, trying to find her, but it's no use. She's not there, and yet she is, like a dark shadow looming over him. "Where are you?" His voice is shaky, filled with the quiet madness of someone losing their grip on everything they once knew.

"Where are you? Please... I can't... I need you..I need you to help me!"

The air is thick with the scent of him-sick, broken, desperate-and it's almost like he can taste the sickness in the air, feel it on his skin. But she's not there to save him.

Her voice is a whisper, soft and insidious, like a poison seeping into his bloodstream.

It wraps around his mind, pulling him further into the madness. Her presence is a weight on his chest, a comforting pressure he can't escape. A pressure building up way below his mind, a pressure so tightening it caused him to shift against the chains in need for some sort of friction.

"Lay me your desire," she purrs, the words curling around him like smoke. "I could cure your disease." The way she says it-cure-like it's more than just a word. It's a promise. It's a spell. It's everything he's ever wanted.

His body twitches at the sound of her voice, aching with the hunger for her touch, for the mercy she offers, even though she's not truly there.

His hands strain against the chains, aching to break free, to reach out and touch her. He's lost, consumed by this hallucination, and yet, somehow, he craves it more than anything, “Please..." he gasps, his voice barely a whisper, laced with longing.

"Please... cure me..."

She laughs softly, a sound that feels like silk against his skin, and her voice drops lower, more seductive, as though she knows exactly how to push him over the edge.

"If you were a sinner, baby," she says, each word dripping with promise, "I could make you believe."

The air shifts, and he shudders at the thought, imagining her fingers trailing over his skin, tracing the sins he's buried deep inside. She knows. She knows everything. He doesn't even have to tell her. She sees him. All of him.

"I know all your secrets," she breathes, her voice so close now, it's like she's right behind him, her breath hot against his ear. He turns his head, but still, there's no one there. His heart hammers in his chest, his mind reeling from the intensity of her words.

The silence presses in, thick and suffocating, as the delusion begins to consume him entirely. She knows everything about him.

Everything. His sins. His desires. The things he's hidden away in the dark corners of his soul. She's the one who sees through it all, who can make it all better, can make him whole again.

His breath comes faster now, erratic, like he's drowning.

She's going to fix him. She's going to cure him. All he has to do is let go.

"I'm yours," he whispers, his voice trembling with raw need, the chains rattling softly as his body shudders under the weight of her imagined touch.

"Whatever you want, I'll give it to you. Please... cure me... make me believe."

Her laugh dances through his mind, light, almost like a lullaby. "I already do, baby," she purrs, her voice curling around him like velvet. "I always have."

She knelt in front of him, her nails raking lightly against his chest, trailing down to hover just above his sternum. He tenses slightly, eyes filled with desperation, he watches her with lidded eyes, mouth slightly open, as she palms him through his pants, leaving him a pathetic mess.

“Please, please…” she smirks. “Please what?” She continues her ministrations and Sam feels as though he could tear through the chains keeping him from touching her if it meant he could get her to touch him more.

He whines slightly, “please touch me— touch me more, please” as he speaks her hands make there way into his pants, dragging them down, and she wraps them loosely around his cock, stroking until a steady trail of pre cum oozes from the tip.

“But darling, i am touching you, don’t be so greedy.” She tsks.

Sam is already shaking his head, “no—ngh— not enough, please baby please… i’m begging you” his temptation pouts playfully “oh alright, since you begged so nicely” her hands tighten firmly around his cock, tugging and twisting until Sam is a whimpering mess, his hips thrusting into her hands for more friction.

“Yea, you like that baby? like my hands around your cock?” Sam nods, beads of sweat dripping down the side of his forehead and he looks down at his little devil, watching the way she has a slight smile on her face as she strokes his cock. “I- i’m close baby, please..” she looks up at him, pouting. “So soon? that’s alright, come for me baby." She gave a quick kiss to the pink tip before increasing the speed, hand tightening around his tip, thumb gliding over it, and Sam?

Sam can’t take it anymore, he cums with a groan, eyes shut as if in pain though he is far from it. His cum splashes onto his chest. His body shudders as he comes down from his high. She watches him closely, movements slowing until she removes her hand, licking the remnants of what she did to him clean.

“Oh baby," she moaned. "I hope you got more in you cause you are simply delicious.” And oh- sweet lovely Sam prayed he did.

PLS GO SUPPORT MY FRIEND SHE HAS SO MANY DRAFTS OF ONESHOTS SO GO FOLLOW AND LOVE HER STUFF SHE IS AMAZING @lovelolaslove

[angelackless]

NEED SOMEONE OLDER

Professor!Sam Winchester x student!reader

SAM KNEW WHAT HE WAS DOING IS WRONG, but that still didn't stopped him from doing it. Being this close with one of his students? especially one as pretty as you? Sam was ready to throw away his job just so nobody will shame him more for being with someone ten years younger than him.

Not like you minded either, Sam was perfect in your eyes. All the boys that ever took you out could never even be at the same level as he was, but you two never acted on your feelings, well not untill now, when you knocked on his door on a friday night.

Sam opened the door and as soon as he saw you,in that pretty little red dress, your hair in a braid, fuck you looked so pretty. He opened his mouth to ask what you were doing here when he noticed your teary eyes.

"(y/n), what happened?" Sam pulled you inside his house, his hand stayed on your arm, his touch was gentle, you could easily pulled away if you wanted to "talk to me" he tucked your hair behind your ear

"I went on a date" you managed to speak up "and it was bad, he was rude and so obnoxious" Sam shaked his head and pulled you into a tight embrace, placing a kiss against your temple

"well, that guy must be freaking stupid if he can't act like a gentleman with someone like you" he said while his hand ran up and down your back, just slightly touching your ass every now and then "maybe you need someone older, princess" he continued "someone who can treat you like you deserve, someone who knows what to do and can satisfy you" someone like him, he though, but didn't said it out loud.

You raised your head up to look at him, your make-up was smeared and he could feel his heart breaking because of how broken and fragile you looked at the moment. "like who?" you asked, your voice came out shaky and quiet

"Like me" Sam said and cupped your cheek "I would burn the whole fucking world down if that's what you wanted" he brushed a tear away with his thumb "just give me a chance to show you that i'm better for you than those little boys" your heart skipped a beat at his words, and the next thing you know you pulled him into a deep kiss which he reciprocated almost immadetly and pulled you closer to him by your hips leaving no space between the two of you.

He was the one who broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against yours "so?can I take you on a date?" Sam asked while he caressed your side with his hands

"you can" you answered and nodded your head. Maybe it's wrong,but who cares?the heart wants what it wants.

[moonandst4rs]

"Oh, take me back to the start"

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Warnings: no use of y/n, platonic, gn!reader x Sam and Dean Winchester

A/N: Any feedback and requests are welcome !! This is another one of my c.ai bots, my username is @/Moon_And_St4rs if anyone's interested.

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Sam, Dean, and you sit around the war table in the bunker, the flickering light casting shadows on the ancient maps spread across its surface. You all sat in silence, lost in your thoughts, the kind of quiet that only comes from years of knowing each other so well.

Dean, leaning back with a beer in hand, was the first to speak. "Man, remember when things were simple? Just us, a few hunts, nothing crazy. No apocalypse, no cosmic disasters."

Sam smiled faintly, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "Yeah, I miss that. We were always on the road, but it never felt this heavy. You kept us grounded," he said, glancing at you. "Reminding us to slow down."

You chuckled softly. "I don’t know how I kept up with you two. But we did have some good times, even when everything felt like chaos."

Dean nodded. "Funny how back then we thought we had the world on our shoulders. Turns out, those were the easy days."

Sam sighed, leaning forward. "We didn’t know it, though. Always chasing the next thing, thinking that once we got through it, we’d be free."

"But that freedom never came, did it?" you added. "We kept moving, kept fighting… and somewhere along the way, we lost that simplicity."

The three of you sat in the quiet again, reflecting on the years that had passed. You had faced demons, monsters, even gods, yet it was the small moments you missed the most—the long drives, the late-night conversations, the fleeting sense of peace between battles.

Dean looked up at the stars now appearing in the sky. "If I could go back, just for a day, I’d relive one of those nights. No saving the world. Just us."

Sam nodded, his voice soft. "Me too."

You smiled, your heart heavy with nostalgia. "We had something special, didn’t we? The world was still dangerous, but we always had each other."

Dean raised his beer. "To simpler times."

You all clinked bottles, and for a brief moment, it felt like you were back in those days—just the three of you, and the world was quiet again.

[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

[inlovewhithafairytale]

POV: Dating Dean Winchester....

[s0urw00lf]

Love is in the air

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: you unknowingly give Dean another reason to fall deeper in love with you

Warning: complete and utter fluff and sam is a girls girl.

A/N: idk if anyone has done something like this, but I really loved it and I think it’s my favorite fic I’ve written yet. Also this isn’t proofread so if you see any mistakes please let me know. I wrote this at 5 am so I probably won’t notice any mistakes. Anywho hope you enjoy!!!

Today’s hunt had been a bust after you and Dean were tasked by Sam to be the cliche “couple in love” so that the envious love witch would target you instead of some other innocent couple.

So now you and Dean were in the impala driving back to the motel that happened to be about a fourty five minute drive away from the restaurant she was targeting.

The night was silent aside from the quiet music Dean had playing in the background and the light tapping of his thumbs against the steering wheel. Dean looked incredibly good in his suit and tie, a look you wish he’d worn more often.

To Dean you looked better than any angel that could grace his presence, when you exited the bathroom with your off the shoulder black form fitting dress and high heels that made your legs look like heaven, his knees almost buckled and they would’ve hadn’t it been for Sam who was there to catch him before he could.

“Hey dean?” You asked softly, drawing his attention from the empty road to you, replying with a ‘hmm’. His green eyes were extra bright in the darkness and made you want to melt in your seat.

“Can I roll down the window?” You asked, it was an odd request on your part, because you usually don’t like the pressure the harsh wind puts on your head. Dean eyebrows rose in surprise before answering “f’course sweetheart, sure it’s not gonna make your head hurt?” he asked sincerely

You shook your head “no it won’t be for long I just… want to try something” you said, pausing in thought you hoped that the feeling would push away the sadness you felt. He nodded glancing back at the road, “okay then go for it” he said with a smile.

You clicked the button to roll down the window and felt immediately relaxed. You put your arm out of the window, closing your eyes and let the wind blow on your face and whistle past your ears.

Dean watched with love in his eyes at how relaxed you looked, he could tell that the your failure to obtain the witches attention had bothered you but decided against saying anything, but as soon as the wind hit your face its like all that sadness slipped away with the wind.

You sat like that for a minute or so before deciding that was enough, you opened your eyes looking for the button again before an idea struck you. You paused in thought ‘would that be too cliche’ you asked yourself, but ultimately you told yourself ‘who cares, do it’ so you did.

You surprised Dean when you stuck your torso out of the window, he immediately grabbed on to your thigh in case you accidentally slipped. You raised your arms as the wind that was way stronger whipped past you, the air was sticky which you’d guessed was from the rain that had fell a few hours prior but you could care less.

For the first time in a life time you felt completely and utterly free, from the worries of the things that lurk in the dark, from death, and disappointment. But the feel of dean hand on your thigh mixed with the wind whipping past you and through your hair made you want to cry of happiness.

Dean watched you from inside of the car, how beautiful you looked, in that moment he was convinced you were sent right from heaven into his arms just so he could live this moment. He saw all of your worries slip away as a carefree smile graces your face. The light from the streetlight lit you up like a pop star on stage and he was your audience.

You caught him even more by surprise when you let out a loud and cheery “woooo” and it seemed like time had slowed. If both of his hands weren’t occupied he would’ve taken a picture, but he couldn’t and he would have to rely on his memory to recall this moment for the rest of his life. He wasn’t even sure how he hadn’t crashed the car.

Your heart thumped loudly at the adrenaline that rushed through your veins and that’s when you decided to get back in the car. You seated yourself back on the seat and rolled up the window before letting out the most cheerful laugh Dean had ever heard from you and just the sound itself had his heart souring. “Holy. I see why they do that in movies” you said, looking at him with the most genuine smile he’d ever seen.

Dean couldn’t help the smile that took over his features at the happiness gleaming from your face. You were glowing and it was the most precious moment of his life. “You are gorgeous sweetheart” he said, he couldn’t help that it slipped past his lips, but the look on your face showed it didn’t have much of an effect on you. You rolled your eyes, still smiling “whatever, eyes on the road Winchester, I don’t want to be roadkill because you’re too distracted” you joked. Dean huffed out a laugh in response.

For the rest of the ride the two of you basked in the happiness that replaced the previous gloom. And when you arrived at the motel, Dean was the first one out the car, rushing to your side to open the door for you. “Such a gentleman, if I’d known you’d be this sweet I would’ve let you take me on a date sooner” you joked, but Dean didn’t take it as one. “Then let me” he said genuinely.

Your smile faltered, ‘is he messing with me?’ You thought “what” you said, it was the only thing you could get out. “Let me take you on a date. A real date not one where we have to look over our shoulders the whole time. Let me take out on a date to drink champagne and eat all those fancy meals that don’t even fill you up” Dean said almost sounding as if he was begging.

Dean grabbed your hands “y/n if you let me I will go the whole nine yards. Flowers, a gift, rent a fancy car and order valet whatever you-“ you cut dean off with a kiss to which he immediately returned. The kiss was soft and sweet, you could feel his eyelashes slightly brush against your cheek, and the way he relaxed into the kiss made you swoon.

His hands dropped yours and he placed his on your hips and you bought yours around his neck pulling him deeper into it. You only pulled away because your lungs had began to burn from the lack of oxygen. Deans eyes remained closed for a little longer, reveling in the feel of your lips against his and your body pressing against him. “Woman you drive me insane” he muttered before opening his eyes.

He was graced with the sight of you smiling up at him with your arms still around his neck. “You can take me on a date Winchester, but it doesn’t have to be anything fancy. We could go to a diner in baby and I’d be just as happy” you said softly, your nose brushing his.

It wasn’t often Dean was rendered speechless, but in that moment he was sure you were made for him and only him. “O-okay” he stuttered. You giggled in amusement “have I rendered you speechless?” You teased, and deans cheeks reddened. “Maybe this will knock some words back into your head” you said before pressing your lips against his for the second time, only this time you didn’t give him enough time to recuperate.

“Hey I wasn’t done” he pouted, and you laughed loudly. Pulling away from him you closed the door to baby and began to drag him back to your shared motel room with Sam who you were sure was watching you wondering why it was taking so long for you to enter the room.

“C’mon Winchester we can talk out the details later” you said grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the stairs that led to your room.

Added bonus:

Sam had seen the blush on deans cheeks and he pure happiness in the both of your eyes. Dean quickly excused himself to the bathroom and Sam looked at you with raised brows. He’d helped you pick out that dress, telling you “Dean won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you”. You gave him the biggest smile trying to contain your excitement “it worked” you whisper yelled. A huge smile broke out on Sam’s face “I told you it would” he said.

He had been the biggest supporter of you and his brother’s possible relationship. “He asked me out Sammy” you whispered so Dean wouldn’t hear. You threw yourself on the bed like a teenager from one of those romance sitcoms you claimed to not like, but before Sam could ask for more details the bathroom door opened revealing a slightly less blushy Dean.

He eyes you two skeptically “what are you two whispering about” he asked. “Just figuring out how we’ll get the witch now” you quickly lied. If Dean suspected you were lying he didn’t show, because he immediately turned his back to you and Sam trying to get his tie off. You sent Sam a quick and subtle wink that meant ‘I’ll tell you later’ and he nodded trying to hide his smile

[wendichester]

Hiii! I love your blog <3

May I request Sam and Dean x reader (could be together, could be sepperate, I don't mind, as long as it's with established relationship) where reader has a few piercings and always wears like lots of rings and bracelets and does her own nails constantly?

I was thinking for piercings like, a bunch in the ears, either angel fangs or snake bites (I'm a sucker for lip piercings), tongue piercing, maybe even a septum?

Tysm!!

⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 pierced,

summary. just another day at the bunker being cooler than sam and dean combined together

pairing. dean winchester x reader x sam winchester

wordcount. 418

notes. i just feel like an oc like this would leave them fumbling and stumbling over their feet. such cuties

The sound of metal clinking against metal fills the bunker as you slip on your favorite rings, stacking them on nearly every finger. A collection of bracelets dangles from your wrists, jingling softly with each movement. You’re sitting cross-legged at the war room table, carefully painting your nails a deep, glossy black, utterly focused on the task at hand.

Dean leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with an amused grin. “Y’know, sweetheart, you’ve got more hardware on you than my car.”

You smirk without looking up, blowing lightly on your freshly painted nails. “And I wear it better, too.”

Sam chuckles from his spot at the table, where he’s buried in research. His eyes flicker over to you, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “It’s impressive, honestly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without at least five rings on.”

“Seven, actually,” you correct, holding up your hands to show off the intricate silver bands adorning your fingers.

Dean pushes off the doorframe and walks over, tilting his head to examine you more closely. His eyes linger on your lip piercings—the angel fangs glinting in the light—and the small hoop in your septum. “Doesn’t all that metal get annoying?” he asks, though his tone is more curious than critical.

“Nope,” you reply, popping the “p” as you set down the nail polish bottle. “I like how it feels. And it looks cool, right?”

Dean’s eyes narrow playfully. “You fishing for compliments, or what?”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back in your chair with a confident smirk. “Maybe.”

Sam snorts, shaking his head. “She doesn’t need to fish. You’ve been staring at her like she’s a shiny new toy since she sat down.”

Dean shoots him a glare. “Yeah, well, you’re not any better, Mr. Puppy-Dog Eyes.”

Your cheeks warm slightly, but you roll your eyes to cover it up. “You two are impossible.”

Dean grins, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, careful not to smudge your freshly painted nails. “And you love it.”

You can’t help but laugh, swatting at him lightly. “Lucky for you, I do.”

“Alright, lovebirds,” Sam says, spinning his chair around and sitting on it backward. “How about you finish your nails, and we grab a beer after? I think we’ve earned it.”

You smile, picking up the nail polish again. “Deal. But don’t think this gets you out of complimenting me later.” You playfully glare at Dean.

Dean smirks. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @whereiwakewarm ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume

[sammyluvr]

i got you — sam winchester ꒦꒷ kinktober day five ; size kink

cw : gn!afab!reader, smut, inexperienced!reader, it's their first time together, reader described as generally smaller than sam, sam calls reader pretty & beautiful, pet names (baby, love, honey, darling), kissing, marking, lil bit of biting, praise, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (don't try at home sillies), poorly edited, 4.1K words. MDNI !!! 18+ ONLY.

the moment that sam splays his hands on your waist, you know that you’re done for. his hands are so goddamn big and with him so close it feels like he’s just towering over you. he’s trying to be gentle and soft, but the way his hands tense and squeeze lightly at your sides tells you that he’s holding back already. what’ll it be like when he has you naked and splayed out on the bed?

that’s what he’s thinking about. when he kisses you, long, hard, and deep, and you moan softly into it, he’s already going crazy. he really can’t help but walk you back into the wall and kiss you against it. and when your back arches as he pushes his hand into the small of your back? he’s practically at war with himself. he wonders how the hell he’ll be able to go soft and slow like he wants his first time with you to be when you’re already tugging at his loosely tethered control.

he reaches up, smoothing soft knuckles over your cheek bone as he parts to give you both a moment to breathe. just a second ago, he practically had his tongue down your throat and you had whined around it and he had gripped your sides. and your hands, soft and small against his body had roamed his waist and chest. now the pads of your fingers press into the skin where his broad shoulders curve up into his neck and it’s driving him up the wall.

sam presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth as you pant lightly. “you still alright, honey?” he whispers against your skin. you tilt your head to press your lips back over his, softly this time. you hum a quiet yes.

“‘m perfect, love,” you murmur. you can actually feel his lips stretch into a soft smile before he presses another sweet kiss to your lips.

“can i take you to the bed now?” he asks sweetly, voice still hushed.

you think you could melt right into the floorboards. “please.” he doesn’t hesitate then, sliding his hands down until he’s got his fingers wrapped around the backside of your thighs. when he said take, you didn’t know he meant that literally, but you certainly don’t complain when he hauls you up and wraps your legs around his waist. you gasp in surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself. “sam.” his name escapes your lips naturally, and he has the audacity to grin at you as he walks you over to the bed.

he sets you down on the side gently, though he likes the idea of flat out throwing you onto the bed someday. he’s just that much bigger than you, and he’s going to want to take full advantage of it.

you’re slow in your movements as you slide your arms away from his neck, unable to hold back your own smile in response to his. he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, and when he leans back a bit and reopens his eyes, he realizes that your hands have drifted to the hem of your shirt. silently, his breath catches in his throat and he watches you pull the garment off. he can’t help but stare, certainly not when your chest still visibly rises and falls with labored breath.

he only remembers to pull off his own shirt when his gaze flicks up to catch your eyes hungrily staring at the way his chest stretches out the grey fabric. you think if you look at his bare torso long enough, you’ll start drooling, so you lay back against the pillows and meet his eyes instead, inviting him closer.

and in an instant, sam is all over you, his body, his hands. his hips are pressed over yours and he’s hard. he’s hard and he’s big; you can easily tell. and you expected nothing more, but to feel it against your own crotch, hot and in the flesh, is like an awakening. whether said awakening is rude or glorious, you’re unsure. maybe it’s both. glorious because wow, and rude because how are you going to fit it all?

but there’s not much time to think about that when his lips are back on yours, his warm hands are on your bare waist, and then he’s kissing down your jaw.

everything about your first time with him is gentle and hungry all at once. the way he sucks at your skin is soft, and he doesn’t bite very hard, but he does bite. his teeth on your neck make you moan sweetly and he can never get enough. next time he’ll see if you like it when he bites to mark. tonight, he’ll just suckle and lick until you lightly bruise.

and then there’s his hands, his fingertips that push into the plush of your skin and roam over the fabric of your bra, and his wide palms and calluses that catch on and smooth over you skin. he touches like he worships you and he touches like you’re his. he envelopes your skin with his and he squeezes, but never too hard. he spends most of his energy holding back.

your own hands slide up the expanse of his back and you imagine how small they look on his shoulder blades, which stretch out so wide and broad. you feel the dips and grooves of his muscles, and the softer bits of flesh by his hips, right above the waistline of his jeans. and his chest. it’s so damn wide, softer than you expect when you palm at it. he groans against the column of your neck and the sound sends a shiver through you.

he works you up like there’s nothing to it, like it’s his damn mission. he whispers and grunts out all sorts of things that send your heart racing, the blood to your cheeks, and a rush of heat to your belly.

you’re so damn pretty. you sound so nice for me. i love you, baby. so small underneath me.

when he says that, you groan real loud and he takes notice. those words had been almost accidental. they had just slipped out, but it was the loudest thing in his mind when he opened his mouth to say something sweet.

“yeah?” he murmurs against your skin. “you like bein’ smaller than me?” he doesn’t intend to tease or to be mean tonight, but he really can’t help it. maybe because he likes it just as much as you do. he damn loves it.

you let out a small, muffled sound and he knows his words are getting to you. “i do,” you whisper, voice hoarse and the slightest bit bashful. his hands on your ribs tighten, and he gives the meat of your shoulder a good nip.

“just a tiny thing compared to me, huh?” he mumbles, tilting his head so that his breath tickles the shell of your ear. you let out a puff of air, struggling with your composure.

your face and neck warm considerably at his words. you wonder if he can feel the heat of all that rushing blood under your skin. you’re not used to hearing these kinds of words, the kind that makes you all hot and flustered and beyond turned on. you don’t quite know how to respond, so you just say whatever your dazed mind comes up with. “you’re so big,” you huff out.

sam presses his face into your neck, groaning lowly at those words. he doesn’t think that’s the last time you’ll be saying them tonight.

“yeah, baby,” he murmurs before giving your skin a good little lick. like he knows he’s so big. like all of him is big. like he’s secretly got an ego about it. gosh, you just might die tonight. 

you don’t realize what you’re doing until sam moans into the skin of your neck again, low and pleasured. his hand slides up a little, grabbing at your chest over your bra as if he’s trying to hold onto something so that he can hold back. then you register that you’ve begun to roll your hips up into his. it’s not fair you’re already so hazy with lust that your body’s started to move on its own accord. you’re just chasing whatever feels best in the moment, and right now it’s his bulging hard-on right over your clothed cunt.

you want his cock bad, and when you push up against him with more intent, sam knows it. 

“hold on, baby.” his voice is gruff, and his other hand slides down to carefully pin your hips to the bed. he shifts up, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. then he looks you in the eyes, and you wonder how someone’s gaze could be so soft and adoring while also screaming i want to fuck you stupid. you wish he’d fuck you stupid, but you’re also glad he’s being all gentle and sweet. “i’ll give you anything you want tonight, but i gotta get you ready first, okay?” 

he says it all soft because he really means it. he’ll give you anything at all. but the implications of his words send you reeling because it means that he just knows you won’t be able to take him right away.

“m’kay,” you breathe out, trying not to shy away from his gaze.

he’s so perfect, it’s hard to believe he’s real. he smiles at you, then asks if he can take the rest of your clothes off. you agree eagerly, pulling your bra off yourself and lifting your hips to help him with your pants and underwear. and then he looks at you like you’re the finest, most stunning thing he’s ever seen, and ever will see.

sam kisses down your body. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs into the skin of your belly. “so, so beautiful.” he looks up at you when he says it, voice and eyes full of true awe. he’s practically enthralled by you. he loves you so damn much.

he takes his sweet time, dipping his hand between your legs, swiping lightly at your slit before rubbing softly over your sensitive nub.

you gasp out and he hums contentedly, intertwining the fingers of his free hand through yours.

he wants to make a comment about how wet you are. you’re honest to god soaked. but he thinks it might make you feel a little too shy, so he holds back. instead he just whispers, “i got you.”

and he does. he has you. you’re so ready to give your all to him. you’re not so nervous anymore. not that you ever were all that nervous because it’s sam, but all he does is make you feel loved and good. his rough finger pads, all careful and skilled on your pretty clit, already have you sighing back into the pillows, your breath quickening and hips eager.

he pulls soft moans from you, holding your hand tenderly and tightly. “that’s it, baby,” he says. “so pretty.” he talks all soft and sweet, words blending with each other like he’s got a million praises that he’s got to get out.

when you squeeze his hand real tight, wrap your other fingers around his bicep, and buck your hips up towards him, he reads you easily. 

“you want more, love?” he asks, just to be sure. he’d hate to rush you. but he’s right, and you nod eagerly.

“please,” you huff softly. he’s got you. he’s all delicate and steady when his middle finger prods at your entrance, slipping in slowly so as to not overwhelm you. the second that he’s knuckle deep, it’s already something new and better than ever. you’ve never been with anyone who had such perfect, long fingers. the difference between yours and his is clear and noticeable and already you feel like he’s so deep inside you.

sam would do anything to be able to bottle up the noise that you make and drink from it every night. he’d never need beer or whiskey every again. and this would be so much sweeter and far more potent than any alcohol he could buy. he’s quick to lean over and kiss you on the lips. otherwise, he’d truly just go insane.

you’re so warm and wet around his thick finger, your walls fluttering and just perfect to him. he needs his dick in you.

he starts to move and your lips part against his, letting the sweetest sounds out. “god, you sound so pretty,” he groans. he loves to hear you. so instead of feeling a little sheepish about how easily he makes you moan and whine, you let him hear it all.

and when he gently adds that second finger, your moan is choked and desperate. sam thinks that your voice alone could get him there. his cock throbs in his jeans, the restriction practically painful at this point. but he ignores it because you’re clenching around his fingers, sucking him in so good.

“s-so big,” you pant out. “your fingers are so big,” you groan.

sam curses softly under his breath. “you’re takin’em so good, baby. doin’ so good,” he praises, still tender as he pushes in and out of you until he easily finds that spongey spot in you. your back arches right off the bed and your moans jump in volume. he brushes his thumb over your knuckles soothingly. “that’s it,” hey croons quietly, giving a little groan of his own. 

“you’ll let me make you cum on my fingers, yeah?” he asks gruffly. you’re not sure why he even asks, because who in their right mind would ever turn that down?

“g-gah, ah, yes,” you moan breathlessly. “p-please.” you sound a little desperate and rushed, like you’re worried about that not happening. 

“okay, i will,” he assures you, “i will, baby, don’t worry. i got you.” he kisses your cheek like you’re the most precious thing in the world. to him, you are. and he fingerfucks you like he’s never wanted to make someone feel so good this badly. that very well could be true too. he’s attentive, sweet, and gets so deep.

he’s kissing up and down your neck and jaw when he feels and hears your stuttering breaths, needy moans, and lightly trembling, twitching legs. your hand glides up from his bicep to the back of his neck, tangling with the soft hair there and pressing into his skin.

“i got you,” he says again, meaning it with his everything as your thighs tense around his forearm. “so good. you feel so good, darlin’. such a pretty pussy, baby.”

“oh, god,” you choke out, absolutely clutching at him wherever you can to uselessly stay grounded. “gonna cum, sammy.”

sam knows better than anything that those words tumbling from your mouth is the best thing he’s ever heard. he could combust from how cute you are, how fucking good you sound like this. and he really can’t help but go just a little faster, a little harder. “yeah, baby? you’re gettin’ close, huh? i got you.” he wants you to know it. 

“mhmm,” you hum, voice turned all whiny and breathless. “gonna cum!”

“okay,” he grunts, still trying to sound nice and sweet for you. “go ahead and cum for me. cum for me, honey. whenever you need, baby, i’ve got you.” so easily, his words tip you right over the edge.

you grip his hand and the back of his neck, panting and moaning loudly as you just soak his fingers. and he wants to keep his face buried in your neck to kiss and lick and whisper praises into your skin, but he has to see your face as he makes you cum for the first time.

“oh, god, baby, you look so pretty. so good f’me,” he groans, practically high himself off the way you look and sound. then, he plants his face back into your neck, kissing and sucking as he keeps crooking his fingers inside you, working you through it so good, drawing out the pleasure for you as long as he can. he only stops when you go almost limp against the bed, breathing heavily still, but quieter now. the shudder he gets from you when he pulls his fingers out is satisfying and so cute that he can’t help but coo at you softly. “that’s it, darling. you did so good.”

he gently untangles his hand from yours, just so he can smooth his palm over the side of your face. he kisses the side of your mouth and stays quiet and slow as you catch your breath.

you turn your head a little. “so good,” you mumble into the skin of his cheek. “made me feel so good, sammy.”

“i’m always gonna make you feel good,” he replies with ease and assurance. “you deserve it.” if your face weren’t already as hot with pleasure as it could get, your cheeks would flush with heat at those words, the bashful and in love kind of heat. you want to say thank you, but you’re pretty sure he’ll tell you not to. he wants to make you feel good. he loves it.

you tug him down a little, and he settles on the bed, half of his body pressed right over yours as he nuzzles his nose into the warm skin of your neck. that’s when you’re reminded of his raging hard-on; it presses right into your thigh. you’re quiet about it for just one minute in order to relax and catch your breath, like you know sam would want you to. but you just want him even more than before, so the second you feel like you can, you squeeze your hands into the tight space between your bodies and lightly fumble with the button of his jeans.

he turns his body to make room, but stops you with gentle fingers around your waist. “hey,” he murmurs. “it’s alright. just breathe a minute, baby.” you give him a little smile, then peck his lips.

“i did breathe a minute,” you counter, voice just as soft as his own. “’m ready.”

he holds back a low groan. “you sure?”

“i’m sure,” you breathe, nodding a little. you’re really, really sure.

he relents, loosening his hold on your wrist as an invitation to keep going. “alright.” his fingers don’t leave your wrist though, staying wrapped around you to feel it as you undo his pants. after that, he helps you with the rest, taking care of getting his boxers and jeans all the way off and to the floor.

sam stays settled on the bed next to you, not moving over you to start quite yet. he still wants to go slow, even with the dribble of milky white precum on his tip and the fact that he’s as hard and turned on as he’s ever been.

and it’s there, heavy, hot, and so goddamn big as it rests on the flesh of your thigh. it’s your turn to hold back a moan. you can’t help but stare a little. if feeling his cock against you, stuck in the confines of his jeans was like an awakening, seeing it sit on your thigh must be an entire revelation. or something like that. you’re unsure, because you’re not really thinking much right now. it’s just that question again. how are you gonna fit it all?

of course, sam sees you staring. you look as if the sight of his cock alone is making you overwhelmed. you look like you want him to fuck you silly with it. and you look like you wanna touch.

“you can touch me, baby,” he murmurs, trying to sound more reassuring rather than completely gone for you. your eyes flick up to his, looking a little flustered. you’ll tell him to stop if you need. he knows that, so he takes your smaller hand in his and guides it over to his rock-hard dick. the moment you’re close enough, you wrap your fingers around it. his breath stutters and his own hand shifts back to loosely hold your wrist. then you slowly push your hand up and down his length, causing him to suck in a sharp breath and let out a guttural groan.

you don’t really know what you’re doing, but you’re pretty sure that’s okay. you know he doesn’t intend to make you get him off like this, not tonight. you’ll ask him to teach you how to do it just right some other time. you just wanna touch it. feel how hot and heavy it is in your hand, imagine what it’ll be like in your pulsing cunt. you’re aching for him again already. his hips twitch and he moans a little louder when you swipe your thumb over his tip to feel his precum and rub it all over.

“fuck, baby,” he curses, voice strained and dangerously quiet. you realize you’re practically teasing him like this, so you hesitantly pull your hand away and look at him with pretty eyes.

“’m ready now. please, sammy.” you know he’ll give in if you ask like that. it takes the blink of an eye for his all encompassing body to hover right over yours again. he kisses you, not so gentle this time. it’s all tongue and teeth, and short lived, because he has to feel you.

you whine softly when he takes his dick in his hand and slowly rubs the tip between your slick lips. he presses it over your clit just to make you jolt a little in pleasure. then he lines it up with your leaking hole and stills, looking you in the eye with an impressively sincere expression plastered over his features.

“you gotta tell me if it’s too much, baby,” he urges you, voice filled with such genuine care that just makes you want to be filled with his cock more than ever, “promise you’ll tell me if it starts to hurt, or you wanna stop, or anything at all, okay?”

“i promise,” you nod, chest heaving a little with labored breath. 

“good,” he breathes out, his voice pulled tight again. “okay, baby. just breathe. try to relax.” you do your best to just that, focusing on your breath as he slowly pushes into you, his big hand tightly holding your waist. he hisses through his teeth and you mewl.

he soaks in the sight of your eyes rolling back, your jaw going slack, and your hands flying to grip the sheets. he’d bathe in the sight if he could. he stops just after the tip and you’re already panting. you’ve barely taken any of him, but he’s so thick. you can’t believe how damn full you’re going to feel.

“o-oh, fuck,” you whine, “sammy. you’re so big.” there are those words again, so fucking pretty tumbling out from your parted lips.

“i know, baby,” he groans, “it’s okay. you’re doin’ so good, you feel so fucking good.” he’s not over exagerrating. he’s giving you a minute to get used to this new feeling of something so thick and hot inside of you, and to have your warm cunt throbbing around just his tip is so good, he thinks he could cum just like this if he let himself. instead, he pushes in a little more when he thinks it’s alright.

the way you moan is broken and heavenly. already, he knows it’s gonna be too much for you. “that’s it. i got you, baby,” he says anyway. his restraint is held up by a thread, but he’ll keep it together. just for you, for his baby. sam gives you another long moment, one big hand caressing up and down your side while the other holds your hips steady.

“m-more, please,” you whine. god, he’s newly obsessed with the way you get a little brainless and whiny when he has you like this.

"you sure you can take it?" sam rumbles.

"we can make it fit," you pant out. he groans, overcome for a moment with the urge to just take you.

"yeah," he grunts, no longer schooling his words to be sweet and gentle for you. "yeah, we can make it fit, baby." his voice is so low, it's practically a growl. "we can make it fit," he echoes again, the way you said those words like a damn drug to him. the look in his eyes is so full of lust that it's practically dazed. he looks like he's going to devour you whole.

tonight, he knows you can't really make it fit. he's gonna inch his way into you until you’re too full to take any more. he’s guessing you’ll make it halfway. so he’ll make you cum on half his length and it's gonna be so hot to him that when he pulls out and sees your sweet liquids dripping from your stretched out hole, he's gonna cum in thick, hot spurts all over your cute tummy.

but eventually, you'll make it fit.

TAGLIST

⟢ SPN; general (all supernatural fics, including nsfw so your age must be 18+ and visible on your blog) : @toadspondofwhimsy ; @mxltifxnd0m ; @bloodysammy ; @angelicjackles ; @ohsc ; @chevroletdean ; @prentissluvr .

⟢ kinktober : @this-is-me19 ; @ponygyatt ; @tranquilitybasegrunge ; @anu-piyakya97 ; @yeyrpp2 ; @maeve-24 ; @i-luvsang .

send an ask / dm to be added !

[studiogrimm810]

Speak of The Devil >Pessimistic Coffee // part 4

pairings: (established) sam winchester x gn!you, dean and cas are also there (as boyfriends <3)

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 this part showcases the morning after your sleepless night where the boys try to find a solution and dean helps by making breakfast

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

word count: 3,357

A/N: omgggg,, so this work is very quickly becoming quite dear to my heart so i just want to take a moment to thank anyone and everyone who has read this far!! (or any of it tbh lol) i'm not sure how many parts this will end up being but i think it's going to become my first ever supernatural consistent series and i just think that's super cool! thanks a million again, you all mean the world to me <3

read other parts here

———————

Sam nursed a cup of scolding black coffee while you showered. You insisted on being able to handle it yourself so he offered to make you coffee for when you were finished. He absolutely hated the idea of being out of arm’s length, but he had to trust you. Sam took another sip that singes his tongue but he endures the sting as it builds a layer of numb skin over his tongue. He idly runs his sore tongue over the tips of his teeth, worrying about if you’ve made it past shampoo yet or if you were dissociating under the stream of water.

He forces a gulp down his throat, feeling the roll of heat all the way down and settling into his stomach. The heat is soothing, aching, and somewhat regrettable.

The sound of footsteps echoing up the hall perks his attention even though he knows they’re too heavy and deliberate to be yours. No, he knew they were Deans. Sam's disappointment still made him sigh to himself when he confirmed that the footsteps were in fact Deans.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean tests. He walks casually through the kitchen and to the coffee pot to pour himself a cup. He examined Sam as he did so though, letting his eyes rake over his baby brother's tense shoulders and along his pinched face. Sam mumbles a halfhearted “mornin’,” before taking down another- admittedly tad smaller- gulp of coffee.

Dean pours his cup and leans against the neighboring counter, trying to remain casual but the unspoken words itched to jump off his tongue. He takes a sip and hisses at the heat, holding his coffee low to let it cool a bit first.

“How was last night?” Dean settled on asking. He knew he had to ask sometime, and maybe without your presence it would be easier for Sam to be honest. Sam didn’t even flinch at the question, not looking up at his brother or really showing any signs of communication. Sam was stuck in thought, organizing his words to a precise speech as to do you and your situation justice, even in the small talk accompanied by morning coffee.

“Restless,” was the word Sam started with, figuring it was neutral enough to not find any pinpointed feeling to it just yet. He didn’t want to speak for you, but thankfully, at this moment, Dean didn’t really want to hear about you as much as he did his brother. Of course Dean was worried about you, but he knows how deeply Sam loves you and how deeply Sam feels for those around him.

“Did you get any sleep?” Dean follows. He has a feeling that even when you did fall asleep, Sam would remain up out of unyielding determination.

“Some.” One word again. The look that plagued Sam’s features wasn’t one of defeat or exhaustion, but one of deep thought. It was like he was spending every second he could to work out this puzzle of your situation. “It’s still Lucifer.”

Dean shakes his head, setting down his coffee, “what!?” He whisper-yells and Sam sighs, setting down his coffee and rubbing his forehead with his formerly free hand, his now coffee-free hand tapping on the cool metal table.

“Last night, they were having another… hallucination, we can call it, and I tried the angel banishing sigil and it worked,” Sam looks up at his brother with pinched high brows. Dean drops his jaw just enough to grind it instead of clenching it and looks off to the side for a moment to gather his calmest words.

“So that’s where Cas went,” Dean concludes, wondering where the angel in his bed ran off to in the middle of the night.

“Yeah, sorry,” Sam scoffs a short, dry, laugh and pulls his coffee cup back to his lips, feeling a twinge of disappointment at the now cooled coffee. “It was the only thing I could think of, but it worked.”

“So, if Cas’ theory is right, then he’ll leave when the spell does?” Dean adds, his hands leaned against the island after taking a satisfied sip of his coffee.

“That’s the hope,” Sam nods, setting his half full cup of coffee down for good. Up the hall, Sam hears a familiar creak of his and your bathroom door. You had been on him about fixing that squeak so that you wouldn’t wake each other up in the middle of the night but Sam just kept forgetting about it, only remembering it needed done when he heard it. But right now, he’s glad he’s pushed it off for so long, the loud hinge was a reminder that you had graduated from your shower and could probably use that cup of coffee now. “Excuse me,” Sam said after standing and getting you a cup of coffee. It was just cool enough that he knew you would enjoy it since you often complained that a burnt tongue ruins your tastebuds for the following 24 to 48 hours of its initial damage.

Sam knocks on the door lightly before announcing himself, opening the door just enough to let himself in and then latching it again. “Here, love, it’s warm,” he hands you the cup. You sat on the edge of his side of the bed, a towel wrapped around you and your hair dripping onto your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you mumble into the rim as you sip down the bitter jolt of just under hot coffee.

“How was your shower?” Sam asks crouching down in front of you. He enjoyed looking up at you, knowing that whenever you felt sad or tired that you slouched, and this way he could still see every perfect detail that lined your face.

“Warm,” you reply simply, taking a larger gulp and licking the drip left on your lips. You sniffle since the steam has made its way from the cup and into your nose, loosening your already messy sinuses. After a night of crying and a warm shower, the stuffiness of your nose never seemed to go away. It would, of course, but you were starting to feel awfully pessimistic. Even over the smallest things.

“Good, honey,” Sam rests a hand on your exposed knee, lightly running his thumb over the skin. “Are you hungry? Dean’s making breakfast.” Sam had no idea if that was true, but he knew that if you wanted breakfast then he would make certain that Dean would make his famous biscuits and gravy that you absolutely drool over.

You just shrug. You really enjoy the warm coffee in your hands, the silky and bitter liquid that coats your mouth and reminds you that you’re back to your life. That you got out.

Except technically, you didn’t.

You got out from under Lucifer's thumb, but he’s still there.

And the ‘it’ that you got out of? Yeah, your brain? You would never leave- technically.

You stare down at the half empty cup in your hands, deciding on if it’s worth it to finish a measly cup of luke-warm coffee or not. You decide not to decide and simply set the cup on Sam’s side table.

“How’re you feeling, honey?” Sam asks, keeping pet names lush in his dialogue because he knew how much it soothed you. You pulled in your bottom lip, nibbling on the soft skin.

“Can you get my sweater,” you tick your head to your dresser on the other side of the room. Sam’s face hosts a sweet smile, loving and admiring. They say it takes more muscles to frown, but the lift of Sam's lips, despite the growing weight of guilt and worry, are starting to disprove that simple fact. He nods, standing to retrieve the sweater. It was a comfort piece of yours, large and warm, soft and drowning. He also grabs you a pair of comfortable shorts to wear with it.

Sam helped maneuver the outfit on your exhausted body, the cloth settling like a light and powdery blanket of snow. Sam takes the towel and hangs it up in the bathroom before returning with a hairbrush. He sits next to you on the bed, placing his hand on your knee.

“You should really eat something, love,” he pushes back a wet strand of hair that was right in your eyes.

“In a little bit, not hungry,” you take the brush from Sam, brushing through your hair sloppily, allowing some droplets to land on the comforter beneath you.

Sam understands, knowing you’re not usually hungry super early in the morning, but hoping that you’re not just ignoring your body’s needs. He lets the moment rest in this comfortably tense silence. So many unspoken words on the tip of his lips but the necessity to say any of them flying out the window.

He almost thought of mentioning Dean waking up to a lonely bed but he didn’t want to make you feel guilty. A part of him wondered when Cas would be back though.

“What’re you thinkin’, honey?” Sam asks, reaching out for your hand once you set down the brush.

“Waiting for him to come back,” you say, keeping your eyes glued to the desk across from the room. Sam follows your gaze and swallows, trying to keep a strict hold on his facial expressions as he turns back to you. “He’s real, isn’t he?”

Sam sighs, feeling his chest clench with the harsh reality of, yeah, that’s true. “A projection of him, at least.”

You just nod slowly.

“But I’ve been thinking,” Sam nods, his trademark puppy-dog eyes watching you with such a wash of comfort. “Me and Dean have these enochian sigils on our ribs that basically prevent angels from finding us. First, I think you should get them too, and second, maybe Cas knows of something that can imprint your skull too, or maybe another banishing sigil that’s less… forceful.” Sam finishes carefully, hoping he chose his words just right as to make the information settle easy in your ears.

Less forceful? Why would that sigil be a problem-?

Oh, fuck.

“Cas,” you breath out with wide eyes, turning your full attention to Sam who immediately shakes his head. He tries to assure you that it’s alright but the guilt has already finished its foundation in your gut. Because of you, Dean's boyfriend (even if he may not outwardly admit it), and your best friend- Cas, has been banished from his own home here at the bunker. “I-Is he okay? I didn’t even think about it. I just needed him gone. Sam-, I really didn’t mean to-.”

“Hey, hey, honey. It’s okay,” he nods, placing a hand on your cheek, hoping to coax you out of your panic. Your eyebrows pinch in regret. “He’ll understand, I promise,” that still didn’t really make you feel any better.

You nibble on your lip, letting your gaze drop to the floor beneath you. Sam has let his hand run through your wet hair, feeling the strands, settling them neatly.

“Wanna go to the kitchen? Get some more coffee?” He suggests, still carding through your hair and counting the different highlights, even if slight.

“Is Dean gonna be upset?” Your voice is small and worried- genuinely worried- that Dean would be mad at you for sending Cas away for a couple hours.

“No, baby, no, he understands. I already talked to him,” he assures, petting your hair with a tad of force to hopefully encourage you to turn back to face him again. You only continued to nibble your lip, the soft skin on the inside of your mouth was soothing and it squished under your teeth just right.

“C’mon, love,” Sam nudges softly, hoping to get you out of this room. You’re about to say no when you hear Cas’ voice. Your head perks up and your heart skips with guilty relief.

“Okay,” you nod, looking up at the door and then back to Sam who smiles warmly. He stands, reaching for your hands as he does so to pull you up with him. He snakes an arm around your waist to guide you out of your room. The cool air rushing past your wet hair tightens your scalp just a bit. It feels refreshing.

Muffled voices lead you down the path that you already know to be the kitchen. Turning into the room, you see Cas standing in front of a casually leaning Dean who looks up and down the angel with a warm smirk. Loving and domestic.

That’s what you four created here, in this post-apocalyptic style shelter that’s mostly underground. A loving and domestic home. Where Cas and Dean don’t have to worry about prying or judgmental eyes and where you and Sam don’t have to stress over the safety of each other. This place is home. Your home. And Lucifer is fucking ruining it.

You don’t see him just yet. It’s only Cas, and for that you’re thankful.

Cas notices you first, his affectionate eyes moving from one love in his life to another. You met the Winchesters through Cas after he helped you (well basically saved you) with a case a few years back.

He calls your name, filled with weighted love and understanding. He walks past Dean and towards you. “How’re you feeling?” He checks you over but mainly keeps his eyes on yours. Cas claimed he could read you like a book but you were not so sure. Of course, that’s just stubborn ignorance on your part though.

“I’m sorry for kicking you out,” you apologized, hoping it sounded lighthearted enough to take as a humorous apology, but your tone and face leads no further clues to allow someone to laugh. Cas still does though, knowing you meant to phrase it just in a way to be awkwardly apologetic.

“Don’t be sorry, I’m just glad you were able to get some sleep,” Cas nods. In the back of his head, he remembers when Sam couldn’t sleep at all and how it led him to a ward. That thought also leads him to conclude that 75% of the beings in this room have endured a psychological torture at the hands of Lucifer in the extent of prominent hallucinations. He shoves the thoughts away to focus on the now.

“We were hoping that maybe you’d know something that could help keep Lucifer at bay but not you,” Sam explains. Cas flicks his eyes back to Sam to intake the words and then he looks off to the side thoughtfully.

“Perhaps,” he nods, still stoically zoned in on nothing visual- completely mental. “May I?” Cas outstretched his hand gently. You nod and he hovers his hand over your forehead, emitting a beacon of light that, again, warms your skin and soothes the underlying ache in your skull. When he pulls away, his face is a twist of confusion that makes Sam’s stomach sink.

“What is it?” Sam asks quickly, before you can even get your eyes fully open again. Cas looks up at Sam with a slightly gaped mouth, closing it to look back at you and actually find how to say this.

“Your levels of Valerian haven’t changed,” he states. You feel your breath hitch, it’s been 12 hours at least, shouldn’t they be down at all? Even a little bit? “Ideally, yes,” Cas answers, and you realize you were accidentally praying to him.

“What does this mean? How do I make it go away?” You ask, hoping to god that Cas will have the perfect solution hidden behind his back with a pretty bow and neat wrapping around it for you to tear into and take like a greedy child.

“We should talk to Rowena,” Cas suggests, knowing it’s the best choice. Dean's instinctual gut reaction is ‘hell no’, not wanting more magic would be the solution, and Cas can sense this, but Sam knows that Rowena is the best bet. Not only is she one of the most powerful witches they’ve come across, but the pure spite alone she would cast on Lucifer for helping would be enough motivation for her.

You nod, trusting Rowena, knowing she has her flaws but so does everyone. Only difference is she’s never had a support system like the individuals in this room.

“Okay,” Sam whips out his phone with no hesitation.

After a short phone call, there’s a promise of Rowena in about a day or so.

“For the time being, if you need to use the sigil, then I’ll just go far enough to not be affected,” Cas states. Your eyes soften at his simple understanding. You nod with a deep inhale of air and a tired smile as a thanks.

“That’s it, we need some breakfast,” Dean straightens his posture and clasps his hands as he heads to the fridge. The sound makes you flinch, but Dean doesn’t notice. You just shake your head at Cas as a silent, ‘I’m fine’, and the soft rub of Sam's hand on your lower back shows that he noticed, but won’t address it further than the simple comforting brush of his palm.

“C’mon,” Sam leads you to a seat at the bar, his heart aching with affection in the simple act. The fact that you’re just here with him now to watch over and protect is enough to make him feel okay right now, despite everything else. He pulls out a seat for you which you take, and then he takes the one next to you.

The air is tense, so many unspoken truths floating around the room with no promised destination. You nibble on your sore lip, looking down at the counter. Everyone can feel it. Everyone knows it. It makes your skin crawl with unease.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mutters after a thick pop erupts from the item in his hands. The sounds make you jerk your head up to see what happened. Dean looks up from the item in his hand, showing his embarrassment through a glare, and utters, “it spooked me.”

You stifle a laugh, because the oh-so scary item was just the roll of biscuits that snapped open in his hands. Sam is also watching with a stiff smile, one he knows will irk his brother further if he lets it grow.

“Shut up,” Dean rolls his eyes at both of you, setting down the rolls and turning to grab a can of non-stick spray for the pan. As soon as his back is turned, a small giggle melts past your lips and Sam smiles over at you. The humor in a roll of dough scaring Dean as if a ghost had just popped out in front of him- actually, no. You’ve seen that before and he’s never jumpy like that. That makes it a touch funnier.

Cas walks over to help with breakfast, his own smile ticks his lips up just a tad, strictly out of fondness for you. As he rounds the counter, he catches Dean pulling out the can of spray with a pleased smirk on his face. A smirk that he quickly wipes away and replaced with an annoyed scowl before turning back to you and Sam. “Do you want breakfast or not?” He grumbles, lifting the pan and spraying a generous layer of essentially really crappy butter as he sees it.

“Yes, please, sorry,” you murmur, trying to keep your fits of laughter away as honestly you’re too tired to deal with trying not to laugh in the face of a cranky authoritarian. Sam just watches you, enjoying the small peak of happiness you’re experiencing at this moment. He knows what's to come, he knows the troubles you both will soon face, on your own and together. He knows the toll Lucifer will have on you when all of this is over and he has a pretty tight bet that even with the Valerian gone, that the pesky stain of The Devil will leave charred remnants that will provoke consistent hallucinations.

But goddamn, he just wants right now to stay as perfect as it feels.

And you just want to ignore the crimson, glowing red dots in the reflection of the microwave.

———————

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

>tags: @internallysalad, @checkedoutghost

[samsno1]

One Hell Of An Agent

Sam Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: After weird deaths start happening and your friend becomes a victim of it, two men appear at your door for questioning and your day turns into the weirdest you've ever lived.

Warnings: SMUT, size kink (if you squint), oral (f. recieving), big d sam (obviously), dean gets forgotten lmao, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), piv, tit sucking, sam is a sweetheart, pet names (doll, baby, beautiful), a bit of body insecurity but, as i said, sam is a gentleman, reader is shorter and overall smaller then sam, use of y/n, NOT PROOF READ, english isn't my first language (if i forgot anything TELL ME)

Read it on AO3

WC: 6.1k

You can learn how to change the "Y/N" for your actual name here

enjoy your meal babies, mwah mwah

It was supposed to be just another day where you went to work to get pennies in exchange for spending close to 12 hours in front of a computer screen, get back home to drink until you decided you should take a shower and sleep. Then repeat.

You, standing in your living room with a circle of kitchen salt around you and two men who were supposedly FBI agents holding shotguns and the ghost of an old woman trying to kill you, wasn't in your plans.

They both had arrived at your house in suits earlier that day, knocking on your door. You groaned and got up from the couch, leaving your beer bottle settled on the coffee table. Once you opened the door you widened your eyes at the two men standing there.

The taller one greeted himself first. He had a – almost – shoulder length brown hair and beautiful hazel eyes. To say you were shocked at how handsome he looked was an understatement. The shorter one had deep green eyes and short hair, he was pretty too but his partner…

“Hello, I'm Agent Page, this is my partner, Agent Plant” He said, showing you his badge and nodding to Plant, him copying what his partner did.

You furrowed your eyebrows, recognizing the names from the Led Zeppelin band.

“Plant and Page as in…the Led Zeppelin guys?” You questioned and they shared a look. The shorter one stepped foward, giving you a once over, clearly checking you out.

“Just a coincidence Ma'am” He said, smiling at you and you nodded, still a bit skeptical.

You opened the door wider for them both to get in.

“Come in, please. Have a seat” You said, gesturing to the couch and they sat besides each other. Page eyed the beer at the coffee table in front of him and you cringed.

“Sorry, I wasn't expecting the FBI at my door” You chuckled lightly and took the beer bottle to the kitchen in the other room. When you came back, both their eyes were on you and you felt a bit intimidated.

“Well…why are the feds at my house…?” You asked, sitting at the armchair and resting your hands on your lap, fidgeting nervously with your fingers.

Page put his elbows on his knees, his fingers crossing in front of him as he leaned forward to talk closer to you. You took notice of his big frame wondering how someone could be so…wide?

“Miss…”

“Y/N” You filled in the gap.

“Miss Y/N” He said, licking his lower lip with his tongue “We are here to ask about the recent murders around”

“Oh” You said. You knew well about one of the victims, a friend of yours. It had been a little over 2 weeks since her death but you always went with the mantra to keep going no matter what. At the memory of her you felt your throat restrict and you blinked back tears.

Page seemed to notice and put a gentle hand on your knee to comfort you. When you looked up he was smiling slightly and you calmed down.

“We know Beth was your friend and we are sorry for your loss” He said, squeezing your knee “But we'd like to ask you some questions, if you don't mind”

You nodded and looked between the both of them, taking a deep breath.

“Yeah…yeah of course” You said and he nodded, pulling his hand away from you, the warmth still lingering where he had placed it.

“Did you notice any weird behaviors before your friend passed? Like she was distant, cold…?” Plant asked and you made a face trying to remember anything. You recorded a night you two went out

“Five days or so before she died…” You started, turning your head down to stare at your fingers over your lap. “We went to a bar near my house and she kept glancing behind her, nervous, on edge, as if something would jump her at any moment. When I asked her what was wrong she looked at me, terrified, grabbed her things and bolted”

You sighed thinking you should've went with her now that she was gone.

“I tried calling, texting. Nothing. For those five days I didn't hear anything from her then…they called me announcing that she was gone” You started tearing up again and closed your eyes to hold them back.

“She didn't have anyone else, y'know, I should've been there for her, I–” You choked on an inevitable sob and covered your face with your hands. Then you felt the taller man's hand on your knee again, his thumb stroking your leg.

“We are truly sorry, it wasn't your fault” He said, a voice so comforting and calm you felt it in your heart.

You took your hands away from your face and sniffed, letting out a slight chuckle. You felt a bit embarrassed to be crying in front of them both.

“I'm sorry” You said and brushed your hair back with your hand “I think this was it. She was always a very quiet girl but sweet, caring, I couldn't think of anyone that would do this to her”

The men nodded and looked at each other, a silent conversation you weren't a part of. You looked down to see Page's hand still on your knee and you smiled to yourself. What a nice fed.

"Thanks for the information Ma'am" Page said. When they looked back at you, he patted your knee lightly and got up with his partner. You stood up as well to accompany them to the door, them both behind you.

You opened the door and looked at them both going out, your gaze lingering longer on the taller one, looking him up and down.

They turned to you with a tiny card in his hand and gave it to you, your finger brushing against his.

“If you remember anything, give us a call. Thank you for your time” He smiled warmly along with the green eyed Agent.

“Will do, thank you so much” You said, smiling back seeing them walk away to the Impala parked in front of your house.

You kept your gaze locked until they drove away, snapping you out of your daze getting back in your house and locked the door, smiling like an idiot at the image of the handsome guy you just met.

Inside the Impala, Dean kept glancing towards Sam, who had his face buried into the newpaper about the couple murders happening.

“Dude” Dean finally said, a grin on his face. Sam looked up at him and made a questioning face at his side profile.

“What?” He asked

Dean laughed lightly and looked at his brother.

“She was eating you with her eyes” Dean said and at that Sam's full attention was on him, lowering the paper with a confused face.

“Who? Y/N?” He asked and Dean nodded. Sam sighed and rolled his eyes at his brother. “Dean, c'mon” He said.

“I'm serious, the look she gave you when we left, staring you up and down like a feast” Dean laughed mischievously, looking for a couple seconds at Sam's shocked expression. “She's pretty, y'know, if you don't want it, I'll have it”

“Shut up Dean” He said but he couldn't help thinking about your looks towards him and the impulse he felt to comfort you with a hand on your leg when he realized you were upset.

Dean laughed and shook his head at the stubbornness of his brother, driving back to the cheap motel they were staying at.

Your day went by as usual, some couple more beers here, a whiskey there, some movie you had on the TV.

You ended up falling asleep on the couch for a couple hours until about 2AM when you heard a loud thud in your house and your entire body entered fight or flight mode.

You got up and kept your ears trained for any more sounds until you heard your stove, the gas being poured out in your house and the color drained from your face. What the hell?

You went into the kitchen and for sure the smell of the gas hit hard on your nose and you gagged.

Suddenly the door to the kitchen closed behind you and you jumped in shock. Your heart started ringing in your ears and your hands were trembling.

“Hello?! Is anybody there?!” You asked, your voice shaking as you went to the door. Locked. You started to panic, were you crazy? Was this a dream?

There was a noise behind you and you turned, seeing the knife cabinet open and you glued yourself to the door, trying to get the lock open when a kitchen knife started to float up and towards you.

You screamed and banged at the door.

“Help! Someone, please!” You screamed and the knife was plunged in the door, close to your head and your body fell back in the ground, tears rolling down your cheeks when everything stopped.

You slowly got up and tried to open the door. Success. You scrambled out of your kitchen and unlocked the front door, sprinting out of your house terrified.

You remembered the card the Agent gave you. You didn't know if it was okay to call him this late but you just almost died. You thought he could make an exception.

With trembling fingers, you dialed the number on your phone, putting it to your ear. Please pick up, please pick up.

“Hello? Agent Page speaking, who is this?” He said with a gruff voice, he was definitely sleeping and you felt a bit bad for waking him up.

“Agent?” You practically whispered, your voice shaky with fear.

“Y/N?” He recognized your voice and made a confused face, sitting up on the bed. “What's wrong?”

“I– I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have called I–” You spoke fast, nervous. He took notice of that “Something happened” You said simply.

“We are on our way” He said and slipped on his shoes, already on outside clothes. He nudged Dean to wake him up. “Hang in there”

“Okay” You said in a whisper as he turned the call off, biting your thumbnail in order to stay calm in the circumstances.

Dean woke up to see Sam getting his bag ready in a frenze, a worried look in his younger brother's face.

“Y/N called, something happened, she seemed stressed, let's go” He said, throwing Dean his bag, the oldest groaning as he grabbed the keys for the Impala.

As they drove there, Sam couldn't help but get even more stressed the long it took for them to arrive. He wondered if you were okay, if you had gotten hurt, or worse. When they arrived, you were sitting on your porch, legs tucked close to your body as you shivered.

When you heard the noise of the car you got up. The two came out and you were a bit weirded out to see them in normal clothes but relieved nonetheless.

When they got closer you breathed out in relief, the taller of the two coming closer then Plant, grabbing your shoulders and eyeing you up and down, looking for any visible damage.

“Are you hurt? What happened?” He asked and you shook your head at the first question.

“I don't know…If I explain it I'll sound crazy” You said

“Oh, sweetheart, believe me, we know crazy” The green eyed Agent said and you looked at him, the nickname foreign but you brushed it off.

“I was sleeping in my couch when I woke up with a loud bang” You began. “I got up to see that my stove started leaking gas and…when I wnt to the kitchen, the door…It shut behind me, locked” You said, shakily and Page brushed his hand on your shoulder, the same way he had done to your knee earlier “I couldn't get out and a knife started to fucking float, it charged at me, caught the door and then it all just…stopped”

“I was able to leave my house and…call you” She said and looked into his eyes, the comforting gaze seeping into her. “I'm sorry, I know it's late”

“Don't bother, it's fine. Let's try and see how we can help you, okay?” He said

You looked at him, puzzled, tilting your head at him

“You believe me?” You asked and he let out an aired laugh in amusement.

“What if I tell you we aren't truly FBI agents” He said.

“Oh” You widened your eyes and looked between the both of them, shameful smiles on their faces. “Right”

“Get in, we will explain everything we can to you” He said and you nodded getting inside your house.

After a couple minutes you learned that they were actually brothers, the tall one was named Sam and the shorter was Dean. They told you all about what they did, the family business, how real the supernatural was and tried to explain that you experienced something ghost-like.

You were absolutely dumbfounded as they said all that. It was hard to believe that, how is all of it real if you hadn't seen anything your whole life similar to what they explained to you? Just now?

“Okay so…you both are like…the Ghostbusters?” But hotter. You noted, mentally.

“Basically, yeah” Dean said.

You sat there with your hands over your face. You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or cry at the situation.

The brothers walked around with the so called EMFs, machines you learned could sense the presence of ghosts.

You couldn't help but glance at Sam. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, his hair falling around his face and from time to time he bit his lower lip.

You were entranced at how annoyingly handsome he was until loud beeping from Dean's EMF startled you.

Sam whooped his head towards him and they shared silent looks. Sam turned to his bag and got a shotgun out and you widened your eyes at him. He took notice of that.

“They are loaded with rock salt, don't worry” He said and you made a confused face. He smiled at you and your heart skipped a beat. “Let's say…ghosts don't like salt. Salt and iron are their weaknesses” He said and you hummed in acknowledgement getting up and going to your fireplace to get an iron rod.

Sam stared at you as you walked back to him and you shrugged.

“It's iron, you said it could keep them at bay” You said and he nodded.

A loud noise startled all of you, in the kitchen, where Dean was the closest to and he cooked his gun, Sam doing the same and protecting you with his body.

“Stay behind me” He murmured to you and you nodded, iron rod in your hand prepared for any attack.

“Come on you son of a bitch!” Dean said and, as if on cue, the ghost of an old lady appeared in your kitchen and you gasped, recognizing her immediately.

“Mrs. Greene?” You whispered and apparently she heard you because in a moment she was there and in the other she was behind you.

“Y/N, watch out!” Sam yelled in front of you and you turned around, swinging your weapon and making her vanish for a couple of moments.

You were breathing heavily, your ears ringing until Sam snapped you out of your daze, turning you around by grabbing at your arm.

“Are you okay?” He asked, concern laced in his voice as he gave you a once over.

“Yeah, I think” You replied and Dean appeared as quick as possible making a circle of salt around you and Sam stepped out of it, letting your arm go.

“You need to stay there, she can't get you because of the salt” Dean said.

“You know her?” Sam asked and you looked at him, nodding.

“She was Beth's mother. Died in a car accident that…my father caused. Me and Beth bonded through their deaths but I guess her mom didn't really approve of that” You said, smiling sadly to yourself.

“Where is she buried?” Dean questioned.

“The cemetery near the only church in town. About 5 miles from here” You replied and Dean gave Sam a quick nod as he got his bag and gave his brother extra ammunition.

“I'll go do the dirty job, you, protect her, make sure that bitch doesn't kill her” Dean said as he went out the door, shutting it behind him.

You sat on the ground, in the middle of the salt circle, mindlessly playing with the iron rod in your hand. Sam looked down at you. You looked more than upset, understandably.

“Everything is going to be okay” He reassured you and you looked at him with a gentle smile. Until you weren't smiling anymore and instead was looking behind him.

“Sam, behind you!” You said, getting up again and he turned shooting the ghost and she reappeared behind you, outside of the circle.

You turned around, shaking and lifting your weapon at her. She looked down at the salt circle and the creepiest smile you've ever seen opens up in her face, sending shivers down your spine.

Suddenly the windows broke open and a strong gust of wind came in with full force. You covered your head to protect it from the glass until you looked down and the salt circle was broken around you.

Your heart dropped as she started approaching you and Sam shot her again from behind you.

To your dismay, she was behind him again, and before you could warn him about her she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and threw him against a wall.

“Sam!” You screamed and she turned to you again, slowly walking towards your frame and you backed away, the iron rod propped in front of you protectively.

She knocked the rod out of your hand and you looked desperately at it on the ground.

Your back pressed against the wall and you closed your eyes, preparing for your death when she started screaming and you opened your eyes.

She was quite literally burning right in front of you, with her hands reaching for your throat until she was just gone, no burn marks on your ground, weirdly, and her desperation echoed through the house.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, your heart beating in your ears. You heard a groan and remembered Sam was basically knocked out on the other side of the room.

You rushed to him and kneeled down besides him with a hand on his cheek and the other in one of his knee.

“Sam, are you okay?” You asked as he slowly opened his eyes. When he seemed to retrieve consciousness again he breathed in deeply and scrambled to get up but you held him down by putting a hand on his chest.

“Hey, hey, it's okay, she's…gone, I guess” You said and he focused his eyes on yours when you smiled. You felt your face heat up at the look he was giving you until Dean barged in through the front door, whistling at the mess.

He looked towards both of you on the ground and made a face, holding back a smirk.

“Burned her up…Am I interrupting something?” Dean asked playfully and you felt a tad of embarrassment, helping Sam get up with a grunt.

They started to gather their stuff and you wondered how the hell you were going to clean up your whole house. Glass and salt everywhere, a hole on the wall where Sam was thrown at.

When they were all done you got each a beer. They tried to deny it but you insisted, claiming it was a thank you treat for saving your life.

You finished all your drinks, throwing the bottles away and you walked them to the door, the Impala parked in front of your house. They got out and stood outside as you smiled at them.

“Thank you, again, really, you both saved my life” You said.

“It's nothing, really, we do this everyday” Dean said with a dismissive wave. “I'm going to load the car” Dean said, giving Sam a pat on the back and a look you didn't understand but apparently Sam did, since he gave a deep breath and a practically death glare at his brother, his chest going up and down.

“So…” He started, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

“So?” You nudged, smiling up at him and biting your lower lip. His eyes stared at your mouth and you felt small under his gaze.

“You were amazing back there, you know?” He said, crossing his arms in front of him and smiling. “You knew what to do, few people can do what you did”

He complimented and you looked down, smiling like an idiot. He’s so sweet.

“Oh I just…went by logic I guess, nothing much. You said iron and I reached for iron” You said, fidgeting with your fingers as you looked up again.

“Yeah…” He said, looking from your eyes to your mouth and back up again. You decided to be a bit brave and got into your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek, holding on his shoulder for support.

When you pulled back he didn't pull away and one of his hands cupped your cheek, looking between your eyes when he leaned into you, his lips against yours in a light kiss.

You responded almost immediately, your hand going to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss and he placed his hands on your waist. You reluctantly pulled away with a hum, dazed by the kiss with your eyes still closed.

When you opened them his eyes were on your face and you felt warm again. He pulled you back in your house and you giggled in surprise when he closed the door, his hand still holding you.

“What about your brother?” You said as he turned his attention back to you, a smirk on his face when he squeezed your waist. He leaned in closer and you held your breath.

“He can wait” He whispered against your lips before kissing you again, this time more intensely then before and you hummed, burying your hand on his hair while the other stroked his chest.

You started taking his jacket off when you stopped and pulled away.

“Is this okay? I mean I'm totally fin–” He cut you off with another mind blowing kiss and you gasped.

He shrugged off his jacket, dropping it to the ground and clasping your face in both his hands.

“Does this answer your question?” He smiled teasingly and you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss his lips again and his hands grabbed your hips in response.

He brushed his tongue against your lower lip and you opened your mouth to let him explore it, moaning lowly against his mouth.

He lowered his hands to the back of your thighs, not breaking the kiss, and lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and you yelped in his mouth.

You noted he was big, you just didn't know he was this strong, lifting you in his arms as if you weighed nothing.

He walked to the kitchen and placed you on the counter, his hands going under your shirt and experimenting with his touches on your bare skin.

You whimpered, shivers running through your whole body as his big hands roamed through your burning skin.

You pulled away, your forehead touching his, a whispered “Fuck” coming out of your lips. Your hands went to the hem of your shirt and slowly pulled it over your head, leaving your torso bare besides your bra.

Sam drank you in, his adam apple bobbing when he swallowed and you felt embarrassed under his strong gaze, your hands slowly coming to wrap themselves around your stomach.

He held your wrists gently, pulling them away from you and his hands went up and down your arms.

“Don't hide from me, you're beautiful” He whispered and started to leave kisses down your neck, nibbling and biting where he noticed you liked the best with the noises leaving your mouth.

Your hand wrapped in his hair to pull him back to your lips, his kisses addicting like a drug.

He pulled away again to pull his shirt over his head, revealing his defined torso and your jaw physically dropped at the sight. He had some scars, some pale, old, others a pink tone, more recent but it just made him look even better, showing how much he had lived through. He chuckled at your reaction and settled his hands on your hips again, gently squeezing.

“See something you like?” He teased and you closed your mouth, your hands reaching slowly to touch his bare chest. He gasped at your feather-like touch on his tanned skin and you looked at him again, his eyes dark with desire.

“You're…stunning, like– I knew you were…muscular…from the get go but you're…” You trailed off and he chuckled, a bit embarrassed and leaned down to crash his lips against yours again.

His hands went to your back and unclasped your bra, helping you take it off and toss it on the ground along with the rest of your clothes.

His hands came to the front and grabbed at both your breasts, squeezing them and making you moan into his mouth. His fingers teased at your hardened nipples and you arched into his touch.

His mouth started trailing down towards your neck, your collarbone, until he got to the valley of your breasts and looked up at you. Your mouth was open, eyes hazed and deep breaths were making your chest go up and down. What a sight.

He closed his mouth into one of your nipples and you whined, the warmth of his tongue circling around it making you grasp at his locks with a certain strength that made him groan around your skin. His fingers teased the other breast until he switched sides, feasting on your breasts.

“Sam…” You gasped his name and he hummed in acknowledgement of your plea, pulling away from your breast with a smile. “Please”

He gave your lips a peck and went down your body again, leaving open mouthed kisses down your stomach until he got to the waistband of your jeans and looked at you again, asking for permission and you nodded at him.

His fingers popped open the button of your pants and opened the zipper. You lifted your hips to help him pull the clothing off and he dragged it down your legs slowly, drinking you in.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his hungry gaze on your frame when his eyes noticed your soaked underwear.

He discarded your pants and ran his hands up your legs, his look never leaving your covered pussy. His hands stopped at your thighs as squeezed the flesh and you closed your legs instinctively.

He looked up at you and pried your legs open with his hands.

“What did I say about hiding from me?” He said, his tone deep and dominant making you swallow a whine as you spread your legs wider and he settled between them with a smirk.

He kissed your covered sex and you let out a low moan, his mouth traveled to your inner thighs, biting and kissing at the flesh, driving you insane.

“Please…” You begged, grabbing at his hair and he hummed.

“So desperate” He said against your skin, grasping your panties and pulling them down. You gasped at the cold air hitting your dripping core and he groaned at the sight.

He cupped your whole cunt with his hand, making your hips buck up into his touch and a low moan left your throat.

“Beautiful” He whispered and gave your thigh one last kiss. “Tell me if it's too much, okay?” He said and your heart melted.

“Okay” You breathed out and he smiled up at you. He took his hand away and you almost frowned when his lips wrapped around your clit and you moaned, bucking your hips against his mouth.

He smirked against you and put one hand over your hips to hold you still as he did wonders against your cunt. His tongue eating you out as if you were his last meal, ripping loud moans from your throat.

“Oh, fuck” You moaned, pulling at his hair “Sam– God” He hummed and groaned against your pussy sending jolts of pleasure through you.

He teased your hole with his finger, slowly entering you and stretching you out, hooking up and rubbing right at that spot and you moaned loudly.

“Jesus, fuck, right there– Shit” A string of curses left your mouth and he grinned proudly, adding another finger to your torture, making you cry out, his name slipping out of your lips.

You felt the knot inside of you tighten, your pussy clenching around his fingers and Sam knew you were about to cum.

“Cum for me, doll” He said and quickened his movements against you and your moans got louder.

“Fuck!” You groaned loudly as you finally came against his lips, your orgasm hitting you like a truck, your eyes closing in bliss, your fingers tightening in Sam's hair.

He helped you ride your orgams until the stimulation got almost painful and you started to try and close your legs.

“T'much, Sam–” You moaned and he pulled away, your juices shining against his face as he got up from his knees and grasped your waist tightly, smashing his lips against you, the foreign taste of yourself lingering on his tongue as he attacked your mouth.

“Taste as sweet as you look” He praises and you smirked.

You glance down at his still covered legs and crotch, the tent in his pants looked almost painful and you bit your lip. He noticed that and took you in his arms again, wrapping your legs around his hips, making your sensitive core grind against his jeans and you whined.

“As much as I'd like to bend you over that table and fuck you senseless” He said, getting closer to your ear and whispering: “I want to fuck you on a bed to see your cockdrunk face when I make you cum”

You shivered, not expecting these words coming out of his mouth and you attacked his neck with kisses and bites.

“My bedroom is down the hall, on the right” You mumbled against his skin, breathless, and he carried you to the room, his hands squeezing and digging in your ass as you continued marking his skin.

He gently placed you on the bed, kissing your lips hungrily and you led one of your hands down to his crotch, palming him through his jeans and he pulled away from your lips to groan, his forehead against yours.

“Fuck me, Sam” You breathed out and he kissed you one last time before standing up and unbuckling his belt and opening his zipper, dropping his pants to the ground and taking off his shoes.

You were staring, eating him with your eyes as he took off his boxers teasingly slow, stepping out of them and looking at your face for a reaction.

Your mouth watered and your pussy clenched around nothing. He was big. You expected him to be large, he was tall after all but you still were very shocked and wondered if you'd be able to take it all.

Sam seemed to notice your worries and grasped your chin to give your lips a comforting kiss. He wasn't cocky but he was aware of his size and knew it could be intimidating.

“We'll go slow, baby, if you want to stop, just say” He assured you and you felt all fuzzy and warm on the inside. It was hard to find men that actually cared and it seemed like you hit the jackpot with Sam. You nodded and he crawled over you, smashing your lips against his again.

He rubbed his cock up and down a couple times and lined it up with your entrance making you whine in anticipation. He slowly pushed into you and you pulled away to let your mouth hang open in a soundless moan.

Sam made sure to distract you from the pain, rubbing your thighs up and down and kissing your neck and collarbones. It took everything inside him to not pound into you. You tightened around him deliciously and he pressed his forehead against your shoulder.

“You feel so fucking good Y/N, God” He whisper-moaned against your ear and you hummed, your nails digging into his shoulders, definetly leaving marks to remind him for a couple days of this encounter.

“I feel so full, it feels so good” You moaned breathy as he was almost all the way inside you, his kisses soothing your hot skin, his fingernails marking your hips as he held back to let you adjust to his size once he was all the way inside.

You felt him in your throat and it took you a couple of moments to let the pain turn into pleasure and Sam was willing to wait as long as you needed.

When you finally stopped feeling the pain of the stretch you wiggled your hips against his cock and grabbed his cheek to give him a messy kiss.

“You can move, please” You said and he pulled back and forth, both of you moaning at the feeling, his dick hitting deeper than you thought was possible.

“Y/N” Sam moans against your shoulder, his strokes inside you making his whole body tremble with the tightness. His hand roams down your body until it reaches your lower stomach. He presses his hand down against your skin and you moan loudly. He grins, his breathing heavy as his hair makes a curtain around his face.

“Oh– fucking God!” You practically scream, your eyes rolling back as your nails scratch at his shoulder. He felt impossibly deeper and he quickened his thrusts, your whole body going limp and your mouth letting out incoherent babbles and moans of his name.

He was panting as he held himself up in his elbows to look at your fucked out face, kissing your cheeks and your lower lip.

“You look so pretty like this” He said against your skin as he kept his thrusts steady and deep. "I told you I wanted to look at your pretty face...when you came undone under me."

You felt your skin tingle, your body trembling and that familiar feeling on the pit of your stomach like a fire lighting up.

"The looks you were giving me..." He groaned against your skin, his hips sttutering as his orgasm came closer "I wanted to make those beautiful eyes roll back the moment I saw you" He admitted, giving your neck a harsh bite, definetly leaving a mark.

“Sam!” You moaned out, your hand tangling itself into his hair. “I'm cumming” You warned and he quickened his pace and your head shot back, exposing your throat to him.

“Cum for me beautiful” He said, leaving a hickey just below your jaw.

You unraveled below him with a loud moan of his name, your heels digging into his ass. A few more thrusts and Sam pulled out, stroking his cock one, two, three times until he came over your stomach, groaning and panting your name.

You looked at his face, sweat sticking some hairs on his face, his eyes closed, mouth agape and his hair a mess thanks to your hands.

You smiled in a daze and traced your fingers over his face and he opened his eyes, catching you already looking back at him. He leaned down and kissed you passionately for a couple seconds until he pulled away and stood up to go to your bathroom.

He came back with a wet towel to clean you up, gentle in your sensitive sex then he left the towel on the bathroom sink and layed down on the bed beside you again, pulling you into his chest and kissing the crown of your head.

You hummed as he wrapped his arms around you, massaging your sore muscles.

“That was…” You said, not finishing. No words were able to describe what you felt.

“Yeah, it was” He confirmed, smiling.

You snuggled into his chest, your hand tracing mindless patterns against his skin. Then you started to chuckle and he looked down at you.

“What?” He said with a hint of a laugh behind his tone.

“Your brother must be pissed” You said between laughs and he started to laugh too, feeling his chest vibrating against your cheek as his hand stroked your upper arm.

“I don't care, this, you, was worth it” He said and you looked up at him with a shy smile, not knowing what else to say.

After a while of silence between the two of you you started to think a bit.

“You're leaving town soon, right?” You asked and he hummed an affirmation. You hid your frown from him. “You're welcome back anytime, you know that, right?"

You said but didn't look at his face when you felt him looking down at you and he squeezed your arm as if to say I know.

You started to fall asleep against his steady breathing, your eyes heavy.

As you were almost sleeping you felt him leave a kiss on your forehead.

“I will” He whispered and you smiled to yourself, letting yourself fall asleep in his embrace.

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A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing. Feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading. Xoxo

[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.”