#Sam winchester x you
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⋆ ࣪. — MY VALENTINE — .࣪ ⋆
WARNINGS .ᐟ . . . smut, MDNI!!! . sub!sam, dom + f!reader . piv unprotected (wrap it, ya freaks) . slight mention of edging + choking . petnames . established relationship .
GABS YAPS .ᐟ . . . happy valentine's day, angels!! hope y'all like this, it's extremely rushed bc i forgot ab it lmfaoo. this is mostly catered to the #1 sub sammy lover aka the loml @j2archives & its slightly inspired by their writing! likes, comments, + reblogs are very appreciated!! <33.
sam whimpered as you continued to ride him. petals littered the bed, matching the mess of lipstick kisses and purple love bites on his neck. his hands gripped your rocking hips, squeezing the supple skin, but not moving you. his eyebrows were upturned in pleasure while his lust-blown eyes were mesmerized by your bouncing tits; his pupils dilated at the hardened peaks of your chest, a slight ring of his green eyes showing behind them.
you reached out to his chest, slowly raking your nails down with red marks in their wake. his gaze followed down where your touch lingered. he let out a loud, whiny moan at the sight of you taking him in, a creamy ring around his base from your past orgasms.
your own noises matched the movements of your body, which brought out sam's confirmation of pleasure. "fuck! oh- please, please let me-" his head jerked back against the pillow, his eyes closing as slurred moans slipped from his open mouth. you had sped up, bouncing on his cock more frantically, searching for your next high.
"let you what, baby?" you cooed through fucked out pants, reaching to cradle one side of his head with a hand. you pulled his flushed and sweaty face down to stare back at you. "d'you wanna cum? is that it, sweetheart?" you teased with a halt of your hips, making him whine as he nodded.
"mm- please," he went to buck his hips while he squeezed yours tighter. your hand immediately wrapped around his throat, lightly choking him. "don't," you ordered before leaning down until your lips brushed his, "not yet, baby." you whispered. he crashed his lips against yours with heated noises, your lipstick smearing on his mouth for the millionth time.
you began to move slowly against him, drawing more pornagraphic mewls from your boyfriend. he savored the feeling of you; your soft, colored lips moving against his, the feel of your breasts pressed against his chest, and the wet slick raining down from your cunt onto his cock. oh how he loved the way your warm gummy walls hugged his dick so snugly, it drove him insane how perfect you were for him.
your tongues fought as the knot in your stomach got closer to breaking. you pushed yourself up, a string of saliva connecting your mouths before disintegrating when you grinded and bounced on him. sam's hands moved up to grip your breasts, fingers playing with your nipples as your orgasm washed over you.
he felt every wave of you against him. you looked down at him through your hooded lids and simply nodded, the signal making him practically jump. his lust and hunger for you was shown through his pretty lashes as he quickly grabbed you and pulled you back down to him. he held you tightly while he slammed into you.
the mixed noises of both of your moans and the wetness where you were connected filled the bedroom, the petals on the sheets were ruffled and broken around your bodies. he continued to pound up into you until he finally came undone, loud bliss coming out of him while his white spurts of cum coated your insides.
the two of you stayed like that for a while, just breathing in the scents of each other and your sex in the air. you lifted your head and smiled, "happy valentine's day, my love."
he chuckled softly, swiping your hair out of your face. "happy valentine's day, baby." he breathed before pecking your lips multiple times until it became heated once again.
tags: @sunsbaby @starzify @dulcescorderitas @soldiersgirl @ultravi0lence14 @cowboysandcigarettes @legalmente-loca @bejeweledinterludes
#gabs ⛤ writes .ᐟ#valentines day#let me ride sam pls#NEED HIM BAD#happy valentines#divider creds — anitalenia#sam winchester#sam winchester x you#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester smut#sam winchester fic#sam winchester x female reader#sam winchester x y/n#supernatural#supernatural x you#supernatural x reader#supernatural x female reader#supernatural x y/n#supernatural smut
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୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ love in stacks,
summary. sam never cared much for valentine’s day—until he met you.
pairing. sam winchester x reader
wordcount. 550
notes. happy valentine's with sammy 🩷
The library isn’t exactly where you expect to be on Valentine’s Day, but there’s something comforting about the scent of old books, the quiet hum of turning pages, the way time slows down between the shelves.
You’re scanning the spines in the history section when a deep voice interrupts the silence.
"Sorry—didn’t mean to startle you."
You turn, heart skipping a beat as you meet warm hazel eyes. The man in front of you is tall—absurdly tall—with shaggy brown hair and an apologetic smile. He’s holding a stack of books, and he’s… really, really handsome.
"It’s okay," you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Looking for something specific?"
He chuckles, glancing down at the books in his arms. "More like everything specific. Research rabbit holes, you know how it is."
You nod, smiling. "Definitely. I practically live in those."
His smile widens, like he wasn’t expecting you to understand. "Yeah?" He shifts his books to one arm and extends his hand. "I’m Sam."
You shake it, warmth spreading from your fingertips up your arm. "Nice to meet you, Sam."
His gaze lingers for a second before he clears his throat. "I know this is kind of out of nowhere, but… would you want to grab a coffee with me?"
Your brows lift in surprise. "Like… right now?"
He shrugs, lips twitching in a hopeful smile. "Yeah. I mean, unless you have Valentine’s plans—"
You shake your head. "Nope. Just me, my books, and a quiet night in."
His smile turns softer, almost shy. "Then let me change that."
The café is small, tucked into a corner of downtown, warm and inviting against the cold February air. Sam holds the door open for you, and as you step inside, the scent of coffee and cinnamon surrounds you.
He buys your drink without hesitation, brushing off your attempt to pay with a casual, "It’s my Valentine’s treat."
"You’re really leaning into this Valentine’s thing, huh?" you tease as you find a cozy corner to sit.
Sam huffs a laugh, stirring his coffee. "Honestly? I didn’t plan on doing anything today. But then I met you, and…" He shrugs. "Seemed like a good reason to change plans."
You bite your lip to hide your smile. "Smooth."
He grins. "I try."
The conversation flows easily—books, travel, weird facts you both happen to know. You learn that he’s a bit of a history nerd, that he reads ridiculously fast, that he has a brother who teases him about it.
"You’re fun to talk to," he says at one point, like he’s just realizing it.
Your chest warms. "So are you."
Time blurs, and before you know it, you’re walking side by side down the sidewalk, the library long forgotten. The city lights glow around you, and Sam looks at you like he’s thinking something he’s not sure he should say.
Finally, he stops, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Listen, I know this was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing, but… I’d really like to see you again."
Your heart does a little flip. "Yeah?"
His smile is soft, hopeful. "Yeah."
You pretend to think about it, then grin. "Okay, Sam. You’ve got yourself a second date."
The way his eyes light up is better than any Valentine’s gift you could have imagined.
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#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x you#sam wincherster fluff#sam winchester fic#supernatural#.docx#valentine's day
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Take Care of Her
Part 5 of the Uncaged series
Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous (x2)
Synopsis: Sam learning to be a big brother—inside and out of the cage
Warnings: torture, mentions of torture, I tried to include some of the actual show plot in here
“You will never be safe.”
Sam pretended he couldn’t hear the voice—it was all he could do to keep it together. He knew Dean needed him, and more than that Dean needed something to go right. If that something needed to be Sam’s mind, then Sam would fake that he was ok and hope that it just happened.
You fell asleep about halfway through the movie, and Sam could feel Dean’s eyes on him after Bobby got up to go read through more lore books. Dean had been eyeing him ever since they tried to bind Death, and Death had revealed that Sam was having hallucinations.
“Hallucinations?” Dean only spoke when he was sure you were asleep. “Really? I gotta find out from Death?”
“I…” Sam sighed. “I didn’t want to put more on your plate. I’ve got a handle on it, really.”
“On what?” Dean snapped, freezing when you stirred.
“I know what’s real and what’s not,” Sam assured him in a softer tone.
“And what about her?” Dean nodded his chin at you. “She getting these visions?”
“I don’t think so.” Sam swallowed. “At least, she hasn’t said anything to me. She’s having nightmares, but I think that’s it. I think that’s part of why I know the hallucinations have to be fake—because if it was real, she would see it too.”
“Ok.” Dean sighed, getting to his feet. “I’m gonna go help Bobby. I need you to tell me if things get worse, ok?”
“I understand.”
Once Dean was gone, Sam watched as your face started to twitch, your body squirming around in a fitful sleep.
“She’s thinking about me.” Lucifer’s voice had Sam flinching, his head whipping around to see Lucifer perched on the edge of the couch. “Thinking about that first day in the cage. Do you still remember that day, Sammy? Remember our first day as roomies?”
Sam closed his eyes tightly, hoping to will away the sight of Lucifer, but instead he got bombarded with the memories of the day his life changed forever.
You were still holding onto Sam when the two of you landed in the cage.
Sam had physically felt his soul split as he fell—an excruciating experience that ended with Lucifer’s soul now separate from Sam’s body by the time they hit the floor. He still wasn’t sure how that worked, but somehow Lucifer’s soul—essence?—showed itself in the way that Sam’s human mind comprehended Lucifer; as Nick. There was no way Nick was in the cage, and Sam knew right away that it was only Lucifer.
He didn’t know why Michael didn’t split from Adam—maybe they were more in sync than Sam was with Lucifer, more in tune to the same purpose—but to Sam, it didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered except you right now. Sam had resigned himself to the fact that he would spend eternity in the cage with Lucifer, and though he hadn’t expected Adam to be forced to join him, that wasn’t nearly as awful as this. His baby sister, latching onto him at the last minute in a desperate attempt to save him, only to end up in damnation with him.
Sam found himself holding onto you tightly while Michael dropped to his knees in utter defeat, and Lucifer shrieked in anger and despair. The human-sounding shriek quickly turned into something unearthly, a high-pitched ringing that got louder and louder. Sam slammed his hands over his ears, watching you do the same. He held his hands tightly over his ears for a long moment, until he noticed that blood was starting to drip down the sides of your face the louder the ringing got.
Sam didn’t hesitate—Dean wasn’t here to look out for you anymore. Despite the pain, Sam moved his hands from his ears to you, grabbing hold of you and tucking you against him, wrapping you into an embrace and using his own hands to cover your ears.
Finally, the ringing stopped, though it was hard for Sam to tell at first since it echoed in his head for several minutes.
Sam made a decision, in those seemingly-endless moments of pure agony as he protected you from the brunt of the pain.
Sam never saw himself as much of a big brother before—sure, he knew he was older than you, but he’d deferred to Dean when it came to taking care of you. Dean had been the one to give you the monster talk, Dean was the one with the mission to protect his little siblings, Dean was the one who took over the father role when Dad died.
But you didn’t have Dean, and you needed someone. So Sam was going to step up.
He’d had moments like this before…
Like when he was 14, and John and Dean had been out on a hunt when someone knocked on the motel door.
Sam, whose instincts had already been carefully honed, snatched up his gun and checked the peephole. Seeing nothing, he eased the door open—but it wouldn’t open more than a foot.
Still wary, Sam’s eyes flickered down and widened when they landed on a basket with a moving bundle in it. His eyes snapped back up, and he glanced furiously around for someone to take the bundle back—because with only a glance, Sam knew exactly what it was.
But no one was there.
When the bundle started to cry, Sam finally made a decision. He eased himself out the door, lifting the basket into his arms and carrying it out of the cold and into the safety of the motel room.
“It’s gonna be ok,” he whispered. He eased the pink bundle out of the basket and started to rock her. “Dad and Dean are gonna be back, and their gonna take care of you. I’m—“ Sam caught sight of a note peaking out of the basket, and he scanned it quickly. “I’m your big brother, I guess. My name’s Sam.”
Or like when he was 18, and you found his stash of college fliers. You were only 4, and Sam probably could’ve gotten away with lying to you…
But he felt like he had to tell someone.
“I’m gonna be going away pretty soon,” he told you in a whisper—Dad and Dean were out on a hunt, but he still couldn’t bring himself to speak louder, just in case.
“You can’t go away,” you argued, tears already forming in your eyes. “Whose gonna play with me when Daddy and Dean go to work?”
“C’mere…” Sam scooped you into his arms, happy when you wrapped your arms around him; that meant you weren’t mad. “I’ll bet Dean will spend some more time with you. Dad too, maybe. They’ll make sure you’re ok, I promise.”
“But I want you!” The tears were flowing now, and your words were interspersed with sobs. “Don’t go away Sammy!”
“I have to,” Sam said. “I’m gonna go to college. It’s like—like school for grown ups. They’re gonna teach me how to be a lawyer.”
“But—“ you sniffled. “But I thought you worked with Daddy and Dean.”
“I do.” Sam swallowed. “But—“ he hadn’t admitted this since he was thirteen, and his teacher asked him. “But I don’t want to do what they do. It doesn’t make me happy.”
“I want you to be happy,” you insisted.
“Thanks, kid.” Sam smiled—just a little. “But…but for me to be happy, I’ve gotta get out of here.” You didn’t say anything, so Sam kept going. “But Dad and Dean can’t know yet, ok? I haven’t told them.”
“Why not?” You rubbed at your eyes, your breaths still shaky.
“They wouldn’t understand. Not like you do. So do you promise not to tell?”
You held out your tiny hand to Sam, pinky extended. “Pinky swear.”
Or like when you didn’t keep your promise.
John was screaming at Sam, waving a fistful of brochures and Sam’s Stanford acceptance letter. Sam wasn’t about to take the fight laying down—he never did. He was toe to toe with his father, screaming right back. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered that Dean was sitting on his bed, looking dazed, and you were nowhere to be found.
When Sam couldn’t take it anymore, he threw his few belongings into a bag—John stormed up to him and tossed the papers into the bag, yelling “Fine, go!”—and headed for the door.
“If you go out that door, don’t you ever come back!” John yelled.
Sam froze in his tracks, his hand halfway extended. He took a single glance back—his eyes met Dean’s, and all Sam saw was his big brother’s pleading expression. He looked away, wanting to say goodbye to you, but you weren’t there. So he grabbed onto the handle, stepping out into the night and slamming the door behind him.
“Sammy!”
Sam was halfway into the cab when you came running out of the motel room—you must’ve been hiding.
“Hey…” Sam pulled you in for a hug. “You gotta go back inside.”
“I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m sorry I told Dean, I didn’t mean to tell him! I’m so sorry, please don’t go!” It was hard to make out your words between the sobs, but Sam understood enough.
“It’s ok, it’s ok,” he soothed, though he didn’t know if that was true. “That’s not why I’m leaving, but I have to go. Go back inside.”
“I don’t want you to go,” you sobbed.
“I—“ Sam faltered. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“I’m gonna miss you.”
Sam kissed your head. “I’m gonna miss you too. Now go on, go, it’s ok.” Sam waited until you were safely back in the motel room before he climbed into the cab.
He didn’t look back.
He’d had big brother moments…
…but none of those moments had ever had such finality and meaning.
It was a good decision—it kept him grounded for some of his time in hell, and gave him purpose. Even if it caused a lot of pain.
“You do remember that day!” Lucifer’s voice dragged Sam out of his memories. “You remember how you begged me to stop? And I told you all you had to do was step out of the way and watch while I had some fun with your baby sister. But you just wouldn’t do it Sammy.” Lucifer clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “You just had to be so darn protective. Not that it ever did her any good. I got plenty of torture in without your help, isn’t that right little N/N?” Lucifer’s hand ghosted over the side of your face, and Sam flinched.
“Don’t touch her,” he spat through gritted teeth. Your face twisted, as if you could feel the devil’s presence, but your eyes stayed closed. “Stop giving her nightmares.”
“Nightmares?” Lucifer grinned. “Oh, no Sammy, she’s with me. You’re the one in a dream right now—yeah, all this? Your perfect little life?” Lucifer gestured around them. “It’s a dream—it isn’t real. And what you’re seeing now is your baby sister sleeping, but what I’m seeing—“
The room around Sam snapped away for a split second before returning, then disappearing again. In its place, he saw the room of his waking nightmares.
He saw the cage.
And he saw you, in a position that was all-too familiar. Hooks sticking through your arms were holding you to the bars on the walls of the cage. Lucifer was standing near your hanging form, a curved blade in his hand as he cut into you again and again and again and again and—
“No!”
Bobby’s house returned in the blink of an eye, and you sat up with a gasp of terror, awoken by Sam’s outburst.
“I told you.” Lucifer grinned at Sam. “You never got out. Either of you. And you never will.”
…
He was here. You could see him. The dream was over, but Lucifer was still here.
Looking at him—sitting there on Bobby’s couch—was too much. You turned away, seeking solace in Sam’s arms—he’d stayed with you when you fell asleep on the couch.
“Bad dreams?” There was a quaver in Sam’s voice as he asked, and you wondered if he’d fallen asleep and had nightmares too.
“Yeah.” Your voice was muffled against Sam’s shirt, and you hoped he wouldn’t notice the nervous tone in your voice. You had promised never to lie to Sam, but you couldn’t tell him about seeing Lucifer—you just couldn’t. You didn’t want to scare him as much as you were already scared. You didn’t want him to start thinking what you were already afraid of; that you’d really never left the cage.
It wasn’t a lie, anyway—you really did have a nightmare. You were dreaming about that first day in the cage, and watching Sam get tortured for protecting you.
Until Lucifer got bored with that and tortured you anyway, when Sam was too bloodied up and weak to stop it.
“You’re not gonna talk about me?” Lucifer’s voice sent a shiver through you, and you burrowed further against your big brother. “You’re just gonna pretend I’m not here?”
“Sam?” You choked out. “Do…do you ever wonder if we’re still in the cage?” You held your breath, desperate for Sam to take away your fear. You knew you wouldn’t stop being scared no matter what he said, though.
“Ladies and gentlemen, give the girl a prize!” Lucifer taunted. “I think she’s got it! Of course you’re still in the cage!”
“We’re not—“ Sam’s voice caught, and he hesitated. “I…I don’t know. I really don’t.”
“Sometimes I don’t know if I’m dreaming or awake.” You whispered the words, as if afraid to shatter the tense air.
“It’s too good.” Both of you knew Sam was trying to convince himself as much as you. “He would never let us feel this happy. Right?”
“That’s what makes it fun!” Lucifer insisted. You turned your head into Sam’s chest, trying to pretend the devil wasn’t there.
You had no idea that Sam could see him too.
“I got your message.“ Cas’s voice startled you, and you pulled away from Sam to look for the source; he was standing in the doorway, and Lucifer was gone. Cas was covered in sores and blood, and he was staring right at Sam. “I need your help.”
…
It turned out that Sam had prayed to Cas, pleading with him to see reason and get rid of the souls that were consuming him from the inside out. Once Cas started to fall apart, he decided to listen to your brother.
Seeing Sam—not only ok, but solving the world’s problems—made you feel even more crazy, and ashamed that you couldn’t seem to keep it together.
“We’re ready.”
The five of you were back in the warehouse where it all began, waiting for an eclipse to open purgatory.
“We need the blood,” Dean said. “Sam, it’s on a shelf in the back hallway. Take Y/N.”
You trailed behind Sam—you were so happy they didn’t leave you behind, you didn’t care what they gave you to do.
“I think that’s it—“ you we’re just pointing to a long shelf that had a jar of blood sitting on the center of it, when a figure appeared in the hallway.
“Hey Sam.” Lucifer’s voice sent a shiver down your spine, but what surprised you wasn’t his presence; it was who he chose to speak to. Sam didn’t see him…right?
Your gaze switched to your brother, but he wasn’t looking at you. He was looking right at the devil.
“Sam?” You tried to get your brother’s attention, but he wouldn’t look away from Lucifer.
“I thought I told you to shut up.” Lucifer’s eyes were suddenly on you. That caught Sam’s attention, and now he was staring at you.
“You can see him?” Sam’s voice was barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid of his own words.
“I—I’ve—I’m—“ you were still trying to process that it wasn’t just you—that maybe you weren’t crazy. That maybe you were still in the cage after all. “I’ve been seeing him since this morning,” you admitted. “And hearing him longer. I didn’t want you to worry, I—I didn’t want it to be real.”
“Aww,” Lucifer cooed. “Both of you going mad, and neither one telling the other.”
“Shut up!” Sam snapped.
“Except—“ Lucifer continued as if Sam hadn’t spoken “—You’re both just finally realizing the truth. I never would’ve let you go, especially not both of you. You think I woulda lost both my toys like that? I mean, the fact that you believed it this long is just embarrassing.”
“Sam?” You stared up at your big brother, wanting more than anything for him to have the answer to the question you didn’t dare ask. Instead of an answer, you were rewarded with Lucifer’s hand around your neck as he shoved you around the corner of the hallway and up against the wall.
“I don’t like being ignored,” he growled.
“Stop!” Sam rushed at Lucifer, but a backhand from Lucifer’s free hand sent Sam flying back against the shelves.
“Now doesn’t this feel real?” Lucifer’s hand tightened against your throat, and your gasp for air was cut short.
“It’s…it’s not real.” Sam got to unsteady feet. “It’s just—it’s just our memories of hell leaking through. Y/N, it’s not real.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Lucifer scoffed, dropping you and turning to Sam. “But you’re about to see just how real I am.”
…
By the time the devil was done with you, you weren’t sure how much hope was left inside. But when Dean rounded the corner calling your name, you still ran to him. You still wrapped your arms around him. You still clung to him like a lifeline.
Because even if he wasn’t real, hugging him was still the best thing you’d felt for as long as you could remember.
“Hey.” Dean’s voice was gruff and on the edge of panic. “We gotta move, let’s go.”
You didn’t speak as Dean and Bobby led you and Sam outside. You lingered behind Dean, letting Sam catch up to you. As you took hold of his hand, you realized that the bloody marks and bruises Lucifer had left on the two of you were now gone.
You weren’t sure if that helped or not—Lucifer had healed your injuries countless times before, because he always thought it was more fun to give you a moment of pain relief before starting in again on the torture. As soon as your hand was in his, Sam met your eye and squeezed your hand. You squeezed his back twice, and the ghost of a smile lifted his lips.
The two of you had no idea if you were safe in the real world with Dean and Bobby, or if you were locked in eternal torture with the devil and his crazy brother.
But for now, you could hold onto each other, and it was almost enough.
…
“Sam.
“Sam.
“Sam.”
Sam jerked awake with a gasp to find Dean leaning over him. You stirred in the chair next to him, blinking your eyes open slowly—not in a tired way, though; it was more like you didn’t want to know what you would see once your eyes were open.
“Twelve hours, I’m calling that rested,” Dean went on, ignoring the terrified glance Sam shared with you. “Here.” He tossed a water bottle to you, then Sam, then followed it with a granola bar. “Hydrate, and—uh—proteinate.”
Dean then grabbed hold of Sam’s hand and peeled the bandage off—you weren’t sure when Sam’s hand got hurt, or why it was the only injury that he kept when the two of you walked away from Lucifer. But you didn’t question it—you had too many questions already.
“Aww.” You flinched when Lucifer appeared on the couch next to Sam. “He wants to hold your wittle hand.”
You watched as Sam forced his eyes on Dean, ignoring the devil completely.
“You’ll live,” Dean decided, moving aside to let Bobby rebandage Sam’s hand. “Now, I need you two to tell me what happened back there. You disappeared, and you looked pretty freaked when we found you.”
Sam couldn’t meet Dean’s eye as he spoke up for the two of you.
“It’s not just me,” Sam admitted. “She…she sees him too.”
Dean steeled his features quickly and took a deep breath.
“Him?” He asked.
Sam nodded, swallowing hard.
“It’s not just flashbacks anymore,” Sam said. “It’s—I’m having a hard time telling what’s real and what’s not. And I can see…him.”
“And you see him too?” Dean was looking at you. “You can see Lucifer?”
You nodded mutely, keeping your eyes trained on the carpet.
“So…so you guys are seeing the same thing? Every time?” Dean looked from Sam to you.
“I…” Sam tried to look at you, but you didn’t look up. “I think so.”
“Hey, any time you wanna chime in here kid,” Dean snapped.
You flinched, glancing at Dean before your gaze turned to Sam.
“Easy,” Sam told Dean. “She…it’s a lot.” Sam met your gaze head-on, and the two of you shared a near-psychic moment.
Lucifer was watching. Lucifer—whether he was real or not—could make you feel pain. Even if it didn’t leave a mark, you could still feel it.
“It’s not her fault,” Lucifer taunted. “She’s just being a good, silent little toy, just like I taught her. Right kid?”
Your gaze had returned to the floor, and Sam watched as your breathing became faster and you curled in on yourself.
“So he’s telling you that you’re still in the cage? That all this is fake?” Dean asked.
Sam nodded for the both of you.
Dean was quiet for a moment, and Sam knew he was trying to come up with some way to convince you and him that Lucifer was wrong.
“Ok,” Dean said. “Why would he give you this? Why would he make you think you’re happy when he can just kick you two all over the cage?”
“You can’t torture someone who has nothing left for you to take away.” Lucifer piped in, nodding at Sam. Sam swallowed hard, and repeated the words to Dean. “Very good Sam,” Lucifer crowed, and Sam looked away quickly.
“What about each other?” Dean pointed from you to Sam. “I mean, that seems like something he could take away.”
“It felt like we were there for a hundred years, Dean,” Sam admitted. “I…I guess we got pretty used to seeing each other tortured, and Lucifer got bored with it.”
He was right; it had been Lucifer’s favorite game to torture the two of you with each other.
Ever since the beginning, he always knew it was the most effective tactic…
“How about this?” Lucifer was wiping blood off his hands as he spoke. “My arms are starting to get a little tired. So how about—Sam, you torture your little baby sister, huh? Is that a genius idea or what?”
Sam was choking on his own blood, but he still managed a couple of words—
“Screw you.”
“Well that’s not very nice,” Lucifer scoffed. “You haven’t even heard my deal yet—you torture the kid, or I’ll rip her to shreds. Now, obviously, none of us can die down here, but I promise you; my methods of torture will be much worse than anything you could think of in your wildest nightmares.”
Sam turned to look at you—he didn’t want to make this decision.
As soon as you saw Sam looking at you, you shook your head immediately. Sam understood—he wouldn’t want to make you do that, either.
“I see you’re having trouble deciding,” Lucifer cut in. “I’ll let you two have a little chat about it, before the fun starts. But you’d better hurry up before my offer expires, and I tear you both apart piece by piece.”
Sam rushed to you, never one to waste an opportunity to talk to you.
“No, don’t,” you whimpered. “Sam, don’t. I’d rather let him rip my bones out then it be you, please. Please Sam.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Sam insisted.
“It-it’s not just that,” you told him. “I…I don’t want to look at you and think about—“
“Ok…ok.” Sam breathed a sigh of relief—the last thing he wanted to do was torture you, but if it would save you from more pain he would do it, if that was what you wanted. But you didn’t want that; you wanted—needed—Sam to be a safe person in your mind. Sam needed the same.
As long as the two of you could look at each other and see something safe, maybe you would be able to hold on to your sanity.
“But this is way more fun, right little toy?” Lucifer was tugging at your arm, trying to get you to look at him. Your breathing got even more panicked, and Sam couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scene.
“Hey, are you seeing him now?” Dean demanded.
Sam nodded mutely.
“You know he isn’t real, right?” Dean said.
Sam finally turned to look at his brother. “He says the same thing about you,” he said.
Dean’s mouth closed suddenly, and he blinked in surprise. He didn’t have anything to say to that.
“Ok.” Bobby spoke up for the first time. “It’s back to the books.”
Sam watched Bobby and Dean walk out, and when he looked back at you, Lucifer was gone. He didn’t waste the opportunity—Sam rushed to you, pulling you into his arms and holding you until your breathing evened out again.
“We’re gonna be ok,” he whispered.
You looked around, making sure Lucifer wasn’t in the room before choking out a few whispered words.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Me, Sammy?” Your lip was quivering and your eyes were scanning his face, searching for an answer he wasn’t sure he had.
“I wasn’t trying to lie to you,” Sam promised. “I just…I didn’t think it was real. I didn’t want you to think we were back there, because I didn’t want to think we were back there.” Sam brushed your hair behind your ears. “What about you? You kept this from me, too.”
“I didn’t mean to,” you mumbled. “It was only dreams at first. Then I—I couldn’t tell if I was asleep or awake sometimes. Then you seemed to be handling things so well, so I—I just thought it would go away.” You sought out Sam’s hand with your own. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it. I thought we knew each other inside and out by now.”
“I guess we were both going through so much, it was hard to see straight,” Sam said.
“Don’t do that again,” you pleaded. “We should…we should tell each other stuff like this. We went through—“ you swallowed. “Through—through everything together already. We shouldn’t have to hide anything.”
Sam smiled, and instead of responding with words, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. You smiled back, responding with two squeezes of your own.
“Well I think this is a swell idea!” You and Sam flinched at the same time when Lucifer reappeared. “Now, where were we? Oh yeah—eternal torment.”
Taglist:
@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810 @tell-elle
Uncaged Taglist:
@redbird-tf @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @o-birdseed-o @hopefuldreamers-world
#the winchesters#dean and sam#dean winchester#supernatural dean#sam winchester#winchesters x sister#dean winchester x reader#winchesters x reader#dean winchester x you#sam winchester x reader#dean winchester x little sister#dean winchester x sister!reader#dean winchester x sister#sam winchester x sister!reader#sam winchester x you#lucifer#supernatural lucifer
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valentine ── . ✶ s. winchester
summary: you've never fallen in love before until you met sam
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pairing: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x gn! reader warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', fluff, pure fluff, going on dates, kissing, title is a song by laufey of the same name, fic is lowkey based on the song, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own word count: 3.0k a/n: wow look at me writing a fic for in time for a holiday! anyways happy valentines day to me and sam winchester bc hes my valentine fr! also is the reader just the projection of my own experiences? maybe... lol but enjoy the fic <33 [heart divider by @bernardsbendystraws ] sam winchester masterlist
YOU DIDN’T HAVE the best experience when it came to love. Scratch that; you didn’t have any experience when it came to romance at all. You didn’t grow up capturing anyone’s attention romantically, which, in hindsight, should have stung, but that was just the reality of your life.
While other people were getting into their first relationships and experiencing young love for the first time, you were in the library studying or surrounded by your friends (the very little that you had). It wasn’t like you didn’t want to have a relationship with someone, but the people in your high school didn’t capture your attention. Besides, being a kid of a hunter didn’t allow you enough time to stay and like anyone in that capacity.
You were content with being alone with yourself, even from a young age. You had a morbid understanding that the life you lead didn’t allot a lot of time for living, going from state to state and town to town killing monsters always ran the risk that you wouldn’t come out the other side of those encounters.
But that all changed when you ran into the Winchesters while hunting a wendigo in the dense forests of Washington. You remember almost shooting one of them when you heard rustling in the thick bush before you heard a man’s voice shout for you to not fire your gun.
When they made it through the brush of foliage, you were met with two tall men dressed like an average hunter, but what had taken you aback was how attractive they were. You had come across some hunters in your life, but most of them didn’t look like they came off of a photo shoot for GQ Men. You had heard about the Winchesters from word of mouth (some good things, but a lot of bad things), but a key detail they missed was that they were almost devilishly handsome.
They had introduced themselves as Sam and Dean when they realized that you weren’t a lost hiker on a trail but a fellow hunter like themselves. The three of you worked out what you were hunting, and with some reluctance, you agreed to help them (Sam’s puppy dog eyes really reeled you in and sealed the deal).
It was hard to focus on the hunt when you were distracted by how much you gravitated towards Sam. In the short interactions that you had with him before the three of you found and killed the wendigo, you could tell that he was an intelligent and genuine person—but you could tell he had his walls up, and gaining his trust wasn’t going to be a one and done situation. But you couldn’t blame him. You were the same and didn’t dwell on it for too long because the three of you were in the middle of a hunt and couldn’t afford to be distracted.
You soon learned that the Winchesters weren’t that bad to be around, and it didn’t hurt that they were easy on the eyes. You were surprised when Sam asked for your number, but you gave it to him anyway, thinking that it would be an easy way to get in contact with him if either of you needed help on a hunt.
Soon enough after that initial hunt, the Winchesters (Sam) would reach out for your help, and you didn’t think at all before agreeing—leaving the town you were hanging around and meeting them in the next state over.
You found that the more you worked with the Winchesters, the harder it was not to work a hunt with them, and your growing attraction to Sam was getting harder to control. You had never felt this way towards someone in your many years of living. Sure, you’ve found plenty of people attractive as you passed through the plethora of towns you’ve traveled to, but there was something about Sam that drew you to him and, to be quite honest, scared you.
Sam was like your dream person come to life. He was like he plucked out of the romance books and novels that you liked to indulge in from time to time and dangled in front of your face—somehow always seeming to be just out of reach.
Your pining worsened after a particularly rough hunt with a pack of werewolves. You had a deep gash in your thigh from a she-wolf that was enraged that you had killed her mate and threw you into a cement wall, cracking a few of your ribs, breaking two of them, and giving you a concussion. You managed to stay standing until the three of you killed all of the werewolves, but when Sam came to check on you, you practically collapsed into his arms—which would have embarrassed you at the moment, but the pain was consuming any rational thought that was running through your brain.
Sam acted quickly and barked out to Dean that he’d have to clean up on his own as he dragged your barely conscious and pain-riddled body back to the Impala and patched you as best as he could until you guys could get back to the motel. Dean was quick to dispose of the bodies, and Sam sat in the backseat with you, tucking you into his side and providing you some comfort from Dean’s erratic driving back to the motel. You would have freaked out by being that close to Sam, but the pain was enough of a distraction from the scent of Sam filling your nostrils.
Once you guys got back to the motel, Sam was able to patch you up properly, but the damage was already done. Since you were in no condition to drive and didn’t have anything lined up for you, Sam had invited you back to the bunker with them to rest up and heal. They had invited you to see the bunker a couple of times before, but you never took them up on their offer because you didn’t want to feel like you were intruding.
You were going to say no, but Sam’s hazel eyes were wide and pleading, and you couldn’t resist the look he was giving you—so you agreed that you would stay with them until you were back at 100% again. And there was your downfall. You had a feeling that you were falling for Sam, but being at the bunker— being in close proximity to him for more than a week and having him basically wait on you since your mobility was limited, just solidified the fact that you had fallen head over heels for the taller Winchester.
Hell, your pining became so evident that Dean picked up on it and asked you about your feelings towards his brother as soon as Sam left the library to grab your pain medication from the room you were staying in for the time being. You remember your face heating up at the sudden interrogation, but you didn’t deny the fact that you liked his younger brother.
Dean teased you a little bit but turned sincere, telling you that the two of you would be a good match before teasing you again, but Sam had walked back into the library and given you your pain medication along with a glass of water to take them with.
Unbeknownst to you or Dean, Sam had overheard your conversation with his older brother. Even though he felt a little guilty that he had inadvertently intruded on a private conversation, Sam couldn’t help but feel relieved that you felt the same he did. But when Dean started to tease you again, he came back to the library, and he couldn’t help the small smile on his face as he went back to researching.
Later that night, Sam knocked on your door, and you could tell something was up. The air in the room had shifted as Sam’s nervous demeanor entered your room.
“So what’s up?” You asked him as you sat on the edge of your bed. You were wearing some sweatpants and a well-worn T-shirt you had for years.
Sam’s eyes scanned your pajamas, a smile on his face before he met your gaze—scratching the back of his neck. “I heard your conversation with Dean earlier.”
“Really?” Your heart dropped to your stomach as panic washed over you, staring wide-eyed at Sam.
Sam sensed your panic. “Yeah, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to but I heard my name and my curiosity got the better of me.”
“Oh.” You swallowed thickly as you tried to find your words. But you honestly had no idea what to say. You were mortified that Sam had overheard you admitting that you liked him to his brother, and you were stuck between leaving the room and dying of embarrassment in front of Sam.
“This isn’t going the way I thought it was.” Sam muttered under his breath before moving to sit next to you. He gently took one of your hands and held it. “I really like you. I was going to tell you soon, I just didn’t know how to tell you.”
“You just did.” You had finally snapped out of your mortified state and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
Sam chuckled at your words, making you laugh alongside him—his laughter was infectious and helped quell the panic you were feeling earlier, now being replaced with contentment and nervous excitement.
He used his free hand to grasp your chin in between his thumb and index finger. Sam looked deep into your eyes, a gentle smile on his lips. “Can I kiss you?”
“Yeah.” Your response came out weaker than you expected, but any other thought was wiped away when Sam placed his lips on yours, drawing you into a soft kiss. Your heart soared as Sam’s lips moved against yours in a gentle rhythm. You’ve kissed people before, but none of them were like this—they paled in comparison to how Sam was kissing you.
From then on, the two of you were inseparable. After you were all healed up, Sam took you out on your first date together to a bookstore that he’d been wanting to show you if you were ever in town. However, you did have some awkward moments here and there during the date due to your lack of experience in the dating realm.
You and Sam were walking through the bookstore, looking through each of the shelves for something you might want to take back to the bunker and read. Sam was on the opposite of the aisle you were in, and as you pulled a book off the shelf, you were met with Sam’s hazel gaze and bright smile.
“Hi there.” You whispered playfully.
Sam smiled wider. “Hey.” His eyes trailed over your face before meeting yours again. “God you’re so pretty.”
His compliment and the sincere tone in which he said it made your face feel hot and giddy. You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle before clamping your free hand over your mouth so as to not disturb the quiet atmosphere of the bookstore.
“Thank you. Uh, you’re pretty too.” Your response made you wince internally. You didn’t know how to respond to his compliment exactly, but Sam sent you a wide grin that showed his dimples, and you couldn’t help but mirror him.
Regardless of how awkward you felt in the moment, Sam made you feel anything but. He was aware of the lack of experience you had with dating and took it in stride. He did everything at your pace, and that made you fall for him even harder.
Though you hadn’t said those three little words to him yet, you planned to do it while the two of you were out on a date for Valentine’s Day. Yes, it was cheesy, but you wanted to let him know that you did. Sam had planned the day for the two of you, getting out of Lebanon and heading to an aquarium in Kansas City. Then, after, the two of you would get dinner and spend the night there before heading back the next day. So you packed a day bag before getting dressed, wanting to look good for the date.
It seemed Sam had the same idea because when the two of you met in the garage, Sam wasn’t wearing his usual uniform of flannel and a t-shirt underneath, but wearing a white knitted sweater you had gifted him for Christmas, some medium wash jeans, and a denim jacket of the same wash over the sweater. He looked absolutely handsome as he leaned against the truck the two of you were taking (Dean refused to let him take the Impala for the night).
“Wow! Look at you wearing something else other than a flannel.” You teased as you walked up to him.
Sam rolled his eyes at you, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Are you saying I look bad?” He joked as he reached out and took the bag from your hands.
You rested your hands on his chest, looking up at him with a smile. “Quite the opposite actually. You look handsome.”
Sam flushed slightly at your compliment, pride swelling in your chest at the sight. You couldn’t help but peck his heated cheek before patting his chest.
“Thank you.” He murmured before pecking your lips. Sam quickly placed your bags in the backseat before opening the passenger-side door for you. Then he got in the driver’s seat, and the two of you were off to Kansas City.
Before you hit the freeway for the four-hour drive, you guys stopped by the store to pick up some snacks and drinks, and the drive was filled with the sounds of the two of you singing to the shared playlist that you and Sam had or of the two of you talking.
As you got closer to the aquarium, you became excited. You had only been to the aquarium twice when you were younger and when you stayed at a school long enough to go on a field trip. You practically jumped out of the car when Sam parked it, and he couldn’t help but smile at your enthusiasm.
The two of you walked hand in hand throughout the aquarium, going through all of the exhibits and admiring what the place had to offer. But what you really wanted to see was the jellyfish exhibit. Something about them had always fascinated you, and you had been dying to see them.
Once you got to the exhibit, you were immediately enthralled with the sea creature, looking at the vast glass wall that the jellyfish were on the other side of. Sam stared at you as the spark in your eye grew, and you looked in awe at the jellyfish. He felt his heart warm at the sight as a contented smile played on his lips.
You felt Sam tug at the hand he was holding, capturing your attention. You managed to rip your gaze away from the sea animal, only for them to be captured by Sam’s eyes. They looked blue due to the glow of the water reflecting into the room.
The room was empty, save for you, Sam, and the jellyfish. He pulled you closer to him, Sam’s hand landing on your cheek as his eyes glazed over with love and adoration.
“I love you.” Sam said as he stared deep into your eyes.
You couldn’t help the shock and the slight fear that flooded your veins at hearing the words falling from his lips. Although you had planned to tell him later that day, it signified that now you had something serious with Sam and that you had more to lose.
Sam saw the flicker of fear in your eyes. “You don’t have to say it back now, but I needed to tell you before anything happened. This life we live, it doesn’t–”
“I know Sam.” You cut him off, placing your hand on top of the hand that was on your cheek. You smiled at him reassuringly before a small laugh escaped you. Sam sent you a confused smile at the sound of your laugh.
“It’s just, I planned to tell you after we went to dinner.” You explained after answering his unasked question.
Sam smirked. “Well, it’s not like you said it back or anything, you still have time.”
“I wanted to be the one to say it first.” You couldn’t help but give him a mock pout.
“I can take it back if you want honey.” Sam teased as he leaned closer to you.
You rolled your eyes at him before placing your lips on his. Sam chuckled against your lips before sinking into the kiss.
“I love you too.” You muttered against his lips when you drew back from the kiss.
Sam smiled wide before pulling you into another kiss, pouring all of his love, devotion, and passion into it. You returned the kiss with as much fervor as he did, but before it could get any more heated, you were reminded that the two of you were in public and pulled away from him. He chased your lips, making you giggle. Sam’s eyes snapped open; it seemed that he was reminded of where he was, and he chuckled.
Sam looked down at his watch. “There’s some time left before it closes, did you want to look around some more or grab some dinner early?”
“We can look around some more, I’m not hungry yet.”
Sam nodded. “We can do that.”
The two of you made your way out of the jellyfish exhibit—Sam’s arm was around your waist as he kissed your temple before the two of you looked at other exhibits in the aquarium.
You honestly still can’t believe that Sam was yours, but you were incredibly grateful that he was. You silently thank whatever higher power that was out there that you were able to love Sam and that he reciprocated your feelings. You had a lovesick smile stuck on your lips all night, and Sam couldn’t help but match the one on your lips until the two of you fell asleep in each other’s arms.
#daisy writes#heres a valentine's day fic for sammy#would have written smut for him but im all smutted out LOL#so heres some fluff instead <3#sam winchester#sammy my boy#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x you#sam winchester x gn reader#sam winchester x gn! reader#sam winchester one shot#sam winchester fluff#sam winchester fanfiction#supenatural#spn#supernatural x reader#spn x reader#supernatural fluff#spn fluff#supernatural one shot#spn one shot#supernatural fanfiction#spn fanfiction#valentines day
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Intentions
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pairings/characters: (pining) sam x you, dean is barely there
summary: after a disappointing call from your father regarding your place with in the family, sam is the only one who can truly understand and offer you the support you need to process this heartbreak
warnings: disowning, strained family dynamic, alone for the holidays, a dad💀
word count: 2,892
A/N: this was a request by the lovely elle (@blossomingorchids), i hope i struck the tune you were looking for. this was SO much fun to write!!!🧎🏻
———————
The Life was never easy. Jumping from town to town, motel to the backseat of your shitty sedan, diners and dive bars- it was completely contradictory of luxurious. But one thing you could always rely on was the gratification of seeing your family.
After what has felt like months of isolation and constant grind, it was now the holiday season. Snow blanketed the icy ground, framing the view from where you sat on a motel porch, reminding you of such. It had been too long since you’ve seen your family and you didn’t have to reach out to know that your mother would give you a piece or two of her mind in regards to your lifestyle.
You missed her birthday, the more notable holidays you celebrate in the autumn months, and now maybe the last monumental holiday of the year- but you’ll make it work.
Finally, after weeks of hoping, days of organizing, and a quick vampire hunt with the Winchesters, you plan to bid the boys an early goodbye in preparations for visiting your family. Your chest swells with uncontainable excitement at the thought of surprising your mother.
Currently, you nursed the rest of your beer handed to you earlier by Dean and watched as lazy waves of fresh, flakey snow settled on the already icy mounds that coated any greenery turned brown due to a frosty death.
You waited for the buzzing adrenaline from your hunt to drain as you claimed this too cold and wildly uncomfortable patio chair as yours. Sam occupied the other chair and Dean simply leaned onto the hood of his precious baby. You all watched the innocent weather- doing what it does and leading you and all other occupying humans to adjust accordingly to its indomitable force.
The weather almost makes you worry about not making it back to your childhood home- almost.
At this point, nothing can stop you from coming home and seeing the warmth of a motherly glow emit from her smile or seeing the threat of tears in your fathers lids. Maybe you’re setting your expectations too high, claiming your own presence in your family’s home to be too monumental of a regard- but the ache in your chest overrides any fear and settles the homesick nostalgia deeper into your very being.
It was going to be a great holiday.
“How we feeling ‘bout another round?” Dean asks, thrusting himself to his feet from the hood of Baby.
“Count me in,” Sam tips his almost empty bottle, keeping his eyes focused out to the beyond of snow.
“I’ll pass, I have to get on the road soon if I want to make it by breakfast,” you sit up, placing your empty bottle with an echoing clink on the pavement of the sidewalk below.
“Are you sure you're up for the drive? It’s still a good four hours,” Sam said with a raised brow, finishing off his drink, and referring to your hometown just a few hours north.
“Hells yeah,” you scoff a quick jerked smile, unable to contain the simmering excitement. You just loved surprises. “I’ll probably have to hit the road soon though. Don’t want the alcohol to make me too sleepy,” you sit up, pulling out your phone to check the time- 2:32 AM.
“Just be safe, yeah?” Sam asks with a simple and polite smile that he uses to cover his deeper worry of your mental state on such little sleep after two beers and an adrenaline filled hunt.
Before you can respond though, your phone rings with a call. Your fathers name flashes on the screen. The lax expression hardens like oobleck at the slap of reality- why is he calling so late? Your previous restless excitement freezes into a still under-layer of stiff bone.
“Excuse me,” you say mindlessly, standing and walking a few paces to the field beside the motel, swiping to answer the call.
“Dad?” You ask, a subconscious fear that they’re in trouble tearing a ripple in your speech.
“Hey, kid,” his tired and strained voice forces through the call- you can almost see the stubble on his chin from the pull in his voice.
“Is everything okay? Why are you up so late?” You ask, the blizzard of nerves tangling up every overthought under your skin putting you on edge.
“We’re fine, kiddo, all is well here- just…” his voice trails, harnessing something with a weight beyond a few loaded words. He sighs, a heavy puff. “We’ve been talking and-,” your dad takes another simple pause, and you imagine him running a hand down his face with a slight eye roll like he usually does in times of exhausted stress. “We just think that maybe it’s better off that you’re not around for the holidays.”
As if Medusa tiptoed out from the woodwork, your body settled like stone. A heavy, weighted dread that shredded any emotion above contentment settled deep in your stomach and you felt six years old again.
“What do you mean?” The words ghost past your lips without registering their syllables.
“Look, honey. You know we love you. I just think that it’s better off that you’re not around for the holidays,” he sighs, “your mother worries so much for you but- but the longer you’re gone, the easier it is for her to relax. I know that you probably couldn’t even make time for us anyways,” the disappointment cuts deep.
“Dad-.”
“No, I get you're ‘saving the world’ or whatever, but you still have a responsibility with us. Your siblings feel your absence, your mother grieves for a child she hasn’t lost- all because of your need to be self-sacrificial. Your duty isn’t to the strangers you help, it’s to the family you neglect,” his words pour out with a confident slur and you deduce he’s been drinking. “Just do us a favor and don’t show up. Don’t remind us how close we are to losing you or how your absence has left us disappointed in the adult you’ve become. It’s better that you just stick with the life you chose instead of teetering back and forth between suicide and comfort.”
You’re speechless. The words that you’ve queued for retaliation dissolve under his spewing confidence. He is angry and hurt and drunk. You can picture him now- freshly abandoned recliner with a double six-pack worth of Bud’s scattered about the side table. He’s pacing the homey living room that’s frosted with warm holiday decor, probably the only one awake in the house. The house that’s full of your family. Your family.
Your entire family is in that home and you’re here.
Your entire family?
A family.
Not yours, not anymore.
“If you’ve ever cared for us, don’t bother. We’ve anticipated your reckless death for so long it may as well be fate. I love you, kid, but just forget about us like we have you.”
The line is dead before the words fully settle into your bones like the enochian sigil Cas implemented years ago- maybe even replacing it with the force at which it was etched.
Sure, your father has always been emotionally distant and your relationship with him strained, but you never imagined him speaking to you like that. The brutal honesty of his poisoned words have done their damage though, securing all of your doubts and insecurities of your place in your family.
It was a tough decision- you promise it was. You tried college, even gave a normal life the previously proclaimed try, but it didn’t fit. It felt like you had stuck yourself into a fizzy bottle of cola that threatened to spit you out at any moment. It was too strict, too encompassing, and too expectant. However, since you’ve been on your own and riding the Eisenhower roads from troubled town to troubled town, you’ve found your purpose. You’re skilled, stealthy, witty- made for The Life. And it was hard to abandon the path paved for you by your family’s privilege, but it was necessary for you to feel comfortable in your own skin.
Your arm loses its stability and your wrist slacks back to your side, barely clutching your phone in your hand.
The field beyond is wavy with white powder and the quiet that is absorbed by it solidifies your presence. You turn back to see Sam accept a fresh beer from his brother. Dean settles back into his spot on the sleek black hood of his personified ego, uttering unintelligible words with an effortless smirk.
You pocket your phone and cast one more envious glance along the steady horizon.
Walking back to the brothers, your embedded guilt worsens as you feel the shift of energy amongst the trio.
“Everything okay?” Sam asks first because of course he does.
“Slight change of plans,” you sniffle, refusing to feel embarrassed since you can blame the simple act on the freezing temperatures around you. “I can take you up on that other round,” you attempt a casual smirk to Dean as you settle back into your chair. The brothers share a glance.
“Who was that?” Sam asked with a slight tick of his head toward your phone, his gaze latching onto the direction of the pocketed item.
“My dad,” you sink into the previously comfortable position that now feels like a lazy river that’s swirling you down into a nothingness pit of, well, nothing.
“Heard,” Dean nods, kicking himself off the hood and heading back inside to retrieve an ice cold beer. In hindsight, he could’ve left the packs outside on the icy pavement and saved himself a trip or two.
“What did he say?” Sam sits forward, resting his elbows on his knees and slacking the fizzing bottle in his bruised hand- marked from previously saving your ass from the clutches of a blood-drunk vamp.
“Basically told me I’m not-,” your words start with such baffled confidence but quickly melt into heartbroken speechlessness. You sniffle, unable to blame it on the cold this time due to the stray tear that rolls down your cheek.
You’ve confided in Sam more than once about your rocky relationship with your family but it was still difficult to formulate the situation for another to envision.
“Said it’s better I don’t come home. That I’ve only disappointed and worried them with my ‘choices’. I think he disowned me,” the last five words melt out in a guttural despair. The reality hits, the meaning of your fathers words and the implications of them already saving themselves a spot in the newest dictionary. It’s settled. You’re alone.
“He said that?” Sam bucks back in a shocked confusion, his brows furrowed in misunderstanding.
“He sounded so done with me. Like he would rather accept losing me than my ‘flaky’ appearances. Like they’d all be better off,” the words waver your volume, causing an embarrassing sob to rip from your lips.
Soft shuffling followed by a nearly inaudible click of a door latching, lead to Sam’s warm hand on your back. His fingertips curl slightly, causing his nails to trail a short and sweet drag over your clothed skin.
“I’m so sorry,” his words are genuine. They’re loaded and meaningful. You can almost hear your own heartache in his voice but the feel of his palm steadying you settles the second threat of a sob.
“Family is hard,” he starts, his thumb caressing over the wrinkled folds of your jacket that ripple under his influence. “You’ll never be able to please everyone, and you’ll never be able to rise to their unreasonable expectations. I know you,” he sets his bottle on the pavement and uses his now free hand to push back some of your fallen hair. “You’re kind, caring, strong, empathetic. You try so hard for the approval of others and I hate that you don’t receive the respect you deserve for the effort you contribute.”
He’s quick and organized, almost like he’s practiced this before. For you or himself? You don’t know, but crafted for a misunderstood child for sure.
“Unconditional love is the one thing each and every one of us is entitled to from birth but is unfortunately the one thing that’s rarely supplied to us. I’m so fucking sorry that the people responsable for giving you that would cast you aside like this.”
His free hand rests on your knee, almost like he’s trying to funnel the depth of his words upon your skin.
“You’re doing the right thing, yaknow,” he says and you know he’s considering the insecurities you’ve once disclosed with him. “This life is hard and complicated and isn’t made for just anyone. You’re talented and smart and-,” he halted. When you look up, his lips are pressed thin and he’s obviously holding back.
“I’m just sorry,” he shakes his head, deciding to finish his projected rant, his grip on your form stiff but assuring.
The night is still- silent. The tiny crystals falling from the clouds above settled on the frozen blankets with soft clinks and trickles. Icy rain, almost. The sound is melodic.
“I don’t understand how he can default to this- accepting my fate as if I’m walking a damn plank,” you sniffle, wiping away a few more tears that stain your skin with almost freezing force due to the weather.
“He’s hurting,” Sam defaults, “he’s scared and he doesn’t understand. But that’s still no excuse.”
A comfortable but emotionally aching silence settles between you two. Dean’s taking too long with your beer but you remember the click from earlier was the motel door closing, offering you and his younger brother some space.
“Me and Dean didn’t have much planned for our Christmas, we never do,” he scoffs a soft chuckle, “but we can make an effort for you. I know that Dean secretly loves building gingerbread houses.” Sam nudges you softly, hoping to lighten the tension embedded in your shoulders.
You appreciate his effort, you really do, but your fathers words are still fresh. His voice still echoes in your skull, reminding you of all the ways you’ve disappointed them in your life.
Sam can see the conflict in your tense features. You’ve now buried your face in your palm but by the scrunched skin that lines your hidden eyes, he can tell the toll this incident is taking on you. He really hopes his words of encouragement weren’t too preachy but were instead a helpful chant you needed to hear. He definitely knows how it might have helped him when he was hurting badly.
He knows the feeling all too well. He’s disappointed John, Dean, Bobby. Just about everyone he’s looked up to in his life has casted back down a look of disgusted contentment that framed him like a spotlight- showing how his once innocent infantile being was now an abdominal hallmark of the literal apocalypse.
All his life, his skin has felt wrong, his hands moved in a way he didn’t want, even his body ached for a taunting drug that led him to his most regrettable moment, but he always intended good. He always sought felicity for those around him. And he never intended the pain his actions inflicted on those he only wanted to protect.
And selfishly, worst of all, he was constantly misunderstood. Something he wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemy. Hell, even Lucifer had his reasons.
He knew his speech was a lot of ‘self-help’ words you would almost want to cringe at, but he desperately wanted- no, needed. Fucking needed, you to know that despite all of whatever your father said to you, that Sam knew your intentions were selfless and thoughtful. That you aren’t just some dumb kid who took up this life on a whim.
“You’re doing the right thing.” And that. That is what settled with you the most. It’s what you believed, but until now, you trusted no one to remind you.
“Then why does it feel so wrong?” You peak out from the comfort of your own palm again.
“Because it hurts,” he says with a sympathetic cringe. “Because life isn’t fair and acceptance is a curse.”
The crystals continue to fall all around you two. Sam’s firm hold on your knee and repetitive caress on your back keep you steady.
“But I can promise you one thing,” he says with emphasis that implies he’ll continue once you look at him fully. “You’ll never lose us,” Sam means him and Dean out of obligation, but he wishes to specify himself. He wishes to make himself stand out a bit higher to remind you that you aren’t just another hunter friend with relatable baggage but yet a good friend which he shared a profound bond with.
You’re different. He’s different. But to each other, you’re the same.
To each other, you’re worthy of love without bounds, you’re deserving of a microphone to defend yourself with, you’re obligated a benefit of the doubt.
For each other, you’re always there to listen, examine, and determine a deeper understanding of intent and not initial thought.
With each other, you’re whole. You’re beyond a mutual understanding. You’re quite simply understood. And even when you aren’t, there is still the unspoken promise of patience to be understood.
Sam Winchester offers more than you feel you’ll ever deserve. But for him, he fears he could never supply you just enough.
———————
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: @blossomingorchids
#supernatural#sam winchester#fanfiction#fandom#supernatural fanfiction#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester angst#sam winchester x you#supernatural angst#spnfandom#spn fanfic#sam winchester one shot#sam winchester oneshot#sam winchester hurt/comfort
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Same As It Ever Was
Summary: You had tagged along with the Winchester brothers for a few years at this point, and had yet to take a vacation. With a break in between cases, it seems like the perfect time. However, the vacation turns into anything but a break when you go missing.
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, platonic!Dean Winchester x Reader
WC: 6,100
Notes: This idea has been gnawing at me for DAYS a reasonable amount of time. Pardon the length, I have a lot to yap about. I was inspired by the song 'Once in a Lifetime' by the Talking Heads. :) Enjoy!
TW: Angst! Fluff! Brief moment of "suicide" & mentions of death.
It seemed like you and the Winchesters never got a break. Everything was always heavy on your shoulders, your communal burden to bear. However, there was a break in between cases, a rare phenomenon these days. You were in desperate need of a mini vacation. Pitching it to Dean, however, might have proved to be the hardest part.
“Please Dean! We deserve a break, something nice for a change. Don’t you agree, Sam?” you looked over to the taller brother. He nodded, but put his arms up in defense. “I’m staying out of this. But she does have a good point…” Sam trailed off, a certain tone in his voice. Dean rolled his eyes and threw up his hands in exasperation, “Fine.”
Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard convincing him.
You knew everything was taking a toll on him too, but he was always so stoic on the outside. You could only imagine what was going on behind his emerald green eyes.
“Where to?” Dean asked as you slid into the front seat of the Impala, trying to flee the Texas heat. Sam slipped into the backseat, yawning. “Don’t care, but preferably somewhere with smooth highways.” You chuckled, looking back to see Sam propping himself up against the door already, cozying himself enough to take a nap. “I could use some sun and water. Fishing, swimming, suntanning, the whole nine yards!” you replied excitedly. “Good enough for me,” Dean responded, smiling over at you.
And with that, you were off, headed towards the nearest lake. Sam’s soft snores could barely be heard over the music Dean had put on, a band you were unfamiliar with. Every once in a while, you would sneak glances at Sam, reveling in his peaceful, sleeping frame. He almost seemed too big for the backseat in the position he was in, but you knew it had always been his comfort spot, right behind the passenger seat where Dean used to sit.
You had a small crush on Sam for a little while now, but you knew it would be foolish to act upon. You were sure he didn’t see you more than a best friend or little sister, just as Dean had. After the third or fourth glance of yours toward Sam, Dean piped up, “You know, you should tell him.” You flushed, looking out the window at the passing of shrubs and blurry road lines to hide your face. “Tell who what?” You tried to deny, putting as much cluelessness in your voice as possible.
Dean scoffed and let out a chuckle, “That’s some great acting. Almost like Rooney Mara in A Nightmare on Elm Street.” You sneered and rolled your eyes. “Dean, there’s nothing to tell him,” you dismissed, shaking your head. “I see the way you two look at each other, like two beat puppies. It’s a little gross and sappy, even for me,” he quipped. You opened your mouth to reply, but settled on a playful middle finger shot his way. He smiled, a chuckle his only response.
You had never noticed Sam looking your way, was Dean right or just egging you on? That question had you pondering for the rest of the ride to Canyon Lake, a little way outside of San Antonio. Dean had pulled into a shabby motel on the outskirts of town. It looked slightly run down, but you couldn’t complain. At least it was a room to yourself and a mattress to sprawl out on.
Dean went inside to reserve two rooms, one for you and one for them. Sometimes, to save on costs, you three would share a room if they had a pull-out couch or cot available. You always insisted on taking the latter, but Sam would never let you win the argument. One time, he went as far as to move you to his bed while you slept, while he took your spot on the couch.
Sam was awake now, thanks to Dean slamming the door on his way out of the car. “Mornin’ sunshine,” you greeted in a thick, terrible Texas drawl. “Morning,” he croaked, sleep still heavy in his voice. “Where are we?” You opened up the passenger side door and swung your legs out, “Canyon Lake, Texas. Dean’s grabbing us a couple of rooms.” You made your way to the trunk, closing the Impala’s door lightly.
Sam exited the car as well, joining you to grab his duffel. “How’d you sleep?” you asked as you grabbed your bag from the car. Before he had a chance to respond, Dean walked up. He handed you a key, “Number 27, we’re right next to you in 28.” “Thanks,” you said, wrapping the keychain around your finger. You found your room quickly, there wasn’t very many to pick from.
The motel room wasn’t anything to write home about. It was small, outdated, and the paint was faded. There was a queen size bed in the middle of the room, covered in threadbare sheets that look like something that came out of your grandma’s house. The air was stale and dusty, making you sneeze as you walked in and shut the door behind you. You opened the single window the room had and turned on the AC to get the air circulating.
You laid on the bed, lost in your thoughts, still focusing on what Dean said earlier. Did his words hold any truth or was this just a play to try to get his brother laid again? The air conditioner struggled, whirring and squeaking, the only noise besides your quiet breathing.
It was almost like meditation, getting lost in your thoughts of Sam.
Your stomach gurgled, breaking your concentration. You sat up, looking out the window. The soft breeze rustled the sagebrush in front of the motel. The sun was lower now, nearing its end of service for the day. You slid off of the bed, combing your fingers through your hair prior to making your way out the door. You knocked on Sam & Dean’s door before entering, not waiting for them to answer.
“Hey, I’m hungry, who wants pizza?” You asked as you walked in, closing the door behind you. “I’m in,” the brothers said in unison. “Jinx, you owe me some pie!” Dean called out with a huge smirk. Sam smiled and shook his head, hair ruffling with the movement. You googled the nearest pizza place and placed an order for delivery, you didn’t need to ask what they wanted after spending as much time with them as you had.
“Anybody in the mood for a movie?” Dean asked. Sam looked up from his book towards you, seemingly trying to read your mind. “Depends, what movie?” you ask, shooting Sam an inquisitive look. Dean scrolled through the TV guide mindlessly, naming off each movie. “…The Truman Show, Forrest Gump, Click, Groundhog Day… c’mon make up your mind! I’m running out of movies,” Dean complained, eyes flicking between you and the screen. “Forrest Gump, I haven’t seen that in a while,” you decided, only half interested in the movie. “Finally,” Dean muttered under his breath, selecting the option on the screen.
The pizza was delivered shortly into the movie. You made yourself comfortable on Sam’s bed, laying on your stomach with your arms propping you up to get a better angle of the TV. You swore you felt Sam’s eyes rake over your body several times, but decided it was your overactive imagination. After all, you were wearing an oversized shirt and athletic shorts, not exactly your definition of eye-grabbing or sexy.
After Forrest Gump was over, Dean insisted on watching Se7en for what seemed to be the umpteenth time. By then, the sun had set and the pizza was gone, only some crusts of Sam’s and crumbs left. Your eyes grew heavier as the night went on, parts of the movie skipping as you came in and out of consciousness.
You were awoken by a blanket being draped over you. You sucked in a breath and stretched, rolling over to your back to see Sam, a slight smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Sorry, you looked cold,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “No, thank you. I should probably get back to my room, though,” you said in a sleep-laced tone. “No, if you’re comfortable here, I can take your room,” he replied.
You thought on it a second, before Dean’s snores interrupted you. “No thanks, you can tune out Dean better than I can,” you chuckled, slowly sitting up and stretching your arms above your head before gracefully bringing them down on either side of you. Sam smiled and let out a soft, breathy laugh in response. You stood, joints cracking and groaning, silently making your way towards the door. Sam followed, opening the door for you, “Sweet dreams.” “Goodnight Sam,” you replied as you brushed a hand against his shoulder.
A blush grew in your cheeks, but you ducked into your room before he had the chance to notice. You locked the door behind you, tiredly plodding over to your rented bed. You flopped down, your head barely hitting the pillow before falling asleep. One of your many talents.
The next morning, you awoke to a knock on your door. “Rise and shine, sleeping beauty! Let’s get some grub,” Dean’s voice called from the other side of the thin wood. Leave it to Dean to always be thinking of food. “Be there in a minute!” you called through the door, already on your way out of bed. You ruffled through your bag, trying to decide what to wear. You didn’t have many choices to pick from, so deciding on a shorter sundress came quickly.
You didn’t have many clothes, let alone nice clothes, so this was a treat. You scrounged up your bathing suit from the bottom of your bag, slipping it on underneath your dress. You struggled for a moment to tie the top of your bikini, but finally managed after contorting yourself around in the mirror. You opened your door to Sam, standing right in the doorway. “Hey, uh, Dean asked me to come get you, said you were taking too long,” he mumbled, looking down at you.
“Here I am!” you smiled playfully. “Did you grab your swimsuit?” He shook his head no, then quickly dipped back inside his room. He reemerged a few moments later, Dean and swim trunks in tow. The three of you started off towards the Impala, the sun already almost unbearable. ‘The perfect kind of day for a swim’, you thought to yourself as you loaded into the car.
Dean drove to a grocery store just a few blocks from the motel. You picked up sunscreen and food for lunch, you planned to have a picnic on the sandy shore of the lake. Dean grabbed a donut for breakfast, while Sam grabbed a protein bar. You were never much of a breakfast person, but you grabbed a smoothie from the premade section as something to tide you over.
You checked out and headed over to the Impala, the sun blaring down. The drive to the lake was short, or perhaps you were just very excited. It had been a while since you’ve taken a break and even longer since you went swimming. Dean parked his baby in a shady parking spot, toward the end of the lot. You hopped out of the car, towel and cooler in hand, and eagerly headed towards the water.
Sam and Dean headed toward the changing area as you searched for a spot to claim for the day. Finally, you found a nice area close to the water with a bit of shade and soft sand. You gently laid your towel down, placing the cooler next to it. Sam and Dean had caught sight of you and headed over as you opened the cooler, grabbing a beer for everyone. It was five o’clock somewhere!
When they had reached you, Dean grabbed a beer with a soft “Thanks,” as he popped the top and took a swig. You tried not to stare at Sam, but he was shirtless and the sun was hitting his frame perfectly. He looked sublime, like an angel sent from above. Sam smiled, “Starting a little early, are we?” You returned his smile, breaking your gaze off of his toned chest and teased, “When in Rome, Samuel,” He scoffed and rolled his eyes, grabbing a beer from you, “It’s Sam.”
Dean laid his towel a few feet away from yours, taking a seat in the shade. You popped the top off of your beer, taking a swig before setting the bottle in a cupholder on top on the cooler. The breeze carried the smell of lake water, earthy and inviting. You took a deep breath, inhaling in the refreshing smell before sliding your dress off, revealing your bikini underneath.
“I’m gonna hit the water,” you called out behind you, towards the boys as you skipped across the hot sand towards the water. You couldn’t look at Sam, getting lost in his muscular build was too tempting. You could feel his eyes, though, staring at you from his vantage point by the cooler.
You slowly waded into the semi-clear water, its small waves lapping at your ankles, then your shins, thighs, all the way until you were finally submerged at the chest. You turned around, looking towards the shore at the brothers. Dean had already invited himself to your neighbor’s spot, chatting up a cute girl. Sam was sitting in the shade, next to the cooler, watching you. You waved at him before turning around, pushing off from the last spot you could touch on the lake’s bottom.
You swam further out, a few hundred yards from shore. You could see Sam still, but he looked like a little blurb on the horizon, Dean was nowhere in sight. You dove underneath the calm surface, looking to get your hair wet so it was out of your face. Something brushed against your leg, almost tangling against you. Your heart skipped a beat, even though you told yourself it was probably a fish or some sort of plant.
You quickly reemerged from the lake’s murky drink, treading water and wiping the hair away from your face. You looked around, but your surroundings seemed…off. Was there this much foliage? You started swimming towards shore, which seemed closer than before, but with each stroke of your arm your worries faded further away. After all, you needed to relax, that’s what your mini-vacation was all about.
As you got closer to shore, you stood up, walking up to the bank. A corgi bounded up to you, clearly very excited. You smiled, bending down to pet it, “Hi pup, where’s your family?” The dog barked happily in response, running around your legs. “Eve! Let your mom get out of the water,” a familiar voice called out. You head swiveled around to see Sam, shirtless and gleaming in the soft sunlight.
You smiled at him, a soft blush creeping up in your cheeks. “Hey honey, here’s your towel,” he said, offering you a neatly folded beach towel. You gladly accepted, covering your frame with the oversized cloth. You looked around the recreation area, it didn’t feel nearly as hot as it did before you got into the water and it wasn’t as crowded. You told yourself it was just the chill from the lake, but something seemed off.
Sam bowed down to kiss your lips, too surprised to move or reciprocate, you stood there, eyes open as he brushed his lips against yours. “Woah, that…” you managed to squeak out. “After all this time I still take your breath away, huh, Mrs. Winchester,” he chuckled, brushing a stray wet strand of hair behind your ear.
When did you two get married? Hell, when did you start dating? “What are you talking about?” you questioned, backing a few steps away from Sam, or what seemed to be him. “Honey, are you okay?” he asked, concern laced in his deep voice. You paused, trying to take everything in. The water lapped at the shore, quietly crashing into the bank. A wave of calm washed over you, quelching any worry you had.
“I think I’m just tired,” you dismissed your feelings, placing your head on his muscular shoulder. He wrapped his arms around you protectively and kissed your forehead. “Let’s go home then, sweetie,” he cooed into your ear, kissing the top of your head once again before breaking his embrace.
He called the dog – Eve, that was her name, right? – and she came bounding over, small legs working overtime. “Let’s load up, pup,” he said, walking over to a white Chevy Silverado. He opened the door before grabbing the dog and placing her in the vehicle. He closed the door, walking around back to close the tailgate before opening up the passenger door. You had stood in the same spot he left you in, a slight headache starting to form.
Something was off, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.
You slowly walked over to the truck, barefoot and still wrapped in the beach towel. Sam stood, still waiting by the passenger door, a smile plastered on his face. “Hop in, pretty lady.” You picked up your pace a bit, quickly closing the gap between the two of you. Holding the towel with one hand, you used the other to hoist yourself into the tall truck. Sam shut the door after you, making sure you were fully inside before doing so.
Sam walked around the front of the truck, opened the door and gracefully slid into the driver’s seat. With one push of a button, the truck roared to life, and you started on your way down the road. The first part was bumpy, but quickly smoothed out as the gravel transitioned into pavement. You spent the entire ride looking out of the window, semi-familiar surroundings passing you by.
‘Eve, I’ve a feeling I’m not in Texas anymore,’ you thought to yourself as you pulled up in the driveway of a sturdy two-story residence designed without the least bit of personality, a white picket fence spanning the perimeter.
Again, you heard water lapping around you, just faintly enough that it seemed like a memory. Your head throbbed for a moment, before another wave of calmness washed over you, curing your headache. Everything was going to be okay.
Sam cut the engine and looked over at you, seemingly studying your face. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he observed, reaching a large hand towards you. You nodded, trying to ease his worry, “Yeah, I think the sun sucked out all of my energy.”
He chuckled, placing his hand over yours, fully engulfing it. His hands were soft, not at all hardened by scars and calloused like you remember. You made a mental note to ask him about his moisturizer routine. He gave it a reassuring squeeze, shutting the truck off with his other hand. He removed his palm from yours to undo his seatbelt buckle from the lock, with a click he was free.
He opened up his door, swinging his legs out, feet hitting the pavement with a soft thud. You unbuckled your seatbelt, head still fuzzy, in the same motion opening the truck door. “Woah, almost got me there!” Sam called out, dodging the opening door. “Shit! Sorry,” you apologized, reaching out to grab the door, but missing as it swung further open. “Don’t worry about it, honey,” he soothed, offering his hand to help you down.
You accepted, taking his hand in yours and slid out of the truck. Eve hopped into the passenger seat, taking your place, tail stub wagging. She leaped at you and you quickly caught her, loosening the towel you still had wrapped around your body. “Woah, be careful,” you told her, scratching her neck with the hand closest to her head. Sam closed the truck door behind you, fiddling with the fob in his hand to lock it.
You slowly walked up the driveway, ditching the towel along the way, Eve still in your arms, Sam just behind you. He stopped to pick up your fallen cover, gently draping it over his arm. The porch creaked as you climbed up the steps towards the front door. Sam fiddled with his keys, metal on metal softly clanking, until he found the right one and opened the lock. He pushed open the door and gestured for you to go first. “Thank you,” you smiled to him, setting your dog down before entering the house. Eve disappeared around the corner as Sam closed the door behind you two.
The entryway was cozy, perfectly designed to your standards. Looking towards the living room, the stylistic choices carried, inviting a certain warmth and cohesiveness to the space. “Wow, this place is beautiful,” you whispered to yourself. “I know, you did such a great job. It’s not as beautiful as you, though,” he replied, slipping off his shoes. You blushed at his compliment, before mumbling a quick “Thank you.”
You didn’t remember designing a house. Hell, you didn’t remember buying a house. Thinking back to seeing Sam at the lake, you didn’t remember seeing any of his scars across his body, or his tattoo on his chest. What the hell was happening? How did you get here, in this bizzarro world?
The sound of waves breaking against shore suddenly slammed back into your head, sending you reeling. You tried to steady yourself against the wall, but reached out to nothing. Sam had caught you instead, steading your frame against his. The sound of waves ebbed away slowly, replaced by a massive headache and a wave of tranquility.
“Honey, are you okay? Do you need to lie down?” Sam asked, his voice distressed. “Yeah…maybe that would be good,” you agree, steadying yourself. “Hold on tight,” Sam commanded before quickly lifting you up, bridal style. He gave you no time to react, typically you would protest but with everything going on, being in his arms made you feel safe.
Sam carried you up the stairs and down a short hallway into a bedroom, you assumed it was the one the two of you shared. Pictures of your wedding day, Eve, and family dotted the walls. The bed was soft, molding to fit the shape of you. “Can I get anything for you? A glass of water? Tylenol?” Sam offered, brushing his hand softly against your cheek. You nodded, head pounding with each movement.
Sam disappeared out of the room; you could hear his footsteps quickly descending down the stairs. You climbed under the flannel bedsheets, the warmth making you feel a smidgen better. Your husband quickly returned with a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol, setting both on the nightstand closest to you. You propped yourself up on one elbow to grab the Tylenol. You popped two into your mouth, then took a swig of water to wash them down.
The water felt good on your parched tongue, you didn’t realize how thirsty you were. You finished off the glass of water in a few loud gulps, Sam watching your every move as if you would break with the slightest touch. “Can I get you anything else?” he offered. You shook your head, laying back down, cozying yourself into the covers. “Okay, just let me know, I’ll be downstairs,” he cooed, placing a kiss on your forehead.
You smiled up at him, everything was perfect.
You slept until the morning, soft rays of sunlight illuminating the room. You stretched, your body faintly aching. You looked over to the other side of the bed, but it was empty, except for Eve. She greeted you happily, licking your face. You ran your fingers through her soft fur, scratching under her collar. Her tags jingled, catching your attention.
You grabbed onto her nametag out of curiosity, it was a simple red tag in the shape of a heart. Her name was on the front in a typewriter-esque font. On the back, your and Sam’s phone number with an address: 817 Pleasant Street, Miles City, Montana. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach, but you couldn’t place why. Something just felt…off.
The feeling quickly faded, replaced by something softer, seeing Sam emerge from the walk-in closet in a suit and tie. Hot was the only word that came to mind. “Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he greeted you with a soft smile. “How do you feel?” “Better,” you replied, sleep making your voice scratchy and deeper than normal.
“Good, I was starting to worry about you,” he admitted, making his way over to the side of your bed. You smiled up at him, stretching, your creaking bones thanking you. “I’m sorry, but I won’t be home for lunch today. I have court and I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day,” he sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. You heart beat harder in your chest, “What did you do?” you asked, worry creeping into your tone.
He chuckled, “Very funny. It’s for the Mills case.” “Right, the Mills case…” you confirmed, unsure of what he was talking about. “I love you so much,” he murmured against your ear before giving you a sweet peck on the lips, just short enough to leave you wanting more. He stood, raking his eyes over you before turning towards the bedroom door. He picked up a briefcase from beside the door and with that, he was off, bounding down the stairs and out the door.
You slowly climbed out of bed, making your way to the attached bathroom. You came face to face with yourself as you flipped the light switch, a warm glow illuminating your frame. You decided to take a shower. The warm droplets pounded against your skin, which made you feel a bit better. Even the bathroom was decorated beautifully, black with golden accents shining through.
The rest of your day was spent with Eve around the house, a welcome distraction in this slightly off world. Maybe the world wasn’t off, you started to think.
Maybe you were.
You quickly cleared the notion from your head, it was probably your migraine from yesterday lingering in your brain, jumbling things around.
Sam arrived home a bit after 5:30, but you were prepared. Dinner was set out on the table, tonight you were having chicken and broccoli alfredo. The two of you sat at the table in the dining room, chatting back and forth about your days. This is how you figured out your husband was a criminal defense lawyer. “How was work?” Sam inquired, piercing a broccoli floret with his fork. “Work? Uh, work was…” you trailed off, trying to find some words to fill the space. “Are the Issacs’ still giving you trouble? Why can’t they pick out a tile color?” Sam playfully jested, rolling his eyes.
The perfectly curated house made sense now, you were an interior designer. You let a breathy laugh escape your lips, trying to mask the confusion. Your headache slowly snaked back, lapping at your temples. You thought your ears picked up on water purling again but instead you pushed the annoyance to the side, deciding to spend the evening winding down with your husband and dog. As the moon started to rise, the both of you decided to hit the hay before it got too late.
The pattern continued for a few weeks, then weeks bled into months. Your headaches slowly diminished over time, by now you rarely even got a whisper of pain.
~
It was a Saturday, your favorite. It meant that Sam was all yours, no work for either of you, just an endless day of relaxation and fun. Fall was coming to a start, so you had decided to spend the weekend deep cleaning instead of out on an adventure like you typically would do. Dusting was first on your list, admittedly it had been a while. You started in the entryway, running the Swiffer over the pictures that hung on the walls. Actually, you never stopped to look at them on your way out the door.
A face stuck out to you, but who it was seemed fuzzy around the edges. You just couldn’t place him. You shook the feeling, continuing on your dusting journey, which took up most of the morning. You met Sam in the kitchen around noon, his back was turned as he prepared a salad for the two of you, a quick and easy lunch. “Hey, who’s picture is in the entryway? He’s got short tousled brown hair, green eyes…” you trailed off on your description, noticing his shoulders tense. “Babe, that’s Dean…remember?” he said, turning around.
It rung a faint bell, but you weren’t quite sure where to place him. “Yeah, right, sorry,” you apologized, deciding to drop the subject to save him from discomfort. He let out a small, sad sigh, “I miss him every day.” You walked up, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, hoping it would say what words couldn’t.
The rest of the afternoon continued like normal, the both of you caught up in books, Eve between you, cuddled tightly into a ball. Afternoon dripped into evening and the two of you started getting ready for bed. Tonight, however, sleep evaded you. Sam’s soft snores echoed throughout the bedroom, but that had never bothered you before. You tossed and turned, hoping for sleep to overcome you.
Finally, it occurred to you.
Dean was Sam’s brother. Dean wasn’t dead. He was alive, you had just seen him a few months ago in Texas. You shot up, body drenched in a cold sweat.
This was not your house.
Sam was not your husband.
What was going on?
Before you could think deeper into the conundrum that you faced, the sounds of water violently slapping against shore, churning, angry, made your head pound. It felt like you were right next to the sea as a bad storm rolled in, pounding the coast, only the coast was your head. Your hands flew up to your ears in a desperate attempt to block out the noise, but to no avail.
You stumbled out of bed, disoriented by the pounding in between your temples. Bleary-eyed, you staggered down the stairs, eyes scanning over the key holder before you found what you were looking for: the truck keys. You hastily made your way out of the door, leaving the door open to not risk waking Sam.
Or whatever was pretending to be him.
You gripped the side of the house tightly, the sounds of water growing into a symphony of a tsunami, a loud roaring, hissing, terrible noise. The siding was rough under your fingertips, paint chipping off as you dug your fingernails in. This confused you even more, the house seemed real. However, you knew deep down that it wasn’t.
None of this was real, it had to be a dream.
Right?
You pulled yourself together just enough to clamber into the truck, pushing the button to start it. It roared to life and you spent no time to let it idle before throwing it into reverse and high tailing it out of the driveway. You sped off into the night, head pounding and vision burring. ‘Thank god it’s the middle of the night’, you thought, ‘Nobody is out on the roads.’
You followed the highway to where it began, the lake you and ‘Sam’ had visited months prior. It was empty, of course, except for a few frogs that called the water their home. You could have heard their calls if your head wasn’t still reeling, the water turbulence getting impossibly louder, despite the calm lake.
Tears fell down your face, you didn’t know what to believe anymore. This life was perfect, was all you ever wanted…almost. You battled with yourself, head throbbing through it all, clouding your judgement, were you right? Were you wrong? What was going on? Deep, steady breaths did nothing to calm you.
Staring out at the lake from the driver’s seat of the truck, nothing was clicking, the pieces still impossibly jig-sawed. Then it dawned upon you, an old wives’ tale.
If you’re about to die in a dream, you’ll wake up.
The idea was half-cocked at best, but you had nothing else to go off of. If nothing else, it would make the throbbing stop. You buckled your seatbelt and made sure it was secure before rolling down all of the windows in the vehicle. The pounding was causing spots to blur your vision, your head feeling on the verge of exploding.
You took another deep breath, exhaled until your lungs were empty, then floored the gas pedal, heading straight for the lake.
The truck crashed into the water, sinking impossibly fast. Water poured in through the open windows, icy cold. You tried to take a deep breath, but inhaled nothing but the murky waters.
‘My God, what have I done?’ you thought to yourself, silently choking, lungs burning.
The sound of beeping surrounded you now, slow and steady. One of your hands felt heavy and warm, while the other was cold. “Please, please, wake up. I need you, dear God, I need you. I love you, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I’m sorry,” you faintly heard a familiar voice beg, your arm raised up by an unseen force, hand placed against something scratchy. Your eyelids felt impossibly heavy, but you managed to squint, the bright lights blinding you. Weakly, you turned your head, trying to get away from it.
Was this the bright white light everyone talked about?
“Hey, are you with me? Please,” the voice sounded clearer now. “I’m here, it’s okay, I’m never going to let anything hurt you again,” the voice, now recognizable as Sam’s, promised. You managed to open both of your eyes to half mast, sneaking a peek from under your eyelashes.
He looked worse for wear. His face looked older, deep purple bags under his tired, sunken eyes, beard scruffier than a five ‘o’clock shadow. He breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank God, you’re awake.” You took a shaky breath and slowly exhaled, forcing your eyes open all of the way. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the light, but when they did, you could see you were in a bleak hospital room. “What happened?” you tried to muster out, but all that fell from your lips was a weak, “What…”
“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” the tired man reassured you, gently patting your hand. “It was a djinn; it swept you under the water. Turns out, there’s an underwater cave he was using for his lair. You were there for a few days, we thought we had lost you forever.” You exhaled a short breath from your nose, turning your head to face away from him.
“Hey, look at me,” he pleaded. You slowly turned your head back over, obliging his request. “I need to tell you something, and I know this probably isn’t the best time, but I need to get it off my chest.” Sam stated, his grip tightening on your hand. Before you could say anything, you meekly cooed, “I love you too.” in a scratchy voice. Sam smiled and wiped away a tear that was forming in the corner of his eye, “I love you so much more.”
~
It was a rough week of recovery, but you were finally ready to ditch the hospital gown for your regular loose-fitting flannel and jeans. Doctor’s orders were to take it easy, and between the two brothers, especially Sam, you knew it would happen. Sam threw your bag into the trunk of the Impala, slamming it shut. “Ready to hit the road?” he asked, placing a hand on the small of your back. “Moreso than ever,” you replied, placing a kiss on his cheek. “C’mon lovebirds, daylight’s a wasting!” Dean called out, dipping into the driver’s side of the car.
You chuckled, smiling from ear to ear as you made your way to the passenger seat. Sam raced in front of you to open the door, shutting it behind you after you slipped in, sliding on the leather seat. Sam took the seat behind yours, squeezing your shoulder as Dean turned up the radio, classic rock blaring.
Everything was the same as it ever was, maybe even better.
#spn#supernatural#fanfic#dean winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x you#sam winchester fic#sam winchester#sammy#djinn#the winchester brothers#spnfandom
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❝ Still here ❞
A/n: Felt the itch to write for Sam again and here we are, after not writing for this fandom in literal years.. I was craving comfort of some kind so bear with me </3 Feel free to drop by SPN drabble ideas
Contents: Sam Winchester x GN!Reader, comfort angst, Sam is the one being comforted, not proof read
Words: 889
“Sam-”
“How long before you just be honest with yourself?” he asked with a pained grunt, not one of physical kind but a deep corner from within his lungs where his bleeding heart attempted to take refuge from the world, from you. His eyes held unshed tears and the sight unsettled you. It sets a deep ache in your chest, somewhere right below your sternum. “It had almost killed Dean, it almost killed you! And I had done nothing about it, I could have only watched you two get gutted!” Words are spilling out of him in a torrent and you attempt to cup his face but Sam squirmed away, shoulders set square and body rigid and his eyes fall from your face in a guilty stare directed at your shoulder instead.
“Listen to me, hey.. Keep still” you take half a breath, feeling the space between your brows crease and tighten. “You didn’t know, none of us did. You can’t blame yourself for this, hey- Don’t.” By then he has already begun to turn away from you, standing up to leave the cheap motel bed you were patching him up on. He winces, his gaze snapping back to you as you follow after him.
“You had to call for help because I couldn’t do anything! What if this happens again, who are you going to call then? I can’t- No, I can’t, I CAN’T lose you too” He said as he backed himself up, shaking his head and looking everywhere and nowhere all at once, as if to show you he wished there was a world’s distance between the two of you.
And you would have accepted that as truth had he not met your touch with a subtle lean in, seeking more of the warmth of your hand that graced his shoulder. He crumbled, sliding down the wall as one frail hand grasped around your wrist and you followed him down to the floor.
“You’re not going to lose me, Sam-” you said, your other hand finding purchase upon his other shoulder as you pulled him forward, hoping he’d pick his head up and look at you. His ruffled hair is the sight you’re met with, and quiet sounds of crying met your ears like a lament of the future that might’ve come to pass, as if it already happened and you were a mere ghost haunting him for all he did to wrong you. He was muttering under his breath barely comprehensible words and broken sentences about loss and his distrust of his ability to protect. There was naught you could’ve said in that moment as crystalline tears began to drop to the floor, nothing that he’d be able to hear and follow.
With whatever courage you could muster and all the kindness you had for him, you drew yourself closer and pulled him into you, arms circling around him, allowing his head to rest at your clavicle.
Your fingers find their way to his hair, carding through over and over again in slow motions until they smoothed out, and then some more. Cooing and hushing, your lips pressed against the crown of his head; perhaps a gentle touch would be enough to shatter this illusion of failure that he put all his faith in. What ghost he conjured would ever be so gentle on him?
“Sammy..” it was a whisper of your voice, a breath of his name, that came a few moments after his sobs subsided. By then his arms were circled around your waist, loose but sure in their hold, tying you to him for just a moment longer. “I’m here.. and you did your best.. and that best was more than enough..”
He inhaled a shaky breath, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as you continued after a pause. “You could have died..” He breathed into your skin before his hold pulled you closer into his warmth, fleeting hold that meant as a motion to suck out poison from a wound.
You could have died, there was no denying that, but a foolish, naive part of you, the stubborn little voice reared its head and told you that you would have prevailed either way, for this crumbling man before you if no one else.
“Maybe.. I sure could’ve died yesterday as well in that traffic, but I don’t hear you talking about not being my driver..” At that you heard him puff, half a laugh, half a sorrow of a sound. “I could die any day, Sam, but that doesn’t make it your fault.. I’m okay, can’t you see? Can’t you feel me, hm?” The hand that was combing through his hair adjusted his head, guiding it so it pressed against your chest, his ears listening to the beat of your heart.
Lup-dup.. lup-dup..lup-dup…
The sound echoed in his ear, and his eyes welled with tears again. This time due to relief. His arms tightened once more and your own arms went wholly around him, holding him just as close.
“I’m here..” Your lips kissed the top of his head again just as his own lips shakily found the pulse point at your neck, leaving a butterfly kiss, as frail as it was meaningful, and another kiss just below it.
You are here. Alive. That’s all he can ask for.
Ⓒ n0tamused/jarttavia_. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
#-better an arrow than you.#Sam Winchester#Sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x you#sam winchester x y/n#sam winchester imagine#sam winchester angst#sam winchester fanfiction#spn#supernatural#sam winchester fic#supernatural x you#supernatural imagine#spn x reader#spn x you#spn x y/n#supernatural sam winchester#x reader#sam winchester comfort#my writing
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we are faring with the priest!sam 🕺🕺 bc the jp obsession is real rn
yall wanna peek inside my drafts…
- beau arlen x detective!reader oneshot slowburn to sex c time
- beau arlen x cowgirl!reader series (i said the forbidden s word good gawd scary 🥶—i have had cowgirl!reader’s finished moodboard in my drafts since beginning jan but i’ve been a pussy about releasing it 🤞)
- priest!sam winchester x reader one shot
- professor!ben x reader one shot w potential drabbles
- munch!soldier boy, munch!dean winchester &munch!beau arlen x reader req oneshot
- dean winchester x virgin!reader req slowburn one shot
- dean winchester x stripper!reader req one shot
- soldier boy & dean winchester x reader req one shot
- singer!soldier boy x reader one shot
- soldier boy x vought!exec!daughter pt 2 req
- soldier boy x fem!supe!reader pt 3 of my mini-series
- post-hell!sam winchester x reader one shot
- priest!dean winchester x reader one shot req
- meg!sam winchester x reader one shot
- soldier boy x fangirl!reader req slowburn one shot
- dean winchester x reader time travel LENGTHY ANGSTY one shot that’s gonna break you all
somebody please hold me at gunpoint to finish these 😭💔 they’ve all been started but it’s continuing/wrapping them up like if i have the time i do not have the energy and if i have the energy i do not have the time and it sucks harder than i would jensen ackles
#mera talks .ᐟ 𝜗𝜚 ⋆. ˚#sam winchester#priest .ᐟ sam winchester#priest .ᐟ sam winchester x reader#sam winchetser x reader#sam winchester x you#supernatural#jared padalecki
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running up that hill [ s. winchester ]
— day 1
summary: you make a deal to get sam back.
“Oh my God.” Sam coughs as he sits up. Dean, who hadn’t left his place next to his brother in days, runs over. His eyes wide and heart thrumming against his chest.
You knock on the front door before running in and there he is. Sam Winchester, alive only days after he was stabbed in the back.
“Sam…” You breathe out and both brothers look at you. Dean’s glare burns through you but you ignore him to run into Sam’s arms. He’s a bit confused but his grip around you is tight either way. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“What, what happened?” His voice is so much rougher than it usually is and you can’t help but feel tears running down your cheek. You ignore the question and go get a glass of water. Surely Dean won’t tell him anything, right? He doesn’t know much anyway since the deal just finalised twenty minutes ago.
The water helps, he clears his throat and though it’s still a little raspy, his voice is better. You sit next to him on the godforsaken table Dean had him sleeping on. Dean didn’t even give you hope that you guys would move on from Sam’s death, he kept him right next to him, wouldn’t leave for more than a bathroom trip, and wouldn’t accept burning him— or even a damn burial.
It made you feel alone, so you brought back the only person who’s ever truly understood you.
Dean lets Sam go to the other room to change into clean clothes before he grabs your arm harshly. “What’s wrong with you, huh? What the hell did you do?”
You frown, taking your arm back to cross them in front of your chest. “I did what you would’ve done. It’s fine.”
“It’s anything but fine—”
“Is everything okay?” Sam asks from the doorway and you both nod quickly. “Okay then we should go to Bobby’s, I don’t know what we’re doing in this dump anyway. We need to find out why yellow eyes wanted all of us.”
Right, yeah, that’s what you should do. You should also probably let them know you have six months left.
#so I’m starting a new series#like a drabble kinda thing#to help me out of my writers block#I’ll try to write one a day#the title is the name of the song that inspired it#everyday is a diff song#supernatural#sam winchester#supernatural imagine#sam winchester fanfiction#dean winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester imagine#sam winchester x y/n#sammy#sam winchester angst#supernatural sam winchester#sam winchester fluff#spn sam winchester#sam winchester x you#supernatural requests#supernatural fluff#supernatural fanfiction#sam winchester supernatural#supernatural x reader#spn fanfic#sam winchester x female reader#Sam Winchester x fem!reader#supernatural x you#laila writes !
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𝙑-𝘿𝘼𝙔 𝘿𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏
• 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏, 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏𝙏𝙔, 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏
• 𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙊𝙍𝙎 𝘿𝙉𝙄 𝙄 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝘽𝙇𝙊𝘾𝙆 𝙔𝙊𝙐
𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙐𝙉𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙏𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝙎𝙀𝙓 (𝘞𝘳𝘢𝘱 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺) 𝙎𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝙏𝘼𝙇𝙆, 𝘾𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙈𝙋𝙄𝙀, 𝙍𝙄𝘿𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝙎𝙐𝘽𝙎𝘼𝙈
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/83a07bd91d36b937ee084eddc01324f4/511ed19519728d68-a8/s540x810/9b2c6ac3e7dc74bfcca5182c0a3534732e061aeb.jpg)
You moaned as you bounced on Sam. “Fuck, Sam.” You let out a moan as he digs his nails into your soft skin. You and Sam had gone out of a date a few hours ago for Valentine’s Day. It was so perfect and you loved every second of that night. You could feel how the tip of his cock was pressing onto your cervix every time you bounced back down. Sam’s head was back as he gritted his teeth letting out moans and small whimpers. “Please, I need to cum.” He said to you softly. “No, a little longer.” You let out a moan as you kept on bouncing, Sam could literally feel like he was about to explode. He could feel his cock start to twitch and his body start to tense as he tried to hold onto his release, but it was becoming hard because of how good your tight pussy felt around the man.
“Oh, god Sam!” You gasped as your nails dig into his chest. “Fuck!” Your body started to shake as you felt like your orgasm was about to hit you so damn hard. “Please, can I now!” Sam gasped as his grip on you tightened even more. “No! A little longer.” You told him. Sam couldn’t take it anymore and flipped you on your back making you let out a very loud moan as he slammed his cock into your pussy making you shake so much. “Ooh, Aah!!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your pussy started to flutter. You squealed as you orgasmed so good it made your legs shake and your body feel like it was floating.
Sam’s fingers went to your clit playing with it to prolong your orgasm. He kept you moaning for him like crazy. Your body trashing and your hips kept on buckling up as it became overwhelming but Sam wasn’t stopping, you felt like your walls started to flutter again and you let out a very loud moan as he pulled out making your body stay tensed as you squirted on his hands. “Gosh!!” You let out as you relaxed, but gasped as Sam slammed back into you.
He kept on slamming his dick inside, your legs in the air as he watched half his cock disappear inside of you. Watched how your chest bounced with his thrusting. Sam moaned as he felt his balls start to tighten, his cock start to throb, letting out a grunt as he released inside your pussy painting your pussy walls with shots of his cum. Sam’s head falling back as his fingers dig into your soft supple flesh of your thighs. His body spasming as he finally relaxed.
He lets out a breath and pulled out, his release along with your pouring out your pussy.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/0f7515084023f07b607a85f2c43ee90e/511ed19519728d68-07/s540x810/de0a09498804222557a5871d8eb8237ad022e366.jpg)
I wasn’t going to do this and it’s late but enjoy it’s fast and I wrote this in like 20 minutes lmao
HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY! ❤️💋
#supernatural#spnfandom#spn smut#spn fanfic#spnfamily#sam winchester x y/n#sam winchester x you#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester smut#sam winchester#jared padalecki#jared padalecki smut#fypツ#fypシ゚viral#fyppage#my fyp#fyp#tumblr fyp#fypppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp
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hi! would love you see your take on reader getting trapped in a djinn dream and the dream just being sam and reader in love
love your work!
𖦹Apple Pie Life𖦹
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/96358f618a05ed97d190cf7147ba5ef0/eac023ccdee79e1a-29/s500x750/6620a7d6744eb928396c2e35421cb8c8bfb5dc27.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b91b2019cac2cb87436a5cb3d947fe65/eac023ccdee79e1a-6a/s540x810/87ecc0136c16bccc6ddc6f19c7faf18ffd38c53b.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/dd537dd3887b3212ccb97715aa7d544e/eac023ccdee79e1a-d5/s540x810/2167bd6250dbbab97559693efc1cb97ab862afe1.jpg)
summary𖦹 You get caught by a Djinn and wake up next to Sam
pairing𖦹 Sam Winchester x Reader
word count𖦹 998
notes𖦹 omg this took way longer to write than I'm willing to admit sorry it took so long I hope you like it
This isn't right. it isn't real. Ten minutes ago you were cautiously walking through an abandoned warehouse, searching for a djinn, and now you're waking up in a queen size bed. You had been hunting the monster down with the Winchester brothers. Sam and Dean had been your close friends for as long as you can remember, you stayed with Dean and hunted with him when Sam left for Stanford, and you've helped them save the world way too many times. You were very close to the brothers. You liked to think of Dean as your brother and Sam as…not brother, not friend either–some secret third thing. Ok, sure you totally had the hots for him, but you keep it professional. He does not need to know, if he wanted you he would have told you, and so far you've just heard radio silence.
You try not to think about Sam–if you don't focus on your feelings they'll go away (totally healthy). But you have a hard time not thinking about him right now as you wake up in a bed that's not yours next to, what looks like, his sleeping figure.
That djinn totally got you, but is it really that bad? He looks peaceful for once, And he's lying next to you. In your dream life you're with Sam–you totally should unpack that when you get out of this. But what if real Sam doesn't like you? This Sam likes you. You'll just savor it, enjoy it while you can.
Your train of thought stops when you notice Sam waking up. He stirs and turns towards you, lazily opening his eyes. When his gaze meets yours a slight smile stretches across his face, “morning, beautiful” He reaches towards you and pulls you into his chest–his bare chest (holy moly)–and kisses your hairline.
You look up at him bashfully, “morning”
He pulls away from you slightly and playfully smirks, “You know, I don’t have to go into the firm today…we could just stay in bed as long as we want”
The firm? Oh my god, Sam is a lawyer. That means you don’t hunt. It also means you're rich. you smile in return “that sounds amazing”
he pulls you back into his chest and you melt into his embrace. You feel his chest rumble as he starts talking. “You have no idea how much i've missed you, these long shifts are killing me”
“I'm here now” you respond
He chuckles lightly, “thank god”
You two stay wrapped in eachothers arms, falling in and out of sleep, talking about anything and everything for the next couple hours till Sam lets go of you to go to the bathroom and make some breakfast. You watch his large fame leave the bedroom and that's when you decide to snoop a little.
Getting up from the bed and putting on some comfy clothes, you notice some framed photos on the wall of you and sam…getting married. Holy shit. Looking at the photos, you notice Dean and Cas there, everyone so happy. God, your dress is beautiful, must've been expensive. You snap out of your shock when you hear Sam call out for you, “hey babe, coffee is ready”
You start heading towards his voice, trying to find the kitchen in this unfamiliar home, “thanks, sammy” You make your way to the open space of the kitchen and take in the decor.
Sam walks up behind you and hugs you, nuzzling his nose into your neck and hugging your middle. “Mhh…you're warm”
You chuckle lightly, “you're clingy”
“I wasn't lying when I said I missed you…it's not a crime for me to miss my wife”
You blush as he calls you that “I never said it was a bad thing”
He kisses down your neck with a playful smile, “sure” he responds, sarcastically
You turn around in his embrace and wrap your arms around his shoulders, playing with the baby hairs resting on the nape of his neck. Sam tightens his hold on you, hands resting on your lower back. You breathe out of your nose in amusement, “you're always so sassy”
He shakes his head in fake annoyance and rolls his eyes “so i've been told”
You pull him down and kiss the mole on his cheek, “you said there was coffee”
He smiles softly and loosens his embrace “on the counter”
“You're an angel” You let go of him and turn around, grabbing your mug. You turn towards Sam and lean your back against the countertop, taking a sip of your drink. You look up at Sam with a smirk over the top of the cup.
He looks at you with awe, “god you're beautiful…looking at me like that”
You put your drink down on the counter “You're the pretty one. I mean–they way youre looking at me…like I hung the stars in the sky” You argue
He shrugs “Can you blame me”
You jokingly twirl your hair between your fingers, “I guess not”
He huffs in amusement and steps closer to you, lightly hugging you again. You rest your arms on his chest, lightly pushing him and walking him towards the couch. He sits back down on the couch and you follow him, straddling his lap. His arms move lower, hands resting on your bottom and you nuzzle into him. “I love you” you say into his chest
“I love you more” he responds
“Mhn I don't think that's possible”You disagree
Sam sifts on the couch, moving to get more comfortable, “i'm not so sure about that”
You look up at him, “last I checked, I'm always right”
He shakes his head in resignation, “that you are”
You lay back down on his chest and Sam kisses the top of your head. Sure none of this was real, but you're not gonna pass up this opportunity. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to stay here for the day. You could figure a way out of this later.
sorry if there are typos or anything
@areswasneverhere
#supernatural#spn#sam winchester#fanfic#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x y/n#sam winchester x you#sam winchester fanfiction#supernatural fanfiction
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.ೃ࿔*:・cramps,
summary. sam always takes care of you.
pairing. sam winchester x reader
wordcount. 473
You groan into your pillow, curling up tighter as another wave of cramps rolls through your abdomen. It’s miserable. The worst it’s been in months, and you swear your uterus is actively trying to ruin your life.
The world outside your blanket cocoon barely exists—you’ve been buried in it for hours, shifting between whimpering and cursing at your own body. You’re half-asleep when you hear the bedroom door creak open, the quiet pad of socked feet moving toward you. The bed dips behind you, and then there’s a familiar warmth—Sam.
His big hand smooths over your back, slow and gentle.
"How bad is it?" he murmurs, voice laced with concern.
"Awful," you whimper. "I think I might die."
"You’re not gonna die," he soothes, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "But I did bring you something."
You peek over your shoulder to see him holding a heating pad and a steaming mug.
Your heart swells. "You’re the best," you breathe, already reaching for the heat.
He chuckles, helping you press it against your stomach before settling in behind you. You feel the warmth of his body almost immediately, his arms circling you, his long legs tangling with yours. He holds the mug to your lips.
"Drink. It’ll help."
The tea is warm and sweet, the floral taste settling something in your chest. You sigh as you swallow, letting your body melt into his.
"Comfy?" he asks, nuzzling into your hair.
"Mhm." Your eyes flutter closed as he rubs slow, soothing circles over your stomach, his warmth completely surrounding you.
"You know," he muses, voice low and affectionate, "if your uterus weren’t trying to kill you right now, I’d say you look pretty cute like this."
You snort. "Flatter me when I’m not suffering."
He smiles against your skin, his breath warm where it tickles your neck. "I’ll do it then too. And all the time."
You shift slightly so you can look at him, his soft hazel eyes already watching you. His face is impossibly close, lips curved into a lazy smile, dimples showing.
"You're too sweet to me," you murmur.
He hums, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You deserve it."
You sigh, a deep, contented sound, and nestle into his chest, letting the steady rise and fall of his breathing lull you into relaxation. His fingers find yours beneath the blankets, tangling together easily.
For a long moment, neither of you speak, wrapped up in warmth and softness. Then, just as you’re drifting off, Sam’s voice reaches you, low and teasing.
"You know, I read somewhere that orgasms help with cramps."
You groan, smacking his chest weakly. "Go to sleep, Winchester."
He laughs, tightening his hold on you. "Fine, fine. But if you change your mind…"
And though he doesn’t finish the sentence, you can hear the smirk in his voice.
want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @whereiwakewarm ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @mrs-pondwater19 ⋆ @myceliumsunshine ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7 ⋆ @bamboobooshark ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @pwin098 ⋆ @lacysretribution ⋆ @i-love-gvf
#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x you#sam winchester fluff#sam winchester fic#supernatural#.docx
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Kissy Kissy
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader Summary: Sam wants to kiss you, you want to kiss Sam, but neither of you will make the first move. Warnings: cussing, mention of sex
You've known the Winchester boys for a very long time, they were like brothers to you, well Dean was. You had a huge crush on Sam, but it doesn't seem like he's interested in you, Dean doesn't know either even though he suspects things but will never say anything because he doesn't know for sure.
The boys were on a job, and you waited patiently for them to return. Usually, you went with them, but this time, you chose to stay back and clean up a bit. The house wasn't dirty because you were barely in it, but you needed to keep busy. You danced around while you swept up the kitchen, singing along to the song playing.
You were so focused on dancing and cleaning you didn't hear the front door open until you turned around and were surprised by them, you screamed and threw the broom at Dean who quickly caught it with one hand "A little warning next time would be great." You rolled your eyes clutching your chest "Sorry, Sweetheart thought you heard us." Dean chuckled and handed the broom back to you.
You smiled up at Sam who came over giving you a big bear hug. "Someone missed me." You giggled, hugging him back "Of course I missed you. What's not to miss." Sam cleared his throat and put you down "I mean, you know uh never mind." Sam shuffled away into the kitchen. You looked over at Dean, who ignored the little interaction between you and Sam and went straight to the TV
"So, Dean." You strolled over, sat down beside him, rested your feet on his lap, looking over at him, he sighed and looked over at you "Yes, Y/N." You loved bothering Dean more than anything "Did you miss me as much as Sammy did?" Dean rolled his eyes and moved your feet off of him "One, only I get to call him Sammy; two, no, I didn't." You heard Sam walk up behind you guys "She can call me Sammy." You looked up at Sam, who stood there smiling like an idiot.
"You guys make me sick." Dean stood up and walked to his room you giggled and watched Sam walk around the couch and sit down "I'm assuming he got beat up on the job." Sam nodded and turned the channel on the TV. You watched as Sam flipped through the channels, trying to find something to watch you couldn't help but admire his focused face. "You know, if you took a picture, it might last longer." Sam uttered, not taking his eyes off the screen you felt your cheeks heat up.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare." You looked down at your hands sheepishly "I didn't say I didn't like it." He looked over at you and smiled, you met his gaze and smiled back at him soon; you were both staring at each other, and just like in the movies, the two of you slowly leaned into each other as if a magnet was pulling you both in. Your eyes flickered from his lips to his eyes basically begging him to kiss you.
Suddenly, he pulls back "Uh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." You sighed and sat back against the couch "It's okay, I don't know what I was thinking, uh, I'm going to go lay down." You quickly got up from the couch and headed toward your room. You looked at Dean's door, and before you knew it, you were knocking on it. You earned a 'come in' and you quickly walked in leaning against the now shut door.
Dean looked at you and furrowed his eyebrows, followed by an eye roll when he saw the look on your face "What's wrong?" You slowly slid down the door, groaning on the way down. "Sam and I almost kissed, but he pulled back and apologized and said he didn't mean to. Dean, all I wanted these past few months was to kiss Sam, and each time we got close, he backs away or you walk in, and he gets all scared." You took a deep breath and looked up at Dean.
He rolled his eyes and walked over, picking you up off the floor, his hands on your shoulders he looks you dead in the eyes and smirked "It sounds like you both need to grow a pair." You pouted and leaned your forehead on his chest, he kissed the top of your head and let out a deep breath "I'm sorry, sweetheart why don't you lay down in here and I'll go get you some cold water." You nodded against his chest and walked over to his bed still pouting
He shook his head at you and went downstairs to get you water, where he found Sam pacing back and forth in the kitchen "Whoa there, flash, what's up your ass?" Dean already knew, but he needed to hear it from Sam. He stopped pacing and looked at Dean "I almost kissed Y/N, but I pulled back and now I think she hates me." Dean chuckled and grabbed a bottle of water
"What's funny?" Dean shook his head looking back at Sam "You both need to grow a pair; I have an idea why don't you take this water to my room and give it to her and then just kiss her." Sam took the water bottle and paused "Why is she in your room?" Dean could see how mad Sam was getting, Sam liked you a lot and the thought of losing you to Dean sent him into a frenzy, seething with jealousy.
"Relax, Hulk. She came up there to talk to me after you pussied out, go kiss her so we can all move on." Sam walked up the stairs without another word and into Dean's room "Sorry, Dean, I hope you don't mind I borrowed a pair of your sweat- You're not Dean." You sat up on Dean's bed, looking at Sam "Yeah, I need to talk to you." Sam sat down in front of you, handing you the water bottle, you took the bottle from him, drinking some of it.
Sam took a deep breath, cupped your cheeks, and pressed his lips to yours; you gladly kissed him back. You crawled into his lap and straddled it. The kiss deepened, not wanting it to end, but something about needing to breathe got in the way of that. The two of you slowly pulled back, his forehead resting against yours. "I've been wanting to do that for years!" Sam uttered breathlessly.
Just then, someone cleared their throat behind Sam "Now that you two love birds finally kissed, can you get off my bed before you end up having sex on it." Sam rolled his eyes and lifted you off the bed, you squealed and wrapped your legs around his waist, as you passed Dean, you had Sam stop walking "Might want to get some ear plugs, it's going to be a wild ride." You winked at Dean, and Sam continued to his room.
A/N: If you would like to be tagged in future fics either comment, message, or fill out this form and you will be added to the tag list🥰
Main Masterlist - Sam Winchester Masterlist
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𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐭
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→ 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
#lostalioth kinktober#kinktober 2024#kinktober day 17#smut#sam winchester smut#sam winchester headcanon#sam winchester drabble#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester oneshot#dating sam winchester#sam winchester fic#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester supernatural#sam winchester#sam winchester imagine#sam winchester x female reader#sam winchester x y/n#sam winchester x you#fem!reader#sam winchester scenarios#sam winchester spn#sam winchester blurb#sam winchester hc#spn sam winchester#spn fanfic#spn headcanon#spn smut#spn one shot#sam fanfic#sam x reader
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i got you — sam winchester ꒦꒷ kinktober day five ; size kink
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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.
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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.
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POV: Dating Dean Winchester....
#supernatural#castiel x dean#destiel#dean winchester#castiel#castiel novak#sam winchester x sister!reader#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x you#sam winchester smut#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester smut#supernatural memes#supernatural family#supernatural fandom#spn#dean winchester x you#sam winchester fanfiction#sam and dean#sam winchester imagines
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