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losers-clvb · 16 days ago

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rebound ex-boyfriend!sam winchester x female!reader

content: toxic!sam, language, smut, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, clitoral stimulation, manipulative sam, mentions of cheating, phone call during sex, some light dirty talk, non-consensual voyeurism (i think it classifies anyway), weirdly some fluff (maybe?)

word count: 3.4k

note: thank you to my lovely jen (@xoswiftieprincess )for indirectly inspiring me to write this fic. also, this is unedited because i wanted to get it out before i went to work, lol.

m.list

“Fuck Sam Winchester!”

Your best friend, Mason, had been cursing the man’s name for over two hours now. She was finding way too much joy in you finally breaking up with him, but that’s just what her friendship was like. She’s always supported you, even when you made the stupid choice to stay with Sam after the fourth time he’d come home to you with a lipstick stain on his neck.

But, seems fifth time was the charm, because you had forced him out of your life. Though, that could have been more about the fact that this time he’d left his phone open to show a text thread between him and the lady who delivered the mail. The fucking postal carrier. He’d chosen her over you.

That was all in the past now, or, it was supposed to be, but now the entire bar was cheersing to Sam’s downfall.

“Fuck Sam Winchester!” They all echoed out Mason’s words. Even the elderly veteran that lurked in the corner raised his beer to the sentiment.

You rolled your eyes and tried to swallow down the hurt of losing Sam, using your very strong cocktail as a chaser. You were the image of pure badass feminism. Who needed a man if he was gonna treat you like trash?

The truth of it was much more embarrassing. You missed Sam.

He could be sweet, when he wanted to. Bring you home flowers, never your favorites, but they were still flowers. He would wrap his arms around you while you made dinner, lips working on kissing your neck while you hummed. The thing you missed the most?

His ability to make you come over and over.

It was truly astounding the amount of times he’d make you come in a singular night. It was the only time he wasn’t a complete selfish asshole. He’d eat you out until the sun rose, ignoring your babbling about how you couldn’t handle another. You knew the safe word, you just never used it.

Oh my God, and his cock? It was impressively--

“Can you stop thinking about him for once?” Mason huffed out, sipping from her own drink. She could read your mind like no other, and it most times lead you to trouble.

“I’m not thinking about him.” You were lying straight through your teeth. You knew it, and she definitely knew it, if the glare she cut at you meant anything.

“You’re a horrible liar.”

You cringed at her words. Not because of what she meant behind them, but because Sam had told you the same thing, word for word, when you screamed at him how much you hated him.

They were both right. You were lying.

“I can’t just stop loving him.” You whispered. Mason still caught it over the hum of the bar around you.

“You need a rebound! Best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right?” Mason was already scanning the bar for her perfect victim.

“No, Mase, I can’t-,” you started to protest, but she cut you off.

“Him!” Mason jabbed a finger in the direction of a man. He looked around your age and he wasn’t exactly unattractive. The problem lay in the simple fact that he was nothing like Sam.

His jaw was set in a different way. His hair buzzed down to his scalp. He was too… muscular, like a bodybuilder rather than the lean, toned build of your Sam. And he was short. Only an inch or two taller than yourself. You liked it when your men towered over you. Or, maybe you just liked it when Sam towered over you.

It wasn’t as if you were now a born-again virgin. You would work your way up to hookups, you assumed. But right now you didn’t know if there was anyone who could make you feel as good as Sam had, and you didn’t want to be disappointed.

“He’s perfect for you!” Mason insisted, wrapping her fingers around your wrist to drag you over to him.

“He’s nothing like Sam…,” you almost whimpered, your mind always going back to the man who constantly broke your heart.

“Exactly.” Mason smiled wickedly, stomping up to Not-Sam and his group of friends.

After some very convincing arguments with Mason, mixed with the overwhelming fear that you would never get over Sam, you agreed to take Not-Sam home with you.

That’s where you found yourself now, pressed against the wall, Not-Sam’s hand inching under your skirt.

You were trying to enjoy this, you really were, but he was making it difficult.

Not-Sam was a very bad kisser, and his hand? His hand was somehow cold and sweaty at the same time. Oh, and turns out he was part of the male population that couldn’t find the clit, because he was now rubbing just north of it with far too much confidence.

“That feel good?” He asked in what you could only classify as the worst sexy voice you’ve ever heard.

“Umm…,” you didn’t know how to answer. “Yeah, that’s sooo good” in your best attempt at non-sarcasm? Or maybe, “No, it really doesn’t” as a way to finally stand up for yourself?

Thankfully, you didn’t have to make a choice, because there was a knock on your door a second later. You all but pushed Not-Sam off of you, scrambling to answer the door. Maybe it was Mason coming to her senses and saving you from this. Or maybe your neighbor Verna who sometimes participated in late night baking. Or--

You opened the door to reveal none other than Sam. He looked the same as he had three days ago when you pushed him out of this very door. Well, same other than the quickly bruising right eye.

“Oh.” You breathed, not knowing what else to say. You felt a flux of emotion. Hate, regret, love, lust, heartbreak. Most of all, you felt sorry for him.

You felt sorry for your shitty ex because he has a black eye? You could hear Mason’s voice in your head already, scolding you.

It didn’t stop the pull of your heart when he offered you a crooked grin.

“Angelcakes, who is it?” Not-Sam asked, peering over your shoulder. You winced at the pet name. He insisted on calling you that despite your physical aversion to the name.

Sam furrowed his brow, flicking his eyes from you to Not-Sam a few times before they finally landed back onto you. He didn’t look jealous. He didn’t need to be, he knew nobody compared to him.

“Can I come in?” Sam leaned against the doorframe in the way that always had you swooning. His hair fell perfectly into his eyes. He could see the moment he hooked you back in, a smirk pulling on his face at the sight.

“Actually-,” Not-Sam began.

“Yes.” You answered at the same time, stopping Not-Sam in his tracks. You would have seen the scowl on his face if you weren’t so enamoured with your ex-boyfriend in front of you.

“What?” Not-Sam spat, crossing his arms.

Sam dragged his gaze from you to Not-Sam, raising his eyebrows.

“Guess you’d better get going.” Sam spoke with the same inflection you would use with a child, soft and syrupy like medicine. And just like a child to medicine, it made Not-Sam sneer with disgust.

“We were in the middle of something, Gigantor.” Not-Sam tried, and failed, to pull you out of the trance Sam had put you in by nudging your side.

“It’s okay. You can go.” Your words flowed out embarrassingly quick, and you saw a twinkle of something in Sam’s eye.

Not-Sam scoffed, pushing past you and Sam with a mumble about how you were a bitch he didn’t need. You paid no mind to it, not when Sam was gathering your hand in his own.

His skin was warm, a warmth you had missed after the whole of the three days away from him. He brought the back of your hand to his lips, kissing it like he was the prince in those fairytales you loved so much.

“I missed you.” He mumbled against your hand. You didn’t know if it was true or not, but you wanted to believe it was, and that was all that mattered in the moment.

Your head was still a little fuzzy from the drinks Mason had shoved at you. Yeah, that would be your excuse for anything that was to happen. Drunk, not stupidly in love with a sadist.

“Sammy…,” you sighed, jutting your lip out in a frown. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to cry.

“Baby…,” Sam sighed back, stepping into your apartment. It smelled like home, cinnamon and sugar. That must have been why he couldn’t get you off his mind, even after sleeping with Stephanie from the bakery down the street.

“You shouldn’t be here.” You turned away, suddenly feeling nervous in his presence. He was gonna hurt you again, you knew it, but it didn’t stop the wanting to wrap your arms around his neck.

“Maybe.” He agreed, softly pushing the door closed and turning the lock until that click that told him no one would be getting in to interrupt what he wanted to happen. “But you’re my baby, and I needed help.”

You turned to face him again, eyes stopping on his injury. You could see the few spots in his eye where the blood vessels had burst. Whoever hit him, hit him hard.

You reached up to cup his face with your hand, Sam leaned down to meet you halfway. You brushed a thumb carefully over the bruising.

“What happened?” You met his eyes again.

“That’s not important.” You didn’t need to know that Stephanie had a husband, one who had been trained to throw a punch during his time in the military. “Can you kiss it better? Like you always do?”

Like you always do. He knew you too well. You would give in, he wouldn’t even have to beg for it.

“You hurt me.” You whimpered, eyes dropping.

“I know. I’m sorry, baby.” Sam was actually half-sincere with his apology. He was sorry that he hurt you, but it was just so easy when you always let him come back.

You swallowed and huffed, still looking down. Then he said those magic words.

“I love you, it’ll never happen again.” You’d heard them far too often, and believed them more times than that. They never ceased to melt away any residual anger you felt toward Sam.

You looked up, a small smile gracing your face.

“I love you too.” You answered.

“I know you do.” Sam nodded, tilting his head down just the slightest bit in order to brush his lips against yours.

You leaned into him with a sigh, muscle memory taking over while you kissed him. It was soft and passionate at first, but quickly spiraled into something more.

Sam was hungry, and you were the only thing that could satisfy him. He knew it. No matter how many girls he tried to replace you with, he could never find one like you. None of them loved him so wholly and eternally like you did.

You wrapped your legs around his waist when he picked you up. You clung to him like a koala on a tree, chest flush with his own.

Sam carried you to your room, bending down to place you within the nest of blankets you called a bed. He never once broke the kiss, not until you were settled onto your back.

He worked his way down your face, kissing your jawline, nipping at your neck. The dress Mason had picked out for you worked to his advantage, giving him perfect access to kiss the tops of your breasts.

The moment he had pulled away from your lips you had tangled your fingers into his hair. You knew where this was going.

“I missed these.” Sam muttered, licking his tongue over the skin of your chest. You only hummed in response.

He continued his way down, fingers looping around your panties before his face ever reached then. He pulled them down, slow and tantalizing, watching the way the lace scraped against your thighs.

There it was. Sam’s own personal heaven, nearly dripping from the way he had you all worked up.

“Sammy…,” you encouraged. He knew what you were asking for. He was happy to deliver.

Sam kissed your inner thigh, relishing in the warmth that increased with every inch closer he got to your center. After just a moment’s pause, he kissed down onto your clit.

The breath was knocked from your lungs when his tongue joined in.

You were pitiful. He’d barely touched you, barely put any effort into his movements, yet you were moaning out his name like it was a prayer. You’d regret this later, maybe, but right now? You weren’t thinking of much more than Sam’s mouth working away at you.

“Mmm, baby, I missed this.” Sam hummed. He brought his thumb up to your clit, just the slightest pressure to get you whining.

“Sammy…,” you huffed. You dropped your hand from his hair to the side of his forehead, cradling his head while he watched your reactions to his movements.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” Sam breathed out, sucking onto you. “That’s why I can’t let you go, you’re perfect.”

You let your eyes flutter shut, throwing your head back. You loved it when he talked like this, when he praised you. It made you feel important.

“You’re perfect for me.”

A primal noise left your throat and you rolled your hips into him.

Sam smirked against you. He knew you would never leave him, not really. All he had to do was come back begging, promise to never do it again, give you a kiss as a way to tie it all together. He’d done it hundreds of times before, and he’d do it hundreds of times more.

You always took him back with open arms -- or, in this case, open legs.

A buzzing from your nightstand broke him from those thoughts.

Your eyes shot open and you tilted your head to the side to look at the device.

“Mase <3” was displayed on the screen.

“It’s-,” you reached for your phone, meaning to hit the volume button to stop the vibrations so you could get back to letting Sam pull you apart. You paused when you felt Sam’s fingers flex into your thighs, catching your attention.

“Answer it,” he ordered, voice just as syrupy sweet as it was earlier. His eyes flashed with mischief. He knew Mason hated him, she’d told him as much each time they saw each other. He didn’t care, not when you would be hanging onto his every word and following him around like a lost puppy. But, it was fun to mess with her.

“What? No.” You wanted to wait for her to find out about all of this. She would be disappointed in you, mad, even. You could see her trying to come over to your place with plans to beat Sam’s ass in her mind. You didn’t want to deal with all of that right now.

“She’s just gonna call back again.” Sam told you. When you still looked hesitant, he placed a gentle kiss on your thigh. “C’mon baby, I’ll be good.”

You melted under him, giving in. You always gave in.

You swiped up your phone, tapping the answer button and holding it up to your ear. You immediately heard the low din of the bar. It was late, but Mason was known for closing the place out every Saturday night.

“How’s it going with the gentleman?” Mason asked cheekily. She usually held her alcohol well, but it didn’t stop the slight slur peeking through in her voice.

“Good.” You weren’t technically lying. It was going good, maybe better than good, but it wasn’t with the man she had set you up with. Then again, if Not-Sam had stayed, you were sure it would have been a very unsatisfying night.

You kept your eyes locked onto Sam. His brown eyes were soft, and you swore you saw love in them, but that may have just been you twisting things. No, he did love you. Just not enough to stop finding himself in other women’s beds.

He stuck true to his word, for about the first minute of your phone call. Your eyes widened as he slowly sunk down, pressing his tongue flat against your center.

“He’s pretty hot, right?” Mason continued. You tried to keep your breathing steady.

“Yeah, super hot.” You agreed. Sam never broke the eye contact he held with you, and you didn’t dare to look away. He wanted you watching him. You knew how bratty he became when he didn’t get what he wanted. You didn’t need him doing anything more to give you away to your babbling best friend.

“And he knows what he’s doing?” Mason questioned. You could see her in your mind, giddily awaiting your answer while she sat at the bar.

“Mhm,” you hummed, biting your lip to stop a moan. You shivered when Sam groaned into you, earning him a narrowing of your eyes to him. Thankfully, Mason didn’t seem to pick up on the noise.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it, but I want all the juicy details in the morning, kay?”

“Of-,” you started to answer with an “of course, bye!”, but that was when Sam pushed two fingers into you, causing the rest of the sentence to be replaced with a moan.

“Oh my gosh, are you doing him right now?” Mason asked, voice a mix of shock and pride. She’d hope this meant you were coming to your senses, finally leaving Sam in the past.

“Kinda.” You managed to bite out, praying she would just end the call already. It hadn’t occurred to you that you could be the one to end the call, not when Sam was steadily pumping his fingers into you.

“You dirty girl!” Mason exclaimed, giggling. At the same time, Sam spoke, making sure his voice was loud enough to be heard through the phone.

“Such a good girl,” he purred, sucking onto your clit.

“Wait-,” Mason’s voice was scarily sobered up and you nearly withered away in preparation for the impending lecture. “Who is that?” She hoped she had heard wrong, hoped you weren’t stupid enough to be in the position she knew you were in.

“Uh-,” you tried to think of a way out of this, a way to get her off your back, but Sam’s fingers -- the ones not currently inside of you -- wrapped around your phone. He pulled it from your hand effortlessly.

“Hey Mase,” he greeted. He was far too cocky than he usually would be, but the situation was just too perfect. Mason hated him, yet she could never get you to fold the way he did. It did immeasurably amazing things to stoke his ego.

“Fuckin’ Sam.” Mason growled. Seems all the alcohol still couldn’t stop the hatred for the man.

“We’re trying to have a good time, you’re kinda ruining the vibe.” Sam continued his work with his fingers, putting light pressure onto your clit with his thumb.

“Just leave her alone, asshole. Haven’t you hurt her enough?” Mason knew there was no hope in reasoning with him, but she would still try.

“I’m not hurtin’ her right now, promise.” Sam hummed, eyes dragging over your heaving chest. With the phone in his possession, you’d fallen right back into your pleasure. Your head was buried into your blankets, breathy moans leaving your lips.

“You’d better be gone by the time I get there.” Mason warned, and Sam could hear the smack of a door slamming shut.

“Mmm, I don’t think so.” Sam smirked when you clenched around his fingers. He knew you were close. He knew everything about you, down to every twitch of your muscle. He heard the line disconnect, a beep signaling that Mason had ended the call.

He was sure she would be here, banging on your front door, within the next half hour, but that didn’t stop him from taking his time with you. He watched you fall apart on his hand.

“You’re my perfect girl.” Sam rewarded you with after you’d relaxed, a sweet kiss finding its way onto your hip bone. You could only nod and pull him into your arms.

This was the best way to get over a breakup, you’d decided, even if it was with the person who’d broken your heart in the first place.

everything taglist : @littlesoulshine @sacr1ficialang3l @blossomingorchids @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @mostlymarvelgirl

sam winchester taglist : @hobiespick

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hanaridulsetcheese · 5 months ago

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dancing with dean

You walk out into the main room of the bunker after taking a steaming hot shower, hair was slightly damp and you were in a tank top and shorts, the usual get up.

You were on your way to the kitchen to get something to drink when you pass Dean in the main room.

"Hey, you're up late. " Dean follows you and sits at the kitchen table as you opened up the fridge to get water.

"Just took an everything shower, I need some hydration. "

Dean watches, his eyes roaming over your body in your tank top and shorts. He can't help but let his gaze linger on your curves before quickly looking away, clearing his throat as he tries to maintain a casual demeanor.

"Water, huh? Not exactly the typical drink around here. " he teased lightly, his lips curving into a small smirk. You chuckle at take a seat opposite him.

"So an 'everything shower'? Sounds like you scrubbed yourself from head to toe," he teased, his eyes still lingering on you for a moment before he looked away.

"That's basically what it is. I'm as fresh as a daisy now. " you nod.

"Fresh as a daisy, huh?" he repeated, a small smile playing on his lips. "But what exactly makes that different from a regular shower. "

"You don't know what an everything shower is? " you fake offence. "It's something every girl does at least once every two weeks. Extensive hair care, body washes, personally this is the time I get to use my expensive washes, a little luxury I get to have after all the hunting. "

He raised an eyebrow, a look of mock surprise on his face. "Sounds like a pain in the ass if you ask me. " he teased, taking a swig of his beer. "Seems like a hell of a lot of work just to get clean," he continued, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "But hey, I get it. You girls need your little luxuries.

"I'm so clean, I smell like a cupcake, smell. " you lean across the table to let Dean smell you.

He lets out a hearty laugh, his green eyes glinting in the dim light from the moon. The scent of your freshly washed skin filling his lungs as you leaned across the table. His eyes met yours, lingering for a moment, "You really do smell good," he admitted, a genuine smile on his face. "Like a damn cupcake."

"Vanilla body wash and perfume. " you give him a proud nod. He laughs at your antics and opens up your water bottle without having to ask. It's a common thing amongst you two for him to do things like this unconsciously.

It was instinct for him, opening the bottle for you. He didn't even realize he did it half the time, it had become so second nature. But he liked doing it, making things just a little bit easier for you.

"I like it," he replied with a smile, watching as you take a sip of water.

"So, aside from smelling like a damn cupcake, what else does this 'everything shower' involve?" he teased, taking a swig of his beer.

"Depends on the person to be honest. It's just a way to relax and wash away the bad stuff from the week or whatever. It's therapeutic. "

He nods in understanding, a thoughtful look on his face. "Sounds like something Sammy would do, not me," he commented with a small chuckle but secretly he thought it sounded kind of nice. Being able to wash away the stress and tension of hunting sounded heavenly. But he'd never admit that, of course.

"Maybe I should give it a try sometime," he teased. "But don't expect me to smell like a cupcake afterwards. I've got my own unique scent. "

"Oh definitely. You would smell more like a pie. "

He chuckled at your response, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'd smell damn delicious. "

You chuckled and rolled your eyes at his teasing before you both fall into a comfortable silence. The hum of the refrigerator make you slowly hum along. Before you knew it you were humming 'Can't help falling in love' by Elvis Presley and Dean immediately a recognises it.

His heart skipped a beat as he looked up, his gaze immediately locking onto yours. He tried to keep his cool, but he couldn't help the way his heart thundered in his chest. "Elvis, huh?" he said casually, trying to keep his voice steady. "You know I love this song."

"I didn't even realise I was humming it. " you say shyly before getting an idea. "Stand up. "

His eyebrows raised in surprise at your sudden command. "Stand up? " he asked with a hint of amusement, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips but he obediently stood up, curious to see what you had in mind.

Taking the beer from his hand and setting it on the table you grab both his hands in yours. "We're going to dance. " you say, grinning up at him. You place one of his hands on your waist and intertwine your other hands.

"Dance? Me?" he teased, his voice filled with disbelief but as your slender fingers intertwined with his own, and he felt the warmth of your waist beneath his palm he agreed. "You know I can't dance," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "I'll probably step on your feet."

"Then you'll just have to trust that I'm a enough good dancer for the both of us or that I'm way worse than you. " you giggle taking a step back and Dean follows.

The movements were slow at first so they both of you get the hang of it. Dean lets out a quiet chuckle but concentrates on not stepping on your feat. Soon you get comfortable and dance around the kitchen slowly to non-existant music.

Dean followed your lead, his movements still a little clumsy at first but slowly, as you swayed together, his steps became more confident.

He could feel your body moving in sync with his, the warmth of your skin sending a thrill through him. He tried to keep his focus on not stepping on your feet, but the feel of you in his arms made it difficult to concentrate.

"You're a good enough dancer for the both of us, it seems," he murmured, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

"I supposed so. " you allow your head to rest on his shoulder, Dean places a gentle kiss atop your head before resting his own head on yours.

He held you tighter as you continued to sway together. It almost felt natural, dancing with you like this. A sense of peace washed over him, something he hadn't felt in a long while.

"Wise men say, only fools rush in... " you begin to sing and Dean follows along in his own unique and husky voice.

"But I can't help falling in love with you," he continued, his tone low and gravelly.

He pulled you even closer, his calloused hands now gently tracing small circles on your lower back. The sound of your voices intertwined in song filled the air, the lyrics echoing around the quiet kitchen.

That night, you and Dean spent dancing around the kitchen. The chaos of the world silenced for a moment leaving just the two of you alone. The moonlight streamed in like a spotlight for you, the refrigerator hummed giving you music. Your voice and his became one just as your hearts had done.

Every now and then, he would place a soft kiss on the top of your head, as if to remind himself that this moment was real.

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