#he nailed soulless sam perfectly

[acecroft]

Sam Winchester in SUPERNATURAL 6.03

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Prey (Part 2/2)

Soulless!Sam x Reader

Word Count: ~2160

Warnings: Smut. Hooooo boy. He sticks his fingers in her mouth and makes her gag, briefly, and she likes it but you as a reader might not. Beyond that, I have no idea what to put here. The warning from the previous part, “can’t tell if he’s going to fuck her or kill her,” still very much applies, but he doesn’t kill her. There is enthusiastic consent, there’s nothing painful or kinky happening, no toys, no restraints, just... it’s dark.

A/N: Previous part is HERE.

He gets up and gets a glass of water, chugging it down before refilling it for her. She looks more composed when he comes back. She’s flushed, sweaty, still breathing heavy, but she shoots him a satisfied smile as she takes the glass. Sam pastes on a bland smile of his own as he takes off his boxer-briefs and slides back into bed next to her.

When she passes the glass back, Sam twists around to put it on the nightstand, and then she’s swinging a leg over his lap to straddle him. He rests his hands gently on her thighs and takes a second to appreciate all the bare skin on display. She curls warm fingers around the base of his cock, positioning herself over him, and then she pauses for a moment, raising an eyebrow at him silently.

“Consider this your formal invitation,” Sam smirks, and her breathy laugh turns into a groan as she sinks down with one smooth movement.

Sam grits his teeth and grabs her hips, squeezing harder than he probably should, adjusting to the way she feels: slick velvet heat, so fucking good he can barely see straight. It takes every bit of his self-control to fight that animalistic urge to fuck, to just piston his hips up and drive in deep.

Instead he lets her set the pace, and she doesn’t seem to be in any rush. She moves slowly, adjusting, shifting forward and back, and Sam watches the way her eyes flutter closed, the way she bites her lip. She’s sitting up, and Sam has a stellar view of the little twitches of muscles working in her abs, the tremors that are still running through her thighs, as she rocks her hips. She’s putting on a show for him, running her hands up her own torso; she palms her breasts and pinches her nipples, and Sam lets out a low noise of encouragement.

When she leans back, resting her weight behind herself, it changes the angle; Sam can hear her soft moan at the same moment he feels the rippling squeeze of her pussy around him as he presses into some new spot deep inside her. She lets out a sigh and rolls her hips. Sam stares hungrily at the place where their bodies come together, her cunt stretched tight around the flushed-dark, glistening-wet base of his cock. He rocks up into her slightly and she gasps, letting her head fall back on her shoulders, arching her back.

“Fuck yeah,” she groans. He adjusts his grip on her waist and rocks up again, harder, with a sharp jerk of his hips. The impact makes her breasts bounce and jiggle. He imagines what she’ll look like later, all that smooth pretty skin marked up by his teeth and fingernails.

She’s panting, now, bucking her hips up, matching the rhythm of his quick, shallow thrusts. He can feel her cunt pulsing and clenching around him, hot and slick and throbbing.

“Look at you,” he says approvingly. “Didn’t think you could get any wetter, the mess you made all over my face, but I can feel you dripping down my cock right now… you’re gonna come again, aren’t you?”

“Don’t stop,” she chokes out, screwing herself down on him with frantic, jerky movements.

“Nowhere near done with you yet,” Sam promises, and he can hear the way she whimpers at that, the way she clenches down hard and fast, and she throws her head back with a broken shout and a long, filthy moan as she comes. Sam fucks her through it, closing his eyes against the obscene sight of her heaving chest and belly: nipples tight and hard, sweat streaking down the swells of her breasts, hips twitching, his fingers digging into her flesh so hard he knows he’ll leave bruises.

He gives her a minute, waiting for the shudders to stop. She lets out a satisfied little sigh, hips still working in languid circles, and he tugs her forward for a kiss.

He flips them without pulling out, just rolling her easily onto her back and grinding in deep, and she lets out a surprised yelp that turns into a long, drawn-out whimper.

She’s loose-limbed and pliant, still riding the high of the last orgasm; he knows it’ll take some time before she’s begging for another. She’ll get there, though. She’s slick and relaxed and ready for him, taking every slow thrust with a little hum of pleasure. She runs her hands up and down Sam’s back, his arms, his shoulders, gently urging him deeper, touching him like she’s just reveling in the sensation.

Sam marvels at how trusting she looks. Her lips are curved up in a sweet smile, blissed-out and peaceful. Her body welcomes him in with every roll of his hips. He’s got her pinned, helpless, so soft and unsuspecting and eager. He could do anything to her right now.

He hitches her leg up higher around his waist and pulls almost all the way out before he pauses, just the head of his cock inside her. She whines, eyes fluttering open to give him a look that’s almost petulant in her surprise. Sam grins.

“Don’t tease,” she says, all breathy and delicate.

“It’s only teasing if you don’t follow through,” Sam smirks. He sinks in slow, inch by inch, perfectly controlled, feeling the way she arches her back and tilts her hips and stretches around him, until he’s buried as deep as he can be and she’s practically purring with satisfaction. He shifts and tries it again, experimenting, gauging her reactions.

So maybe he is teasing, but it’s fun.

She bites her lip when he twists his hips a certain way, whimpers when he grinds against her swollen clit, digs her fingernails into his back when he slides out torturously slow… Sam feels like he’s playing an instrument as he watches her respond to each tiny change in the friction between their bodies.

She’s starting to cross the line between pleasure and need, clenching down around him and panting as she tries to pull him in closer.

He shifts his weight and finds that angle again, the one that made her gasp and squirm, and when he drives in deep he can feel what it does to her. She practically chokes on her sharp inhale, eyes rolling back, and her silky cunt is flooded with this rush of wet heat, so goddamn good that it takes every bit of Sam’s willpower to hold back.

He sets a steady pace, not quite enough to tip her over the edge, just fast enough to push her to the edge and keep her there.

Sam’s muscles start to protest the even, unchanging rhythm, but it’s worth it to see that expression on her face, the way her pretty features start to contort into a grimace. It doesn’t take long before she’s cursing and clawing at his shoulders, nails biting into the skin and leaving fiery trails as they drag down his back.

“Oh, come on,” she groans. Sam grins to himself.

“Something wrong?”

“Come on, fucking fuck me,” she snaps. “I’m not gonna break.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Sam growls.

Her voice is ragged, but there’s a challenge in it as she hisses, defiant: “C’mon, is that the best you’ve got?”

Sam slams into her and stops, abrupt and immediate, tension coiling in his muscles as he forces himself to freeze. He can feel her twitching and writhing, squeezing around the length of his cock where he’s splitting her open, trying to force him to move. He’s shoving her down into the mattress and holding her, pinning her with his weight. She’s helpless.

He can hear the moment she realizes it; her voice catches on a curse and trails off as she realizes, belatedly, how badly this could go. Sam smiles and wonders how long it’s been since someone heard that challenge in her voice for what it was.

“On your knees,” he snaps, and he pulls out, sitting back on his heels and waiting. He watches her impassively as she stares, wide-eyed, making a decision. He can see the frantic cornered animal in her battling with the pure desperate lust, and lust wins, like he thought it would; this is exactly what she wanted, whether she’s willing to admit it or not.

She scrambles onto her hands and knees, arching her back like a cat in heat and spreading her legs, putting her glistening-wet cunt on display for him. She’s offering herself up to him, utterly shameless, and he takes a moment to appreciate the filthy pornographic sight.

Then he sidles up behind her, shoving her knees farther apart so that he can kneel between them. He bends forward slowly, deliberately, draping himself over her, curling one arm around her ribs, gentle like a caress. He tangles the other hand in her hair. Then he yanks, forcefully hauling her upright, making her cry out and almost lose her balance. He holds her in place with a palm flat against her breastbone, her back to his chest, and she clutches at his forearm, whimpering.

When he releases his grip on her hair and slides his hand down to her lower belly instead, she lets her head loll back against his shoulder, baring her throat for him. His cock is still wet from her, still rock-hard and aching, and when he presses his hips forward, she sucks in a labored breath and grinds back against him.

“Now,” Sam whispers, deathly calm, against her ear. “Was there something you wanted to say?”

She bites out each syllable, enunciating with exaggerated care: “Is that. The best. You’ve got?”

Sam clenches his jaw, tamping down the white-hot flare of anger. He’s not going to be the one to lose control here.

He inches his hand down to her slick, swollen entrance, sliding two fingers in, up to the second knuckle. She groans low in her throat. He can feel her knees shaking, threatening to buckle.

He raises his hand to eye level so that they can both see the wet shine on his fingertips. He holds them to her mouth and waits. Slowly, obediently, she licks them clean.

Then he pushes deeper, rough and careless, shoving them between her parted lips until she starts to gag.

He doesn’t have to say a word; Sam’s pretty sure she gets the message.

He eases up, letting her draw a strangled breath, but he keeps his fingers pressed down on her tongue as a reminder. Her body is stiff and tense against his, trembling slightly, and he can feel her heartbeat pounding under his palm.

“Let’s try that again,” he whispers. “Was there something you wanted to say?”

He smiles smugly as she tries to answer. With her tongue trapped under his fingers, the words come out as choked, garbled noise. He pulls them away, just rests them on her bottom lip, and lets her try again.

“Please,” she croaks. Her cheeks are flushed deep red; it might be shame, or arousal, or a combination of both.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me. Hard.”

“That’s better,” he snarls, and he shoves her down on all fours.

She’s trying to brace herself, pushing up onto her forearms, but Sam’s done waiting. He grabs her hips and shoves in all at once, hard and fast, groaning as he’s enveloped by feverish drenching heat.

He runs his hand down her spine, from the nape of her neck down the sweeping curve of her back, all the way down to palm the plush swell of her ass. It’s unreal how tight she feels in this position; he’s got her stuffed full, her cunt clamping down in pulses of slippery pressure as she tries to adjust to the stretch, and she’s rocking back like she wants more even as she lets out a broken, helpless sob. It feels like he could rip her apart with one rough thrust.

Then again, that’s sort of the point, isn’t it?

He gets this hunger, this urge to destroy, to take something beautiful and tear it to shreds, and maybe he could go find a fight or he could take what he wants by force, but where’s the fun in that? He’s the apex predator; nobody else would stand a chance if it was a matter of pure strength.

But here she is, face-down and squirming, not only letting him break her but desperate for it. That takes skill.

“Sure you don’t want me to go easy on you?” he asks softly. “You might thank me for it, later.”

She lets out a shaky moan. “Anything. I can take it, just - whatever you want. Anything you want. Please.”

There’s a dark thrill of need at the base of Sam’s spine, a red haze at the edges of his vision, wildfire surging under his skin.

Any animal can hunt, trap, kill… how many can make their prey enjoy it?

.

.

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[saxxxology]

Calling the Shots (oneshot)

Old Sam used to be good at listening to others. New Sam calls the shots all day, every day. 

PAIRING: Soulless!Sam x Reader WARNINGS: brief fighting, dom/sub themes, minor dub-con if you read fast, Sam’s a control freak, blowjob, deepthroating, rough sex, spanking (implied past use of a belt), squirting, fingering, creampie NOTE: Edited by me - please heed the warnings and enjoy! This work is 18+ only.

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You and Sam were fighting. Again. This time, it was over a kill that should have been yours. You’d had the last vampire right in your sight and Sam had jumped in, taking the thing out for you. You didn’t like him stealing your kills, and he’d endured the cold shoulder for over fifty miles back to the motel room.

“I was saving your ass,” he snapped, kicking his boots off, “don’t get your panties in a wad.”

You whirled on him. “I had it! I’m not some helpless little girl, Sam. You might think I am, but I’m perfectly capable of taking out a vampire on my own!”

“Sorry, but you were takin’ your sweet time sneaking up on him. If he’d caught your scent he would’ve tried to—”

“God, I’m so fucking sick of you doing shit to try and save me,” you scoffed, “all it does is stroke your ego and piss me off, I don’t see the point.”

“Then why don’t you leave?”

“Excuse me, but you’re the one who pulled me back in,” you returned harshly, “but I’m starting to get it now. You don’t want me to hunt, you just want someone to fuck, huh?”

Sam chuckled, staring darkly back at you. “The sex is a bonus. I gotta say, what you lack in your hunting skill, it makes up in the bedr—”

Outraged, you raised your hand, ready to swing back and smack him. Your palm was barely six inches from his cheek when Sam grabbed your arm, wrapping his fingers easily around your wrist. He slammed you up against the wall, hard. Air whistled from your lungs, and Sam bent down to whisper in your ear as you coughed and wheezed, trying to suck oxygen back into your lungs.

“You wanna try that again, sweetheart?”

“You—” you gasped for breath, “—you’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”

Sam laughed wickedly and watched as you slowly regained your breath, eyes watering. “I’m not an asshole. I’m just the one who calls the shots.”

Again, you raised your free hand, and this time he didn’t stop you in time.

Sam’s head jerked to the side, and he was silent for a long second before he grabbed your other wrist and spun you around, shoving you hard against the over-flowered wallpaper. “I really need to teach you not to hit me,” he growled.

He dragged you over to the bed and threw you down, quickly tugging your leggings down over your ass and down to your ankles. They ripped as the fabric caught on one of the zippers, but Sam didn’t care. He just climbed over you, bunched his hand in the fabric of your panties, and gave the side a sharp twist. The waistline bit into your skin, making you cry out, and then Sam was tossing the ruined clothing off the side of the bed and bringing a hand down on your bare ass.

“Sam—!”

“Don’t move.” He straddled the backs of your thighs and braced one hand on your lower back. “You don’t do anything unless I say you can. Understand?”

You struggled, but not because you wanted freedom. This was one of the reasons you stayed, to have Sam holding you down and fucking you completely, owning you in any way he wanted. Slapping him had broken the trust he reserved in you, and your chances of escaping a lesson in where you belonged were about the same as a snowball’s chance in Hell.

But you couldn’t complain. Sam was a great teacher.

“Yes, Sam.”

“Good.” Sam quickly pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. You went stiff when the tinkle of his belt filled your ears, and he chuckled darkly. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna get you with this,” he leaned over to kiss your shoulder, “although I do love it when you can’t sit down.” 

He spanked you again, hard, gripping the soft flesh of your ass before raising his hand to do it again. “You love this,” he slid his fingers between your thighs and teased your pussy. “Gets you wet every time… bet I could make you cum just from spanking you, get you so close you cum right when I slide my cock into you…”

You whimpered when he rubbed your clit between his middle and index fingers. “Please…”

“Hmm?” Sam rubbed his fingers a little harder, smiling when you tried to arch into his touch. “What was that, sweetheart?”

“Spank me again, Sam.” You turned your head and wiggled your hips.

He obliged, raising his hand and delivering a loud smack to your ass. He soothed the red mark with a quick massage of his palm. “I’m gonna make this pretty ass hurt,” he lowered his voice, “teach you a lesson to keep your hands to yourself, huh?”

“Yeah.” You opened your mouth as Sam braced one palm between your shoulder blades, immobilizing you beneath him. “Oh fuck, Sam…”

“What?” He ran his free hand over your ass, touch soft and soothing compared to the harsh slaps he’d delivered only moments before. “You gettin’ close?”

You whined as he reached around brought his fingers to your clit, rubbing small circles over it with slick fingers. You opened your mouth in a harsh cry as he leaned over to nip at your shoulder. “Yeah, just a little mo—”

You cried out into the mattress as he spanked you again. You knew your ass was going to be sore as fuck the next morning, but you didn’t care. Sam was intent on “teaching a lesson” and you was all too willing to let him put everything he had into it.

“You’re gonna cum right when I put my cock in you, huh?” Sam reached down to undo his zipper, keeping one hand between your thighs. “I wanna feel you cum, that tight little cunt squeezing me…”

He stood suddenly, quickly walking around the bed to kneel in front of you on the mattress. He rolled you onto your back and teased his cock against your lips, groaning as they parted to give the side of his shaft a gentle kiss.

“I’m gonna fuck your mouth and you’re gonna be a good girl about it.”

You shivered at his tone, but knew that you could refuse at any time. Soulless or not, Sam still understood the boundaries, that, in the bedroom, at least, no meant no. He’d just go find a lonely little barfly to fuck instead. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Open.”

You obediently opened your mouth, tilting your head back so Sam could thrust slowly into your mouth. He tasted hot and salty, and you moaned at the flavor on your tongue. Blowing Sam was enough to get you off untouched, and he damn well knew it.

“That’s my girl.” He gently rolled his hips, careful not to trigger your gag reflex as you began to lick and suck at the head of his cock. “Fuck, that pretty little mouth… looks so good wrapped around my cock.”

You moaned again, and Sam stiffened at the sensation. He placed one hand on the valley between your breasts, holding you still so he could press deep into your throat. You swallowed, and his hips jerked—he could see himself bulging your throat, at the juncture of your chin and neck. When you gagged and pushed on his hips, he pulled back with a loud pop, and you gasped, inhaling deep before tipping your head back to take him back in.

“You’re a greedy little slut, aren’t you?” Sam stroked himself as you sucked harder, spit-slick lips gliding back and forth on his length. “Can’t keep your mouth off my cock once you get a taste, huh?”

You blinked up at him, sliding your tongue over the sensitive spot before taking him deeper until he was just about to hit your gag reflex, and then pulled away, gasping for air.

“One more time,” Sam commanded. His upper lip curled into a snarl as you reached between his legs, gently massaging his balls with your fingers.

“Fuck, nothing gets away from you, does it,” Sam growled, “you better be careful or this is gonna be over before I’m done with you.”

This time, he dragged you up and spun you around, planting a firm, messy kiss on your lips and spanking your ass again. The ache spread through your body, and you felt your walls clench hard around nothing. Sam pushed you down onto your back, shoved your legs open, and lined himself up.

“I’m gonna make you scream,” he muttered, and with a vicious thrust, he was inside, grinning as you trembled and clenched around him. He didn’t wait, just started fucking into you, using his body to hold yours against the mattress.

It was hot and sweaty and fucking perfect. His skin slapped against yours with every inward thrust, and within seconds the pleasure was boiling over into something almost too strong for you to handle. You whimpered and sobbed as he dug his knees into the mattress, pushing harder and deeper. Your nails scraped down his back, and he shouted, his thrusts now making the bed slam against the wall.

“Sam, I can’t—” your voice broke as he changed the angle of his hips, driving his cock right against your sweet spot.

“Yes, you can,” he muttered, “it’s part of your lesson. You cum when I say you cum. I wanna hear it.”

“Sam, please—”

“Now.”

You threw your head back in a silent scream as your orgasm crashed over you, exploding between your legs and soaking the blankets under them. Sam shouted at the sensation of your pussy squeezing tight around him and fucked harder, grunting with the effort of working you through an orgasm so powerful you thought you might pass out. You were squirting on him, gushing wet and warm over his dick and thighs. The bed was going to be ruined when he finally got done with you.

“Oh God, Sam, please—!” you whined as his thrusts began to slow, the sound of your bodies smacking together suddenly quieting. “Please… give me a minute…”

He pulled out, watching as you writhed and twitched, panting through the aftershocks of your orgasm. “That was a good one, huh?”

“Mmm…” was all you could manage.

Sam dipped his head to kiss you, soft moans muffled against his lips. “Never made you squirt that hard before.” The head of his cock slid over your clit, and you stiffened, pressing your lips together. “Oh, you want more?” He shoved two fingers inside you, roughly fingering your sweet spot until you were gushing again with a loud squeal of pleasure. When you pulled away, he let his palm fall with a loud slap on your inner thigh. “Hands and knees.”

Weakly, you rolled onto your side. That was as far as you got on your own; Sam had to push your onto your stomach and turn your head to the side so that you could breathe. “Sam, I need…”

“Yeah?” Sam ran one hand up and down your back. “Whaddya need, baby?”

“You,” the word was a breathy gasp. “I need you to cum.”

Sam chuckled and leaned back. “Then spread your legs.”

You obliged, slowly parting your thighs so that Sam could sink back in, his entry made easy by the explosive orgasm you’d had only a minute before. A loud moan left your lips as he stretched himself over you, kissing and nipping at the back of your neck. After a few long, drawn out thrusts, he held himself over you and started pounding harder, the wet sound of his dick inside you filling the room.

“Oh, yeah,” he raised his hand and spanked your ass, “Yeah, baby, I’m gonna cum...”

You braced your hands against the mattress as he sped up. “I wanna feel it.”

“I’m getting there, sweetheart, but you’re gonna have to work for it,” he whispered, “I want you to fuck it outta me.”

He knelt behind you, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you back on him. You got the hint and started rocking your hips, letting your pussy slide back and forth on his cock. Sam exhaled shakily and watched, rubbing his palms over the globes of your ass.

“That’s it, keep doin’ that,” he bit his lip and watched the way your pussy stretched around him. “Keep workin’ that little pussy on my dick. Fuck, I’m gettin’ close, sweetheart. Ready to take all my cum?”

You nodded quickly. “Yes, Sam, fill me up.”

Sam growled, then his hands were on your shoulders, shoving you down hard into the mattress. You felt his cock start to throb and his hips were snapping against your ass harder than ever. He was always rough when he came, letting all the pent-up arousal flow out through every pore. The sound of his hips smacking against your ass reverberated around the room, and you screamed into the pillow as he pounded against your sweet spot again. 

He came with a loud yell, spurting deep inside you as his eyes slammed shut, his whole body shuddering with pleasure. When he finished he leaned back, letting his cock slide free, and watched as his cum ran down your thighs, making a mess on the sheets. “God, that’s hot,” he breathed, spreading the cheeks of your ass to get a better view. “I should do this every night.”

You stretched out, whimpering when the muscles in your back tensed and pulled. “I wouldn’t mind,” you murmur. 

Sam climbed off the bed, chuckling darkly as he wiped himself clean with his boxers. “Take a shower,” he said, “I’m gonna get you somthin’ to eat.”

He changed back into his clothes quickly and slipped his wallet into his back pocket before vanishing out the door, leaving you in total silence. You sat up slowly, wincing as more cum drooled out of your pussy and stained the coverlet below. 

“Gross,” you said, despite feeling a flush of arousal at the sight of your skin stained milky white. Gingerly, you slipped off the edge of the bed and padded slowly to the bathroom and turned the water on. 

You had a feeling that Sam wasn’t done with you yet.

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[mittensmorgul]

I’m watching s6 again, and boy howdy do I adore some of these episodes. I kinda want everyone to rewatch them while keeping in mind the events and themes of s13.

6.09 is absolutely my favorite exposition on Soulless Sam, and the disconnect between Dean’s inherent empathy, Sam’s complete lack of emotional understanding (via soullessness, but ALSO from the point that he IS accessing his memories of “Soul Sam” and STILL not able to comprehend empathy even on an intellectual level based on those memories... Edlund NAILS this perfectly), and Dean’s frustration at being misunderstood. Not to mention the lengths Dean goes to put aside his own emotional needs in favor of Sam. And oh gosh, Dean struggling to explain how to “be a soul” based on his own deeply emotional understanding of how to human. GOOD STUFF.

6.10 is agonizing via hindsight, especially, but it’s also EXCELLENT not only for the soulless Sam stuff, Castiel’s involvement and thoughts about Sam’s predicament, AS WELL as some spectacular exposition of Dean’s feelings about Family™, about the choices we make, about the relative morality of those choices, and the wider consequences of making selfish choices at the expense of family...

6.11... is still probably my favorite (or maybe second favorite) episode of the entire damn series. If you’re struggling with the “morality” of what’s happening in s13, I suggest rewatching this episode until you understand.

After all this, the TNT loop inexplicably threw us back to 1.09, Home. And again, same themes. :P

[saxxxology]

What Lurks Beneath the Surface - 4

After Sam’s ultimate sacrifice, you struggle to cope. When he shows up after months of being gone, you’re happier than ever to see him. That is, until you realize that the love of your life is much different than you remember. 

PAIRING: Soulless!Sam x Reader WARNINGS: canon divergence (season 6), angst, suspense, violence, smut, minor dub-con, and more. NOTE: Some elements of this series are a little darker than what I usually write. Warnings are sporadic to avoid spoilers - if you feel uncomfortable it is up to you to stop reading or message me with any questions. This chapter contains Dean smut that I haven’t edited since this fic was originally written.

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Series Masterlist

Dean drives at almost twice the speed limit back to his motel room, and he practically drags you to the door. Once inside, he shrugs his jacket off, stepping forward and moving you back against the door. 

“You sure you want this?” His voice is thick with arousal, but it’s in his nature to make sure you want it.

You smile lazily, one hand finding the growing bulge in his jeans. He groans in response, letting his hips jerk forward. 

“I want it,” you moan. “I need it, Dean, I need you—” 

He stops your rambling by panting a firm kiss on your lips, and your hands immediately fly to the buttons on his shirt. He lets you push it away, groaning when his hands join yours in pulling your own shirt over your head. You’re somewhat upset that you’re wearing a plain, soft bra and cotton panties instead of something more sensual, but Dean doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Damn,” he whispers, watching you step out of your boots and jeans. “Come here.”

He wraps his arms around you, spinning you around and backing you farther into the room. The backs of your legs hit the edge of the bed. You topple backwards, legs spread, and Dean issues a low groan as he unbuckles his belt, and you use your feet to help him kick them down his legs and off the edge of the bed. You don’t waste time reaching down to rub your hand over him, and holy shit is he packing. 

“I wanna taste you.” Dean whispers against your lips. He grinds himself against you, making you ache and throb with need as you feel him through his boxers, hard, hot, and ready. 

You giggle and close your eyes when Dean hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and over your feet. He doesn’t stop to look at you, just licks a broad stripe through your folds, pausing to surround your clit with his lips. You gasp and throw your head back as pleasure rushes through you. It feels incredible, but you need him inside you more. 

“Inside me,” you plead, “I just want you inside me.” 

Dean silences you with a surprisingly gentle kiss. “Condom…?” 

“Yeah, definitely.” You feel him get off the bed and let your eyes fall closed. The sound of a zipper echoes through the room, and then the sound of a brand new box of condoms being ripped open. Ever so briefly, you wonder if Dean had literally gotten a brand-new box of condoms because he was coming to see you. Like he knew this might happen.

A few seconds later, he’s back on top of you, kneeling between your legs as he suits up. He’s long and thick, and you hope you feel it the morning after.

Wordlessly, he settles himself over you, his dick falling thick and heavy between your thighs. He reaches down and lines himself up with your entrance, and you arch your back underneath him. 

“Look at me,” he whispers, “look at me, baby.” 

You obey him, looking deep into his serpentine eyes as he starts to push forward, easily entering you in one long, smooth thrust. He grunts as he pushes forward again, this time sliding deeper, and you clench around him, making him groan your name.

“Oh my God, Dean…” you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer, forcing his cock to slide even deeper. He fills you up and stretches you until you feel him bottom out with his hips resting against your ass. 

“Fuck—” he lets his teeth graze over your collarbone, his lips soothing the light scrape. Pulling his hips back, he slowly drags out of you until the first inches of his cock are pressing just at your entrance, and then he slams forward again, moaning loudly when he feels your pussy tighten around him and hears your resounding cry of pleasure. 

“Harder, Dean.” You look up at him, rocking your hips. “Fuck me like you want to, you won’t break me.” 

Dean kisses you, roughly biting your lip before drawing back and slamming forward again. You moan louder and scratch your nails down his back, encouraging him to speed up. The sound of his hips slapping against your ass resonates in the tiny motel room, mixing with the sounds of your panting and moaning. 

“Roll over.” Dean pulls out of you, and you whimper at the suddenly empty feeling. When you don’t move fast enough, he grabs your shoulder and pushes you onto your stomach. The insides of your thighs are slick with your arousal, and you moan when Dean lifts your hips up, sliding back inside you with ease. From this angle, he hits your sweet spot perfectly. 

“Oh fuck—” Dean growls as your warmth envelops him again. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you up, pressing his chest against your back. His hands grip your waist and he slips one down between your legs, rubbing at your clit. It doesn’t take long for you to work up the friction, and when you feel his breath coming in sharp, hoarse pants against your shoulder you know he’s close to losing it. 

“I’m gonna cum,” he murmurs, “cum with me.”

You bite your lip and hold onto the forearm he’s got across your shoulders as his hips begin to stutter. His fingers quicken on your clit, and you let out a hoarse whimper as you cum. It’s explosive, leaving you a shuddering mess as you let your head tip back against his chest.

You’re just starting to come down from your high when Dean pushes forward one more time and cums deep inside you. He holds you tight as he falls forward, letting you catch yourself on your hands. His hips jerk as he settles on top of you, one hand keeping his body from crushing you, the other wrapped around your hips, fingers resting lazily on your clit. 

“Jesus,” he pulls away and falls onto his back next to you, his chest heaving. He waits for you to snuggle close before speaking again. “Glad we did that.” 

“Me too.” You look at him, gauging him for any sign of regret. Quite the contrary, he looks completely blissed out. “Do you want me to stay?” 

Dean nods. “Yeah… it’s been a long time.” 

***

The following morning, you wake up to the scent of warm vanilla and spices. After a few seconds of slow, deep breathing, you realize that Dean’s lying next to you, his skin warm and smooth against yours. 

Your mouth tastes foul, and you carefully slip out of bed and make your way to the bathroom, using Dean’s toothbrush and mouthwash to clean the sour taste from your tongue. 

The air in the bathroom is cold, and you’re still naked from the night before, little events of which are starting to flash back into your mind. Dean on top of you, behind you, inside you… little memories of his lips warm against yours, his calloused hands roaming your body… 

Last night had been the best you’d had in months. 

Walking back into the room, you see him lying on his back, the fingers of one hand gripping the sheet that’s positioned perfectly over his hips, the others pressed over the spot where you’d been lying just a few minutes earlier. 

You climb back into the bed and pull the sheet up over your chest, turning your head to gaze at Dean’s face, at the light stubble on his jaw, his long eyelashes, his soft pink lips… you could get dressed and leave right now, go back to Sam and deal with whatever mood he’s in today, but you don’t want to.  

Staying next to Dean seems so much better. 

It takes Dean a few more minutes to wake up. When he does, he doesn’t open his eyes right away; he stretches, rolling onto his side and extending one arm over your stomach. When he feels you next to him, his lips stretch into a smile. 

“Good morning,” you murmur, feeling Dean’s arm tighten around your waist. 

“Indeed,” he replies, pulling you close and pressing his lips to your shoulder. “I hate to sound cheesy, but last night was amazing.” 

You giggle and reach up to graze his cheek with your thumb. “It was… I had a lot of fun.” 

“I could tell.” Dean raises himself up on one arm, holding himself up over you. He bites his lip before tilting his head down, his lips slightly parted. 

He kisses you gently, one hand pressed against the top of your head. You return the kiss, sighing against his plush lips. 

“Do you want to?” he asks, pointedly flicking his eyes down. 

Oh, you do. But if you do it again, you’re definitely not going to want to leave, and Sam must be going nuts, wondering where you could be.

“I’m kinda sore,” you reply, giving Dean an apologetic look. “And I should probably go soon…”

He nods, understanding. “I get it. I’m gonna hop in the shower, will you stay ‘til I’m done?”

You nod and give him one last kiss before he slips out of bed, walking naked into the bathroom and stepping into the shower. You decide to check your phone while he’s occupied and fumble for your purse, finally digging the device out and opening your messages.

Three texts, all from Sam. 

    > What’s going on?

    > Are you with Dean?

    > Possible werewolf in Green Bay, WI. Get back here.

A case. 

Checking the time, you see you’ve missed Sam’s last message by nearly thirty minutes. 

Oh well. He can wait a little longer. You toss your phone onto the nightstand and get up, searching for your scattered clothes. Your muscles ache, but you push through as you step into your jeans and slip your shirt over your head. 

Dean comes back in a few minutes later, watching you loop your belt through the waist of your jeans. “So, you’re takin’ off?”

You cinch your belt and sit on the edge of the bed to put your socks and shoes back on. “Yeah. Time to get moving again.” 

“Mm.” Dean sits up and watches as you go to the wall mirror and adjust your clothing. “So… not coming with me?” 

Your heart hurts a little at the sound of his voice, the small hint of sadness that lingers behind the question. “I can’t, I need to take some more time alone…” you swallow, “it’s hard looking at the Impala and remembering that… that he’s not here, y’know?” 

You hate how easily the lie slips from your lips, but Dean eats it right up, doesn’t question your response. “I get it… I keep looking over when I got somethin’ to say and the seat’s empty.” He clears his throat and looks over at the window. “I should probably get out of here too.”

Now comes the awkward goodbye to the best friend you’ve just fucked.

“Come here.” Dean stands up, opening his arms. He doesn’t go to kiss you, just wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you close. It feels good being with him. Hanging around with Sam is getting harder and harder every day, and you’ve felt more joy, experienced more love, and had more pleasure with Dean in the past ten hours than you have with Sam in the past ten weeks. 

“It’s hard, and I know I haven’t been around to help you,” he says quietly, “I promise, if you call me, I’ll be there. I don’t care how far away we are from each other or what time it is, but you say the word and I’m there.” 

You nod against his shoulder. “Okay… I’ll stay in touch.”

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