#sam  Winchester imagine
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Request: can you do one where she has an abusive ex boyfriend that they are aware of and he comes into the diner or something and spots her and messes with her but he basically just ends up threatening her and a few days later they are at the bar and he’s there and hurts her or something. you can figure it out from there, im sure it will be great. thank uuuu:))))
Dean and Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader
A/N: I hope this is exactly what you were looking for! Please let me know if you like this or not so I know what I can work on in my next writings! Everyone’s feedback is much appreciated like so so greatly appreciated. Requests are still open. You can literally flood my inbox with them, I don’t mind and I don’t mind writing things that I’ve already written! Thank you all!!!
Warning: Abuse
It was supposed to be just another quiet stop for the Winchesters. I was looking forward to something as mundane as a diner meal. A warm meal, some decent coffee, a few minutes without the looming threat of monsters or supernatural forces. It almost felt like normal.
I had slipped out of the car first, craving the smell of greasy diner food, and found a corner booth with a good view of the door. Sam and Dean followed shortly after, sitting across from me, and for a moment, I let myself relax. I could almost forget the weight of the world. I could almost pretend that we were just a normal family, sitting together for a meal. The low murmur of the conversation around me felt almost comforting. It was nice to feel like a normal person, if only for a brief moment.
The waitress brought over the coffee pot, filling my cup with a polite smile. I offered a small smile back, grateful for the normalcy.
But then, the door to the diner opened, and with it, a chill seemed to creep into the room.
I glanced up, my blood running cold as my gaze locked onto the figure that had just walked in. He wasn’t a monster, at least not in the traditional sense. He was human—far too human—and that was the problem.
Mike.
His eyes scanned the diner, his lips curling into a cruel smirk as they landed on me. My heart slammed into my chest as a sickening wave of panic swept over me. My hands suddenly felt clammy, my palms slick against the tabletop. I tried to breathe, but it felt like the air had thickened, suffocating me.
“Everything okay?” Sam asked, his voice laced with concern as he noticed my sudden stiffening.
Before I could answer, it was too late. Mike was already on his way over, his footsteps deliberately slow and deliberate, the sound of his boots clacking loudly against the tiled floor. His presence seemed to dominate the room, and the air felt suddenly too small, too tight.
I tried to keep my voice steady as I muttered under my breath, barely audible. “He can’t be here…”
Sam, not understanding the source of my fear yet, gave me a questioning look. “Who?”
But I couldn’t answer. I was already frozen, the world around me turning into a blur. My heart was pounding too loudly in my ears. I had only seen him once since I ran away from everything—since I left him behind. And now, here he was, standing right in front of me.
He didn’t even acknowledge Sam or Dean as he leaned in, his eyes gleaming with that same arrogance I remembered so well.
“Well, well,” Mike’s voice was low, laced with mockery. “If it isn’t the little runaway.” He leaned a little closer, his eyes glinting with something dark, something predatory. “Thought you could just leave, didn’t you? Thought you could just run away from me.”
My stomach dropped. Every muscle in my body tensed, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I had to get away. I had to leave—but I was trapped. Trapped in that sickening gaze, in the memories that rushed back all at once.
Dean’s voice was sharp, the protective edge in his tone clear. “Who the hell are you?”
Mike looked over at him, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing. “You don’t need to worry about me, tough guy,” he sneered, his gaze flicking back to me. “I’m just an old friend of hers.” He said the word with a twisted emphasis, almost like it was a taunt. “Funny, though. Guess some people can’t escape their past, huh?”
Sam’s hand moved instinctively to his gun under the table, his brow furrowing as he studied Mike. But Mike wasn’t finished. Not yet.
“You know,” Mike continued, leaning closer to me, his voice dropping to a sickening whisper that only I could hear, “you’ll always be pathetic and weak. And them?” He gestured to Sam and Dean, who were watching him now, their expressions darkening. “They are just waiting for you to run away like I was waiting. Nobody wants you. You’re useless.”
I recoiled at the words, my breath catching in my throat. I had to force myself to speak, to fight through the panic that was clawing at my chest. “Stop, Mike. Just—just stop.”
That was all it took.
Sam’s hand flew to his gun, his posture shifting into one of full alert. Dean’s eyes were cold, murderous, as he slid out of the booth, taking a protective step forward.
“Mike?” Dean’s voice was low, filled with the kind of rage that only came from protecting family. “You’ve got about three seconds to walk out of here, or I swear to God, I’ll put you in the ground where you stand.”
But Mike didn’t move. Instead, he looked at me, his grin widening into something more cruel, more malicious. “Awww what the little pathetic baby can’t protect herself, huh?” His eyes flicked to Sam and Dean. “You’re just so useless in every aspect there ever was, huh?”
I was trembling now, the panic overwhelming me. “You don’t get to talk to me like that, Mike,” I forced through clenched teeth. My voice wavered, but there was a sharpness to it I hadn’t known I had until now. “You don’t control me anymore.”
The shift in the air was palpable. Sam had his hand on the gun now, his knuckles white from how hard he was gripping it. Dean’s jaw was tight, his whole body tense with barely contained fury.
“You need to leave, Mike,” Dean growled, his voice like gravel. “You’re fucking done.”
Mike’s eyes flicked between Sam and Dean, his grin faltering slightly, but his posture didn’t change.
“You’re just the same screwed up girl from before.”
Your breath caught in your throat. That was the line that broke you. The same girl. The girl he had torn apart for so many years. The girl who had thought she was worthless because of him.
The words stung in a way that you hadn’t expected. And that fear, that same suffocating dread from your past, began to creep in. You felt your knees weaken.
Dean’s voice was a low growl. “Back the hell off right now or I’ll beat the shit out of you right here.” His posture was threatening, and you saw the way his hands were ready at his sides.
Mike smirked, taking a final look at you. “You can hide behind these two all you want, but you’ll always be that same scared little girl. I’ll show you soon. I’ll remind them of who I really am. I’ll remind you.” Dean yanked him by his shirt and held him in a tight grip. I stepped back instinctively, my mind reeling as his words cut through me, dredging up memories I had worked so hard to forget. Mike had been my first love—my first mistake—and he had torn me apart. I’d run from him years ago, thinking I could leave it behind, but now here he was, reopening every scar, every bruise.
But this time was different.
Sam’s voice cut through the tension, sharp as a blade, his hand reaching for his gun, his voice unwavering. “I think you should leave before this becomes a bigger problem than you’re willing to deal with.”
Mike finally hesitated. His grin had completely faltered, his eyes flicking nervously to Sam’s hand on his gun and to Dean’s grip on him. But then he straightened, pulling himself together with a sneer.
“Fine,” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “But don’t think you’re done with me. None of you are.”
With that, Dean practically pushed him towards the diner’s exit. He stumbled towards the exit, his boots pounding on the tile as the door slammed shut behind him.
The tension in the room didn't dissipate until the door clicked shut, and the bell chimed again. Sam and Dean both stood in protective stances, eyes still locked on the door as if he might turn back at any moment. leaving us all tense and shaken.
Finally, Dean turned to you, his face softening slightly as he crossed back to your side. “You okay?” He asked gently. His voice was quiet, calming, but I could still hear the edge of anger beneath it, the protective instinct roaring through him. Sam turned to me, his eyes also softening with worry. You nodded, but it wasn’t convincing. The terror still gripped you. You were safe for now, but that didn’t undo what Mike had done to you in the past. The words still echoed in your head, the cruelty of his tone burning through your thoughts.
“Sweetheart…” Sam trailed off with so much softness in his voice. His eyes were so gentle as he looked down at you, trying to read your body language.
I swallowed hard, trying to shake off the cold, nauseating feeling his presence had left behind. I nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just... just a little nervous now.”
Dean’s eyes were still hard, but he was quick to reassure me. “He will never, ever touch you again. I promise you that, kid.”
Sam gently touched my shoulder, “we have your back. Always.”
And for the first time in years, I allowed myself to believe that I was no longer his.
The peace didn’t last for long though. It was supposed to be an uneventful stop—a break before we hit the road and got out of this God forsaken town. I needed a moment, a chance to breathe. Dean and Sam had been talking about a hunt tomorrow, so they disappeared into the back of the bar, probably discussing plans, leaving me behind for a drink and some quiet.
The low hum of the jukebox, the clink of glasses, and the murmur of casual conversations had a calming effect on me. I slid into a corner booth, tucked away, hoping for a rare moment of peace.
But peace is fleeting.
A shadow crossed the door, and my heart dropped into my stomach. The familiar figure of Mike, tall, broad-shouldered, with that smug, unrepentant grin, entered the bar.
Time seemed to stop. I didn’t want him here. I didn’t want to face him again. Not after everything.
I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my chest, but my hands trembled as I gripped my glass. I couldn’t look away from him, not when he started scanning the room with a slow, deliberate gaze. And then, his eyes met mine.
A twisted grin spread across his face, and I could feel the chill crawl up my spine. He recognized me.
"Well, well... Look who it is." His voice carried, and a sharp sense of dread flooded my chest. "I didn’t think you’d be hiding out in a place like this, of all places. And alone of all things."
I froze, my throat tightening. I wanted to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I forced my gaze downward, trying to ignore him. I didn’t want to make a scene, but everything in my body screamed for me to run.
Then, he was there. Standing at the edge of the booth, his face too close, too familiar.
"I told you, didn’t I?" Mike’s voice lowered to a sickening whisper. "You think you could just run away from me?"
I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t. His words dug into me, each one like a knife, twisting memories I’d buried deep.
Mike’s hand shot out, grabbing my wrist with a grip so tight it sent a wave of panic through me. His fingers dug into my skin, and I winced in pain. I tried to pull back, but he was stronger. His fingers tightened, and suddenly I heard a sickening pop, like something snapping in my wrist. My breath caught in my throat, a strangled cry barely escaping as the pain surged through my arm, radiating through my entire body.
"Stop..." I whimpered, barely able to speak.
"Please..."
A sick, triumphant smile stretched across his face as he looked down at me, watching my agony with amusement.
“Does that hurt, sweetheart?” he sneered, his voice cruel and mocking. “I told you, you’ll always be mine. You can’t run from me. You’ll always be weak.”
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even think.
"You'll always be mine. You'll always be that scared little girl. You think they can protect you now?" He laughed bitterly. "You're still weak. You always were." The pain was unbearable. The past came rushing back in waves—memories I had worked so hard to bury.
"Please... just leave me alone," I whispered, my voice small, helpless. But the more I begged, the harder he squeezed and every nerve in my body screamed.
When he finally released me, I flinched away, holding my arm close to my chest, trying not to show how much it hurt. He stepped back, his laugh echoing in my ears like a haunting reminder of the past.
Tears stung my eyes, but I couldn’t look at him anymore. I needed to leave. I needed to be away from him.
I pushed myself up from the booth, my legs shaky as I stumbled, pain shooting through my wrist. I had to get to Sam and Dean. They were my safe place.
I spotted them near the back, talking casually, and I made my way over to them. But as soon as they saw my face, both of them stopped. They were confused, worried—something wasn’t right.
“Hey, you alright?” Dean asked, his voice laced with concern.
But I couldn’t answer. I was shaking, my breath quickening as panic filled my chest. The pain in my wrist was unbearable, but more than that, it was the fear that had me paralyzed.
I whimpered, my voice barely above a whisper. “Can we go? Please. I… I’m sorry.”
Dean furrowed his brow, clearly not understanding what was going on. Sam turned to me, his face softening with worry, but I couldn’t explain. I couldn’t bring myself to say what had just happened. The words stuck in my throat.
“What’s going on?” Sam said gently, stepping forward as he tried to look me over.
But I didn’t know how to explain it. I didn’t know how to tell them that Mike—he—was here, that he’d hurt me again. The old fear wrapped around my chest, suffocating me, making it impossible to form the words.
I just wanted to go.
I looked down, clutching my wrist to my chest, desperately trying to stop the shaking. The pain in my arm was excruciating, but it was nothing compared to the terror I felt in my gut. I just needed to get out.
“Please…” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I just want to go. Please.”
Dean's eyes narrowed. "What happened?" he demanded, his tone sharper now, full of suspicion. "What the hell's going on?"
I took a step back, wanting to run. I was shaking, terrified of what might happen if I opened my mouth.
"Please..." My voice cracked, but I barely got the words out. "I just... I just want to leave. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause a scene.”
That’s when they noticed.
Sam’s eyes darted down to my wrist, where I was holding it against my chest, as if trying to protect it from the world. His face shifted from concern to something darker.
“Did someone hurt you?” Sam’s voice was sharp, full of the protective edge that only came out when someone threatened his family. But when Sam reached for my wrist, I shrieked in pain, the sharp agony from my arm surging through me like fire. My breath caught in my throat, and I staggered back, clutching my wrist tighter against my chest.
"Whoa, hey! What's wrong?" Sam's eyes widened, his hand immediately withdrawing as if he'd been burned.
Dean's head snapped toward us, his face now set in stone, eyes filled with fury. "What the hell happened to you?"
I was shaking now, too terrified to speak. The pain was throbbing, but the fear was worse-Mike's words playing over and over in my mind, his grip still seared into my memory.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I repeated, my voice shaking. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."
"What the hell happened?" Dean growled, his voice now a low, dangerous growl, the protective instinct flooding him. He stood up, scanning the room. "Who did this to you?"
I couldn't make myself say it. I couldn't say Mike's name. I couldn't admit that he was here, that he'd found me again and that I had let him hurt me.
Sam looked at me, his face full of worry. "You're not okay. You're hurt," he said, but I was too terrified to look him in the eye. "Let me see your wrist."
But I recoiled again, clutching my arm tighter against my chest, almost as if I could will the pain to stop. The world around me felt like it was closing in.
"Please, can we just go?" | begged, my voice so small, so broken. "I don't want to stay here. I'm—I'm sorry… please don’t make me stay here."
Sam's eyes softened, his brow furrowing in concern. "It's okay," he said, his voice soothing.
"We're going to get you out of here. But I need to know what happened."
"I-I can't," I whimpered, barely able to get the words out. "Please... can we go? I—I don’t want to be here anymore…please"
Dean's eyes narrowed when he noticed something-something in my expression, something in the way I was trembling. He followed my line of sight to the bar.
And then he saw him.
Mike.
His eyes narrowing when he saw him standing near the bar, still watching us with that same twisted smile.
“Son of a bitch. I’ll fucking kill him.” Dean’s voice was low and furious.
Dean's face went stone cold, his jaw tightening in fury. "You stay here," he snapped at Sam before striding toward the bar, his eyes fixed on Mike.
"This ends tonight." He growled.
Sam's attention immediately turned back to me, his eyes full of compassion but also deep concern.
"We're leaving, okay?" He whispered, his hand gently rubbing my back. "You're gonna be fine.
I've got you."
Sam grabbed me gently, trying to steady me as I swayed on my feet. "Hey, it’s okay. Let’s get you to the car, alright?" He guided me toward the door, his hand steady on my back, trying to shield me from anything else that might set me off.
I was shaking so hard now that I could barely walk. Every step felt like my whole body was falling apart. Sam helped me out into the parking lot, his arm around me for support, but my head was spinning.
“I’m right here, okay? You’re safe,” Sam murmured, guiding me to the Impala. He opened the door, helping me inside and then taking a seat beside me, his arm around my shoulders.
I still couldn’t stop shaking. The pain in my wrist throbbed, but it was the fear, the memories Mike brought with him, that really tore me apart. I curled into myself, pressing my face into my knees, trying to block out the world.
“Sam,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, cracking under the weight of the terror still coursing through me. “I—I can’t take it.” I could feel the tremors in my body, my hands trembling violently as the memories of Mike’s cruel grip and mocking smile surged back, unrelenting.
“Shh, sweetheart,” Sam whispered, his voice a low, soothing balm against my panic. He pulled me into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around me like a shield, his warmth grounding me. “He won’t hurt you again. I promise. We won’t let him.”
But the images of Mike—the way he’d grinned as he hurt me—flashed in my mind like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. His mocking laugh. His fingers digging into my wrist, squeezing until I thought it might break.
“Sam,” I whimpered again, my voice breaking under the strain of the terror that still gripped me.
“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m right here,” he said, his words steady but filled with an emotion I couldn’t place. I could feel him, tense and alert, but trying so hard to stay calm for me. He rubbed my back, his hand a steadying pressure, as if to remind me that I wasn’t alone in this.
“No… Sam. He—he—” I choked, unable to finish the sentence, unable to find the words that could make sense of what Mike had done to me.
“You’re okay, bug,” Sam whispered urgently, his voice soft yet insistent. “You’re safe now. He can’t hurt you anymore. I’ve got you.”
I could barely breathe. Every time I tried to inhale, the memory of his grip tightened around my chest. “He… he was mocking me,” I finally managed to get out, my voice trembling. “He wouldn’t let me go… and—he was holding my wrist so tight… so tight, Sam. I tried… I tried to pull away, but it hurt so much.” My voice cracked as the memory hit me with a wave of nausea. “I heard it pop. I—I heard it pop, Sam… and it hurt so bad… and he just smiled. He—he watched me cry out in pain, and he just… he just grinned.”
I couldn’t stop the sobs that wracked my body, the memories ripping me apart all over again. “He—he said, ‘Does that hurt, sweetheart?’ With…with a sick smile… mocking me, Sam. Mocking me.” My breath caught, and the words felt like they were tearing me apart as I said them aloud. “He was enjoying me suffering.”
Tears slipped down my face as the weight of it all threatened to drown me. “I—I was so scared. I couldn’t get away… I couldn’t escape him.”
Sam’s breath caught in his throat. The tension in the air thickened as Sam's eyes softened with every word you spoke, his heart breaking for you. He was furious, sick to his stomach at the thought of what you’d just endured. I could feel the anger rolling off him in waves, but his hands were gentle as he held me, pulling me closer to him. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” His voice cracked, but he didn’t let go of me, didn’t loosen his grip. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, as though he could somehow shield you from the world’s cruelty. He ran his hand gently over your hair, the soothing motion an attempt to calm you, even as his own anger simmered beneath the surface. His chest ached for you, and he could barely comprehend the reality of what you’d been through. His usually calm demeanor was shattered by the raw vulnerability in your voice, by the pain that was still evident in your body language.
"You’re safe now," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “He can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let him.”
You clung to him, your sobs shaking your whole frame. The words, the images of what Mike had done to you, kept replaying in your mind, and you couldn’t escape the fear that still gripped you. “I—I couldn’t get away,” you gasped between sobs, your breath hitching in your chest. “I tried, Sam. I tried so hard, but he—he wouldn’t let me go.”
Sam’s grip on you tightened as he inhaled deeply, the pit of his stomach sinking at the sound of your broken voice. “He hurt you... he hurt you, and you couldn’t get away,” he said, more to himself than to you, the words leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
He could feel the anger bubbling up inside of him, fury at the way Mike had tormented you, at the way he’d tried to take control of your life again. The protective instinct in Sam had always been strong, but now it was on fire. He wanted to destroy Mike, to make sure he could never hurt you again.
“You’re so strong, you know that? So strong.” Sam whispered softly, trying to soothe you, even as the guilt gnawed at him. He wasn’t there when you needed him the most. He wasn’t there when you were so scared and alone, and it tore him apart. “You got out and he will never get near you again.”
You nodded against his chest, your tears soaking through his shirt. “I just want to go home, Sam,” you whispered, your voice small, barely audible.
“I know, I know.” Sam’s voice broke slightly, and he pulled you even closer, the act of comfort nearly suffocating but necessary. “We’re going home, I promise. You’re safe.”
Sam gently cupped your face in his hands, pulling your head back so he could look into your eyes. His gaze was unwavering, filled with compassion and a fierce protectiveness that only grew stronger. "Listen to me, okay?" he said, his voice firm but still so full of love. “You’re safe. I’m here, and Dean’s taking care of it. You’ll never be alone again, okay? Not for a second. We’re going to take care of you.”
You nodded, tears still streaming down your face, but there was a sense of relief. In Sam’s arms, you felt like you were finally breathing again, the suffocating fear slowly easing just a little. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could be okay.
“I’m sorry, Sam,” you whispered again, feeling the guilt start to creep in. “I didn’t want to—"
“Hey,” Sam interrupted gently, his voice firm yet gentle, “You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing. You didn’t do anything wrong. You hear me?”
You blinked up at him, still trembling, but a small flicker of hope began to emerge. “I just…I just want to forget it all.”
“I know you do,” Sam said softly.
Just then, the driver’s door of the Impala swung open with a force that rattled the frame, and Dean stormed in, his eyes blazing with fury. The sight of you, still trembling, tears streaking down your face, seemed to momentarily soften the storm inside him, but the determined, protective look in his eyes was unmistakable. His jaw clenched tight, his fist white-knuckling the steering wheel, as he slammed the door behind him with a sharp thud.
“I took care of it,” Dean’s voice was low, gritty, strained with barely contained rage. His words held the weight of someone who’d just been to hell and back. “There’s a good chance he won’t even remember you when he wakes up.”
Sam’s eyes flicked to Dean’s knuckles, bloodied and raw, and the air in the car grew thick with the unspoken history of everything that had just transpired. “Holy shit, Dean,” Sam muttered, his voice a mixture of concern and disbelief.
Dean met Sam’s gaze, his expression cold and hard, a line of fury still drawn across his face. “I’m done letting him think he can still keep dragging her through hell. He got what was coming to him,” Dean growled, the last words leaving his mouth like a threat, but also as a promise to you.
Sam nodded, the corners of his lips curling slightly, the relief in his eyes undeniable. “Good.” His voice softened as he turned to you, the weight of the situation settling into his chest. “We’ve got your back. Always.”
Dean’s eyes flicked toward you for a brief moment, his face hardening again, but there was something softer in his gaze now—something tender, protective. He turned his attention to the rearview mirror, his posture tense, as though the rage still burned deep in his chest, refusing to fully dissipate. "He’s never getting near you again, kid," Dean said, his voice gravelly, but with a deadly certainty that made it clear he would move mountains to keep you safe.
And in that moment, for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed it. You believed they’d keep their promise. Mike wouldn’t touch you again. Not ever. The weight of that truth settled in your heart, the fear that had clung to you for so long slowly beginning to unravel. It was over. You were free. And with your brothers by your side, you finally felt like you could breathe again.
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ohsc · 5 months ago
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₊˚⊹♡ mean | sam winchester x reader
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requested - heyy could u make a sam x reader thing where he fucks rlly roughly but he’s really sweet during aftercare bc the idea that sam is rough during but sweet after makes me weak in the knees🫠🙏 (anon)
a/n - this is. probably the most filthy thing i’ve written. it’s just filthy smut. with a hint of sweetheart sam at the end. i need him so bad it’s not funny. still working on my longer plot fics but i wanted to get this out today to get back into writing!! hopefully you enjoy :) would very much appreciate feedback! <3
cws - fem!reader, 2.4k, nsfw 18+, meandom!sam turned soft!sam, oral f!recieving, praise, very mild choking, condescending words, p in v, mild overstimulation, tears, aftercare, fluff
other fics can be found on my masterlist
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
She was convinced that Sam’s mouth was a whole new kind of heaven.
He’d already made her cum once with his mouth alone, large hands pressed into the plush of her thighs to keep them spread, her hips stilled, which were twitching with every sweep of his tongue. He was skilled, drawing the pleasure out of her like it was nothing. Sam had easily spent fifteen minutes down there, eating her out like a starved man, like it was all he wanted.
And she didn’t know how she was still breathing. There was a relief that ran through her that Dean and Castiel weren’t in the bunker that night, because even though they were shut away in the privacy of their room, she was sure that she would’ve been heard. Sam had been pulling noises out of her all night, obscene lewd sounds that she would’ve been embarrassed about being heard if it wasn’t Sam with her.
He always made sure that as much as he made her feel, none of it was embarrassment.
His tongue flattened against her, licking a stripe up between her folds until he pressed against her clit and she shuddered, a horribly whiny sound pushed from her lungs when he closed his lips around the bead and sucked, like he was trying to pull the life out of her. Her hips jolted, unable to go anywhere as he had her pinned down, and she was practically seeing stars as Sam worked down there. She wondered if he was even breathing.
“Sam- oh my god—” She whimpered, hissed in a breath when he licked back down to her entrance and his nose nudged against her clit, stomach clenching as she reached her hands down to grasp onto his hair, fingers curled into the soft strands.
And then he pulled away.
His hands left her thighs as his mouth left her, but she didn’t have time to whine her complaints at the loss of sensation as his long fingers curled around her wrists, yanked her hands out of his hair. “What did I say, huh?” The tone of voice made her pussy clench around nothing. “Hands to yourself. You’re pretty bad at listening, baby.”
Sam shifted over her, his face over hers as he pushed her wrists down onto the pillows above her head, and she almost squirmed when she saw the look in his eyes, the way his lips were wet with her.
“Are you listening?” He squeezed her wrists as a reminder, and her eyes quickly flickered back up to his eyes. “Do I need to tie you up, or will you keep these here for me?” She knew he wouldn’t hesitate to do it. Sam could be such a soft lover — he’d kiss every inch of her skin, whisper praises and compliments, tell her he loved her a thousand times as he made love to her. But he could also be like this, mean and demanding as he fucked her silly over and over. She wasn’t sure which she liked more.
“I’ll keep them there.” She breathed out, her voice still a little too whiny. He’d gotten her so close to cumming again, the lack of stimulation was driving her crazy, her cunt throbbed as she stared up at him.
“Oh yeah?” Sam narrowed his eyes like he didn’t believe her, and let go of one of her wrists to take both into one of his large hands. Her eyes left his face to follow his second as it dipped down between them, fingering at the waistband of his boxers, until she heard a sharp, “eyes on me.”
Her gaze quickly flickered back up to his face. “See? You can be good sometimes, can’t you?” Sam cooed, boardering on condescending, as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her mouth, allowing her to taste herself. “You just need some reminding, don’t you, sweetheart? Get so lost in that pretty little head of yours when I’m making you feel so good.”
She’d been so distracted by watching his face, head spinning with his words, that she didn’t realise that he’d freed himself from his boxers until she felt the head of his cock nudging between her folds, gliding easily against her with the slick and spit collected there, and she mewled at the feeling, eyes squeezed shut as he nudged at her clit.
“Eyes open,” his hands left her wrists — which she knew now to keep still — and his fingers splayed across her jaw, squeezing unkindly until she looked up again. “Don’t make me tell you again. You wanna be good for me, don’t you?”
She nodded dumbly, sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth as he rubbed her clit with his cock. Teasing her. “Mhm, I will.”
“You will?” Sam gave her jaw one more squeeze, just for good measure, before he wrapped his fingers around the bare skin of her throat. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t put any pressure, just held her, but the threat was there. The head of his cock rested up against her slickened entrance as his head dipped down, lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “what’s your colour?”
They had a pretty rigid safe word system set out — it was something he went over with her every time they had sex, especially like this, when he was mean and grabby and knew that she wouldn’t like it every time. If she so much whispered the word red he’d be up and off of her before she could blink.
But all that left her words was a whiny, “Green, please Sammy.”
She felt his lips curve up against her ear as he smirked. “Good girl.”
Without warning he pushed into her and she sucked in a sharp breath, her own fingers grabbed at each other in an attempt to keep her hands still, and she shoved a breath out of her throat. He’d worked her open with his fingers when he’d been settled down between her legs, but she still felt the stretch, the burn as he settled his cock deep inside of her, and for a moment she had to remember to breathe back in.
“Fuck honey,” he grunted in her ear, fingers gripped her throat just slightly tighter, still only enough for her to feel pressure. “So tight for me, baby. Can barely take it, huh?”
He pulled back before he rutted back inside and she whimpered, squeezing her own fingers together so tightly so she didn’t break his rule. Needing to hold onto him somehow, though, her thighs clamped harshly around his hips, already trembly from the first orgasm he’d pulled from her.
He thrust in again, and again, and again, and soon she saw stars, gasping and whimpering with every drag of his cock against her gummy walls, pleasure rippling through her in waves that made her stomach clench, her cunt clamped down so tightly around him it was a wonder he could move at all.
“So noisy baby,” he crooned on a particular harsh thrust that made her whine, fingers a little tighter around her throat. “Can’t help yourself, can you?” He huffed with another thrust. “Need me to do all the work, hm? Greedy—” he grunted, “greedy girl.”
It took an embarrassingly short time for her to get close again. Sam was fucking her with determination, grunted every time he pushed himself back in, the head of his cock nudged the soft spongey spot inside of her that made her shudder again and again and again until she was a mess beneath him, lewd wet sounds accompanying her whimpers with each shift of his hips, her pussy fluttering around the stretch of his girth.
He didn’t slow down, didn’t ease up, didn’t give her a breather. She was close to tears by the time she was almost there, already sensitive from her first orgasm.
She clenched around him and his fingers, in turn, tightened on the sides of her throat. She trusted him, she knew he wouldn’t push it too far. Just enough for her to feel a little dizzy, for the bliss to wash over her like a high.
“Sam- mm- Sammy—” She was practically blabbering as her eyes filled with tears, gasping with each thrust, each smack of his hips against hers.
“Oh honey,” he cooed, condescending, mean. “Too much, hm? Need something?”
His hand loosened on her throat and she inhaled a little shakily.
“Please—” she whined, blinking through tears up at him. She didn’t miss the flicker in his eyes as the tears dribbled down her cheeks, but she knew that he knew she’d tell him if it was too much. It had happened before, neither of them messed around when it came to their safe words.
“Please what, huh?” He thrust in harshly and she groaned, cunt fluttering, so close— “Ah-ah, not yet. Don’t you need to ask me something, dolly?” He squeezed her throat once. “You remember what happens if you cum without asking, don’t you?”
Of course she did. The week prior she’d cum too soon, and he spent the next what felt like hours edging her, too skilled with his fingers, words too filthy that they made her head spin. He’d made such a mess of her that she hadn’t been able to even get up off of the bed for a little while after he finally let her cum.
“Mhm, mm, yeah—” she inhaled shakily, whining, thighs clamped tighter around his hips. “Please- please can I- please let me—” she groaned.
“Let you what?” He was dragging it out, the fucker, grunting into her ear as he leaned down over her, pushed his cock so deep her vision almost whitened out. “Tell me, honey. Use those words for me, c’mon.”
The tears were bubbling over faster, rolling down her flushed cheeks. “Let me cum, baby, please.”
“Asking so nicely,” he grunted, pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “How can I say no to something so pretty, hm? ‘Course you can, baby, go ahead.”
It wasn’t his words that did it for her, but the hand that snuck between them and pressed down on her stomach, the press of his cock suddenly so much more delicious that she almost fucking fainted.
She came with a breathless whine, hips jerked as she finally gasped a breath and whined again, her cunt throbbed around his cock as he kept pumping, rode her through it entirely. Her head tipped back, his mouth on her neck as her eyes squeezed shut, colours danced on the inside of her eyelids, her own little fireworks display.
Sam came shortly after, groaned into her ear in a way that almost made her cum again, and he rutted into her a few more times before he stopped, warmth spreading through her as he panted against her shoulder.
“Fuck,” he huffed, his own chest heaved, brushing against her bare skin. “Oh sweetheart.” The shift in his demeanour was palpable, soft kisses immediately littered across her shoulder and collarbone, palms flattened to smooth over her sweat-dampened skin. He could be so mean in the moment, so dominating and controlling that he left her a fucking mess underneath him, but afterwards? He’d probably feed her grapes and fan her if she asked him to.
She was still gasping for breath, head spinning, and when she knew she wouldn’t be told off for it her hands lifted, immediately clung to his warm shoulders. She loved the way his shoulders felt underneath her touch, muscles rippling with every movement.
Sam kissed up her throat and jaw before he landed on her mouth, and he kissed her slowly, huffed breaths into each other's mouths as he licked between her lips, sweeped behind her top teeth, their lips both wet with spit.
By the time he had pulled away, he’d so thoroughly kissed her that she almost had her breath back.
“You okay?” His voice was so soft it was like there was an entirely different person on top of her compared to five minutes prior. His hand left her throat, smoothed upwards and cupped her jaw. She felt him thumb away tears that had fallen, some clung to her eyelashes, somewhat cool against her hot and flushed skin.
She nodded as she stroked her fingertips along his shoulders with her fingertips, like she’d committed him to memory. She had.
“Hey,” he lightly tapped her cheekbone with his thumb. “Need words, honey.”
She couldn’t help her smile. He was so caring she sometimes wanted to cry. “M’okay,” she whispered, voice soft like she’d shared a secret. “Really good. You’re so good, Sammy.” She praised, tilted her head to kiss his wrist, and he smiled and blushed like he hadn’t just been the one to fuck the life out of her.
“Says you,” Sam leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re perfect. Love you,” another kiss. “Love you so much.”
She smiled so much her cheeks hurt. “Love you too.”
Sam smiled too, that soft smile that made his dimples peek out, eyes crinkled at the corners, and he stroked her cheekbone again. “M’gonna pull out, okay?”
Only when she nodded did he shift, slowly pulled his hips back until she was empty, until all she could feel was the wetness coated between her thighs.
“Christ, made a mess of you,” he murmured, not in the condescending tone from before, instead something closer to admiration. “You’re so pretty when you cum, y’know that?”
She blushed, hard, and shrugged as her cheek dipped to meet her shoulder.
Sam laughed, rolled his eyes as he leaned in and kissed her again. “Don’t get all shy on me now.”
She was still blushing when he helped her sit up, fingers delicately curled around her elbows to pull her upright, her back also damp with sweat. They’d need to change the sheets.
“Two options,” Sam murmured as he gently stroked hair away that was stuck to her forehead, baby hairs that clung to her temples. “We take a shower and let me wash your hair and then go get food, or you let me run you a bath and you wait there looking all pretty for me while I get you something we can eat in there so I can dote on you.”
“You just wanna wash my hair huh?”
Sam smiled. “Guilty.”
Her fingers found his, intertwined with a squeeze. “Bath sounds nice,” she eventually settled on. “As long as you don’t take too long in the kitchen. I’ll miss you.”
He was laughing when he pressed another kiss to her mouth. “Of course. Promise to not take too long, okay?”
She giggled and nodded, smiled against his mouth when he kissed her again. “Okay.”
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5sospenguinqueen · 6 months ago
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(Y/N and Dean stare out of the motel window)
Sam: What’re you guys doing?
Dean: TV doesn’t work.
Y/N: So, we’re watching the couple in the car park break up.
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samsno1 · 5 months ago
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warnings: oral s. (f.), pussydrunk sam
Sam never failed to make you see stars. Especially when he had you laid on your back, his hair tickling against your inner thighs and hands holding your hips down with an almost bruising grip as his mouth ate you out like his last meal.
Sam liked going slow, appreciating your taste and the feeling of going down on you. Your legs tightening around his head from time to time, when he hit an especific spot, your fingers going into his hair when you were close, your hips rocking against his face just for you to whine when he stops your squirming with his hands.
It was heaven.
He would get drunk on the feeling quickly, going for minutes and minutes until his jaw gave out — which usually took a long time to happen — leaving you either edged or overstimulated.
"S– Ah– mm..." You moaned out, pushing against his head with your hands. He wouldn't give it up. "T'much baby, too much" You managed to stutter out and Sam finally stopped, but not after giving a last teasing lick over your whole cunt, making you shudder.
He started kissing up your bare body, going through all the previous bites and hickeys he left on his way down. He left one last kiss on your left collarbone before being face to face with you. He had that look on his face, that lovesick, pussydrunk look he always had when he went down on you.
Your hands were tangled in his hair, your lips slightly parted as you let heavy breaths out. Hooded eyes and a lazy smile adorned your features as you looked at all the details in Sam's face.
"Sorry love" He said, pecking your lips. "You just taste so good it drives me insane" He murmured against your lips. You hummed and kissed him yourself, a bit longer, a bit more desperate than a simple peck. You pulled back again.
"You are an addict, that's what you are" You joked with him, shooting him a mischievous smile and his hands squeezed at your waist.
"How can I not be?" He didn't wait for you to answer as he suddenly reached down with his hand and gathered some of your slick in his middle finger. You opened your mouth in a soundless moan, your pussy still sensitive.
He brought his finger up to his mouth and sensually sucked on it, looking directly in your eyes. He made a show with humming — practically moaning — and you were absolutely speechless as you swallowed harshly.
"God..." You whispered.
"Especially when you look at me like that. Fuck, you're so hot" He almost growled as he smashed his lips against yours again, his tongue already invading your mouth in hunger. He arched your back with his hands, urging to be closer to your body.
Sam was absolutely crazy for you and he always showed you just how much.
A/N: Hey, this is just a tiny tiny drabble to give you guys something while I finish up a jealous!sam fic. Hope you enjoyed you horny asses.
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lokischickadee · 1 year ago
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Dean's face🤣🤣
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prentissluvr · 7 months ago
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three seconds — sam winchester
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for : 200+ followers event [ closed ] ➖⟢ pairing : sam winchester x gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : fluff ➖⟢ cw : light swearing, accidental cuddling, casual mention of marriage between sam and reader (it's just dean teasing tho lol), idiots friends to lovers, kissing, barely edited ➖⟢ wc : 1.2K prompt : sleeping in the same bed, as they’d often do, but one morning waking up cuddling
MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!
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to be truthful, this isn’t the first time you’ve woken up with yours and sam’s limbs entangled with each other’s. it’s just far less common for his hand to be so gloriously attached to your waist or his face to be tucked all sweet and warm into your neck. your own hands are placed in his hair and on his broad shoulder blade.
waking up like this is heaven; first, in the moments before you can process exactly what is happening, and second, once you realize and can bask in the splendor of having him so intimately close and vulnerable with you. then it comes crashing down as you remember that this isn’t quite how it’s supposed to be, and that you’ll never, not for a moment, be able to get this feeling out of your head, your body.
which means every moment after you untangle yourself from him will be full of a pure, undying, taunting want, maybe even need, to have him like that again. such a feeling is a general inconvenience as one considers that sam is your best friend, that he and his brother are just about all you have, and that you’d rather die than lose them to the fact that you’re in love with him. so clearly, it’s better he never knows, it’s just that constantly thinking about cuddling with him tends to lead to you making heart eyes at him or your cheeks flushing hot when he looks at you a moment too long.
then there’s the realization that sam is still asleep, the steady rhythm of his breath tickling your neck is both comforting and terrifying all at once. what if he wakes and jerks away, uncomfortable with your proximity? should you push him away before he even realizes the position you’re in? it’s not as if sam doesn’t enjoy physical affection; he pretends he doesn’t, but you’re convinced that he’s a cuddlebug at heart. maybe that’s an overly cute way of putting it, but you can feel how much he loves hugs, how much he enjoys having his head in your lap when you get a rare movie night. you’re just worried that this is too much, too close for even him.
and yet, you’re feeling selfish, because what if you never get him like this again? so you close your eyes again and just revel in the way it feels to have the tip of his nose pressed to your neck and his forehead against your jaw. his hands on you, so steady and sure in his sleep. his hair, soft between your fingers and the muscle of his back under your palm. his leg, tucked between yours. just the weight of him, pressed against you all solid and real and almost immovable until he wakes.
you hear dean stir a few feet away and you pray he won’t be able to tell you’re not asleep. breath even and eyes still gently closed, you hear dean move about, mumbling to himself. he’s digging around in a bag, pulling something out. then you feel him move closer and you swear he’s hovering at the foot of the bed.
then you hear a click, like that of a camera shutter, and you realize dean’s taken a picture of the two of you like this. pictures of the three of you are rarer, and dean being the one to take it means it’s special. you suppose blackmail is special in its own way and beg to no one that dean didn’t hear your breath hitch as you realize this moment is now immortalized by a picture that dean’ll print out someday and shove in your faces to make fun.
then dean’s mumbling to himself again, now close and loud enough for you to make out his words. “these two,” he sighs, tone practically chastising as if he sees something glaringly obvious, but the both of you can’t seem to quite get there. “i swear, the heart eyes from across the room, the longing gazes. god, they’ll be the death of me.” 
he really, truly thinks you’re asleep. he talks like this when he doesn’t know you can hear him. though usually not about you and sam, not like this. “they’re both such idiots. idiots in love,” he laughs humorlessly to himself, then turns away, stuffing the camera back in the bag he dug it out from. “maybe i should lock them in a closet,” he considers, voice so low you can barely catch his words, “see who caves first. then they’ll probably only thank me for that or the puke-inducingly cute photo once they’re married, those ungrateful asses. kids these days.” he lets out a huff of breath as he heads to the bathroom, seemingly done with his ranting about … about what? you and sam being in love with each other? what the hell was he saying, married? you and sam? you have to hold back from letting out a lovesick sigh.
you’re so caught up turning dean’s words over in your mind that only sam’s hand lightly squeezing your side brings you back to the present. your eyes shoot open and you pull your hand out of his hair. sam parts from you, barely. how long has he been awake? you’re almost too scared to look at sam, who hasn’t even attempted to untangle himself from you. he’s still got his hand on your waist and his leg tucked between yours and your eyes catch his without you meaning to. it’s always like that; your eyes will wander until they find his face, every time. it’s habit, instinct, unavoidable.
he looks at you long, and something about his pretty eyes turned green from the morning light and the color of the sheets keeps you holding his gaze, taking him in as he does you.
when sam finally speaks, his voice is hushed, but there’s this barely contained joy to it, begging to be released. “think we should save him the trouble?” the playfulness in his voice tugs at the corner of your lips. when he sounds happy, you can’t help but feel that way.
“of?” you ask, thinking you know what he means, but wanting to be sure.
“of locking us in a closet. sounds like a bit of a hassle, if you ask me,” he smiles at you, and his words plus the sight of his dimples has got you grinning without restraint. you wonder again how long sam was awake, but completely without apprehension this time. all the two of you needed was a few playful words exchanged, and now you know. though you wouldn’t have without dean’s unwittingly overheard grumbles, so you supposed you will have to thank him after all.
“i don’t know,” you say with a false air of careful thinking, “seems like it could be fun, y’know? it’s been too long since we’ve played a good trick on dean, don’t you think?”
sam doesn’t have an answer for that because he’s been too busy staring at the way your lips move, still pulled into a smile as you talk. you take another good look at him and wonder, how in the world did i miss it? the way he looks at me?
if he doesn’t kiss you within three seconds flat, you’ll do it yourself. it takes him those three seconds exactly, and you move in such synch it’s possible that your lips meet right in the perfect middle of the barely-there space between you.
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sleepyangelkami · 29 days ago
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COSTUME s.winchester
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𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 3.4K
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SAM WINCHESTER X FEM!READER
𝜗𝜚 A/N - this is my first ever time writing about sucking dick, please be nice to me, i'll cry.
𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - you had to dress up as an FBI agent with the winchester brothers. you felt stupid in a costume but luckily for you, sam really liked seeing you in a skirt.
𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, dom!sam, sub!reader, oral(s!rec), no p!v sex, size kink, praise kink, fingering, slight manipulation, reader lowk flexible, cum eating, messy sex, squirting, (1) use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷
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"come on, y/n, we gotta go!" you heard dean's not so gentle knock against the bathroom door as you slipped on your last mary jane shoe.
you weren't usually chosen for tasks like this.
usually, it was the winchester boys that did all this kind of thing, you know, fraud? you were usually just the researcher, sitting in the motel room as back up, with a laptop perched on your lap or sitting in baby, the key inside and waiting to be their getaway car.
you weren't really hands on when it came to being a hunter.
you never really had to go out into the real world for much. but this particular demon was snatching girls, twenty something year old girls about your age and appearance. the brothers thought it would be best if another girl accompanied them when investigating the missing girls' roomates and not two six-foot men dressed in suits.
dean's head turned as the creaky bathroom door opened. "I feel stupid."
his eyebrows raised to the tips of his forehead, a look of shock passing over him as he cleared his throat with a breathy laugh. "wait 'til sammy sees you." you just gave him a confused look before grabbing the pretty pink purse that sat on the bed. "aah-ah." you look up at dean confused. "kind of ruins the whole FBI vibe, don't you think?"
you eyed the purse in your hands.
it was a little bag, hardly able to hold anything other than your phone and your lipgloss, not that you ever had to worry about holding your wallet when you had the boys around but nonetheless, a card was wedged in there too.
it was pink with darker pink flowers on it and a ribbon attached to the strap. sam had gotten it for you after a case that you worked particularly hard on.
but dean was right, it didn't fit the whole 'FBI vibe' so you sighed and placed it back on the bed, passing the man an unhappy glance.
sam was outside, sitting in the passenger seat of the infamous impala named 'baby' by dean. he'd packed and started the car, waiting for the two of you when you caught his eye.
or should he say, your outfit.
you often wore pretty little sundresses or blouses and skirts paired together with a pretty cardigan drawn over you. but this? This seemed awfully different to your usual attire.
the white blouse was a little too low for comfort and he could tell by the way you were pulling it up over your cleavage that you agreed. your black pencil skirt was high, too high with a pair of long black stockings that stopped just above your knees paired with the infamous mary janes that you wore with almost everything.
sam was staring.
"what are you wearing?" was the first thing he asked when you and dean got into the car. "what is she wearing?" he turned back to dean.
you owned the stockings and the mary janes before hand but the rest of the outfit? it'd been dean's job to pick it out (which was no wonder you looked like... that.) "dude, she has to play the part."
"yeah of an FBI agent not some sexy stripper cop." sam spoke, exasperated.
"thank you!" you beamed from the back seat before your eyes furrowed. perhaps your boyfriend hadn't been complimenting you at all.
sam passed you a glance through the mirror but was more focused on blaming his brother. how could he let you go out looking like that for everyone to see? how could he make sam watch you while his pants tightened and his bulge was on show?
you thought the interviews went smoothly. you sat down with most of the women. the college women who's roomates had gone missing. dean was too busy fraternizing with the college girls to care about the case anymore and sam... well sam had seemed a little distracted from the beginning.
he couldn't rip his eyes away from you. you sat so perfectly, pieces of hair falling into your face as you nodded and sympathised with the women, asking them questions and jotting down notes onto a little notepad you had found in the backseat of baby.
sam was staring at you, at the way he could see the outline of your boobs down your shirt or the way your plush thighs protruded from the fabric of your stockings.
he was in awe.
it was hard to focus on anything other than you, which is why he had to excuse himself to talk to the headmaster instead of being stuck in a room with you, too close.
he was your boyfriend, it wasn't as if you hadn't done things with him before. on the contrary, you did... many things with sam before. but this was borderline unprofessional, the way he let his thoughts run.
he could imagine sliding his hands beneath your skirt or listening to your little gasps when he touched your skin, barely grazing it. you were so easily led like that, so audible and obedient. he could imagine unbuttoning your shirt slowly, with you sat on his lap while whines fell from your lips, whimpers following shortly after.
he needed to stop thinking.
or better yet, he needed to fuck you until the thoughts stopped.
dean decided he was going to check out the last spot that the college girl had been taken, assuring you both that he wouldn't be back before dinner. but the wink he shot his younger brother told him that he was merely giving you both alone time because he was no stranger to the look in sam's eyes.
and this was when sam got selfish.
honestly, the motel wasn't that far from the college so you and sam opted to walk back. the air turned brisk and for a split second, sam was about to offer you his jacket, the way he always would.
he thought it was rather adorable, watching the way you nuzzled into the jacket that was far too big for your frame. he was six foot five after all, you drowned in anything he let you wear.
but he found himself feeling selfish. he selfishly liked the way your perky breasts looked in that pretty blouse and the way your plush thighs could be seen peeking out from between the skirt and the stockings. he couldn't stop looking, couldn't tear his eyes away and stop his imagination from roaming.
so he let you walk back to the hotel, keeping a slight distance behind you so he could watch your body as he pleased, the only sound between you two being the click-clop of your mary jane heels as you walked home.
when you finally got inside, you felt yourself sigh in thought.
sam had been acting awfully quiet since you'd left and you'd begun to worry that you'd done something to upset him.
perhaps the outfit was too revealing, perhaps he wasn't okay with it.
you turned, an apology already on the tip of your lips. "sam―"
before you could utter the words, sam had grabbed you. his lips pushed into your own, a kiss filled with no passion or love, you could taste nothing aside from thick hunger, half a growl from inside his throat.
you whimpered into the kiss, taken by surprise. you felt him grab at you, one hand slid up your back, the other grabbing the back of your head and a fistful of hair along with it. again, a noise escaped you while sam was mindlessly kicking off his shoes, guiding you towards the bed.
to say you were surprised was saying the least, you hadn't expected this.
when he sat you gently against the bed, he finally broke the kiss. you looked up at him with glassy eyes and swollen lips while he tugged his suit jacket off, not bothering to take off his tie completely but only loosen it so it didn't hang so close to his neck. perhaps now he could finally breathe.
your eyes followed him curiously as he bent down, eyes never leaving yours while you stayed sitting on the mattress. you felt his hands pawing at your legs, slipping your mary janes from your feet. his hands gently rubbed at your sock-covered feet, a little reminder of his gentleness, despite the roughness he was suddenly using on you.
his fingers trailed upwards, following the little sewing thread between the fabric of your stockings. when his hands reached the top, he snapped the fabric back, leaving it snap against your thighs. "you're keeping these on." he uttered, he didn't sound like he normally did. he sounded as if he were pent up, desperate for relief. and he was.
you just couldn't seem to understand why.
"sam, why are you―"
you were cut off. "you're jus' so pretty all dressed up, honey." sam was towering over you as he stood, his large hand falling on your face, practically taking up a whole cheek as he cupped it. "'n i was hard all day thinkin' about this. you do wanna make me feel good, don't you, sweetheart?"
he watched as your eyes seemingly got rounder. "i wanna make you feel good, sammy." you caught your bottom lip between your top teeth and he could tell you were being honest, so honest.
willing to do anything to make him feel good, his sweet sweet girl. he would have cooed at you had he not been busy using his thumb to pull your bottom lip from beneath your top teeth. "don't do that, baby." he watched as you nodded silently. "good girl, i'll give you something to wrap those pretty lips around, don't worry."
he could see your face slowly building a flush, that kind of blush that had him reeling. he liked when he got you like this, all flustered and squirming. which you were, squirming in your seat with your thighs pushing together.
sam was well aware that if he were to reach up your skirt now, he would find a little wet circle sitting on your satin panties.
but instead, he used his hands to pull his own trousers from him. they were sitting tightly on his hips and when he finally pulled them down, you could see his bulge sticking out from his black boxers.
you gulped, hands playing together in your lap. you wanted to look back up at sam but you couldn't seem to tear your eyes away from him, too engrossed by his dick to think of anything else.
"'s how i felt all day, sweetheart." his voice was a whisper now. "you were teasin' me 'n i couldn't do anything about it. do you know how mean that is?"
your eyes snapped up to his, filling with this red glassiness. "w-what?" you didn't want to be mean to sam. he was so good to you, always making you feel good, you wanted nothing more than to be good to him. "'m sorry sammy, 'm really sorry."
"awh, i know, baby." his thumb swiped against your cheek, playing around with your face as if you were dough, thumb dragging across your bottom lip. "you just wanna be my good girl, yeah?"
you nodded quickly. "mmhm, wanna be your good girl, sammy, 'm sorry. 'm really sorry."
"i don't know, you were very bad today." his constant teasing as only making your panties wetter, that tone he was using on you, the one that he knew got you all flustered. "if i give you a second chance, are you gonna be good?"
"uh-huh, 'be so good, sammy, i promise. please, ill be good." you were begging now, eyes as big as saucers and lips wet.
he didn't bother pretending to think about it, he just leaned down, so far that his face was in line with yours, lips against your ear as he softly whispered the words, "then get onto your knee's 'n show me."
when sam winchester told you to do something, you did it, no questions asked.
you'd touched him like this many times before, you on your hands and knees on the mattress while he stood on the ground. he thought it was the most comfortable spot for the both of you, seeing as he was so big.
you did as you were told, moving so you were on your hands and knees against the mattress. your hands moved up to his waist, eyes snapping to his. he watched you intently as you brought your lips to his clothed cock, pressing a pretty kiss against it before using your fingers to pull down his underwear.
you did it without fail every single time.
every time he had you on your knees with his cock in your mouth, you started off with that pretty kiss to his boxers. there was something sickly sweet about it that had his eyes already rolling backwards. it was almost an innocent and naive act of love towards him, laced with lust.
you were on just your knees now, pushing his boxers down with no help from him. his dick sprung free and you could see an idle line of precum dripping down his shaft. instinctively, your hand moved up, thumb swiping the precum and smoothing it over the head of his dick. the act alone caused a grunt to leave his lips.
as pretty as you looked, all curious and ready to take your time, sam simply wasn't having it tonight.
he was too pent up from your silly outfit and his own mindless thoughts that he couldn't help it.
his hand fell to the side of your head, cupping it as he guided it forward. you knew what he was asking and you wasted no time in sticking out your tongue and licking a kitten lick up his shaft.
"fuck," fell from his lips. "good girl." mumbling as your tongue swirled over his head and your mouth wrapped around his dick. sam was a huge man and his dick was no exception to that. he was huge, too big to fit in your mouth but you pushed him in anyway, only covering a little more than half.
sam knew he was big too, he couldn't help the quirk of his lips as he looked down at you, struggling to fit his size into your mouth. his hand slowly guided your head further onto his cock, letting your lips wrap around him completely, your saliva coating him. it wasn't until you gagged that he knew this was as far as you could go.
so he pushed you a little further, anyway.
you brought your head back out then in again, bobbing it as you tongue swirled against him. you were no stranger to sucking sam off but every time you did it, you found yourself getting nervous. you wanted to be good for him and you were doing your upmost best.
his pretty thing.
"fuck, baby, you're doin' so good f'me." and sam knew exactly what effect his words would have on you. "mmph, look so pretty with your lips around my dick, sweetheart."
you couldn't help but moan on his dick.
and his lips quirked into that sickly sweet smile.
he knew how easily you got wet, how all it took was just a few words and you were a moaning, whining mess. sam thought you deserved a little more for all you were giving him than just a little praise.
and like said before, sam was huge so he reached over, his torso towering a little above your head and his arm reached out, soothing down your lower back.
this wasn't the first time sam had pulled something like this. you knew what to do, stomach sinking onto the bed as you rolled your ass into nothingness, wanting to create some kind of friction while your mouth continued to slowly melt around him, licking and sucking, eyes closed as one hand pumped the part of his dick that your mouth couldn't reach.
you felt his fingers tracing the outline of your satin underwear, pulling up your skirt so he could gain access.
you made a noise of complaint, knowing that if he touched you, you wouldn't be able to focus properly on touching him. sam only used his free hand to push your head onto his dick and make you gag again.
he liked watching you fall apart, especially with his dick stuffed in your mouth.
he loved watching the way your body had to bend for him to be able to stick his fingers into your gaping whole, watching as you desperately rolled your hips, wanting him him him. you wanted to feel him. taste him. smell him. he was all consuming, you wanted him to take over your every sense.
and he always did, without complaint.
you were wet, undeniably so, he could feel it through the satin material that he pulled back, getting access to your aching pussy. "there you go, sweetheart, tha's it." while easing two fingers into your hole.
you felt like a slut.
he had you completely and utterly full.
"'s that nice, baby? y'feel so warm." both with your mouth against his dick and your soaking wet hole. "you're so pretty for me, you know that, angel?"
he knew you couldn't respond, only whining and whimpering against his throbbing cock. "you're my good girl, aren't you?" he felt you whine, vibrations spreading through him and he also felt your pussy squeeze against his fingers. he grinned at that. "you like that, honey? like thinkin' about how you're my good girl, yeah? all mine, baby, you're all mine."
and you really were. before sam, you wouldn't look at a boy sideways let alone be like this.
you groaned into him, ass rolling against his fingers while your own free hand moved down. you continued sucking his dick while using your nimble fingers to play with your clit.
and that was enough for sam to let out a moan. "oh, baby, you look so pretty playing with yourself while―shit―sucking my cock."
your eyes rolled back, feeling of pleasure coating you while your soft lips bobbed up and down, fingers tracing him and yourself.
"'m gonna cum, sweetheart." a warning, though he knew you wouldn't move anyway. "you gonna be a good girl 'n cum on my fingers while you suck my cock, huh, baby?"
he felt you absentmindedly nod, too fucked out to think straight while feeling a familiar knot deep in your stomach.
your whines got louder and he felt himself nearing the edge. the sight of you, blissed out while sucking his cock, his fingers stuffed into your hole making you feel all full... he couldn't help but let go.
at the same time, he felt your gummy walls clenching around his fingers, wet juices sliding down his hand while spurts of squirt left your pussy every time his fingers pumped in and out of you, riding out your high.
"good girl, good girl. that's it, baby. oh fuck. yeah, my good girl. there you go." he was in awe, watching you squirt around his fingers, the wet feeling as it spurted out from your pussy, decorating the bedsheets in your juices while your pretty socks got ruined in the mess.
when he finally finished, he pulled his fingers out of you, letting you lean back as you parted your lips to show him his cum all over your tongue, spread messily in your mouth.
his hand was on your face, eyes strained on your mouth as he watched you close your lips and swallow like the good girl you were, swiping his thumb against your bottom lip.
he pushed his two fingers into your mouth, letting you taste yourself. while your eyes rolled back, all fucked out and dumb.
"think we have some time before dean gets back, yeah?" eyes already scanning your body and letting his imagination get the better of him.
he just watched your blissed out face nod, cheeks flushed. "mmhm hmph."
he wasn't done with you just yet.
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zepskies · 28 days ago
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Wake Up Call
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Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader
Summary: Sam often gets up before you in the morning. He enjoys luring you into the waking world. 
AN: Surprise! After writing Rest for Dean, equal parts hurt/comfort and fluff, I’ve been itching to do some “early morning” fluff for Sam…
Word Count: 700
Warnings: 18+ only for smuttishness. Fluff and feels.
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Unlike Dean, Sam isn’t one to be sentimental.
It doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. On the contrary, he hordes and treasures memories in his mind, rather than on his shelves.
It also means he’s not one to collect things just to have them. There has to be a practical use, like the way good books can be read again. Even his dad’s journal is a useful resource, not just a record of the man’s most significant words, and in some ways, his legacy.
Sam’s room is function, not fluff.
That is, until you invaded.
Well, less invaded, and more invited, but still. He sees traces of you everywhere, in the half-drunken mugs of coffee and tea piling up across his nightstand; in the shelves you’ve put up to showcase his books, alongside yours (complete with “cute” little bookends you found at a flea market in town); and in the extra fuzzy blankets and smaller pillows you’ve bought, not only because they’re comfortable, but because they help “pull the room together,” in your words.
Sam had to snort at that one. Somehow, he doesn’t think a few decorative pillows and a lamp from Goodwill are going to make a windowless bedroom in a bunker look like a page out of a Pottery Barn catalog.
But he humored you then, with the same smile he looks down on you with now. It's early in the morning as he sits up beside you in bed with his coffee. He has a fresh mug ready for you on the nightstand. (He's also brought the army of old ones back to the kitchen sink.)
He spares a moment from his laptop to brush your hair away from your cheek as you sleep. His hand drifts down your bare shoulder, as far as he can reach down your arm. Finally, his touch stirs you. Your breathing shifts with a little hum as you creep closer to wakefulness.  
“Awake already?” you grumble at him.
“Yeah. Waiting for you.”
“Hnnmmmmm.”
Sam smiles. You can be so grumpy in the morning.
He takes another sip of his coffee and sets aside his mug and his laptop. He gets up just to raise his side of the blankets, sliding back in and slotting himself behind you. You sigh after his arm has slipped beneath your head, and the other around your waist, pulling you comfortably warm against his chest.
He issues his first plan of attack, laying soft kisses behind your ear, along your jaw. Even with your eyes closed, you smile as his long hair tickles your cheek. He pays special attention to your pulse point, nipping and sucking gently. A shiver tingles down your spine.
“No fair,” you breathe out, reaching back a hand to card through his hair. Your fingers tangle in the dark strands as he smiles against your skin.
He continues his tantalizing path down your neck. His hand moves under the sheets, under your borrowed sleep shirt. His thumb brushes the underside of your breast, earning a pleased hum from you. It encourages him to palm the round softness with his big hand, pebbling the nipple under his nimble, rolling fingers.
Uttering a soft whine, you begin to subtly writhe against him. Your ass presses back into him, accidentally-on-purpose. His arousal rises to meet you, a low-burning fire crackling to life.
Sam’s kisses become more insistent with the brush of his tongue against your skin. His hand moves from playing with your breast, down the soft length of your body. Every move is a form of delicious persuasion, especially when his fingers slip under the waistband of your panties.   
“You awake yet?” Sam teases, his lips moving against your cheek.
Your smile grows. You finally open your eyes and tangle your leg with his under the covers.
“If I’m not, this is one hell of a dream,” comes your cheeky reply.
Sam chuckles. His fingers dip between your legs, into your wet heat. You suck in a breath.
His voice in your ear is enough to raise the hair on your arms.
“Baby, we haven’t even started yet.”
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AN: 😘 Hope you enjoy! I haven't written Sam in a while, but I do love him too. 💜
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Sam Winchester Tag List
@kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @thebiggerbear
@roseblue373 @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87
@this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @emily-winchester
@kmc1989 @siampie @hobby27 @malindacath @ladykitana90
@just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @lacilou @deans-daydream
@adoringanakin @sanscas @kaleldobrev @angelbabyyy99 @jackles010378
@chriszgirl92 @gabavaldman @twinkleinadiamondsky @mxltifxnd0m @bleuatlas
@grilledcheeseandtomato @ladysparkles78 @deadlydivergentgirl @fanficwriter5 @mistressofallthingsgeeky
@iloveyou2mia @deadlymistletoe @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @whimsicalcherry @valerinapetrova
@samslvrgirl @rubyvhs @chevroletdean @winchestergirl2 @cheynovak
@jc-winchester @stoneyggirl2 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @daisychaingirl @number1whorehome
@g0ldfishd00dles @10ava01 @sixxteenbullets @tayl0rfanatic @trashmoutth
@spnaquakindgdom
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taylormarieee · 1 year ago
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Wanna make out in the backseat of my brothers car? Sam Winchester
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Summary: You and Sam planned on just making out but what happens when it leads to more...
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 932
Warnings: PiV sex, Clit rubbing, sensitivity, overstimulation, Kissing, hair pulling kink, praise kink, Sam being an absolute slut, established relationship, Car sex, Dom!Reader, Switch!Sam, Creampie
A/N: Strictly written for my wife @dollyfl1rt for you babygirl
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You have been dating Sam Winchester ever since his last girlfriend died. You took it slow and let him grieve.
You two were like peas in a pod. Always together, laughing, hunting. It was always hard to go on dates considering the circumstances of a Supernatural crime happening all over the world.
Demons, shapeshifters, wendigos, and vampires. It was so much for you yet so exciting and exhilerating.
Tonight you and Sam went out for a little night drive in Deans car. You had to negotiate a plan with him.
Granted it took like two hours of begging, you made him crack. Now here you two were sitting on a hill in front of the city.
"God, it's so pretty, don't ya think Sammy?" You ask, staring and admiring the stars.
"Yea, it is. But not as pretty as you" He says with a shit eating grin on his cute features.
"You are so corny you know that." You say laughing in between sentences.
"Yea, I know." He says laughing with you as he rubs your thigh. "One of the many things I like about you." You compliment.
"He smirks and turns his head towards you shuffling his hand higher up your thigh.
"What other things do you like about me?" He asks. You turn to him and smile.
"I love your hair and how soft it is, I love your face, I love your jawline, and I love your lips and how soft they a-are."
You notice him getting closer and his hand going higher until there under your mini skirt.
His face gets closer until your noses are touching. "You wanna feel how soft they are?" He whispers to you.
He watches you squirm in your seat and you whimper. You frantically nod your head and he grabs your neck and smashes his lips on yours.
You moan in to the kiss and he stars rubbing your clit through your panties. You squirm and whimper at his warm touch on your soaking wet pussy.
"Y-You like that baby?" He whispers into your mouth. You nod and whimper out a 'yes'.
He loved watching you squirm whenever he touched you like this. All in your areas and making you all hot and flustered.
"Sam please, please I need you." You moan out, "I can't sweets, it's my brothers car, He'll kill us."
"Sam I don't really care, we won't have another time. Please Sammy.”
He stares at your glossy eyes and finally gives in. “Ok but this is the first and last time baby, we say nothing to him.”
You nod your head frantically as a silent promise and he grabs your hips dragging you over to him.
You grab his face once your settled on his lap and he reclines the seat as you place your soft lips on his.
He is the one to moan into the kiss now. You begin to grind on him in a slow motion and he groans squeezing the flesh at your hip.
You take of your shirt leaving you in your black bra. He skillfully slides his cold hands to your back and in clips your bra.
You tough on Sam’s hair and he moans. You keep tugging on his hair and he continues to moan out grasping your ass.
You start to grind faster on the rough denim of his jeans. You tug on the hem of his shirt so he could take it off.
He takes his shirt off and unbuckles his jeans and pulls the down far enough to let out his cock.
His boxers are being tugged off by you and you both are rushing so eager to touch and feel each other.
You pump his cock and Sam let’s out the sluttiest moan known to man.
You moan as you slide down on his length. He fills you up so nice.
You begin to bounce on his cock, your breast bouncing all in Sam’s face.
He begins playing with your tits and throws his head back when you roll your hips in a type of way.
“Fuck you feel so good! You fill me up so nice Sammy.” You whimper out.
“You gonna cum inside me Sammy? Please cum all inside me sam.” You whimper out.
“Shit. Holy~f-fuck, I’m gonna cum baby.” He moans out. You roll your hips, grinding on him nice and fast.
You bounce on him non-stop until you feel his cock twitch inside of you.
You feel him shoot his warm seed inside of you nice and deep inside your velvety walls.
“oh f-fuck baby.” He moans out. You continue to bounce on him after his orgasm not letting up and he begins to squirm.
“baby! Ahh~ it’s t-to much!” He whimpers out. You roll your hips on him and finally stop.
He then begins to ram into your tight pussy from below you.
“Cum for me now baby! Come one you can do it sweetheart. So wet for me.”
You whine at his praise and hide your head in his neck and whine incoherent nonsense.
You chant Sam’s name like a prayer. You feel your orgasm approaching and he chuckles.
“Let go mama, let go all on my cock.” He whispers. You moan his name and cum all on his cock.
You shake at the feeling of your pleasure coursing through you.
When you finally catch your breath you look around and notice deans car windows are all fogged up.
“Remember baby, not a word about this, okay?” He asks once again.
“Yea. Yea I know.” You say smiling before kissing him once again.
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Taglist: @itzdarling @dollyfl1rt
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figthoughts · 2 months ago
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i need some aftercare with sam!! like after a rough fuck he cleans her up and cuddles her, maybe runs her a bath?? something like that
ahhhh, i’ve never written for sam before but this was such a cute lil idea!! i hope you enjoy <3
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*ೃ༄ 18+
the mattress squeaks as sam slumps down next you, his body slick with sweat and his lungs pulling in deep breaths as he tries to steady his breathing, “you alright, baby?”
he turns to you with his heavy-lidded eyes, awaiting your response, watching the little tears roll down your cheeks.
you muster up the energy to return his gaze, his eyes softening slightly as you speak, “yeah, sammy. m’alright.”
“happy tears?” he asks, gently wiping away the few tears with his thumb, his eyes searching yours.
you nod softly against the sheets, too tired to bother speaking. you feel the need to move closer to him, so you do, your fucked out body shaking a little as you find your place in his arms.
“that’s good, my angel. you did so well for me, you know? took me so well,” he praises quietly in your ear as his arms wrap around you, pulling you snug against his chest.
you hum in response and bury your head into his neck, searching for comfort as your warm salty tears wet his skin.
you lay together silently, your flushed sweaty bodies tangled with one another. sam rubs his hand up ‘n down your arm absent-mindedly trying to soothe you in your overwhelmed state.
“you want me to clean you up, baby?” sam asks, breaking the silence after a few moments, gently brushing some of your hair back that’s stuck against your sweaty forehead.
you hum again and nod, “yes, please.”
sam begins to pull away and get up, but your arms grab ahold of his shoulders. he looks down at you with a slightly concerned expression.
“wait,” you say quietly, “can you— umm— run me a bath, sammy? m’just a little sore.”
sam frowns at your soft confession, “yeah, of course, baby, i can do that. i— uhh… i didn’t hurt you, did i?” his widened eyes search yours, desperately needing reassurance that you’re alright, that he didn’t hurt you.
you shake your head, lifting it to meet his gaze head-on, “no, not like that. just… sensitive. and maybe a little sore from your grip… like on my hips and stuff, but i’m okay. i promise.”
he nods, the tightness in his chest fading at your soft-spoken words. he pulls himself up off the bed and he looks down at your exhausted body, “okay… cause i want you to tell me if i go too far. i want you to always tell me, okay?”
“okay.” you reply simply, the expression on your face and the look in your eye speaking more than words ever could.
he lets a smile grow on his face, “good. okay, bath time. i’ll be right back, my sweet girl.”
he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead with that dopey little smile on his face. you watch him disappear into the bathroom, followed by the sound of splashing water filling the tub.
sam returns a moment later, the smile still on his face as he takes in your state on the bed; your body all spread out, still twitching slightly with his seed dripping out between your legs. he thinks you look beautiful. heavenly even.
“mm’kay, can you walk or do you want me to carry you in?” sam tilts his head, a cheeky soft smile dancing on his lips.
you manage to pull yourself up into a sitting position, your eyes locked onto his, “can you carry me? i don’t want to walk.”
a huff of a laugh escapes sam’s mouth as he walks over to the edge of the bed, “oh, you don’t want to walk, huh?” he asks incredulously and scoops you up into his arms, “well, it’s a lucky thing i’m here then. your big strong boyfriend can carry you.”
his joking tone paired with his big strong arms wrapped around you forces a tired, yet amused, smile onto your face, “yeah, lucky me.”
he shakes his head and chuckles as he carries you bridal style into the bathroom, setting you down on the edge of the bath.
you watch as sam dips his hand into the water, testing the temperature, “hmm, alright. nice ‘n warm for you. another minute and it’ll be full, okay?”
you nod in response, watching sam grab a small hand towel, rinsing it under the sink. he turns to you, “okay, baby. let me clean you up a little. i made a mess of you, huh, pretty girl?”
he kneels in front of you, his big hands coaxing your thighs apart as you watch him, tilting your head at the sweet boy in front of you.
sam gently wipes the warm wet cloth between your thighs, cleaning up the sticky mess of your arousal and his cum. he’s so gentle, his eyes flickering up to meet yours, almost as if he’s making sure you’re still alright.
“there we go,” he hums with a smile and pulls back, looking you over, “all done, baby.”
“thank you,” you manage to mutter out as he throws the towel into the sink without a care.
“s’no worries, sweetheart. i did that to you, it’s only fair i clean you up, huh?” he grins at you, before leaning over and turning the water off.
“alright, can you hop in yourself or do you want your big strong boyfriend to help you again?” he asks playfully with that grin.
“i can do it, sammy,” you chuckle out breathily, sliding yourself into the water. you let out a deep sigh of relief as you’re enveloped in the warmth of the water.
sam smiles, tilting his head like a puppy as he watches you instantly relax, “good?”
you nod up at him, “good. thank you, sam.”
he shakes his head dismissively, “s’the least i can do for my pretty baby.”
your cheeks heat up a little at his sweet words, your fingers tapping at the surface of the water.
“do you want to hop in too?” you ask after a moment, your tired eyes looking into his.
“yeah, i do. i really do,” he chuckles and slides into the tub behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you back against his chest.
“mmm, i love you, my pretty girl,” he coos softly into your ear, his lips brushing against it.
you can’t help the smile from spreading across your face, “i love you too, my sweet boy.”
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A/N: ahhh first time writing sammy!! i’m not a sam girly but this was fun, i do love him <333
requests are open! (give me a little time, i have a few to get to ahhh!) feedback is encouraged!
reblogs support me ‘n my writing! <3
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Text
Request: I love your writing! Can you have the reader hallucinating and hurt either sam and Dean in the process. You’re so good, I’m sure you can figure it out from there. Thanks!
A/N: OMG Thank you! Okay I actually LOVE this request it was sooo good. I hope you love it:)) Requests are still open please flood me with them I don’t mind! I love reading all the different ideas!
The motel room was too quiet. It had been hours since the hunt, and yet, I could still feel the blood on my skin. The screams... they echoed in my mind like a constant, unrelenting wave. I could still hear her voice, shrill and desperate, her cries filling my ears as she bled out in front of me. I tried to push it down, bury it deep in my chest, but the memories only seemed to intensify the more I fought them.
I was alone in the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, shaking. The air felt thick, suffocating. It was hard to breathe, and every time I tried, my chest felt tighter, as though the walls were closing in. My hands were trembling, and I could feel my heart pounding in my throat. My head felt foggy, like I wasn’t fully here. Like I was there—back in that house.
The blood. The bodies. The screams.
I reached out for the knife on the table. It was a simple thing—a hunting knife, sharp and deadly, like the dozens I’d used before. But tonight, it felt different. In my hands, it felt like I had control. The weight of it was comforting, a way to push back against the madness that was threatening to swallow me whole.
I didn’t hear the door creak open, but I felt the presence in the room before I saw it.
"Y/N?" Sam’s voice called softly, but it was enough to break through my fog. I could hear the concern in his tone, but it felt like it was coming from miles away.
I froze.
The knife was in my hand now, and I wasn’t sure when I’d grabbed it, but it felt too heavy, too real, like it could slice through the noise in my head. Sam was closer now, and I could hear his footsteps, slow, careful, like he was trying not to startle me.
But I wasn’t seeing Sam.
I was seeing her. The woman. The blood. The terror. And in my mind, I was back there, standing in the room, covered in blood, surrounded by bodies.
My breath quickened, a frantic rush of air, and my grip on the knife tightened. It was a reflex, like my body was moving without my permission. The blade felt sharp, dangerous.
"Y/N, sweetheart," Sam's voice was softer now, almost pleading. "Put the knife down. You’re not there. You’re with us. You're safe."
Safe? I wasn’t safe. She wasn’t safe. I couldn’t hear him. I couldn’t see him. All I saw was her, and the blood. So much blood.
The knife gleamed in the dim light, and I took a step back, my eyes wide, terrified. My chest heaved with frantic breaths as I took another step back.
"I’m not... I’m not going to let them do it again," I whispered to myself, my voice trembling. My mind was screaming at me to stop, but I couldn't hear it. All I heard was the sound of her voice in my head, screaming as she died. "I won’t let them do it again."
"Y/N!" Dean's voice broke through the fog, low and commanding. "Drop the knife. Now."
I barely recognized his voice through the madness. It felt distant, warped, like he wasn’t really here.
I didn’t want to hurt them. I didn’t. But the knife... it was mine. It was the only thing that made sense right now.
I could see it. I could see her—her blood, her body. And I was still standing there. Still hearing it. Still feeling it.
“Y/N,” Sam said again, taking another slow step forward. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re not in that room. We’ve got you. Please. Drop the knife.”
I shook my head, my breath coming faster. The world around me seemed to blur, everything spinning. The blood, the screams, the weight of the knife—it was too much. Too overwhelming.
And then I saw him—Sam, standing there, too close. My instincts screamed that it was still the danger, still the threat. Still the monster.
I raised the knife without thinking. I didn't want to hurt him. I couldn’t hurt him, but I wasn’t myself right now. I didn’t know what was real.
"Get back!" I screamed, my voice breaking with the effort, the knife shaking in my hand. “Get away!”
I could feel myself trembling, my vision starting to blur, but I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t think. The blood. The screams. The bodies. My body moved, too fast, too frantically.
In a desperate attempt to calm me down, Sam stepped forward too quickly, trying to grab my arm, to stop me. I swung. The knife came down in a swoop, cutting his wrist.
Sam let out a sharp gasp, his body jerking back. My heart stopped.
I blinked, the fog in my mind starting to clear just enough to see Sam’s face, pale, his eyes wide with shock. My arm dropped instinctively, and the knife fell to the floor with a clatter. The room spun, the walls closing in around me, suffocating me in a dizzying blur of light and dark. I wasn’t here. I wasn’t me. The room was too bright, too hot. My skin felt like it was crawling.
Sam.
I saw him. Sam’s face. His wrist. The blood seeping from him. I hurt him. I hurt Sam. I had hurt him.
“Shit.” Dean’s voice was low, filled with panic. "Sam—Sam, are you okay?" He asked, without looking away from you.
Sam didn’t answer at first, his eyes were also locked on me. I could see the blood seeping from his arm. I was frozen, my body shaking uncontrollably, my heart pounding in my ears.
“I didn’t—” I gasped, my voice breaking. “Sam, I didn’t—oh my god, I didn’t mean to—”
Before I could say anything else, I felt hands on my shoulders, pulling me into a tight embrace. Dean was there, his grip like a lifeline. "It's okay, Y/N. It’s alright. It’s gonna be alright. You’re okay."
“No... no, no, no, no...” My voice was barely a whisper, but it felt like it was echoing in my skull. I couldn’t breathe, my chest so tight it felt like someone was standing on me. I gasped and pushed away from Dean’s embrace.
What did I do?
I looked at Sam, standing there, clutching his wrist, his face pale. His eyes... they weren’t angry. They were wide, filled with pain and confusion. But they weren’t angry.
What did I do?
My heart pounded in my ears, the world around me blurring into flashes of color, flashes of light, and then... blood. Blood. The blood, the screams, the terror, the noise. It came crashing back like an unstoppable wave, flooding my senses.
I staggered backward, my hands shaking, my knees weak beneath me. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t stop the overwhelming panic that clawed at my throat. The walls of the room felt like they were pressing in on me, suffocating me. The floor beneath me tilted, the room spinning faster and faster.
“Y/N,” Dean’s voice cut through the haze, rough and sharp. “Y/N, listen to me. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
I could hear him. I could see him. But it was like their voices were coming from miles away. Like I was floating outside my own body, watching everything through a thick fog.
But I couldn’t think. I couldn’t feel. All I could hear was her scream. The woman. The blood. The darkness.
What did I do? What did I do?
I raised my hands to my head, clutching at my hair, pulling at it like it could stop the noise. The pain. The panic.
“No, no, no... what did I do? What did I—” I gasped, my voice shaking with a terror I couldn’t control.
“Y/N, please—” Sam’s voice broke through, but I couldn’t hear him, couldn’t understand him.
“No, no, no, I hurt him... I hurt him...” I sobbed, my breath coming in sharp, painful gasps. Tears blurred my vision as I looked at Sam, his hand still pressed against his bleeding wrist. "I didn’t mean to... Sam, I’m so sorry—"
“Shh, it’s okay. It’s alright, sweetheart. You didn’t mean it. You’re not yourself right now,” Dean said, his voice shaking with emotion. “You’re okay. You’re safe. We’ve got you.”
But I couldn’t stop crying. I couldn’t stop shaking. Sam, despite the obvious pain, managed a weak smile.
“It’s okay, bug.” He said with more understanding than he should have. But, the way I’d lost control—it shattered something in me. And the guilt, the overwhelming guilt of what I had done to him, was more than I could bear. I couldn't stay here. Not here. Not with them. Not with the blood. Not with the screams. I needed to run. I needed to get away. Away from the walls. Away from the pain.
I turned, almost stumbling, my feet barely finding purchase on the floor. My breath was ragged, my chest tight as I stumbled toward the door.
“Y/N!” Dean’s voice was frantic now, but I couldn’t listen. I couldn’t hear. It was too much. Everything was too much.
The only thing that mattered was getting away.
I yanked the door open and staggered out into the night, the cold air biting at my skin. My legs moved without thought, my body pushing forward like it had no control. I wasn’t thinking about where I was going. I wasn’t thinking about anything. All I could hear were the screams, the blood, the terror.
I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop them.
“Y/N!” Sam’s voice was desperate now, his heavy footsteps following behind me, but I couldn’t stop. I had to keep running. Keep moving.
I could feel my body starting to tremble uncontrollably, my heart pounding faster and faster with each step. The ground beneath me felt unsteady, my vision swimming, but I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop myself.
I didn’t want to hurt them. God, I didn’t want to hurt them.
But I had. I had hurt Sam. And I was a monster.
The sound of my name broke through the fog again, but this time, it was Dean’s voice, low and panicked, coming from just behind me. His steps were faster now, his urgency matching mine.
“Y/N! Stop! Please! Stop!”
I didn’t. I couldn’t.
I felt a hand grasp my arm, pulling me back.
“No!” I screamed, thrashing against the grip, panic flooding through me as I jerked away. “Let me go! Let me go! I can’t—don’t touch me!”
But Dean’s grip tightened, pulling me into him, his arms wrapping around me, holding me close as I fought. His voice was soft but desperate. “Kiddo, please... I’m not gonna hurt you. We’re not gonna hurt you. You’re safe. You’re with us. You’re okay.”
I kept struggling, my body shaking violently, my heart pounding so loud in my chest it felt like it was going to burst. “No! No, no, no! What did I do? What did I do?!”
“Shh, baby. You didn’t do anything,” Dean whispered, his voice shaking as he tightened his grip around me. “You’re okay. You didn’t hurt him. You didn’t hurt anybody.”
“I... I hurt Sam,” I whispered, the words breaking out in gasps. “I hurt him...”
Sam appeared in front of me, his face pale but calm, his eyes searching mine with a kind of understanding that made everything inside me shatter. “Y/N,” he said softly, kneeling down in front of me, his hand resting gently on my cheek. “Look at me, sweetheart. Look at me.”
I could barely focus, my vision swimming, my body trembling so hard I could barely stand. But his eyes were there. They were familiar. They were safe.
“You didn’t hurt me,” Sam said, his voice low but firm. “It was an accident. You weren’t yourself, Y/N. You’re not a monster. You’re not a danger to us. We love you. You’re our sister. You’re okay.”
But I couldn’t stop shaking. I couldn’t stop crying. I felt so lost. So broken.
“Everything’s okay, sweetheart,” Dean whispered, his hands now gently pulling me into him. “We’ve got you. You’re not alone. We’re here. You’re safe.”
But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. The blood. The screams. The terror.
I couldn’t stop feeling it. I couldn’t stop hearing it.
And all I could do was cry.
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ohsc · 5 months ago
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₊˚⊹♡ letting you | sam winchester x reader
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a/n - this might be the fastest i’ve ever written a fic??? it’s pure filth so that might be why but LMAO, i love love love the idea of soft dom sam sm he melts my brain, hopefully this is good!! getting back into writing after taking a break from being sick bc my brain wouldn’t work. special thanks to my friend who helped me brainstorm the delicious idea ilysm !! <3
cws - fem!reader, 1.6k, nsfw 18+, softdom!sam, sub!reader, cockwarming, masturbation, praise, kinda unedited
other fics can be found on my masterlist
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
The only thing she could hear was Sam’s soft breathing, and the soft tap tap tap of his laptop keys behind her.
If she paid close enough attention, she could hear the way his shirt rustled when he moved his arms, the soft fluttering of book pages being turned, but her focus wasn’t really attainable, it was slipping through her fingers with each excruciating moment that she was sat there.
Sam shifted in his seat out of a pure intention to get comfortable, and his cock nudged deeper inside of her wet heat, dragged a soft gasp from her lips, which just earned her a soft “shh, honey” against the shell of her ear.
It had been her fault that she was in that position in the first place. She’d been a little too needy with Sam when he was trying to research, and on her third attempt at trying to initiate a — much needed, mind you — make out, he’d grabbed her hips and tugged her into his lap facing him. His voice had been a little stern as he told her to pull his cock out, and the tone of his voice alone had her cunt clenching around nothing as she quickly did as she’d been asked. She knew that voice, she’d had it in her ear most nights, whispered against her throat, against the plush of her thighs. It meant he was in control.
Sam had sat back from the library's table for enough time for her to pull his cock out and pull aside her panties, sank down onto him with a soft moan, but before she could move he grabbed her hips tightly, kept her still.
“Don’t move,” he’d dipped his head down and kissed her throat, pulse fluttering beneath his lips. “Stay there while I finish up and I’ll take care of you after, hm?”
If she was feeling a bit more bratty she would’ve whined or complained or just moved anyways, but his voice in her ear and his hands on her hips had her head spinning, so she just nodded and tucked her head against his throat as he leaned over her to continue what he was doing, completely focused, as if he wasn’t buried deep inside her pussy at that moment.
That had been twenty minutes ago.
It was becoming torturous.
Sam was unfairly skilled at keeping composed. He was also unfairly skilled at winding her up. Those two went hand in hand, it seemed, because each second that passed just worked her up more and more. All she could focus on was the warmth of his body pressed to hers, his cock nestled deep inside of her, the lack of stimulation. When she’d came out to the library with her attempt at bothering him, she’d craved a genuine release, not this.
Her hips shifted slightly and she squeezed her eyes shut, huffed out a soft “Sammy” against his throat when that slight movement was enough for her pussy to throb around him.
“Stay still.” He murmured without as much of a look in her direction. She glanced up at him and his eyes were locked forwards, pupils shifting left to right as he read whatever was displayed on his laptop screen. Tap tap tap, more pages turned, more reading, rinse, repeat. He was killing her.
Barely a minute had passed before she made another soft sound against the warm skin of his throat, lips brushing his neck, “Baby please-”
“My hands are busy, sweetheart,” his voice was so nonchalant it drove her up the wall. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”
Her eyes squeezed shut as she huffed against his throat again. “Can you just take a break?”
“No,” he shook his head. “No, I’m almost done, you’ll just have to wait,” he tsked, a hand briefly pet her hair, the touch so light it was like he was purposely depriving her of any stimulation. “If you’re that needy, you have two hands of your own, baby. Sort yourself out until I’m finished with this.”
She released a shuddered breath against his throat, squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. It wasn’t the answer she’d wanted.
“Hey,” one of his hands came up to the side of her neck and he pressed his thumb against her jaw, tilted her head back until he could meet her eyes. “I told you I’d sort you out once I finished, didn’t I?”
She nodded, bit the inside of her cheek.
“So isn’t it nice of me that I’m letting you get yourself off in the meantime?”
Letting you. Her cunt throbbed again.
“Yeah.” She whispered.
Sam leaned down and kissed her, just a soft little peck, and somehow it just riled her up more. “I’ll be done soon. Go ahead and sort yourself out for me, sweetheart.”
He let go of her jaw and moved his arms to the table again, continued tapping at his laptop, and her eyes scrunched closed again as she tipped forward and rested her forehead against his throat. But she was so needy that she didn’t think twice about following his instructions. One hand stayed tucked at his waist, fingers curled into the soft material of his flannel, and her other reached between them and tucked under the material of her shirt, fingering at the waistband of her panties until she slipped beneath those too, and she was so fucking wet that she was undoubtedly making a mess of his jeans from just sitting there.
Her fingers dipped down, pressed against her clit, and she shuddered as the stimulation made her clench around his cock deliciously. She pressed her fingers forwards again, started to shamelessly rub herself, exhaled soft little moans and sighs against his throat.
Before she could do anything else Sam’s voice was in her ear again, “Quiet, sweetheart. You’re meant to be letting me work, don’t make me tell you to stop.”
Her jaw clenched as she exhaled shakily, eyes squeezed shut, and she huffed a breath against his throat as she took a moment to compose herself. Now that she’d started touching herself, it’d just be a torture to stop, so she just nodded against his throat with the intent to keep herself quiet.
It took a moment for her to settle on a pace. She was a bit too needy with it, her hand squished between their bodies, knuckles pressed to his hard muscles each time she shifted her hand, but eventually she settled into a pace that had her eyes rolled back and squeezed shut, the fingers of her other hand curled tightly into the material of his flannel.
She circled her clit with the pads of her fingers again and again, but it was the feeling inside of her every time her cunt clenched around his cock that made it hard for her to keep quiet. She was half tempted to bite down on his collar to shut herself up, but Sam seemed to be letting her get away with the slight gasps and whimpers that she couldn’t stop herself letting up.
It took an embarrassingly short time for her to get close — her forehead was pressed to his throat, hot breaths puffed out against his skin, trying not to shift her hips as she rubbed at her clit with a need that thrummed within her veins. Her jaw clenched and she held her breath, eyes squeezed shut tighter as she worked herself closer.
“Breathe,” Sam’s breath tickled her ear as he spoke softly. She had a tendency to hold her breath when she came sometimes if she was especially worked up — she didn’t even know Sam was paying attention. She took a shuddery breath, and he murmured a soft, “that’s it.”
It only took a few more circles on her clit before she came and she grit her teeth, huffed out a sharp breath through her nose as the feeling washed over her. Her cunt pulsed in pleasure, waves that kept her rubbing at her clit until it felt too much, and when she finally stopped she was breathing sharply against his neck. Her hand was a bit cramped, fingers wet, heartbeat drumming, but the release felt so nice after she’d been so worked up.
“Good girl,” Sam crooned, and she could’ve cum again at the tone of his voice. “Good girl. Did that help?”
She nodded against his throat, relaxed into his front.
“Yeah?” He asked. “Are you gonna keep still until I’m finished now?”
She nodded again.
“Baby,” she felt his hand smooth up her back until his fingers delicately tangled in her hair, only enough to pull her head back to look at him. “I wanna hear you say it.”
She blinked a few times up at him. He was so devastatingly handsome, it wasn’t fair. “I’ll keep still,” she mumbled, face feeling far too hot. “Promise.”
“Oh, you promise?” She didn’t miss the teasing edge to his words, the smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth.
She nodded again. “Yeah, Sammy.”
“Good girl,” he praised once more, and was nice enough to give her a proper kiss that time. It still wasn’t what she craved — she didn’t feel his tongue in her mouth, he didn’t kiss her until she went dizzy — but it was nicer and kinder than a little peck. “Ten minutes and I’m all yours.”
She settled back into his chest as he went back to work, comfy to just rest against him in her post-orgasm euphoria, happy to wait the ten minutes until he was finished. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d fucked her on the library table that week.
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lostalioth · 2 months ago
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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
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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.
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→ 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
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sammyluvr · 3 months ago
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my hands are yours — sam winchester
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cw : gn!reader, hurt/comfort, angst, injury, canon violence, demons, possession, feelings of guilt, concussion, blood mentions, pet names (honey, baby), no y/n, not proofread, 2.8K words. requested !
summary : sam patches you up, ever guilty, after meg attacks you while possessing his body.
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for parts of it, meg made him watch. she kept him conscious as she killed a fellow hunter, forced him to see parts of the encounter with jo and the punches she threw at dean. she went on a chaos-inducing, bloody spree with his body and his hands and she made him watch.
as for the worst part, meg had spent a long while debating how to make it as horrible to sam as she could. does she make him watch the whole while? show him glimpses? or keep him in the dark only to find out later what his hands have done.
she decides that any option would do, so she chooses the in between. for just a moment, she grants sam the sight of you, bloodied and bruised under his body, red on his hands. then it goes dark.
✶.◟
the second sam wakes, finally in control of himself and rid of meg, he’s disoriented. he looks at dean, then bobby. and for some reason you’re not in the room with them.
“sammy?” dean calls out, nose bleeding and bruises starting to form on the side of his face. it all comes back to him and he scrambles to stand up.
“where are they?” he breathes out, panicking already. neither dean nor bobby has to ask who you’re referring to.
bobby shrugs. “they weren’t answering the phone. we didn’t have time to find them before, ya know, you and that demon fucker showed up.”
“dammit,” sam curses, searching his pockets for his phone. he calls you with shaky hands; you’re on speed dial. bobby and dean watch with concern and sam’s face crumbles when you don’t pick up. neither question when sam crosses the room on quick, unsteady feet to grab the nearest computer. he types furiously, and they figure he’s tracking your phone. sam pays them no attention, none at all when he finds your location, or grabs the keys to the impala or rushes out the door.
he doesn’t make it to the car before dean stops him, stumbling a little from all the pain when he grabs sam’s wrist. sam whirls around and almost shoves dean before remembering that he’s injured. instead, sam pulls away easily.
“they’re hurt,” he practically growls, but there’s a hint of pleading behind the aggression.
“exactly,” dean counters, “you’re too freaked to drive.” 
sam looks dean up and down with a quick flick of his eyes. “i’m fine. you’re worse off than me, just– just keep calling them. so they know it’s really me.”
according to your phone gps, you’re only twenty minutes away. halfway through the achingly silent drive, his phone rings. he picks it up in a panic when he sees your caller id on the screen.
“baby?” he breathes into the phone, chest tight and eyes already teary.
“sam,” you sigh out. he wishes your voice weren’t distorted through the phone, but he’s sure he must’ve heard you in worse shape before. you’ve got to be alright, based on the way you say his name. “dean called me.”
“yeah.. it’s me, honey.” he swallows thickly, his fingers tightening around the wheel. “fuck, i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry, baby.” 
“i know,” you whisper, sounding tired. that frightens him. “but it wasn’t you. it really wasn’t you. i know that now, and i knew it then. you gotta remember it wasn’t you.”
sam has to really focus to keep his eyes on the road. he has to blink away tears so that his vision is clear enough to drive safely. luckily the dark highway is almost completely empty. he can’t manage a proper response to your reassurance, so he changes the subject.
“honey.. where are you, baby? the map doesn’t show anything near you except the road.” he’s apprehensive as he asks, afraid to hear the answer despite already knowing it. you cringe softly, knowing too that he won’t like it.
“i’m in my car,” you murmur. you’re sounding more and more tired the longer he speaks with you. “on the side of the road.” sam doesn’t know what to say to that. it sends a pang through his chest. he doesn’t know exactly what happened, but he can imagine it. he can imagine meg finding you, cutting you off on your way to bobby. calling you and telling you to pull over; you haven’t heard that he’s possessed yet. you think it’s him on the phone. you wait just a minute for him on the side of the road. she pulls over next to you and comes out. most likely, you throw yourself into his arms, worried sick. he can imagine the way you’d cup his face and check him over, asking where he’s been.
then he imagines that meg says something subtly horrible to you. your face twists in confusion. then meg gets really mean. talks like him and tells you he doesn’t really love you, and that’s when you know it’s not him. that’s when she hurts you, beats you into the grass on the side of the road. sam knows that part because, in the glimpse that meg gave him, you were lying in the green, little flecks of red decorating the grass and blending in with dirt. and your eyes weren’t open
so you must’ve woken, mind fuzzy with pain and alone and rattled after seeing sam be the one to beat you until the work went dark. and that means you crawled or stumbled however you could, back to your car. he wonders how long you lay in the grass. how badly she injured you, how much it hurts right now. 
he comes back to you. “okay,” he whispers, voice taut and pained. “i’m coming to get you. i’m… i’ll be there soon, baby. just stay awake til then, okay?”
“i know,” you mumble. “i won’t fall asleep.” a soft pause. well, soft enough for you, but stiff and unforgiving to sam. “how long?”
“just under ten minutes now, honey,” he assures you, cursing silently at the way your voice slowly starts to reveal to him your state. it’s weak and tired and tells him that you’re missing him, wanting him closer, wanting his arms around you. you’re still seeking his comfort.
he can’t bear to hang up the phone, even when neither of you really have anything left to say. or really, anything that’s left you can get yourself to say. for you, it’s because you’re running out of energy; sam’ll feel so horrible, but you’re starting to think his fists to your face a couple times has given you a mild concussion. and for sam, he can’t get the right words out. everything gets stuck in his throat. he knows you don’t want to hear apologies from him, because none of it was his fault. but he’s guilt ridden and a little panicked because you only talk when he softly calls your name through the phone just to be sure you’re awake.
when he finally spots your car, it takes everything in him not to speed up to an unreasonable pace. but he peels off to the side of the road with a screech of tires and a worse than haphazard parking job. you’re in the passenger’s seat; you didn’t even try to make it to the driver’s. the door of the impala hangs open as sam runs straight to you.
he feels sick when he opens your car door, crouching down and reaching with sorry hands for your bloodied face. you look at him with soft eyes and a tired smile that he feels he most certainly doesn’t deserve. his stomach lurches at the sight of your blood and bruises and exhausted limbs.
“hey, honey,” he murmurs the second the door is open and you can hear him. “i’m here, it’s me, baby. i’m so sorry–” his fingers tense up just centimeters from your face. it’ll hurt if he touches you there, so he drops them to cup the side of your neck and shoulder. even then, his touch is feather light, as careful as he could get. “i’m sorry.”
“please don’t be,” you whisper back, just as softly, not as sadly. you’re just glad to see him, comforted to have him back. “don’t be sorry.” you watch him, soaking him and in presence. there’s no fear, no hesitation, no worry to have him close. his knuckles are split from making you bleed, but all you’d like to do is kiss them better.
the absolute trust and unadulterated affection that you watch him with could kill him. he knows that, logically, he’s inculpable in the crime of making you bleed. but he can’t seem to convince himself of that. he’s very sorry, and he’s sorry for that too, because he knows you wish he wasn’t.
“alright,” he breathes. “let’s get you out of here. bring you back to bobby’s to patch you up.” he almost moves to scoop you up into his arms to carry you to the impala, but thinks better of it. instead, he leans in and presses a kiss to an unbruised spot on your forehead. your eyes look a little unfocused and it frightens him. “gonna park the impala, i’ll be right back.”
“okay,” you sigh. admittedly, you don’t know exactly what he means in your hazy state, but he says he’ll be right back, so it is okay.
sam only takes the time to park and lock up the impala because dean would kill him otherwise. he makes it a quick job, and slides into your car’s front seat. the keys aren’t in sight when he glances around.
“baby?” he calls softly, meeting your eyes. you’re already watching him with sweet eyes. you had let out a little gasp of pain when turning your neck to look at him. “do you have the car key?” 
you blink and stare at him for a moment. then you give a quiet hum. “mhmm.” your hand isn’t too shaky when you reach into your jacket pocket and pull your keys out. he reaches right out to gently take them from you so you don’t have to move any further.
“thank you, honey,” he murmurs. he sets the keys in the cup holder, then twists in the seat to get as close to you as he can. sam grabs the seat belt and pulls it across your chest, buckling it and carefully rearranging your arms to be a bit more comfortable. his lips brush over your tender cheekbone, and your eyes drift closed for a second. oftentimes, he kisses you on the cheek or the forehead before bed. your lips too, of course. but it’s not time to sleep yet, so you set your hand on his and give a little squeeze before letting go.
his jaw clenches a little when your hand moves away. he doesn’t want to have to do anything but look at you. look after you. he’d much rather watch you than the road. to be sure your eyes don’t droop too much, in case you come to a bump and it jolts you and causes any pain.
sam settles for driving with one hand on the wheel and the other holding yours. you play lightly, weakly with his fingers and it makes his heart ache. he thinks about the way he can feel his heart pound in his chest. it feels different after being possessed, but he doesn’t think he could explain how.
loving you is the same, though. the fact that his heart pounds and pounds for you doesn’t change one bit. you’ve always made him feel like that saying of one’s heart leaping from their chest could really come true.
he has to softly implore you not to fall asleep a few times during the drive. he’s convinced now that you’re a bit concussed, and it terrifies him. no, it horrifies him. that the force of his hands could do that to you. and yet you affectionately fiddle with his fingers like you trust him more than anything.
sam is so soft when he draws you up onto his arms, not bothering to close the car door as he carries you to bobby’s front door. he winces when your cheek meets his shoulder and all the jostling causes you to gasp a little in pain.
and at the door, he pauses for just a second, only because he hates to raise his voice above a comforting murmur around you right now. but he has to be loud enough for dean or bobby to hear him. then the door swings open before he makes a sound, and he sighs in relief. they must’ve heard your car as it pulled into the gravelly driveway. sam ignores them both as he carries you straight to the spare bed, cradling you close and hating having to let you go, even when it means you’ll be much more comfortable on the mattress.
“there we go,” he mutters, half to himself once you’re settled. he feels dean hovering in the doorway, so he turns and tosses him the keys to the impala. “the car’s at the coordinates i left up on the computer,” he says simply, not waiting for any sort of acknowledgement from dean before turning back to you.
he finds the nearest first aid kit, drags up a chair, and commits himself to being the softest he can for you. a hard life has toughened his fingertips, but they are gentle as they erase the blood from your skin and spread ointment over your cuts and bruises. his voice is tender and quiet as he bandages you and says things like i love you and sorry, for the sting of alcohol. his lips are sweet on your forehead. 
“does your head hurt?” he asks softly, already preparing a few pills for the pain. he’s been working in partial darkness to not disturb you.
“yeah,” you answer through a huff of breath, too out of it to lie. your head pounds.
“okay,” he whispers. “we’re gonna have to be real careful. you might have a concussion. so i’m gonna have you take some painkillers, then get lots of rest, alright baby?”
“yeah. feels funny,” you slur quietly, not even sounding upset or anything. just tired, maybe even pleased because you’ve got sam fussing over you in the sweetest way possible. sam’s jaw clenches, but he indulges your tone because you’d rather he not worry so much.
“funny, huh?,” he says as though he’s smiling softly at you. his eyebrows give away his frown, though. “can we sit up for a second to take these pills?” you’d really rather not, so you give him a little pout. you’re just so tired. that look on your face, a little grumpy and stubborn, shows him that you really are a little fuzzy in the head. it’s adorable, certainly, but concerning to him just the same. he slides an arm under your shoulders, leaning over you so that your head lolls lightly onto his shoulder.
sam makes sure you don’t have to exert an ounce of effort to get you up; you lean fully against his body to stay upright. if you thought about it hard enough, you’d certainly be capable of holding yourself up, but he doesn’t give you the chance to have to think about it at all. you’re comfiest like this, so you’ll stay that way. if it didn’t hurt your head, you’d peer up through your eyelashes to catch a glimpse of his pretty face while it’s so close to yours.
he brings his hand to your mouth, tapping your chin gently when you don’t react accordingly. “open a little for me, please,” he whispers. you follow his instructions, just a bit mindlessly because he makes it easy to let yourself be taken care of. he places a pill on your tongue, then grabs a water bottle and brings it to your lips. it takes you two tries to swallow the pill, but the second one he gives you goes down a bit easier. “there you go,” he murmurs, carefully lowering you back into the bed. his big hand cradles the back of your head before settling you into the pillow.
he watches your eyes drift closed before he’s even said the words, you can rest now. his hands find yours.
the hands that hurt you weren’t his. this, you know. the hands that love you and patch you right back up are his and only his. so you hold them over your stomach when he’s done with it all and, eyes still closed, mumble, “i love you. i love your hands, sam.”
the hands that hurt you weren’t his. this, he has trouble accepting. the hands that love you and patch you right back up are not only his, but yours too. so he lets you hold them over your stomach when he’s done with it all and tells you, “they’re yours, honey. ’m all yours.”
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inlovewhithafairytale · 10 months ago
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POV: Dating Sam Winchester
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deanwinchestersbabygirll · 5 months ago
Text
wishful thinking
-warnings// angst, mentions of smut but no real descriptions
lil summery// Sam has a little crush on deans girlfriend a just little sad
Dean x reader... with a little Sam x reader (just a lil bit)
word count// 3450
(Gif from pinterest)
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You groaned as the light came through the window blinds, rolling over to hide in your boyfriends warm chest, Dean chuckled running his hand up and down your bare back "not ready to wake up gorgeous?" He asked kissing the top of your head "no. My plans revolve around staying in bed with my pretty sexy, and very nude boyfriend" you mumbled against his chest, dragging your hand down his chest and down his stomach
You jumped back when you heard a loud knock on the door "are you two almost ready? There was another attack last night" Sam called through the door, "Just taking a shower then we'll be out Sammy" Dean yelled back, you looked up at him confused "baby we showered last night" Dean chuckled, rolling on top of you, he smirked down at you, his amulet hanging down his neck "yeah but I just bought us some more time" Dean flirted as he pressed kisses down your neck, already making your eyes roll.
Sam leaned against the impala, growing more and more impatient as the time moved on, with a final sigh of annoyance he went back to Dean and your shared motel room, "Dean I've been waiting almost an hour dude serio-" Sam started to yell but was quickly cut off by the door opening revealing you dressed only in deans long red flannel, your cheeks red and your hair a mess "I'm sorry Sammy, we'll be right out in two minutes, I swear" you told him quickly shutting the door in the stunned Winchesters face 
Sam was in awe of you, ever since you and Dean came to get him from Stanford four years ago he knew there was something about you that just warmed his heart, how kind you were to him and when Jess passed, you let him cry in your arms many nights after, how beautiful you were, how smart you were, you were like a walking encyclopaedia. He knew how wrong it was, having a crush on Deans girlfriend. he just couldn't help himself 
Every day was an internal battle for Sam, he wanted you, he wanted you more than he's ever wanted anything, but he sees how much his brother loves you, and that's what kills him even more, he would never want to hurt his brother. He just couldn't help himself, especially when he heard your moans through every crappy motel walls, hell he's even walked in on you both going at it  more times than he'd ever like to admit, you would think after the eitgth time Dean would learn to lock his damn door.
It definitely didn't help Sam keep himself composed when he was popping boners left and right with the images of you after being fucked, even if wasn't by him flash through his mind constantly.
"Alright, give us the run down Sammy" dean said as he drove away from the red room motel Sam stayed quiet as he tried to avoid looking at you sitting in the back seat "Sammy!" Dean called loudly snapping his fingers in his face startling the seasoned hunter "w-what?" He stuttered out confused "gives us the run down... are you feeling good, not like you to be so out of it man" dean turned to look at him quickly worry evident in his voice 
"Yeah fine just tired. didn't sleep great"  Sam mumbled out tucking his growing hair behind his ears "you sure sweetie? you look a little pale, maybe your coming down with something. c'mere let me check your temperature" you said leaning into the front to feel his forehead "w-what no no I'm fine not sick I'm just tired so just drop it and leave me the hell alone!" Sam said flinching away defensively, if you touched him right now he was definitely gonna go crazy 
Dean turned to give Sam a hard look "watch it Sam, she was only trying to help you, no need to bite her damn head off!" Sam snorted "whatever" he pushed himself as close to the passenger side ignoring his brother for the rest of the ride his eyes stared hard out at the road as he tried to focus on the hunt... and not how good your breasts look in that shirt .
Dean looked at Sam then gave you a concerned look matching your own in the rear view mirror. 
When you got to the Swanson house you both  decided to let Sam take the lead in questioning considering he didn't give you any details on the death, what he suspected, could be demon, ghost... literally anything at this point.
"Any idea what's up with Sam?" You asked Dean watching as Sam spoke to the victims heartbroken husband, Dean sighed his eyes narrowed at his little brother trying to figure out what's going on in his head "not a clue but I'll talk to him about it" dean grumbled out squinting his eyes at his younger brother.
It was a quiet drive back to the motel , Sam was laser focused on watching the blurs of houses and cars, you couldn't help yourself but looking at him worried, you were sure he could feel your eyes burning a hole into the back of his head. Even if he did feel it he never let on, never acknowledged you or dean were in the car too.
Once Dean parked baby Sam was rushing out toward his motel room. Dean slammed the car door annoyed before turning to look at you his hard eyes softening "I'm gonna talk to Sammy see if I can get him to talk about wheatever the hells bothering him" dean told you before planting a soft kiss on your lips "okay baby, I'm gonna take a walk and go grab us some snacks and beer, hopefully Sammy opens up to you" you wrapped your arms around deans neck, his own on your hips as he had you pinned tight against the impala
Dean shook his head pulling baby's keys out of his pocket "your not walking anywhere sweetheart, I trust you'll take care of my baby, and my baby will take care of my sweetheart" dean joked making you giggle, your cheeks heating up as you licked your lips "you Dean Winchester are a man of many surprises... and I quite like that about you" dean caught your lips once again in a soft kiss his tongue slipping into wrestle with your own before giving your ass a hard smack. You gasped and pulled away your body feeling hot at his actions 
You put your hands on deans chest lightly pushing him away from you "alright I better go, good luck talking to Sam" dean shook his head his green eyes turned to look at Sam's closed motel room door sighing "yeah I'm gonna need it". 
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Your nerves were all over the place as you walked around the small corner store. You hated when Sam and Dean would fight, on one hand, Dean is your boyfriend you can't help but take his side most of the time, but Sam was your best friend. It just put you in such a shitty position until the boys eventually swept it under the rug. You grabbed a bunch of snacks because you knew Dean was an angry eater and he usually stuffed his face with liquorice and chocolate after any arguments, or if you were having make up sex and dean was still a little mad he'd eat something else...
You opened the door to your motel room so see Dean pacing the floor his hands running through his hair, clearly he was frustrated and seemed pretty anxious "how'd it go sweetie?" You asked him setting the bag of goods and beer on the table "I- uh- fi-fine yeah I guess" dean stuttered out as his pacing continued "dean what's wrong? Is it bad- oh my god please sit down your freaking me out!" You snapped grabbing deans arms stopping him from moving any further "it's nothing I just... look you know how much I care about you. Id do anything for you no matter what it was, I just when you talk to Sam please remember that" dean told you his hands coming to rest on the sides of your face his worried eyes staring into your own
"Wha- talk to Sam? Dean what's going on why do I need to talk to Sam?" You were freaking out why the hell was Dean Winchester, the man who hides what he feels on the daily pouring his heart out to you now of all times. Dean leaned in catching your lips in a slow sensual kiss, pulling away to rest his forehead against your own "I promise everything will make sense if you talk to Sam" Dean whispered "okay let's go" dean shook his head immediately "I don't think I should be around Sammy right now I'll wait for you here" okay now you were officially freaking the fuck out
You nodded slowly and headed out to towards Sam's motel room next door. You stared at the red door taking a couple of deep worried breaths before knocking. It took three seconds after the last knock until the younger Winchester was opening the door his cheek looking slightly swollen "hey... come on in" Sam said moving to the side to allow you in "hey... so what's going on? Dean seemed pretty upset" you told him, Sam sighed and ran his hands down his face his eyes closed tight "it's stupid. It's so stupid I just don't know what to do anymore I've been... fuck this is hard-" "Sam! Spit it out please!" You yelled cutting off his rambling 
"....Y/N, I think I'm in love with you" once the words left Sam's lips your whole body froze. You felt like the air was sucked right out of you. "You what?" You asked "I think I'm in love with you... it started a couple of years ag-" "Years! what the fuck do you mean years Sam? How many?" You cut him off "i- I lost Jess and then you... you were there for me and it just kinda escalated from there. Look I don't want to feel like this. I don't want to be in love with my brothers girlfriend, I've felt like the worst person in the damn world every day because of this... I just I can't help it" Sam confessed
"Sam Jess passed four years ago. Are you telling me you've had feelings for me since then?" You asked him calmly and he nodded quickly "honey I don't think your in love with me. I think you went through an extremely traumatic experience with Jess and me being there for you every day. I think your confusing the feelings you had for jess to me. Sam, I love you because your my best friend... and I'm with dean and I haven't even told him yet but I love him Sammy..." you told him and Sam took a deep breath "I uh i guess I never thought about it like that. I think your right I'm confusing my feelings I had for Jess to you" Sam agreed making you relax 
"I'm sorry I sprung all this on you and Dean today. When you put it like that it makes sense... I mean Jess was the love of my life… I even had a ring. Before you and Dean came to Stanford I had it all planned out, then it was taken away from me in the blink of an eye... and dean still has you-" Sam paused taking a shaky breath "I guess I'm just jealous of you guys, of what you have with each other. I've never seen Dean love someone so much and that's why me feeling like this bothered me so much because I want my brother to be happy and I want my best friend to be happy too" Sam ended his speech and you had tears falling down your cheeks feeling your heart break at his words
"Sammy I'm so sorry about what happened with Jess. You deserved to have the happy life you always wanted with her" Sam nodded his eyes filling with tears he sucked in a harsh breath of air "yeah.... I miss her every day. I just... I want what I had with her back- I want Jess back, I see you and Dean and I want that. Jesus I fucking had that. Life deals me the crappy hand of yellow eyes and Jess has to pay for it?" Your cheeks were wet with tears, you couldn't help but bawl at Sam's words. Life had been so cruel to the Winchesters 
"I know honey... I know. It's not fair, I know you feel like Jess was the one for you but sam, I only met her once and I seen how much she loved you. She would want you to get out there and find the girl your meant to spend your life with, it's not me, but she's out there... she's just waiting for you to find her" you smiled taking his big hand in yours and giving it a comforting squeeze. Sam nodded slowly 
"I really i appreciate that Y/N, I'm glad this crap got brought out. Talking to you has really made me feel a lot better about this so thanks, I uh do you mind giving me some time just to think. I kinda want to be by myself now" Sam told you and you nodded heading towards the door, Turing to take one last look at the sad giant "we're right next door if you need anything at all, okay Sammy?" His lips curled in a soft smile and he gave you a quick nod.
Once the door was a shut you leaned against it your hand going to your chest as you took a deep breath, hunting gouls was easier than that damn conversation. Your heart was beating like crazy thinking back on every word, Sam thought he was in love you, I mean of course he wasn't. He was in love with the idea of you... of love that's what he wanted.
You squeezed your eyes shut to calm down before going back to your and Deans room. You opened the door to find Dean sat at the edge of the double bed, his head facing the ground as his hands ran through his hair “Dean?” You called to him. His head snapped towards you his feet moving faster than the rest of his body as he stunned his way toward you “Y/N…. H-how’d it go? Did you-” “talk to Sam… yeah we had a long talk. I think everything’s gonna be just fine now” you told him 
Deans shoulders visibly relaxed, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you into a hug “thank god… thought I was gonna have to kick his ass” dean joked but you thought back to Sam’s swollen cheek. You pulled back from the hug and gave dean a hard look “Dean Winchester… did you punch your brother because of me?” 
Dean shook his head quickly “no of course not… I punched him because he told me he wanted to be with my girlfriend, maybe had he phrased it better to me I wouldn’t have lost my temper but if someone tells me they want to be with my girlfriend and they’re in love with her… I’m gonna loose my shit” you tried to hide the small smirk from your face by leaning in to give dean a hard kiss on his soft lips “that’s really sweet baby. Please don’t fight with Sam because of me, seriously we had a really good conversation tonight” 
Dean noodles slowly “can you tell me what you talked about?” You smiled and sat down on the bed and pulling Dean with you so you were both laying down on the hard mattress “well he told me he was in love with me-” deans arm around your waist grew tense as he pulled you closer so your head was resting against his chest  “but we talked about things and we got to talking about Jess and-” you paused taking a deep breath and looking up at dean to find him already looking at you 
“Sam is still hurting over Jess. He was confusing his love for Jess to love for me, thats all, he’s not In love me. He’s in love with the idea of love because he had that, then he lost it in the blink of an eye and then he sees us together. He just needs some time and he needs us to help him get back out there find a distraction, hey maybe even find the love of his life like m-” you stopped yourself quickly, Dean opened his mouth to say something but you quickly jumped back in
“We should take him out tomorrow, there’s a bar down the block. I saw it when we were driving earlier, it looks like it could be fun, what do ya say?” Deans eyes crinkled as he smiled lovingly at you. He loved how much you looked out for Sammy, it’s part of what made him fall in love with you. “I’m down, any time I get to spend with you I am down for it” dean told you taking your hand in his placing a soft kiss to it “how about we crack open those beers over there eat some junk food and watch a little Dr sexy?” Dean suggested. You smiled and nodded your head “i love that idea” you leaned up to give him a quick kiss before he grabbed the goods.
You were hours into the doctor sexy marathon you and dean had unintentionally started. Deans arm hung loosely around your waist while you cuddled comfortably into his warm side, your leg wrapped loosely around deans hips. You looked up to see deans green eyes lolling to sleep slowly, still somewhat awake “dean?” You whispered, his eyes opened quickly and he let out a low “yeah?” And turned his gaze to you “why were you so nervous earlier? Before I went to Sam’s room?” He sighed his body tensing slightly under you “I just… I hated the idea of you talking to Sam about his little crush on you because well, your my girl… and I love you” dean rushed out the end and your head snapped up 
“You what?” You asked your chest suddenly feeling tighter like your heart was about to explode “i love you sweetheart” dean told you more clearly this time. A smile immediately overcame your face as you rushed down to press a hard kiss on deans lips. Dean responded right away, his hands wrapping around your hips to pull you on top of him… well more than you already were
You pulled back slightly from the kiss pressing your forehead against his “I love you too Dean Winchester, so fucking much baby” you giggled your lips brushing against his in each movement. Dean pulled you back into another deep kiss his big rough hands squeezed your ass before moving up your waist to pull your shirt off leaving you in your black lacy bra. Your squealed into deans mouth when he ripped your bra in half, pulling the ruined fabric off off your arms baring your breasts to him. Deans lips detached from your swollen ones, he attacked you chest immediately placing kissing app over your chest, sucking love marks all over you, especially on your sweet spot to mark his territory.
Sam who was in the next room slammed a pillow over his head to drown out your screams of pleasure, Sam lied to you earlier, he meant it when he said he was in love with you. But when he saw your panic and how you talked about your one for his brother he panicked and wanted to take each word back, that’s why when you mentioned it being confusion over his love for Jess he jumped at it. He would never do anything to hurt you or dean he loved you both way to much to ever even  think about doing that to either of you, that’s why he was just going to have to swallow his feelings and curse chuck for not having you both meet first. He wished every damn night that he met you before dean, constantly living in guilt Sam knew he had to take his feelings for you and bury them deep inside of him, a life with you was just wishful thinking for the younger Winchester. 
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ALL MY OWN WORK I DO NOT GIVE CONSENT TO COPY OR PUBLISH ON OTHER SITES , I.E WATTPAD, ETC, WITHOUT MESSAGING TO ASK FIRST
next to be written is Sam Winchester, hero part 2, this was requested and I'm hoping to get it published soon, until then please enjoy :))
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