#thanks for coming to my TedTalk you will find a gift bag under your seats for making it to the end

[oh-men-of-dark-and-dismal-fate]

Brahms probably does some exercises in the walls.

I can imagine back in the early days of adjusting to the walls, his dad probably gave him a little booklet of exercise and was like "Do this to burn out any energy. Can't have people (aka mummy and me) hearing you run about in the walls." And it's all the basic shit like squats, crunches, pull ups all accompanied by illustrated demonstrations.

And like-he kept that booklet. He knows all the exercises by heart, but he kept that crusty, crumpled, age-stained booklet and half-halfheartedly follows through with it.

Our wall man does pulls up from the rafters of his tiny, cluttered space in the attic. He does floor crunches. He likes to skip out on leg day cause he considers climbing up and down the ladders in the walls enough work for his gluts. And does he have abs? Not really. He only does bare minimum work cause his back is fucked up from crouching all the time and his father never bothered to explain to Brahms about proper form during the exercises. Brahms has a tummy pooch, but is an overall lean muscled fella.

On that note, he has upper body strength that makes you do a double take. Brahms could have been king of the monkey bars with that grip strength if it wasn't for his mother scolding him not to get his over-priced, custom tailored suit dirty. Put an apple in this man's hands and he will split it in half like a kitkat bar. Do it. He will enjoy seeing how flustered or impressed you are by this. He will also crush garlic for you like it is his job.

No idea how he got this strength. Possibly from eating toast and beans. Science has yet to confirm this suspicion.

[thecleverdame]

Control and Release - 30

Series Masterlist

TEDTalk!Sam x Reader

Summary: After the rest of the staff is caught in a snowstorm, you find yourself acting as a personal assistant to the notorious Sam Winchester. As the arrangement becomes more defined, you and Sam begin a sexual adventure with dangerous consequences.  

Warnings: Dom/Sub, humiliation, embarrassment, sexual objectification, mutual masturbation, spanking, cum play, fingering, anal play, orgasm control, nipple clamps, dub-con, breath play.

Beta: @ilikaicalie

Words:3.1k

Parts 1-36 are currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories, including the ABO series Gods of Twilight and Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<

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You blink once..twice...and then your cloudy vision clears and Sam comes into view, hovering above you.

“Welcome back,” he offers, giving your hand a squeeze.

“I passed out, huh?” You try to sit up but your body isn’t ready quite yet.

“Yes. There are usually more warning signs. You went down fast.”

“I hate this.” You close your eyes, a pounding headache whirling to life in the back of your head. “It’s so fucking scary. Every time I’m sure I’m not going to wake up.”

“But you did wake up and I was here with you the whole time,” he explains calmly.

“How long was I out?” You feel around, realizing he’s moved you from the couch to the bed. You’re stark naked and tucked under the sheet.

“Ten minutes, you started to come around once but slipped back under.”

“I’m so sick of this.”

“Maybe this one was my fault. I shouldn’t have put you through all this, not tonight. I know you’re dealing with a lot-”

“It wasn’t the sex.” You shake your head. “I liked that. It’s something else. I know it, I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“Well, you need to call your therapist in the morning.” Sam studies you quietly for a moment. “You should be getting better and these incidents are happening faster every time.”

“But fewer and far between.”

“It’s not good enough. If she can’t help you, I’ll find someone who can.”

Rolling onto your side you look at him sitting naked on top of the bedspread. He’s your favorite version of Sam when he’s like this, stripped down to nothing and he’s still so fucking confident in everything he does it makes you wet just to think about it.

“I think I just need time, Sam. It hasn’t been that long, I’ll call her.” You glance at the clock, it’s almost midnight but thankfully tomorrow is Saturday, a well-deserved day off. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“No.” Sam gets up to grab a bottle of water from the minifridge and brings it back to you. “Drink. I had hoped we could go out and see the city. If that’s something you’re interested in and you feel up to it.”

“I would love that,” you smile, wincing as the throbbing intensifies. “I think. As long as my head stops banging.”

Saturday Morning

“You sure you feel okay?”

“Good as new…what is this?” You look at the boxes spread out over the table. There’s so many they’ve overflowed onto the couch, garment bags carefully laid out so as not to wrinkle whatever’s inside. None of this was here when you stepped into the shower and now it’s as if the room exploded. Like he snapped his fingers and a couture fairy appeared.

“Clothing. I ordered you a few things.” He’s toweling his hair dry in the corner as you stand there, hair dripping onto the carpet.

“This is more than a few things.” You tiptoe around the packages, wary of the designer names. One of these boxes is equivalent to your monthly rent, some five times that. You can tell just by the labels.  

“It’s not all clothing. There are a few pairs of shoes, handbags, hats. Anything you might want.”

“Why?” you ask, glancing at your ratty sweatpants hanging from the back of a chair. “Do you not like the way I dress?”

He looks up, thinking about his response before speaking.

“The way you dress is fine.”

“But…” you continue.

“But you’re a beautiful woman and your clothing is...not on par with the rest of you. I thought you might enjoy some new things.”

You can’t help but feel indignant and flattered at the same time.

“So, you don’t like the way I dress.”

His jaw ticks, already losing patience with the conversation.

“No, I don’t.” He pads to the closet pulling a shirt off a hanger. “You can pick out the things you like and I’ll have the rest returned. If you’re upset with me, it can all go back.”

“I didn’t say I was upset with you,” you counter, peeking inside one of the bags. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

The truth is you’ve got one look: business wear. In your downtime, you live in jeans and a T-shirt. It’s not that you don’t have an interest in looking more put together, but your salary has never allowed indulgences. Any nice items you own came from second-hand shops. You’re aware the two of you look like a mismatched pair. The thought makes you blush, embarrassed that you’re not living up to his idea of what you should be.

“You liked the suit I bought you.” He shrugs.

“Yes, I love the suit. But it’s worth more than my car. I’m not used to being gifted these kinds of...luxury goods.” You watch as he buttons up his shirt. Even on a day off he’s dressed like he’s got somewhere to be. If you didn’t know him, you’d still know he was someone. He looks important.

“You deserve to look like your worth.” He opens up a small box and pulls out a pair of heels that make your heart flutter.

“How much am I worth?” you ask.

“Oh,” he grins as you slink closer, cozying up to him. “I couldn’t put a price on you.”

“Thank you.��� You kiss him softly, watching his eyes fall shut.

After picking out an outfit comprised entirely of Sam’s selections you do feel like a million dollars. You walk a little taller, laugh a bit louder and for the first time you get a true taste of what a life with his resources would feel like. You spend the day eating, shopping, and sightseeing until your feet feel like they’re going to fall off.

Sunday Morning

That morning Sam gets between your legs before the sun comes up. You awake to the feeling of his tongue on your clit. He manages to coax out your first orgasm before you’re fully coherent, leaving you swimming in pleasure as he slides his cock inside.

By the time you roll out of bed you’re ravenous and order half the room service menu. You’re elbow deep in banana pancakes when there’s a knock at the door. Sam answers to an agitated Pepper who slips inside.

“There’s something you need to see.” Pepper glances at you mid-bite, just as you’re shoving an obscene forkful of pancakes into your mouth. She rolls her eyes as you snap your lips shut, watching as she hands an iPad to Sam.

His eyes flit over the screen, glancing up at you for split second.

“What is it?” you garble, chewing as fast as you can.

“This surprises me,” Sam looks at Pepper. “I underestimated the interest in my personal life.”

“It’s different over here, the tabloids look for anything. You’re rich and known for being a bachelor. It’s newsworthy.”

“What is it?” you ask again, standing up and pulling your robe closed across your chest.

Sam wordlessly hands you the iPad as you read the headline scrawled across today’s digital edition of the Daily Mirror:

Love in London? American millionaire Sam Winchester spotted out and about with mystery woman.

It’s accompanied by several photos of you and Sam walking hand in hand, stopping to peer into shops. These photos are from the end of the day. The only saving grace was the whipping wind. You had shoved your hair under the hat he insisted you take along. It kept your locks in check and did an adequate job hiding your face from the photographer.

In the last photo, Sam has his arm around your waist, looking down at you with a sly grin, a moment away from a kiss. There is no denying the nature of your interaction.

“Shit.” You sit back down on the couch, staring at the screen.

“No one knows it’s you,” Sam assures, his tone unreadable as always.

“What?” You look up. “This doesn’t bother you?”

“No, not really.” He shrugs.

“These were private moments.” There’s anger rising and you’re struggling to verbalize exactly why this is so upsetting.

“No one will know that-”

“Oh, I don’t care about that!” you cut him off. “I mean, we’ve gotten ourselves into a place now where people are going to find out eventually, it’s going to be awkward but I’m not worried about it. But someone followed us, Sam. Took photos of us and we didn’t even know it. That’s what scares me. The idea that there are people interested enough in your life to follow you around is...unsettling.”

Pepper is hovering in the background, watching and listening. She’s been privy to the two of you together, but this is by far the most intimate moment she’s witnessed between Sam and, well, anyone.

He’s silent, taking a seat in the chair across from you, tilting his head to the side as if he’s reading your thoughts.

“You knew from the very beginning that this was a possibility. I’ve been boring. I’ve never gotten into trouble, I don’t make a spectacle of myself. But this is..something. People are interested in my life because I have money and they’ll be more interested now that I have you.”

“Is this going to become a regular thing?” you ask, trying to sort through all the possibilities. “I mean, are there going to be people hiding in the bushes when we go to dinner? Will it happen when we go home?”

“I don’t know, but it’s probable.” He shrugs, seemingly unaffected, which only serves to exacerbate how invasive you find the whole thing.

“I don’t know how I feel about this.”

“We should think about making a statement. The longer you stay a “mystery woman” the more interest we’re going to garner. If we get ahead of it, it’s not a thing. We’re in control.”

“No,” you shake your head vehemently. “I will not be bullied into going public. How is that being in control?”

“You really don’t want anyone to know about us, do you?” The words fall out just as even as everything else, his eyes narrowing. He sits back, one leg crossing over the other as his jaw ticks to the side. Sam doesn’t have many tells but this one of them. He’s profoundly bothered by your response.

“That’s not what this is,” you counter, feeling instantly defensive.

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m a spoiled brat. Like you’re the only one with a brain.”

He stares at you, nostrils flaring, fingers curling into the armrest of the chair and then he looks up.

“Pepper, would you give us the room please.”

You completely forgot she was there.

“Of course,” she whispers, scurrying out the door and closing it behind her.

“There, we’re alone now. You can tell me how you really feel.”

“I wasn’t going to let her stop me,” you hiss. “I hate it when you use that condescending voice. You know that bothers me. And you did it in front of her.”

“I’m trying to remain rational and calm. But it seems as if I’ve hit a nerve. While we're on the subject, why don’t you tell me why the idea of you and I being out in the open bothers you so much?”

“It doesn’t,” you snap.

“That’s a lie.” He points at you, thrusting a finger forward. “You’ve been fighting the very idea since we evolved. So tell me, what is that you have to hide?”

“I’m not hiding anything.”

“You sure? I get the distinct feeling you’re keeping things from me. A dirty little secret waiting to rise from the ashes.” He’s provoking you now, pushing further than he should and he knows it, but he can’t help himself. “What is it? Some guy you fucked in high school have a polaroid of your pussy?”

“Fuck off!” you yell, pounding your fist on the table. He’s the worst to fight with, he goes from zero to nasty in the blink of an eye. “It’s you, Sam, you are my dirty secret.”

He just stares at you, taken aback by the statement as you fume.

“It’s so complicated, I’m so fucked up I don’t even know where to start.” You kick at the leg of the table in frustration. “I know it’s crazy but I’ve convinced myself that someone is going to know just by looking, all the things I let you do to me. The dirty, nasty things I beg for. And you keep telling people about us without asking me. All I can think is that Toni is in the middle of a meeting picturing me on my knees with a dildo in my ass. Or one of those people from Nick’s party is going to show up and they really know what we’re all about. That stuff is ours, Sam. It’s private and personal and I love how you make me feel but I need that part of our life to stay between us.”

“I already told you, I’ve never told anyone about our dynamic.” His face is hard, emotional armor beginning to build.

“That's not even the half of it.” You sit back, putting your knees up to your chest. “I think about Dean all the time. Every time I’m alone I picture him rounding a corner or showing up at the office. I dream about him. To you, it’s no big deal, but for me, he’s this ever-present threat hovering in the background. You know when the shooting happened, when I first heard the shots, I thought it was Dean, or your dad? And now there are people following us, taking pictures and we had no idea. It would be so easy for your brother to do the same thing. The more we put ourselves out there, the more information they have. You say that there’s nothing to worry about, but I don’t think that’s true. I see first hand every day the damage they did to you.”

You pause to see if he has anything to say, but he just blinks at you.

“And I am nervous about everyone I work with finding out. People will assume I’m fucking you for your money, or for my job. Not that I even care that much about that part of it, that’s the least worrisome part of all this. And, since you brought it up I’m sure there are some pictures of my tits floating around out there. I wasn’t a saint before I met you. I’m a good person but I’ve done some questionable things and being with you means someone will go digging for them. So now I’ve got that anxiety to add to the mix.”

“All of that shit I can get over. It’s not easy by any means but you’re worth it to me. But you really want to know why I’m so gunshy about people finding out about us? I’m afraid you’re going to leave again. You’ll wake up one day, decide you’re bored with me and that will be it. The way you ended things before was devastating and it would be a thousand times worse now. I couldn’t bear losing you and have everyone know about it. I don’t think I could stand that.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” He counters, looking genuinely troubled.

“You already did it to me. It was fucking brutal. We didn’t talk, it was just over. You cut me out of your life like I was nothing to you. You were cruel and it took a fucking lunatic pointing a gun at my head to bring you back. You scare me, Sam. And I scare myself because I’m so in love with you.”

He opens his mouth to speak, then stops, rubbing a palm up and down his thigh. His eyes flutter closed for a lingering moment and you can practically see him evaluating and categorizing his thoughts.

“I-” he starts to speak, his voice catching and he clears his throat. “I had no idea you felt this kind of intensity about our situation.”

“Not all the time,” you whisper looking at your knuckles. “I’ve gotten used to this safe little bubble and I’m terrified if we change things, maybe you won’t want this anymore.”

“My feelings for you won’t change.” He sighs, looking up at the ceiling like it’s physically painful for him to expose these kinds of emotions. “I admit I’ve had the same thought, that you will eventually realize that I’m a terrible person and you’ll walk away from me. I’m sorry for what I did to you. I would take it back if I could, but I can’t. All I can do is move forward and show you that I’m committed.”

“I know.” You take a breath, waiting as he gears up for something else.

“As far as Dean goes, maybe he’s not as harmless as I make him out to be. You’re right to be concerned. I’ll figure out how to put more security measures in place. The last thing I want is you to feel unsafe.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“I can’t control what people think of you. I can only tell you that in my experience people assume the worst and enjoy tearing each other down. That is going to happen. There will be some terrible things said and written about you.”

“I don’t need you to control that. I only need you to acknowledge that it’s not going to be easy for me.”

“I understand.” He nods, his eyes never leaving you. “I do love you. I need to say it more.”

“I love you too.” You offer a tired smile, already emotionally exhausted before the day has even begun. “We can’t keep this a secret and I think it would be better for us if we were open.”

“I agree.” He gets up from the chair, sinking down on the couch next to you. “People will start digging. Looking for anything that could be twisted into a scandal. But I have someone who can help. Make sure we know what's out there, look into your past and get things cleaned up.”

“That would be great.” You take his hands, laying your head on his shoulder. “For the record, I’m not going anywhere.”

He gives a stiff smile, still in his head.

“Neither am I.”