#witchsambingo

[kickingitwithkirk]

La Princesse Vierge

Pairing: Pirate!Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 5296

Warnings:  pirate ship attack, cursing, show level violence, p/v sex, fingering, cunnilingus, a pinch of dub/con

Squares filled: @spnkinkbb -Hair Pulling @j3bingo - “Can I kiss you?” @spnaubingo -Pirate AU  @spnmixedbingo -Sam @winchesterandbeyondbingo -virgin @anyfandomgoesbingo -Bodyguard AU @howbadcanitbebingo -Magical Healing Cock @anyfandomdarkbingo -aquaphilia @witchsambingo -solitary witch

Winchester brothers art inspiration and here

A/N: Thank you to @justagirlinafandomworld and @b3autyfuldisast3r for helping pick bingo squares inspiring this story

A/N II: Once again, brevity is not in my vocabulary

*divider by @firefly-graphics

*No Beta-all mistakes are mine

The sound of men shouting and heavy thumping on the timbers started me from my slumber and by the time on the carriage clock, it was pre-dawn. 

I barely had the sash of my robe tied when the cabin door unlocked flying open and my guardian rushed in, still attired in his night clothes, hair askew, shouting something when the first cannonball slammed into the ship's hull making me stagger. 

Righting myself I pushed past him making for the main deck and finding it in chaos when I emerged from under the poop deck. 

The British officers rushed around me barking orders, crew climbing the rigging to secure lines on the yardarm that had been damaged so the sails didn't fully collapse as the ship shudders from the pounding it’s taking and our cannons returning fire.

I made my way onto the forecastle and froze seeing a dark, ominous, and easily twice the size of our ship flying a Jolly Roger seconds before it fires again.

The blast hitting near the waterline knocks me off my feet. 

I scurry to the closest railing wrapping my arms around one of the spindles can barely understand Captain Barrows shouting orders from the helm as he turns the wheel, maneuvering the ship so the sails can catch more wind and will allow us to outrun the significantly heavier ship.

The captain finished spinning the wheel only to realize he’d steered directly in line with another ship, equal to our attacker's size, bearing down fast upon us leaving him no choice but to call for the white flag of surrender to be raised. 

The air is thick with cannon smoke and tension as grappling hooks fly over the port side sinking into the wood and dragging us towards the first ship as the second comes along starboard pinning us between them. 

Planks are extended allowing the marauders to come aboard with guns and cutlasses drawn, rounding up the crew and disarming them. I was led to stand off to the side with my guardian and officers awaiting the pirate captain's arrival.

During the time we were waiting the raiders methodically unload everything of value from the ship's stores as their quartermaster takes inventory against the ship's manifest and paused speaking to a burly pirate, who’d been silently observing the going on when a handsome, sturdily built man made his way across the deck to them.

He’s taller up close, clad in a well-worn ensemble; cropped dark blonde hair under a wide-brimmed, woven straw hat, a jerkin over belted thigh length, open tunic showing smooth skin covered with a dusting of cinnamon freckles, made more prominent by the Caribbean sun, below the knee trousers, hose and and and tall leather boots.

Watching him converse with the burly one I felt envious of his full lips and long lashes when his verdant eyes drifted over to me causing several of the officers to attempt closing ranks to hide me only to find several guns pointed at them to stop. 

I definitely glared directly when the man’s wicked chartreuse eyes framed with long, thick lashes traversed my scandalously underclad body, blatantly staring at my breasts and smiling in an unsettling manner.

 “Looks like we’re gonna get some fun after all Benny.” 

That’s when my guardian pushed forward and said the stupidest things, “how dare you..you pirate pig! When the king hears about this..”

“Stop flapping that tongue or I’ll do it for ya,” Benny threatens in a bastardized French accent reaching for the knife hilt protruding from his boot when the other slaps the back of his hand against his chest and calmly remarks in his deep, gravelly voice, “relax Benny, let's hear what the man has to say before you collect another trophy.”

My guardian's eyes boggle when Captain Barrow spoke up. “Take whatever items you wish then allow us to proceed to our destination.”

The quartermaster points out something in the manifest to Benny made him grin, take it and drapes his arm over the other's shoulders.

“Deano, the rougir mariée is King George’s niece, Countess Y/L/N, heading for her nuptials to the prestigious Governor of Antigua and lookie..ol’ George sent a dowry.”

“Dean Winchester?” 

The Captain's eyes widened as there was a restless murmuring amongst the offices, many seem to lose their resolve realizing who had captured us.

“The one and only,” he smirked, canting his head to the right, “ya’ catch who we have the honor of being in the presence of Sammy?”

Captain Barrow follows his line of sight and standing a few feet away a man blocking the view with his tremendous height and breadth of shoulders is tapping long fingers on the hilt of a cutlass. He is clad in the same manner as this Dean except for a jacket and the open tunic reveals his golden-hued, moderately-haired, muscular torso. 

The subtle sea breeze stirs the ends of his longish, chestnut streaked with coppery tints hair, tied back under a tricorn hat is without a doubt the most incredibly striking man I’ve ever seen.

“It’s Sam,”  he emphasized in a deep, honey-whisked voice, ”and we mutually agreed not to get sidetracked again, we’re already late for our rendezvous.”

“Aww, don��t be like that little brother. Gordon will understand when he sees what the king's benevolence has sent our way.” Dean crooks a finger at me, “come here, wench.”

No man outside the King had ever dared speak to me in such an impertinent manner makes my spine stiffen and Dean’s eyes narrowed, not pleased with my defiance came over grabbed my wrist jerked me out of my indignant repose.

I soundly slapped him.

His eyes boggled for a brief moment then drew back his arm and I closed my eyes bracing for his physical assault. 

It never came.

I cracked one eye open and gasped; hovering scant inches from my nose was his fist enclosed in the much larger one of his younger brother.

“Do you realize the amount of trouble your impetuousness has brought upon us, big brother?” 

Dean twistes his hand lose and stepping within earshot lowered his voice, “you think the kings gonna get pissed over losing her? She’s obviously not of much value since he refused her her rightful title.” 

I blinked in surprise. 

Dean presents himself as a common pirate but even out here in the middle of nowhere has contacts within the court who supply information of the goings on of the Palace. 

Dean gestures to Benny for the ship's manifest, “look at her dowry, this ship's stores have more monetary value.” Sam took the book, its pages made his lips turn downward. 

“Old George’s marrying her off as a reward to some bureaucrat instead of brokering a new alliance by marriage with France or Spain, so his loss is our gain. We could make quite a bit of coin selling her to Zachariah.”

Benny interjected, “ya’ brothers right on ‘dis one cher. Zachariah be willing to pay handsomely for royal blood, even outta favor. Plus being a vierge makes her a more délicieux morsel to offer up.” 

Sam hands the manifest back to Benny as his uniquely colored eyes traverse over me and I feel a sensation of pleasure?

I found myself sitting on a water barrel on the deck of this ship, The Charger after Dean lost some strange game called rock, paper, scissors.

Over the horizon, I can barely make out the longboat, with what was left of Captain Barrow's crew (and my former guardian) rowing away while his ship sunk into the fathoms wondering if it would’ve been a kinder fate to have gone down with it.

Sensing someone I turn to see an innocent looking young man wave at me.  “Hi, I’m Jack, the Captain requests that you join him below deck please.”

The please surprised me, “and if I refuse?”

Jack's face turns serious, “you don’t want to know what happened to the last person who did that.”

~~~

Captain Winchester and his first mate, a short, older man named Crowley, are hunched over a map table barely gaze up at my arrival, continuing on with their discussion. I take the opportunity to look around at the spacious, well-organized, not cluttered with ill-gotten gains, cabin. 

There's an oak dining table seating six, a rolltop writing desk with several rolled documents lying neatly on it, and strangely, a bookcase running along the wall nearest me followed the progression of its various volumes, so absorbed I stumbled face-first upon an overly large bed realizing these are the Captain's personal quarters.

“I’ve never had a woman fall into my bed enraptured by my literature.”

Embarrassed by my oft-clumsiness making itself known, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity, “well, it is truly impressive,” peering up to find myself staring straight at his..”cock?”

“Now I have had many a woman say that.”

I dropped my face back into the bed feeling a blush coursing from my toes to the top of my head when he burst out laughing, gripped my arm, and hauls me upright. I knew he was big and, though I am not as delicate a specimen as a lady is expected to be, he is massive this close.

“Let’s start over by properly introducing ourselves,“ he steps back, bowing elegantly, “Dr. Sameul Winchester, previously personal physician to the Governor of Montauk, currently captain of The Charger.”

My mouth dropped, “how does one go from such a prestigious profession to..”

His lips, how does a man have such pretty pink lips, quirk, “a scourge and scallywag of his majesty's providences? It started when my father was accused of treason.”

A vague memory of an overheard conversation tickles the back of my mind, “your father was Sir John Winchester, the shipbuilder?” 

“He was part of a consortium that found out several of the king's advisers were in cahoots with Spain during the War of Succession.”

I remember the turmoil that conflict caused for years as he poured an amber liquid into two goblets and hands me one.

 “I lodged a complaint through the governor about his innocents. Subsequently, I was arrested and found guilty of insurrection against the crown.”

“That is outrageous! If the King was made aware of such a miscarriage..”

“It was all done on the Lord Chancellor's orders,” Sam bitterly bit out sitting at the table's head, “spent the next two years at the oars.” I sat down in the chair next to him sickened, having heard rumors about the Lord Chancellor, knowing of what deceptions some would resort to for power.

“I was then auctioned off to a plantation owner and worked at the grindstone when the niece of the island's governor did me a favor. I spent the rest of my time as his personal physician before several of us orchestrated our liberation.” 

“We hid out for months on uninhabited islands Crowly knew from his time on a naval ship in these waters caught wind that Dean had escaped England, ironically on the first ship our father had constructed, The Impala.”

He stared into his cup, “it took another five months of dodging his majesty's navy before he found us and now,” he gestures with one large hand, ”I’m captain of the last ship our father built.”

He studied me with a clinical eye asking, “is what Dean said about your circumstances true?” 

I read in his handsome feature’s anything but the truth wouldn’t be tolerated and took a sip from the goblet to help steady my resolve wheezed from the strength of the spirits made him chuckle. 

Catching my breath I told him the abbreviated version.

~~~

King George I had an ongoing, private feud with one of his siblings, my father, for over two decades.

Upon my birth, the King refused me the title of a princess and instead granted countess as a slight to my father, rendering me almost valueless despite my prestigious lineage. 

Out of shame, my father sent me to live at Hatfield House, saying it was for my health and despite my family’s wealth, I grew up rather poor.  All household accounts were paid by my inheritance, adjusted for my lower rank, thus explaining my minuscule dowery. 

Five months ago, an envoy from London arrived announcing my marriage to the governor of one of his Majesty’s Caribbean provinces and after weeks of preparations my appointed guardian and I boarded Captain Barrow's ship bound for the Caribbean.

~~~

Captain Winchester, Sam, he insists I call him, gave me an unreadable expression before laying out some rules while aboard his ship; I had access to the main deck as long as I was accompanied by Jack, Crowley, or himself, otherwise confined to his quarters we’d both be sharing. 

I was scandalized, it wasn’t that I’d never shared a room before, I had with my governess, but to do so with a man I wasn’t wedded to, if anyone got wind of those arrangements, it’d malign me in society. 

Vehemently objecting I went a step too far in telling him when one overly large hand grabbed my loosely plaited hair and yanked me sideways I felt a strange but not unpleasant sensation traverse through me, a mixture of fear and pleasure.

He tightened his grip and said, “hate to break it to you princess, what you want doesn’t matter. My ship, my rules.” Keeping our eyes locked leans so close I could feel his rum-spiced breath caress my lips when a loud banging on the cabin door interrupts. 

He shouts what, listen to the message relayed, and, with a growl, releases me standing up unabashedly adjusting his engorged member before storming out, slamming the heavy oak door behind him.

When I’m able to feel my legs I shakily cross to the wash basin pouring some water into it and, in a very unladylike manner, dunk my face trying to compose myself but wasn’t helping, every fiber of my being hoped next time he manhandled me, he wouldn’t stop.

Captain Sam Winchester has proven to be a dichotomy and discombobulates me to no end!

Publicly he acts like a well-bred gentleman, even granting privacy when attending to my personal needs, then does a complete turnaround when his brother comes aboard, reverting to the crudeness associated with pirate ilk. 

During the evening meals, the rum flows freely and so does both brothers' lips, especially Dean's. I have had to resist the urge to punch his smug face, plastering on the polite smile I would fake at court when his conversation became pugnacious towards me. 

The last straw was when he indiscriminately pissed in a chamberpot and I fled, mortified, as both brothers laughed. 

At least Sam has shown discretion when it comes to his privy moments but proved true to his words with the other arrangements. The first night I’d made a pallet on the other side of the table, it was the furthest point with some semblance of privacy, instantly fell into an exhausted slumber. 

I was startled when he flung off my blanket and gripping my ankle dragged me across the floor screaming bloody murder when the cabins door burst open and his first mate charged in with pistol drawn.

Crowley assessed the situation and had the audacity to be amused at our tableau; Sam standing over me clad only in his breeches, my nightdress ripped, hanging off a shoulder with the hem bunched up around the top of my thighs barely covering my pudendum.

 “Might I suggest gagging her if she's going to protest your romantic overtures Moose, some of us need our beauty sleep.” 

“Fuck off Crowley!” 

“Oh, I intend to, dreaming about this,” and with a wicked grin, left and Sam returned his attention to me. “I told you we’d be sharing this room; that includes the bed. Get up and get into it now!”

With what decorum I could muster clutch my ripped bodice warily getting up, and edge around him ordered me to stop handed me the shirt he’d been wearing, “I don’t want you fussing with that torn rag all night.”

Turning so I had a semblance of privacy I gasped upon seeing his broad back littered with whipping scars move closer, lightly rubbing my fingers over them flinched and spun seizing my wrist. “I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have been subjected to..I have never condoned such treatment of anyone, no matter what.”

Not saying a word he shoved me towards the bed and I obediently climbed in mentally bracing myself for what was to come when he climbs in the other side and lays down with his back to me.

 “Good night, princess.”

Sleep eluded me for a long time, my mind occupied by this man sleeping next to me, like none I have ever met, and cannot figure out what game he was playing.

Six days later 

I found myself sitting on the beach of some obscure island half-listening to the brothers' conference as Gordon, whom I had taken an instant dislike to, scrutinized me.

Pressing my lips tight together, I vehemently try but cannot suppress my chortle over the item sitting on a crate in front of me any longer.

“What the hell so funny women?” Gordon snaps. 

Lifting my chin from my hand peer over at the darker-complected man, my senses tingling, warning me something about him is all wrong.

“I was wondering,” getting up to dust the sand off Jack’s spare breeches Sam insisted I wear in case we needed to make a quick exit, “if they know what the translation of bолшебный исцелеющий петух is?” 

The Winchesters exchanged looks, “seriously? Neither of you speaks Russian?”

Gordon’s eyes narrowed, “keep quiet or I’ll remove your tongue.”

Little did he know such threats would not scare me, they were nothing compared to the Kings during one of his fits of displeasure.

“The literal translation is Magical Healing Cock.”

They wore matching bewildered expressions, “it’s used in magical practices to help channel sexual energies of the participants while they are,” I made the crude gesture learned from Dean indicating a certain sexual act.

“What the..magical sex..how can you..you’re a virgin!” Dean stumbled out before turning on Gordon, “you lying sonuvabitch, thought you could cheat us!”

Gordon moved quickly, wrapping an arm around my neck placed his pistol against my temple, using me as a shield.

“Since we can’t come to terms, I’ll take the virgin as compensation, she’ll bring me quite a bit of coin at Le marché des esclave AHHHH!” 

Gordon's scream echoed across the beach when I sliced his arm with the engraved silver blade I was given years ago. the whites of his eyes disappear revealing what he was before the beach erupted into pandemonium. 

The Winchester's men engaged Gordon's crew in a bloody battle as I struggled to escape his hold saw the brothers simultaneously fire their pistols and felt one iron ball pass my cheek embedding into that bastard's face as the other enters his chest, his dead weight dragging us down.

But instead of dying, Gordon pinned me under him, wrapping both hands around my throat heard Dean begin reciting, “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo, omnis legio diabolica, adiuramus te..” 

Gordon looked up and flicked a hand sending Dean hurtling towards the treeline and Sam continued, “cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare, Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis..Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei; contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine..”

His voice choked off from the invisible force constructing his throat I managed to wheeze out, “quem inferi tremunt..Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine. Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!”

Gordon's head snapped back, his mouth exuding thick, black, sulfuric smoke plumes outward before penetrating the sand, the heat solidifying it into a jagged ring of black glass. The demons infesting his crew also smoked out to save themselves.

Benny checks Dean's bleeding head and helps him up, slapping his shoulder. Sam inspected my person, finding me uninjured except for finger-shaped bruises on my neck.

“Is this where the rogue pirate asks the princess can I kiss you?”

The surprise flickering across his face at my flippancy made Dean laugh, “alright princess, where the hell did you get that blade and learn to exorcize a demon?”

“My governess was from these islands. She passed her knowledge of the supernatural, and the blade, on to me.”

“Looks like the vierge is worth a lot more than I assumed,” Benny grudgingly remarked.

We spent the rest of the day split into groups:  I helped Sam attend to the injured, Dean led a group to search Gordon’s ship for anything worth salvaging while the rest gathered the bodies, rowing them out to deposit onboard setting it alight before sailing away.

In the pre-dawn light, the ships anchored in a deep water cove of another remote island to lay low for a few days, a chance to rest and recover plus replenish the water casks and some perishables. By late afternoon the necessities were squared away.

A tired-looking Sam had me gather bath sheets and a change of clothing while he grabbed some bread, cheese, and a small, tied bag, placing everything in a burlap sack then we boarded one of the longboats headed for shore.

He led us along a hidden path inland and noticed my fascination with the sight and sounds and began telling me the names of brightly colored birds, strange animals scurrying into the bush, and exotically scented flowers. 

My babbling with delight at finding fresh fruit and mint amuses him, gathering the fruit that’s out of my reach, and starts describing the variety of drinks and dishes they are used in to ward off scurvy..once a doctor.

I picked some of the mint leaves, added a few to the canteen, and began chewing on a couple when I heard running water follow the sound enter a secluded area with a small waterfall feeding a clear pool.

“I found this years ago, the waters are safe and no nasty critters to contend with,” Sam informed me, sitting the sack down on one of the flattened, water-smoothed rocks surrounding the pool digging out the small bag handed me one of the soap cakes.

The one thing I hated the most after leaving England was the inability to cleanse properly, especially my hair, for weeks, only allowed a cursory wipe down daily from the one water cask I was allotted. 

“We won’t be disturbed so take as long as you like. I’ll be on the other side,” he pointed to a grouping of bushes, “and able to hear you.”

Spending the night covered in sand, ash, and blood I wanted to tear my clothes off and dive in instead hesitantly asking, “are you still planning on selling me to this Alistair?”

“I haven’t decided.”

“Keeping me would be advantageous for you.”

Sam leaned against a Bannon tree crossing his arms, “explain to me how keeping you would be advantageous?”

“One-thanks to the King, no one will miss me enough to cause trouble. Two-thanks to my governess, I’m knowledgeable about artifacts and other things that are not Christian, thus exposing Gordon's attempted deception. Three-thanks to my tutors, I speak six languages, well seven, if you include Latin, which saved your collective arses from those demons.  Four-thanks to my intended marriage and what you liberated from Captain Barrow's ship surpasses any monetary value you would make selling me.”

I had learned when Sam partially opened his mouth and rolled his tongue he was considering whatever was presented and decided to up the ante.

 “And five-you. You find me attractive, and would it not be far safer having me in your bed than those doxies of Tortuga to tup?” 

Sam frowned, “what do you know about doxies and tupping?” 

“Did your father never take you to court?” 

“No.”

“The King's court is riddled with some of the best whores in the world. Many were sent to France to train as courtesans and are encouraged to implement their charms to curry favors or seal deals. Several of the queens ladies-in-waiting educated me about copulation while avoiding the maladie française and pregnancy.” 

Sam’s throat rapidly bobbles at that tidbit.

Slowly moving towards him asked, “did you know that royalty isn’t permitted to bathe by themselves? It was always someone’s responsibility to ensure their personage is disease free.” I stop a handbreadth distance and fixate upon his chameleon eyes, “as the only person qualified, it falls upon you to continue monitoring my health.”

He moved so fast. Suddenly I was pinned between his well-muscled chest and the tree, his long fingers roughly tangled in my hair creating an exquisite pain jolting my core.

“Are you only offering to evade being sold off?”

“Maybe.”

  “If I were to keep you, you would be completely under our command.”

 “Please, what do you mean by our?”

“My brother and I equally share everything, this includes women.” I shuddered at the thought of being with his brother, “would you also share me with your crews?”

“No, Dean and I are possessive of our dames entretenues. Do you understand what that entails, princess?

“I would appreciate explicit clarification.”

“Explicitly,” Sam pulled my head to the side leans so close I can feel his lips against my skin as he spoke, “you will be warming one, or both, of our sheets every day,” he continues, “participating in whatever sexual gratification we desire.” I mewl when he bites down hard enough to leave a mark on the juncture of my shoulder, “unless it is time for your flow. Is that clarification enough?”

“Yes, captain.”

“Yes Sir,” he corrects.

“Yes Sir.”

Sam released me, “take off all of your togs.” 

Unabashedly he removed his shirt, “you pointed out it is my responsibility to keep you in good health so I need to examine your physique before engaging in relations charnelles.”

I had little to fear sleeping next to him the last few days but now at the prospect of what is going to happen, I felt trepidation while sliding off my trousers when Sam’s bare feet and calves appeared in view and he lifts my arms, gripped the hem of the shirt and pulls it over my head casting it off. 

Sam wasn’t the first man I saw in the altogether but still felt myself blushing fiercely at both of us taking inventory of everything on display, reminded of the old adage of proportions and a man's appendage undeniably true for him.  

Taking my hands he walks backwards into the warm water till I’m waist-deep then undoes the tie holding back my hair says, “take a deep breath and submerge yourself.” 

I resurface momentarily panicking at Sam’s overly large hands on my head, feeling his fingers lathered in soap cake, massaging my scalp, strangely soothing and exciting, like when he pulls my hair. 

After rinsing he handed me the soap cake, wetting himself then moving back knelt down on his knees in shallower waters.

I had washed my dogs when they came in muddy from the fields but never another person rubbed the cake between my hands then tentatively ran them through his locks, silkier than I’d imagined a man’s hair would be. 

When my short nails scratched his scalp, his muscles twitched and I trailed my fingers over their contours, tracing the scars decorating his skin and felt his breath brush my cheek moving towards my lips I dropped my hands, confusing him.

“I did not verbally agree to those terms,” maneuver back into the water call out, “I have some stipulations of my own,” and swam to the falls. 

I heard him curse and look back, unable to find Sam when he emerged from underwater lifting me onto one of the flattened rocks stood between my spread legs annoyed.

“What makes you think you’re in any position to negotiate terms?” A gentleman would endure only so much, and I had pushed my luck and his patience.

“I only have one. I do not wish to be shared with your brother.” Sam’s mouth downturned,  “something happened to him, it caused an unsettlement..it scares me,” suddenly I am very aware of how naked, not only physically, I had made myself.

I leaned back when Sam placed his hands on either side of me and brought him a bit too close, “what do you know about that?” 

“My governess figured out that I knew things about people just by being in their proximity. It’s why she taught me about the otherworld, said I had been born cursed and if they learned of it, they would come for me someday.”

Sam’s shoulders dropped and his expression saddened, skipping the worst details of what happened to Dean when he was under the tower, the darkest place to be imprisoned, run by a true connoisseur of medieval torturers, Alastair. 

I reached up cupping his cheek putting his focus back on me and tentatively brushing my lips against his he reciprocated, gently caressing mine when I felt his tongue and surprised open up, he inserts it, tangling with mine, showing what a real kiss can be.

His lips following his hands trailing over my bare skin makes me shiver and release a nervous giggle, I feel him smile against my neck, nipping the delicate, bruised skin and I tip my head back as he continues exploring.

At some point I find myself lying back on the rock, eyes closed, an absolute mess while he licks the water off my skin only to have his hair rewet the area and starts over again.

His long fingers brush a sensitive place inside, has me on the edge of needing something I cannot name, and every time I try descending into it, Sam stops and returns to teasing my nipples, suckling gently and twisting between his fingers. 

Jesu, how can a man have both; hands so violent and tender, lips harsh and caressing, at the same time feel a deep aching rising again, can almost taste it then, once again, halts touching me smugly asks, “still want to renegotiate the terms?” 

“Fuck you!” I yawp in frustration.

Sam’s expression changed to irate and bracing myself for the worst he leaned in..amused? 

I could only blink owlishly as he scans my prone form, lewdly splayed before him, chameleon eyes settle upon my pudenda licking his lips trailing fingers downwards over my heated skin inserting three into me, rubbing over that place dipping his head his talented tongue sends me over the plateau, and, without warning, lifts me up off the rock.

I find myself filled with his substantial membrum virile, waters churned up around us, not from the falls but his vigorous thrusting, now appreciating my thorough préparation for Riding St. George felt his muscles tauten, buried his face in the crook of my neck groaning out his release. 

My vaguely functioning mind is amazed after such a strenuous physical excursion he is still holding me in his arms, walks us to the shore, and sits with me clinging like one of the strange creatures explorers write about felt him silently chuckle. 

“Seems I missed learning a lot about ladies by never attending court,” I peer at him puzzled.

 “Dean will be pissed, he was looking forward to using this,” his fingertips trace the outline of my mouth, “for more than your verbal vitriol. Now I’ll have to sweeten the pot so he will forget about you with that very special pistol he’s been wanting.” 

“Are you saying what I think you are saying?”

“I agree to your counteroffer, princess” 

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx  @lyarr24  @flamencodiva  @b3autyfuldisast3r  @lassie-bird @nancymcl  @spnbaby-67  @leigh70

Sam/Jared:  @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen:  @thoughts-and-funnies  @stoneyggirl2  @akshi8278  @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl  @siospins2

[kirathehyrulian]

🔮Witch!Sam Bingo🔮 🚘🐺Friday Drive🐺🚘

(Please do not edit/alter. Feel free to reblog, but please do not repost. At the very least please give me credit.)

Square Filled: wolf!familiar Event: @witchsambingo​

For more art from me please check out my “myart” tag here on Tumblr. 👇(Art Notes and sketch below the cut) 👇  

Art Notes: I finally finished my first square for the Witch!Sam Bingo!🙌 I’ve been trying to do that for a year now, but I couldn’t settle on an idea for any of the squares. Finally, last month I had sketched out this on cardstock paper, thinking I should try again at another traditional ink and marker drawing:

And I like where this sketch was heading. I was like what’s not to love with mixing classical spn with witch!Sam elements? But, I knew I should just take it over to digital instead of risking me screwing up the inking process with traditional mediums. So I took a picture of it and traced, adjusted, and fixed stuff in Sai. But, it took me so long to get it all done because I kept procrastinating with it. I was just, for some reason, struggling to work on it. Eventually, when I got to the end of the shading and all of the lighting stages I mainly just slapped it all down just to get it done. I wanted to be finished. It’s been hard to art lately. I can get spurts of art in every once in a while but it is not reliable.

The background was an image of a cornfield I found on google that I took to Ps elements 15 to motion blur and change the coloration, lighting, and shading. I really could not be bothered to do a hand drawn background here. And tbh, I don’t think it would have turned out as well if I did. I’m actually pretty happy with how the background turned out.

I probably should have Gaussian blurred Dean but, I didn’t want to take the time. The me right now is satisfied enough with it.

References that I used for Sam and Dean: For Sam’s face I referenced a flipped 7x06. Sam and Dean’s outfits/body’s and inside of Baby I referred to both 1x02 and 1x05 where Sam and Dean are in the car. For the wolf I referenced two google images of an orange-ish wolf that I thought looked pretty. (One that was just a side profile of the head. The other a full body side profile)

I have no idea how to approach the other eight squares, but I’m hopeful that I’ll get some ideas eventually. It’s a lucky thing for me that the bingo decided to drop the deadline. Otherwise none of this would have happened.

But, for now I can at least cross one off the grid.

I didn’t really listen to anything specific for this....well I did keep relistening/rewatching electricmonk’s vid for a little bit towards the end so that kind of counts. Too gorgeous of a vid not to rec anyways.

And, I think that’s it. Enjoy, if you can!♥♥♥

[witchsambingo]

Welcome!

This is the proship Witch!Sam Bingo. We are not affiliated with the other samwitchbingo.

I’m here to serve Witch!Sam justice in a shippy, explicit, wholesome, whatever, just in a way where everyone feels welcome and appreciated. Non shippers, gen fans, shippers. 

Really, everyone. You can request a bingo card here - starting September 30th 2021! The event will run for a whole YEAR - but if you have something Witch!Sam-ish that you have to get out in the world on SAMhain (hee hee I like this), feel free to start creating whenever you want!

The first round will end August 31st 2022! 

Rules & Template under the cut!

Everyone is welcome.

To make it short:

Basic etiquette applies!

Do not harass or bully others over ships, takes, headcanons. 

If you're working on a fill for another seasonal event and it happens to sync with one of our prompts, we'd be happy to have it!

UPDATED!! If you have the maximum sized card of 5x5 squares, you can maximum combine three fills. The 3x3 and 4x4 cards have a different rule - please only combine up to two squares! 

Goal of the bingo is to produce as much witchy Sam content as possible, it’s not a competetion against each other to fill as many squares as possible in ONE fic. There’s no trophy to win except the love, appreciation and mindless keysmashing of your fellow fans. :)

Your fic should have a minimum length of 300 words -> a drabble-ish length. There’s no maximum!

Please only request one bingo card at a time. When you’re done with the first, you can apply for a second one.

If there’s something on your Bingo Card you feel uncomfortable about to write for whatever reason, get in touch with me. (jackandthesoulmates[at]gmail.com or here)

Please tag with common sense; AO3 warnings should be used. 

Reblogging your fellow Bingo player’s creations is encouraged!

Use the tags #witchsambingo or #witchsamisforeveryone to be seen.

If needed, join our discord server. -> please get in touch for the invite!

Template

please use the following format for your works: click here for the google doc!

Happy Creating Everyone. 

Love,

[hotgirlsummersam]

your blood's gone bad: songs for boy kings

I bleed applause, I'm fading slow Alone, distraught, without control Believe there's freedom, took my soul I'll burn your ship alive and take the throne

I'm using this Boy King of Hell Sammy-inspired playlist as a fill for the boyking!Sam square on my @witchsambingo card, as well as for my @spnkinkbingo free space.

Warnings: some explicit language, sexy undertones here and there, dark themes throughout.

Listen HERE on Spotify. 🔥😈🔥

(there's a moodboard if you're into that.)

[fandom-hoarder]

Title: To Reclaim Love’s Obsession

Author: fandom-hoarder/ladygizarme

Rating: Explicit/18+

Created for: @witchsambingo ; square: Sam/Dean

@j3bingo ; square: Mind Control/Brainwashing

@lgbtqbingo ; square: Love Obsession

Pairing: Wincest (Sam/Dean)

Warnings: Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings

Additional Tags: incest, dubcon elements, witch!Sam, unauthorized magic, non-consensual magic, mind-altering magic, unintended consequences, minor character death, canon-typical spell blood-letting, possessive!sam, possessive!dean, anal fingering, anal sex, Episodes 11x13 and 11x14

Summary: Logically, it seems silly to be keeping the spell book a secret from Dean. Especially when Sam knows there’s not going to be anything they can actually use against Amara in it. Sonja died too easily to be that powerful, and her spells are too easily translated to be useful against God’s sister.

No, Sam knows why he really took it. And as soon as Dean is safely ensconced in his own bedroom, Sam escapes to his secret spell room adjacent to the archives and settles in to find a love spell for his brother.

Word Count: 3k+

Thanks to: @stillwaterseas for brainstorming with me, @cordellwinchesterwalker for cheerleading, and @padalelli for the awesome banner!! 💖💖💖

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35115535

[raidens-realm]

For @spncoldesthits January 2022

Title: ωιтнσυт α ѕтιт¢н

Author: raidensrealm 

Rating: Teen

Pairing: None

Characters: Sam, Dean, Eldritch Bunker

Word count: 2,159

Warnings: None Apply

@witchsambingo square filled: Naked Swimming

@deanandsambingo square filled: Voyeurism

@howbadcanitbebingo square filled: Where Did That Come From?

Summary: While Dean's on a hunt, Sam stays behind with a cold. The Bunker seems bent on ridding him of far more than a virus and only when he gets the situation under control does he begin to glean it's true intent.

[quickreaver]

For @spnovember and @witchsambingo 2k, mini-MotW, gen, for the prompts “buried (secrets)” and “blood magic” When the hurly-burly’s done, when the battle’s lost and won ... which witch is which? On AO3

[catnipster69]

fic: Sam Teaches Dean How to "Meditate"

Sam Teaches Dean How to "Meditate" Published: 2021-11-2 Words: 4184 Chapters: 1/1 by catnipster

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: Supernatural Relationship: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Sex Pollen, Domestic Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), First Time, Masturbation, Top Dean Winchester, Bottom Sam Winchester, Coming Untouched Language: English Collections: SPNovember Prompt Fest 2021, WitchSamBingo

@witchsambingo squares:  Sam/Dean, Chi Play, Solitary (other squares that could fit, but limited to 3: Sex Magic, Dean) @spnovember day 2: Witchcraft and Wonder

Summary:

Dean is feeling neglected; all Sam wants to do is "meditate" and read on his own. But what is this smoothie that Sam's always drinking?

[rpsocsandcanonohmy]

The Most Powerful Magic of All

Pairing: Gen Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 1499

Warnings: Curses, Sickness, Attempted Healing, Magic Gone Wrong

Summary:  While on a hunt, Dean gets hit with a dangerous curse. Sam tries to cure him but things don't exactly go according to plan.

@anyfandomfluffbingo Square Filled: Nursed Back to Health

@witchsambingo Square Filled: Grimoire

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38645226

[samsexualdeancurious]

Blood

Author: samsexualdeancurious

Created for @witchsambingo and @spnovember

Rating: Mature

Ship(s): None

Warnings: Self-harm, blood

Additional tags: Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Sam Winchester

Summary: Sam resorts to desperate measures to keep Lucifer out of his dreams.

Wordcount: 783

Link to AO3

Prompts: Whump, "scars &/or sigils"

---

Dean's not quite sure what he’s looking at but it doesn't look good.

"Dean," Sam gasps, staring up at him from where he's kneeling on the floor in front of the floor-length mirror on the backside of the closet door. He's trying to keep his voice calm, like rivulets of blood aren't sliding down his chest and dripping onto the motel towel clearly laid out across his lap to catch the mess. Like the panic and fear aren’t clearly visibly in his eyes. "You're back early."

"Bar was a dud," Dean says, closing the motel room door and turning the deadbolt. "Wanna tell me what's going on?"

Sam swallows hard, glancing down at his chest and the knife in his hand. "I- it's not what it looks like?"

"It looks like you're carving something into your skin."

Dean crouches down next to his brother and reaches out to grip one surprisingly delicate wrist in his hand. Sure enough, turning Sam towards the light reveals what Dean recognizes to be some kind of Enochian sigil. It’s circular and only partially complete, the unfinished bit carefully drawn with black marker, but he knows it immediately. Sam’s been wearing a talisman with the same symbol since they met up again after Dean’s trip to the future. He said it was something for protection, to keep Lucifer out of his head.

“Sam.” Dean keeps his voice as low and even as he can. Sam is pointedly avoiding his eyes. “Sammy. Look at me.”

Watery hazel-sunflower eyes meet his and Dean’s heart twists in his chest at the sight.

“Thought you said the talisman was working,” Dean says.

“I lied.”

Sam’s voice is so soft, so broken, and fuck. Dean should have realized. He should have noticed.

Dean slides his hand over Sam’s and tries to uncurl those long fingers from the knife but Sam’s grip just tightens.

“Give me the knife, Sam.”

“No. I have to - it has to be me. I have to complete it.”

“You don’t have to do anything.” Dean tugs at Sam’s fingers again but they don’t budge. “We’ll call Cas, call Bobby. Something that doesn’t involve cutting yourself up.”

“Dean.” Sam is gazing up at him with a desperation that feels like the knife is in Dean’s chest. His knife-free hand reaches up to grab at the front of Dean’s jacket and Dean’s mind rushes back to that creepy haunted hotel, where Sam got drunk out of his mind and begged Dean to kill him. “Please. Let me finish this.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Dean groans and drops Sam’s knife hand in favor of covering the hand on his jacket. “Sam.”

“Please.”

God fucking dammit.

“Fine. Fine. But I’m staying here and I’m cleaning those up when you’re done.”

Sam nods, more than willing to agree to those conditions. Dean stands.

“I’m getting the first aid kit,” he says firmly. “Dunno why you didn’t already have that out.”

When he comes back, Sam is slowly dragging the tip of his knife along one of his marker lines. Dean winces but Sam’s hand is surprisingly steady.

“What even is it?” Dean asks, lowering himself to the floor beside Sam.

“The Sigil of Ameth.” Sam’s eyes meet Dean’s. “Cas gave it to me.”

“Cas tell you to do this?”

Sam shakes his head. “No, this was… this was me. The blood and it being on my body - it should give it more power.”

“Should?”

“Let me focus.”

Dean falls silent, watching his brother intently. Sam is completely silent as he focuses on getting the lines exactly perfect. It’s a super intricate sigil, with a lot of little details he has to get exactly right, and Dean’s amazed once again at Sam’s talent for these things.

They sit in absolute silence until Sam drops the knife with a groan. Dean reaches out to steady him with a hand splayed on his upper back. He feels the muscles flex beneath his fingers, clenching when he grabs the towel to wipe away most of the blood.

“I gotcha,” Dean murmurs. “Lemme take care of you.”

Sam nods and sits still while Dean checks the cuts. They’re deep - deep enough to scar, which was probably the point, but not deep enough to need stitches. Very carefully done. Thank god for Sam’s perfectionism.

Dean cleans the cuts thoroughly, still seated on the scratchy motel carpet, and covers the whole thing with a big bandage. He pats the other side of Sam’s chest, right over the tattoo they share.

“You could’ve said something to me,” he says.

“Would you have even let me start if I had?”

Okay. Sam has a point there. “Whatever. C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

[kickingitwithkirk]

For @witchsambingo

Bingo Square: Black cat familiar!Jack

*all images found online

[mzkora]

“Weariness grew to hate, and hate to wrath...”

Fandom: Supernatural

Event: Witch!Sam Bingo @witchsambingo

Relationship: NONE

Rating: T for Teen

Prompt Fill(s): Castles/Ruins & Curses

Notes: Title is a quote from a poem entitled “The Serpent’s Head”. Shoutout to Hectatess from the Witch Sam Bingo Discord for being my beta for this prompt fill!

Summary: Sam goes on a hunt to free the ghosts of Lachlan Castle from the curse keeping them trapped.

Sam wandered down the corridor with his right arm out, the tips of his fingers skimming along the wall. The uneven stones buzzed, fizzing against his skin like an electric current. Clearly a warning to keep his distance. The walls themselves were soaked in malevolent magics. 

The curse hung in the air, poisoning the lungs. It seeped from the walls and windows like condensation. It lurked in the shadows and tried to trap the feet like quicksand. 

Castle Lachlan bore a curse, ancient and angry, down unto its very foundations. Or so the legend went and so far the lore held true. Sam had descended at least two stories underground and still had yet to reach the epicenter. He searched halls and corridors, slowly feeling his way towards the magical nexus that fueled the suffering of the spirits trapped within the castle walls and the horrors visited upon the living who dared trespass. Even the surrounding grounds were treacherous for the unwary.

But now underground, nearing the foundations of the castle, the stronger the sting prickling his fingertips. He kept on, slow and steady, his left hand still held in the Prana Mudra position. Above his two extended fingers floated a singular beam of light that lit his way. He reached the bottom of another flight of stairs and his light suddenly began to dim. The curse upon the castle trying to drain him of his vitality as it had so many others. 

This final corridor narrowed and straightened, leaving only one direction to go. Sam pulled his right hand away from the wall and shook out the burning ache in his fingers. Then with a series of single handed motions Sam silently cast a spell. He didn’t want to risk the stones hearing his intentions. He cycled through the ritual gestures the spell required, his dexterous fingers flowing quickly into the seven components of protection, ending with his right hand in the Karana Mudra position. 

His left hand light flared as the energy of his protection spell surrounded him in a web of shimmering lines like tree roots. The curse immediately reacted to his sudden brightness and his reinvigorated defenses. A wailing shriek echoed along the corridor, a growl from deep within the earth. Hungry and furious at being denied. 

Sam braced himself as an abrupt gust of wind pushed at him, threatening to yank him off his feet. The stench of grave dirt filled his nostrils. This was a place of death. Sam held his ground and pushed forward, fighting for each and every step he took. 

Eventually, he entered a small chamber, the original ritual space, and just like that the unnatural wind vanished, replaced with ghostly voices. Some he recognized from his earlier encounters upstairs, others he didn’t, but he refused to pay them any mind. They were but a distraction, a ploy to confuse and frighten him into lowering his guard.

The curse, however, had more in store for him. After all these centuries the curse was nearly sentient in itself. A wild animal fighting to the bitterest end. Out of the blue, pain erupted flashing from the soles of his feet up into his legs like claws tearing through him. Sam panted, sweat beading at his temples. He clenched his jaw and focused on his task while he burned, weaving a complex spell of gestures, the pain of the malignant magic gnawing at his gut. 

At last, Sam uttered but a single word and everything happened at once. Suddenly his perceptions expanded, his consciousness now coursing through the walls of the castle, the floors, the door and the battlements.

Souls of the castle’s victims caught the spark of his magic and joined in the scene, blazing like newborn stars until every corner was illuminated in the magic of the Light. Sam, his soul embedded in the frame of the castle and the foundations, uttered a spell without speaking, his magic working through the stones and the wood and his intention. His soul buoyed by his spell and the souls of the former victims, pushed the curse beyond its limits. With the power of his spirit and the strength of his spellwork he severed the dark magic that served as the curse’s lifeline, evicting the evil from the grounds.

The last thread snapped. 

With the final remnant of the curse purified, Sam freed the souls of the dead from the clutches of the castle. Souls like fireworks shot into the sky in all directions, ascending to Heaven in a great conflagration. Sam smiled, his joy seeping into the wood grains and rebounding off the walls like a voice. Slowly, his light diminished, his soul returning to his mortal form. No longer wood and stone and glass but flesh and blood and bone. 

He came-to on the floor of the ritual space enveloped in total darkness. He shuddered, his magic weak and his body shaking with the immensity of his spellwork. But he smiled, he laughed, breathless and quiet. For this darkness was a natural one, soft but neither welcoming nor standoffish. This was a darkness free from evil and malicious spells. This was just darkness. A peaceful darkness at the heart of Lachlan Castle.

[witchsambingo]

As October arrives, so do we! Merry meet! We are the WitchSamBingo, for all your inclusive, multi-media witch-related Sam needs.  Fic, art, edits, recipes, videos, we accept any creative endeavor. All ships and shippers are welcome, with appropriate tagging. And you have a year to play, but wouldn’t it be awesome to see a few fills on SAMhain? 

🎃  For more rules and information, please click HERE. We’re open for bingo card requests, and ready to roll!  🎃 (Pumpkin roll, that is :D) Feel free to signal boost, and use the tags  #witchsambingo or #witchsamisforeveryone so we can find you and share the magic!

[ncdover1285]

In a Cabin In the Woods

Title: In a Cabin In the Woods

Author: ncdover1285

Rated: T

Pairing: Sam/Jimmy, Dean/Cas, Jimmy/Cas, Sam/Dean, Cas/Dean/Jimmy/Sam, Sam/Cas/Jimmy

Word count: 1505

SPN Kink Bingo: Cas/Dean Jimmy/Sam

Witch!Sam Bingo: Cozy Coven, Fluffy Cuddling

Warnings: None Apply

Summary: Sam and Dean thought they were better off leaving the world behind. Going off into the forest to live off the land and practice their magic alone seemed like the best plan. They had never been so happy to be proven wrong in their life. Finding a set of twins they had so many things in common with was more than they could have ever hoped for. 

Link: AO3

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

Bingos Masterlist

J3 Bingo 

Any Fandom Angst Bingo 

Any Fandom Fluff Bingo 

Any Fandom Kink Bingo 

Any Fandom Dark Bingo

Any Fandom Goes Bingo 

LGBTQ+ Bingo

Witch!Sam Bingo

Any Fandom Omegaverse Bingo

Any Fandom AU Bingo

SPN Bloody Bingo

MF Bingo

Pure Tom Bingo

911 Bingo

Horrific Bingo

Hurt/Comfort Bingo

Sweet And Spicy Winter Bingo

Jacklesverse Bingo

SPN Kink Bingo 2024

AFG Custom - The Boys Bingo

AFG Custom - Boaz Priestly Bingo

AFG Custom - Teen Wolf Bingo

Bingo that are over

Tell Me A Story Bingo 2022

SPN Christmas Bingo 2021

How Bad Can it Be Bingo

SPN Kink Bingo 2022

SPN Kink Event 2023

SPN Kink Event 2023 /2

Walker Bingo 2021

[jackandthesoulmates]

WITCH!SAM BINGO MASTER LIST