#sam fanfic

[watermelonlipstick]

Roadside

This is so, SO overdue, but here’s my entry for @huffle-pissed‘s Vibes and Valentines challenge! My prompt was “Kiss me like that and you might regret it.” Thanks in advance for reading; I would love any advice or critiques!

Title: Roadside

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 5741

Summary: At least Sam’s there when the reader’s car breaks down. 

Warnings: smut with only the thinnest premise of fluffy story, dommy Sam

           He was hot—it was hot. The sun alone was nearly enough to make steam come off the blacktop itself, although you were nearly sure you’d heard that was an optical illusion most of the time. This certainly wasn’t; the huge, lean man in front of you, your car popped open behind him like a themed calendar. Sweat had slowly collected through the fabric of his t-shirt, the grey cotton first gaining a stripe down his back that had swelled to some Rorschach test by this point. You were staring when he ducked out from under the hood and had to pull yourself together to look as casual as possible when you realized he had already been talking. “It’s got a small, like, cylinder piece and a handle like a normal wrench?”

           “Oh, ah, sure,” you answered, rifling through the toolbox as quickly as you could to see if anything fitting that description popped out to you. You held up your best guess.

           “Perfect, yeah.” He held a palm out while keeping the other hand in the innards of the car, probably holding something in place. When you gave it to him, your fingers grazed his and you felt an electric shock blazed up your arm. Sliding the wrench in, his forearms rippled with tension under a light sheen of sweat as he cranked. After a few moments he drew back from the car, thoughtlessly dipping a hand under the hem of his t-shirt and lifting it as a makeshift handkerchief to dry his face and mouth. Seeing the taut muscles of his abdomen made you feel a little dizzy, and pulling the jersey against his body draped it almost pornographically off of him, the damp sticking in a way that left so little to the imagination he could have been dunked entirely in water. “Man, it’s hot as hell,” he said. “How long were you out here?”

           “Not that long, it wasn’t so bad.” Not if this was the reward.

           He nodded with an easy smile that showed he wasn’t so sure he believed you. “Well, it should be good now. Do you have a long way to go?”

           “Just to the next exit, my motel’s right off the highway.”

           Only a beat passed as he considered that. “I think maybe I should trail you? Until you get into town. In case this doesn’t hold out.” It startled you enough to pause before giving him a shy grin, and he seemed to mistake it for hesitation. “Or maybe to a gas station or something, not following you back to—”

           “No, no, that’s—that’s fine,” you answered a little too quickly. He smiled back at you, relieved. “Thank you so much, seriously. I don’t even know your name, you must think I’m a total asshole.”

           The dimples on both cheeks got even deeper as he extended his hand to you. “Sam. Don’t worry about it; I’m glad I could help.”

           It was warm as you shook it, as was everything else in the goddamned desert. Firm and gentle at the same time, calluses against the skin of your palm thick without being rough—a conscientious man who worked with his hands. “Then Sam, I feel like I should tell you that you have some grease on your chin.” Both his eyebrows lifted curiously as he tried to swipe blindly at it with also-dirty hands. You reached out, stopping just before touching his arm to stop him. “You’re—wait, hold on, you’re making it worse,” you giggled, the grey-black spot spreading along his jaw. He glanced over to the car, trying to use the reflection in the window to see himself. Rubbing for a couple seconds didn’t seem to help, and he held up a finger for you to wait.

           “I just need one sec and I’ll be ready. Why don’t you fire ‘er up and see if it feels okay to you?”

           You nodded, leaving the drivers’ side door open for some air flow and watching him as he walked back to the huge black muscle car he’d been in when he stopped on the road behind you. Bending down to use the mirror to help himself, he tried in vain to keep rubbing the grease off before seeming to lose patience and yanking his sweat-through shirt over his head, the cotton much more effective than his fingers alone. Your mouth dropped open a touch at the truly spectacular sight of him. His size was remarkable, of course, but it had been with his shirt on too. Without it, you saw that the glimpse of stomach you’d seen wasn’t a fluke; his whole body a model of sculpted, functional muscle, the swelled shoulders of a farmer or construction worker. Wholly masculine even without the dark hair collecting into a narrow stream, pouring down his stomach and dipping underneath a non-ostentatious belt buckle. He moved economically, his limbs showing an understanding of his body in space that felt almost elegant as he cleaned himself up and walked to the trunk, trading his now-balled grey shirt for a clean white one that must’ve been stored there.

           It was a shame, covering that work of art again. At the very least the freshly clothed man that walked back to you could’ve been out of any cologne ad, long lines of his legs in American jeans and boots kicking up desert dirt. You hoped you looked nonchalant by the time he got to you. “How’s it running?”

           “Seems okay, yeah.” You were going for coy but weren’t quite sure you were hitting it, not wanting to seem like a nutjob in front of him—Sam, a perfect name for this ultimate boy-next-door-knight-in-shining-armor, an accessible sense of rock-solidness in the sound itself. His lips split into a brilliant smile at the news.

           “Great! Okay, you ready, or do you want a minute?”

           “I’m all good if you are. I honestly can’t thank you enough, you totally saved me—”

           Sam waved it away. “It’s really nothing. You probably did me a favor, to be honest. My brother usually works on the car, doesn’t give me too many chances to stay sharp.” He smiled at your sheepishness. “So, I’ll just, ah, follow you?”

           And follow you he did. Trying your best to look casual in the event he could see you in the cab, you hunted around in your center console for any toiletries, finding a melted Chapstick that burned your finger when you opened it and a now-mushy stick of deodorant. Whatever cherry wax hadn’t spilled off your hand got rubbed into your lips, and you did your best to inconspicuously fish the deodorant through the neck of your shirt for a few swipes. You didn’t really know what you were even doing it for—Sam was, in all likelihood, going to ensure you weren’t so far from civilization that you’d die of exposure if the car broke down again and drive off to live whatever hot guy life he had, leaving you to fantasize about him in your stupid, scratchy motel bed.

           The drive gave you a second to muster up the courage to bring Sam and his gigantic Chevy to the parking lot of your motel. You reminded yourself you had nothing to lose, that if you didn’t go for it you’d likely never see this guy again anyway, your rejection an entirely private secret. By the time you saw the sign for vacancies, you’d almost convinced yourself it was a good idea, sticking your hand out the open window to wave Sam into the parking lot after you. When you saw his car park, you opened your door before you had a chance to talk yourself out of it.

           He met you about halfway between the vehicles. “Is something wrong?”

           Just an offer, don’t psych yourself out. “It��s really, um, hot. Out here. My AC’s barely cutting it and I’m betting yours isn’t either. I was wondering if you would want to, you know, cool off? Inside?”

           His eyebrows raised as he realized what you were asking, and his mouth formed around a silent word before he started over. “Ah—yeah. Yeah, okay,” he smirked somewhat disbelievingly. “Let me just, uh, lock the car, I guess.”

           You fought the urge to sell past the close and waited for him to return, feeling slightly more confident at the half-skip in his walk as he hurried to the Impala and back. The two of you walked into your room together somewhat awkwardly, standing almost close enough to touch without ever crossing the distance, reminded you were strangers in the middle of the afternoon, without cover of darkness or even a single drink to lubricate.  Inside was cool as promised though, the mechanically chilled air hitting you like a soothing curtain as you walked in. Waiting any longer would make you lose your resolve, so when he closed the door behind him a few seconds later you tried to channel someone extremely sexually confident and pressed the length of yourself up into him so that your lips could meet his.

           He seemed surprised by the force behind your push, pinning his body to the wall with a tiny grunt before seeming to become ravenous, his hands running through your hair desperately as he kissed you hard. Even with it the restraint in his movements was obvious as he curved down to meet you, his frame that much larger, stronger, this close to you. You felt something animal inside you flare at his hunger, and you let your nails run a little harder than you might’ve down his chest before biting his bottom lip, drawing it away from him as he groaned. Breaking away for only a beat to tug the back collar of his t-shirt over his head, you barely had enough time to relish your skin on that which you’d so admired back on the highway ahead of his flipping your positions and hitching below your thighs to pick you up, weight suspended between his arms and the wall. It made you gasp, and you felt Sam’s smirk against your lips. “Nice trick,” you breathed into the space between your mouths.

           “I have better ones,” he murmured, moving along your jaw to kiss-suck at your neck. You believed him entirely, feeling set alight already. A sharp sigh squeaked out when he ground some delicious trigger spot, and your head rolled back on your neck involuntarily. “Ow, fuck—” you snapped as your skull clunked hard against the wallpaper.

           “Shit, I’m sorry,” Sam said, reflexively covering the spot with paradoxical sweetness as his fingers dug beautiful perfect dimples into your ass. “Too rough, my bad—”

           “No, no.” It was too emphatic but you couldn’t be bothered to care. “Rough is good, I’m just clumsy.”

           He smiled, easy and light, letting his forehead tilt to touch yours as he chuckled. The grin was infectious as it spread to you through a brief, remarkably chaste kiss. “And you’re sure you’re okay?”

           You rolled your eyes. “Shut up,” you giggled as he tucked back into your neck, his pelvis tilting under you enough to feel the thick ache of him between your legs, through your jeans. After a minute or two, Sam’s arm behind your head folded somehow to become a seatbelt crossing your back and holding you to him as he walked you both to the bed, ease-dropping you down and ignoring the button and fly of your jeans in favor of shucking them off of you like some kind of cartoon, one incredibly hard pull taking them clean to your ankles as you tried not to shriek. By some miracle of modern elastic, your panties were jostled but still on as he covered your body with his, the heat of his body and the cold air of the room impossible contrast, and his fingers circled your neck. He didn’t apply any real pressure; his thumb rested in the hollow of your neck as he sucked on your tongue, the feeling of being completely overwhelmed almost too much to handle.

           The thumb brushed back and forth as Sam hovered for a moment, his fingers long enough to curl around the collar of your shirt with the same hand. “Off,” he growled simply, the smirk on his lips devilish. You grinned as you obeyed, shimmying out of not only your shirt but everything underneath it too, laying bare beneath him. He kissed you again before sliding down, teeth dragging lightly and stopping to catch tiny nips of skin as he moved to your hips, angling his broad shoulders and fitting through your legs to lick a firm stripe over the only fabric left covering you, the movement an electric shock.

           “I’m probably really—ah, sweaty,” you croaked.

           Sam just smiled, his tongue running along the inside of his molars before he drew it through the joint of your hip, his enthusiasm vibrating through his lips. He slipped then to taste a different kind of salt-tang, the sensation so much smoother than the panties pressed against it. When you began to rock against his glistening face, he took two fingers and turned them to hook confidently inside you, the rhythm of his mouth not changing at all as if this was choreography he’d practiced dozens of times. “Holy shit,” you breathed, grabbing a handful of Sam’s hair out of his eyes as he looked up at you. It was impossible not to squirm, and his other arm wrapped around your thigh like an iron bar, holding you in place while he worked magic before your body spasmed and clenched around him. He rode it out as you rode his jaw, leaving you a twitchy, heaving mess on the motel sheets.

           You caught your breath together, his head resting on your leg. Feeling slightly less jellied, you scooched back on the mattress until you could sit up, watching Sam slink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Swinging yourself around to get over to him, you slid into his mouth deep-dirty, tasting yourself on his lips and sinking as he clutched at your body, pulling you down onto his lap. The still-tender wet ground against his denim and God, could he really be that big zipped through your head while he pawed at your back.  You managed to get hold of the button of his jeans, undoing them as he realized what you were doing and leaned away to help you, his stomach flattening as he flicked them open and you rolled off of him. He rose in his kneel to get at the zipper until you grabbed his hands, stopping him to do it yourself. He got to his feet, about to move to the bed again, but you stayed down, freeing the length of him from the jeans and worn plaid boxers underneath.

           Fat drops of precum gathered on the tip of his cock tasted nearly sweet as they passed your lips, and Sam’s head rolled back. “Fuck, just like that,” he groaned as you took him into your mouth with considerable effort. You tucked an errant piece of hair behind your ear and he reached down, holding the rest back as you bobbed. He was a playground, opportunity to try all the things you’d ever been curious about with the feedback of unconscious pulsing in his hips and the gorgeous, filthy things coming out of his mouth. The end goal had almost slipped your mind completely when the hand in your hair pulled you all the way off of him, Sam looking down at you on your knees. Motel quilt on your back reminded you how close you still were to the foot board and he bent down to kiss you, curling your head back onto the fabric to scoop under your thighs again. You tried to help scramble back to the mattress but weren’t fast enough as he picked you up and put you onto the bed, sucking down your neck as you giggled through the springs bouncing. “Wanted to bend you over the hood of your car out there, you looked so fucking good,” he growled along your throat.

           “Oh yeah?” you breathed, the chills down your spine and the feeling of his body on yours more than enough to distract you from how lame that must’ve sounded.

           Sam didn’t seem to care, grazing his teeth along your pulse. “Couldn’t stop thinking about what you looked like under those clothes—” he paused enough for you to feel the grin against you as he sucked an especially sweet spot and your breath hitched. It might as well have been one of those hypnosis recordings you’d tried a couple times to fall asleep, his low murmuring and movements slowly tugging you under a cloud of pheromone coated endorphins. “Tasting you—seeing your lips around my cock—‘s even better than I thought.”

           You whimpered like a virgin until Sam’s mouth finally caught yours. He rocked crystal-hard against your thigh and a small, hungry note came from the back of his throat when you bit his lip, forcing him to break.

           “Do you have…?” he asked, so close to your face you would’ve been able to count his eyelashes.

           You realized the question required a response at the same time you understood what he was asking. “Ye—yeah, of course. Sorry.” Fishing your arm out from the tangle of your bodies toward the nightstand, you were nowhere close to getting to the little bag of toiletries lying there even as you twisted your torso.

           “Bag?” Sam asked, his arm easily long enough to cover the distance when you nodded. His skin moved across your nipples as he reached, on its own something you would’ve been able to daydream about for months to come. Tanned fingers flicked purposefully through a handful of tampons and tiny bottles before finding a foil package he ripped open with his teeth, the hand disappearing. You felt him nudge against you before he seemed to change his mind, bringing two fingers to into his mouth while the other wound in hair at the back of your neck.

           Sam’s forehead pressed against yours. “Before I get distracted.” The fingers circled before dipping inside at the same time his tongue entered your mouth. You felt remarkably like he was a predator playing with his food without caring one bit. If it had been more elegant, less primal, it could’ve been watching an expert piano player. Within a couple minutes you were clutching for purchase along his chest, his arms, anything to try to hold yourself together as you fell apart. “Look at me,” he said, the hold on your hair tightening a fraction. His eyes were lit from within when you met them, the need in them nearly frenzied as you came spasming around his fingers. “Good girl, just like that.” It was virtually guaranteed your nails would leave marks digging into him. “God, you’re so fucking hot,” he breathed as the heaving of your chest started to even out.  

           He brushed his cock back and forth against you, pausing. “Yeah?” he asked, something gentle there even with the dark hunger in his eyes. You couldn’t remember ever wanting anything more than you did in that moment, squirming toward him as though you physically couldn’t help it. Nodding made him grin, sly and cocky and excited, and he pushed into you.

           It was slow, at first—his quiet, confident self-awareness that you’d need it somehow not coming off like hubris. When you hooked your leg around his hips he started rocking into you, picking up the pace as you threw your head back. Soon he was pulsing fast, forcing you to brace yourself on the headboard behind you with outstretched arms. He curved forward, his teeth catching your neck to pull a groan from it. You couldn’t tell how much time had passed, endorphins suspending you in a frozen limbo you could’ve stayed in forever, when he scooped under your back and picked you up, lifting you as he laid down.

           His deft movements rearranged you like a doll, legs on either side of his waist. You nearly fell forward in surprise but the thick pillar of him kept you supported like a puppet, that much deeper than he’d already been with the added gravity of your body. Each pump skewered into you in the most delicious way; for a brief, flitting second of legible thought you felt you understood how people could feel so overcome they spoke in tongues. Taking each of your hips in the broad span of his hands, Sam began to ram up into you hard and fast, some tilt hitting you just right to fall apart again, your head falling back like you were being raptured. He slowed as you came down, wrapping his arms around you to pull in for a long, filthy kiss. “I could watch you all goddamn day,” he murmured against your skin.

           Again he moved you as you giggled giddily through the compliment, sliding you back on the bed and standing up. He came around the corner of the mattress and seemed to be making good on his promise, his eyes sliding over your body where you laid. Something about it, being seen like that by this glistening Tarzan, with his shining hair and perfect soft-rough balance, made you feel stripped past your skin to your bones, to the very core of yourself. An insane way to feel for a man you’d just met that day, but there you were.

           For what it was worth, the smile Sam gave you in that moment was equally as insane—you were sure then you weren’t imagining the affection there, that there was something just as sparkling in his hazel eyes as there was in the glint of his teeth. He stroked himself for a few seconds, the mere sight of your body a private piece of pornography, before grabbing behind your knees and yanking you down the mattress to where he stood, the backs of your thighs thudding against his and locking in place with his palms. The way he’d pulled you pressed his cock between your legs, as much a taunt as anything, the heat of it feeling like it throbbed against you. He rocked there, taunting with the grind before you drew back and slipped him inside you yourself. Knowing you wanted it that much made Sam bite his lip to keep from smiling too widely. With only a beat or two of buildup, he slammed into you—hands an iron grip on your thighs, pulling you in as much as he thrust forward, the force of it seeming like he could drill you right through the floor and you’d beg him to keep going.

           He took a thumb into his mouth and reached down without missing a single stroke, circling your clit. “You going to cum for me again?” he nearly murmured, low and steady.

           You would’ve done anything then, but more importantly, it seemed like your body had been crafted as a puzzle for him to take apart and would’ve obeyed without your input. He pounded harder, riding you through the inevitable before he came himself, the muscles in his arms and abdomen clenching while his breath got rough.

           The aftershocks had him bracing his weight on stretched, sculpted arms as his breathing evened out before he discreetly shucked the condom into a wastebin and laid down in one relatively fluid motion. If you hadn’t been so thoroughly spent, it might’ve even seemed a little too suave, a little too practiced in its coordination. He sidled up to you, spreading his wingspan in low-pressure invitation for you to lie along his side. It felt—gentlemanly, somehow; the pretense of sex already foregone, the ruse of manners drawn away to reveal a relaxed sincerity you weren’t expecting. It made the inappropriately profound crush you were developing on him worse, the hooks sunk in like ice picks.

           Sliding underneath the arm and resting your head on his chest felt treacherous, but it would’ve been more awkward not to. You half expected him to tip forward and kiss your hair, but the way his fingertips brushed back and forth on your bicep, holding you to him, was just as nice. The two of you laid for a few moments, letting your bodies soak in and the hormones float lazily through your bloodstreams.

           “Thanks for inviting me in,” he said after a few content minutes. His voice sounded like caramel, lilting enough you could hear the smile behind your head. Propping yourself up to your elbows, you grinned back at him.

           “Thanks for coming in,” you answered. He bit his lip, tracing the lines of your face with his eyes for a moment before looking up at the ceiling, letting his smile deepen enough to pull the dimples into his cheeks.

           Bashful silence reminiscent of some middle school dance hung in the air just long enough to start to feel awkward, and Sam cleared his throat. “Do you, maybe, ah, wanna get something to eat?” he asked, only a note off of breezy.

           The smile wiggled around on your face, threatening to beam. “Sure,” you finally answered. “I could eat.”

           He grinned back at you. “Cool. Let me just call my brother, I was supposed to be on my way to see him before you, ah, invited me over.”

           Sam did, politely covering himself with the top sheet as he sat up and grabbed his phone from the pocket of his discarded jeans. He poured into them fluidly like a glass of water filling, tucking the phone under his chin while he threw the button together and stood up. You watched him cross to the bathroom, likely looking for some privacy and throwing you a silent, unnecessary ‘sorry!’ before snatching his shirt off the ground and closing the door behind him. Watching the slink of his spine, the jeans low-slung on his hips, even his bare feet, you were nearly thankful for the physical barrier forcing you to stop staring. You stood on then-coltish legs and tried to pull yourself together as quickly as possible, trying in vain to fix your hair in a tiny compact mirror when Sam came out, throwing his t-shirt on. “Ready to go?”

           “If you are.”

           Walking together across the street was a pleasant kind of silence. Without having to fill the space with words, it the intimacy felt more lived in between the two of you than you might’ve believed if you weren’t experiencing it.

           You probably could’ve guessed he’d open the door for you, but it didn’t make it any less gentlemanly when he did. The heat of his hand was palpable hovering over your lower back but he didn’t outright guide you which was somehow more attractive, although it’s possible anything he did would’ve been attractive at that moment. After ordering, you leaned onto the table to rest your chin in your palms.

           “So, Sam. You always so chivalrous?”

           “Chivalrous?” he asked, the tip of his tongue flicking out to grab his straw.

           “I came three times before you were even inside me.”

           Sam choked on a sip of Coke, his eyebrows raising in shock as he coughed once through it, smirking as he swallowed. “I didn’t know that was chivalrous.”

           You grinned, cheekily pleased you’d managed to surprise him and moving your cup out of the way as you saw the waitress walking over. “What would you call it, then?”

           He kept smiling, dimples staying deep as he said a small ‘thank you’ to the waitress and graciously denied a need for anything else when she asked. When his eyes met yours again, they were coy. “Guess I hadn’t thought about it.”

           Picking up a fry and blowing on it, you rolled your eyes. “Sounds like a yes to me. Is that some pickup artist always-leave-them-wanting-more thing?” It was Sam’s turn to roll his, accepting the teasing as flirtatious as you’d hoped he would. “Or are you some mythical being luring women in on the side of the road?”

           Bedroom eyes looked back at you atop his smile. “If I remember, it was you on the side of the road.”

           “Don’t change the subject,” you said, hoping the heat of flattered embarrassment wasn’t obvious on your face.

           After a few beats he realized you were serious and stretched back in the booth, running a hand over the back of his hair. “I don’t know, it’s less—distracting, maybe? If I don’t, ah, you know, take care of it, I have a hard time not thinking about it.”

           “Take care of it? How romantic,” you laughed.

           “Whatever, you know what I mean. Easier to have fun if everyone is.” He rolled his eyes but seemed to be a good sport about the ribbing, grabbing a fry and biting it in half. “Plus it’s hot.”

           The sly smile he gave made you giggle like a schoolgirl, and he grabbed a few more fries. He really was handsome—gorgeous, even—with high cheekbones and those dimples, his neck the wide-strong of an athlete. You only knew you’d been staring when one of his eyebrows twisted up, silent curiosity of whether something was wrong.

           “So, um, what do you do?” you tried to cover, intently focusing your gaze on picking the next fry.

           Sam swallowed and took a sip of his drink. “I work with my brother.”

           “Same brother you called? Hope I didn’t mess with your job.”

           “No, I—” he grinned, slightly embarrassed at misspeaking. “I mean yeah, same brother. But you didn’t mess with anything. And even if you had, I ah…I wouldn’t have cared.”

           That made you flush and you struggled to think of something clever to say before deciding you couldn’t come up with anything, wishing you could’ve held onto the spunky, raunchy girl you’d been able to put on before you got lost traveling his face. “What do you guys do? Are you from around here?” Stupid, don’t be clingy.

           He swallowed and you worried maybe you had mis-stepped. “Not from around here. We’re, uh, exterminators? Sort of exterminator consultants.”

           “Sexy,” you smirked, enjoying the reappearance of his dimples.

           “Family business, I guess. It’s what my dad did.” He pivoted abruptly, clear but sweet Not Interested In Discussing in his tone. “My guess is you’re not from around here.”

           “Oh really? What gave it away?”

           His eyebrows crooked incredulously. “The motel?”

           You hoped the ‘fuck, right’ didn’t show on your face too clearly, winking as if it was always a joke rather than a chunk of your brain shutting down for how badly you wanted this plate of fries to last forever, to split a milkshake with two straws like teenagers after a sock hop. “Maybe you should be a detective, Mr. Exterminator.”

           He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

           You’re losing him. “You must get along with your brother pretty well to work together.”

           “Yeah, we—yeah, we really do. We’re a good team, I guess. Makes it a lot easier to be on the road together all the time.”

           His fond smile was reassuring both in the way it seemed like you still had his attention and in the sweetness his being close to his brother showed. “How long have you guys been on the road?”

           “A while. Where are you from? Close to here?”

           You took a sip of your drink to stall. “No, not close really. I’m just passing through.”

           He considered that with a downward turn of his lips. “To where?”

           A deep breath blew out of your nose, continued inability to answer this question one of the recurring frustrations in your life. Something about Sam felt right, though—open, like he would understand—and if he didn’t get it, you probably wouldn’t ever see him again anyway. No harm, no foul. “To nowhere, really. You know, ‘finding myself’ or whatever,” you said, rolling your eyes to show you understood how it sounded and that you thought it was lame too even if secretly, sincerely, it didn’t. ‘Finding yourself’ may have been less accurate than ‘running’, but if you were worried about scaring this guy off by wondering what he did for work, you certainly weren’t going to tell him your whole life story right off the bat.

           Sam looked at the table, slowly rotating his glass with his fingers. “Well if nowhere is ever close by, it would be cool to, ah, see you. Again.” He finally glanced back up when he was done speaking, as though he could handle the aftermath but not the implied question itself.

           The heart thumping in your chest seemed not to remember this guy had already been inside you, ohmygodhelikesme bounding through your bloodstream and drawing a smile across your face like a crisp clean sheet. “I think that could be arranged.”

           You could’ve written a bubblegum pop ballad for those dimples. Sam’s tongue moved along the underside of his molars as he grinned across the table.

           He paid the check without looking at it, leaving a fold of bills on the table and walking you back across the street to the motel room door like he was dropping you off at home after a date on a school night. Standing at the threshold, you struggled with the feeling that you didn’t want him to leave, feeling ridiculously like you were saying goodbye to someone you really knew, not this random hot guy who’d fixed your car and blown your back out.

           “So. See you later?” Sam asked, ruffling the hair at the back of his neck nervously.

           You swallowed and nodded before pressing to your tiptoes and kissing him deeply, slipping your tongue into his mouth and biting his lower lip, dragging it a bit as you stood back. “See you later.”

           Sam smiled with his eyes closed. “Kiss me like that and you might regret it,” he murmured, his hand lingering on your lower back for a beat before dropping.

           “Somehow I doubt that,” you grinned into the heat of him.  

           It would’ve been enough, the memory of the day and the way he took a few steps backward like he couldn’t bear taking his eyes off you even a beat too early. But about fifteen minutes after you got back into your room, your phone went off:

-

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[sams-sass]

Date Night

Hi there!! This is just a fun little fic about the boys taking you on a first date. You get double trouble on this one!! I hope you enjoy!!!!

Pairings: Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader

Warning: Kissing, implied smut, date night, flirting, swoon worthy Winchesters. 

Sam

Your hands fell to your sides, letting your hair tumble to its normal state, and an exasperated grunt left your mouth. You bit your lip and ran your fingers through your hair again. 

"I don't know!" You whispered to yourself. "I guess I could, like, pin the sides..." You mumbled, confusion and frustration evident in your voice.

"Hey, Y/N-" Dean said, opening your door and entering your room. 

"Dean! What the hell, man?!" You shouted, your hands flying to your body. 

"What are you doing?" Dean asked, ignoring your outburst. He looked you over, his face wrinkling in confusion. You stood in your socks, underwear, and tank top. Several dresses, still on their hangers, were piled on your neck. Makeup, hair tools, and nail polish were scattered across your desk. More clothes were thrown onto your bed. Shoes were everywhere. 

"Knock much?! Damn!" You shouted at him again, disregarding his question. You placed your hands on your hips and leaned to the side. The motion made the hangers rattle comically together on your neck. 

"Going somewhere?" Dean asked. A cocky grin crossed his face as he leaned against the door frame, his arms folding on one another. 

"Shove off, Dean. I am trying to get ready." You explained, instantly regretting your words. 

"Ready? Ready for what?" He asked, and you internally groaned. You let out a large breath and let your shoulders drop dramatically. 

"If you must know...I have a date." You said, trying to keep all emotion out of your voice. 

"A date?!" Dean's eyebrows shot up, his eyes growing wide. "A date with who?" 

"Sam." You mumble whispered, your lips barely parting. 

"What?" Dean asked, his head leaning forward as his brow furrowed. 

"Sam." You said slightly louder but not any more clear. 

"Y/N." You watched as Dean's face moved from confusion to "I'm done with this." 

"Oh my god, alright! Sam! Ok! Sam! Your brother and I are going on a date."  You exclaimed, your hands flying around. 

"Wha-" Dean started, his face dropping in disbelief. A small laugh left his mouth. 

"You and Sam? Sam and you? You two? Together?" He rambled, his index finger pointing between you and the air beside you. 

"Get out! I have to decide what to wear." You returned to the pile of clothes on your bed and began rummaging through everything again. 

"Can I help?" Dean practically jumped in excitement. He quickly walked over to you, looking at the clothes next to you. 

"What? Ew! No! Go away!" You shoved him playfully, a giggle falling from your lips despite your best effort. Dean leaned back, swatting your hands away. You landed another punch to his arm, and Dean held up his hands in mock surrender. A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. 

"Aw, come on, Y/N/N!!" He groaned, using your nickname against you. 

"Fine." You snapped. You picked out your two favorite outfits and lay them next to each other. You turned to face him, tilting your head to the side. 

"Which one will make your baby brother want to make me scream his name in pleasure until the early morning hours?" You asked, a confident smirk settling on your lips. Dean's smile dropped, his face going pale. His nostrils flared, and his features pulled into those of disgust. 

"Oh, what the hell? I thought we were having fun. And then you gotta go and ruin my whole year like that? I don't think I will ever recover from this. I am grossed out." He closed his eyes and shook his head. 

"So...the red one?" You asked, trying to control your laughter. Dean looked at you, his face stern and impassive. His eyes held yours for a beat. 

"Yeah. The red one." He mumbled before turning to leave your room. 

"Thank you!" You called—an arrogant cheer in your voice. 

"I need a drink," Dean said before closing your door behind him. 

You pulled the stack of hangers off your neck and turned to grab the red silk top and black jeans. It was simple, but it gave you confidence which you desperately needed right now. The silk fell over your body, landing at the waistband of your jeans. The shirt wasn't tight-fitting, but it wasn't loose, either. It hugged your body in all the right places and allowed for some wiggle room when needed. Spaghetti straps led to an open back that stopped right at the curve of your spine. You smoothed your hands over the fabric and bit your lip. Nerves wrecked your entire body. You could play it cocky with Dean, but the truth was- you were absolutely terrified. 

You couldn't believe this was happening. A date. With Sam. You closed your eyes and thought of all the missed moments. All the stolen glances that seemed to go on for hours. All the almost touches. All the yearning and aching in the dark hours, hands fisting the cold sheets next to you. You were finally living the night you had planned in your head so many times. Tonight was the first time you could allow yourself to fall into all things Sam. 

A smile grew on your lips just thinking about that fateful conversation. 

Last night

You sat curled over a book in the library. You were so focused on reading that you didn't hear Sam's footsteps in the room. 

"Hey." He greeted you softly so as not to startle you. You lifted your head, your eyes finding his. 

"Hey." You replied back. 

"What are you reading?" He asked, sitting down across from you. 

"Myths about the sky, constellations, and stars." You read from the front cover. 

"Oh! I recently read that. Very interesting." He said, crossing his arms on the table. 

"It is! I didn't know there were so many myths and stories about the stars from all over the world." You closed the book to give Sam your undivided attention. 

"Yeah, I didn't either." Sam suddenly looked nervous. He scratched the back of his neck, looking over his shoulder for something. 

"Hey, um. How far are you in the book?" He asked, turning back to look at you. 

"Not far at all, I just started. Why?" You tilted your head in question. 

"I thought...Since I have already read it, I could teach you. I could teach you what I know." Sam stumbled over his words. 

"Teach me?" You asked. Your eyebrows came together on your forehead. 

"Yeah... there's a telescope, and I could show you the stars and tell you their myths." Sam tried to explain himself. 

"Oh. That might be fun, yeah." You said, feeling your face relax in understanding. 

"Ok, so tomorrow night. You, me, and the stars. It's a date." Sam said, standing up. Your eyes grew wide. 

"Ok!" You agreed, not allowing yourself to get hopeful and expecting. Sam smiled at you before walking away. He made it about five steps before he turned around. 

"I don't think I made myself clear," Sam said. His voice sounded authoritative and raw. His pointer finger came up to emphasize his words. 

"Oh." You said, feeling your heart drop into your stomach. He returned to you, placing one hand on the table and the other on your cheek. Your body froze, and your mind stopped. 

"Y/N," Sam said, his voice making you look him in the eye. "Will you go on a date with me?" He asked. He was so close. Hazel eyes stared into yours. His dimples were in full effect. How does one breathe again?

"I would love to." You whispered. 

Now

You couldn't stop the feelings parading through you as you did your makeup and hair how you liked. This was heavy. In a hunter's life, it wasn't just knowing that the other person felt the same. It was the all-encompassing and cumbersome knowledge that, at any moment, the world around you may crumble. Death and pain searched for you. Icy and cold shadows constantly filled your soul with dread. What if they were ripped away from you? What if you let yourself go there? Feel those feelings that you had gotten too good at repressing. What would happen if you lost them? What would become of you if the one person you did all this for was no longer there? 

You paused. Closing your eyes and letting yourself have one more "what if?" What if it all worked out? What if you could have both? A hunter's life and the warm and safe arms of a lover? What would happen if you actually got what you wanted?

You stood and made your way into the library, knowing that's where you would find him. You inhaled and exhaled one full breath before rounding the corner. He stood with his back to you. He wore a red and black flannel with black jeans. His hair looked freshly combed, and you could already smell his aftershave. 

"Hey, Sam." You said softly. 

Sam turned and saw you waiting for him. A red silk top lay across your torso. Black jeans accentuated the curves of your body. You stood with one arm crossed over your middle, your hand wrapped around the opposite forearm. You pinned some of your hair back and graced your face with makeup. But Sam noticed something else. He couldn't look away from the nervous yet excited glow in your eyes. His lips parted, everything he had ever known leaving his mind for a fleeting second of blissful oblivion. 

"Y/N." Your name was the only thing his mind brought to conscious thought. 

At the sound of his husky and weighted voice romanticizing your name, a lovestruck grin blessed your lips. He crossed the room, stopping a few inches in front of you. He took your chin between his index finger and thumb, lifting your face to his. 

"You look beautiful." He whispered for only you to hear. You beamed at him, his thumb moving to run along your jaw. 

"Thank you." You said, swallowing thickly. You lowered your eyes to look at him. A small giggle left your mouth. 

"We match." You said with a breathy laugh. Sam's brow furrowed, his head lowering to look both of you over. His face then fell into an amused chuckle. 

"Red and black. I guess we think alike." He smiled at you. 

"No higher compliment than to think like you, Sam." You said back. Sam smiled, looking away sheepishly. 

"Ready to look at some stars?" He asked. 

"Yeah." You answered with an excited nod. 

Sam took your hand within his and led you outside. The air was soft and calm against your exposed arms. The evening breeze still held onto the last of the day's heat. Its melody played off your and Sam's bodies. Sam's skin warmed you. His large and powerful hand encased yours with tender and gentle care.

"Where are we going?" You asked, leaning against his shoulder. 

"I have a little place set up," Sam said, pointing down the path. "It isn't much farther." 

You walked a little more, listening to the crickets and the sounds of the night. Finally, you arrived at your destination. The path opened to a small field. The wild and swaying grass was framed with trees and bushes. The moon was brilliant. Full and glowing. Its iridescent and ivory splendor bathed everything in its milky radiance. There was no cloud to be seen, the sky an endless black cloak. The stars looked like glitter, hand tossed into the atmosphere by the gods. A creek tumbled playfully over stones and sticks. The water reflected the moonlight back to itself. The world seemed to have created this just for you and Sam. 

"Oh my god, Sam." You said. Your voice was breathy and light as you turned to look at him. "This is amazing." 

"I thought of you as soon as I saw it." He looked into your eyes as he spoke. "I want to share this with you, Y/N. You are the only person I want to be here with." 

"I want to share this with you too, Sam." You agreed, feeling your heart flutter. 

He took your hand again and walked you over to the middle of the field. A blanket lay in the grass, a telescope propped directly in the middle. The book you had been reading sat with colored Post-it notes sticking out from its pages. A few candles decorated one corner of the blanket; their flames danced in the light wind. Settled on the other side of the telescope was your favorite snack and drink, which you didn't think you had ever explicitly told him. 

"Sam..." You started, looking at the attention to detail he minded for your date together. "You did all this for me?" 

"I told you." He said, looking over at you. "There is no one I would rather be here with." Your eyes found his. You watched as his eyes dropped to your lips, a soft breath leaving him. For a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you. But then, ever in control, Sam smiled at you and turned to pick up the book. 

"Shall we?" He asked, his long fingers turning the pages. 

"We shall." You nodded, walking to stand next to him. Sam stood before the telescope, bending down to peer into it before signaling for you to look. 

"Ok." Sam started. "You are looking at what we call 'the big dipper.' This cluster of stars has different stories all over the world. Almost every culture has lore created about these stars. My personal favorite is from Greek Mythology. Like some of the other cultures, the Greeks saw a bear with a smaller bear beside it. Well, legend has it that the King of Arcadia had a beautiful daughter name Callisto. Zeus spotted her mingling with Artemis and knew he simply had to have her. So, he seduced her and made her one of his many lovers. He tried to keep the affair secret from his wife, Hera, but after Callisto gave birth to Zeuse's son, Hera learned their secret. As punishment, Hera turned Callisto into a bear and banished her to wander the wild woods alone and frightened forever. As time passed, Zeus and Callisto's son, Arcas, grew into a strong and wise hunter. One day he was wandering the woods when he stumbled upon a bear. This bear did not look like the rest; Arcas was confused and scared. His mother, in bear form, recognized her son and began to try to speak to him. Arcas saw the bear grunting and coming toward him. So he raised his spear in self-defense. Zeus intervened, not wanting his son to kill his mother. He changed Arcas into a bear as well so they could live together forever. As a kind of "screw you" to Hera and to protect them from harm, he placed them together among the stars. However, Hera got the last word. She forbade them from ever resting below the earth. And that is why you can never see them set below the horizon like the other constellations." Sam explained the story, his voice even and calm. You straightened your back and turned to face him. You thought he would be reading from the book, but his face was turned toward the sky. He had memorized this. 

"I like that story." You said, giving him a soft smile. 

"Me too." Sam agreed, his kind eyes settling on you. 

"Here, this is one of my favorites," Sam said. His eyes turned to the book as his long index finger flipped to a page with a pink Post-it note. He then grabbed the telescope and pointed it where it needed to go. You peered through at a massive collection of stars. Lines and connections could be drawn within them to make several shapes. A soft breath left your mouth at its beauty. 

"Ok, this one is kind of long." Sam started, clearing his throat. "This is a cluster of constellations depicting one story. The love story of Perseus and Andromeda. Andromeda was the child of King Cepheus and Queen Cassiopeia. The Queen was very vein and often boasted that her daughter was more beautiful than the sea nymphs. This angered Posiden, so he retaliated by sending a sea beast to their shores. Many tried to conquer the beast, but all failed. Desperate for answers, the King consulted an oracle who suggested he sacrifice his daughter. King Cepheus and Queen Cassiopeia accepted this fate and sadly put Andromeda in shackles and left her for the beast. Luckily, Perseus was flying by on Pegasus, fresh from killing Medusa. He instantly fell in love with the beautiful and kind Andromeda. He struck a deal with the King and Queen; he would kill the beast if they would allow him their daughter's hand in marriage. They agreed, and Perseus confronted the beast. There is some speculation in the lore, but I prefer the legend that he used the head of Medusa to turn the beast into stone. The remains of which can still be seen off the coast today. The King and Queen kept their word and allowed Perseus to marry their daughter. They married and ventured out to explore Greece together. Perseus is thought to be the ancestor of the Persians. He founded Mycenae, where he made Andromeda his Queen. Perseus and Andromeda had nine children: seven sons and two daughters. Athena promised Andromeda to place her in the sky after her death. And she did. She is placed next to the constellation of Perseus. Making their love truly immortal. Their story is forever written in the stars." Sam was once again looking toward the sky. His face was pensive and soft as he stared into the vast sky before him. 

"I like listening to you." You said, your body melting. 

"I could keep going," Sam said, facing you. 

"How many more you got?" You asked, looking down at the book between his hands. 

"However many more you want. Whatever you ask." He said.

"Tell me a story, Sam." You said, your words were breathy. 

Sam smiled and told you all the epics and myths of the sky. Your mind swirled from the fables and Sam's poetic and lyrical voice illustrating the stories of gods. Of monsters. Of good and evil. Of everlasting love forever illuminated in the sky. Every question you pondered, Sam riddled with you. His knowledge and memory of the legends he guided you through gave you a glimpse of his brilliant mind. His words were profound, with intricacies and endless analysis. You listened to him wax and wane the prophecies set forth by those before you. Heroic battles with swords, shields, and bloodshed. Tears forever imprinted into the stars to heed the warning of history repeating itself. Sam told you tales of chariots and fire burning the milky way into the sky. And of weeping women forced to rotate the earth, watching their mortal lovers below. The stars of Obrian and the seven sisters he loved. 

The tension built between you as Sam grabbed your hand to point directly at a specific star. His body standing behind yours. The buttons on his flannel tickled your bare back, causing a tingle to trace down your spine. You turned and placed your hands on his chest. Silently asking him to not let go. His hands ran down your arms, wrapping around your waist and pulling you close. You took his face between your palms, allowing your fingers to twist into his hair. Swallowing, you tried to calm your heart. 

"I'm scared." You confessed, looking down at the ground. Sam took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, pulling your face to look at his. 

"I am, too," Sam whispered; the raw fragility in his words sent a shiver down your spine. "But I realized that I may be scared of the unknowns, but I am utterly terrified of living the rest of my life without you." 

"Sam..." You breathed. 

"Y/N..." He said back, his voice sounded thick and deep. Your heart sank into your stomach, and if Sam wasn't holding you up, you thought you might fall over. You took in a shuttering breath and bit down on your lip. Could it be? Finding everything you ever wanted under the starry sky? He placed his forehead against yours and bent slightly at the knees. Your mouth opened to his before his lips made contact. He kissed you with the familiarity of a loved blanket and still all the excitement of a newly blossoming flower in springtime. He listened to every breath and gasp that fell from your lungs. His mind committed them to memory as his body followed your every wordless instruction. You fell into him. Finally, closing the door to all your anxieties and fears and letting yourself be consumed by Sam. Just Sam. 

You knew then that your fates were sealed. Under the endless sky of lovers' tales, your burning and aching souls finally wed. 

You didn't realize how long you were with Sam until the sky blushed gold and the stars settled into their slumber. The sun rose over the trees, warming the lands in its gleaming light. As dawn fell over the earth, your heart also basked in the promise of a new day. 

Dean

You held your gun up to your chest, controlling your breathing as best as possible. There was a painful burn in your legs from crouching for so long. Dean was kneeling beside you; his hot breath fanned your neck in the small space. He smelt like whiskey and leather, not helping the sweat already coating your skin.

"I'll go left. You go right." You said, turning your face slightly towards his. He was so close. His angular nose practically touching yours. You swallowed and looked away, waiting for him to answer.

"Ok." He agreed. You went to stand when you felt his hand wrap around your bicep, pulling you toward him.

"Wait!" He said almost too loudly. "If we make it out of here...do you want to, like...do something?" He asked suddenly.

"...what?" You narrowed your eyes at him.

"Ya know...like...i-i-if were good. Do you want to, like...hang?" He tried to clarify himself.

"Hang?" You repeated him. "Dean, we hang out all the time." You furrowed your brow.

"Yes. But I mean just you and me. Together. Do you want to do something together?" He asked. The wheels in your brain stopped turning as you put the pieces together. Oh...

"Dean. Are you seriously asking me out in the middle of a vamp nest?" You were both stunned and annoyed. Dean looked at you, his face neutral and nervous at the same time.

"Yes." He said flatly. You stared at him with an open mouth for a moment.

"Ok...yeah...sure...can you please just kill the vampires?" You asked like a mom negotiating with a child.

"Yes," Dean said again, this time with his usual cocky tone. You held your tongue between your teeth and let out an annoyed breath.

"Good." You said before charging out of your hiding spot.

You don't think you had ever been that efficient. As you left the decaying barn, your machete dripped blood onto the wood floor beneath you. Your chest heaved with heavy breaths. You dramatically wiped the blood off your cheek with your forearm. Sam stood outside, fighting the vamps that had managed to escape. His jacket swung with him as he took on four at a time. You shuffled over and stood beside him, your mind fuzzy and distant.

"He asked me out." You said.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sam asked through exhausting breaths. "Help me!"

"Dean asked me out." You said louder. Sam looked genuinely surprised momentarily before his eyes grew wide, and fear crossed his face.

"Duck!" He practically screamed. It was probably your hunter instincts kicking in, but you ducked down just in time for Sam to behead the vamp running right toward you.

"Y/N. I do not have time for this." Sam said, his voice annoyed and short. You turned towards him to tell him to make the time when a vamp lunged at him.

"Holy!" You screamed, your mind and body finally connecting. Your machete swung with precision, taking the head clean off.

"Thanks." He said with a smile.

"You too." You laughed.

"Ok. You have my full attention." Sam said, grabbing you by the shoulders.

"I'm going on a date with Dean." You said, your face breaking into an enamored grin as you slowly realized yourself. A lopsided smirk settled over Sam's lips.

"I'm happy for you." He said sincerely, and you let out a girlish giggle.

You turned left and right in the shitty mirror at the motel. Your face scrunching in apprehension and uncertainty. You had gone shopping, finally allowing yourself some clothes you liked, not just clothes that were easy for killing monsters and riding in a car for days. You smoothed your hands over the creamy corset top you had chosen. Blue flowers decorated the bodice while silk trim outlined your breasts. You spun around again, ensuring nothing was on your jeans, and breathed nervously. You slipped your feet into black combat boots with zippers and buckles that rattled when you walked.

As you styled your hair and makeup, you let your mind wander to Dean. When you first met the boys, there was an attraction to Dean instantly. He was gorgeous. Perfectly angeled and sharp features softened by a smattering of unpredictable freckles. Large eyes that were earthy in color, like moss or sage. How they always found you in the rearview mirror. His hardened expression relaxed at the sight of you. It was a constant burden to not stare back at him. To let your eyes drift from him down to his soft and plump lips. You would sometimes find yourself practically tasting the alcohol left between them as he took a swig from the bottle. Your mind strolled through daydreams about his mouth. Perfectly straight and white teeth, biting down on his bottom lip. His pink tongue tasting you. Letting himself feel all the things he pushed down for one moment of pure fervor and passion.

Yes, you were obviously physically attracted to Dean...and after many nights of Jack Daniels and beer, you might have even told him so once or twice. But it had grown into so much more. There was a softness to Dean that he often tried to deny. His presumptuous and confident outer shell made it easy for you to laugh and joke with him. But his affectionate and sensitive inner core is what caused your heart to stutter.

As you checked yourself one last time, there was a knock on the door. You took a big breath into your lungs and relaxed your shoulders. Now or never. You opened the door and immediately made eye contact with him. Dean's face fell into that of a love-struck teenager. His eyes were wide and alert as his lips parted. His sharp features eased, his entire body open and vulnerable to you.

"Y/N...I..." His husky voice breathed your name. He took a step toward you, cupping your cheek with his palm. "You look beautiful." He said slightly louder.  

"You clean up good, Winchester." You flirted. You weren't lying. Dean looked utterly delicious in his black button-down and the light jeans.

"Come on," Dean said with a tilt of his head. He grabbed your hand into his and pulled you into the parking lot. The two of you entered the Impala, and Dean began driving into town.

"Where are we going?" You asked, turning your body to face his.

"I'm not telling," Dean said with bravado.

"Ok...I'm excited." You answered.

About ten minutes later, Dean pulled into a western-themed Mini Golf center. You turned and smiled at him.

"I'm gonna kick your ass." You said with an arrogant laugh.

"In your dreams. Prepare to be demolished." Dean shot back, already getting out of the car. You turned to grab your purse when the passenger door opened. Dean stood with his hand stretched out. You slid your fingers across his and let him pull you out of the car.

You got your clubs and balls and walked over to the first hole. Dean went first, his ball barely making it over the slight hump in the grass. You laughed and set your ball down on the marker. You wiggled your hips slightly, getting your feet right.

"Don't do that to me," Dean said from behind you. You looked at him over your shoulder, giving him your most innocent face.

"I couldn't possibly know what you mean." You said, batting your eyelashes and running the tip of your tongue over your teeth. Dean pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, letting his teeth run over it before it bounced back into place.

"Just hit the ball." He said low and heavy.

"With pleasure." You responded.

You played more holes, and with each passing one, you felt more and more relaxed. You were so comfortable around Dean. You could say anything to him, joking or not. He was your best friend and your partner. The two of you laughed loud. You almost cried when Dean shot all his balls into the small creek on the fourth hole. He couldn't stop the laugh that erupted out of him when your ball hit the windmill blade, sending it straight back to you. Dean got playfully angry when you made three consecutive shots, and he made none. And after it had taken you about six tries to get one ball in, you jumped into his arms, laughing when you finally got it.

You laid down the weight of the world for a moment and enjoyed each other. The evening air kissed your lingering stares and playful touches. You and Dean found an easy rhythm as the sun descended below the horizon. The picturesque sky burned with intense oranges and soft pinks. The shadows of the low light cast Dean in an even more dramatic and contoured hue. The breeze was delicate and silken as it danced over your uncovered skin. You shivered slightly as you placed your ball onto the mark and lined up your club.

"What kind of stance is that?" Dean asked.

"Same one I have had this entire time." You said.

"No wonder you are losing. That looks wrong." He assessed, tilting his head and body to look you over.

"I'm sorry, Tiger Woods. Please forgive me." You joked. Before you could take a breath, Dean stood behind you. He slid his hands down your arms, covering your hands with his. His body pressed into you, so close that his chin touched your shoulder when he began to talk.

"Relax." He whispered. You breathed and let go of the tension keeping you stiff. You felt your body melt into his. He stood firm as you leaned against him. Dean took a breath into his lungs, his exhale tickling your back.

"Does that feel better?" He asked, leaning even more forward to look at your face. You raised your eyes to his, holding them before you spoke.

"It's perfect." You whispered.

"I agree," Dean answered, his gaze flicking between your mouth and eyes. A calm wind blew past you, your body shaking from the cool air.

"Are you cold?" Dean asked. You simply nodded your head.

"They have an indoor thing, I think; let's go." He released you from his tight grip. He took your club into his hand and wrapped his opposite arm around your shoulders, leading you toward the building. You snuggled into him, taking in his musky and manly scent.

Inside was a saloon-style bar for adults and some stuff for kids in the back. You and Dean sat at the bar, looking at all the decor, trying to inspire an old-west vibe. You each ordered a drink and turned to face one another on your stools. Over Dean's shoulder, you saw a photography set up complete with costumes and backdrops.

"I have an idea." You said with a wicked grin. You grabbed his hand and practically yanked him off the stool and through the bar. Dean looked up and immediately shot you a bitch face.

"No." He said.

"Yes." Was all you replied.

Dean put the outfit over himself, wrinkling his nose at the scratchy fabric. He returned to the bar and gave the photographer a shrug before placing his beer on the counter. He rested his elbow on the bar and waited for you. About five minutes later, you came back into the room. You wore a black lace corset that hugged your frame perfectly. Billowing black and burgundy skirts flowed out from your hips. The right side was hiked up and tucked into your waist, showing off black tights and heels. Layers of pearls hung from your neck, swaying as you moved. Your hair had been pinned, a burgundy feather sticking out from behind your ear. The strap of your left shoulder fell as you walked over to Dean. His mind went blank. The world fell away until all that was left was you. He lost his balance, his elbow falling off the bar, sending him stumbling forward. His hands wrapped around your waist to steady himself. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, looking up at him with large eyes.

"You know this is like really hitting all my fantasies right now?" Dean said, his voice dense and syrupy.

"Oddly enough, it's stirring some up for me." You replied, giving Dean a not-so-subtle once over.

"Alright! Let's get these pictures taken!" The photographer sounded cheesy and overexcited. You chose the backdrop you wanted and stood in front of the screen. There were props you could choose from. You and Dean both decided on a gun. You suddenly felt uncomfortable and self-conscious. How were you supposed to pose? This all felt weird.

"Don't worry. We can work through some poses together." The photographer said as if on cue.

"Ok, let's start with you in the chair." He pointed to Dean. "And you behind him." He told you. You and Dean took your assigned spots.

"Good! Now place your hand on his shoulder and your other hand with the gun on your hip." You did as he instructed. "Perfect!" He took a few snaps.

"Ok, now, good sir. If you don't mind turning fully to the side. And let's have our beautiful lady stand in between your legs." You bit your lip as you positioned yourself between Dean's muscular thighs.

"Wrap your arm around her and hook your thumb into her garter there." He said. Dean's thick fingers wrapped around your thigh, his thumb sliding into the garter. You took in a shuttering breath, trying to hide your arousal. The photographer took a few more shots before coming out from behind the camera again.

"Ok, now sit on his lap." He said. You stepped out of the way and allowed Dean to move into position on the chair. He then motioned for you to sit, kindness and a hint of amusement in his eyes. You sat down on him, crossing your legs and leaning into his chest. Your skirt opened up, showing off most of your legs. Dean cleared his throat but remained still. He once again touched your leg, smoothing his palm down from your knee to grasp your ankle.

"You doing ok?" Dean whispered.

"Yeah, this is fun." You said with a slight giggle. Dean smiled at you, tilting his head back slightly.

"You guys look amazing together!" The photographer exclaimed as he took more pictures.

"Finally..." He said, raising his finger to his chin in thought. "Stand up." He decided. You stood first, letting your skirts fall back over your body. Dean moved the chair out of the way and waited for his next direction.

"Ok, stand facing each other. Now you turn slightly." He said to Dean, turning him by the shoulders so he was facing more forward than you.

"And you grab him by the jacket." You held Dean's jacket with both hands, the gun resting against him.

"Perfect! Now, lift your leg to his waist." You once again lifted your leg, feeling your skirt open to expose all the way to the curve of your ass.

"And grab her leg and hold her steady." The photographer instructed Dean. Dean looked at you and gave you a tight smile as if he was holding back laughter. He wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you tighter against him. His other hand lay against the top of your thigh, the gun pressing into your skin.

"This is nice." You joked.

"Ya know. I was just thinking about how we should do this more often." Dean amused back.

"And look here!" The photographer called, taking the last of the photos.

Once you and Dean changed back into your regular clothes, you looked over the pictures. You had to admit, they looked pretty cool. The sepia tone hid imperfections well, highlighting your makeup and dark clothing. Dean looked ridiculously handsome, as always, his strong looks accentuated by the shadows and contrasts.

"I like these two," Dean said, pointing to the one of you on his lap and the one of him holding you against him.

"Of course you do." You laughed. "I like those too." You agreed. Dean paid for a large print of both of you standing and got a photo strip of your four poses. You were surprised he actually bought it. You thought he would want to forget you made him do this as soon as possible.

"I can't believe you bought it." You expressed your thoughts as you walked back to the car.

"Of course! I gotta have some reminder of the first date with my girl." Dean said in a joking tone. You stood in front of the car, not wanting to get in and end the night. You smiled and stepped toward him, looking up at him with your eyes.

"What do you want to do now?" You asked, your voice breathy and low. Dean cupped your cheeks, his thumbs pushing your jaw to tilt your face toward his.

"I'm gonna kiss you now," Dean said, almost as if he was telling himself and you.

"Finally." You breathed.

He kissed you like how the waves kiss the sand. Consistent and all-encompassing. His soft and full lips moved over yours with passion and adoration. His fingers twisted into your hair at the nape of your neck, melting you further into him. He backed you up against the Impala, your back leaning on the cold metal. One hand slid down your body, slipping under the hem of your shirt. His gentle fingers caressed your stomach and ribcage. His index finger sunk below the waistband of your jeans. You broke the kiss.

"I really want you to keep going, but there are kids here." You said, looking around at the selection of minivans in the parking lot. Dean leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. He nodded, moving your head with the motion.

"Ok, yeah." He finally said. The beginning of the drive was quiet and slightly awkward. Neither of you knew what to say after that. You pulled your leg onto the seat, and Dean instantly slid his hand down your thigh. He grabbed a fistful of the jean-covered flesh of your inner thigh and yanked you toward him. You let out a surprised squeak but quickly settled next to him. You lay your head on his shoulder and relax into the silence.

Dean walked you to your motel room. You turned to face him, holding his eyes with yours.

"I had a really great time tonight, Dean. Thank you for everything." You said sincerely.

"Does our night have to end?" Dean asked, taking a step toward you.

"No." You could barely get the word out before Dean was on you again. His mouth overtaking and tasting every part of yours. Your back was pressed against the wood door. Dean lifted you to him, wrapping your legs around his waist. Somehow, you got into your motel room, Dean stumbling in with you in his arms.

The two of you connected in ways you never thought possible. The world was deep in slumber as you explored every inch of each other's bodies. The cocky and self-assured personality he used as a shield fell away, and all that was left was Dean. Raw and real. Achingly beautiful. You silently pledged yourselves to each other under the crescent moon. No one understood you better. No one loved you better. No one. It was Dean. It was always Dean.

Tagging:  @thinkinghardhardlythinking @watermelonlipstick @lacilou   @kingofthetwats @bellabean5591 @coldgothapricotalmond @briskywalker @gia-25 @reconsidering-my-life-choices @paryl @cutesymrsinuyashagamer @katrynec @arctusluna @samfreakingwinchester @idreamofplaid @zeppette @katherine-ann1 @maliburenee @nancymcl @babymxxse​ @winchestergirl2​

#SPN #supernatural #sam #Sam fluff #dean winchester #dean fluff #sam fanfic #dean fanfiction #sam and dean #sam date #dean date #sammy #dean #Sam Winchester #dean winchester fic

[moonlight-rider25]

Gimme, Gimme, Gimme..

 ..A Winchester boys series, featuring you as the reader, Sam and Dean?..

..Hunting cases together...

...angsty backstory...

..You can pick who you end up with...

What do you think?

#dean #dean winchester #dean and sam #sam #sam winchester #supernatural #SPN #supernatural dean #dean supernatural #supernatural fanfic series #sam supernatural #supernatural sam #winchester #sam and dean #spn fandom #supernatural fandom #sam fanfic #dean fanfic #reader x dean #reader x sam #reader x dean x sam #dean and sam fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic

[imagineteamfreewill]

Undercover

Title: Undercover

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2,139

Warnings: Guns, mentions getting arrested

Square Filled: Rival AU

Summary: Y/N runs into Sam on a hunt and it goes as well as she could expect.

A/N: This is a submission for the extended 2021-2022 SPN AU Bingo (@spnaubingo​). As always, thank you for reading and supporting me. Please let me know what you think! Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

You’d thought you’d been paranoid this morning when you passed the old bookstore on Maple Street and had to do a double take. Then, after you’d seen the ghost of his figure ducking into the local animal hospital just off Highway 30, you’d made a u-turn in an old bait shop’s gravel parking lot just so you could drive past and look for his car. It wasn’t until you’d crept your way into the old marina’s guard building that you realized that you had, in fact, found the same hunt as Sam Winchester.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you muttered as you pulled yourself up onto the top of the upper cabinets. Once you were settled, you flicked off your flashlight and watched as Sam trekked back up the dock towards your hiding place, his own maglight in hand.

He was only a dozen feet away from the back door when he froze and carefully pulled out his gun. You tensed, watching in silence as he peered through the midnight fog that blanketed the lake and the surrounding area. You hadn’t spotted anything suspicious, and you’d been careful to cover up any trace of yourself, which meant that Sam’s sudden change in behavior could only be due to something more nefarious than yourself.

Slowly, Sam crept into the guardhouse, keeping his gun drawn. You held your breath.

“You’re out of your depth with this one,” he finally said, and suddenly his light shone directly in your eyes.

You huffed and held up your free hand to block the light, squinting at him in irritation. “And you’re still a jerk. Nice to see you too, Sam.”

“Get down from there and go home. I’ve already done all the research and I can easily handle this on my own.”

“Oh yeah?” You carefully lowered yourself down from the cabinets and pulled your own gun from the holster strapped to your thigh. You’d stopped tucking it into your jeans a long time ago, opting instead for a more practical option when the chances of running into someone were slim. “Then how come that David said there were no hunters in the area?”

Sam made a face. “Who the hell is David?”

Rolling your eyes, you stomped past him, fully ignoring the gun he kept trained on you. The security guard’s desk would only be unattended for another five minutes. You’d been in the middle of searching for the disc that contained the antiquated security system’s footage from the past two weeks when Sam had interrupted you.

"What are you doing?” he questioned, coming closer to watch over your shoulder.

“Your mom,” you snarked back. 

The disc was shoved in a drawer underneath a short stack of file folders and a notebook with yellowed pages. You pulled it out and turned your flashlight on to inspect the label on the front just to be sure you’d found the right thing, but Sam snatched it out of your hand before you could get a good look.

“Hey!” You grabbed at it, but he held it out of your reach as he read the front himself. “Sam Winchester, this is my hunt! I have been here for over a week now and if you don’t stop interfering, I will call the police on you!”

He only grinned and tucked the DVD into the inside pocket of his jacket. His gun had also been tucked away, leaving him with just the maglight in hand as he looked you over.

“We both know that never ends well. How many times have you tried that one? Three? Four?”

You kept your own gun out and narrowed your eyes at him. “Go. Home.”

“No.”

The sound of footsteps approaching the front doors made you both freeze, and you hurried to switch off your flashlights and escape. When the door swung open only a few moments later, you ducked behind the table. Sam was already crouching behind it and he pushed you into view as he crawled underneath the vinyl tablecloth to hide. Though the guard had yet to turn on the overhead lights, the smug look on Sam’s face was clear as he disappeared from your sight. 

Quickly, you unclipped your holster and shoved both it and your gun inside one of the lower cabinets. They weren’t hidden well, but you could only hope that no one would spot it before you could get back to retrieve them. You barely had time to shoot Sam a look of utter loathing before the lights came on and the guard spotted you.

“Hey, you can’t be in here,” he said, heading right for you. 

It took everything in you not to reveal Sam’s presence as the guard cuffed you and marched you over to his desk so he could phone the police. Logically, you knew that one hunter on the case was better than two of them locked up for trespassing, even if it was Sam Winchester. 

Three hours later, the officer who’d collected you from the marina and brought you down to the station stepped into the holding cell area and unlocked the door. You looked up, a little surprised that David had even answered the phone associated with your alias. He wasn’t always the most reliable backup.

“You’re free to go, ma’am. I’m so sorry for the mixup,” the officer said, giving you a tight smile.

You stood from the bench and stretched a little, popping your back as the man held the cell door open for you. He led you out into the main part of the station, but you slowed your pace as you neared his desk.

Sam sat opposite the officer’s chair, his hands cuffed to a metal loop on the desk in front of him. When he saw the officer had returned, he turned his head to meet your eyes, his expression unreadable.

“Can I ask if you were able to get ahold of my supervisor?” you asked, closing the distance between you and the two men.

The officer pulled your bag of personal items from the bottom drawer of the desk and started removing the items from the clear plastic. He checked each of them off on your intake form as he worked, not bothering to look up as he replied.

“No, but we found this man impersonating a federal agent and interrogating local employees. When we contacted the man he claimed to be his supervisor, we realized that you were the real deal and this guy’s the fake,” he explained.

Raising an eyebrow, you glanced over at Sam, who was slouching further and further in his chair as the officer spoke.

“How did you come to that conclusion?”

This time the man looked up at you. He held out your flashlight, badge, wallet, and phone, which you accepted gratefully. A quick glance at the screen told you that you had three missed calls and a voicemail from David, no doubt chewing you out for getting arrested.

“His “supervisor” wasn’t his supervisor at all. The guy does work for the Bureau, though, because he confirmed your role in the case.” He glanced back down at the forms, then slid the paper towards you and held out a pen. “That should be everything. You just need to sign at the bottom saying that we’ve returned all your personal items. I’m sure the Bureau will be happy to clear up any paperwork regarding tonight?”

You nodded and leaned forward to scribble your alias’ signature on the bottom line, ignoring Sam’s glare. As you signed, you tried not to let your immense satisfaction that Bobby had vouched for you and not Sam show.

“I’m glad we could clear all this up,” you said. “Although…” Sam tensed as you paused and finally looked back at him, then at the officer. “This man isn’t impersonating a federal agent.”

“That’s not what your higher-ups said,” replied the officer. He crossed his arms over his chest, regarding you with a suspicious expression. “Are you saying that he’s lying to me?”

Shaking your head, you tucked your badge and wallet back into the pockets of your jeans. “No, sir. I’m saying that he doesn’t know everything regarding this case. Like I told you when I first came in, I’ve been tracing a trail of murders across several states. The scope of this thing is huge and we’ve got hundreds of cases under investigation right now. This man is an undercover agent, one specifically chosen by me to help with my work, so I’m going to ask that you release him from custody. You’ve already risked blowing his cover by arresting him. I’m happy to take care of any paperwork on his behalf.”

After a few moments of consideration, the man sighed and shook his head, muttering to himself. He reached down into the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a second bag. This one held more items than yours, including Sam’s gun and several knives he’d had hidden on his person that you hadn’t been able to see before. You made a mental note of each one as the officer pulled them from the bag and checked them off on the paperwork he’d clearly been in the middle of filling out when he’d gone to release you from the holding cell. You also noticed that the disc with the security footage wasn’t among the items in the bag, which meant you’d have to ask Sam to give it back to you. Irritation grew in the center of your chest and you cleared your throat, pressing your lips together to keep yourself from saying something that would blow your cover.

While he worked, Sam stared at you in silence. You could feel his gaze focused on you as you supervised the officer going through Sam’s belongings, and he continued to stare at you while you filled out the papers regarding his release. Finally, the officer went around the desk and uncuffed him, then handed him the pen to sign off that he’d received all his personal items.

You stood beside Sam in silence as he collected his things, then stayed by his side as the two of you walked through the station and out into the parking lot. Your motel was only a few blocks down the street, and you had no doubt that Sam was most likely staying there too.

“Why did you do that?” he finally asked as you turned out of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk.

“Do you want me to go back and tell him I was lying?” you asked, not looking over at him. “Because then we’ll both be in even more trouble, and I don’t really want that.”

Sam sighed. “Y/N—”

“Don’t. Just go home and let me do my job.”

“This is my job too, you know.”

This time you did look over at him, but only for a second. “I didn’t get you out of there so you could help me, Sam. I got you out because I’m sure there are other people who need help. I’ve got this covered, and if you had only listened to me in the first place—”

“I was here first, so if anyone’s leaving, it should be—”

“Will you just stop?” you shouted. You stopped and turned to face him. He seemed startled by your outburst, but you didn’t let his unusual show of surprise faze you. “It’s very clear that neither one of us likes the other, and it’s even more clear that we can’t work together. I did you a huge favor sticking my neck out back there for you.” You pointed back down the street towards the station. “So for once in your life, can you just let someone else be in charge? Just give me the disc, go home, stay out of my life! Can you handle that, Sam? Or is that too hard for you?”

He stared at you, lips pressed together, and you crossed your arms over your chest. When he didn’t reply after a moment more, you turned and started walking again, leaving him standing with his back to the street. 

“Fine,” Sam said, calling out to you as you kept walking. “But next time, don’t expect me to help you.”

You scoffed but you didn’t say anything. You knew that deep down Sam had to be a good person—bad people didn’t willingly sacrifice everything good in life—but something about him made you want to bang your head against the wall. There are many things that you wanted in life as a hunter, but getting away from him was at the top of the list. If letting him think that he had the upper hand here would get him to leave, then you’d let the argument fade. There were more important things to worry about.

Thank you for reading! <3

If you liked this story, please reblog! That is the best way to share your love for my work and to spread it so that other people can enjoy this story. If you would like to support me further, please consider supporting my writing by donating on Ko-fi, supporting me on Patreon, or commissioning a story of your own!

@mrswhozeewhatsis​​ @alexwinchester23​​ @shaelyn102​​ @lyarr24​ @supermoonpanda​​ @ultimatecin73​​ @musiclovinchic93​​ @shamelesslydean​​ @mlovesstories​​ @ellie-andthemachine​​ @fandomoniumflurry​​

#spnaubingo #sam #sam winchester #reader x sam #sam x reader #reader x sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam fic #sam fanfic #sam fanfiction #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester angst #sam fluff #sam angst #sam winchester reader insert #supernatural reader insert #imagineteamfreewill #spn #supernatural #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #jellyfish fic

[trexrambling]

Hey hun ☺️

Could you write the Kissing prompt #36 with Sam?

Hope you're having a good day! 😊

"kissing away tears"

--------------------

The reflection in the fogged bathroom mirror taunts you; dark circles under red eyes, wet hair clinging to flushed skin, a tight jawline.

You blink and angrily scrub at the tears that won't seem to stop coming, swallow deeply and try to breathe evenly through a snotty nose.

"Y/N? You good in there?"

Sam's voice carries through the closed door, making you start slightly. You clear your throat, resume the task of changing into fresh clothes.

"Y-yeah, I'm okay. Just-" your knee bangs against the corner of the bathroom cabinet, and you curse under your breath as more tears rise to the surface- "um, ah, I'm fine. Just give me a minute."

He doesn't give you a minute.

You barely yank your sweatshirt down in time to cover your stomach, a deep blush rising to your cheeks.

"Sam, what the hell?"

And it's not like he hasn't seen you change before, hell, hasn't seen you naked before. But you don't want him to see you like this.

He stands in the now open doorway, a hand still on the doorknob. His face is tight with concern as his eyes land on yours. "Are you crying?"

"Dude, you can't just...just...bust in on me like that," you retort, moving to push past him.

He easily blocks you, two hands landing on your shoulders to halt you in place.

"Dude?"

You can't look at him, and your voice wavers as you spit out, "Let me go, Sam.

But he doesn't let you go.

His hands slide up your shoulders to your face, cupping it softly between his palms as he lowers his head, lips firmly connecting with yours. And you're still crying as he pulls you to him, as he easily lifts you up and sets you down on the bathroom counter, his hands now on your thighs as he kisses you deeply again, then a third time.

He leaves your lips and finds your cheek, your neck, your chin where the streams of liquid have pooled. And then you're clinging to him like your life depends on it, and he's hugging you just as tightly, one hand rubbing up and down your back while you burrow your head in his chest as he gently whispers in your ear-

"It's okay, Y/N, I've got you. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

---------------------

#sam x reader #sam comfort fic #sam winchester #sam drabble #sam fanfic #requests

[k9effect]

Reblog for a larger sample size!

No "show results", if you're not a fanfic writer just be patient.

I saw a post about an anon saying it was embarrasing to have an ao3 account in your 30s (it's absolutely not), so I want to do a poll and see what the age range actually is.

#sam polls #fanfic #ao3 #fanfiction #fan fic #fan fiction #writing #authors #writblr #fanficblr #wattpad #quotev #live journal #fanfic.net

[molt3ngold]

#pedro pascal #supernatural #jensen ackles #dean winchester #spn #man i love dilfs #castiel #misha collins #joel miller #sam winchester #hannibal #will graham #the walking dead #Daryl Dixon #rick grimes #Norman Reedus #andrew lincoln #ao3 #tumblr #fanfic #fanfiction #archive of our own #fanfiction.net #smut

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

a darling and a virgin | f. odair

masterlist

summary: you are a victor from district four, having just ended your first victory tour. after being confronted by president snow, you have no choice but to lose your virginity. luckily, your previous mentor is willing to provide some guidance.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: mentions of forced prostitution, angst, gentle smut, loss of virginity, fingering, lots of consent, praise, happy but also unhappy ending??, reader takes contraceptives.

notes: i’ve recently found that i’m incapable of writing short smut one shots so… i’m sorry y’all. love describing every detail too much.

word count: 6.8k

Your hands were clasped over the balcony railing of the penthouse you were spending the night in, the vibrant artificial lights of the Capitol burning your retinas as you overlooked the city. You had finally completed your first Victory Tour and were offered one more night in the Capitol to enjoy its ‘luxury’ and ‘generosity’ before returning to District Four in the morning.

For the past two weeks, you had read fabricated speeches to each District, resurfacing both your trauma from the Games and the families of the tributes you had murdered in the arena. The toll it was taking on you was heavy, but you managed to put on a splitting grin for every interview, speech, and disturbing congratulation. But not for your previous mentor, Finnick Odair.

Finnick had been there for you through the whole nightmare, even during the week before your Games. His support was unwavering which was one of the many reasons you had managed to survive from the moment you were Reaped to the end of the Tour. It was hard to tell when his mentorship had turned into something more complicated, but it had. It had become more about feelings than simply survival. Not a relationship per se, but not just a friendship either. You teetered on the line between the two, never crossing it and never discussing the fact that you were both aware of it either.

For six whole months.

When the final destination of the Tour came—the grand celebration at President Snow’s mansion—Finnick had told you it was the easiest part. All you had to do was manage a happy face, mingle with obnoxious Capitol citizens, and eat an abhorrent amount of food. He would have been right if you were a different person. If President Snow hadn’t demanded your singular presence at the end of the night.

You exhaled a shaky breath, watching the white mist drift into the light-polluted sky. The President’s words bounced around your head: Desirable… Customers... Family. The conversation played on a loop in your mind. You could remember the repugnant smell of roses, the overwhelming whiteness in the room, and the way his too-pleasant face lit up as fireworks exploded outside the window.

Shivers trickled down your spine, forming goosebumps that were borderline painful. The fact that you were on the ninetieth floor and wearing flimsy pyjama shorts and a thin long-sleeve shirt wasn’t helping either. The crisp wind blew against your body, but you had no intentions of moving to seek warmth. It felt appropriate to stay in the cold when your body would soon know nothing but unwelcome heat.

So lost in your spiralling thoughts, you failed to notice as another body silently took up space beside yours, warming up the side of your arm. This heat was welcome.

“Pretty cold out here.”

A startled gasp escaped your mouth. You straightened up and turned to the owner of the voice, only to find Finnick leaning against the railing, forearms over the edge the same as you.

“Sorry.” He chuckled. “I know my presence can be a little breathtaking sometimes. Nice shorts by the way.”

He turned his head turned to you, revealing his infamous flirtatious smirk. The dimples in his cheeks were prominent and charming. His bronze hair was perfectly dishevelled as usual, as if someone had purposefully placed each strand to give him the ‘sexy bed hair’ look. He was still wearing his white button-up and black trousers; the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows and a few buttons were undone, revealing his toned chest. The outfit had been accessorised with a metallic golden corset-like belt among other decorations that made him fit in with the Capitol crowd, but he must have taken them off. Now the outfit sort of resembled one that a boy would wear to a Reaping. Simple yet formal. Still gorgeous, not that he needed reminding.

Normally, you would retort with a snarky remark or, on the off occasion, flirt back, but instead, you resumed your previous position over the railings. You weren’t immune to Finnick’s charms; you praised anyone who was. You would usually be internally swooning at the sight of him, especially with the way he looked right now and his obvious flirting. But this night was much different. Flirting and swooning were at the back of your mind. All you could think about was your interaction with the president; the way his guards manhandled and escorted you to his study. The conversation that destroyed your hopes of a peaceful future.

Desirable. One word that sent ice coursing through your veins. Or snow, to be more poetic.

“I don’t think you’ve said a word since we got back,” said Finnick, still a hint of playfulness in his tone. He watched your gaze—eyes distant though not really seeing. It was clear something was wrong, so he continued, this time more softly. “You were gone during the fireworks.”

You remained unmoving, staring straight ahead at the city. Only when he uttered your name did he finally gain your attention. As you turned your head to face him, tears began to well up in your eyes.

Finnick noticed the silent distress in your expression and straightened up his stance. He towered over you, brows knitted together whilst his sea-green eyes flickered across your face, looking as if pieces were slowly falling together in his mind.

“He spoke with you, didn’t he?” he said. “Snow.”

To answer his question for you, a tear escaped your eye, but you were quick to swipe it away with a sniffle.

Your arms wound around your torso, hugging yourself as the words began flowing. “After I won my Games, when I was being crowned, he said something to me that I didn’t really understand." Your voice was gentle, just above a mere whisper. “Months passed and I’d forgotten all about it. Until now at least. He told me…” You swallowed the ache in your throat. “He told me, ‘I have big plans for you, Miss (L/N). I think you will be a very valuable asset to the Capitol citizens.’”

Finnick’s face had melted into an unreadable expression. His entire body turned to stone; it was like he was a marble statue portraying a Greek God. All of a sudden, he was sixteen again. He was in Snow’s study, being told that if he didn’t cooperate and essentially sell himself to the Capitol, his family would pay the price. And they did.

With a sad smile, you whispered, “I know what he meant now.”

Something inside him snapped and he broke from his stupor.

“No.” He vigorously shook his head. “He can’t do that. You can’t. I’ll go to him and—fuck!” His hand ran through his hair, making it even more dishevelled. The bright lights from the city were reflecting off his eyes, revealing the shine that was starting to gloss over them. “I can fix this for you, I swear I’ll—"

“Finnick.”

“He’s a fucking—”

“Finnick.” The plea in your voice ceased his panicked movements. He just stood there, looking completely and utterly helpless. You both did. Another tear slipped down your cheek as you stared at him, your voice wavering as you asked, “Can you hold me?”

He let out a breath as if the air had been knocked from his lungs and in one fell swoop, he stepped forward and pulled you into his arms. Silent tears began to flow more heavily, saturating his white shirt which he held you tightly against. There was a hand wrapped protectively around your lower back and another stroking the hair flowing over your neck.

You were certain Finnick let a few tears slip too because you could feel the cold breeze nip at the top of your head the slightest bit more. He mumbled the words “I’m so sorry” over and over into your hair but you just shook your head. You told him it wasn’t his fault, but he wouldn’t accept it. He had told you months ago about his arrangement with Snow. You couldn’t have imagined what it was like for him then, but you would be able to now. You would know every single little detail.

His embrace tightened as you turned your head and pressed your ear to his thumping chest.

The tears had stopped, and you managed to find your voice again. “Snow threatened to kill my family. What if the customers don’t think I’m good enough and he takes it out on them? I mean, I don’t have any experience.”

You remained silent, awaiting his response. When the hand stroking your hair halted, you realised your mistake. You realised what you had just admitted to him and mentally kicked yourself. Repeatedly.

Finnick moved both hands onto your forearms, gently pushing you away from him to get a clear view of your face. The surprise in his expression was enough to make you want to jump over the balcony ledge in embarrassment.

“You’re a virgin?”

Hearing the words out loud would have sent you over the edge—literally—if Finnick’s large hands weren’t wrapped around your arms. You tried to turn away from him, but his grip was unshakeable. Your eyes began to water again, and you felt pathetic.

“Hey,” he said tenderly as he tried to regain your eye contact. “It’s not a bad thing.”

Your distraught red-rimmed eyes snapped back to him. “Not a bad thing? Of course it’s a bad thing, Finnick! I have to give my body to a stranger despite never even having my first kiss! Let alone sex!” As you said the words, the full reality of your situation began to set in. Panic turned to sadness as you realised yet again, the Capitol was taking another innocence you thought was your own to give away. You looked down, your tone becoming quieter. “I thought my first time would be special. Or at least with someone I loved.”

God, you felt so embarrassed admitting that to him. Sure, a lot of your conversations were flirty and full of sensual banter. Sex, however, was not a topic that came up very frequently. You would never want to accidentally cross a line with Finnick, especially given what Snow forced upon him. So you liked to avoid the subject as much as possible. Now, it was inescapable.

He released his grip and sighed heavily, looking out toward the view as if he were deep in thought. The vivid city lights cast an unnatural hue on his usually golden-tanned skin; even now the Capitol was changing him into something he wasn’t. His eyes shut for a quick second before he reopened them and looked back at you. The only time he had looked this serious was the morning of your Games and the night you returned. It was a little intimidating.

His jaw ticked and his gaze bore down into your own. “Sweetheart, I’m going to ask you something,” he began, “and I want you to know you do not have to say ‘yes’ if you don’t want to, okay?”

Alright, now he was really starting to scare you.

“Okay,” you said warily.

The hardness on his face remained for a moment longer, but then his expression softened and became the most vulnerable you had ever seen.

His voice was gentle. “Do you want me to take your virginity?”

*************

You were sat on the edge of Finnick’s bed, toying with the black satin sheets with a frown. Your room didn’t get satin sheets. It was probably one of the benefits of being the Capitol Darling. Not that you envied him very much. He would probably be content with sleeping on a dirt floor if it meant he got his autonomy back.

Finnick was in the bathroom doing God knows what. You weren’t sure if he was trying to make himself more presentable or hyping himself up to have sex with you. The latter worried you. The last thing you wanted was to pressure him into something he didn’t want to do. Then again, he was the one who asked.

After you had told him “Yes, please”, he had tentatively but oh-so-gently taken your hand in his and guided you inside and to his room. Neither of you had spoken along the way; you just walked in silence toward something that would either ruin or deepen your relationship. Despite being two victors, this was still a mentor making sure his tribute stayed alive.

You heard the bathroom door slide open and looked up to see Finnick standing outside the door. Shirtless, pants still on, and towel in hand. It took everything in you to not stare at his perfectly sculptured torso, his equally toned arms, or his broad and muscular shoulders. Instead, your eyes met his for a split second before you returned to the satin sheets.

Blood rushed to your head and everything felt too real. Finnick Odair was standing before you, looking like an angel and willing to fu—

“You’re allowed to look, you know,” he chuckled.

But your gaze remained on the bed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You won’t.’” He spread the towel on the bed, positioning it in the middle. Then he stopped his movements as he realised what you meant. “It’s not like that. I’m not being forced to do this. I want to.”

Your head snapped up and your heart leapt as those three words left his lips—I want to. For a second, you believed him, but then reasoning came to deflate your hopefulness.

“You wouldn’t want to if I weren’t in this situation.”

He let go of the towel, sitting down mere inches beside you, his eyes amused despite the solemn context. “And how do you know that?”

“Because…” you trailed off, searching your brain for an explanation only to find none. “Because.”

He smirked. “We need to work on your argumentative skills, sweetheart.”

A small smile worked its way across your lips. He returned it with a comforting smile of his own, though the sense of playfulness never left. It never really did and that was one of the things you admired most about him. Even in the darkest of situations, he was able to provide some light.

Rosy heat crept into your cheeks and you were forced to break eye contact again. Hiding how much he affected you was pointless now; if this was going to work out, you needed to be vulnerable with him. With each other. You looked down at the space between your bodies. His hand was resting on the bed beside him and soon enough, it was slowly creeping across the sheets over to your own. He gently brushed his fingers across your knuckles before sliding his hand beneath your palm and interlocking it with yours. You couldn’t help but notice how small your hand looked compared to his, feeling butterflies flutter around your stomach at the small observation.

The both of you silently watched your intertwined hands. That is until Finnick decided to speak up.

“I would,” he said ambiguously, caressing the side of your hand with his thumb. “I would still want to. Even in different circumstances.”

The blush on your face reddened even more; your cheeks were on fire at this point. Even in different circumstances. Was that his way of confessing… that he did have feelings for you? It wasn’t exactly explicit, but it was certainly implied. Oh god, you didn’t know what to think.

You didn’t bother to reply; words probably would have failed you anyway. You just gave his hand a slight squeeze in acknowledgement—well, it was more in appreciation. It was obvious how hard he was trying to make you feel comfortable, but no matter how hard he tried, you couldn’t shake the nerves that were rattling your entire being.

Sex was a pretty big milestone—to you, at least—and here you were, on the precipice with someone you trusted with your life. Did you love Finnick? You weren’t sure. What you did know was that your feelings for him were deep, and even though neither of you had ever clearly confessed to each other, you knew he felt something for you too. Which made everything all the more daunting.

“Are you nervous?” he asked softly.

You nodded.

“We still don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

You shook your head, lifting your gaze to his. “No, I—”

His eyebrows pulled inwards, awaiting your answer. His eyes were so inviting and full of understanding, if you hadn’t lost the ability to form full sentences, you would have found yourself spilling all your secrets to him. He was so patient with you. So good. You had to rethink your uncertainty about loving him.

“I…” you tried again. Your eyes flickered back and forth from his sea-green eyes to his soft, pink lips. As shameful as it felt to admit, you had imagined what it would feel like to have his lips on yours many times before. Usually right before you went to sleep. Never would you have thought the day would come when it would actually happen.

He was still caressing the side of your palm, silently reassuring you, encouraging you to communicate with him. You sighed, closing your eyes. If he wanted you to communicate, then you would.

“Finnick,” you whispered. “Kiss me.”

Your words drifted into the air, stilling everything in the room—the air, Finnick’s hand. Your heart. He just stared at you, unblinking, unmoving, like someone had hit pause on the television at the tensest moment. The tension was tearing you apart and you almost got up and left the room. But you didn’t. Because suddenly, the sides of your face were cupped by large hands and his lips were on yours.

Finnick Odair was kissing you.

His lips pressed against yours once more in one long close-mouthed kiss before leaving again. Shock came and left within seconds and you found the courage to copy his actions. Your lips locked perfectly onto his, remaining still, enjoying the pressure and tingly warmth of simply having them connected. Then your lips moved to kiss him again. And again, and again until soon enough, his tongue had slyly slid into your mouth and you had somehow instantaneously become a master at French kissing.

This kiss felt familiar, despite it being your first. Like something you had done millions of times before, but only with him. Like having his lips on yours was the most natural thing to ever exist.

A hand moved onto your waist and suddenly you were being pulled onto his lap, legs straddling his lap. Your hands fell on his chest, mindlessly wandering and feeling the toned muscles ripple underneath your palms as he pulled you closer by the neck to deepen the kiss. Damn the people of the Capitol, but they were right to say he was an incredible kisser.

“Finn,” you huffed in between kisses, “have you got a rock in your pants?”

He pecked your lips once more with a smirk, resting his forehead against yours as you both attempted to catch your breaths. “No,” he chuckled. “I’ve just got a beautiful girl on my lap.”

Your eyes opened to see him grinning at you with mischief. Oh.

“Is that okay?” he asked.

You nodded jerkily. “Ye—Yes, that’s okay.”

“Okay, good.”

Biting your lip, you looked down between your bodies. Curiously, you rocked your hips along the length of his lap once, earning a quiet grunt from him.

He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “Careful,” his voice was low, tempting.

And of course, in full defiance, you did it again. His warning was a bluff. He made no real action to prevent you from grinding any further on his erection, so you kept moving, and he kept revealing how good it made him feel. The thin fabric of your shorts created a little barrier between his hard lap and the growing sensitivity between your thighs.

Meanwhile, you found yourself never wanting to be parted from Finnick’s lips. With every rock of your hips, your hands ran over every inch of his upper body, eventually settling in his hair. The way he kissed reminded you of stories of District Twelve. A district full of hunger and desperation. Only what Finnick was craving wasn’t the fullness of food in his stomach, but the desire to devour you whole. To ravage you. And by God, would you give anything to satiate him.

Forget what you thought before. This wasn’t just a victor keeping his tribute alive. As clear as the sea on a sunny day, this was a man giving himself over to a woman he loved. You. Finnick loved you.

When you pulled back to tentatively lift your shirt over your head, his eyes stayed on yours. Your breasts were literally bare and he just continued to scan the features of your face. However, you did notice the subtle shift in his breathing.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, stroking the side of your breast.

A shy, cheek-warming smile crept on your face and then suddenly, Finnick was rolling you over. Your head fell back onto the soft silk pillows, Finnick hovering above you. This position remained for a long while, the time spent simply kissing each other, alternating between deep tongue-filled kisses and soft sweet pecks. There were moments when you both stopped to flirt or giggle. These were the times you entirely forgot the whole reason you were doing this in the first place.

It was just you and Finnick. Two new lovers in a perfect world.

After a while, your lips had swollen with warm, passionate heat. You were flushed and you didn’t even need to look to know your hair was already a tangled mess. But you didn’t care.

One of Finnick’s hands had begun to wander down your stomach, breaking the established pattern of merely making out. You knew what was coming and surprisingly, you weren’t afraid. Unlike outside the penthouse apartment, there was no danger. Not in this room, in this bed, or in the hands that caressed you. He grazed across the skin beneath your belly button, causing your body to flinch up into his.

Of course, he smirked at that—the smug asshole.

He returned to your lips before lowering down to your neck and sucking soft, red marks into your fragile skin. His fingers found the edge of your waistband. At this point, you were already breathing like a marathoner.

His lips detached from your neck. “Can Itouch you?”

“Yes, please,” you breathed.

As he travelled down, down beneath your waistband, he pecked your reddened lips once more. A soft gasp escaped you and warmth tingled between your thighs. His fingers were gentle as he began circling that sweet, sensitive spot only you had ever touched. Having someone else touch you felt so much more different, so much more exquisite. Your body responded to his touch immediately, hips following each movement of his fingers, breaths quickening in pace.

Finnick gazed down at you, observing each pleasured twist of your expression. He began to pick up the pace as he noticed your body familiarising itself with the sensation. More pressure was applied and the gasps leaving your mouth were gradually turning into quiet moans.

“This feel okay?” he asked. Obviously, he knew the answer, but after years of having others take advantage of him, he couldn’t help but want to hear your willingness. Your consent.

But you weren’t sure if the words could form. Everything felt like it was vibrating. All you could do was focus on the pleasure his fingers were building.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can tell me.”

His voice had taken on that seductive purr he was well-known for and you just couldn’t deny him. It took everything inside you to muster up the words. “It—it feels so good.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The gesture was so sweet, you could have cried. So sweet even with his hand stroking between your legs and his hard cock pressing against your thigh. Time slowed as his fingers sped up. Muscles in your stomach were tightening. Your insides were churning—not like when you first entered your Games’ arena, but in the best way possible. It was a sensation you had never felt before, but before it could build any more, Finnick’s hand stilled. And you genuinely whined at the loss of friction.

Then his hand moved even lower, resting a singular finger over your slick entrance. Your eyes were wide, unsure of how to feel with the sudden turn of events.

Finnick’s eyes flickered between your own. "You trust me?”

You weren’t sure if an easier question existed. “I do.”

And his lips were on yours again, deep and sensual. His tongue rolled over your own, pushing forward and then retreating in a perfect rhythm. He almost successfully distracted you from the feeling of his middle finger sinking into you knuckle-by-knuckle. Some sort of sound resembling a mix of discomfort and surprise vibrated in your throat as his finger bottomed out.

There wasn’t much pain. It was just an odd feeling.

Your lips parted from his and he looked down at you, his eyes holding an immense amount of security as he communicated through your shared gaze.

Does it hurt?

You gave him a gentle smile. No. Keep touching me.

He returned your smile with a grin. Gladly.

His buried finger curled, shooting a sharp pang up into your stomach which caused your back to arch up against his bare torso. Whether you considered it painful or pleasurable was uncertain. Perhaps a mix of both. He did it again. This time you settled on describing it as a tight twinge in your lower stomach which sent a wave of chills down your legs. Definitely pleasurable. Only, he stopped indulging you with the sensation after the second time.

Instead, you felt another finger slowly slip inside you and whimpered. Now that hurt. You felt your inner walls stretch with the second addition and it stung. Especially when he began to scissor his fingers inside you. This was him preparing you for the real deal. How you were supposed to have Finnick inside you when just his fingers had you stuffed was incomprehensible. But you allowed him to keep going, trying to enjoy the comforting kisses he pampered onto you.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he said.

Your hands moved to push back his messy bronze hair as he hovered above you. His dimples deepened with a grin and you swore you would endure any pain to keep them etched on his face. After he deemed you stretched out enough, he slowly rose to his knees, unbuttoning his trousers and throwing them aside. You couldn’t do anything but stare. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

The way you gulped was almost cartoonish. How the hell was he supposed to fit? You had never seen a man naked before—you weren’t even sure Finnick was human. He had a body sculptured by the Gods, a face carved by angels, and a… well, let’s just say he didn’t disappoint in any other areas. You weren’t sure if the smug look on his face was real or a carefully curated mask created for his Capitol customers. By the way it quickly washed away, you could tell it was the latter.

He began sliding your shorts down your legs, tossing them to the floor. Suddenly, you felt extremely vulnerable. Almost inferior. Your knees fell together, concealing the most private part of yourself from him. You avoided his gaze, cheeks becoming red and hot as he observed your naked frame. He had a way of looking at you as if you were a long-forgotten masterpiece, rediscovered from centuries of being lost. No one had looked at you like that before him.

Gently, he pried apart your legs and you didn’t bother trying to resist. Only when he descended and settled between your legs did the insecurity dwindle into the background of your mind. Your naked bodies were hot against each other. His weight pinned you against the bed. Everything that was yours touched all that was his. You thought this experience would feel like a dream, but it all felt so real. You were nervous, you were trembling, and your breaths were shaky.

Finnick was quick to recognise the nervousness radiating off you. His arm curled beneath you, somehow pulling you even closer, meanwhile, his other arm rested beside your head. He brushed strands of hair away from your face, soothing you with his tender touch.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

You nodded. You wanted this—wanted Finnick. It was just the anticipation that was killing you. Your thighs squeezed his sides to tell him you were ready. For a few moments longer, he restarted the pattern of sweet kisses, rolling tongues, and the warmth of blood rushing to your head. His hand was caressing your cheek; yours were splayed on his back, gliding over the rippled muscles.

Then finally, he shifted, his hand moving south to align himself with your entrance. All you could do was watch his focused expression. This was the moment. The threshold of your relationship would be ­­crossed as soon as he pushed forward. There was no one else you wanted to share the experience with because you knew this wasn’t just sex. Not for him or for you; it was more than that. Something bordering spiritual, breaking the bounds of physical pleasure and entering into a deep emotional connection. Something no paying customer of the Capitol could provide.

He was gazing down at you, half-cradling your head as he began to say, “Are you su—" But before he could finish, you had pressed your lips to his, answering his question. You were sure. He nodded in response.

His eyes were hesitant he began to push his tip between your folds. Your fingers dug into his back, more from anxiety than anything else. It became a game of stopping and starting as he moved deeper inside inch-by-inch, allowing your walls time to adjust around him. Never had you seen someone’s face filled with so many emotions—concentration, controlled gratification, affection. So many feelings twisted his expression. Meanwhile, yours held only one. Discomfort. He was so big; you felt like you were being split apart and he wasn’t even fully inside yet.

Finally, when his pelvis connected with yours, you exhaled a heavy breath. It hurt. Bad. Finnick had the right idea to lay down a towel because you definitely needed it. He had you filled to the brim, stretched out and stuffed. Even the slightest shift in his position had your hands flying to his shoulders in pain.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes, just—” You bit your lip in an attempt to suppress a whimper. “Just go slow.”

He nodded. You smiled. Then for some odd reason, you laughed. And then so did he. Finnick’s face fell into the crook of your neck, muffling his boyish laughs into your skin. The added movements had your insides dully aching, but you didn’t pay it much attention. The moment was so innocently intimate that you wanted to stay in it forever. He lifted his head to press his grinning lips to yours and the laughter began to dissipate. Your mouths moved slowly together, full of heat and fervent emotion, and suddenly, Finnick’s body began to move too.

Careful as not to harm you, he slid himself backward in one slow motion and then pushed forward again in another. Pain stung at your inner walls and your lips left his as a gasp escaped your mouth. You were tempted to close your eyes whilst riding out the discomfort but couldn’t bring yourself to look away from Finnick’s face. He was so mesmerizingly beautiful.

His cheeks were a baby pink. Lips were a rosy red. There was a thin sheen covering his forehead, slightly wrinkled by his furrowed brows. Those messy bronze locks you adored so much fell in strands across his forehead. The evident concentration and care on his face just made him look all the more picturesque.

While you admired his features, you started to notice the pain accompanying his slow thrusts was becoming more tolerable. There was still a sting, but also a dull twinge in your stomach that had you biting your bottom lip. It felt sort of… nice. And you wanted to experiment with that feeling.

Your hands were hooked around his shoulders. “Faster.”

Are you sure? His lustful eyes spoke.

You pulled him back down to your mouth. Absolutely.

And so, his hips started to rock back and forth at a faster pace. You could feel yourself clench around his cock from the change of rhythm but forced yourself to relax. He thrust in and out, rubbing against the ripples of your walls, tip brushing at a spot inside you that was anything but pain. That is what you focused on—that one sweet spot.

Time went on and he gradually increased his speed. Your lips were swollen and red, no doubt from the way he would nip and suck on your bottom lip in between each flick of his tongue. His breaths were coming out louder, heavier, as were your own. Soon enough, you were in a rhythm that was both pleasurable for him and for you. The pain lingered but it was no longer unbearable. A shudder ran down your body and your pussy fluttered around him. Finnick broke away from your lips with a breathy groan that you swore you could feel in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

His thrusts became a little faster, a little more painful. A hand slipped down between your bodies and the pain faded quicker than it came. He was rubbing circles around your clit, occasionally running his fingers across it which caused you to lurch upward. All of a sudden, you came to the realisation that everything bad that had been clouding your mind had disappeared. The ache, the confrontation with Snow. Everything. The only thing you could focus on was the pleasure slowly building between your thighs and in your stomach. And Finnick. His tantalising eyes. His wicked mouth. His throbbing cock.

People always said your first time would be horrible; this was anything but. Maybe it had to do with the fact that you… loved him? Yeah, you loved him. Also because he was something of an expert at sex. You were in a pretty unlucky predicament but having Finnick willingly fucking you was a blessing.

His fingers were relentless, applying the perfect amount of pleasure that had you writhing beneath him. And added with the sensation of his cock repeatedly hitting that spot inside you, your uneven breaths turned into soft moans. He fucked, he rubbed, he nipped and sucked at the delicate skin of your neck. Heat was enveloping your entire body.

“Finnick,” you moaned.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” His voice was strained and hoarse.

His hand left your clit, hooking around your thigh, and curling it around his back so he could thrust even deeper. He restarted his rhythm of rubbing circles, but his thrusts felt different. Instead of just brushing that sensitiveness deep inside you, he was mercilessly hitting it. Over and over. Your moans were louder now; Finnick was more vocal too, grunting and occasionally uttering words of praise.

This went on for a while. His stamina was incredible—if you had a moment to think, you would have realised the depressing reasoning behind it. But you couldn’t think at all. Your heel was digging into his back; nails scratching at his skin. Both of you had a layer of sweat covering your bodies, skin wet, slapping and sliding over one another. Your pheromones had filled the room with the smell of sex, driving your need to finish.

Finnick’s mouth had been everywhere at this point. Your lips, your neck, shoulders, and breasts. Everywhere except your pussy, not that it really mattered anymore.

It was hard for you to comprehend how fucking amazing the sensations you felt were. There was heat and pressure pooling in your stomach, increasing at a slow pace, and growing more powerful by the minute. Finnick’s hips moved at a steady pace, but his hand had begun to slow. Even he had to succumb to fatigue at some point. He sounded like he had run for miles though was obviously pushing himself on for your benefit.

Instead of ceasing his tiring hand movements entirely, he switched hands. And that was when the heat in your stomach turned into a blazing inferno. He was much faster now. Applied more pressure. Your head fell back against the pillow with a cry. His cock was throbbing inside you at the sound.

“That feel good? Huh?” he practically moaned.

He left kisses across the stretch of your neck, running his tongue over the skin and leaving behind red marks.

“Yes!” you cried out.

Your entire body felt like it was being dipped into a white-hot flame of pleasure and the feeling was only increasing. It was clear Finnick felt the same way. His thrusts were becoming more frantic, he was cursing left and right, and he was practically pulsing inside you.

The heat in your stomach was overwhelming but you needed more.

“Finnick, I feel—I feel—” You couldn’t describe even it.

Finnick nodded, breathing heavily above you. God, he looked gorgeous. “You’re gonna come.”

Your half-lidded needy eyes met his. Something about him saying those words sent a wave of acceleration through your body. You hadn’t known what the edge was until you were on the brink of coming, and there was no stopping it. His cock plunged in and out, pushing deep inside you, practically rocketing your orgasm to the surface with each thrust. His fingers moved at such an intense pace you didn’t even know was physically possible.

As your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth fell open and every frantic breath, moan, and cry was able to escape. Finnick had the same problem. Fuck, he sounded so sexy, it only spurred you on.

Then it hit you all at once. “Fu—"

Every inch of your body tensed. You were sent into a space where white noise filled your hearing and bliss was all you knew. No pain. No sadness. Just ecstasy. Electric sparks jolted up and down your body, rising to your head, and causing you to see stars behind your closed eyes. Your moans were uncontrollable and desperate, voicing Finnick’s name over and over.

His thrusts were frenzied and sloppy, prolonging your orgasm as long as he could. He had lifted your lower back into an arch, enhancing the sensation coursing through your body. Your walls were clenching and pulsing around him, so much that he was abruptly thrown into his own high. His hips stuttered and eventually, his cock filled you as deep as he could, spurting out warm strings of white that coated your inner walls.

He collapsed on top of you, face buried in the crook of your neck. Your fingers wound into his hair, clinging to him as the aftershocks of your orgasm ravaged your body. Legs trembling and mouth panting, you lay there allowing yourself to regain your breath and ability to move.

After pressing a lazy kiss to your neck, Finnick slid off you, falling onto the bed beside you. Hopefully the towel was enough to save the silk sheets.

Now that you were resting, exhaustion had the chance to cloud your mind. You weren’t sure what the customs were after sex—whether you made conversation or simply went to sleep. The latter sounded pretty good though. A warm hand slipped beneath your back, turning your body sideways and pulling you so you were half strewn across Finnick’s chest and legs. You made no effort to resist.

Eyes closed, you listened to the heart beating inside his ribs. Thrumming intensely though starting to return to a normal rate.

“Are you okay?” he asked with a murmur, sounding utterly drained.

His thumb drew gentle patterns on the skin of your waist.

You nodded against his chest, remaining silent. After a little while you finally decided to speak. “I’m glad it was you.” And then after a few more moments of silence, you added, “I wish it was just you.”

You felt him press his lips to the top of your head. A long and emotional kiss. The whole reasoning behind losing your virginity returned to mind. It felt heavy, weighing down the atmosphere in the room. No matter how hard you tried to deny it, what was coming was inevitable. You wouldn’t get to stay with Finnick in this bed. You wouldn’t get to belong to him, or he you. You both belonged to the Capitol. To Snow. No matter how much you wished to belong to each other.

He whispered, “Me too.”

#wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️ #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick x you #finnick imagine #thg finnick #sam claflin #catching fire #the hunger games #mockingjay #katniss and peeta #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair smut #finnick odair fluff #finnick x oc #thg fanfiction

[mylittleredgirl]

the thing about cracking open a long-established popular ship tag on ao3 is that it allows you to be extraordinarily picky, and i think it must be the closest thing i will ever experience to being filthy rich. i scroll along at super speed like no today i am only interested in fics with this precise range of words and one of these three tags. only authors i’ve heard of, please. hmm, i suppose i could consider an unknown quantity given its apparent popularity with the people, but… no, no, this summary doesn’t do it for me. no particular reason, it’s just… eh, i don’t need to explain myself. bring me 50 more like this for me to choose from and we’ll see.

#the modern day evolution of the dicks doth touch bard is a harried personal shopper #on fanfic #anyway i’m like 20 pages deep into the sam/jack tag by kudos and continuing to live my best life #i can’t even imagine how picky some of y’all get to be #ao3

[sams-sass]

Hidden Desires

Hello! I decided to take a break from my series and write this fluffy one-shot full of mutual pining and idiots in love. I hope you enjoy!!

Summary: You and the boys are on a case where hidden desires *wink wink* become known in a very...personal way. 

Warnings: Language, kissing, light smut, implied sex, annoyed Dean, dreamy Sam

*I made up this monster and its lore because I’m cool like that

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You stifled a yawn in the backseat of the Impala, your head rolling against the window. Sam still had his nose buried in the lore book, ignoring the world around him. Dean drummed softly on the steering wheel, his lips moving around the words of a familiar song. You slid forward on the seat and poked your head between them.

"Anyone else hungry?" You asked.

"You are literally always hungry," Dean answered, looking back at you over his shoulder.

"I know." You said dramatically. "I also just want to get out of this car! It's been like seven hours." You whined.

"I got you snacks," Sam said, looking up from his book for the first time.

"I ate them all." You said, looking down at your lap.

"You ate them all?" Sam said, turning in his seat to check for himself.

"Seven. Hours." You said loudly, clapping after each syllable.

"I am not judging here, but that was like 50 dollars worth of gas station snacks." He looked at you then, a slight smirk coming through his confusion.  

"Yeah, but Sammy. You got my favorite ones. You know I can not be held responsible around my favorite snacks." You said, a mocking tone in your voice.

"Fine!" Dean roared, clearly annoyed. "Can we please just get to where we are going? We are only an hour away." He pleaded.

"If I don't wither away by that point." You shot back. A low audible groan from Dean was the only answer you received.

An hour later, you pulled into the motel. You wrinkled your nose at the neon sign that read "vacancy." Yeah, no shit.

The room was a disgusting puke green with yellow floral wallpaper. You placed your duffel on your bed and looked at the sheets for any stains that were an absolute no. They looked surprisingly clean, and you settled down a little bit. You grabbed your key and made your way next door to knock on the boy's door. Sam opened it. He had stripped out of his flannel and jacket, showing off a loose-fitting black tee underneath. Whenever he lost some layers, it reminded you how large he was. Everything about him was just...bigger. You cleared your throat and walked into their room.

"You think these flowers were always this lovely shade of urine, or do you think that happened over time?" You asked sarcastically, running your finger over a tear in the wallpaper.

"I'm going to tell myself it was designed that way," Dean said, putting a six-pack of beer into the fridge.

After putting your stuff away and allowing your muscles to stretch, you climbed back into the Impala and were off into town. The air was darkening, the moon poking out from its slumber. You rested your chin in your hand, looking out the window and daydreaming of a life that could be. A life long forgotten and left behind.

The bar was like every other bar. Slightly dirty. Slightly smelly. But comfortingly predictable. The three of you found a table and sat together, looking over the menu. Dean got up and ordered you drinks to start, knowing you would order him a cheeseburger. You and Sam sat together. A spark of electricity sat low within your abdomen, being this close to him. You cleared your throat and looked over at Sam.

"Tell me about the case, Sammy." You instructed, leaning your elbows on the table.

"Uh, right. All the vics were found with their hearts ripped out, which would make me think werewolf, but the lunar cycle doesn't match. All I can find is that the vics were all single; no one had any significant other. It's the only thing connecting them at this point." Sam explained, his voice growing with confidence as he spoke.

"Huh. Interesting." You said, nodding your head. "We should talk to friends and family. See if we can find anything more about them being single." You suggested. You smiled at Dean as he handed you your drink.

"That's what I was thinking too." Sam nodded, sipping his beer. The tip of his pink tongue came out to lick away the residue of foam left on his lips.

"Great minds." You said softly, watching him smile.

You ordered your food and ate and talked together. There was a lightness to the boys tonight—a fresh case with questions still hanging in the air always made for a long evening. However, all traces of the case were forgotten when Sam said Christian Bale was the best batman. Dean could not stop the argument that came out of him. You listened briefly, but then your mind wandered as it often did. You ran the pad of your middle finger over the rim of your glass and rested your head in your hand. You thought of a home- a place far from monsters and pain and sorrow. A world where you felt safe and happy. And when you picture this world. You pictured Sam. His brown hair fell into his eyes as he leaned over a book he read for pleasure, not knowing how to kill a monster. His smile shines bright on any day, his soul feeling happy and whole instead of worn and used. You dreamed of a world where you could pull him to you. To finally feel his skin glide over yours. To let yourself fall into your most aching desires.

Dean's beer glass came down hard onto the table, interrupting your thoughts. You jumped slightly and then relaxed when you saw it was only him.

"Sam. You take that shit back right now." Dean said, pointing at Sam with his forefinger.

"What? Absolutely not. Twizzlers are amazing movie candy." Sam stood his ground.

"You are out of your fucking mind," Dean said, and even though neither one would admit it, they loved their banter together.

"It's not my fault you think skittles are the height of luxury." Sam challenged, taking another bite of his salad.

"I-no. Ya know what? I don't have to listen to this nonsense. I am getting another beer." Dean said, standing up and throwing his napkin on his plate. "And no. I will not be getting you one." Dean said before turning on his heel and walking away. Even though he was already leaving, you and Sam still heard the "fucking twizzlers," he mumbled to himself angrily.

"Hey, where were you just now?" Sam asked you, his hands pushing away his plate so he could turn to face you fully.

"Oh ya know...just getting lost in my imagination." You said with a smile. Sam smiled back at you.

"Anything good?" He asked.

"Sometimes I just like to picture a world where monsters don't exist and I can just...live. You know?" You said, twisting a cocktail straw in your fingers.

"Oh yeah...I get that." Sam agreed, his eyes looking down at the table. "And uh...well. What do you picture in this world?" Sam asked, his body leaning towards you. He was so close you could smell the beer on his breath. You looked down at his mouth for the briefest of seconds. You swallowed thickly and licked your lips. A small trickle of apprehension fell down your spine. How much could you really open up?

"Well, I picture easy mornings and long nights. Mornings when I wake to my own bed, in my own room full of things that make me happy. Nights where I relax into a comfortable couch that holds me in all the right places, and I never worry about what's lurking in the shadows. I imagine my own space that I get to claim and call mine. I picture all the comforts of normalcy. All the things that are out of our grasp." You said, your eyes unfocused as you trailed into a simpler world. Sam brought you back by taking your hand in his. You felt all the scars and callouses on his skin, reminding you of your harsh reality.  

"I think of all those things, too, Y/N." He said with a sad smile. Sam looked deeply into your eyes, his thumb making absentminded circles on your hand. He found himself getting lost in you again. He felt the physical ache in his chest from being so close to you. He wanted to hold you close and reassure you that this was his favorite version of you. Real and raw, with a touch of poetry mixed in. Sam desperately wanted to tell you he thought of all those things, but with you. He let those unspoken words hang in the air between you. He could hold on for a little longer.

Sam was looking at you so intensely that it made your heart drop. His hand still held yours, his thumb leaving a pattern. You swallowed and tried to steady your breathing. You couldn't tell him he was there with you in this fantasy world. You let that thought drift freely into the box you created for all things Sam and locked it away. You could hold on for a little longer.

Sam seemed to realize he was still holding your hand and quickly let go. He cleared his throat and broke eye contact. You pulled your hand back to yourself and moved your fingers, still feeling the fleeting touch of his skin on yours. --------------------- Dean knocked on the door three times, you and Sam standing behind him. You pulled on your shirt's collar, hating how your suit fit. The door opened, and a man in his mid-thirties stood before you. He was of average height and build, with wavy blond hair and blue eyes.

"Jake Turner?" Dean asked, his left hand flashing his fake badge.

"Yeah?" He answered, his eyes moving between the three of you.

"We have some questions about your friend. William Gardner." Dean said in his authoritative gravely voice.

"Oh, um, sure...come in," Jake answered, opening the door wider for you three to enter.

"How can I help, agents?" Jake asked, placing his hands into his back pockets. You almost felt bad for the guy. He was clearly nervous and thought you were actually F.B.I.

"Can you tell us anything about Will's behavior in the days leading up to his death? Was he agitated? Angry? Distant?" Sam asked, his head tilting to the side.

"No, he was normal. I saw him on Tuesday at the bar; he was talking about work and planning a trip up north once the seasons changed. I didn't notice anything different about him." He said, looking away and shaking his head. "Well, there is one thing I forgot about it until now." He started, looking back over to the three of you. "He mentioned he thought he saw Lucy," Jake said, his brow furrowing.

"Who's Lucy?" Dean asked.

"College girlfriend. She's the one who got away if you know what I mean. He never recovered from that." Jake said, pressing his lips together in a line.

"Thank you for your time." You said with a smile. ----------------------- You fell into the chair and rolled your neck, pressing your fingers into your sore shoulders. The day had been long. You were talking to friends and family of the victims, hearing their desperate plea for answers. You still needed to get to go to the coroner. You stretched your legs and let out a long sigh.

"Well, that didn't answer any questions," Dean said as he placed the takeout boxes on the table before you.

"No, it did not." You said, sitting up taller to look inside for your food. The case was confusing. The victims spread out among gender, race, age, background, career, sexual orientation...everything. Your overactive mind raced with possibilities and clues to try and make the puzzle pieces fit together. But nothing came.

"Here, Y/N." The sound of your name pulled you from your thoughts. Sam stood in front of you with a drink in his extended hand. As you took it from him, your fingers grazed his, and it sent you drifting back to last night when you couldn't stop the feelings that bubbled inside you.

"Thank you." You said, sending a smile Sam's way.

"Yeah." He answered, looking down at the floor. You watched as he sat in the chair next to you, the smell of him invading your nose. His long fingers undid the buttons of his shirt cuffs. Your body melted as you watched him roll the fabric up to his elbow, his muscular forearms showing.

You shook your head and looked down at your untouched food. Suddenly you were hungry for something else. Clearing your throat and shoveling food into your mouth, you let that thought be locked away among the others. ------------------- Your motel room was dark except for the small lamp on your nightstand. You had tried to sleep, but being unable to solve this case bothered you. A low rumble of thunder perked your ears, a small smile growing on your face. You yanked on a pair of sweatpants and opened the door. The air was thick and heavy with the ascending storm. You could taste humidity in the back of your throat as you sat on the concrete under the roof. The rain started quickly then. One, two, and three drops hit the parking lot's asphalt. Then an uncountable amount of rain rapidly fell from the sky, darkening the pavement and making it look slick. Mist from the water sprayed your skin, leaving goosebumps over you.

A door opened behind you, and you felt him before you saw him.

"Hey, Y/N." Sam's calm voice greeted you.

"Hi, Sam." You answered over your shoulder.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked, coming to sit next to you.

"I like thunderstorms." You said.

"Me too." Sam agreed. He watched as you turned your face closer to the mist and steam that bounced off the pavement. Your eyes closed, and the right side of your mouth turned up in a smile. Sam couldn't help but stare. His lips parted, and his breathing became slow and deep. Lightning flashed across the sky, and he watched as the light flickered across your face briefly. His fingers twitched in his lap, his skin begging to touch yours. The rain left tiny droplets across your exposed neck and arms. His tongue ran across his bottom lip, aching for the moisture covering your body.

You opened your eyes and looked over at Sam. He was staring at you, his face difficult to read. The yellow light above the door cast a glow around Sam, making the contours of his face seem deeper and giving his jaw and cheekbones even greater definition than average. You swallowed thickly and felt the slow burn through your core. Water droplets coated his forearms and neck, pooling in the notch in his throat. The front pieces of his hair were damp, dipping into his eyes from the weight.

"What else do you like, Sam?" You asked, leaning back on one arm. He paused, looking away for a moment.

"Books." He said finally.

"Well, we all know that." You said with a smile. He smiled, too, tilting his head down.

"I like honey in my tea." He said after some thought.

"Me too." You practically whispered.

"What else do you like, Y/N?" His voice was thick, and you felt the pull in your chest from how his tongue rolled your name around his mouth.

"I like the way I feel when I am with you." You said in honesty. You watched as Sam's face fell, his eyes going wide.

Suddenly a loud slap of thunder echoed across the sky, making you and Sam both jump. A soft chuckle left your lips, and you nervously tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. Sam pushed himself into a crouching position and held out his hand for you. He helped you up, and you found yourselves face to face once more.

"Goodnight, Y/N." He whispered into the space between your bodies.

"Sweet dreams, Sam." You whispered back, letting yourself have one last look at him before retiring to your motel room. --------------------- Loud banging woke you up, your face rolling into the pillow.

"Y/N!" You heard Dean's deep voice call. You stumbled out of bed, not caring you were just in short shorts and a tank top and ripped the door open.

"What?" You mumbled.

"Get dressed. We got a new vic." Dean said, shoving a cup of coffee into your hand.

"Mmm." You hummed in agreement and closed the door with your foot.

Sam had to ball his hands into fists to stop himself from staring at your body. Your shorts and tank top didn't leave much to the imagination, and Sam suddenly felt restricted in his clothes. He bit his lip to keep himself from smirking at your disheveled state. Hair a mess, eyes half open, and lips puffy from sleep. He so badly wanted to grab your face to his and finally let his desires take control. But he wouldn't. He once again pushed past his feelings and let logic have its way. -------------------- You pulled up to the local college and double-checked the map, ensuring you were at the right house—sorority girls. You could hear the cheering from Dean's inner monologue. The house was huge and old. Massive white pillars and brick complimented the outside. Windows were abundant. Flowers sat nicely on the porch. You knocked this time, thinking the girls might be more apt to speak to you.

The door opened, and a girl stood in front of you. She was what most people thought when they heard "Sorority." She was beautiful. Long blond hair fell to her waist. Her eyes were a clear sky blue lined perfectly with eyeliner and mascara. She wore pink athletic wear, matching leggings, and a crop top that showed her slim waist and toned muscles.

"Good morning." You smiled. You saw her look at all three of you, her eyes lingering on the boys for a little longer than you would like.

"Can I help you?" She asked, her brow furrowed in question.

"We have some questions about Allison Lutz." You said gently, showing the girl your fake badge.

"Oh, yeah. Ally. Of course. Most of us are still here." She said, and you made your way inside. The girls were all together in the main living space. They all looked upset, some more than others.

"We just want to know a little more about Ally. Anything that might help. Was she acting differently? Was she scared, anxious, or distant? Anything." You asked, looking around the room at each girl. One girl stood up; she was also beautiful and looked similar to the girl who opened the door.

"I was her roommate. I could probably answer the most questions." She said, walking over to you.  

"Ok, what's your name?" You asked, taking out your notebook.

"Molly." She answered, wiping her nose with her sleeve.

"Hi, Molly. Let's talk." You said and pulled her to the side for more privacy. Molly told you about Allison's schedule and her friends outside the sorority. She told you that Allison was scared she was failing chem but that she was an excellent student and worked hard.

"Ok, great, thank you." You nodded as you wrote down some of what she said. You decided to throw a hail mary pass. Something was bothering you about this case.

"Molly, did Allison say anything about a past relationship or seeing someone from her past again?" You asked her, hoping she could finally give some answer. Molly looked away, thinking for a moment.

"No, all she talked about was Ben," Molly said after a beat.

"Ben?" You asked.

"Yeah, Ally is...was...totally in love with him. Anytime she wasn't talking about him, she was daydreaming about him." Molly said, and you wrote it down in your notebook.

"Ok, thank you, Molly. Could I get your number in case something comes up?" You asked, and she nodded, reciting her cell to you.

You walked back over to the boys, who were talking to some of the girls. You could tell they were getting about as far as you had gotten. Sam and Dean exchanged a look before glancing back at you. You knew that look, the "we aren't going to find anything here look." Thanking the girls for their time and information, you returned to the Impala.

------------------- She sat huddled with the rest of them. Her rouse fooled even the infamous Winchesters. She watched as you talked to Molly, and a smirk settled over her lips. There was nothing Molly could tell you, and she knew it. She expected hunters would pick up on her trail. What she didn't expect to see...was how he looked at you. Sam Winchester. The once-longed-for Boy King, who had his fair share of demons in his past, looked at you with such longing even she felt it in her blood. She watched as he bit his lip when you started speaking, eyes lingering on your frame. He licked his lips when you brushed past him, chest filling with a heavy breath. An idea formed in her head quickly. She would rid herself of at least two hunters tonight. --------------------- You sat on your bed, your legs crossed under you. Papers and folders full of crime scene photos and lab reports covered your bed. Half-open lore books were spread around as you angrily flipped through the pages. What was it? Why were these people being targeted? You grabbed the last book, flipping back to the section about shapeshifters. An exaggerated sigh left your mouth, but then, you saw it.

Epithymitós, also known as Erastis. Literal Translation: Desire Eater Origin: Greece A subspecies of the Shapeshifter. They stalk the lovesick—those who long for another, whether the feeling is reciprocated or not. They take the form of their victim's love interest, making them feel like they can finally be together. Then, when the victim is at their most vulnerable and their desire is at its highest, they strike. They rip out and consume the hearts of the lovesick. Feasting on the high their victims felt just as they died.

"Oh, my god." You said as you bolted out of your motel room. You banged your fist loudly against the boy's door, Dean answered.

"I figured it out." You said, pushing past him to walk into the motel room.

"The case?" He asked, standing beside you and looking at the book over your shoulder.

"It's an Epithymitós. Literal translation-" You started, pointing to the text.

"Desire eater." Dean finished for you, his face turning quickly to look at you. You stepped away so you could look him in the eye, a smile growing on your face. Suddenly it dawned on you. Your eyebrows stitched together as you looked around the room.

"Where is Sam?" You asked, turning back to Dean.

"I thought he was with you?" Dean said, his voice growing with confusion.

"No..." You trailed off, shaking your head.

"Oh no." Dean's face fell as realization hit him.

You cleared all the takeout boxes and beer bottles off the table in one swipe of your arm. Dean placed a large map of the surrounding area on the table, leaning forward onto his hands. You stood beside him, looking at any site where Sam could be.

"My guess is the monster is trying to get all of us." You assessed.

"I agree," Dean answered, his finger sliding over the map.

"Ok, according to the lore, if needed, they will take the victim to an isolated location." You read directly from the book.

"Ok, and we already said it probably wants us too...so it would pick somewhere we could figure out..." Dean trailed off, leaning closer to the map.

"There!" You pointed to a scattering of factories on the outskirts of town.

"I saw those when we drove in. Not many are in use anymore."

"Let's go." You said, already charging for the door.

Dean pulled out of the parking lot quickly. You and Dean argued about the fastest way to get there the entire drive until Dean practically slid into the gravel. The two of you collected what you needed from the trunk and looked for any clue as to where Sam was being held. The space was massive. About 30, maybe more, abandoned buildings sat before you. You split up, Dean taking one side of the buildings and you taking the other.

Your mind raced as you looked for him—Sam's hidden desire. That's what had gotten you all into this mess, to begin with. Who could it be? You tried to shove down the anger and pain that prickled your heart. Maybe it was Jess. He honestly didn't get over her. How could he? What had happened was awful. You licked your lips and pressed on, putting all feelings of jealousy and confusion into the box for Sam.

After about a half hour of searching, you heard the low sounds of grunts coming from the back of one of the buildings. You quietly paced toward the sound, your gun sturdy in your hands. Rounding a corner, you almost let out a gasp.

Sam sat tied to a chair, his hair falling into his face as he desperately pulled against the ropes. His muscles bulged against the thin fabric of his t-shirt, sweat dripping off his pointed nose. Suddenly, as if someone slapped you, you remembered you needed to help him.

"Oh my god, Sam!" You whisper yelled, running over to him. His head shot up, eyes looking at you with confusion.

"Y/N?" His voice was perplexed.

"Yes, Sam. I'm here." You assured him, placing your gun in the waist of your jeans so you could undo the ropes.

"No, get away from me," Sam said, his shoulders backing away from you.

"What?" You asked, almost hurt. "Sam. It's me." He opened his mouth, but you cut him off. "What were you thinking? Are you out of your fucking mind? We are on a case where we don't know what we are dealing with, and you are just gonna go fuck off with some rando?" You asked, your hands twisting the knots.

"No, it's not like that," Sam said, still unsure.

"Oh, I would love to hear this bullshit explanation!" You started, you couldn't get the ropes, and it was really starting to piss you off.

"Y/N-" Sam tried to interrupt you.

"But lucky for you, I figured it out, and as soon as I get a silver slug in this bitch-we out. I mean, really, Sam. What could possibly-" You stopped dead in your tracks. Your eyes glued to...yourself. You walked through a doorway. You watched as your hips swung and your hands played with your hair. You were wearing nothing but a tank top and underwear.

Your breath stopped, and you glanced back at Sam, who looked like he was about to explode from embarrassment.

"Oh." It was all you could get out.

"Y/N...I..." Sam babbled, his eyes moving quickly between you and...other you. Fake you sauntered over and stopped right in front of you. A devilish grin sat on her lips.

"Don't tell me you didn't know..." She said—her voice like yours but breathy and low.

"I..." You started, your voice was shakey and nervous sounding.

"I..." Fake you said in a mocking tone. Her laughter filled the dark room.

"I'm you, ya know?" She began. She ran her fingers over Sam's shoulders. You watched Sam pull away from her touch, his nose wrinkling in disgust.  

"I know what you think, what you feel. I can see your memories. They are all here for the taking. I know how desperately you want him. I hear your pathetic sobs in the shower. I feel the longing ache in your chest. I can give it to him. I can give him everything you are too scared to take." You felt the embarrassment and anger growing inside you. An unstoppable cocktail of emotion swirling inside you.

"Shut up." You said through gritted teeth. You couldn't look at Sam. You couldn't let yourself see his face. All you could do was wait for Dean and try and reach for your gun. Your hands slowly made their way up to your jeans, your eyes never leaving the monster.

"What are you going to do about-hey!" Fake you snapped. She quickly reached around you and yanked your gun out of your waistband. A small laugh left her mouth. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and shook her head in a tisk tisk tisk motion.

"Oh man, that would have sucked for me!" She threw the gun across the room. It landed with a metallic clang that made both you and Sam flinch.

"Now...let's have some fun, shall we!" She said, biting her bottom lip.

"I like being you...but...since we already saw his desire..." She trailed off, closing her eyes. Suddenly, Sam stood before you. He wore his suit, the black one that made your knees weak. The buttons on his shirt were undone down to his sternum, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He wore no undershirt giving you just a glimpse at his expansive chest. You heard a sharp pull of Sam's (the real one) breath into his lungs. Fake Sam took a step towards you, his fingertips tracing your arm.

"Don't you touch her!" Real Sam growled. His body yanked against the ropes so harshly that the chair scratched the floor.

"Do you know how bad he wants this?" Fake Sam asked you, his eyes scanning yours.

"He wishes for you in the night. He craves your touch. For just one moment of pure impulsivity, not thinking or caring about the consequences." Fake Sam's voice was low and heavy in his chest. You recoiled from his touch, closing your eyes and breathing. You could see why so many people had fallen for this. It would be so easy to give in. You didn't know what was real anymore. You wanted to believe so badly. Was this just a trick? Your mind was swimming with unanswered questions and confusion. You still couldn't make yourself look at the real Sam. You didn't know what you would do if this all were a lie. Did Sam really want you as badly as you wanted him?

A shot rang through the room. Your body curled into itself from the surprise. Fake Sam dropped to the ground before you, a hole in his chest right where his heart would be. You whipped your head around to see Dean, his gun still raised.

"Thank fuck, that's over. Am I right?" Dean said, taking out his pocket knife to cut Sam free from the ropes. Neither you nor Sam made a sound. Dean grabbed Sam by the shoulders, looking him over for injuries. Sam assured him he was fine. Dean then turned to you, his hands taking your face between them.

"You good, kid?" He asked. You could feel the silver ring on his finger against your skin, and you knew his touch had two purposes.

"Yeah, I'm good, Dean." You smiled at him.

"Good!" Dean said. He looked over at "Sam" on the ground. "Well, this should be an awkward drive back." Dean assessed, pressing his lips into a line.

He wasn't lying. Although the drive was only about five minutes, it felt like days. The clock never seemed to move, and you swore everyone could hear your pounding heart. You twisted your fingers in your lap, your eyes staring at the back of Sam's head. You needed to know. Your overactive mind couldn't handle leaving everything that happened in the past. You knew that you desired him—more than anything. Could he feel the same? Could it really be that simple?

Dean put the car in park, and you basically bolted from the car. You closed your door and lay against the wood. You took large breaths into your lungs. Licking your lips, you ran your fingers through your hair and began to pace.

A knock on your door made your world stop. You slowly opened the door, your eyes finding his hazel ones.

"I can't just leave this." He said quickly as if he didn't know what else to say.

"I can't either. Come in." You said, taking a step back.

"Sam...I-"

"Everything was true." Sam blurted out. "Well, at least from my end. Everything said was true. I can't stop thinking about you. You are the only thing I ever want. I wake up every day wondering how I can make you smile. I go to sleep every night counting the ways you stopped my heart. I am constantly fighting against myself, telling myself that it's too risky to care for you the way I do. It's too risky to give into my desires because if anything ever happened to you-." Sam stopped for a moment. His hands raked through his hair. He looked flushed. He grabbed your shoulders then, looking you directly in the eye. "Everything in me wants everything in you. The good. The bad. The bliss. The heartache. I can't keep pushing these feelings down. You are the light for me, Y/N. All I could ever need rests in you." Sam gently tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

You just stared at him, your mouth slightly agape. Your breathing became ragged, and you didn't know how your heart wasn't beating through your shirt; it was racing so fast. His hands slid up your shoulders to hold your face in his hands. His thumb stroked your cheek lovingly.

"Now would be a great time for you to say something." He whispered, a small smile on his perfect lips. You let out a breath and smiled, licking your lips.

"Sam, there are no words to describe how you make me feel. Everything said was true for me too. I do ache for you. I long for you. I cry for you almost every night. You invade every thought that I have. Waking or dreaming, it is only you that I see. I want everything with you, too, Sam. I can't deny it any longer. You're the one for me." You said, your hands wrapping around his waist to hold him close.

"We can have everything," Sam said. His face was coming closer to yours. "Except you don't have to cry for me." He whispered, his breath tickling your skin.

"Yes, I do." You said before Sam gently brushed his lips against yours, his mouth hesitant initially. You pushed up onto your tippy toes to deepen the kiss. His hands trailed down your body, caressing the skin under your shirt. You twisted your hands into his hair, feeling the strands between your fingers. It didn't take long for the kiss to become hungry and raw. Your mouth opened to his exploring tongue. Your breath mingled, the pool of desire in your core leaking throughout your body.

"Why did we wait so long?" Sam mumbled before lifting you off the ground easily, his body pinning yours against the wall. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Your nails dug into the fabric of his shirt, pulling and yanking until he took it off. Fingers traced the contours of his body. You committed every dip to memory. Every ridge. Every scar. Another letter in your story. His lips left yours, only to attach to your neck and chest. His nose moved the fabric of your flannel out of the way, so his mouth could taste more of you.

"I want you so bad." You whispered into his ear.

"Fuck, Y/N," Sam said before ripping your top from your body. He fell to his knees before you, placing you back onto your feet. His mouth was kissing and sucking your waist above your jeans. You pulled on his hair, letting him know you wanted more. His long fingers quickly undid the button on your pants, and before you knew what was happening, his tongue was closing around your covered core. You moaned at the heat from his mouth. You felt the pulse grow between your legs.

Sam gathered you into him again, his strong arms carrying you to the bed. He placed you under him, caging you in with his forearms. His hands lovingly pushed the hair away from your forehead.

"Promise me we will handle things together from now on." He said, his voice soft.

"I promise. It's you and me." You assured him, looking deeply into his hypnotizing eyes.  

"You and me." He nodded in agreement.

You smiled before pulling his perfect mouth back onto yours. ----------------------- To the untrained eye, things looked the same-Dean driving. Sam hunched over a book in the passenger seat. And you, surrounded by snacks and books in the backseat. However, things could not be more different. You and Sam were an unstoppable force. Your love for one another changed your lives. You were his. Completely. He was yours. Totally. When he looked at you, you never felt more in control and vulnerable at the same time. He was there to catch you when your mind took you into the highest of unknowns. His strong yet gentle hands pulled you up from the pits of your darkest days. You showed him a forgiveness and understanding that he had never known. He was your always. You were his forever.

You leaned forward, placing your chin on the seat between the boys.

"Hey, Dean..." You started.

"Y/N...I swear to god..." Dean warned, his finger coming up and eyes closing in premature annoyance.

"I'm hungry." You said flatly.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Dean screamed. The car filled with the three of you yelling over one another. 

The waning sunlight fell over the Impala as Dean pulled into a diner.

Tagging: @thinkinghardhardlythinking @watermelonlipstick @lacilou  @kingofthetwats @bellabean5591 @coldgothapricotalmond @briskywalker @gia-25 @reconsidering-my-life-choices @paryl @cutesymrsinuyashagamer @katrynec @arctusluna @samfreakingwinchester @idreamofplaid @zeppette @katherine-ann1 @maliburenee @nancymcl @babymxxse​

#Sam Winchester #Sammy Winchester #i love him #mutual pining #idiots in love #sam and dean #SPN #spn fic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #sam fanfiction #sam fanfic #sam fantasy

[moonlight-rider25]

Winchester Girl. Chapter 1

Warnings: Rated PG13, swearing, smoking, fluff, angst

Present day, Massachusetts 11:49pm.

…"Well, aren't you two a sight for sore eyes."

You take a deep breath and swing the door open for the two towering men to slip in between. Latching it behind you, you exhale heavily and slowly turn towards them, they both stand with a solemn look on their face as they stare back at you.

"Glad to see your two smiling faces…" You say sarcastically as you cross your arms over your chest.

"...So what's the occasion, boys?"

Sam wipes his hand over his mouth and begins to stir anxiously before you. Dean keeps his eyes set on you, hands deep in his pocket with his usual stoic face resting in place.  You roll your eyes and turn towards the doorway of the small kitchen; adjacent to the living room. 

It wasn't much and it sure wasn’t fancy, but it was yours and you were proud of it. Left to you by your gran, you couldn't complain of the slightly run down two bedroom home you had once grown up in with your mom and sister. Strutting over to the fridge, you swing the door open and closed with a smack. Returning only a moment later with two beers in hand. You cautiously extend them out towards the boys and they take them without a word while you seat yourself down against the fake leather sofa. They pop the covers off, resting them on the China cabinet nearby, and take long sips; still refusing to utter a word. You peer towards the TV and grasp your vodka soda, from the side table. You take a long sip from the cracked, repurposed KFC straw facing away from them.

"..Gonna make me drink alone?" You ask coyly, still looking towards the small flat screen.

Finally you hear their footsteps approach from the back of the sofa and watch Sam ease into the old, tan, oversize recliner, somehow still making it seem small.  Leaving Dean to perch uneasily at the opposite end of the sofa by your feet.

You sip from the straw without meeting their precarious looks and clear your throat. 

"Look I got a 9 to 5 to get to in the morning, and PTA after school, can we please skip the guessing games, and get to the point?" 

Sam rubs his brow as Dean stares blankly down towards the coffee table and they stir anxiously. 

"We didn't mean to intrude, Y/N, we just need a little help on this one.." Sam finally utters apologetically.

"No shit, I assumed that much. Why else would you two lumberjacks show up unannounced at my door?" 

You state coldly reaching down towards the coffee table for your pack of L&M reds. You pluck one from the pack and toss it back on the table. You place the slim white cigarette between your lips and feel around your pants pockets for your lighter. Fishing down into the crease of the couch, only coming up with stale goldfish and matchbox cars; you sit up and reach further into the gritty couch crevice.  Finally hitting a familiar feeling with your fingertips, you peer up to spy Dean's hand extended with his shiny metal zippo lighter ready, inches from your cigarette. You reach over and puff eagerly, lighting it on the flame and peer up into his glimmer green eyes for a brief second before sitting back against the couch crossing your legs again and exhaling slowly.

"When are you gonna quit those, Y/N?..." Dean asks, snapping the lighter closed and dropping it back in his jacket pocket. 

"Oh, save it.." You say after taking another long inhale.  "...100% of non-smokers die too… especially in this line of work." 

Dean stares daggers at you as you flick the end of the cigarette into the ashtray. You boldly meet his look again, bringing the butt of the cigarette to your lips and sucking at it again.

"Vamp nest." He says coldly in his deep intimidating voice. "A big one…" He says craning his head over to eye Sammy. 

"They, uhh, apparently have been targeting young women…" Sam adds, once meeting Dean's look.

He swallows and brushes the stray hairs from his face as he stutters to get the words out.

"Where?" You ask, exhaling a vast white cloud of smoke from your mouth directly towards; Dean who grimaces.

"About a day's drive from here.." Sam answers with a nod.

You flick the ash into the ashtray beside you again and turn back towards the TV.

"..Think it can wait till tomorrow morning?" You ask with another puff thick in your throat.

It was Thursday night, you were mom free Friday after 8am to Sunday at 5pm. Sam and Dean both know and most of the time, respectfully understand this; after all, it was obviously the biggest reason you weren't as active in hunting, as you wanted to be. 

Sam remains silent, nodding in his seat after taking a long sip of his Bud Weiser.  Dean looks back towards you, and you slowly meet his eye, taking a sip from your straw.

"It'll have to be, won't it?" He says with a devilish look in his eyes.

You crack a sarcastic smile through the straw in your mouth and roll your eyes as you turn back towards the TV. 

You finish your butt and stub it out, leaning forward on the couch before getting up and making your way towards the linen closet to grab sheets, pillows, and blankets for them. You hear them mumble low in their thick deep voices, not as quietly as they probably imagine; and make sure to slam the closet door shut, signaling your return. Your arms full of bedding for them, you see Dean relaxed against the back of the couch with his feet kicked up on the coffee table. His arm outstretched against the top of the plush sofa where you had just been. They both turn towards you with curious looks on their faces.

"So, one in the recliner, one on the pullout…" you say slowly, rounding the couch. "...That or you can share the pullout…" you add through a smile, placing the bundle of blankets on the couch.

They both crack a smile and you look around trying to make sure everything is in order for them.

Dean eyes you again with a daring look; “...Sammy can’t bunk with you?” He says with a snicker.

You glare towards him with a warning look.

"Feel free to use the shower…help yourself to snacks.." You gesture towards the kitchen.

"You uhh… you got any of those little foil wrapped things? …come in a two pack?" Dean asks with a smirk.

You exhale a quiet sigh, biting back a smirk, and watch as Sam tries to hide his own smile creeping across his face.

"Pop Tarts?" You ask through a snicker.

Dean's face lightens up as he allows his smile to grow across his lips.

"Yeah! Those little devils are delicious!" He tells you, straightening up against the couch a bit.

You allow the laugh to linger in the air as you stride towards the kitchen. You reach up into the cabinet and grab the two boxes perched on the faded painted shelf; brown sugar for Sam and Chery for Dean. You swing the cabinet shut and walk back out into the living room, kicking a few action figures to the side in the process. You hold up the two foil covered packages and they both beam a smile in your direction. You toss them their pop tarts, hearing them eagerly tear into their packages as you head for the bolt lock on the front door. You fasten it and dip back into the kitchen against the doorway swatting at the light switch on the wall. You hear Dean's eager hum as he indulges into the breakfast snacks; while reaching for the metal cord on the lamp beside the couch. You grab the remote from the coffee table and toss it in Sam's lap, who's also enjoying the child's snack. 

"Don't stay up too late," you tell them, brushing your fingers through Sam's thick head of hair as you trek back towards the hall to your room. "Finns an…"

"..An early riser, I know… we know!" Dean remarks through his mouthful.

“...God, you need a haircut..” You joke towards Sam.

He chuckles a bit and you trail away from the two down the hall.

You walk past your doorway and stand quietly for a moment watching Finley sleep soundly, with the gentle blue hue of his dinosaur nightling on his bed stand. You pace back towards your room and quietly shut your door behind you before slipping into an old oversized tee shirt, and drop your bottoms to the floor. You plug your phone in, and place it on your nightstand before rotating the little knob on your lamp; the room growing dark. The hushed murmur from the TV in the living room, fills the air as you roll over in bed and sigh a deep exhale of relief. 

As much as you hate to admit it, there is a huge sense of relief knowing the two Winchester brothers sit out in your living room tonight.  Not a goddamn thing to fear; burglar, ax murderer, or the creatures that haunt most people's nightmares; would be getting very far into your house tonight. You recall a time where you spent every night with that kind of reassurance… but it had been years since then.  Regardless of how many nights alone you spent in your bed reminding yourself not to worry of things that may go bump in the night…your past had a funny way of always showing back up at your worn out New England door. Little did those tall handsome Winchester boys know that a little part of you each night was always hoping they would... 

~~~~~

The sun peeks through the faded shades as you hear the little peppering footsteps tear down the wooden hallway. You roll over in your bed peering at the alarm clock 5:12 am glows back at you. You sigh, turning back over and groaning against your pillow.

“Oh nice, he let me sleep in 12 minutes today..”

You pull the blankets up over your head and sigh again trying to shake the sleep from your head…then your heart drops into your stomach 

"Ahhhh!" 

The blood curdling scream that haunts your nightmares. You burst from your bed and rush towards the living room, completely forgetting your attire and the fact that the two Winchester boys are…were still sleeping in the living room. 

"Uncle Dean!" Finn yells, sprinting across the living room floor. 

"Finn! No!" You shout rushing towards him, but it's too late; he lands feet first in the middle of the pull out, where Dean's limp half covered body lays. Dean jumps, as Finn's body lands in the middle of him.

He grunts and coughs rolling over and sitting up, eyeing you who stands in nothing more than your old tee shirt, barely covering your butt.

"...Sorry!" You say lifting Finn off of the impressively gorgeous looking man and placing him on the floor beside you.

Sam, hearing the commotion stirs awake from his rest and tosses the blankets from his huge torso sitting up in the beaten up recliner. His bare chest and giant shoulders, glistening as he reaches over for Finn.

"Heeey, buddy!" Sam says through his sleep ridden voice.

Finn scampers over and crawls up into Sam's lap, perching himself on the large flat arm of the old tan chair. 

"Oh, jeeze, watch your feet bud…" Sam says adjusting the blankets over his lap.

You curl your lips up into a tightly pinched smirk and cover your mouth realizing how exposed you are standing with your back to Dean.

"What are you guys doing here?" Finn asks in his innocent little voice.

"Uhhhg.. were, we uhhh…" Sam stutters looking from yours and Dean's face for an answer.

Dean rolls over in his spot sitting up and batting his eyes, still not sure as to what the hell is going on around him.

"Uncle Sam and Dean are just in town on business, so they stopped by to say hello!" You lie coyly through your best mom face.

Finns face peers up at you with a slight scowl. 

"Why can't they ever visit when I'm not in school?" He asks with a frown.

"Uncle Sam and Dean's work is everyday, buddy.” You try to console the sad little face peering up at you. “They don’t get weekends and vacations like you do..." You add, turning on your feet to head towards the kitchen. You grab a pillow from Dean's bed and playfully smack him with it as you walk by. 

"Why don't you go get dressed and let Uncle Sam and Dean clean up the living room. You call over your shoulder heading towards the kitchen.

You turn the faucet on, and dump the coffee grounds from the day before.  You hear Finn's footsteps putter back up the hall and hear the groans of the men stirring. 

"You guys got about 90 seconds to make yourself decent before he's back out here…" you call from the kitchen. 

The water trickles into the dingy coffee maker and you grab the hand towel nearby, eyeing the many empty beer bottles placed on the counter..

"..We're decent.." You hear Dean argue in a slurred groan. 

"Mmmm… I'm sure.." You mumble to yourself through a smile, tossing handfuls of empties into the recycling.

They clink against each other and you hang the hand towel back up on the slim metal rack before shutting the cabinet door.

"...More decent that you are…’mommy’…" a deep growl of a voice echoes from behind you.

Spinning around, you see Dean standing in the kitchen doorway in his jeans and Grey t shirt; his hair messed a bit from sleeping. You scowl at him backing up against the kitchen sink and flash him a sarcastic smirk. 

"Sorry, I was too busy saving your.. ‘pitched tents’ from major injury…" you tell him, biting back a cackle. "...my bad!" You snicker.  

He looks you up and down leaning against the wooden doorway with a thick smirk on his face. Crossing his arms, he allows his eyes to linger up and down your long legs. You spin around choking on your laughter a bit and reach up on your toes towards the cabinets quickly realizing your oversized tee... is not over sized enough. You lower yourself back down, inching carefully towards him before standing directly between him and the small space between him and the door frame.

"...Cups are up there.." You tell him, reaching up and ruffling his bed head. “..Help yourself.." 

You mutter quickly walking behind the back of the couch by Sam who's buttoning up his flannel.

You hear Dean mutter something under his breath, as you pass by Finn in the hall who's proudly wearing a superman cape over his ninja turtle housecoat.

"Is she wearing pants?!" Sam asks surprised.

"Nah..nope.." Dean answers before he's greeted by Finn's wonderful outfit choice.

You pop a pair of loose Nike shorts on and fly back out past the couch again. Dean still propped up against the doorway of the kitchen.

"You make a better door than a window.." you tell him, slipping again between him and the wooden frame. 

He snickers but says nothing else as you reach into the freezer and pluck a couple frozen Waffles from the box. You plug the toaster in and drop them down into the metal slats before pressing down the handle.  Out in the living room you hear the giant plastic tote of action figures; crash onto the floor.

"Finn!" You sigh heavily, reaching up in the cabinets for three mugs. "You need to make sure to clean all those up before school today, hear me?" 

You grab the still dripping coffee pot and pour the mugs full. A small 'mmmhmm' coming from the living room as you wipe up the coffee splatter.  You hand Dean his brimming cup of black coffee and grab the cream from the fridge adding a dash to yours and Sam's mug. 

"Uhg, thanks..Y/N…you didn’t have to do..." Sam says with a slight smile as you hand him his mug.

You sip eagerly from your own cup and swipe your pack of cigs off the coffee table from last night, shooting him a knowing look.  He smiles and nods as you pop a cigarette between your lips and peer around the living room for the remote you tossed in Sam's lap. He nods with a grunt through his mouthful of coffee and reaches beside the recliner, handing the small black TV control to you.  

"Thanks!" 

You aim it at the small screen and flash on Finns current favorite Netflix show. You swipe the butt out of your mouth and step over towards Finn who's all too busy with ‘Thor’ at the moment. 

"Keep it down, babe. It’s still early for Uncle Sam and Dean, okay?" You tell him, pressing a kiss on the top of his golden brown hair. 

He nods and begins clashing the plastic action figure into an unwilling opponent and you pop the butt back in your mouth. You realize once again your without a lighter;

"Fuck!" You blurt out.

"That's a bad word, mommy." Finn tells you plainly.

"Yes, it is baby, I'm sorry.." You rush back towards the kitchen where Dean has moved enough out of the way of the door and light the propane stove. It ticks a few times before igniting and you crane your head down towards the flame inhaling to light your cigarette on the hot blue wave.

"Yeah…that seems safe.." Dean sarcastically remarks watching you. 

He takes a long sip of coffee and you remember the Waffles in the toaster. As if on instinct; they pop up and you grab a plastic superhero plate from the clean dish rack and plop the Waffles onto the plate. Along with a cup of apple juice and the smallest fork you can find in the utensil drawer; you place them at the table and call over to Finn for breakfast. 

Finley darts through the kitchen with Iron man and Thor battling midair.  He scoots sideways into his seat, making sure to prop them up and watch him as he eats. 

You turn towards the counter, cigarette in hand gulping back the rest of your coffee and pour another cup.

 "Mommy!" 

"Right, syrup…" 

You turn back towards the fridge and grasp onto the sticky bottle of 'real Vermont syrup' clanking it onto the table next to Finn. 

"Not too much!" You remind him as you strut back out of the kitchen. 

Dean takes a seat at the kitchen table with Finn and you hear a muffled; "Whoa buddy, that's enough..don't ya think?"

Sam folds the bedding up and meets your eye. 

"Oh, don't worry about that!" You tell him, taking a long puff. "I gotta throw it in the wash first." 

You hold the cigarette between your teeth and reach out over Dean's pull out filling your arms with the mismatched linens. Sam hesitantly hands you the 'neatly folded' sheet and you smile through your cigarette. 

"You guys hungry?" You ask as you exhale making your way up towards the hall, throwing the pile of laundry in your arms onto the floor in front of the washing machine.

"Uhhh, no were…were fine, thanks Y/N.." Sam says shyly.

"I got more poptarts." You say walking back out to the living room. 

Sam chuckles a bit, shaking his head; you both turn towards the kitchen hearing Dean's chair screech against the floor as he hears you mention 'pop tarts'. 

"Well…I'm fine.." Sam adds with a chuckle. 

You take a final long puff from your L&M and snuff it out in the ashtray. 

"Sorry Sam, I'd make you an omelet or something if I had the time.." You tell him apologetically.

You stop for a moment, crossing your arms and stare up at the tall man before you; taking in all the little details you remember…

His brown hair framing his face, his eyebrows flustered up when he talks, his little thin lips puckered as he listens to you speak, and the faint stubble trying desperately to grow in around his mouth and chin.  He's got a few more pronounced wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, but other than that all you can see is the man you once fell in love with.  

Sam's eyes dart back and forth as his smile falls away from his face then reappears again.

"It's fine, seriously Y/N..were fine."

He tries to meet your eye, showing his sincerity.

"Fine, and dandy!" Dean mutters loudly through a mouthful of pop tarts from the kitchen.

Both you and Sam laugh a bit hearing Dean in the other room. Sam clears his throat a bit and sets his mug down on the coffee table and exhales with a slight rock in his step before meeting your eyes again.

“Well you look, uh, good.. Been taking care of yourself?” he asks hesitantly, stuffing his hands down into his jeans pockets. 

You pause a moment, craning your head to the side a bit as you watch him shift uncomfortably.

“...Trying to..” You tell him with a playful scoff. 

He smiles and meets your eyes again for a moment, before shifting away quickly.  You sigh and turn your face down to the floor, spying his hands anxiously fidgeting within his pockets. You look back up holding your gaze on him for a moment.

“You don’t gotta be nervous Sam…” you tell him, shaking your head a bit. “...It's just me…”

He scoffs with a quick smirk, plucking his hands out from his pockets and planting them firmly at his waist.  Finally he sighs and meets your look, without darting in different directions. 

“You look good too, Sam. I’m glad to see it..” You add still watching him from your spot.

You sigh and shake your head a bit glancing at the clock on the wall beside the door.

"Shit!” You gasp frantically, “I gotta hop in the shower!" 

"Bad word mommy!" Finn reminds you from the kitchen.

"You're right, I'm sorry baby!" You call trailing back down the hallway.

“Help yourselves to whatever!” You call out down the hall, spinning the dial of the shower on.

~~~~

Some time later you dash back out towards the living room, your hair flung up in a towel. You pick up Finn's sticky Waffles plate and drop it into the sink before grabbing a third cup of coffee. …Or you would have, but you spy the empty pot instead.

You dump the dripping coffee grounds into the trash, and start a new pot before dashing back out to the living room for your pack of cigarettes. Finn sits on the floor in front of Dean and Sam who are both fully dressed now and sipping their coffee.

"Sorry…" Dean calls from behind his mug. "...didn't mean to finish it on you." 

"It's fine, I'm making a new pot.." You say reaching down between the couch cushions for your lost lighter.

Dean takes a long dramatic sip with a long smack at the end and Sam chuckles in his seat, clearly amused with the cartoons playing on the TV.

"Oh here.." Dean says, patting himself up searching for something in his jacket.

He extends his hand out, with his treasured vintage zippo extended towards you.

"Oh…thanks, but.." You stand before him with your finally recovered; plastic pink lighter in hand. 

You light your cigarette and pull down the towel from your head marching back off towards your bedroom. 

"Finn, try and use the bathroom before we go, please!" You shout from your room. “And change…you cant wear pjs to school!”

You slick some mascara on your lashes and dollop your armpits in some cheap ladies antiperspirant. You smear on some chapstick and brush through your hair just in time for Finn to appear at your doorway; eager and ready for the day as usual. You crouch down a bit, and plant a big sloppy kiss on his cheek before ruffling his hair into place.  

"Alright, you ready!?" You ask gleefully.

Back out towards the living room yet again you snatch Finn's lunchbox and stuff a snack pack, some knock off veggie chips, an apple, and a tiny water bottle into the black and yellow batman lunch box. 

Sam and Dean stand, looking towards you as you throw your purse over your shoulder and step into your flip flops. You help Finn with his backpack and turn back to face the two men.

"I'll be back in like 30..." You say, remembering to grab your pack of cigarettes and lighter off the coffee table.

"Y/N…do you…is there anything we can do?..." 

"No you're fine, I'll be right back!" You tell them frantically, peering down at your phone.

Sam elbows Dean, who tries to hold back the scoff, turning towards you.

"..I can take the kid.." Dean says as he clears his throat.

"...In ‘baby’!?" You ask with a snicker.

They peer out the window, then back towards each other. 

"..No, we'll be fine, don't worry about it." You tell them again.

They both sigh and you turn towards the door ushering Finn out.

"Y/N, we can help, just tell us what to do.." Sam says calmly in his reassuring tone.

The door is only ajar when you stop; sighing a deep breath before closing your eyes for a quick moment. 

"Okay, fine.. go do the…dishes or something.." You reply before shutting the door behind you.

"Dude, I don't remember her being this…this.." 

"Give her a break, Dean." Sam says with a long exhale. "She's a mom, now, and, …she's doing the best she can.."

~~~~

You bite your lip sitting at the red traffic light watching the clock tick onward in the dash. 

"Come on…Friday…you can do this.." You mumble under your breath through a deep sigh.

You dig your nails into the back of the pleather steering wheel as you sit agitated in your seat.

"Mom?" Finn asks from the back seat.

"Yeah, bud?" You reply, peering towards him in the rear view.

"...where's my homework folder?"

You roll your eyes as another deep breath courses through you.

"..probably on the kitchen floor where you left it…" You reply regrettably. 

The light finally blinks green and you roll out through the intersection. The crossing guard waves you on into the line up beside the school, and you park the car before jumping out and opening the back door for Finn. 

"It's alright, it's Friday we'll get your homework to Mrs. Barnes Monday morning, okay?" 

Finn hops out with a frown on his face. You straighten his hair once again and help him loop his arms through the straps of his backpack. You kneel down eye level to him and peer up into his bright little blue eyes.

"It's Friday!" You cheer quietly to him. 

He casts you a small, meek smile.

“Mom, can I stay with you this weekend?” Finn asks with a slight heartbreaking frown.

“No, babe, it's daddy's weekend, you know that..” You tell him apologetically.

“Just tonight then?” he pleads. “Just to say bye to Uncle Sam and Dean?”

You sigh, unable to give him an answer you or he wants to hear.

“Please?” 

You bite back your bottom lip peering up into his sad little blue eyes.

“...We’ll see them again. We always do..” you huff in a regrettable tone.

“It’s not fair!” Finn protests angrily. “Why does dad have to ruin everything!?” 

“Hey, come on…it’s not his fault…”

You stand back up pecking a kiss on top of his head and usher him down the sidewalk towards the front of the school.  

"I'll see you Sunday!" You call cheerfully, as he angrily strides towards the front door.

You stand with your arms crossed watching, making sure he disappears between the two giant blue doors before you allow your gaze to drop.

You sigh as you regrettably sulk back towards the car, recalling what you told him; ‘we’ll see them again..’  hopefully…  

You shake the thought from your head. The sun is already beating down at full force under the bright blue skies as you pluck the doors handle and seat yourself against the driver's seat.  You turn the key and flip the AC on; its cool air blasts against your face as you shift the car into reverse.  You back out and head towards the wretched red light that never allows you a free pass. You stare off into the opposite direction of traffic and wait patiently; when your phone rings. You fish around in the passenger side seat for the vibrating brick and click the green answer button.

"Hello?..."

Tags: @nancymcl @123passwort LMK, if youd also like to be tagged in these!

#dean and sam #sam and dean #dean #dean winchester #dean x reader #reader x dean #reader x sam #sam fanfic #sam #sam winchester #dean and sam fanfic #dean and sam winchester #dean and sam supernatural #dean supernatural #supernatural fandom #supernatural dean #supernatural fanfic series #supernatural #spn #sam and dean fanfic #supernatural sam and dean #sam and dean spn #dean fanfic #sam supernatural #winchester #winchester girl #the winchesters #supernatural fanfic #suoernatural fanfiction #dean imagine

[nastybuckybarnes]

Car Rides

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: Road trips are usually pretty boring, but you and Bucky find a way to pass the time.

Warnings: Smut, Public sex, Car sex, Language, Fluff, Mutual Pining,

Word Count: 1.8K

A/n: I got this request AGES ago apparently and I'm only just seeing it now! hope y'all enjoy!

~*~

"Can you move your seat up?"

There's a brief pause, almost like Sam's thinking about it, before - "no."

Silence hangs heavily in the car for a long moment as Steve drives and you can't help but feel bad for Bucky.

He's squished in behind Sam, While you've got a decent amount of room behind Steve.

"We can switch, if you want?" You offer quietly, nudging Bucky's knee with yours.

"Steve's not stopping the car just so Terminator can feel more comfortable," Sam interjects, ignoring the ice of Bucky's stare.

"I'm sure we can switch spots while he's driving. We've done far more on missions with less room, I have faith. Unbuckle your seatbelt."

"Yes ma'am."

You take off your own seatbelt, ignoring Steve's warning look in the rearview mirror.

"Okay, I'm gonna climb over you in the middle seat so when you scoot over I'll climb over and then we'll be set!"

Foolproof! Brilliant!

Bucky scoots over to the middle and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself, then grab his shoulders and stretch one leg over his lap.

Steve chooses that particular moment to hit a bump in the road, sending you tumbling into Bucky and forcing his face into your chest.

Your shirt of choice today is fairly low cut, leaving little to the imagination, even less now that Bucky's face is pressed to your goods.

Regaining your coordination feels like it takes a lifetime, but you eventually manage to pry your boobs out of Bucky's face and plop down in the seat behind Sam.

Your heart hammers in your chest and you avoid looking at Bucky with all your might as you put your seatbelt on.

It's no secret that there's tension between the two of you that has only been growing the more time you spend together, but now? Now that you pretty much forced him to motorboat you?

Horrible. Stupid. The worst idea you've ever had ever.

You almost pray for the car to roll off a cliff to save you from the embarrassment licking up your spine.

The ride is silent for a little while, with some of Sam's music being the only thing stopping it from being too heavy, and soon his soft snores accompany the tunes.

After maybe about half an hour, Bucky's knee brushes against yours once briefly, then rests against it more firmly, with purpose.

Your gaze darts over to him but he's got his eyes focused out the window. You let your eyes fall to where he's manspreading into your personal space, and freeze when your eyes land on the bulge in his pants.

The bulge that certainly was not there before the two of you switched spots, not that you looked.

And now you can't tear your eyes away from it.

Sure, all this time the two of you have been flirty and a little more than friendly, but never to this extent.

Your eyes raise to his face once more and your heart stops for a moment when you meet his gaze.

You're caught now.

Swallowing hard, you glance at his crotch once more then turn to look out your own window, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt at fighting the warmth that's quickly spreading.

Bucky rolls his window down, and the light mechanical whirring sound masks the soft gasp that leaves you when his hand lands on your thigh.

You glance down at where his hand is, watching as his fingers flex as he squeezes your supple flesh.

Your body acts on its own, thighs spreading slightly and giving him the green light he needs to slide his hand up closer to your centre.

Eyes focused on the rearview mirror, you slowly grab Bucky's discarded jacket and drape it over your lap while spreading your legs further, successfully hiding his fingers as they dust over your core.

"Cold?" He asks, glancing at you as he slides his hand down your pants.

You swallow hard and nod, leaning back and breathing through your mouth as he slides a thick finger through your folds.

"With the window open it's a little breezy, but the fresh air is nice," you whisper, breath hitching when he rubs your clit gently.

He nods his agreement, coating his middle finger in your essence then slowly pushing it inside of you.

"Clears the head."

You nod, eyes falling shut as he begins a steady pace, pushing on your walls deliciously slow.

"Exactly," the words are a mere breath on your lips as you lose yourself in the feeling of him.

He leans his head back, his eyes focused on your face as he massages your walls, pulling his finger out only to push two right back in.

He watches as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, brows furrowing as you try your hardest to stay quiet through the slow building pleasure.

It's almost torturously slow, and he knows that, but watching your small twitches and movements has Bucky's dick growing hard enough to cut diamonds.

"We got a good day for this, huh?" Bucky asks, grinning when you struggle to open your eyes.

"Yeah it's... good... it's really good," you whisper, eyelids fluttering slightly before you finally raise your glassy eyes to his.

"I could go for a snack soon though, something sweet to eat."

"Mhmm," you let out a soft moan of agreement as he slips a third finger inside you, pumping them in and out at a slightly faster speed than before.

Not fast enough to draw attention to the two of you, but fast enough for you to be struggling to keep still.

"Next gas station isn't too far out. They probably won't have much but we can stop there to grab a snack and stretch," Steve's voice says from the front seat, his eyes glancing at you and Bucky in the rearview mirror before focusing on the road again.

"Sounds good to me," Bucky says, his voice low and his mischievous eyes focused on you as you nod your agreement.

You dig your head back into the headrest, toes curling in your shoes as his palm rubs against your clit with every thrust of his fingers inside of your wet heat.

He stretches your walls deliciously, enhanced senses picking up the tangy sweet smell of your cunt on every gust of wind that blows through the car.

He can't help but lick his lips, greatly looking forward to tasting you once he's finished enjoying fingering your tight snatch.

Eyes slowly opening, you let your head roll to the side eyes finding his as you breathe softly through your mouth.

He grins cheekily at you and stuffs his fingers inside of you a little harder, watching in smug satisfaction when your face screws up with a mixture of pleasure and pain.

The car slowly rolls to a stop and Steve lets out a groan.

"All right. I'm gonna stretch my legs and grab a snack. Are you guys coming in?" Steve's eyes find Bucky's as he opens the door.

Sam jolts upright with a groan, rubbing his face then yawning and pulling off his seatbelt.

"I'm gonna come inside," He says groggily, stumbling out of the car and stretching.

"I think we're good back here, she's falling asleep," Bucky whispers, giving your clit a particularly rough rub before pulling his fingers out of you.

Sam and Steve head into the gas station, and as soon as they are out of sight Bucky is tossing the jacket off of your lap and yanking your pants down your legs.

He licks his fingers clean while using his other hand to undo his belt and shuck his pants down his thighs, exposing his weeping hot cock.

"We don't have much time, sweetheart, better make it count. N'when we get to the cabin I'll fuck you nice and slow and proper," he promises quietly.

You straddle his waist once more, wet core dripping onto his lap and Bucky can't help but hiss when he slides his aching cock through your folds.

He rubs your clit a few times then slides inside in one quick thrust, pressing his mouth to yours to swallow the sound of your moan.

With the window open, you guys aren't exactly safe. Anyone could drive or walk by and Sam and Steve will likely only be gone for a few minutes.

"Fuck, you feel so good, baby... shit..."

His voice is strained as you begin rocking your hips in his lap, eyes squeezed shut as the tip of his cock drags across your g-spot.

Rather than let you have your fun, he flips you onto your back in the back seat of the car and hammers his hips down to meet yours, his lips trailing over your throat as you moan softly at the new angle.

He's hitting your g-spot with every thrust, and kissing your cervix with every other roll of his hips.

The pleasure and pain mix and make your head foggy, and it doesn't take long for your toes to curl around Bucky's hips and your climax to creep up on you.

Metal fingers toy with your clit with expert precision, and within only a few moments, your walls are clamping down around him and successfully milking him of his cum.

He lets out a few shuddering breaths as his own orgasm washes over him, balls tight as he pumps you full of ropes and ropes of thick white cum.

His head rests on your chest for a moment, breathing you in as he basks in his high, and then he's carefully pulling out of you and yanking his pants back on.

You, on the other hand, are stuck on your back as aftershocks wrack your frame.

Chuckling softly at his handy work, Bucky helps you back into your pants then pulls you up into his arms.

You collapse against his chest when he leans back against the door, cuddled in his arms as much as you can in the cramped backseat of the car.

He holds you gently, his own eyes closing as he relaxes into his post orgasmic bliss with you.

Your heart is racing even minutes later when Sam and Steve return to the car, each climbing in quietly when they see the two of you curled up together.

Steve sets a grocery bag full of snacks and drinks down on the floor in the backseat, then turns the music on quietly and starts driving, oblivious to what's just gone on.

As he drives you settle against Bucky, falling asleep gently while his load drips out of your swollen cunt. A mess he plans on thoroughly cleaning up as soon as you reach your destination.

#Bucky X reader #Bucky X reader smut #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky X reader fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky smut #sam wilson #Steve rogers #bucky barnes #marvel smut #marvel fanfic #Bucky/reader fluff #Bucky X you #bucky/reader #bucky/you smut #bucky/reader smut

[imagineteamfreewill]

Honey Slow - Masterlist

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: Sam and the reader are in a (somewhat) long-distance relationship, and are working towards someday moving in together. This series is a collection of one shots and drabbles of their time together.

Warnings: Some angst, crying, mostly fluff

This series is Patreon-exclusive.

Honey Slow

Give Me the Weight (When It Gets Too Heavy)

Y/N’s House - Visuals

#masterlist #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam x y/n #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester angst #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester fic #sam fanfiction #sam fanfic #sam fic #Sam Winchester #sam #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #austin texas #texas #reader x sam #reader x sam winchester #imagineteamfreewill #spn #supernatural #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #jellyfish fic #y/n x sam #y/n x sam winchester

[trexrambling]

Hi there!

Could you please do the prompt:

"Aren't you tired?" "This isn't about me."

For Sam?

Thank you!

You're exhausted. So exhausted it’s even seeped deep into your muscles, the way they feel like lead when you lift your arm to pick up your coffee cup again, swallow another mouthful of the bitter liquid.

You're tired, but you can't sleep. Every time you close your eyes, you see fire, you hear screaming. So you've decided to keep your eyes open.

The mug is empty now, so you drag your feet to the counter, pick up the freshly brewed pot, and pour until it's full.

"Y/N? What are you still doing up?"

He startles you, but the fatigue has long overtaken your brain, making you jerk your arm a little too much after the fact. Scalding liquid sloshes over the rim, lands on your hand. It burns like hell, but you just stare as the brown streams run between your fingers, puddling on the countertop.

“Hey, Sam,” you mumble, setting the coffee down to go rinse yourself clean in the sink. You use your shirt as a towel as you turn to face him, push your tangled hair behind your ears with still damp hands. 

His eyes are narrowed as they survey you, a frown deepening his face. “You look awful.”

You find the energy to blush, look down at your stained shirt and rolled up sweats. “Yeah, well...you look...tall.” You check the clock on the stove, and your nose wrinkles. “Hey, what are you doing up?” 

He runs a hand through his long hair, avoids your gaze.

“Sam?” you push.

He leans against the doorframe, his head almost brushing the top of it. “I never heard you get in the shower, or your bedroom door close, and it’s almost three, so...” 

Your forehead wrinkles. “You were waiting up for me? Why? Aren’t you tired?”

He sighs, shakes his head as he shoves his hands into his pockets, and finally finds your eyes with his. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you, not sleeping. For, like, the past five nights. I’m worried about you, Y/N. We all are.”

You suddenly feel very small, like you could slip between the cracks in the floor if you just let go of yourself a little bit more. You pick up your coffee to give your hands something to do and look away from the intensity of Sam’s stare, trace the crack on the side of the mug with your thumb.

“I can’t...I can’t sleep. It’s so much worse when I do.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You peek up at him, suddenly shy. Which is ridiculous, because this is Sam. The same Sam you climbed trees with as kids, the same Sam who held your hair back when you puked your guts out after your first time drinking, the same Sam who’s seen you covered in dirt and blood and guts. But... the way he’s looking at you right now, the softness in his eyes...

“Y/N?”

You clear your throat, put your coffee back down. “Yeah...yeah, I do.”

“Come on, then.” 

He holds out his hand, and you take it with shaky fingers, let him lead you out of the kitchen, to a soft couch with blankets. Let him wrap one around your shoulders and then settle close beside you. Let him listen as you talk, even though it doesn’t come out right and you feel like you’re traipsing through mud as your thoughts jumble into words. 

Let him be there for you, like he’s always been, even when you don’t want to be there for yourself. 

--------------------

#sam x reader #sam fanfic #spn fanfic #sam winchester #sam fic #sam drabble #requests

[rayaswrittings]

I just want to feel

Pairing: Colby Brock x Fem!best friend!reader

Summary: your best friends, Sam and Colby, ask you to be in one of their Q&A videos, but there’s alcohol involved… a lot of it.

Warning(s): SMUT! Mature Language, mature themes, kissing, alcohol, unprotected p in v, Friends to lovers trope :)), choking etc.

This is a long writing so I’m sorry for mistakes!

“Are you sure I should be in the video? I mean, your fans barely know about me” You ask for a final time as Sam leads you to the living room, his recording camera already set up in front of the couch where Colby had been sitting. The two of them were wearing all black so you did too, a black off the shoulder sweater that was old. It was one of the main things you’d leave at Sam and Colby’s in case you ever crashed for the night.

While most people would kill to be in their videos, you never really saw the point. You were somewhat camera shy and a complete nobody. Why would anyone care to see you on the screen? Not to mention all the random internet ships that come with it all. You grew up with Sam, which means you ultimately grew up with Colby as soon as they met. You were only a teenager and now that your adults, you stay at theirs from time to time when your out with friends and get wasted at a party.

Colby would always come and get you from them.

“Our fans will love you. Just be honest and chill, okay?” Sam nods toward Colby and you walk past him to sit next to the dark haired boy, his strong cologne filling your nose.

“Don’t be nervous, at least we have alcohol” Colby’s comment made a small laugh escape from your lips, and you shook your head at his playful smirk. He was right. Alcohol always calmed you down and made your anxiety a little bit less of what it usually was.

You watch the blonde lean forward to turn on the camera and Colby does the same, although you sit back and watch them do their intro. You’d only been in a few other videos of there’s as a small guest but they always made it known to their fans who you were. After all, you all basically started off nobody’s together.

You remember the last morning you had left for school with Sam in freshman year. It was the last day you’d left alone with him for the rest of high school. Your parents were close to each other so you and Sam had practically known each other for most of your lives, but that day, when he met Colby, it wasn’t just the two of you anymore.

The three of you would take the bus together every morning and walk home every afternoon, spending almost every second in between still with one another. It was perfect. Your group was so refreshing, it felt so right.

Your first argument was when you were in junior year, at a party you knew you shouldn’t of been at.

At the time, you’d been talking to this senior, James. He was the captain of your schools swim team and fairly muscular for his 17 years of age. That night at the party was the first time you’d really done anything, he kept handing you shots and like an idiot, you took them. Looking back on it now, you know it could’ve been avoided, but you also trusted the boy you liked. You truly wanted to just fit in with his friends.

That was until he tried to to undo your crochet top in the middle of the dance floor, whispering dirty nothings into your ear that made you feel disgusting.

When you told him off, he got angry with you, grabbing your arm and trying to pull you away so he could get you alone. People were starting to stare and you were starting to get embarrassed, like you were some random slut he’d been taking upstairs.

But then he was ripped away from you, and in only a matter of seconds, Sam’s hand was laid on the small of your back, checking you for bruises the boy might’ve given you. He was trying to talk to you, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the chaos on the floor.

“Colby, get off of him!” You scream, noticing the blood coming from James’s face. Colby was on top of him, punching him the hardest you’d ever seen anyone punch, not sparing him anything. Sam held you back when you tried to get close, they saw what he did to you and there was no way in hell they’d let it slide.

The sound of police sirens fill the street and everyone is quickly running out of the house, and finally Colby stands up. He wipes his now busted lip before looking back at his two friends, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bloody mess laid on the floor.

You hated blood.

“Y/N-“ you push yourself off Sam and past Colby, looking out the window to watch the police cars pull in front of the house. It looked like a murder scene, and you were so in shock you couldn’t even think straight. “Y/N, we have to go” Colby tries to grab your arm but you quickly pull it away, and now he’s able to see the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Get out of here!” You can hear the officers radio the closer they get, and all you could think about was getting Sam and Colby out of there. “Go! Please just go!” Your pleading words make it almost impossible to not listen, and with only a few more seconds, your friends were gone.

That was the day you realized the severity of your friendship— or at least you and Colby’s friendship. The fact that all of you would do anything for each other, whether that was beating up an abuser, or putting your life on the line for the other person.

Ever since then, you and Colby had this undeniable tension between the two of you. It was weird, like something you couldn’t figure out. It was only made purely visible that night.

You’d never even kissed Colby, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about it sometimes. Your usually able to hide it, your desire for the boy, except when your at parties.

Whenever you drink, it’s like everything has to come out the way you think it. Nothing like liquid courage, huh? That’s the exact reason you didn’t want to do the video.

You never stopped thinking about that night.

“Y/N?” You blinked at the touch against your arm, and Colby was looking at you with a slight confusion on his face. “You okay?” You notice the camera’s recording light and nod, sitting up with a smile. “I think it’s time to get drunk, huh?” He nudged you and you nod with a laugh “first question!”

One of your other friends was there reading the questions for you, and even though you thought you’d start off light, she did not give you a break.

“What’s the worst doing the dirty experience you’ve had?” Sam and Colby stare at each other for a second until one of them laughs, shaking their head with the dumbest response. Sam, of course makes a joke out of it but Colby has no shame in what he says, as always.

“One time I had a girl use a lot of teeth, and uh… we never talked again. It was very awkward” Sam hisses at the statement, which makes you laugh too. “What about you, Y/N?” Colby turns to you and your face almost turns red from the sudden eyes on you. Everyone in the room and the camera was waiting on you now.

“Uh… I guess the last time I was talking to a guy. I had to fake the whole thing and he finished quick so it just felt so awkward and it was silent the rest of the night” Colby and Sam raise their eyebrows at you but are laughing at the same time. They knew who you were talking about.

“Colby, why do you post with girls on social media and never tell the fans what’s going on?” The question takes all of you by surprise and Colby’s eyes go wide. That was exactly what happened with you and why you didn’t want to be on the channel that much anymore.

“Umm…” He laughs nervously, looking over at you for a split second. “Because sometimes, I don’t know what’s going on, alright? I’m just posting the post and maybe it turns into something or maybe it doesn’t?”

“It’s not like their your girlfriend” Sam interjects and Colby nods agreeably.

“Let’s just say if I had a girlfriend, you guys would know” After you guys are done with that question, your kind of sitting back and watching the two answer at that point. Except they had to drink once so you did too, now you were all one shot in.

“Colby, why do you have a pair of handcuffs in your room?” Everyone’s face is in shock in the room as they look at Colby, waiting for his answer. He laughs nervously again, looking over at same with wide eyes before sitting up.

“I uh… you know I-“

“Might have to drink on that one, huh?” You tease and he rolls his eyes at your words with a laugh, closing the alcohol bottle he was about to open.

“No, no. I um… I use them for personal fun. Yeah, that’s-“

“What the fuck does that mean” You and Sam burst out laughing but your friend shakes her head. “Judge says no. Drink!” Sam hands him the bottle and Colby’s face is now turning a slight red. A tint only you could see because of how close you were.

“I’ve used them for sexual fun” He says just as he’s about to pour the shot, but your friend rolls her eyes and nods that he doesn’t have to drink.

“That was luck” Colby nudges your arm and shrugs, that annoying smirk of his only making you laugh.

“Name two dirty kinks you have” The girl reads and all three of you are wide eyeing the camera. Sam curses under his breath and Colby is still in shock. It was still so early in the game, already?

“Wait, I’m not answering that. I already said one, right?” Sam agrees to Colby but the judge shakes her head. “Just one more then? I already day said one!”

“You go first, Y/N” Sam cuts off his clearly pressured friend and they both turn to you, but your face is an even deeper red then Colby’s now.

“Um… I don’t—I mean it’s been a long time so I don’t really know…”

“Oh come on, Everyone has them” Colby teases and you glare at him, letting out a sigh as you sat back on the couch.

Apart of you was afraid to tell them, because you’d never really been that open with them about sexual preferences. Sam wasn’t the one you were worried about, him and Katrina were perfectly locked in with each other and you knew whatever you said didn’t matter.

But with Colby, there was always this unspoken tension between the two of you. One you tried to ignore but always failed terribly when you’d see him make out with another girl. You were afraid he’d see right through you if you answered the question, and if there was one thing you couldn’t ignore,

It was the way he’d look at you.

“I think… I think choking is attractive, but like not too aggressively, you know?”

“So your submissive?” Colby’s words go through your ear and straight down. He was clearly trying to get to you with that question, and there it was again.

The tension between the two of you.

“Sometimes” You try to cover it up but you can feel his eyes piercing right through you, his smirk showing the small of his pearly white teeth that always made you blush. “What about you then, hmm? Mr. Talk shit” You push his face and the two of them laugh, but Colby is no longer embarrassed to say it.

“I like to be Dominant” He says to the camera and Sam blows air from his mouth, shake his head in disbelief. Colby isn’t looking at you on purpose. Oh god, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You lean back on the couch, scratching your nose to try and hide your burning hot cheeks from everyone’s eyes. It was like he was doing it on purpose. He was so clearly teasing you.

And you wished it wasn’t working, but it’s been so long that it’s impossible for your stomach not to twist into multiple knots.

Or at least that’s the excuse you gave yourself.

After many more questions and many more drinks, the alcohol started to take a toll on all three of you already. You had only had three shots and even the camera was hard to focus on. Sam and Colby’s eyes had been getting red but yours were harder to see because of your eyelashes.

“Who do you think is the most attractive clubhouse member besides Kat” Colby and your own eyes go wide and you both stare at Sam. Obviously he couldn’t answer that, but neither could you, right?

“None! Sorry, gotta drink to that. Can’t answer cause it ain’t true” Sam sasses the camera while opening the bottle. Colby laughs, both of you applauding your friend.

“Yeah, I’m gonna drink to that one as well” Colby reaches down to grab the other bottle from the floor, pouring it into his shot glass. “I can’t answer that, but I do have someone in mind” he cheers to the camera and his words alone make your stomach twist once again. It definitely wasn’t you, but saying something like that… after the other questions..

“What about you, Y/N?” The girl asks as the boys down their own shots. She raises an eyebrow, “might as well give us something here, right?” As much as you wanted to decline and run away embarrassed, you could feel the liquid courage increasing.

The way everyone looked at you, they all knew who it was. You leaned back with a huff, you could feel Colby’s eyes on you the entire time you were stalling, but when you looked at him, his eyes pierced through you.

“I think… I think I’ll drink too” Sam and Colby boo at you when you pour the shot. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t either so that must mean he doesn’t… feel the same, Right?

“I can’t even see the camera anymore, dude” Sam laughs at Colby’s words. Sam has more shots then the two of you so you’d imagine he’d be the one saying it, but of course it was Colby.

Maybe that’s why he was looking at you like that..

Towards the end of the video, all three of you were pretty drunk. Sam was the least, you were in the middle, and Colby… Jesus. Colby was so drunk.

“Fuck, man” Colby lays his head on the end table for just a second, you could tell his head was spinning. You rub his back, his body temperature is very warm. You look over to Sam and nod toward the camera, and Sam immediately understands.

“Maybe we should take a small break?”

“Where are you going?” You ask Sam, watching him put on his jacket and grab his keys. You finished the video about 30 minutes ago and Colby was on the couch watching tv, while you had just changed into night clothes which really were only comfy shorts and a crop top like usual.

“I have to go stay at Kat’s tonight. We’re heading to her parents tomorrow morning” You hum, pouring a glass of water for yourself and one for Colby. You had forgotten Sam was going away for a few days. “Try not to have too much fun while I’m gone” You stop and look at him with slightly furrowed brows, but he’s just raising his eyebrows with a shrug, leaving you with the confusion of his statement.

He doesn’t… he can’t know, right? You weren’t that obvious.

“Water?” Your voice is enough to catch Colby’s attention from the tv. He was watching some random scary movie it looked like but you’d never seen it so you weren’t completely sure. You hand him the water and take a seat next to him, leaving a gap between the two of you. You had thought the tension would be gone by now but it clearly wasn’t, you could only hope it was just your overthinking.

“What’s up with you? You were being weird the whole video” His question makes you somewhat relieved. Maybe he didn’t suspect anything, maybe it really was all just in your own head—but how were you meant to explain you couldn’t focus because of how badly you wanted him. Even now, he was leaned back on the couch, his hair messy from running his hands through it and his tattoos on full display for you to look at. Jesus, it felt like torture.

Why did you have to get drunk?

“I just didn’t feel good” You shrug, looking over at the tv and tilting the glass of water toward your lips. You can feel his eyes on you, waiting for you to give him a real answer but he doesn’t push you. He only takes a sip of his water, turning back to the movie.

“Are you going home tonight?” You glance at the clock, it’s already 11. Should you? You have a room here, you didn’t really need to.

But did he want you to?

“I was planning on staying but if you don’t want me to-“

“I want you to stay” Your stomach twists, with excitement and somewhat nervousness at the same time. He was being direct but he wasn’t even looking at you. You wanted to stay and watch the movie with him, but the more you looked at him, the more the drunken side of you just wanted to kiss him.

You wanted him.

“Come here” You hesitate for a few seconds before placing your drink back on the glass table in front of you, moving to sit closer to the boy. His arm was laid on the back of the couch and he opens the blanket he’d been using to you. He wanted you close.

Your practically curled next to him by the middle of the movie, head laid in the crook of his neck and your legs sitting on top of his own. Not much had been said all movie, but Colby was getting more and more touchy as it went on.

His fingers traced shapes on your bare legs under the blanket, the cold metal of his rings sometimes brushing against your skin. He made it seem so normal, like it was an every day thing the two of you did together.

But this only made you so much hornier.

His scent radiates from his neck, and it was almost as if you wanted to kiss his neck right then and there. It was so alluring—He was so alluring to you.

And he knew it.

“Do you want to tell me why you were really acting weird today?” He asks again, looking down at the tent his hand made under the blanket while he caressed your leg.

You bite your bottom lip, looking at the blanket as well. You could feel the tingling feeling between your legs as his hand touched you farther, as if he had been testing the waters before actually saying anything.

“Colby…” You can’t help but pull your legs even closer together, and that alone is all he needed to tell him how you felt. “Not everything needs an explanation. It’s just… complicated”

“Complicated, huh?” He hums sarcastically, in a knowing form. You bite your lip as you watch him rub his temple, frustration radiating off of him. “You know, For the longest time, I tried to let this whole thing go out of respect for you, Y/N” He mumbled, his voice low and husky with passion. God, he sounded so hot. Even if he was upset, you just couldn’t help yourself. “I always thought it would be you and Sam” He lets out a huffed chuckle, still keeping his eyes on his lap. “But I want it to be me”

What?

No. He isn’t… he doesn’t mean what you think, right? Colby Brock isn’t confessing his feelings for you, right?

“Colby, what’s wrong with you?” His body tenses when you ask that stupid question. What’s wrong with him? Like you didn’t know.

“What’s wrong with me? What about you?” He finally turns his head to look at you, his drunken, sad and very horny eyes staring lasers into yours. “You can’t seriously sit here and believe yourself when you ask me that question” You couldn’t think. You didn’t even move for awhile because of your lack of words or thoughts for that matter. You wanted to give in, but you were also so terrified of if it wasn’t real.

“Colby, I’m not the person you want. Trust me, you will figure that out soon enough” He scoffs as you get off the couch, trying to at least relieve some of the tension between the two of you. Colby was so tired of waiting, but you were just too scared.

“How do you know what I want? You’ve barely spoke to me the past few weeks!” The boy calls after you when your walking away from the couch, his voice only makes you stop. “You’ve been weird for weeks, Y/N. Don’t ask me what’s wrong with me when you can’t even tell me how you feel”

“Colby, I don’t know how I feel!” You turn around with frustration, staring at the back of his head. He was still sat on the couch, and part of you hoped he stayed there—but another part wanted him to go after you. “I haven’t just been distant because of you-“

“That’s such bullshit and you know it” He stands, turning to look at you. You were far too drunk for this. You could feel the unnecessary tears already filling your eyes, you didn’t want to argue with him. “Look me in my eyes and tell me that—then I’ll let it go”

“Can we please just talk about this tomorrow-“

“You know what I think? I think your just scared of feeling weak. Your scared of letting someone in, Y/N. And the past few weeks we’ve been getting closer than before, that’s why your distant now. That’s your biggest weakness” Colby scoffs, grabbing his jacket off the couch and slipping it on with ease. You furrow your eyebrows as he walks toward you, and past you.

You grab his arm, “Colby, your drunk. Don’t go out, Please” he’s avoiding your eyes but you can see the chisel on his jaw, clenching with what you thought had been anger. “I don’t know how to do this, Colby. I… I can’t even bring myself to say the words I want to say to you” He tears his arm away from you, snatching his keys from the countertop. No. You couldn’t let it end like that—not when you have so much to say. “Okay, fine!”

“You want the truth, Colby? For years all I felt for you for you, all in silence because I didn���t want to ruin our friendship with Sam and Each other. I watched you with other girls since we were juniors! I couldn’t stand you, but yet I also couldn’t stand to be without you. Everywhere I go, I always want you with me—and when i’d see you with other girls, it would make me feel stupid, like my feelings meant nothing to you even if you didn’t know”

“How was I supposed to tell you that? How was I supposed to tell you that even after everything that’s happened, I still can’t stop loving you!” Your confession slips like words of anger said in an heated argument. Colby still wasn’t looking at you, which only made your heart ache even worse. You just poured your heart out to him—couldn’t he at least look at you?

“When you got put in the hospital during senior year, I was there every fucking second with you! I cried, Colby! I was a mess for days, and Sam was the one who had to juggle the two of us!” You remembered that day like it was yesterday. The day you’d gotten into a huge argument with Sam about your feelings for Colby. Sam always knew of both your feelings, but he didn’t say anything to the other. If you were going to admit, it had to be to each other. “I’m usually so good at hiding how I feel, but I’m getting so tired of it. The Same repeating cycle I just-“

“Why didn’t you just tell me, Y/N. Why didn’t you-“

“Are you serious? After all those talks we had about you not caring for a relationship and not wanting a future with someone? You were practically telling me no! I wanted to tell you but then you started going to parties more and kissing girls and-“

“Y/N”

“It hurt me, Colby. That’s why I didn’t tell you. It would physically hurt my chest to see you kiss another girl after flirting with me for DAYS. You played with my head and I know I played with yours too but-“

“Y/N, I’m-“

“No matter how hard I try or how many guys I find, there’s nothing for me. I can’t… I can’t move past you and it fucking sucks” You hadn’t even realized he moved until you were done talking. He was close now—close enough to hear his breathing if you’d been quiet enough. Your heart shatters with every passing moment that’s goes silent. You knew you couldn’t be the same after this, so you begged in your mind for him to say something.

Only he didn’t say anything, and for a moment you actually thought he’d leave you there alone.

But you two were meant to love each other, Remember?

A silent moan escapes your mouth as he crashes his lips into your own, the sound muffled by his. The kiss is filled with so much passion it could make one’s heart explode if you weren’t too careful, it felt like the two of you had been waiting years to do this.

Which you were.



After the first kiss, the two of you didn’t waste any time. Colby pulled you up, your legs wrapping around him as you continued to make out with the dark haired boy. His large hands cupped your ass, and soon enough you felt your back hit the cold wall. One of your hands were laid on the side of his neck while the other held the back of his hair, tugging on it slightly.

It had only been a few seconds ago you were sitting watching a movie—how in the hell did you both get here so quick?

He carried you to the couch, sitting down so you could straddle his lap instead of holding yourself up against his waist.

His hands release your ass and move up your back, slipping under your shirt to unclip your bra.

Colby smirks against your lips and removes his hand from your shirt, lifting your chin to pull away from the kiss. “Dirty girl” You hum as his lips attach to your neck, his comment making you all the more wet then you already were. You didn’t put a bra on—and Colby seemed to have really liked that you didn’t. “You make such pretty sounds—wish I could’ve heard them sooner”

You can feel the hardness under you, and the more you grind on him, the more you can feel his grip on you tighten. It didn’t hurt—it just turned you on even more.

“Colby, Please” You plead breathlessly. You wanted him to do more then just kiss your neck. You wanted him to take you to his room, to do everything he’d do to someone else. “You don’t have to be gentle with me” you tug his hair gently, meeting his lust filled eyes. You were desperate for him and you didn’t care, you’d waited since junior year to have your way with him—to have him want you.

“I’ll leave marks all over you, Y/N” he says in a slightly warning tone as if he didn’t want to completely destroy you in that moment, but you shake your head, grabbing his hand that slipped to the waistband of your sleeper shorts.

“I just want to feel something” You say in a tone he’d never heard you in before, one that made him want you even worse then before. You slip your hand off his own and place it on his chiseled chest, feeling the crease of his abs all the way down until you reached his belt. You wanted him, you just wanted him to know that. “I want to feel you, Colby. I want you”

“You want me to treat you like everyone else?” You hesitate but nod after a few seconds, slipping off his lap to stand to your feet. He stands in front of you, his height making a clear difference above you. His expression hadn’t changed yet, he was so hard to read. “I won’t do that, Y/N” Before you could say anything, he was already picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist again, crashing his lips back into yours as he made his way to his room.

This man… you didn’t know how to describe the feeling you had when he kissed you, but it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. He was so different from everyone else you’d been with, and you didn’t know why.

You did. Deep down you knew why he made you feel the way he did. Colby was the only guy you truly wanted. Even when you had a boyfriend, you still wanted him instead.

He drops you onto his bed, removing his black wife beater and throwing it to the side, revealing his tattooed body you’ve grown to love looking at. He looked so good in this lighting, and the way his hair fell messy over his forehead—you couldn’t stop your thoughts from running wild.

“I want you, Y/N. I need to know I have all of you—that your only for me” You pick your head up to look at him briefly, fingers playing with the string of his pants. “I won’t treat you like some random slut when your not”

The feeling of his fingertips brushing against your skin made you shiver, it made you feel as if this might’ve not been real, maybe a dream after all. But after seeing his face and feeling his hand stop just above your waistline, everything felt at ease.

“I’ve always been yours, Colby Brock” That was all he needed to hear, all he needed to give into you.

And soon enough, here you were again, pinned against the bed while Colby’s hands grip your waist, peppering sweet kisses against your neck. You almost couldn't hold it in.

Your hand slowly found its way to the back of his neck, running your fingers through his hair as his wandering hands went right under your shorts. You knew what you were doing with the outfit, and it only made him laugh just thinking about it.

“Please, Colby. I don’t want you to hold back… I want you to give me all of you” you were smirking to yourself, biting your nail like this was somewhat funny to you. Colby didn’t see the appeal, if he was going to fuck you, he was going to ruin you for anyone else.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N” He tells you with a sharp tone, moving to place his hands against the beds cloth, closing you between him. You smirk, looking him up and down once before looking back to his face.

“I’m tired of waiting” The two of you laid there, staring at the other for what felt like forever until He finally gave in, cursing himself under his breath before he grabbed your neck to pull you into a rough kiss. Your body is flush against his as he completely explores your body with his hands. You could feel his growing erection, you could feel his hunger for your body like he felt yours.

“Colby” You mumble in a breathless moan. His lips remove from yours and move to your jaw, hungrily peppering wet kisses down it, all the way to your neck.

“You are so fucking hot, Jesus” He groans against your ear, placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin. Your moans are what encourage him the most. Hearing your sweet whimpers in his ear as he sucked on your neck felt like a dream. Believe god, he’d had that dream many, many times before.

“I’ve waited so long for this” Your breathless under him, gripping his hair between your small fingers. You could feel his cock pressing against you, begging for your tongue. It was big—he was so fucking big. It should’ve scared you but you were more intrigued, grinding your hips against his to gain some friction with the little time you had before he stopped your bratty movements.

“I know you have” He teases and you only roll your eyes, grabbing his hand that held you steady against him. You could feel his lips brushing your skin, he wanted to mark you, and you wanted him to. You wanted Colby Brock to let everyone know you were his.

“Nothings stopping me from walking out that door” You hum, holding his head and slightly pushing it down so his lips reattached to your neck. “I’ll find someone else—someone who hasn’t played with me for years” A grunt escapes his mouth as if he had been fighting with the feeling, shaking his head between your neck before meeting your eyes again; your bratty, untamed eyes.

“You’ve waited so long I thought? So long your body even reacts when I look at you” He’s so obviously joking and you love every second of it. Every word of degradation is like music to your ears, like a forbidden kink you didn’t know you had. “This is what you wanted, huh? All those looks you’d give me after I’d make out with randoms—you were so jealous, Sweetheart” Your ears are perking at his every word but your eyes were filled with annoyance. Colby knew now so why would you hide it? Hide your jealousy? “All those times, you could’ve just told me you wanted me and I would’ve given it all to you. Nobody else”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling you closer to his body then before with a smirk, shrugging your shoulders. “That doesn’t matter. I have you now” His eyes. Oh god, his eyes were so hungry. At first you didn’t know what to think but it only took you a few seconds to realize once his large arms were wrapped around your thighs, pulling your body close to him.

His chin sat against your stomach, staring up at you like he had been waiting for you to say something. But you didn’t know what he was planning until his thumb was ghosting around your clothed clit, that same smirk pulling at his lips as he watched you.

He slips your shorts off with ease, along with your black lace underwear, tossing them both to the side.

“Fuck” You breath heavily, leaning your head back against the sheets, not even realizing the boy under you was now fully under you. “S-shit!” Your hand fell clasp over your mouth to silence your moan, eyes falling back on him under you. Except now, his face was pressed into your dripping wet cunt, and his fingers teased what his mouth didn’t. “Fucking hell, Colby” You mumble under your unsteady breath, trying your hardest not to moan because he had just started and you didn’t want to seem weak.

But holy shit, this boy knew how to use his tongue.

Your hand fell atop his head in hopes to gain some sort of stability but that quickly failed, given how badly he was attacking your clit. His mouth was warm against you and you already knew you’d come soon. It was like he knew your body inside and out.

“I know your not holding back on me, are you?” His words vibrate against your cunt making you jolt, thankful his arms held you down so you wouldn’t squirm. Colby was in pure bliss under you, relishing in your sweet taste that so effortlessly painted his tongue. You were wet, your cunt was begging for more even if you were a crying mess above him, like it finally found what it had been longing for.

“I can take it” He chuckles at your attempt at retaliation but still manages to one up you, slipping two of his large, slender fingers inside you. “C-Colby, let me-“

“No” He only uttered one word but it was enough to make you listen like a trained dog, allowing your legs to tremble against his face. You could’ve taken it had you been prepared, but it had been far too long before any guy had done this to you.

“You taste so fucking good, Y/N” His fingers curl against your spongy walls, pushing his tongue against your clit quickly as your moan’s increased. It was so clear you were already on edge, about to let go without it being over five minutes. You find your pride slipping from you in a matter of seconds, begging the man to let you come as your fingers tug his hair. You couldn’t hold on, your legs were far too weak.

“Please, please—Colby, please” His ears are perking as you moan his name, begging for him, moaning for him. Normally, he’d take his time with you but now? He needed to release all that tension between the two of you from years ago, he knew he couldn’t last much longer. He needed to be inside of you, and for that exact reason is why he only sped up under you. “G-gonna come..!”

Your mind tried to come up with some sort of reason as to how you got yourself here, How you got your best friend between your legs, and definitely how you were about to fully submit yourself to this boy while your true feelings for each other were unknown. He was thinking the same thing; how did he get so lucky to have you above him?

“Let go for me, Pretty girl” In only seconds, you’re coming undone above him, legs almost falling weak as they shook from your release, sending shivers throughout your entire body. Colby’s still torturing your body, pumping his fingers into you at a faster pace. It was clear, he was trying to kill you.

“Colby!” You cry, gripping his hair with a begging tone. You couldn’t take it much longer. You had to push him away. Finally, after what felt like forever, he removed his tongue from you, letting his fingers slip from inside you. His strong arms are the only thing that held your legs still, and you could see your release painted on his chin once he looked up at you. “Holy shit” You curse under your breath, chest heaving as he stood to his feet. You look at the large man above you, noticing once again how he towers over you.

He bites his lip, admiring your perfect body that had been on almost full display for him. He leans down when you notice how hard he is, lifting your chin with the hand he hadn’t used on you.

You watch through your eyelashes as he sucks his finger clean from your release, biting his lip with a silent chuckle at how lovingly you looked at him. You grab his hand, pulling it closer to you until his other finger was pressed against your lips—to which you copied his action from before, staring into his dark eyes as you did.

“Good girl” He knew you liked that. It was so obvious—the way your legs clench together at his praise. He pulls his hand away and moves it to your neck, pressing a soft but sloppy kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself from him, and God… it was so fucking hot.

Your hand feels his body effortlessly until you reach his aching print, a small smile pulling at your lips against him.

“Let me” You mumble breathlessly, placing your hand over his cock. You could feel how desperate he had been for you, how badly he wanted you in that moment. His hand wraps around your throat firmly, pulling your lips to crash back into his own. He was so rough and impatient—you loved it.

“I need you. Right here, Right now” His voice is deep and makes your skin shiver, the way his hands touch you so delicately but with control. His room was slightly dark, only lit by the strip of LED’s above his bed frame.

“I want to be yours, Colby. Make me yours, please” Your words make his and your own stomach twist into knots, he almost felt bad. He waited so long to make the move, afraid he misread the signs, but he’d never admit that. You allow your hands to travel down his bare abs, feeling every chisel between the pads of your fingertips. When you reach his belt, you’re quick to help him tug his pants off, watching him with the most admiration.

“After we do this, everything will change” He looks at you once more, both of your hands laid on the waistband of his underwear. You lay your free hand on the side of his neck and use the other to touch him lower—right where he wanted you the entire time.

His breath shutters at your bare touch, something he’s wanted for so long was finally right in front of him. You were all he wanted and he prayed you ensue him just as much.

“I love you, Colby. There’s no change in that” You tell him truthfully, watching his eyes soften just before you pulled his face down to kiss his lips. Except this kiss had much more

meaning—the kiss after you’d admit your feelings for one another.

He leans you down, closing you between his large body and his bed, your hand is still pressed into his print, but he’s already slipping his underwear off by the time you can notice.

Fuck. He was going to ruin you.

Your hands cup his face when his tip presses against your entrance, slick coating it by the second. You wanted him for so long, you didn’t care if it hurt at first.

You just wanted him.

From the moment he pushed inside of you, the only feeling you could endure was love. He was slow, gentle to help you get used to his size. The boy peppers kisses to your neck as he pushed further, comforting your slightly pained moans that slip from your lips without warning.

“Mmm” You let out a soft moan once his tip is past your entrance, the hard part was now over. You look at him with your lips parted, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. He pushes your hair out of your face before kissing you, and you weren’t prepared for when he pushed into you fully with one snap of his hips.

Your toes curled and your nails dug into his skin desperately, the feeling was almost indescribable. You just felt… full.

“Oh my god” You moan against his lips, throwing your head back as he strokes you slowly, massaging your thigh. You looked so perfect like this, so pretty in this light. Your body was almost bare for him, and your body was welcoming him with open arms—he couldn’t get enough of you. “Colbs…Colby” one of your hands release his shoulder to grip the sheet underneath you, teeth catching your bottom lip between them.

“Starting to feel good?” He hums while you nod, moving his head down to your neck, placing sloppy kisses against it. His hips find a steady pace at first and gradually work their way up, starting deep, then fast to your skin. “God, you feel so good” one of his hands travels up your body until it reaches the shirt covering your upper half, just wanting to rip in off of you.

“Take it off, baby” Your breathless words are too late when he’s already slipping it off your now fully bare body, completely discarding it to the floor next to him. Jesus, you were so perfect.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N” He presses a kiss to your lips before moving down your body, trailing his wet tongue down until he reached your nipple. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, the curves of your body… you were practically made for him. A shuddered moan escapes your lips when he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, kneading the other with his free hand.

“Mmm!” Between the stokes of his hips and the sensations he brought to your skin, you couldn’t hold much in. You were sure you were being too loud but the two of you didn’t care. It was just you and him, nobody else.

His strong arms capture your thighs, pulling one of your legs to rest against his shoulder. “Colby! I can’t… oh my gosh” Your little voice is projecting off the walls of the empty room but you don’t care, only worried about the boy above you. Your head was still slightly spinning from the drinks you endured earlier that night and it only mixed with your horny mess of a body, begging Colby for more. “It’s so good… fuck! You’re so fucking good!”

“Look at you. Such a fucking mess under me. You needed me just as much as I needed you” He grabs the back of your head, pulling you up slightly so you were at an angle you couldn’t look away from him. His big eyes were burning holes into your own, hips rutting into you like he had something to prove.

Which he did.

“Gonna come…! Colby, I’m gonna come!” Your a whining mess under him and he loves every second of it, pushing his hips into you faster then before. Your small body was like a toy in his hand and you were at his every command, doing everything he said.

“Come for me. Want you to scream my name so the whole neighborhood knows who’s fucking you this good—so ever man knows your mine” You knew it was a bad idea but who were you to decline that request? You were already screaming as it was. “My dirty girl, Your so fucking hot like this”

“I’m coming! I’m—oh my god I-“ Your voice is cut off by your loud moan, leg shuttering against his shoulder as you felt your release threatening to push over. His tip was kissing your cervix repeatedly, and you knew you couldn’t last much longer. “Colby…!” You cry out, pressing your hand to his chest as if that was going to do anything. Your orgasm finally tipped, and you felt it hit you like a truck.

“That’s it, Baby. Good girl” His thumb rubs circles against your clit as he ruts into your harder, watching your liquid spurt from between the two of you. “My god, Y/N. So fucking good for me”

“Colby… please—Jesus-“

“You can whine all you want, but your body is calling mine for more. You want more” You grip his large arms until your knuckles turn white, scratching along his tanned skin. You curse at him, not wanting to hear his teasing any longer. “Fuck me? I’m only giving you what you want” You look at him with an angry look for a second before completely switching, a smirk pulling at your lips. Jesus, you were nasty, huh?

He pulls out of you all at once making you whine, not able to protest before he’s already flipping you over onto your stomach and pushing your ass in the air. You giggle, stretching your arms in front of you as you arch your back against him, begging him to forgive you. “I was only joking, Pretty boy” You hum, looking back at his face.

He doesn’t say anything and grabs your hips roughly, pulling you back onto his length that so easily slipped inside of you. Your eyes roll back almost instantly as he bottoms you out, pushing his cock as deep as he could reach inside you. “This is what you wanted? Then fucking take it” He growls against your ear, slamming himself into your harder than he had been before. You couldn’t even think straight, you were already so fucked out you didn’t even remember what it felt like to not be fucked.

“fuck! Right there! Please, Colby—fuck me right there!” Your begging voice is music to his ears, your hands gripping the ground under you as he pushed himself against you. “You’re so deep… so fucking good to me, baby” He hums, leaning against your body so you were entirely pressing against him, his tongue running along your skin. Once again, you could feel his sloppy kisses against your shoulder and your neck.

“Nobody can fuck you like I can, Pretty girl. Your mine. You’re all fucking mine, you hear me?” You cry out a yes, the sound of your skin slapping against each others being the only thing that could be heard. “That’s it, just like that, my love” He praises against your ear, holding your hips to press into his.

“Colby, I’m gonna come… oh my god” You whine into the sheet, feeling the pressure building up fast inside you. He’s a grunting mess above you so you knew he was close as well, he was only holding out for you. “Come with me. Please, don’t hold out on me”

The snap of his hips slow down the closer he gets, and now your body is flush against his own, rocking back and forth to his pace with his face buried in your neck.

“I fucking love you, Y/N. My girl, come for me and only me, yeah?” You moan at his words, throwing your head back against his chest as his fingers circle your sensitive clit. you couldn’t hold it anymore, and neither could he. “I’m right behind you”

Drunk sex always felt way too good but usually it was faster and much sweatier, this felt far too different. Even if your hips moved fast against his, it still felt like everything had been in slow motion. The way his hands held your delicate body in his embrace as he thrust his hips up to meet your own, how his lips parted in anticipation to kiss yours, Colby was so hungry for you—his body, was hungry for you.

“Colby… Colby!” His name rolls off your tongue in a beautiful moan. You can feel his slight hesitance but the eyes you give him are enough to tell him exactly what you wanted. You wanted all of him, just as you said.

“Fuck…!” He curses under his breath, your moans filling his ears as you clenched down onto him. He continues to coach you to it, and with one last snap of his hips and circle to your clit, you felt your body release it’s everything onto his. He shushes your loud scream while silencing his own grunts, fingers digging into your hips to pull you close, painting your gummy walls with his white, hot release.

For awhile, All that was heard was your heavy breathing and the sounds of the tv in the other room, and you soon found yourself collapsed next to each other on the bed. Your chests were heaving horribly, and the sweat that drip from your foreheads were now everywhere. You look over at the boy next to you, only to find he had already been looking at you, both of you breathing heavy—lips parted.

It only took a second for one of you to start laughing, and Colby leaned over to kiss you again, this time staying there for the longest he could.

You hum as he pulls away just a tiny bit, still close to your face. Your eyes are shut, relishing in the feeling you had. How do you go on from this? Clearly you two loved each other, but you prayed it wouldn’t be weird…

“Come here” He lays his arm out, pulling your body closer to his so you could lay your head against his chest. The room was hot and smelled of pure sex but neither of you complained. You were just happy.

“Colby…” You mumble after awhile in silence, tracing the tattoo on his chest for the 2nd time. He hums in response, the tips of his fingers brushing through your soft hair. You almost feel bad, as if you’re about to ruin the amazing night you had—but you had to say it. “Where do we go from here..?”

Your voice is low and nervous, so focused on the negative that you couldn’t even see the obvious answer. Colby made it clear what he wanted. He couldn’t go back to normal with you—not after this night.

“I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/N. I’ve always wanted that” He pushes your hair away from your face, placing his finger under your chin to lift it. “Please tell me that’s what you want too”

Your eyes soften at his hesitant tone, grabbing the hand that sat under your chin to intertwine your fingers. Of course you wanted that. It was all you ever wanted.

You nod

“Sam is going to be so happy”

Just a little something different 😉. See y’all whenever :))

#sam golbach #sam and colby #sam and colby smut #sam and colby fanfiction #colby brock #colby brock smut #colby brock fluff #colby brock angst #sam golbach smut #sam golbach fanfic #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fic #colby x reader #Colby x reader smut #colby brock x reader #youtuber #smut #best friends #friend to lovers

[corinthianism]

corinthianism's fic recs

here are my personal favorite fanfics! idk how often i'll update this, but i hope you like them as much as i do :) *indicates smut

last updated: march 26, 2024

MARVEL

loki laufeyson - from the void, with love — by whirlybirbs (my fav fanfic of all time!!! i think about this fic several times in a day bro) - riptide — by starks-hero - the tailor* (series) — by birdofhermes (ao3) - time after time (series) — by goldencherriess (ao3) - a friend from work — by cozy_the_overlord (ao3)

thor odinson - god of fertility* (request) — by charnelhouse - highway don't care (but i do, i do)* (part one, part two, part three) — by spacelabrathor

peter parker (andrew garfield) - agree to disagree — by delicate-dorothea - nerdy peter (request) — by webslingingslasher - good boy x bad girl trope (request) — by webslingingslasher - hold you here, my loveliest friend* — by p3mybeloved - your friendly neighborhood sensitive spider* — by jin0 - glad you're home — by withahappyrefrain - the mechanics of a soul — by irndad - 3 is the magic number* — by withahappyrefrain - crush — by ptersparkers - as it goes — by forever-rogue - here comes the sun (part one, part two, part three) — by withahappyrefrain - stability, reciprocity, and a romance for the ages (series) — by privateanxieties (ao3 - need an account to read)

steven grant (moon knight) - hold me close — by stormkobra-5 - gift of min* — by astroboots - puzzles* — by stormkobra-5 - first time* — by luvpedropascal - domestic adonis* — by peterman-spideyparker - where it starts — by silversweetpea - fallen from heaven, grown on earth* (series) — by davosmymaster (ao3) - call me poe* — by kittyfandom (ao3) - elemental — by batsingotham (ao3) - the boy with the thorn in his side — by eating_flowers (ao3)

marc spector (moon knight) - not him — by loud-mouth-loser - it's worth it, it's divine* — by the-archxr - i'm getting to know someone — by davosmymaster (ao3)

wade wilson (deadpool) - tea and sympathy (series) — by bucketsoffrogs (ao3)

SHERLOCK (BBC)

sherlock holmes - your hidden strength — by okay-j-hannah - sublime dexterity* (part one, part two) — by daydreamtofiction - literally everything by starks-hero

SUPERNATURAL

sam winchester - playing house (part one, part two) — by uncouth-the-fifth - baby i'll stay (heaven can wait) — by uncouth-the-fifth - move over.* — by ggwritesstuff - where's your head at?* — by beau55515 - birthdays: sam winchester style* — by karleekarma (ao3) - the comforts of home — by zepskies - under the hood* — by shawslut

dean winchester - whether you like it or not — by kbeautimous (ao3) - reading you wrong — by zepskies - cherished — by thatonewriter15 (ao3) - soft touch — by wearywinchester - i love her, that's why* — by kaleldobrev - drivin' me crazy* — by lis-likes-fics

castiel - salt n' lick* — by aperfectgrace (ao3) - a bite of apple pie (series) — by ac_deanc (ao3)

THE SANDMAN

the corinthian - bring me a dream* (series, ongoing) — by placeinthemiddleofnowhere - nihil — by lis-likes-fics

dream/morpheus - sweet dreams (are made of this) — by stranger-nightmare

CRIMINAL MINDS

aaron hotchner - from eden — by heliotropehotch - gold star — by honeypiehotchner - love, an abstract concept — by luveline - honeymoon phase* (series) — by hotchsbitch (ao3)

THE BOYS

soldier boy (he's absolutely horrible but so. so. hot.) - break me down* (series) — by zepskies (go read their other stuff too!) - talk to me — by zepskies

homelander (also absolutely horrible. would sleep with him.) - if i can't have you — by watchstarscollide - milky white* — by after-witch

GAME OF THRONES

jaime lannister - i'm not made by design — by ichorai (this legitimately changed my brain chemistry)

STAR WARS

obi-wan kenobi - like turning on the light* — by full-time-make-believer (deactivated acc) (this also changed the trajectory of my life) - where it wasn't* — by 221bshrlocked - your thoughts are loud — by spidersbane - empty me out* — by 221bshrlocked - house of memories* (series) — by meshlasolus - bad idea, right?* (series) — by mischiefling (ao3) - you make me feel like dancing — by saradika (ao3) - it's a wonderful lie — by firstofficerwiggles (ao3) - temptation's kiss — by karasong (ao3) - you make my dreams* — by wickedscribbles (ao3) - like a living mirage — by karasong (ao3) - broken drought* — by rosalindbeatrice (ao3) - never grow up — by doihavetoloseyoutoo (ao3) - never ending story — by kybercrystal (ao3) - volveré* — by kxnobi (ao3)

din djarin (the mandalorian) - the savior* (part one, part two, part three) — by dindjiarin - significant — by softlyspector - touching din — by archieimagines - uncharted territory* — by pedrito-friskito - creed* — by wheresarizona - home is wherever i'm with you* (part one, part two, part three) — by saradika

DRACULA (BBC)

count dracula - the székely* (series) — by theplumsoldier

LOTR/THE HOBBIT

thranduil oropherion - a boon* (series) — by inksplots (ao3) - beauty and the beast (series) — by tamurilofrivendell (ao3)

DOCTOR SLEEP

dan torrance - of monsters and men* — by helaintoloki & obitwo - domestic life (headcanons) — by thornsinmycrown - smut alphabet* — by daincrediblegg

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