#sam winchester fanfic

[samsno1]

Just finished it and i loved it so much! could i request a part 2 to Dream Of Me..?

Dream Come True

Sam Winchester x F!Reader

IT'S HERE!!!!! okay, so many of you asked for a p.2 and it's here, finally. Thank you to everyone who left comments under Dream Of Me and now you have the second part. By the way, I think this shows my slight (huge) obsession with Sam's muscles and my lack of knowledge in blowjobs

Read "Dream Of Me" here

Summary: Sam's avoiding you, he's weird ever since he woke up and you had to question him about it sometime.

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected piv (which is fake and i do not encourage), oral (m. and f. recieving), nipple sucking, fingering (sort of), marking, angsty??? maybe, kissing, cursing, use of y/n, dean is done with these two, english is not my first language, NOT PROOF READ, ALL MISTAKES ARE MINE

WC: 11.6K (shhh, don't talk about it)

You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here

enjoy!

As soon as Sam arrived in the library and saw you standing there in those jeans that did wonders for your legs he immediately felt the room grow hotter. He felt like a high school boy who had just hit puberty with the way he was feeling today or as if it was the first time he dreamed with a woman in his bed – or other places for that matter. He did have feelings for you for some time, but everytime he thought about you, he thought about the sweetness of your smile or the way your laugh sounded when you were slightly drunk. Not about how loud he could make you scream his name.

Sam wasn’t innocent, and neither were you. He knew that you weren’t – he had heard, when the motel walls were too thin, the bed hitting against it and some curses of pleasure out of your mouth. And you most definitely knew he wasn’t, telling you and Dean the history he had with Ruby in excruciating detail even made you feel tingly inside.

Sam tried, badly, to be nonchalant about it around you but it was so difficult. Your plump lips moving as you explained the case, sometimes your tongue darting out to wet it, were driving him insane. He paid much more attention to the way you spoke to him with your hand on his shoulder during the drive to the case, your breath lightly hitting his face and reminding him of the hot kiss you shared in his head, your hand practically burning on his skin through his flannel. And when you finally found a motel to crash in for the time you stayed there, you started loading the gun barrels inside the boys room while Sam attempted to research and Dean was reading lore books on the small table the room had. The way you worked your fingers with your gun was so erotic without you even wanting it to be. Sam was on the verge of breaking as he stared at you, who was oblivious to his looks.

But one person that wasn’t oblivious was Dean Winchester. When he looked up from his book to Sam, ready to ask him a question, he almost immediately closed his mouth when he noticed Sam was doing anything but research. He looked at the way his brother was sitting, with an elbow on the table, resting his head on his hand, torso slightly turned in your direction, eyes trained on your hands. Dean then looked at you and was shocked that you hadn’t even acknowledged Sam’s stare. He smirked to himself as he shook his head in disbelief.

Of course Dean knew about Sam’s feelings. He got him to admit to his crush on you one night where the brothers were in a bar alone and you were in a hunt by yourself. Sam had just hung up his phone after talking to you, his slightly slurred words made you chuckle in the other end of the line and, when Sam put his phone down on the table, he wrapped one hand in his beer and sighed dreamily, staring mindlessly at his thumb that brushed the bottle left to right.

“Her laugh is so beautiful, it matches her” He murmured and Dean almost choked on his own beer, eyes widening at his brother, eyebrows furrowed. As if Sam had realized he actually said it out loud and not just thought, he looked over at Dean, face to face with his brother’s amused look. Sam just sighed disappointedly, knowing that there was no way he was escaping this, not even giving the ‘I’m just drunk!’ excuse. So, he just accepted it “Don’t tell her…”

As if all dots connected, Dean leaned back on his chair, a grin on his face as he thought about the interactions you and Sam had with each other and how it was actually quite obvious. “You like her?” Dean asked the obvious and Sam just nodded. After that, as the amazing older brother he is, Dean promised he wouldn’t utter a word to you about this and he was keeping his promise up to this day, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t tease the youngest about it…

“Hey Sam, have you found anything?” Dean spoke up and that seemed to wake Sam up from his trance. He cleared his throat and desperately tried to make it seem like he was concentrated fully on his assigned task.

“Um, y-yeah, all the victims died of blood loss and.. and there are bite marks…” Sam said, making you look up at him too, throwing your hair back with a movement of your head. Your hands had stopped working on the guns and you got up from the bed you were sitting, leaving the weapon behind. You walked until you were behind Sam and, using his body for support, putting your left hand over his right shoulder, you leaned in to look at the screen, confirming the information yourself.

Sam stiffened up the moment you got closer to him. With the way you were leaning in – your hand on him again – made him take a deep breath to stay put. He had his eyes glued on the laptop screen because he feared that if he glanced at you in any way he wouldn’t be able to control his most primal needs – A.K.A. avoid his sinful thoughts to take over and a boner to rise. He could feel your warmth behind him and, as you nodded and walked away, completely oblivious to the whirlwind of emotions in his head, he finally felt like he could breathe.

“It’s clearly vampires. Thank God we didn’t have to turn libraries upside down to figure this one out” You said with a slight smile to Dean, your arms crossed in front of you. He closed his book with a thud, thankful for not having to do much more. You turned back to Sam who, at this point, had also closed his laptop and seemed lost in thought.

To get your suit in your bag – that you left over the other bed –, you had to go past Sam and, as you did, you brushed a hand over his arm and got closer to his face, snapping him out of his thoughts. You lowered your voice a little, for Dean not to hear what you were about to say, a worried frown in your face.

“Hey, are you doing okay? You seem off” You ask, slightly tilting your head, your eyes searching into his for any kind of discomfort, be it emotional or physical.

Alarms went off inside Sam’s head and, as soon as he could gather his thoughts together, he suddenly stood up, making you pull away from him and widen your eyes, startled. You furrowed your eyebrows at him and he swallowed deeply, trying to moist his dry throat.

“I’m fine” He mumbles before going to the bathroom, brushing past you in a hurry, his arm bumping against your shoulder. You stare at the shut door once he locks himself inside, mouth agape and an offended look on your face. You turn to face Dean again, questioning him with a look. Dean shrugs his shoulders and gets up from his chair.

At this point you felt kind of…hurt. You had done nothing to Sam, not that you were aware of, and your face dropped. Dean felt the need to guarantee you that it was probably nothing but even he was confused. Sam tended to long to be beside you, to touch you, or have any excuse for you to touch him. He swallowed his jealousy when you had asked Dean once to take his shirt off to care for his wounds. That day, as you stitched the gash on his brother's abdomen, Sam stared daggers at Dean, who felt the need to reassure him that you were all Sam’s, that Dean saw you as a little sister and nothing else. 

This kind of avoidance towards you was weird to the point even you felt affected by it. You weren’t one to take things to the heart – you’re a hunter for fucks sake – but when it came to the boys, especially Sam, you felt worse than ever. They were often harsh, either with each other or with other people. Of course they had to be tough and mean when it came to it due to their line of work but, behind closed doors, they were the sweetest people you’ve ever met, always caring for you and one another and often sacrificing their own comfort – and sometimes their lives – so other people can sleep without worrying about what’s lurking in the night.

Still, it hurt when you became a victim of their temper and Sam being the one shutting you out this time was not only unexplainable but also like a punch to the gut. Let's say the tall, muscular and smart guy Sam Winchester was had you falling for him quickly – and, soon, harder – than you expected. He always tried to be as sweet as he could be and as understandable. He had a natural instinct to comfort the victims you guys often talked to, always the one to do the talking. You had noticed the way he approached the subject with care, especially if the victim was related to the interviewed in any way, and had taken that as a mental note. Hey, he’s good with words. 

But, Sam could also be firm and assertive when it came to it. Once, while you and him were interrogating a guy who wasn’t cooperating at all with you, even when you both were disguised as FBI, Sam snapped. His big hand came with full force against the table, his palm facing down and a loud bang echoing through the small room. It startled you to the point where you jumped slightly, eyes wide as you looked at your ‘partner’. Sam was fuming. His nostrils were flared and his eyebrows were low, casting a shadow over his eyes. He slowly leaned in closer to the guy's face, a wicked grin emerging on his face.

“Look…” He started, voice low, raspy. He gently pulled his suit aside, secretly showing the man his shiny, silver gun safely resting against his hip. You watched as the dude swallowed harshly and his eyes stared at the weapon. “If you won’t cooperate with us…” Sam straightened up, holding both his hands behind his back as he started to walk until he stood beside the guy. He leaned towards his ear, the guy completely frozen. “We are going to rip the truth out of you” He whispered.

You had struggled to keep your composure. The way Sam showed his power over the man – who ended up telling both of you his side of the story after the threat – was distracting. It was safe to say you had discovered something about yourself that day. You had sat the whole ride back to the motel with your legs crossed to numb the throbbing between your thighs as you imagined Sam talking to you that way, in different settings. A cold shower was barely enough to calm you down.

The mix of all these things and other little stuff about the younger brother is what made him special to you. And, now, he was avoiding you.

You sighed and walked back to the bed, sitting beside the guns you’ve left scattered over it, facing Dean’s direction. You leaned on your knees with your elbows, holding your head with your hands, squishing your cheeks and making your pout more prominent than intended. Dean looked at you with pity.

“Did I do something? Say something?” You ask Dean, looking up at him. Dean shakes his head and sighs, getting up from the chair and walking to the mini bar. You knew exactly what he was reaching for and you stretched a hand out to grab the beer bottle once he handed it to you. You opened it easily with your hand and took three big gulps of it. Dean opened his as he sat down beside you this time, on the bed, and threw the lid over the bedside table, the material clinking against the wood.

“Nah, you didn’t do anything, he’s just in a mood” He said but it didn’t seem to help, your face still sad and your head far away, filled with the wrong thoughts. He sighed and gave you a side hug, your head laying against his shoulder. Dean rubbed his hand up and down your upper arm mindlessly to comfort you. “Don’t worry about it sweetheart, you did nothing wrong, he’s just…being Sam, I’m sure this has nothing to do with you, okay? I’ll make sure to kick his ass later” He smiled.

You smiled slightly at the last part, shaking your head at the older Winchester, the typical brotherly teasing something you grew fond of.

Meanwhile, inside the bathroom, Sam was trying to keep it together. He had never felt this way before and it was driving him crazy trying to stay away from you because, at the same time he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if anything he did or said showed his attraction – physical and emotional – towards you, he was dreading this. He longed for your closeness, for your touch, not necessarily in a sexual way, much like the one of concern you had just given him. But right now everything became sexual to him, just your hand over his arms was enough to drive goosebumps over his spine.

He washed his face with the cold water from the sink, brushing his wet hand through his hair. He breathed deeply and dried his face, ready to leave the bathroom and go back to acting as if he didn’t want to kick Dean out of the room and have you right here, right now.

Once he opened the door, he regretted it almost immediately. When he saw Dean so close he clenched his hand against the door handle, swallowing his jealousy. You weren’t his, he reminded himself, he didn’t have the right to be jealous of someone that wasn’t his. But, oh, he was. It was uncontrollable, but undeniable.

He watched Dean’s hand rub up and down your arm, your head laid over his shoulder so comfortably. He bit the inside of his cheek as he approached the both of you to place his laptop back into its case. You had noticed his presence, lifting off of Dean and looking at his side profile. He won’t even look at me. You glanced at Dean, who had also realized his brother’s behavior, and gave him a disappointed look.

You sighed through your nose and grabbed your gun to put in the waistband of your jeans. You also took your bag that you always had with you on hunts, separate from the one with your personal items, and threw it over your shoulder. Dean just stared as you got ready to leave, not stopping you. He needed some alone time with Sam to ask him what the fuck was going on.

“I’m going to the car, we can leave once you’re both ready” You said. Dean acknowledged it with an ‘Okay’ and Sam just hummed. You opened the door and left, angrily walking towards Baby.

As soon as the door closed behind you Dean got up from the bed and aggressively spun Sam around, grabbing at his shoulder.

“Hey–!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dean interrupted, and an angry scowl on his face. He whisper-yelled, still worried that you might hear them. Sam gave him a confused look and Dean rolled his eyes at the stupidity of his brother. “Why are you acting like this with her?”

“Acting like what?” Sam bit back, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Stop pretending like you don’t know Sammy! Why are you ignoring Y/N all of a sudden? Weren’t you the one all” Dean raised his hands, doing quotation marks with both his index and middle fingers “‘head over heels’ for her, hm?”

Now it was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. He crossed his arms in front of him, slightly looking down at his brother due to the height difference. “It’s nothing” He mumbled, looking away. Images of you roamed around his head at Dean’s question and it reminded him why he was doing this in the first place. He was avoiding you for your own good, you and your friendship with him.

“It’s not nothing, damn it, the girl thinks she did something. Did she? Because you sure make it look like you are angry with her” Dean kept poking at the subject, getting on Sam’s nerves. His face softened once his brother told him you felt bad. “What happened?” Dean asked again, this time a little more softly after he noticed Sam’s face drop at his words.

Sam sighed and looked around the room, nervous. He didn’t know if he should actually tell Dean about this – he’d definitely make fun of him endlessly. But still, he didn’t know if making you sad was worth it. He ran a hand through his hair, something he did when he was under pressure and mumbled “I had a dream”

“What?” Dean asked, not understanding whatever language his brother just spoke.

“A dream”

“Dream? What do you mean?”

“I had a dream…with Y/N”

“What do you mean a dream with–” Realization suddenly hits Dean “...Oh” and he relaxes his eyebrows, like he just made sense of everything that happened that day. Then he smirks. Smirks and starts to laugh his ass off as Sam just stands there, cheeks flushed, waiting for his brother to calm down. He knew it.

Sam started to smile slightly as his brother kept trying to talk over his laughter, his embarrassment almost gone. Once Dean finally took a few breaths, a hand on his chest as he dried his fake tears and his laughter died down with a sigh. He looked at Sam who stood there absolutely flushed.

“Man, that’s why you were taking longer in the shower than usual” Dean said with a fake disgust in his face. “Remember me to wash that bathroom twice before using”

“Shut up” Sam mumbled and looked away, suddenly deep in thought. Dean stopped joking and crossed his arms, giving Sam a silent questioning look. Sam glanced at his brother. “What?”

“This kind of still doesn’t answer my question. Why are you avoiding her?” Dean asked and Sam looked at him like he had three heads. “Shouldn’t this make you, and I can’t believe I’m saying this but, excited to be around her”

“Dean, come on, I don’t want her to think I’m a pervert and, besides, she doesn’t even like me that way” And when Sam said that, Dean’s eyeballs almost popped out of his head, his eyes widening at his brother. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, asking the Lord above – better yet, Chuck – to give him the strength to deal with Sam’s stupidity.

“Do you not see it?” He asks. Sam makes a face.

“See what?”

“Oh my God, are you blind Sammy? Or just severely oblivious?” Dean inquiries. “She’s so obviously into you it hurts to watch”

“Dean, please–”

“Don’t ‘please’ me! It’s so clear! She’s always near you when she has the chance, she always insists on helping you when you get hurt on hunts, she looks at you like you’re the last man on Earth, she always worries so much about you…”

“She does the same with you and…” Sam bit the inside of his cheek “...you guys seemed pretty cozy when I came out of the bathroom”

Dean almost hit Sam right then and there, or took one of the guns and shot him through his leg – as a warning. How could he even…?

“Are you fucking serious? That girl is like a sister to me. And why would I even flirt with her when I know you’re into the chick? I’m bad but not that bad, I ain’t stealing your girl” Dean reasures Sam.

His girl. Dean said. But you weren’t his. Sam sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, a million thoughts running through his head. He walked close to the bed and sat down, his and his brother’s guns slightly bouncing over the mattress with the added weight. He held his head in his hands, his hair falling beside his face, his elbows propped over his knees.

“What am I supposed to do?” Sam asks, helpless. Dean shakes his head.

“Talk to her, it’s as simple as that” Dean responded as if it truly was that easy. Sam thought about it. You weren’t gonna hate him for liking you and, maybe, Dean was right and you liked him too. It was a 50/50 chance between rejection and love. He weighed his options and decided in his mind.

Sam suddenly got up, startling Dean. He grabbed his gun and bag, walking around with a determined gaze. Dean accompanied his movements with his eyes, wanting to question the youngest about what conclusion he had gotten to but he was soon with a hand on the door handle and he looked back at his older brother, smiling.

“Let’s go, we have things to kill”

It was safe to say that seeing you in a suit didn’t help Sam’s mind as it roamed back to those thoughts. As said before, you looked good in absolutely anything, but boy could you absolutely tear a man apart with the way you looked. You styled your hair in a more professional way using Baby’s rear view mirror and it looked amazing, your strands glowing in the faint daylight the day had left.

You were both standing close enough so that Sam was able to smell your perfume and the scent of your hair products. It became harder to concentrate on whoever you were interviewing, his eyes wandering to stare at the back of your head, wanting to see inside your brain for any message that said ‘Hey Sam, I’m into you too!’

Dean had gone elsewhere to deal with other things regarding the case so that left you and Sam. Alone. You felt, for the first time in years that you knew Sam, awkward to be around him. On the ride to the witness’ house, you barely talked, something that rarely happened between the two of you. You thought about asking what was wrong but that didn’t work the first time so you hadn’t done it again.

Right now, you sat on the passenger seat of the Impala, staring at Sam's hands gripping the steering wheel. He had hardly looked at you throughout the whole day — or so you thought.

Sam was in an intense battle inside his head and the way you kept looking at him wasn't helping. When he left the room after talking to Dean, he thought he felt brave enough to tell you everything he wanted to but, once he saw you sitting in the backseat in all your beauty, he was reminded of why he hadn't done it before.

He looked at you in secret everytime you were distracted. The way your hips moved when you walked, the way you crossed your legs in the seat every now and then. Oh what he wouldn't give to squeeze your thighs between his fingers right now. You had your arms crossed in front of your chest and — may Sam be forgiven — but the way it made your breasts look when you did that.

He gripped his fingers against the steering wheel even tighter, grounding himself from his thoughts, his knuckles turning white. He sped up the car, unconsciously trying to get back to the motel quicker.

You looked at his side profile then, a quizzical look on your face. He still didn’t look at you.

“Sam” You called. He didn't acknowledge it entirely, his head to focused on not getting a boner at the thought of fucking you in the backseat. You inch closer to him, a hand on his shoulder, “Sam!”

“What!” He answers, dryly. You brush it off, already used to his attitude for the day.

“You don't need to go that fast, we aren't in a hurry, God damn” You huff and pull your hand away from him, sinking back down in your seat angrily.

“Okay, sorry” He mumbles. You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. A message from Dean. You take your phone and read the message. “Found a bar, don’t wait for me to get back ;)”. You chuckle and send an answer back knowing you’d probably only see him next morning. You told him to be safe – in all ways – and not drink too much. Sam looked at you from the corner of his eye. “Who’s that?”

“Madonna” You reply, sarcastically. He doesn’t say anything so you look at his face, which has an annoyed expression over it. “It’s Dean, he found a bar, told us not to wait for him”

Sam hums in acknowledgement and silence settles again, letting your mind wander over the possibilities of why Sam was acting with you this way. You were usually pretty playful, talked a lot with each other, either in the car or before you both parted ways to sleep, each in your own room. This silence, this avoidance was driving you nuts trying to figure out what happened. You felt like crying, honestly, overwhelmed with this feeling inside you. These feelings, plural. Your feelings for Sam mixed with this sickness that downed on you when you would notice he could barely say a word to you.

Lost in your head, you almost didn’t notice when Sam parked Baby in the motel's parking lot, only realizing it when the comforting hum of the engine went away. You both got out of the car, getting your bags in the trunk. You weren’t in the same room as the boys but you felt the need to talk to Sam so, when you came up behind him to his door and got inside his room, stepping in and quickly closing the door behind you, he was confused.

“Aren’t you going to–”

“What’s going on?” You asked, throat tight and heart aching, but you refused to cry. Sam furrowed his eyebrows and you stepped closer to him, standing barely two feet away from the Winchester.

“You’ve been acting cold towards me all day! All damn day. And I have no idea why.” You pressed your index against his chest accusingly, pushing him back slightly, not because you were necessarily stronger, but because you caught him off guard, your outburst was unexpected.

“I didn’t–”

“I tried, okay? I tried to figure out what I did but I…I don’t know. I tried to talk to you earlier today and you brushed me off, you seem incapable of looking at me properly, you’re cold, you’re quiet and I have no idea why so, please tell me. What’s going on?”

Your eyes were glassy and your heart was racing. Sam was speechless, he didn’t know you were feeling this way. Dean had told him, of course, but he had no idea you were actually that affected by his distancing. And to think that he only stood away because he didn’t want to make you feel bad or creeped out about his nervousness, it had the exact opposite effect. He felt his heart sink as he saw you holding back tears and his first instinct was to wrap his arms around you.

You hugged him back, thankful for some reassurance that he at least didn’t hate you, your arms wrapped around his waist and your face pressed against his chest. Sam caressed your head, your hair feeling soft under his fingers.

“You didn’t do anything, Y/N, don’t say that” He told you.

You pulled away from his chest to look at him. “Then tell me what’s wrong”

Sam sighs and closes his eyes momentarily. He had imagined this moment thousands of times, where he told you about how he felt. He couldn’t believe it would be after he ignored you because you were too hot to handle. He looked at you again, drowning in your beautiful eye color, one that he could stare for hours at its beauty. He then looked up, asking for the strength to tell you all he wanted, his throat visible to you as he swallowed his nerves.

“Actually, yeah, you kind of did something” He says, moving his hands until he was holding your upper arms, a smirk on his lips as he eyes you down. You opened your mouth, shocked, but, before you could say anything, he continued. “You drive me crazy, Y/N”

You stood still, scared to move as he talked. You were confused, lost. Hadn’t he just said you had nothing to do with this? Meanwhile, Sam just looked at you for a few seconds, silent. He took you in completely, your body still hidden under the FBI suit but he felt like he already had it memorized. He wanted to touch you, to feel you and he felt like, if he held back any longer, he could lose you. Lose you to someone who wasn’t scared of loving you. “Sam, I don’t–”

“Just– Look at you. You are one of the most amazing women I know, you’re strong, you’re smart, you– God, there’s no words that can describe just how incredible you are. You care for people more than you do for yourself and, even if that makes me angry sometimes, it just shows how big of a heart you have” He takes a breath. “You can be dying but you’d still put a bandaid on someone's scraped knee just because they asked you to, because you care.”

Sam slowly moves his hands to hold you by your neck, his rough palms hot against your skin. You had no words, you just hoped that your eyes could talk for you as you stared into his hazel ones. You had so much to say but words refused to form in your mouth. You never thought Sam would be the one to confess, hell, you never thought he even liked you that way. Hearing him say those things was like getting hit by a train of happiness. You raised your hands to wrap around his wrists, gently holding them as you prayed for him to continue.

“You’re the girl I picture to be forever in my life, if not as a lover, please let it be as a friend. I can’t bear the thought of losing you, but, at the same time, I can’t keep these feelings to myself much longer. If you don’t want me that way, it’s fine, but I need you here with me, one way or another” Sam finishes and starts searching your face for any kind of reaction. He just put his heart in your hands and it was up to you to shatter it or not. He felt his nerves on fire. He rubbed his thumb against your jawline to keep himself grounded and hold onto the comforting thought that you hadn’t pulled away from his touch.

You suddenly smiled, wide and proud. Sam seemed to relax when he saw it, a breath he didn’t know he was holding coming out of his mouth. You felt a rush of happiness go through you as you realized he wasn’t avoiding you because he was mad at you, he was avoiding you because he wanted you so bad he felt like he could make you mad. And that was so Sam. It was exactly like him to tone down his own feelings because of other people and how they might feel, even if it eats him on the inside. What felt even better is that he managed to muster up the courage to come here and tell you about everything in the most Sam way possible, in a way that made shivers run through you.

“Sam Winchester, if you don’t kiss me right now I might just–” He didn’t even let you finish, his plump lips crashing against yours in earnest. He waited months for this and there was no way he was delaying this further. Your words are swallowed down by his mouth along with a surprised gasp you let out. One of his hands went further until it held you behind your neck, his thumb still caressing your jaw as relieved breaths came out of his nose, he was so nervous he would get dumped and his heart crushed that kissing you felt better than anything he ever imagined. The dream might’ve been good but actually kissing you felt so, so much better.

Your lips were sweet and your skin felt soft, a big contrast against his rough hands from handling weapons and burning bones. Those dreams of his came to mind yet again, the thought of exploring your whole body with his mouth made him groan, opening his mouth and teasing your lips with his tongue so you’d open them. You gladly did, letting one of your hands wrap around the base of his neck, pulling him in. 

He lowered one of his hands to your waist through the inside of your black suit, pulling your body flush against his, squeezing your skin through the layers of clothing, eager to feel every inch of you. You groaned at his touch, a surge of heat polling into your belly. His hands took the opportunity to explore what he could – like dream Sam did – trailing his fingers up your back and you shivered, the light touch just making your need for him bigger.

His tongue explored your mouth, the kiss growing more heated within the moment. He starts to gently take the suit off your body, sliding it against your arms without breaking the kiss. Sam thinks for the first time in the last few seconds. He thinks about all the times he imagined being able to do this and, now that he had the chance and his feelings were reciprocated, he wanted to make it as good as possible for the both of you. He pulls away, wanting to make sure that you are on board with this.

His breathing is heavy and his cheeks are flushed as he looks at you, pupils dilated with desire – desire for you. Not once in your life have you thought that Sam would look at you that way – and God how much you dreamed of it. He was always much more secretive with his antics than Dean was, often keeping to himself instead of bragging about it, but you knew. You knew he was a passionate lover and the way he behaves just gives away how much of a gentleman he must be in bed. 

“Is this okay? Are you okay with this?” He asked you, voice filled with lust and deeper than his usual. You could’ve melted right then and there as he looked between your eyes, searching for any discomfort. Instead of telling him, you decided to show Sam how bad you wanted him. You slowly walked back, dropping the suit he already had taken halfway off from your body to the ground. You didn’t take your eyes off of him and he stared intensely at you right back, attentive to what you were going to do.

Your hands slowly trailed up your body, roaming through your curves and you see Sam swallow, his fists clenching and unclenching beside him, his throat so deliciously biteable. Once your fingers arrived at the top button of your white shirt, you started to unbutton one by one, slowly. You took your time, eyes trained on his with a smirk on your lips. You were playing bold but the way he was looking at you made your knees weak. His eyes were analyzing every movement of your hands and he stood unbelievably still, like a hunter watching its prey, careful to not scare it away.

Once the last button was undone, you dropped the white clothing to the ground. You now stood in your bra, the cold of the room hitting your skin and making goosebumps rise over it. You got closer to the man again and he accompanied you with his hazel orbs, now a tone darker due to his dilated pupils and the poor lighting in the room. You took one of his hands and placed it against your bare skin, the hot touch making you sigh before grabbing him by the neck with the other hand, bringing his face closer but, instead of kissing him, you placed your mouth closer to his ear.

“I want you, Sam” You whisper in his ear and leave a kiss right below it. Sam squeezed his eyes shut, keeping as much control as he could, biting his lower lip. He groans and a ton of thoughts go through his head – you, naked below him, your attitude gone as he fucks it out of you, pleasurable moans of his name coming out of your mouth. I want you, you said. He strongly grips your hips with both hands, making you yelp, and pushes you towards the bed, manhandling you successfully. Once your back is against the mattress, Sam immediately attacks your neck, kisses and bites making you sigh his name and arch your back into him.

“You have no idea what you do to me” He mumbled against your skin. And, really, you had no clue. He had spent the whole day thinking about this exact moment. The whole day, more like the last 4 months. The months where he had the urge to smash whatever man’s head that flirted with you against a wall and kiss you right then and there, in front of everyone to show who you truly belonged to. “For ages I’ve been thinking about you like this, you are everything that I think about and it’s driving me insane. You drive me insane”

He bites you particularly harder and you moan, your hand flying to his head and tugging at his hair. “Sam!” Your plea came out pathetically needy and he pulled away from your neck to look you in the face, his strong arms caging you beneath him and making you focus solely on the grin he had displayed on his lips. He kisses your lips again, passionate and needy, a groan rippling deep in his throat.

With his lips still glued to yours, he tugged his own suit away from his body, fumbling with the clothing and throwing it away so quick you barely noticed it, loosening his tie and bringing his hands right back to your body, because now that he could touch you, there was nothing in the world that could take him away. He landed his hands on your ribs and trailed then behind your back, his fingers teasing against your bra.

He broke the kiss and with unsteady breaths close to your mouth he asked: “Can I?” as he teases his finger under the bra strap. You hummed in approval and grabbed both his cheeks, giving him a firm peck on the lips to emphasize it.

“Yes, you can, please” You say. It came out much needier than intended but Sam didn’t seem to mind. You thought he didn’t, but he did. He smiled at you, feeling pride in the thought of making you needy and, hearing your voice – that’s so assertive and strong on a daily basis – breathy and desperate, made him wonder why he hadn’t done this earlier. You looked stunning under him and no dream could ever picture what he was seeing. Your eyes hooded, mouth agape and thumbs caressing the stubble on his face, eager to touch him as much as he was to touch you. He was looking right through the gates of heaven.

He proceeded to unclasp your bra, gently taking it off of you. He does all that without taking his eyes off your face and only allows himself to look down once the undergarment was long forgotten, laying on the ground. You didn’t know what to do or where to look, turning your face from him and feeling your cheeks heat up. You, of course, had been with other men in bed and you never truly cared if they didn’t think of you above a one night stand – you didn’t think much of them either. But Sam made you feel nervous. He was being so caring up until now, contrasting against most men you’ve been with, the thought of not reciprocating it properly made you shy below him.

He was appreciating the perfection he had under him, his fingers trailing your sides affectionately when he noticed your face turning away. You were biting your lip and avoiding his piercing gaze and he raised a hand to hold your chin, slowly turning your face to look at him again. He kissed you to ease your nerves but, this time, it wasn’t lustful, it wasn’t simply a carnal need, he kissed you with love, with passion and you could feel it tearing through your soul, his feelings pouring out and painting your insides.

He pulled back again and his eyes traveled through your face as a smile painted his lips. “You’re beautiful” He says and you smile back at him widely, your heart racing in your chest. You didn’t know what to say to that so you grabbed at his loose tie that hung just below your jaw and pulled him in harshly, smashing your lips against his. The unexpected move made Sam lose his balance and you took the opportunity to change your positions, laying him back on the bed as you straddled his waist with your legs.

Sam gripped your hips as you made out, gently rolling you over him and you felt it. You felt him under you through the clothing you both still had on and a whine escaped your lips into the kisses. Sam leaves your lips to start attacking your neck, leaving hickeys and bites behind. He was holding onto the last ounce of control he had, you were just so much. Every little noise you made went straight to his cock and he couldn’t handle it anymore, you still had too much clothing on and he needed to do something about it.

Sam turned both of you over again and left your lips to stand straight in front of you. The sight of you half naked, splayed out over the bed, hair messed up, shiny spots from his saliva against your neck and collarbone was very close to the sight he’d dreamed about. But a hundred times better. Because this was real, he was touching you, kissing you, marking you and making you his.

He felt suffocated in his own clothes and he took the opportunity to take off his tie and his white shirt along the way, slowly revealing his defined body. You swallowed to try and not drool over the sight, his strong physique covered by a thin layer of sweat, the tattoo he had on his chest contrasting against his tanned torso and few scars he had here and there. Some were white, others were pink-ish – more recent – but he looked fabulous no matter what. You’d seen him shirtless before, while patching him up or when the bunker was too hot for either of the brothers but none of those situations were as intimate as this. He was half naked only for your eyes to see – as much as you were for his.

He noticed your stare and he smirked as he approached your lower belly with his mouth. You held your breath and closed your eyes as his mouth made contact with your skin. From then on, he kissed his way up, biting here and there in places only you would know if the mark was still there the next day. He kissed your own scars that were scattered through your torso softly, treating them with care because, as much as him, you had gotten hurt on hunts. Besides, he found it amazing how strong you were. He admired you and your scars were there to prove to everyone who saw you that you were a fighter.

His hands came up alongside his kisses, caressing your sides so lightly it was almost ticklish. When his mouth got to the valley of your breasts he looked up at you, a question in his eyes. He had his hands placed right below your boobs, not moving, not touching them, just there as he waited for your approval. You were burning up from the inside out, the sight was so much. His eyes pleading for you to let him touch you, his hair making a curtain around his face.

“Touch me, Sam” You whisper, knowing that even if it wasn’t loud, he could hear you. He grinned and went right into action, his hands filling themselves up with your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples. You let out a low moan, the little stimulation you got from his fingers finally doing something to soothe the fire inside you.

He joined with his mouth, sucking and licking deliciously at it. You flew a hand to tangle into his hair, unconsciously tugging at his roots when he lightly bit at your nipple. Sam would groan against your skin every time you would tighten your fingers in his hair and he felt like he could cum just by hearing your faint pleas and breathless whines. He continued kissing up after that, his hands still squeezing your breasts lightly.

His mouth marked your collarbones with hickeys, painting your skin with reds and purples. He nipped at your neck, sucking at your pulse point and you bucked your hips against his, the pleasure too much and too little all at once. He was taking his time with you, appreciating every second that he could get and yet you felt his desperation when he tightened his hands around your boobs once your crotch hit his.

You tugged his hair harder to bring his face close to yours and Sam complied. You smashed your lips against his, the kiss all tongue and teeth, completely desperate. Your breathing was heavy and Sam brought his hands to your back, lifting it off the bed and making your chest glue against his, your sensitive nipples grinding against his skin. You clawed your nails on his shoulders to keep yourself together, markings that looked like half moons left behind in your desperation to remind you all this was real.

You dragged your hands down his arms, nails lightly scraping over his skin, and gently guided his forearms down, his hands going along. He proceeded to rest his palms over your covered ass, groaning in your mouth when he realized what you were insinuating. You wanted more, needed more.

You pulled back from his mouth just enough so you could talk. You opened your eyes to see one of the sexiest views you’ve ever encountered. Sam’s mouth was open, unsteady breaths hitting your mouth as his eyes stared down at you. You brought a hand to his cheek and just appreciated the sight for a moment before your mouth gave him an open mouthed kiss below his jaw. You felt goosebumps down your spine when he moaned lightly at your action, his hands squeezing at your ass. You placed your mouth close to his ear and Sam closed his eyes, waiting to see what you were going to do now.

“Fuck me, Sammy, don’t hold back” You whispered and Sam’s knees almost gave out, the nickname he usually hated hearing sounding so sweet coming out of your mouth. He pulled back to look at you.

“Are you sure?” He asked, looking between your mouth and your eyes. You nodded.

“Yes” Was all you had to say before he grabbed at the hem of your pants, dragging them down your legs. He distanced himself from you to kneel between your legs, face to face with your covered pussy, the only thing you were wearing now being your panties.

After discarding your pants, Sam roamed his hands slowly up your legs, from your ankles to where your hips connected to your thigh. You were clenching and unclenching your fists beside your body, holding your torso up with your elbows and looking down to see him hypnotized by your soaked underwear, his eyes glued. You were embarrassedly wet and, as Sam dragged a finger over it, grinding against your neglected clit, you bucked against his hand, whining.

“Sam…” You pleaded and he finally looked up at you. You were taking deep breaths, your chest going up and down, decorated by the marks left by his mouth and teeth. You looked stunning. “Do something” 

And he does. He kisses right above your covered sex and you moan deep in your throat again, fingers gripping the sheets. Sam was feeling pride in himself. He was the one who got you like this, not any other man. He was the one you were begging for and he was the one who was going to give you everything you wanted. He wanted to worship you atom by atom of your being because that was what you deserved, he was going to treat you like the goddess you were.

He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and, like he was opening a present he long wished for, – which was kind of true – he takes it off so calmly you were close to combusting. When Sam finally sees you completely nude for the first time, only for his eyes to see and outside of his dirty dreams, he hums in delight. Fucking hums. He’s done for the moment he sees your cunt, wet and glistening just for him. Oh how badly he wanted this, for so, so long he wanted you like this and now he was finally fulfilling his deepest desire.

He squeezes your thighs in his hands before reaching for your sex, his middle finger collecting your wetness in his finger. You buck against his hand again, this time even more sensitive and neglected than before. And you cry out, not with tears, but a desperate sob for attention. Sam notices that and looks up at your face to see your eyebrows furrowed and a sheen of sweat in your forehead, you looked so fucked out without even him actively doing anything. He softened and caressed your sides with his hands, soothing your nerves – or trying to, at least.

“Shh, pretty girl, I’m gonna take care of you” He says “I’m just appreciating how perfect you are, taking my time with the girl of my dreams”

Your face softened and you felt your cheeks warm up even more than they already were. You bit back a smile. You felt unique at that moment, as if you were the only woman in the world as he said the sweetest words inches away from your pussy, it was almost laughable to think that one of the most romantic things you’ve ever heard was said between your legs.

Sam smiled at you and started kissing your inner thighs, so close yet so far from where you truly wanted him. He loved kissing your skin, he loved to feel you and you were keeping that in mind. He expressed his love physically rather than using words and you were just realizing it wasn’t just in bed he was like that. He always wanted to cook for you, he knew how you liked your drink, he would take care of you when you would get too drunk or when you were hurt or not feeling great. He hugged you, kissed the top of your head, pranked you. He gave you his jacket when you were cold or for you to use as a pillow when you were sleeping on a longer ride. He protected you, even if he knew you didn’t need it, either literally, putting his body in front of yours when someone or something threatened you, or not letting you go alone on hunts – including this one, where you had offered to go alone to questioning and, even if he was technically avoiding you, he wasn’t going to let you go solo.

Sam had loved you for so long and you were oblivious. Were. Because now he was digging his fingers in your thighs, mouth closing over your clit and you were arching your back. His stubble scratched your inner thighs, adding more to the building pleasure in your belly. He sucked at your cunt so skillfully that you wondered how long you would last like this and how much he had practiced to have a mouth that was able to do that. He moved his hands to your ass again, bringing your hips up and burying his face deeper into your heat.

He felt like he could die happy between your thighs because he wasn’t leaving there anytime soon. You were delicious and he was drinking in your noises like a drug, getting high off his lust and your taste. He hummed and groaned against your pussy, his cock pulsing so bad it practically hurt, almost cumming in his pants just from this.

“Sam– Oh God, please, please, plea–se” You cried out, the pleasure almost too much, the foreplay making you sensitive to a level you felt everything ten times harder. Sam knew exactly what he did to you, it was like he edged you consciously, knowing you’d beg for him louder once he finally got to touching you. And damn him because it worked, you were a moaning mess and he would be lying if it didn’t stroke his ego to hear you plead for him, submitting to his ministrations so quickly, it was adorable.

He was eating you out with everything he had, digging his nails on your skin. You were soon close to the edge, tightening your thighs around his head so he would not pull away. Everything around you consisted only of him, his scent, his noises, his body, him. It was overwhelming and, with a loud cry of his name, you came, hard.

The room went out of focus, your eyes rolling back in pure pleasure. You had trapped Sam’s head between your legs and he hadn’t stopped. He kept licking you clean, completely lost in your pussy. He could stay like that forever, until his jaw went sore, just so that he could hear you over and over again while he’s nose deep into your cunt. He only comes back to the real world – the one that doesn’t consist in an infinite loop of your voice moaning his name – when you pull at his hair and your thighs open space to let him get up.

“T’much Sammy'' You say, breathless. You bring him up from your cunt, and look at his face, glistening with your juices, a giddy smile on his lips – like a kid who just got a truckload of candy dumped at their house – and cheeks red from the heat. You smile back at him and giggle. Who would’ve thought that he would make you cry for him to touch you and, minutes later, you’d be laughing at his mischievous grin from making you cum.

You brought him back up with a hand behind his neck and he gladly crawled on the bed until he was face to face with you again, his hands supporting his upper body so he wouldn’t crush you. You looked at him for a few seconds, a look that you intended to fill with love and care and he reciprocated, his head angling 45° with a gentle smile that made him look absolutely adorable. You put a strand of his hair behind his ear, which proved useless as it fell right back to curtain his face, his hair being too straight and too soft to hold up like that. You chuckled lightly and pulled him in for a kiss.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, the saltiness making you hum in his mouth. The kiss grew heated fast and you started to roam your hands over his chest, his muscles tensing under your light palms. You explored his body as much as he did to yours, caressing over every visible muscle he had – which, honestly, was a lot. When you got to his abs, Sam broke the kiss to let out a shaky breath. He gently grabbed your wrists and kneeled on the bed, his body now in its full glory above you, the lightning in the room making his body even more defined.

With your wrists in his hand, Sam dragged your palms, that were flattened against his skin, lower. And lower. Until you were touching the hem of his pants that he still, incredibly, had on. You stared at the bulge he had right below, swallowing thickly and letting out a deep breath, your cunt clenching in response. He looked big. You should have an idea, Sam was 6’4, of course it would be proportional to his height but God if it didn’t make you think about swallowing him down, the tip hitting the back of your throat, tears welling up in your eyes as he fucked your face.

“Want me to take them off?” You hear his voice, snapping you out of your fantasies. You looked up at him and down again. You hooked your fingers in the waistband and, on cue, Sam let go of your wrists. You slowly brought his pants and underwear down at the same time, too eager to keep up the foreplay and too desperate to tease.

When you finally see it, an audible groan reverbates in the back of your throat. Sam moans lowly, the pain from the constriction caused by his boxers and pants finally going away and making him even more aware of the neglect his dick got up til now. He watches your reaction carefully and, one of the first things you do is throw your legs back, standing on your knees, one hand supporting your body as the other stops midway to his dick. Sam felt his whole body burn with need. God what did he do to deserve you.

You were on all fours in front of him, head inches from his cock, eyes now looking up at him with a question. You felt like if you opened your mouth you would drool, you needed him inside it and you were silently asking him if it was okay.

Sam angled his torso to bring his face closer to yours, grabbing your chin with his hand and giving you a firm peck on the lips. “Do it, beautiful” He whispered against your mouth and straightened up again and you confirmed with a nod before wrapping your hand around his dick.

Sam breathed out when you started to pump him, your hand doing light movements. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh of your name, a silent plea and you gladly listened. You wrapped your mouth around the tip, just the tip for now, and circled your tongue around it, the salty taste of precum invading your mouth. Sam’s hand instantly flew to your head, encouraging you to take him deeper, but not forcing you. Still, you started to relax your throat and took as much of him as you could, hollowing your cheeks.

“Y/N, baby, Jesus” Sam sighed and your insides tingled. You took what you couldn’t take in your mouth with your hand, squeezing and pumping using your spit as lube. You could feel Sam holding back, his hips stuttering every now and again. You braced yourself, deciding to give him more, and placed your hands on his thighs, tapping it twice with your index finger. Sam looked down at you, swallowing his breathy groans. He damn near came just by looking at you, those beautiful eyes staring up at him, your mouth wrapped around his dick. He concentrated, remembering the silent message you sent him.

“I don’t want to hurt you” He said and you did your best to shake your head no in your conditions. You won’t. And emphasized it by squeezing his thighs and pushing your head forward. Sam sighed and nodded. “Okay, but if it’s too much, tap three times, get it doll?” He asked. The nickname made you shiver, his voice sounding so sweet calling you that. Brushing it off you tapped his thigh three times, just for him to know you understood what he said. 

Sam started to rock his hips back and forth slowly, using your mouth for his pleasure. All you did was relax your throat as much as you could and breathe through your nose. He started to quicken up within time, losing his control as his release came closer. He was grunting and moaning and all his noises went straight to your pussy. He let out sighs of your name, his head thrown back and his neck glistening with sweat, his Adam's apple bobbing everytime he swallowed.

Too enamored by his noises, you lost focus and gagged on his cock, tears stinging your eyes. Sam loudly moaned your name at that, hips faltering as he tugged at your head to take your mouth off his cock. His breathing was heavy and his mouth was dry and he stood face to face with you to kiss your lips again, moaning inside your mouth. You were a bit disappointed that he hadn’t cum but you swallowed his whines gladly with your mouth, clasping your hands on each one of his cheeks. He pulled away and caressed a thumb over your lips.

“What have you got in that mouth of yours sweetheart?” He asked with a smirk and you bit your lip.

“Says the one who was eating me out like a starved man” You replied, wrapping one arm around his neck as your index finger traced his lips before giving them a peck, smiling once you pulled away. He smiled at you before wrapping his arms around your waist, like he would in a hug, and throwing you back. You shrieked as you landed on your back and Sam laid practically on top of you, attacking your face with tiny kisses, making you laugh under him.

Once he stopped, he just stared down at you. “Hi” He said.

“Hi” You whispered back after your laugh died down.

“Did I already tell you you’re beautiful?”

“Once…twice”

“You’re beautiful” He said, again “I’ll never stop telling you that”

“I can deal with it” You teased and he chuckled, going right back to kissing you.

Sam was one of a kind. You had taken some time to truly understand why you had fallen in love with him in the first place but there was not just one thing that made Sam Winchester special, everything he did just added up. From the huge things to the tiny details, he just was so easy to fall in love with and these moments were definitely one of those in the list, in which, no matter the situation, good or bad, Sam could make you smile.

As he kissed you now, his hands roamed your body like he had done before until two of his fingers teased at your entrance and you rolled your hips against his hand. Blowing him had made you aroused again and you could feel your wetness coating his fingers. Sam smirked in your mouth before slowly inserting his middle and ring finger inside your wetness. Your mouth left his to let out a moan, your foreheads glued.

Sam opened his eyes to watch your expression as he hooked his fingers inside you. You whined, your eyebrows furrowed and your nails left angry red trails over his shoulders. He lowered his head to kiss your neck open mouthed. He started to scissor his fingers inside you, preparing for what you knew was coming and you gladly relaxed around his fingers, grinding your cunt on his digits.

“Sweetheart, I need to be inside you, I need you” He whispered in your ear and you whined at the thought, nodding in approval.

“Yes, Sammy, please” You breathlessly said. Sam took his fingers out from your hole and you held back a complaint from the emptiness once you saw him pumping his hardened cock with the hand he used his fingers to prepare you, lubricating himself with your juices. He lined himself up with your entrance and looked at you again.

He wanted to watch you as he sunk himself into your heat and that’s what he did. He slowly started to enter you and your mouth opened in a silent moan at the stretch. He was filling you up deliciously well, right in the division between pain and pleasure and, the deeper he went, the harder your nails dug on his shoulders.

Sam was also struggling. Your tightness enveloped him in a way no one had ever done before and it felt so fucking good to bury himself inside you. He started to distract you from the possible painful stretch with kisses over your collarbones and neck, focusing on relaxing your body so he could make love to you properly.

At last, you felt his pelvis connect with yours and you were so amazingly full. His dick hit places inside you you could never reach alone and it felt incredible. 

Once you were used to his size and craving more, you rolled your hips against his, making Sam suck in a breath. He was trying to keep his composure but he was holding on his last ounces of control and when you moved he damn nearly lost it.

“You can move” You whisper and Sam wastes no time fulfilling your request, immediately starting to pump into you. He was euphoric, his mind was blurry as only images of you naked under him and begging for him to fuck you went through his head. You would tighten your walls around him from time to time and that would cause his breathing to falter and his hips to stutter.

You weren’t much different, every buck of his hips would hit you in a spot that made you see starts. You were already overstimulated from his previous ministrations so you knew you weren’t going to last long and, from the way Sam was twitching inside you, you knew he wasn’t going to either.

“Sam, I’m s’close” You moaned close to his ear.

“Me too, baby” He said as he brought his hand to press over your lower belly. You nearly screamed as he did that, you could feel him even better, his shape feeling like it was being permanently molded inside you. Along with it, he reached a thumb to rub over your clit – his big hands be damned – and at that you finally went over the edge with a desperate cry of his name. 

Your vision blurred as the only thing you knew was real was the feeling of emptiness since Sam was chasing his own release after leaving your warmth. He pumped his cock a few times and proceeded to cum over your belly, painting your skin with his liquids. You were spread out on the bed for a while longer after that, Sam panting above you, his softening dick still in his hand and you completely fucked out with a lazy smile on your face.

Once that high passed, Sam took you to the bathroom – bridal style – and cleaned you up in the bathtub with warm water and gave you the privacy you needed after he sorted himself out too, leaving the bathroom on his boxers.

You took your time, using the toilet so as to not get any infections and leaving the bathroom completely naked, too lazy to actually put clothes on. You just wanted to sleep beside Sam and wake up happy in his arms.

He saw you coming out of the room and smiled, eyeing you up and down.

“No clothes?” He asked

“Unless you’re uncomfortable, I think we’re past that” You joked and he shook his head.

“I don’t mind, come here” He said, opening an arm to invite you to lay over his chest and you gladly did, jumping on the bed and wrapping your arms around his torso, laying your head on his firm chest. Sam covered both of you with the white sheets, hiding your exposed body under them. You laid silent for a moment, just drowning in each other's company as you listened to his steady heartbeat.

Sam caressed your upper arm, his mind running with a thousand thoughts in which a thousand and one consisted of you. 

“Hey, want to know something?” Sam asked. He was taking advantage of the situation because now he was confident enough to do so, and he wasn’t delaying this any further if his mind would allow him. You lazily looked up at him, your chin now resting on him. Your eyes stared at him with so much appreciation that he felt even more encouraged to tell you what he wanted to.

“I think I love you” He blurted out. You felt your face warm up and smiled widely, but didn’t lose the opportunity to tease him for his choice of words.

“You think?” You raised an eyebrow. Sam panicked inside.

“No, I mean that–”

“I think I love you too” You interrupted before he could say anything else, your giddy smile never faltering. Sam relaxed and pulled you in for a kiss to seal this promise.

Who would’ve thought that Sam would have his dream come true at the end of everything. Yet, here you were, half-asleep in his arms after you admitted your love for each other.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading. XoXo

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[anglbby444]

pussydrunk!sam winchester x fem!reader

It all started when he pushed you down onto the motel room bed. Kissing started a viscous, but oh so enjoyable, cycle of events. Kissing lead to touching, touching lead to him ripping your clothes off, and that lead to you spread eagle on the bed with your legs on his shoulders. Once he gets a taste, he can never get enough. Sam Winchester gets so pussy drunk whenever he’s going down on you. A soft, but audible moan leaves his lips as he licks a stripe up your slit. Your hands would be playing and twirling his hair around in your fingers, the sound of his name being moaned out by you as he flicks his tongue against your clit. His fluffy locks would be sticking to his face, cheeks flushed and plump as he looks up at you with those puppy dog eyes you know and love. He’d give you a lopsided smile as he places kisses all over your pussy, chucking into your skin as he feels you grip tighter onto his hair. Once again, he feels like he’s being dragged towards your pussy. His eyes would almost roll into the back of his head at how good you taste. “Remind me to never, ever, get up from here. Fuck, you taste so good.”

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[stargazedwinchester]

Womanhood | Dean

Summary: Dean helps to comfort you during your time of the month, without much experience about periods, he tries his best.

This is a little different to the actual request, I hope that’s okay! I’ve tried my best to replicate it though :) Let me know if you want Sam’s/Cas’s version too!

Based off of this request here, thanks!!

Word count: 1,134

Warnings: some swearing, not loads!

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

This morning, you woke up with the most unbearable pain, cramps that felt like your appendix had ruptured. You groan in pain, hoping it would subside soon. You clutch your belly and slowly get out of bed. Your alarm clock flashes 7:39am, and you let your head fall. “I love when I have no sleep,” you mumble to yourself, letting out a huff. Looking behind you, Dean isn’t passed out, snoring so loud it would’ve probably woke you up anyway. You hold your belly and walk out toward the kitchen.

“Morning,” you grumble, and Dean turns around from the stove. His face lit up seeing you at the doorframe, your hair a mess and in one of his spare Star Wars t-shirts and your own pyjama shorts. “Someone’s looking rough.” He jokes, noticing you’re not smiling back. “Aw honey, what’s wrong?” He asks, his smile quickly fading. The smell of breakfast hovers over you, like it’s mocking your morning sickness. “I think I’m coming on my period today…” you say, and Dean turns round to face you, letting the eggs and bacon sizzle quietly on the stove. Toast pings out of the toaster at the same time. “Are you sure you’ll be okay for today’s hunt? If you’re in pain, I’m sure Sammy and I will handle it fine.” He genuinely looks concerned, as if you haven’t had plenty of periods before. It hurt like hell, sure, but you could manage just fine. Along with the fact that periods can make you super emotional and/or angry, you were certain it could come in handy when killing a couple of monsters.

“I’ll be fine Dean, honestly. I want to come with you both.” You smile, leaning over the counter top. Dean nods in agreement. “It’s always fun having you around. If you change your mind just let us know, okay?” He shoots you a quick grin before turning back to the stove, plating up your breakfast. “Where’s Sam?” You question, usually he’s already by the table reading his favourite book or getting ready to go out for his morning jog. “I think he went for a shower, I’m not sure.” Dean spins round and passes you a plate with 2 slices of toast, egg, bacon and hash browns. “Wow, this looks really good, Dean. Thank you.” You smile warmly at him, and he returns the gesture.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

Your rapid breathing causes you to hunch over and rest your hands on your thighs, you take a deep breath. “God damn…” you say, looking up at Sam, who’s right in front of you. “What a kill!” You chuckle to yourself, wiping your hair out of your face. You stand up, giving Sam a high-five. “Good job, Y/N. It’s like you don’t need our help.”

“I know, right? I’m just that go-“ “Y/N! Watch out!” Sam cocks his gun and tries to shove you out of the way, a sudden loud bang shocks you as you feel something sharp pierce your skin abruptly. You fall over, Dean rushing to your side. “I’ll cover you, Dean, make sure she’s okay!” Sam quickly checks back at you, noticing blood is pouring out of our calf.

“Fuck. Y/N, are you okay? Does it hurt?” He panics, shuffling over to apply pressure on your leg. He rummages in his pocket for a handkerchief and immediately applies it to your wound, he rushes to whip his belt off and tie it tight enough around your leg to hopefully stop the bleeding. You can practically see the fear in his eyes, and you laugh quietly.

“What’s so funny, huh? Almost dying?” His hands shake, trying to keep the pressure on your leg at all times.

“I’m not gonna die, Dean. It’s just a gunshot. Stop worrying,”

You place your hand on his, and he gazes at you with so much worry. His gorgeous hunter green eyes comfort you, even though he’s feeling the complete opposite. You pull your hand up to his face and caress his cheek, he finally shows some sign of calming down. It’s like his whole body relaxes by just your touch. “I’ve honestly felt worse.” You joke, slowly moving your body to sit up. You wince, feeling cramp in both of your abdomen and your leg. “Help me get up,” you say, and Dean pulls you up, anchoring you from underneath, your arm draped behind his back. “Let’s get you home.” He says, catching his eye on Sam, making his way back inside.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

It had been a few hours since you arrived back at the bunker, you lay across the sofa, clasping your belly as the cramps still hadn't subsided. Your leg, however, had been patched up neatly by Sam, and were given some painkillers for it. It didn't seem to work that well.

"How're you feeling?" Dean pats your foot, walking past the sofa to perch himself on the very little space left on the armrest. "I feel like I've been shot in two different areas," You try to joke, but it only makes Dean glare at you, waiting for a real answer.

"Could you get me some period pads, or tampons, please? Either work," You state, trying to sit up. "Uh, yeah, I can do that. What... size?" Dean looks puzzled, which only makes you smile. "Regular, Dean. Get the ones with wings."

Dean stands up and gathers his thoughts. "Pads with wings. Tampons with wings. Got it. I think." He places his hands on his hips and looks to the ground, then to you. He smiles lovingly. "I'll be right back." He says, before grabbing his flannel and exiting the door.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

An hour or so had gone by, and you hadn't moved from the sofa. your cramps have worsened to the point of also giving you a headache. You hear the door open, then close. Dean's back from the store, and he's got a white carrier bag full of items. "I'm back," He chuckles, "Got you a few things." He walks up to the sofa, laying the bag on the coffee table next to you. "Oh, Dean, you didn't have to..." You trail, as he takes out chocolate, a small teddy bear with a t-shirt that reads 'Get Well Soon' with a small red heart underneath it. He had also bought you the pads that you had asked for, aspirin, fresh bandages for your leg and a small bunch of red roses.

Your smile gleamed as your eyes met his. "You really didn't have to." Your voice almost a whisper, and he moves closer to you. "I know, but I wanted to." He smiles, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

"Thank you." You say, reaching your hand up to the nape of his neck, pulling him in for one more.

#supernatural #spn #supernatural imagines #spn imagines #dean winchester #dean winchester imagines #sam winchester #sam winchester imagines #supernatural imagine #dean x reader #supernatural dean #deanxreader #dean #dean winchester imagine #sam winchester imagine #sam x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfic #spn x reader #supernatural x reader #spn imagine

[pinkiebieberpie]

i like shiny things, but i'd marry you with paper rings ୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮

supernatural masterlist

#supernatural #sam winchester #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x reader #jared padalecki #sam winchester ff #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester au #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester smut #sam winchester angst #sam winchester spn #sam winchester supernatural #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester blurb #sam winchester drabble #sam supernatural #taylor swift #taylor swift lyrics #taylor swift lover

[jae-sch-writes]

Fruity Confessions

Characters: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester

Word Count: 1,584

Genre: fluffy goodness

Summary: After a hunt, the Reader gets very drunk. What will Sam do?

Warnings: alcohol consumption (like, a lot of it), mention of murder (nothing out of SPN norm), mention of smut (in a book), hinted at smutty thoughts

A/N: What's up Tumblr? It's been a while. Writing is gonna be all over the place because I have a kid now! (crazy, right?) But as a SAHM, I have a lot of free time to write, so here's to (hopefully), getting back into it. Edited by Grammarly, but any and all mistakes are no one's fault but me, myself, and I.

Want to read more? SPN Masterlist Full Masterlist

You were a fruity drink kinda girl. While the boys had their variety of beers, you preferred Smirnoff Ices or a seltzer of some kind. When the situation called for something a little harder, like at the end of every hunt, the Winchesters drank whiskey, and you enjoyed a bottle of wine. 

With each state you’ve gone to, you made sure to find a winery from that state, and if they had a fruity-flavored bottle, you were definitely getting at least one. This time- Wisconsin.

A hunt had brought you to Green Bay: at Lambeau Field to be specific. Home field Packers’ games were canceled after eight different fans of the Detroit Lions were found dead after their game. It didn’t take long to find out it was a ghost, however, finding out who the ghost was was a different story. After lots of research, Sam had determined it was Bart Starr, the Packers’ quarterback during their first Super Bowl win.

“The dude’s buried in Alabama, so how the hell did he make it here beyond the grave?” Dean asked.

“One of Starr’s jerseys is at the Field. That’s definitely what he’s being tethered to, but it’s gonna be difficult getting it out of its case. Lambeau has all of their memorabilia in cases with alarms,” you said, not looking up from your book. After some moments of silence, you looked up to see Sam and Dean looking at you like you had three heads. “What? I know things.”

“Yeah, but about football?” Dean was shocked. “Not even the game itself, but the fact you just happened to know one of these random player’s jerseys was in their museum? It’s weird.”

“Dean, leave her be, she literally just told us what we’ve gotta burn.” Sam was impressed. While he had never been interested in sports, he was pleasantly surprised by your knowledge, however niche of a topic it may be. “But, I gotta know,” Sam turned to you, “how did you know that?”

“I’ve been to a game or two at Lambeau Field. My dad was a Packers fan.”

You happened to be the one to go to the jersey to burn it while the boys were your backup. The faded green jersey with the number 15 on it was lit up in its display case. You all knew it had to be in and out. Break the case, burn the jersey, and get the hell out.

The sound of shattering glass came with the sound of an alarm, alerting the guard at the entrance to the museum portion of the stadium. Bart Starr was throwing around Sam and Dean like they were footballs.

You had just barely been able to get a match onto the jersey before security was able to see you. Luckily, the small flame was enough to distract him and made him run in the opposite direction to get a fire extinguisher.

The next morning, as Sam and Dean were packing up, you drove to a state business called Festival Foods. There, you found their selection of state-made wines. You opted for a couple of labels all made of cranberries. If you were grabbing wines made in Wisconsin, you might as well grab ones made with one of the state’s bigger industries.

You spent the twelve hours from Green Bay back to Lebanon in almost complete silence. You and Sam reading your books, and Dean humming along to whatever song was playing on the radio.

The minute you got home, you grabbed the cooler and went to the kitchen. Your only thoughts were on the wine you had got and how you needed to try it.

“Y/N, you didn’t even grab your-” Sam’s sentence was interrupted by seeing you grabbing a wine glass from the cupboard. “I’ll go put your bag in your room.” Sam knew better than to get between you and your wine. The last time he tried that, he ended up on the floor from trying to cut you off for the night. Your love for wine and need for a drink after a hunt had given you the drunken power to somehow take him down, despite the size difference between you and him. 

Sam retreated from the kitchen to his bedroom. You took your bottle, glass, and book to the library and settled yourself into the loveseat you had picked for nights like these. 

About 3/4ths of the bottle in, you had abandoned the thought of a wine glass and just started drinking straight from the bottle. Your mind was wandering from the fantasy-romance you were reading and to thoughts of Sam. When you reached a smutty part of the story, you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be with Sam in that way.

You were now a bottle down, and made your way back to the kitchen to open up another one. It really didn't take long for you to finish the second bottle. You were stumbling to the kitchen, with the intent to grab your third bottle, when you were stopped by the table in the library, not at it, by it. You had walked right into it, almost like you forgot the large oak table was there. 

Getting to the kitchen truly was difficult for you, your drunken version of a marathon. Sam heard all of the commotion going on and took a guess on where you were heading. Usually he would leave you be, but being able to hear you walk into things, he decided to risk you being mad at him. 

He stood in the doorway, blocking the entrance to the kitchen, and let you walk right into him. It took him everything to keep him from laughing at your face when you were met with the wall of muscle. 

“Sammy, whaddya doin’ here?” Your words were slurred, but not incoherent.

“Preventing alcohol poisoning,” Sam grabbed your hand and guided you down the hall. “Come on, let's get you to bed.”

“Can I sleep in yours?” Your drunken state left you with no filter. The words just came out of your mouth. 

“Ya know, given you walked right into me like I was invisible, that might actually be a good idea.”

Sam’s response invoked a giggle from you, and he couldn't help but smile. Even though you were stumbling down the halls of the Bunker, bumping into Sam every couple of steps, he thought you were adorable. You were usually pretty reserved and in control, but like this, you’re care-free, not calculating your every move. 

It took almost twice as long to get to Sam’s room as usual with how many times you bumped into him or tripped over your own feet resulting in him having to catch you. Sam told himself after the fourth time if you fell one more time, he was just going to pick you up and carry you the rest of the way. Much to his dismay, that did not happen. He would have loved to know your reaction in the morning if you remembered him doing that. 

When you finally reached Sam’s room, the first thing you did was flop on the bed, or attempt to anyway. Thankfully, you fell just short of landing all the way on so your head never hit the floor. Sam chuckled and helped you up. Before laying back down, you took off your shirt, leaving you in just your bra and sweatpants. 

This wasn't the first time Sam had seen you without a shirt, or the first time the two of you shared a bed, but this time was different. This time you were drunk and didn't really know what you were doing. In your drunken state, you were just getting ready for bed, for Sam, he couldn't help but think that you thought of him as someone safe. Why else would you have asked if you could stay with him tonight?

Sam got you comfy on the bed, all the while you were giggling up a storm. Sam looked at you and smiled. “What? What's so funny, Y/N/N?”

“Nothin’. I just think you're cute. And tall,” you looked at Sam with big eyes and a goofy grin. “Oh my gosh you're so tall.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Sam chuckled. “Let's just get you to sleep, alright?”

You nodded as he helped you make sure you didn't smack your head against his bed frame. Sam grabbed the small trash can sitting at his desk and brought it to your side of the bed. You usually held your liquor really well, but given your state, he didn't want to take any chances. 

“Sammy?” you say quietly.

“Yeah?”

“I love you,” your voice got serious. Sam knew you'd be falling asleep soon, you always stopped being goofy towards the end of the night. 

“I mean it. I really do,” Sam knew you weren't just saying that because you were drunk. If you were talking, your filter may be going, but you mean every word that comes out of your mouth. 

“I know you do,” Sam smiled softly before crawling into his bed behind you and pulling his blanket over the two of you. He let his arm fall over your side and rubbed his thumb in small circles over your stomach. He hated not knowing if you were going to remember this in the morning. 

He waited to hear your breathing become slow and steady before whispering, “I love you, too, Y/N/N.”

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@train-wrecc

add yourself HERE

#fanfiction #fanfic #one shot #imagine #oneshot #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester oneshot #sam x reader #sam winchester #spn #supernatural fluff #spn fluff

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Find Your Way Back Home: Part Five

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: smut, made to feel worthless, being told you're only good for fucking and nothing else, feeling guilty for sleeping with someone else, angst

Summary: Dean left. He left to be with some other woman while you were left behind to pick up the pieces after Sam fell into the cage. Now he's back, you're not sure how he is, but he's... different. More ruthless... sexier, even. You two start your own friends-with-benefits thing until Dean comes back into your life, and all those emotions you've been repressing come shining through.

Author’s Note: This is the fifth part of six parts of the commission for @winchester-sinchester. Dean is thirty-one, the reader is twenty-three, and Sam is twenty-seven.

x

You pull your hair into a tight ponytail while staring at yourself in the mirror. You hate to say that you’re starting to not recognize the person staring back at you. She didn't ask to be this way. She got life thrust into the palm of her hands and was told to deal with it. When you first got into hunting, you didn't think you’d end up here.

Focus, Y/N. Don’t think about that. Get ready.

Whenever you go on hunts, you put your hair into a ponytail to keep it out of the way. People have told you to cut it since it’s so long but you like your hair too much to do that to it. You grab two knives off your vanity and slip them into their holsters when you feel hands on your shoulder. You close your eyes when they start to roam down your body around your curves.

If you close your eyes, you can still pretend it’s him.

He turns you in his arms and presses his lips against yours. It still feels wrong kissing him even after so much time has passed since him. Before he can distract you, you pull away from him and open your eyes. Sam stands in front of you, and no matter how hard you picture Dean, it’s always going to be Sam now.

Dean left you for the last time. He left you right after Sam fell into the cage to be with her. Lisa. Lisa fucking Braeden. In the beginning, you were hurt and confused as to why he would choose her over you. Why would he choose a woman he hasn’t seen or spoken to in eight years over the woman he’s been with since he was eighteen?

It broke your heart to see him with her, to see him be happy with her, but you told yourself this is what he chose. If that wasn’t a sign from the universe telling you to move on, you don’t know what was. He was able to so why shouldn’t you? It was a shock to find Sam roaming about after he fell into the cage, but he claims he doesn’t know how he got out. All he knows is that he fell into the cage and he woke up on solid ground.

He’s been different since came back, more ruthless, more impulsive, but you figured spending time with two archangels would do that to a person. You choose not to think too much about it because then you’re forced to think about you and Sam together which forces you to think about Dean and the decision he made without you.

“You look so good right now,” Sam whispers. He leans down and kisses your neck not-so-gently while nipping at the skin. “I could just eat you for hours.”

“We need to go on the hunt,” you sigh and tip your head back.

“I can be quick.”

Before Sam can sink to his knees, the door to the bedroom opens. You pull away from him to see Samuel Campbell, the Winchester’s grandfather, standing there with a scowl on his face.

“What’s taking so long? We need to go.”

“Yeah, we’re coming.”

You push Sam away from you and grab your gun off the vanity. Hunting had become routine since shacking up with Sam, so this is light work. You’re seriously impressed with how far you’ve come. You’re not the same scared little ten-year-old Sam and Dean met.

Hunting with Sam is a whole experience in and of itself. As you’ve mentioned before, he’s ruthless and doesn’t care who gets in his way. He will fuck up whoever he needs to fuck up without regard to who is getting in his way.

“Y/N, take Sam with you to the back end of the house. We’ll take the front. Remember, this guy is an alpha. It’ll take more than just silver to take it down,” Samuel warns.

“Got it. Shoot it with silver bullets a ton.” You turn to Sam who is already moving to the back of the house. “Sam!” You roll your eyes and quickly catch up to him. “You can’t go off on your own.”

“You’re not my keeper, Y/N. I’m just here to do the damn job.”

Damn, Hell must have really fucked him up. What happened to the young man who took everything personally and wore his heart on his sleeve? What’s in front of you now is a shell of the man you once knew. Doubt and uncertainty creep in the back of your mind but you push it down because if you confront it, you’ll have to look into why Sam is so different. That might mean drama for you. That might mean bringing Dean back into your life, and you can’t do that to yourself.

Sam takes the lead, as always, and completes the hunt in record time. He is fearless and doesn’t let the alpha’s pets stand in his way. He was gonna kill the alpha if it weren’t for Samuel asking to keep it. He claims he wants to interrogate the creature before killing it, and Sam doesn’t care enough to ask questions.

He didn’t bat an eye when Samuel took the creature away.

Sam builds up so much energy during hunts that he usually works out to get rid of it, but this time he decides to take you back to his bedroom. Since coming back, he’s never been gentle with you. All he wants is a rough fuck, and you’re delusional enough to give it to him. If you told him to stop, he would, but he feels too damn good to actually stop.

There is no prep time with him, other than checking to see if you’re dripping for him, which you are. Dean has been rough with you every once in a while which is one of your kinks. Sam must have figured it out because he loves manhandling the women he fucks.

He flips you on all fours and grabs your hips to pull your ass into the air. Underwear is no obstacle for him because he grabs the sides of the flimsy fabric and rips it into two.

“Shit, Sam. That was my favorite pair.”

“I’ll buy you more.”

He won’t. He pulls his cock out of his pants and runs the tip up and down your slit. Dean was the only one you’ve ever been bare with before Sam. It feels weird to have another man’s cock inside you when you’re still so in love with Dean. It’s a damn good thing you’re still on the pill because you’d never forgive yourself if you got pregnant with Sam’s child.

After coating his cock with your wetness, he slides into your pussy easily. He sets a hard and fast pace from the get-go, and you arch your back with your mouth in an O shape. He grabs your hair to keep your back arched as he pounds into you.

“Fuck! Sam!” you gasp.

With his free hand, he slaps your ass twice to watch it bounce. Not that he needs any help because his hips are doing a good job of it.

“Next time, I’m fucking this ass,” he grunts out.

You hate how easily he can bring you to the brim. It’s like he’s not even trying when it comes to you. He doesn’t stop after the first orgasm, no. He brings you over the edge four more times before coming himself. He’s a force to be reckoned with, that’s for sure.

Dean is still on your mind but you’ve fucked Sam so much that he’s pushed all the way to the back. That’s what hunting with Sam for months on end will do to you. Dean is still living in his bubble of happiness while you try to pick up the pieces he left behind.

After months of hunting alphas and bringing them to Samuel, you finally get a break. He’s hunting the vampire alpha which is going to take time since he’s very crafty. He got word that alphas were dying so he took extra precautions to hide away. Still, that doesn’t stop Samuel from going after him.

“Hey, Sam. You got a second?” you ask.

He’s in his room working out. He’s using the rafters to do pull-ups, exposing his tanned skin and hardened abs.

“What’s up?”

“There’s a carnival in town that has laser tag. I can get tickets if you want to go with me.”

“Pass,” he grunts out and drops to the ground.

“Come on. It could be fun.”

Sam walks toward you with a smirk on his face that makes you stop talking. He towers over you and uses that intimidation to his advantage.

“Let me be perfectly clear. You’re nothing but a good fuck and that’s it. I don’t want to go on dates with you or ask you how your day is. I’ll come to you when I want you wrapped around my cock. Okay?”

He leaves the room to take a shower while you’re left in his room with a broken heart and a lump in your throat. Tears threaten to fall but you won’t let them. Dean was and is a lot of things, but he’d never treat you this way. Instead of crying like a baby about this, you push down your feelings and pick yourself up like you’ve always done.

The months slowly drag on with you doing the same thing over and over again each and every day. Go on hunts with Sam and Samuel, kill everyone but alphas, go home and fuck Sam, feel bad afterward because of it, go to sleep, and do it all over again. Before you know it, a year has passed and you’re nowhere closer to feeling like how you used to feel.

Dean is still gone and your heart is still aching. Someone with a higher power in the universe must be listening to your pain because it brought Dean to you in a way that isn’t so surprising. He tried to get out of the life but was always listening to radios, reading newspapers, and trying to hook up with hunters to see what was going on. He didn’t want to put Ben and Lisa in danger so he never brought his work home with him until he got attacked by a group of Djinn.

The reunion you’ve been hoping for didn’t go quite according to plan. Dean wasn’t so happy to find out that his brother had been alive for a year.

“You’re kidding me, right? Tell me you’re actually joking,” Dean glares at you and Sam.

“No,” Sam shakes his head.

“We didn’t want to pull you back in. You were out.”

“Pul--All I did was try to look for a way to bring you back. You’re telling me you’ve been kicking for a year now?!”

“You promised you’d leave the cage alone.”

“Fuck that. I didn’t go poking it but that didn’t stop me from trying to figure out how the hell to get my brother back. You’ve been with him this whole time?” Dean asks you.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to destroy your perfect life with Lisa.”

“Come on, don’t do that,” he sighs.

You’re already walking away from him. All the feelings you’ve suppressed for the past year come rushing out and you have to walk away before you do something you regret. Your heart aches for Dean despite the amount of time that has passed since you’ve seen him.

Once the Djinn were taken care of, Dean wanted to stay with you and Sam to continue hunting. He didn’t want to leave Lisa and Ben to fend for themselves so he spent most of his time with you only to return to them on some weekends.

Being with Sam was great when you knew Dean wasn’t going to be a problem but he’s been trying to get back into hunting so he’s around all the time. How can you continue being with Sam when you know he’s not the one you really want? He was a good distraction for what it’s worth but he’s not enough anymore.

Sam doesn’t feel the shift in your energy otherwise he’d go find someone else to fuck. All he sees you is a good lay, and there are plenty of women willing to give themselves up for one night with him. You tried hard to be into it but it’s just not happening. Dean should be back any second from Lisa’s with a packed bag and you don’t want him catching you with his brother.

The same person who brought you and Dean together after all this time must want to start drama because he walks into Samuel’s house expecting to go to bed. Instead, he finds you and Sam on the couch with you in his lap and Sam’s lips on your neck.

“Shit, Dean,” you gasp and move off Sam’s lap so fast.

It doesn’t matter how quick you are because Dean knew what was going to happen if he hadn’t walked in.

“What the hell is going on here? You’re fucking my brother?” Dean asks.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Not anymore,” Sam shrugs.

“Shut up before I smother you with a pillow while you sleep,” you hiss.

“I don’t sleep.”

“Yeah, lucky you.”

“Y/N?” You look into Dean’s eyes and see the raw emotion in them. That causes tears to form in yours but you don’t let them fall. “Have you been sleeping with Sam this whole time?”

“Dude, you left her, like a thousand times. Fair game,” Sam smirks.

You and Dean still have your staring contest because you can’t seem to say anything that would make this better, and he can’t either. Guilt starts to weigh on your shoulders even though you did nothing to be guilty of. He left you. He moved on from you. So, why the hell do you feel like shit?

x

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#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester angst #sam winchester smut #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural angst #supernatural smut #spn #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn smut #spn angst

[superlunar-eclipse]

🌑 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━ ACROSS THE COUNTRY

SUMMARY ➤ Dean and Sam, concerned about their missing father, approach their estranged elder sister Y/N, an FBI agent, for help. Despite initial resistance due to past grievances and her current job, Y/N eventually agrees to join them in their search, setting the stage for a journey filled with potential challenges and dangers.

WARNINGS ➤ injury’s, injured Y/N, stabbed wound (to the shoulder), small shard of glass on Y/N’s face and the back of their head, and slight arguing.

CHARACTERS ➤ Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Y/N Winchester, mentions of John Winchester, and Adam William (added character)

WORD COUNT ➤ 1,180 words

OTHER ➤ Y/N is a FBI agent, small mention of Y/N being 32 years old, set in season 1, episode 1.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ➤ first fanfic! hopefully dean and sam don’t act too OOC, but lmk if they do!

"Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam took a deep breath before responding, "So, he's working one of his usual overtime shifts on a 'Miller Time'. It's nothing to worry about. He's bound to stumble back in sooner or later."

Dean glanced down at the cold, hard ground, allowing his eyes to linger there for a moment before looking back up at Sam. His voice was full of concern as he said, "Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days."

Sam’s expression remained stoic, giving away nothing of the worry that was slowly starting to creep in. Jess, who had been quietly observing the exchange, glanced up at him.

"Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."

"I mean, come on. You can't just break into my place in the middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you," Sam said, his voice echoing in the silence of the night as he followed Dean down the stairs.

"You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I'm not just asking you to hit the road with me. I need you to help me find him." He looked back at Sam, his eyes pleading for understanding.

"I- I don’t understand, why couldn’t you have called Y/N? Isn’t she an FBI agent or something like that?" Sam questioned, his hand reaching out to grab Dean’s shoulder in an attempt to halt his progress.

Dean sighed loudly, a sound that echoed throughout the quiet night. He bounced on the balls of his feet, a nervous habit he had whenever he was troubled. "Well I… kinda don’t know where she is…" he admitted shamefully.

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, a clear sign of his confusion. "What do you mean you ‘don’t know where she is’?"

Dean pursed his lips and rubbed his hands together, his gaze dropping to the ground. "Well I don’t know her exact location but I know she’s somewhere in Washington DC or something like that!"

Sam scoffed in disbelief and shook his head. "That’s all the way across the country."

"Well did you want this to go quicker?" Dean shot back defensively.

Sam simply rolled his eyes at Dean.

"Look, are you coming with me or not?" Dean asked, his patience clearly running thin.

"I’m not." Sam said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Why not?" Dean questioned, his frustration clear.

"I swore I was done hunting. For good."

"Come on. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t all bad."

Dean starts heading down the stairs once again, with Sam quickly on his trail.

"You know, in almost three years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing," Dean tried to reason, his voice softening.

Sam looks away and sighs, then looks back.

"All right. I'll go. I'll help you find the both of them."

Y/N, a 32 year old FBI agent, sat in the back of the ambulance as the woman cleaned up her many cuts. Her shoulder had been stabbed by the unsub and her head was smashed into a sheet of glass.

"Alright, you're done." The woman finished cleaning her cuts, placing a bandage on her forehead and applying gauze tape to her wound.

Y/N smiled at the woman and hopped off the ambulance truck.

"Y/N!" someone shouted from the distance. She turned to see her great friend Adam, who was the first one to welcome her to the FBI.

She smiled softly as he gave her a comforting hug, "Ow, my shoulder." Her nose scrunched up in pain.

"Sorry," the corners of his mouth turned up as he let go of her.

Other agents of the FBI walked up to her, thanking her for her bravery. "Thank you for saving that girl's life."

"No problem." She gave them a comforting smile.

The agents walked away to discuss matters with other departments.

Y/N and Adam talked about the case for a little while, before Adam turned his attention to something behind her.

"Hey, do you know those people over there?" He asked.

She turned around to look at the people Adam was pointing at. She tilted her head to the side, squinting slightly as she tried to recognize them.

Why did they look so familiar?

Her face paled when she realized who they were.

"Uhm, yea- yeah I do, I’ll be right back," she stuttered, patting his shoulder reassuringly before she walked away.

"What are you guys doing here and how in the hell did you guys find me?" Y/N whispered-yelled at the two boys, her eyes wide with surprise.

"We need your help," Dean replied simply.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and put her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, "Oh, so all of a sudden you both need me after what, three years of not talking to me?"

Dean, with a dramatic flair that was all too typical of him, let out an exaggerated sigh. "Listen-" he began, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.

But she cut him off, her frustration palpable. "Dean, please, I really don’t have time for this," she said, waving a hand dismissively.

Sam, practically silent until now, took a step forward. His eyes critically scanned over her face and body, noting the signs of recent distress. "What happened to your shoulder?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

In response, she lifted a brow and shot him a sarcastic look. "Take a guess, Sam. I’m in the FBI," she said dryly.

He rolled his eyes at her retort. Typical Y/N, he thought, not for the first time.

Dean, who had been silent during their exchange, finally spoke. "Dad’s been missing for a few days, and we… we need you," he stated, his eyes narrowed and serious.

Her reaction was almost immediate. Her jaw tightened, her eyes darkened, her whole demeanor turned defensive. "And why would I want to find him?" she shot back, her voice icy.

He faltered, at a loss for words. He turned away, his gaze landing aimlessly on the nearby crime site.

Now it was Sam’s turn to speak up. He stepped forward, his eyes pleading. "Y/N, please, we really need you right now," he implored, giving her a puppy-dog look. It was a tactic he used to use all the time when he was younger to get what he wanted.

She looked away from him, her lips pursed, her face screwed up in thought. After a long pause, she finally voiced her question. "How- how long is this going to take?"

Dean was the one to answer. "Four days."

She sighed out loud, a wearied sound that echoed in the silence. "You do realize I have a real job, right?" she asked, a note of exasperation in her voice.

Dean rolled his eyes, a retort already forming on his lips. But before he could speak, Y/N interrupted him.

"Fine, I’ll go with you two," she said, her voice resigned.

Dean smiled lightly, relief flooding his features. "Thank you, Y/N."

And so, they walked together to Dean's car, unaware of the challenges and dangers that lay ahead of them.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x platonic reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x older sister reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x older sister reader #winchester!reader #Y/N winchester #dean winchester fanfic #sam winchester fanfic

[deanswhiskey]

𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐞 - 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

summary; while stuck at home, you find some christmas decorations in a storage closet

wc; 1935

warnings; kissing, tooth-rotting christmas themed fluff, that’s really it

authors note; merry christmas and happy holidays!!

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

christmas had always been your favorite holiday growing up. you hadn’t spent much time celebrating since you started hunting. your parents were hunters but they sent you to your uncle bobby’s whenever they’d hunt. you didn’t know what was happening, just excited to see your uncle.

when you started hunting, looking for whoever, or whatever, killed your parents, you didn’t get to celebrate much anymore. the days mushed together half the time.

after you met sam and dean, and eventually joined them, you tried to bring as much of the holidays as you could, seeing as they didn’t get to much.

you find little plastic decorations at the shitty gas stations you’d stop at in different cities and states. hanging christmas scented air fresheners from the mirror in deans car, even when he’d get annoyed, he couldn't say anything because he knew how much you loved it. you’d always buy funny little headbands for sam and dean to wear too, just so you could snap pictures of them on your camera.

it was midday in december when the boys were leaning up against baby while you were inside the gas station. “geez, what’s takin’ her so friggin long?” dean asked while checking his watch. he’d finished pumping gasoline what felt like a half hour ago.

you walked out of the gas station with a slightly full grocery bag and a huge smile on your face. they knew that smile. that ‘i-just-got-something-you-won’t-like-smile’.

you walked up to the boys and before you could even say anything, dean interrupted, “what did you get this time?”

you fake acted offended, “how dare you, dean!” you then giggled and pulled out two silly christmas headbands. one was reindeer antlers one had to little santa hats on springs that moved around.

they both gave you a look. they didn’t want to wear them but they were anyways. you ripped the little bit of packaging tbh eh had and held them out, silently telling them to pick one.

sam grabbed the one with the reindeer antlers and set them on his head. you continued to hold out the santa hat one. dean rolled his eyes and put them on. “don’t give me that, dean, you love it.” you chuckled at the dancing santa hats on his head.

you reached down into the backseat through the window to grab your camera out of your bag. “smile!” you said turning on your camera. and they did, they smiled for you. you snapped the picture of your two boys looking adorable in their christmas headbands.

when the three of you found the bunker, there were rooms upon rooms upon rooms to discover.

during a hunt, you got badly injured. one of the vamps had harshly shoved you and you fell down some old stairs, leading you to breaking your foot.

now the boys stopped hunting for a little less than a month so they could tend to you, even against your wishes not to.

sam spent most of the time right next to you; he didn’t want you out of his sight. he acted as if you were sick and could hardly stand.

“i’m not terminally ill, sam,” you said with a giggle as he picked you up to move you from the kitchen to the couch in the living room.

“i know, my love, i’m just being cautious,” he said stopping and giving your forehead a kiss.

once the doctor released you of your crutches, leaving you with just a boot, the boys finally went back to hunting. sam, reluctantly, agreed, with the exception that he’d call you multiple times to make sure you’re okay.

one of the days the boys were away, you decided to go through some of the storage closets you three had yet to go through.

you limped down the halls making your way to one of many. the room was lined with various boxes and cabinets that had a thin coat of dust.

you opened the first box which had nothing but spare bedding. thankful it was the first box you opened; definitely setting that aside to take out and put them in a closer storage closet.

the next box had old clothes, along with the next few boxes.

the next box you picked up and dusted off made a noise; a jingle sort of noise. you took your box cutter and quickly opened the box.

to your surprise, it was christmas decorations. the men of letters must’ve loved christmas. you couldn't find a tree in sight, nor any ornaments. that was okay, there were plenty of other decorations to do the trick.

you looked over at the pile the box was in to see if there were any more. you only found one more box which was full of string lights. you carried the boxes, one at a time, to the living room to start setting up what decorations you had.

your phone was set out on a table with a speaker connected to it and you had christmas music blaring through the bunker. you wanted to start with the lights. so that’s what you did. you grabbed the step ladder from a closet, the bag of push pins, and many extension cords and went to work. you wrapped the main staircase railing and many door frames and miscellaneous pieces of furniture with the yellow christmas lights.

next up was this little christmas village you found. there was a perfect table in the library for this. you grabbed the empty light box and put all the different pieces into it and carried that to the library. you meticulously placed each little building and extra pieces just the way you wanted.

the last of the decorations went up and there was only one left. the mistletoe. where could i put it, you thought to yourself.

it had to be somewhere where everyone could see but not in a doorway where everyone stands often. you decided to put it on the doorway to the living room. it was a simple and easy place to put it.

you grabbed a thumb tack and hung it up there, careful not to fall off the ladder with your boot. if sam knew that you were climbing on a ladder with a boot on your foot, he’d throw a fit, demand you sit on the couch and he do all the work.

not long after you hung the mistletoe, you made yourself some hot chocolate and cozied on up on the couch with the book you were currently reading. the christmas music was still playing but it was soft now.

sam had texted you he’d be home soon about 15 minutes ago and now you were just anticipating their arrival. you were so excited to show the boys the new and improved, and festive, bunker.

your ears perked up as you heard the best bunker door begin to open. you all but threw your blanket off of you and placed your book open face down and rushed to the door.

“holy shit,” you heard dean say in the distance. you fretted the boys as they were walking down the stairs. their eyes lit up and they scanned the room and beyond of the decorations.

“what’s all this, sweetheart?” sam said leaning to give you a kiss, half still distracted at all the decor.

“i was going through some closets and found a whole bunch of christmas decorations!” you beamed.

dean set his duffel bag on the table in the war room and went to go look around in the library and further.

sam set his duffel done too but stayed with you. you were admiring the joy on his face; you could tell he needed some holiday joy, especially since he never really got to have this.

“this is,” sam paused, speechless. he didn’t know how to describe this. “amazing. i can't believe you did all of this.” he smile wide as he looked at you.

you smiled back, impossibly harder since your smile was already big. sam interrupted you before you could get a word out. “wait,” you brows furrowed slightly. “did you climb up on a ladder to hang this stuff?” he questioned.

you simply nodded. you knew he was gonna be upset, he won’t be too upset with you, just concerned. “y/n, you could’ve hurt yourself further.”

“sam, baby, i’m okay. i promise i was extra extra careful. just for you.” you grabbed his hands, rubbing the back of them with your thumb to reassure him.

he just looked at you with worry in his eyes. “i’m okay, baby. why don’t you go take a shower,” you lean up closer to his face. “then meet me under the mistletoe.” you gave him a sweet kiss before patting his butt, the two of you giggling.

a little while later, you sat in the living room waiting for the love of your life. christmas music still softly filled the living room while you sipped on the last of your hot chocolate.

sam walked in, his sweatpants hanging low and his navy blue v-neck hugged him perfectly. his hair still wet but not dripping. he looked beautiful. he stood under the mistletoe and leaned against the door frame.

you looked up at him and smiled with adoration. you made your way over to your beautiful boyfriend.

standing in front of his tall frame you look up at him, “can we dance?” you ask.

“of course, my love.” he says contently taking your right hand in his left. his right went around your waist. your left rested on his chest.

the two of you just gazed into each others eyes while you rocked back and forth. elvis’ ‘blue christmas’ played softly in the background. it was one of your and sams favorite christmas songs.

occasionally, sam would spin you just to hear those melodic, beautiful giggles.

your head now resting on his chest; hearing his heartbeat was so relaxing to you.

“hey,” you look up at him. “we’re still under the mistletoe, you know.” sam smiled.

you look up and the mistletoe you hung up earlier, “huh, i guess so.”

the two of you kept your gaze before sam slowly dipped his head down. the two of you fit perfectly like a puzzle piece.

his lips soft against your as they moved in sync with yours. sams hands found theirs way to your thighs, lifting you up while your hands made their way around his neck, tangling in his hair; his lips never left yours.

sam blindly made his way to the couch, sitting down with you straddling him. the kiss didn’t last much longer. you pulled away and laid back against his chest, cuddling into him.

sam was the first to speak up, “this place looks amazing, baby, i’m proud of you.”

“thank you, sam.” you gave him a kiss on the cheek, laying back down against him.

the cinnamon candle you lit earlier was still burning and the christmas music still played as the two of you fell asleep on the couch.

the next morning, dean made his way to the kitchen and brewed himself a fresh cup of coffee. the coffee finished breeding and he added whatever he did necessary for the perfect cup. he took that cup and walked to the living room, unsuspecting of the two of you sleeping there.

he approached the living room and saw the two of you, you were in almost the exact same position as when you fell asleep. dean chuckled to himself, “those kids.” he said before sipping his coffee and walking back to the kitchen.

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

#spn #supernatural #sam winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfic #supernatural fluff #supernatural fic

[welldonebeca]

Housewife Halloween (III)

Summary: Sam hates Halloween. When he catches his girlfriend dressed up and playing as his wife, he realises the day might not be so bad, after all. Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female!Reader WC: 1.3k words Warnings: Stanford times. Fluff. Wife kink. Roleplay. Dirty talking. Orgasm control. Anal sex. Clothed sex. Degrading kink. Multiple orgasms. Unprotected sex. Aftercare.

Masterlist

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Sam pushed you to your feet, tossing you over the side of the couch and raising your skirt, licking his lips as he watched your pussy leaking under your plugged ass.

Fuck, he loved your ass.

He loved fucking it, slapping it, fucking biting it and watching it.

His eyes lingered on it for a moment, tempted into eating your ass out for the next hour, but his cock was throbbing, and you had stretched yourself for him as a good wife. He should honour that.

"Do you want to take the dress off?" you asked him, throwing him a look over your shoulder.

"Take it off?" he repeated, tapping the plug with the tip of his finger before slowly pulling on it and pushing back, earning a soft whine from you. "And waste all of the effort you put on dressing up so pretty for me?"

Finally, Sam pulled the plug all the way out, moaning to himself when he watched your asshole throbbing and squeezing around nothing.

"I would never do that," he grabbed his cock, and pushed into you, licking his lips and smirking when he saw your hands clenching on the seat in front of you, already moaning softly.

Fuck, you were so tight there. Even when with all the lube and your pussy's slick around his cock, it was still a tight fit.

"Fuck, wife," he grunted. "Your ass looks so pretty swallowing my cock, you need to see this."

You moaned, and his eyes moved to the side table, finding your phone right there.

Well, maybe you could see it.

Sam pulled it back and unlocked it, quickly getting on the camera and pointing at where his cock was pushing into your ass.

He continued to click and click, photographing everything until he was balls deep in your ass, taking slow breaths to control himself.

Fuck, he never imagined fucking your ass would be so good.

The two of you never really did it before now. Sure, Sam had fingered your ass a few times and talked about fucking you there, but it was a surprise that you had taken such a big step forward to get him to fuck you.

You moaned arching your ass up to him, whispering something he couldn't quite hear, and he grabbed you, thumbs digging into your round globes before he pulled his hips away, slowly fucking out and into you.

"Fuck, baby," he moaned.

"Sam," you whimpered. "Sam."

His balls hit your folds, and Sam licked his lips, feeling how wet you were just by that.

You continued to whimper and moan his name, lost, as if you didn't know any other word.

"Look at you, baby," he thrust into you harder. "Can't think of anything but me..."

He took his fingers to your cunt, teasing your entrance, and you moaned louder and darker.

"I fucking love it when I fuck you stupid," he pushed a single finger into your pussy, just teasing you, knowing this was just going to entice you. "Got your smart little brain dripping down your cunt, just like it should."

Your walls squeezed around his finger and his cock, sensitive and ready for him.

"Cause that's what my perfect wife has to be like, isn't it?" he cooed. "A set of holes for me to fuck and cum into...  a pretty pussy for me to breed over and over again."

Sam took his finger away from inside you and slapped your clit with his wet hand, and thrust deep inside your hole, closing your eyes when it squeezed his cock and your moans became louder and into a little scream, and your whole body shook and convulsed under him, and you came, sobbing his name so loudly it made him wonder if the neighbours and people roaming outside in the street would hear you.

"Fuck," he groaned. "Such a good hole for me, cumming as I fuck your ass."

You just cried more, and he licked his lips, ready to test a theory.

How long had you been preparing for him? How long had you played with your ass and saved that orgasm for him?

So he slapped your clit again.

Your ass squeezed around his cock once more, squeezing him as your pussy gushed against his balls.

Fuck, he knew he could make you cum again just by slapping your clit. He knew you would make such pretty noises and would be such a little dumb crying little thing, cumming over and over again with just his hands, screaming his name, so loud everyone in Stanford would know he was the one to make you feel like that.

"Sam," you whined softly.

He would do it some day. But not now.

"Please," you cried out. "Please, cum inside, please, please."

Sam moaned deeper. Fuck, your ass was squeezing him so good.

"Please, husband," you panted. “Cum in my ass.”

His eyes closed at the name, and he did, cumming hard inside you as you moaned and panted, calling him your husband, over and over and over again.

Sam pulled you up and closer to him, turning your head and kissing your lips before taking his free hand down, playing with your clit to make you cum, not yet satisfied as his cock shot inside you.

"Sam," you whimpered into his lips.

"Husband," he grunted, moving tight circles around your bud. "I'm your husband."

You cried out, sounding more desperate.

"Cum for your husband," Sam pulled away from your mouth, hissing into your ear.

Your voice grew louder, breathless, and his fingers didn't stop until you were screaming and squirming, wigging in his arms, lost in pleasure.

He let you fall forward, lying back in the couch again, before pulling out of you, kneeling in front of you and spreading your ass cheeks.

Sam watched as his cum leaked from inside you, feeling something big and dark growing inside him, possessive of what he was seeing.

His lips moved to your pussy right after, licking and paying with your pussy before sucking on your swollen and sensitive clit.

"Sam!" you screamed.

He grabbed your hips before you could move away, devouring your pussy.

"Sam!" you sobbed, moving above him. "Please! It's too much!"

He moved himself away from your clit for a brief moment.

"You'll take what your husband gives you, wife," Sam grunted, moving right back to eat you out.

You screamed and shook, but he didn't stop, sucking and licking, knowing well what would make you cum.

The moment he shoved two fingers into your cunt, curling them against your g-spot, your body tensed completely and your pussy gushed against his face, squirting as you came for him again, weakly crying out his name.

He finally stopped, kissing your thigh before standing up and gently pulling you along with him, sitting on your lap as you whimpered, still quivering over him.

Sam moved his fingers through your hair, placing a soft kiss on your makeup stained cheek.

He held you silently, continuing to caress your hair and face, comforting you.

"You were so good," he kissed your temple. "I'm so proud of you."

You held his neck a little tighter, and Sam lifted you up, carrying you to your bedroom and caressing your thighs comfortingly.

"Do you need anything?" he asked.

"Want your shirt," you mumbled. "Don't want this dress."

Sam nodded and unbuttoned the back of your dress, helping you off your dress before doing the same to the skirts under it before taking off your bra, and kissed your forehead before pushing putting it all over a chair, not caring much about it now.

He gave you a bottle of water and kissed your temple before picking up his shirt - one you had stolen from him and was your favourite.

You nodded and lied down on the bed when he sat you on the mattress, spreading your legs and letting him clean the mix of your seed and your wetness from between your legs, and he just carried you along with him again when you wrapped your arms around him, so small he was using a single arm to support you as he threw the wipes away.

"Let's lay down," he kissed your cheek.

You nodded, still clinging to him as he lied on the bed, and only raised your eyes to his face when you were safely tucked into his chest.

"Was I a good wife, Sam?" you asked, softly.

"You are the best wife," he affirmed simply, reaching for you and kissing your lips before doing the same to your cheeks, nose and forehead. "You are perfect."

"You are the best husband," you whispered into his neck.

Sam just smiled, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles, and his finger touched your ring finger briefly.

Hopefully one day, when life was a little easier, and he was a lawyer, and you were a nurse, he would make you his read wife, not just a Halloween one - though he was, indeed, staring to warm up for the holiday.

He heard a soft snoring sound from you and smiled to himself, realising you had fallen asleep already, and let himself drift asleep just as well, thinking of you with his ring on your finger as he did.

…

“Housewife Halloween” was posted on Tumblr on May 2022. To read the prequel, “Plough Pose”, and have early access to all of my work, subscribe to my page! It’s just $2 a month and I post 6x a week!

…

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#Welldonebeca's Housewife Halloween #sam winchester #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader fanfic #sam winchester x reader fic #sam winchester x reader smut #sam winchester x reader fanfiction #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x you fanfiction #sam winchester x you fic #sam winchester x you fanfic #sam winchester x you smut #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x y/n fanfiction #sam winchester x y/n smut #sam winchester x y/n fic #sam winchester x y/n fanfic

[yunggoblin]

Innocent, Yet Dirty - Sam Winchester (18+)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: *Based off of Season 11 episode 12!* You're the youngest out of Jody's girls. What happens when the topic of sex comes across during dinner?

Warnings: Shy!Reader, Virgin!Reader, bullied, Un-Protected Sex, Awkward Sex Talk, Smut, Cussing, MINORS DNI!

Word Count: 4,164

Being the youngest in the house wasn’t the greatest, but it did have its advantages. The good thing about it was you basically got everything and treated a queen. The bad thing was no one heard the youngest, no one thinks the youngest is the one capable of doing things. Being the baby of the family meant basically you were treated like one and that’s what people saw you as. 

The bell rang loudly as you made your way towards your locker, putting in the combination. Once it clicked you opened the locker that was white inside and the shelf up top was silver. Plain. Everyone had pictures up with their family, animals or boyfriend/girlfriends kissing. You, you didn’t have many pictures of your parents since they were attacked by werewolves. You sighed softly only to jump when your locker door was slammed shut. 

"Hey Y/N.“ Alex, the second oldest of the three smiled, her boyfriend Henry’s arm hanging over her shoulder, her close to him. "Are you going to the game tonight?” She asked, cocking her head to the side.

You opened your mouth to speak but someone was already speaking for you. “Alex, babe. It’s Y/N you know she doesn’t go out.” Henry chuckled deeply.

"Henry.“ She snapped a bit, elbowing his side for his rudeness. "Well, I’ll see you in the car.” Alex smiled softly towards you and walked out with Henry, you did not like that boy ever since you laid your eyes on him. A group of jocks with leather men jackets on, obviously friends with Henry, walked by laughing. One roughly slammed his hand on your books making them drop to the ground, papers flying out of them from classes earlier today. 

As you gathered up all the papers and books you shoved them in your book bag, zipping it up and making your way outside to see Henry kissing Alex good-bye. You make your way past them to Jody’s work vehicle. “Y/N, wait.” You heard a voice before opening up the car. “Hey, I’m really sorry about Henry and his friends. I know that they can be assholes at time.” Alex explained in a soft tone, not wanting Jody to hear.

Your eyes flashed to the side mirror to see Jody looking at the two of you, trying to see what was going on. “Uh yeah.” Flashing a fake convincing smile towards your adopted sister. “It’s fine.” Lie, you weren’t fine with it. You just wish high school would be over.

"Great!“ She announced and got into the driver seat as you got into the back. The drive home was awkward and silent, as Jody pulled up in the driveway a black impala was parked there, you recognized that car anywhere. The Winchester boys were here. You couldn’t help but let a blush creep up upon your cheeks at the thought of Sam Winchester appearing in your mind. You haven’t seen him in a few years after the case. He and his brother worked to help you out. 

You knew who could then, Claire. “Can you guys help me with the groceries?” Asked Jody as she parked the car, you climbed out and grabbed a few bags for dinner tonight and a few other nights later on this week. Jody walked in first to see two men standing in the living room, Dean the short one with a jawline that could cut diamonds and Sam the tall one with puppy dog eyes and build like a rock. You passed everyone to put the bags on the counter top so Jody could go through it and put things away. 

"You remember Y/N, don'tcha?“ Jody asked as she pulled away from the hug she shared with Dean. 

"Of course I remember little Y/N. How couldn’t we?” Dean chuckled out, flashing a smile towards her way. 

"Hey Y/N, long time no see.“ Sam said, approaching you with his arms out wide expecting a hug. Your heart raced as the tall male wanted a hug from you. You quickly dodge the hug and rush up the stairs to your room. Sam frowned a bit and looked towards Jody to see if he did anything wrong, Dean also looked at Jody for an explanation. 

"She’s just a shy girl.” Jody tried to laugh it off, not knowing what your deal was. 

"Yeah, when it comes to contact with men.“ Claire teased out and stood up from the sofa, clapping her hands and rubbing them together. "Now, let's talk about that case.”

A few hours passed as you were sitting at your desk in your bedroom, writing down notes and reading in your History book about the Civil War. Sighing heavily as you rubbed your eyes as they grew heavier and heavier as you scanned the words on the paper. “Y/N, dinner is done!” You heard Claire shout out up the stairs. You placed your history notebook into the book and shut it so you wouldn’t lose the page you were at. You walked down the stairs to see two more people joining for dinner. 

You slowly shuffled towards the only seat that was opened, at the end of the table by Claire and Dean. Forks clinked against plates as silence filled the room, you, Claire and Alex looked at the two Winchesters as they tore into the food like they haven’t eaten in days. Sam ate the food off of his fork, tilting his head back as his eyes were closed like he was in pure bliss. “Hmm.” Dean was the one who broke the silence. “This bird is fantastic.” He basically moaned out from the taste of the dinner. “Just mix it up with the potatoes and- and the peas.” He looked at the four girls. “You guys eat like this everyday?” He questioned swallowing the rest of the food in his mouth.

“It’s just chicken.” Jody shrugged, like it was nothing but the boys were making something out of it. 

“It’s shaped like chicken, not on a patty or- or a nugget.” Sam explained. You couldn’t believe that the boys never had a meal like this; they only ate at fast food or a cheap gas station.

Claire rolled her eyes not wanting to talk about this, “Can we just please talk about the case?” She questioned making Sam stop talking but Dean was still digging into his food, ripping a bread roll apart and shoving it in his mouth. As they talked about the case you couldn’t help but watch Sam. The way he licked off the chicken juice from his fingers, licking his lips every time he took a sip from his wine and how he sat up straight in his chair, broad shoulders up and forearms resting on the table. 

“Yeah okay let’s talk about real life.” Claire scoffed with a smirk, you looked over at her. You knew that smirk anywhere, she was going to make a point and a damn good one. You pushed your mashed potatoes around with your silver fork. You brought up the fork to your mouth and ate the mash potatoes. “You and Henry pick a weekend yet?” She questioned making Alex arch an eyebrow and questioned ‘What?’ to Claire. “When you and Henry go to Jody’s cabin and screw yourself silly.” Claire announced to the whole table. 

Alex’s eyes widened and went red in the face. “Oh, here we go.” Dean said, putting his fork down and adjusting in his seat getting ready for what was about to go down. Sam patted on his chest like he almost choked on his food. 

“This uh, seems like a family business.” Sam swallowed thickly about the situation, he scooted his chair out but stopped when Jody slammed her hand down on the table. 

“Sit, stay.” Jody demanded. You looked over at Claire who was snickering about the thing. “Alex, anything you wanna say?” She questioned which Alex soon declined and slurped on her water. Dean was looking at Alex who was clearly lying and Sam was looking at his food. “Well hey, if we can’t talk about it we shouldn’t be doing it, right?” Jody asked and looked over at Sam and Dean. 

“Wha?” Dean questioned, swallowing a mouthful of food and Sam giving his best confused puppy dog face. 

Jody inhaled and sighed out. “Okay, I’m not going to tell you that you’re too young to be having sex. Nor you,” Jody pointed at Alex. “Or you.” She pointed at you, you almost coughed up your water. 

“Psh who is she going to have sex with? She doesn’t talk to anybody.” Alex snapped towards Claire, Claire rolled her eyes at the comment.

“Wrong person there. It’s Y/N, she’s the one who’s socially awkward. She wouldn’t even give Sam a hug.” You looked up to see everyone looking over at you. Your eyes darted towards Sam who cleared his throat and looked down. You could feel your face heating up and quickly stood up and walked out of the dinning room and rushed towards your room, slamming the door shut.

“Really? Did you really have to say that?” Jody asked in a pissy voice, Claire shrugged slightly and took a sip of her water. 

“This is fun.” Dean said as Jody walked out to get more potatoes. Claire laughed a bit sarcastically and nodded.

Throughout the night you tossed and turned, panting softly. The blanket became a furnace wrapped around your body, you kicked it off only to roll over and groan in your sleep.

Your dream contained Sam's lips against your neck, hands ghosting over your body, teasingly. Moans and groans echoing in the distance. You quickly woke up in a cold sweat, the last thing you could remember from your dream was his hazel green eyes staring down at you while he thrust inside of you. You froze once you moved around a bit, there was an aching in between your thighs. 

"Y/N, time for school.“ Jody knocked and opened the door making you pull the blankets closer to yourself. She frowned, noticing something was wrong. She walked over and put her cool hand against your forehead. "Oh sweetheart, you’re burning up. Stay home today and rest. I’ll be at the station, text me if you need anything.” She smiled softly and walked out, closing the door. 

You sighed out softly, you weren’t sick you knew that for sure. That damn wet dream you had of the youngest Winchester must have had you so hot and bothered that your own body temperature raised, making Jody think you were sick. You got up a half an hour later and took a cold shower trying to calm yourself down. Once you got out you dried off and put on something comfortable. You walked down the creaky steps and to the kitchen. 

As you looked in the fridge you could still imagine Sam’s hazel green eyes from your dream. Squirming slightly you quickly shut the door to the fridge and squeezed your thighs together, trying to gain friction to help with the feeling. 

You chewed on the bottom of your lip remembering when your sex ed teacher said about this. The only thing to really do is what’s called masturbation… well if nobody was around. You let out a shaky breath and walked up towards your room, the stairs seemed much taller than usual. Once you reached the top you looked down the stairs to see the front door, no one. You walked towards your room shutting the door, looking out the window, no impala nor the sheriff's car. You closed your curtains and slowly stripped out of the clothes that made your body feel like 100 degrees. 

You pulled the blankets back and laid down on the cool sheets, goosebumps erupted throughout your body as the air in the room seemed thicker than usual. Your hands slowly slid down the side of your body, going towards your core. You sucked in a break as your fingertip brushed up against your sensitive clit, you let out a whimper in the silent room. “S- Sam.” You blushed at the foreign sound, you didn’t even mean to moan out his name during this but he was all you can think of. 

Your fingertips slowly grazed against your entrance, another soft moan left your lips as you exhaled a sigh. The foreign feeling in between your legs made you shiver, the soft touch of your fingers pressed against your throbbing clit. “Sam, fuck.” You moaned a bit louder than before.

Your lower stomach clenched as you teased your clit, thinking about the youngest Winchester brother, Sam. His sweet smile flooded your brain along with his body. You shivered once more thinking about what was in pants, he was a tall man so it wouldn’t surprise you if he was packing a lot. 

Another hot wave hit your body, making you shiver as your pussy became even more wetter. Exhaling a shaky breath you slowly pushed your index and middle finger in between your aching lips. Swallowing thickly you placed the tips of your finger inside of you, your eyes shutting at the bliss of slowly being filled. “S- Sam, oh god, yes.” You moaned.

Before you could even push your fingers further inside of you, you heard your name being called out. “Y/N?” The person walked closer to the room. Your eyes darted towards the door as it started to open, they walked in as you quickly pulled the blanket over your naked body.

"G- Get out!“ You cried out, Sam’s eyes widen as he had a full view of everything, 

"I- I’m, I’m so sorry.” He said a bit too quickly, not moving from his spot. You couldn’t look at him, too embarrassed to even say anything but you knew he was there, still looking at you. 

“What are you doing?” Sam’s voice sounded deeper than usual. 

You slowly turned your head, looking at Sam who was leaning against your door frame now. “W- What?” Your voice shook when you spoke. You must have been imagining this. Imagining that his voice was deeper and rougher, imaging that he was asking you what you were doing. Imagining that he had a raging hard on.

Your eyes widened to see the large tent of his pants in between his legs. Your eyes shot back up to Sam’s face who was smirking towards you. “I asked you ‘what are you doing’?” Sam pushed himself off of the door frame.

“I- I’m- I’m…” You couldn’t get your words out as you held the blanket closer to your naked body, your pussy still getting wet at the sight of Sam’s eyes roaming your body. 

“Well, it looks like to me you’re playing hooky from school just to rub one out, yeah?” Sam walked inside of your bedroom, shutting the door softly behind him. “And you’re thinking of me while doing so.” You stayed silent as Sam approached you. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

You slowly nodded your head ‘yes.’ “Use your words, baby.”

“Y- Yes, I was thinking of you.” Your voice is small and soft when you speak.

“And here you have everyone fooled thinking that you’re some sweet innocent girl.” Sam clicked his tongue. “You know, from last night's conversation I couldn’t help but put two and two together. You’re a virgin?” He asked.

“Yes, I am.” You looked away, embarrassed but a blush upon your cheeks.

“And here you are touching that sweet little pussy, thinking of me and moaning my name.” Sam gripped himself, rubbing his cock as he let out a moan. “Does it feel good?” 

“Felt so good.” You let out a soft whine as Sam toyed with you, you clenched your thighs together once more.

“Show me, show me how good it makes you feel.” Sam grabbed the end of the blanket and ripped it off of you, showing off your body. The cool air danced along your feverish skin, breaking out in goosebumps while your nipples became hard. “Show me how you touched yourself, baby.” Sam stood at the end of your bed, leaning against your dresser, still rubbing himself.

Swallowing, you licked your lips and laid back against your pillows once more, spreading your legs more to give Sam a better view. “Fuck, you’re so wet and all from thinking about me?” Sam admired your pussy from afar, his eyes becoming darker. “Show me.” Sam reminded you what to do.

Your fingers trailed down your stomach and in between your legs. You sucked in a breath once the tip of your fingers connected with your clit, shivering you circled your fingers around it, toying with yourself. “Good girl.” Sam moaned, never looking away. 

“S- Sam.” You withered out a moan.

“I’m right here baby.” 

Feeling juices collect and leak down onto the bed sheets you knew you were ready to take your fingers. Sliding your fingers closer towards your entrance, you were about to enter them inside of you until Sam spoke. “Stop.”

Stopping your movements you watched as Sam approached the foot of the bed. “You’ve never touched yourself have you?”

“This- This is my first time.” You panted, trying to collect your breath.

“I want to taste you, I want my tongue to be the first thing ever to be inside this pussy.” Sam climbed onto the bed, nuzzling himself in between your legs. “This is if you’ll have me?”

“Please, please Sam be the first.” You begged.

Sam smiled up at you, his green eyes never leaving yours as the tip of his tongue slowly swirled against your clit. You gasped loudly as his hot breath was upon you. “Shit.” You whined. Sam engulfed his mouth on your clit, slowly suckingly softly. “Fuck.” You cursed again, arching your back at the feeling. 

Sam moaned, sending vibrations up your spine. He slowly pulled away, pushing your lips apart he hummed and dove back inside, lapping his tongue away on your pussy. You squealed as he pushed his tongue inside your tight walls, stretching them. “S- Sam.” You tried to warn him about your stomach clenching and your head feeling light. 

Sam kept going, flicking his tongue in and out of you as he fucked you with it, climbing to a faster pace than before. Your breathing got heavier as you rolled your hips against his face. “S- Sam.” You moaned once more, Sam moaned with you as he rutted his hips against the mattress. “Fuck- wait, n- no wait!” You cried out, you tried to push him off but he wasn’t letting go. Something snapped inside of you as your first orgasm washed over your body.

You were screaming in pleasure, bucking your hips against Sam as he kept lapping at the cream you were giving him. Once he knew you were finished, he pulled away. “What- What was that?” 

“You just came on my tongue.” Sam chuckled, licking his lips and collecting the rest of your juices on his face. “You want to do it on my dick?” Sam was now on his knees, rubbing himself through his pants.

“Y- Yes.” You panted, watching Sam get off the bed he pulled his shirt off, tossing it somewhere you admired his Anti-Possession symbol on his chest. Sam’s fingers danced along his belt, taking it off he pushed his jeans down along with his boxers. Sam’s thick cock bounced upwards slightly, hitting his lower toned stomach. Your mouth watered at the sight of his raging cock, leaking pre-come and begging to be stroked.

“Is it going to hurt?” You asked, still not taking your eyes off of Sam’s cock.

“Just a little baby, but I got you.” Sam crawled back on the bed, towering over you. Sam grabbed the base of his cock and rubbed his cock head against your slick folds, watching you come undone and shiver against him

"Sensitive little thing, aren'tcha?” He purred deeply as he slowly pushed the tip of his head in making you hiss slightly. 

"S- Sam.” You whined as his large tip stretched you.

“Shh, I’m right here baby. So tight around me and I’m barely even in you.” Sam looked down as your pussy slowly swallowed him. “That’s a good girl, taking this fat cock.” Sam moaned as he pushed himself inside of you.

You gripped onto his biceps, digging your nails into his flesh as the slight burning sensation washed over you as his thickness stretched your walls wider. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes but you quickly blinked them away. “Shit- you’re big.” You cried out. 

“Almost there baby, it’s going to feel so fucking good when I start pumping inside of you.” Sam’s voice gruffed out as he was struggling to keep the movement slow as he pushed himself inside of you. Sam sighed out loudly, blissfully as he was now balls deep in you. “Fuck! Wrapped so snug around me.” It was Sam’s turn to whimper. “About to make me come.” He teased.

You moaned softly at the sound of that, the thought of your cunt being so tight that it made Sam come undone upon entering you. “Pl- Please, move. I need to feel you.” You whimpered out, gripping his shoulder and clawing at his skin. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the pain slowly fading which felt like forever which turned into pleasure. 

Sam slowly started to grind his hips against you, rocking back and forth as he pushed in and out, low moans erupting from both of you as he started to settle a pace. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” Sam moaned, looking down to see his cock glistening wet each time he pulled out of you. Sam pulled out all the way out and slammed back into you a bit too roughly. You let out a loud cry that could be heard throughout the house. “Shit baby, I’m sorry.” He apologized and stopped his movements. 

"N- No Sam, please. Again, again, again!“ You begged out loudly, he looked down at you smiling softly. He pulled out and pushed roughly back in moaning softly. "Fuck, yes right there.” You moaned.

Sam started to quickly pump his hips, in and out, in and out. “Fuck baby, you’re going to make me come.” Sam grunted out, you arched your back into him as his cock twitched in you.

"M- Me too, I’m going to come. Fuck, Sammy I’m going to come!” You sobbed, "Sammy, please let me come!” You screamed out his name. His hips roughly slamming into you, skin slapping against skin, the most sinful sounds echoing throughout the room, bouncing off the walls. 

You clawed down his back, gripping it tightly as he grunted, the bed rocking with a creak of every thrust. “Shit, fucking going to come.” Sam growled, your walls clenching around his hard cock making it harder for him to thrust. 

"Shit, Sam!“ You cried out as you were squirting all on his cock, Sam also moaned out, the tight feeling of your pussy clenching around him had him on the edge. He quickly pulled his cock out, his hand wrapped around his cock, covering in your juices made it easier for him to quickly jerk himself off. He moaned loudly as ropes of come squirted on your lower stomach. “Fuck, yes, fuck, Y/N.” Sam tilted his head back moaning, his hips rutting against his touch. You panted out softly as you were coming down from your high, admiring the mess Sam made all over your body.

Sam hummed and growled lowly as he milked himself. He slowly opened his eyes, looking down at you as you smiled up at him. He broke out a smile as well, leaning down and kissed your lips softly. Sam reached for his shirt and cleaned the mess off of you. Tossing the shirt somewhere on the floor he pulled your naked form close to him.

“I’m glad you took a day off from school.” Sam chuckled, you laid your head on his chest listening to his heart beat. 

"Hmm, me too.“ You hummed out and slowly fell asleep.

   A few days passed, you blushed as Sam hugged you a good-bye. "I put my number in your phone, text or call whenever you need me.” He whispered during the hug. 

You nodded as you pulled away from the tall male and waved good-bye as the two boys climbed into the 1967 ChevyImpala and drove off. “So, I was doing laundry last night.” Jody mentioned. “I couldn’t help but notice a stain on your sheets.” 

A blush crept upon your face once again as sex talk was coming. “Did Sam wrap it?” Jody questioned. 

"Oh my gosh, Jody.“ You squeaked out only to stop talking. 

“Y/N, we do not need a little Winchester running around here.” Jody dug into her pocket and tossed you a small foil package. “For next time.” She winked.

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[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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[samsno1]

Dream Of Me

Sam Winchester x F!Reader

i was going to do this fic much, much longer, it would have a whole plot and all but i am so exhausted i wasn't feeling it so have this short horny ass one-shot because i was ovulating while writing this lol

Summary: You quite literally got into Sam's head...

Warnings: SMUTish, m. masturbation, use of y/n, descriptions of nudity, *almost* cunnilingus (read it so you will understand lmao), kissing, nipple sucking, marking (?), english is not my first language

You can learn how to change "Y/N" for your actual name here

Read it on AO3

Read Part Two

WC: 2.3k

enjoy!

Sam kissed you deeply, his lips dragging against yours eagerly. His big hands grabbed at your hips, blunt nails digging into your skin through your clothes. His tongue sinfully entered your mouth, exploring the warmth and groaning at your taste.

Your hands wrapped themselves behind his neck, fingers brushing through his long locks, lightly tugging at each lap of his tongue through your lips. He slowly walked you back, your knees hitting the edge of the mattress and Sam gently held your upper back to place you softly over the covers, mouths never leaving each other. His long hair tickled your cheeks, his nose bumped into yours. His desire was almost palpable as his kisses became more and more desperate, his hands clawing at your back as one of his knees supported his weight between your thighs. His long torso angled itself in an arch to keep his assault on your mouth.

When he finally pulls away, a whine escapes your throat, your raw lips begging for more as your eyes watch his flushed face. He panted above you as he straightened up, his arms crossing to grab at the hem of his shirt and pull it off, the collar of the clothing lifting his hair and then making it bounce back in place perfectly, a stupid grin on his face – a sinful, I know you like what you see grin – as he catches your beautiful eyes analyzing every bit of exposed skin.

He places both his hands on each side of your head, his hair framing his face, a little curtain to hide the absolutely hungry look on his eyes.

“Like what you see, pretty girl?” He questions and you nod in affirmation. He dips down again to attack your neck with open mouthed kisses and bites, making you whine and mewl on his ears and your hands reach for his back, your nails digging into the flesh. His hands drag down your front, bumping against your hard nipples and going low enough so that he can drag your shirt up, his obnoxiously long fingers brushing against your hot skin and throwing even more wood in the fire that was in your belly.

He pulls away momentarily and you lift your arms above your head so that he can take the shirt off for you, the clothing blocking the stunning view of an aroused Sam Winchester for a few seconds as it goes through your head. When he finally throws the shirt away on the ground he practically pouts when he sees the bra covering your breasts and sensually – slowly – trails his hands to your back, leaving yet another mind blowing kiss on your lips, humming, fucking humming in delight, just for being able to do this to you.

He unclasps the undergarment, and you feel him smile against your lips as if he was saying finally I can really see you. As he takes yet another article of clothing off of you he really eyes you down – I mean really. He registers every curve, every scar and every single particle of your skin, his lust-blown eyes eating you alive right then and there, your chest going up and down with deep breaths, your abused mouth half open, your hands splayed beside your head – everything.

He takes a single hand to caress over your skin, starting low at your neck and slowly coming down at the valley of your breasts, down your belly until he’s below your belly button then his other hand joins the action, one on each side of you, dragging up your waist and feeling around your ribs until they finally grab at each boob, squeezing. You groan and grab at both his wrists to keep him there, the little stimulation you got better than anything. He hums above you, his head dipping down to leave feather-light kisses over your collarbones.

“So pretty” He murmurs against your skin “So, so beautiful for me Y/N”

You sigh as he massages your breasts, his mouth dragging down to one of your nipples, wrapping around it and hollowing his cheeks, sucking on your skin and circling his tongue around your tit. You arch your back, a low moan rippling through your throat as you roll your hips, trying to find any kind of friction for the ache between your thighs.

“Sam…” You plead, grabbing at his hair to tug. He groans at your action, biting lightly on your nipple and you shriek. He lifts his head up, chuckling lowly, evil even, a smug smirk on his face, his dimples making him look even prettier above you. He lets your breasts go and smashes his mouth to yours again, swallowing your complaints.

His hands hold you at your belt loop and he bumps his crotch against yours and oh my god. You let out a cry, breaking the connection, and hide your head in his shoulder, your mouth kissing below his ear lobe as you whisper to him:

“Please, please, please, do something, Sam” You beg and he hushes you, one of his hands going towards your lower back to hug your naked tummy against his defined body. He squeezes your skin, wanting to mold into you and turn you inside out.

“Shh, beautiful, I’m gonna take care of you” He says, kissing your neck and unbuttoning your tight jeans with one hand. Excitement runs through his veins, his mouth still marking your skin.

His hand finally manages to unzip your pants and he flattens his palm against your lower belly to drag his fingers below the waistband of your panties. He swipes one teasing middle finger between your folds making you buck against his hand and let out a cry of desperation. He brings his finger out, making you groan in complaint until he lifts his head up, grabs your chin and makes you stare at him in the eyes.

When he’s sure you’re looking, he inserts his slick soaked finger into his mouth and sucks on it, pleasurable noises coming out of his throat as he savors your taste on his tongue, his eyes closing in bliss. The sight is beyond unholy, the action making your cunt clench into nothing, your glossy eyes couldn’t look away and Sam was taking advantage of that. Nothing you’ve ever experienced with anyone before made you feel so needy for someone's mouth between your thighs, eating you out with all their want, need, for you, nose deep into your pussy. Sam did that.

He takes his finger out of his mouth with a pop, licking his lips with his tongue and he opens his eyes to look at you and you are, for sure, looking at him, completely hypnotized by his spell. He grins and dips his head close to your ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps all over your body.

“I’m going to eat you out until you’re begging me to stop, until you’re physically unable to take anything anymore” He whispers and bites at your earlobe and jesus fucking christ where did this man get this mouth. You let out a shaky breath at his words, the fantasy making you squeeze your legs together.

“Please, please, please” You beg as Sam starts kissing down your body, open mouthed kisses left and right. His mouth bit and sucked at points he learned made you tingly inside and your hips roll below him. When he gets to the waistband of your pants he hooks two fingers of each hand through it to drag both your underwear and your jeans down your legs. It felt cold for about three seconds until the sight of Sam looking up at your face through his long lashes, eyes filled with lust, burned you from the inside out.

Once you were completely bare under him he left kisses in each of your inner thighs, his calloused hands kneading on the skin. You look down again, his hair brushes your legs, his mouth so close, so, so close that you could feel his breath against your soaked cunt. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you and you felt like the last woman on earth, wondering how this man could be so perfect, inside and outside. He finally starts to approach your folds, his mouth slowly opening to wrap around your clit and…and…

“Sammy wake up!” Sam’s shaken awake by a hand on his arm and takes a deep breath in. He rubs his eyes, trying to adjust to the light that got turned on by whoever disturbed his sleep – his very good and desirable sleep. His blurred vision starts to focus on the figure besides his bed. Dean towers over Sam in his robe, an unfazed look on his face and a cup of coffee in his hand that isn’t holding his arm.

“Dean?” He questions, voice hoarse from sleep, as he sits up on the bed, the covers falling from his chest to pool around his hips, still hiding his legs below it. Dean drops his hand from his upper arm “What time is it?”

“About 10AM” He says “We might’ve found a case, we need your help with research” He affirmed and Sam nodded. Oh my god. You. How was he going to face you? How was he going to be able to concentrate on your explanation of the case to him when he just fantasized about his mouth between your legs eating you – scratch that – almost eating you out? I’m screwed. “Clean up and meet me and Y/N at the library” Dean says finally, snapping him out of his thoughts and giving him a slap on his back, to which Sam groaned in annoyance. He leaves the room soon after, closing the door behind him.

He lets out a shaky breath, his hands supporting his upper body against the mattress. Just now did he notice the blood pulsing between his legs and the way he seemed hotter than usual. He rubbed both hands over his face, get it together, God damn it. He threw his legs off the side of the bed and stood up, making a beeline to the bathroom. He needed a cold shower, an ice bath, drown in the lakes of Alaska, anything to cool his body and his thoughts.

Every time he blinked there you were, his disheveled hair and lust blown pupils looking up at you. It had been some time since he started developing a crush on the huntress, your kind and caring – but at the same time firm and assertive – personality got him hooked pretty quick and your smartness always impressed him. Dean often made fun of you for being sort of a nerd – in his words – but that just made you even more desirable for him. And, of course, you looked incredible. Your killer body and beautiful features made you look amazing even when you were covered in monster guts.

Peeling off his clothes and turning the water to the coldest setting definitely helped. But, his boner was still there. He cursed to himself and hesitantly wrapped a hand around his cock, eyes closing and teeth digging into his lips to hold back any noise. He started rubbing slowly, up and down, visions of you on his head, beneath him, hair messed up by his hands and skin marked by his mouth and teeth. He wondered how your pussy would taste on his tongue, which noises you would make when he finally brought you over that edge just with his mouth. Then with his fingers. Then…

He quickened his movements, his chest going up and down quickly with deep breaths. Sam should feel bad for touching himself to the thought of you, he should feel bad for dreaming of you that way but he just couldn’t. The images of you flashing into his mind were making him feel thoroughly euphoric, his heartbeat could be felt in his ears and he couldn’t stop himself from imagining your cries of pleasure as he pumped into you or the different positions he could put you in. Fucking you against the shower wall or over the map table.

His drenched hair fell besides his face, the cold water running down his head and back as he slightly hunched over. One of his hands supported his weight against the wall while the other grasped tightly at his shaft. He thought about you moaning his name, much like you did in the dream, and how it sounded so sweet yet so arousing. 

His breathing was shallow, his hands were shaking and with a sigh of your name he finally came. He was in bliss, the orgasm hitting him like a truck. He pressed his forearm against the wall in a horizontal position and rested his head over it, his softening dick still in his hand. He opened his eyes, the sound of the water falling to the ground finally being processed by his brain again.

Jesus Christ.

The guilt suddenly hit him and he shook his head, partially in disbelief at what his body and mind made him feel. And do. Even if his body calmed down, his brain still had that dream practically memorized. He sighed, cleaning himself up all over again, the mess he made going down the drain, hiding the evidence. He got out of the shower, toweling his hair and drying his face.

He stood in front of the mirror and looked at his reflection. His cheeks were still flushed but, besides that, nothing could give anything away. He breathed out a chuckle.

“God damn it” He whispered to himself as he proceeded to dry the rest of his body with a different towel than the one he used in his hair, then wrapping that towel around his hips and going back to his room to change into different clothes. Today was going to be a long day.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading, Xoxo

Read Part Two

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[anglbby444]

Sam Winchester is a sex machine, no fucking doubt. His sex drive is almost as high, if not higher, than his brothers. Although he’s shy talking about sex with others, with you, this man has the filthiest mouth. He jerks off at least 5 times a week, every single time thinking about you. And he’ll let you know that. “I’m sure you’re thinking of my big, strong hands wrapped around my cock as I moan out your name, how I wish this was your pussy I was pumping my cock in and out of..”

#anglbby444 #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester x plus size reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester #supernatural fanfiction #smut #supernatural smut

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Right Person, Wrong Time

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader, Sam Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.1k

Warnings: angst, marrying someone you're not in love with, feeling sad at your wedding

Summary: Spencer had half a decade to confess his feelings for you but never did. You moved on to someone who loves you for you, who treats you like a queen, and who takes care of you. Spencer has one more chance to tell you how he feels before you're married, but does he take it?

Square Filled: sam winchester (spnxcm crossover) for @fandombingo

Author’s Note: this is a supernatural x criminal minds crossover

x

This should be the happiest day of your life. You should be celebrating with your bridesmaids, drinking champagne, and having a good time together. They are, you aren’t. You’re standing on the small platform in front of the three-piece mirror staring at yourself in your wedding dress while your bridesmaids are sitting in the middle of the room having a good time.

JJ, Penelope, Emily, Charlie, Jo, and Eileen have no clue what you’re feeling right now. They expect happiness, happy tears, and being jittery for your upcoming wedding. Instead, you’re thinking about how you got here and if there was anything you could have done differently.

The man you’re marrying today isn’t the one you truly want to marry.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” JJ asks when she notices you staring into the void.

“Nothing,” you snap out of it. “Is everyone here?”

Since JJ is your maid of honor, she is in charge of making sure everything goes smoothly for you. She grabs the clipboard and looks over the roster.

“Spencer hasn’t checked in.”

That makes your heart twist painfully.

“Well, we can’t wait for him to show up. The show must go on!” Charlie declares, earning agreement from the other women. 

Someone knocks on the door and Derek pops his head in.

“The music is starting. Time to go.”

All of your bridesmaids have one of your fiance’s groomsmen to walk down the aisle with. JJ is with Will, Penelope is with Kevin, Charlie is with Dean, Eileen is with Castiel, Jo is with Spencer, and Emily is with Derek. Spencer isn’t here to walk Jo down the aisle but she doesn’t seem all that worried.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go find Rossi,” she says and leaves the room.

Everyone shuffles out of the room to get ready but you stay where you are by the mirror. You’re marrying such an amazing man who loves you for you. You should be happy right now. Derek closes the door behind him and walks up behind you so he can look at you through the reflection.

“Are you doing okay?”

You bite your lower lip to keep yourself from crying. If there is anyone who knows how you’re feeling, it’s Derek. He’s your best friend. You tell him everything.

“Spencer isn’t here,” you whisper.

“No, no tears. You’re marrying Sam.”

“I know,” you nod.

You’d rather be marrying Spencer instead. For years, you’ve pined after Spencer. It started when you first got hired into the BAU and he showed you around for a whole week. He knew you had a thing for him even though you never outright told him you did. It was all in the little things you did for him like you’d make his coffee every morning, you’d compliment him more than the other ladies, you’d do anything to keep a smile on his face, and you’d bring him presents whenever you were thinking about him.

He never did anything with that information. He knew you had a thing for him but never made a move.

One day, you were working a case and ran into Sam and Dean Winchester who were on the same case but as hunters. Sam was the perfect gentleman and treated you with nothing but respect. He never did this before, but he asked for your number because he had to keep in touch with you even when he and Dean left for another case. At first, you were skeptical because you were so hung up on Spencer.

After the first date with Sam, you saw him as someone you could have feelings for. The more you went on dates with him, the more you started to like who he was as a person. Spencer still hadn’t made a move on you so what is the harm in moving forward with your relationship with such an amazing man?

After the first year, you allowed yourself to really love Sam. When Sam asked you to marry him, you had to say yes. Spencer was nowhere near confessing his feelings for you and you’re sick and tired of waiting for something that might happen. He loves you, he treats you like a queen, and you really do love him.

You’re just not in love with him. You’re in love with Spencer but the last thing you’re gonna do is tell him and Sam about this. If Spencer loved you in the way you did, he would have confessed to you a long time ago.

So, here you are on your wedding day and Spencer isn’t even here.

You prepare yourself and head to the double doors where your dad is patiently waiting for you. The bridesmaids and groomsmen have already walked down the aisle so now they’re all eagerly waiting for you.

“Are you ready?” your dad asks.

“More than ever.”

Your smile doesn’t quite reach your ears. The music starts and your dad walks you down the aisle. Sam smiles widely when he sees you, and his eyes hold so much love for you. It’s really unfair how you’re feeling. Sam is such an amazing man who loves you and you should be happy to marry him. You are but knowing Spencer isn’t here makes this less than what it is.

You meet Sam at the front of the altar and smile up at him. The minister begins the ceremony. It goes as smoothly as possible until he gets to the part where people can object.

“Speak now if you object, or forever hold your peace.”

You scan the room at all of your guests. All of them are happy you’re marrying someone you absolutely love. There in the back is Spencer who must have come in after the ceremony started. He’s watching you with red eyes like he’d been crying. You lock eyes with him and question if he’s going to say anything. 

He doesn’t.

The minister moves on and finishes the ceremony quickly.

“Sam Winchester, you may now kiss the bride.”

Sam pulls you in and kisses you just as the entire room erupts in cheers. Everyone but Spencer claps happily for the newlywed couple. Everyone moves to the reception area to enjoy good food, good music, and each other’s company.

“Everyone, may I present to you, Sam and Y/N Winchester. Make way for the first dance.”

Everyone clears the dancefloor so you and Sam can have this special moment to yourselves. Sam pulls you in close and slow dances to the song you picked as “Your Song”. Sam twirls you in his arms and pulls you in close to his chest. You look up at him and smile widely to show him how happy you are with him.

You put your head on his chest and look by the snack table to see Spencer standing there watching you and Sam dance with such sad eyes. You quickly look away from him and enjoy the moment you’re in.

There’s a soulmate for everyone but sometimes not everyone gets to be with them.

x

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #spencer reid f #sam winchester fanfic #spencer reid angst #sam winchester fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #criminal minds angst #supernatural fluff #cm #cm fanfiction #spn #spn fanfiction #cm angst #spn fluff

[corinthianism]

last kiss | sam winchester (5)

pairing: sam winchester/f!reader additional tags: best friends to lovers (?), fluff, angst warning(s): implied/referenced non-con

masterlist | previous chapter | ao3

CHAPTER FIVE: TEN SECONDS

You didn’t know where you were. You didn’t even know how much time has passed since Lucifer took you away. He stashed you in some house. It looked like a normal suburban home, except it seemed he used his amped-up archangel abilities to essentially create a whole pocket dimension for you. On a surface level, every day felt like a normal day. Night and day passed just the same as it would in the real world. You had neighbors, and they were both familiar and unfamiliar. “Dean” lived right across the street whilst “Bobby” and “Cas” lived right next to you. The other houses were occupied by random people you didn’t know. It was like a bad djinn hallucination.

The routine was always the same: wake up, eat, try to kill time, sleep, repeat. In the beginning, you thought you were just having a bad dream; that Dean, Bobby, and Cas were really there with you. However, when you tried talking to them, they were way too out of character. Dean acted like a stereotypical macho man with absolutely no personality whatsoever, Bobby’s parental instincts towards you were taken to new heights in an almost cartoony way, and Cas was a helpless imbecile.

Then there was Sam. Sam was the only one who acted like himself. You’d wake up next to him, eat meals with him. You did everything you normally did with him, except in this weird world, you weren’t hunters. It felt eerily similar to the dreams you’ve had before. 

He kissed you, touched you in ways the real him would never have the courage to do, but you refused to sleep with him. No matter how many times he tried to initiate it. He wasn’t real, and this was all wrong.

He would leave at exactly 9am everyday. Those first few days, you tried finding a way to escape. You tried talking to your “friends”. You tried hurting them. You tried pleading with Sam. When nothing else worked, you tried killing him. 

And he was dead. For a while. The very next day, you woke up next to him again, as if nothing happened. After that, you resigned to just doing whatever you could to not be present in the moment. You played the role of housewife, because there was nothing else you could do.

Until now.

You woke up again, expecting to see the same cream-colored walls and smell the same ever-present smell of lavender. Instead, you were in an unfamiliar room. 

The first thing that hit you was that it was rancid compared to what you were used to, as if somebody tried to hide the smell of a dead body with some berry-scented perfume. You turned around, and there was Sam. He donned a fully white suit, his hair uncharacteristically slicked back.

“You’ve been very impressive,” he winked at you, taking his hands out of his pockets to give you a mocking slow clap. This was Lucifer and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t find a trace of Sam. “For someone so in love with him, you did a bang-up job of… well, not banging him.”

You didn’t answer.

“Aww, come on now. Giving me the silent treatment?” he stepped forward. “What if I told you… he could still hear you if you talked to him? Not that he would be able to answer. Not unless I wanted him to, of course.”

That got your attention, and it gave you a boost of courage that had otherwise been taken from you. You ran towards him, grabbing him by the collar.

“Sam? Sam! Listen to me, if you’re in there, you’ve gotta fight it! Take back control, Sam!” you pleaded desperately, your last attempt in getting your best friend back.

His expression changed, and suddenly, he grabbed your shoulders. His body language and the cadence of his voice changed as well, and for a moment, all hope was not lost. It was as if the clouds parted to reveal the sun. This was your Sam.

“You’ve got to get out of here,” he pushed you away, looking around frantically for an exit for you to use. “You have to stay away from me, you have to—”

You took several steps back, turning around to grab the doorknob, only to find that the door was just part of the wallpaper, “What—”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” it echoed from behind you. You turned around slowly, and “Sam” was standing perfectly still and upright once again. “Naughty Sam. Naughty you.”

He approached you, stopping right in front of you before he looked you up and down like a predator assessing its prey.

“So, it’s just you and me now, princess,” he tilted your chin upward to have you look at him. “You know, I can see inside Sammy’s head, and my, my, my… the thoughts he has about you aren’t as innocent as you think they are.”

You scowled at him, even if it was unnatural for you to do such a thing to Sam. This wasn’t Sam anymore, you had to remember that.

“Remember… Jessica? Oh, I bet that one broke your heart. The love of your life going off to some fancy Ivy League and getting a pretty blonde… well, if it’s any consolation, he was always thinking of you. I’m pretty sure that’s the only reason he could get off whenever he was inside her.”

He laughed, as if he said the funniest thing in the world. He traced hearts and random shapes on your cheek, his laughter dying down into a contented sigh. 

“You and I are gonna have a lot of fun together,” he finally said, his hand sliding down to your neck, and then to the collar of your button-down plaid shirt. He unbuttoned it once, “Sammy’s screaming at me right now. It’s very annoying.”

He unbuttoned another one, “I don’t see why he’s not enjoying this more, honestly. After all, this is what he wanted. If anything, I’m doing him a favor.”

He leaned closer, and you desperately tried to slow down your breathing. Your heart was pounding, so much so that you were almost sure that Lucifer could hear it. You always wanted Sam, but not like this. Lucifer knew that, and so he would do exactly what he wanted. 

Lucifer, in a mission to ruin you forever, took more and more of your dignity with each button he removed. Finally, when your skin was on display for only him to see, a wide grin appeared on his face. Sam’s face.

“You’re never going to be the same after this,” he promised, and all you could do was hide somewhere in your mind where even the devil couldn’t find you.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

Lucifer took you to a cemetery, whispering in your ear about how once Michael showed up, you were gonna see the greatest battle in history. Of course, Lucifer would win.

Ever since that night, you felt like a prisoner of your mind. It was both your safe place and your punishment. You tried to remind yourself that it wasn’t Sam; that it was Lucifer who stole your dignity. Sam would never… Sam could never hurt you the way Lucifer had.

Even in the presence of two archangels, you stayed silent, and accepted your fate. Half of the world was gonna burn to the ground when this was all over, and you just hoped that your death would be quick. You felt sick when Michael looked at you, something akin to both disgust and pity written all over his face.

Then, the familiar rev of Baby’s engine reached your ears. Your head shot up, seeing the Dean riding the Impala into the graveyard, right in front of Michael and Lucifer.

Dean got out of the car, his eyes immediately flickering over to you in worry, but he pressed forward and marched right up to the two archangels. 

“Hey, we need to talk.”

Lucifer scoffed, “Dean. Even for you, this is a whole new mountain of stupid.”

“I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to Sam.”

“You’re no longer the vessel, Dean. You got no right to be here.”

Dean turned to Michael, his voice filled with sincerity and regret, “Adam, if you’re in there somewhere, I’m so sorry.”

“Adam isn’t home right now.”

Castiel and Bobby arrived, with Cas throwing a can of holy fire at Michael to keep him at bay. This irked Lucifer, who then snapped his fingers. Cas exploded, leaving behind bits and pieces of blood and flesh.

“You know… I tried to be nice, for Sammy’s sake. But you are… such a pain in my ass,” he threw Dean against the windshield of the Impala.. Bobby shot at Lucifer’s back, prompting Lucifer to twist his hand. Bobby’s neck snapped.

Your eyes widened, two of the people you cared about was just murdered by Lucifer, and you’d be damned if you weren’t gonna do something about it. You ran towards Lucifer, trying to get him away from Dean. With a flick of his hand, you were thrown against a nearby tree. The impact was enough to knock you out for a few seconds, your vision falling in and out of darkness.

You laid motionless on top of the pile of dry, dead leaves, unable to do anything but watch. Lucifer got closer to Dean, grabbing him by the legs and then punching him.

“No!” was what you wanted to say, but nothing came out. You could feel a branch poking at the skin of your back.

Lucifer kept punching Dean, over and over until Dean’s face was barely recognizable.

Then something happened.

His fist was still raised in the air, and you could see the internal war raging inside him. His hands shook, and his grip on the collar of Dean’s shirt loosened. There was a glint in his eyes, one that told you whether or not the body you were talking to was Lucifer or Sam. You held your breath, eyes lasered in his face, not sure if the person in front of you was your Sam.

For him, it felt like time had stopped. There was no apocalypse. No Lucifer. No Michael, no nothing.

All he could see was the toy soldier stuck in the Impala’s ashtray. That was enough for him. The sight of the toy, the memories etched into the car, the image of his bloodied brother in front of him who, even then, was still unwilling to fight.

The memories didn’t hit him like an outside force, they came from him, blossomed from a place he forgot about. Locked in a treasure chest he kept in the deepest corners of his soul, where not even the devil could touch it. Clear as day, he relived every single one, and with each memory, the clearing grew wider. He could crawl out and push Lucifer back. 

He saw it all: the good, the bad, and the ugly. He remembered sticking that toy in the ash tray, and the stern, drunken scolding that he got from his dad soon after. He remembered him and Dean etching their initials on the car door. He remembered the fireworks. The countless nights of booze and fastfood takeout. Lying down on the hood of the car to watch the stars whenever they were in between cases. All the times Dean saved his ass, yelled at him, laughed with him, and everything in between.

His eyes met yours, and the sight of you broke his heart all over again.

Sam didn’t have much time. This much he knew. He could feel the mind-melting, soul-breaking pain of Lucifer scratching at his walls— no, he was tearing them down, howling to be in control once more. Sam could hear every single scream and whisper that Lucifer was filling his ears with and it was too much. In his gut swelled the familiar hatred that the fallen archangel harbored for humanity, and it wasn’t the boiling hot rage that most people would expect. It was the kind of hatred that flowed through each and every single blood vessel in your body; the kind that only a being as old as the devil could feel. It was quiet, deadly. It was the kind of hatred that consumed you, built up from eons of being locked in a cage like an animal. Lucifer blurred the lines between his anger and Sam’s, and that scared the younger Winchester.

But standing there with you, seeing you as if it was the first time, Sam thought he could bear it, if only a little while longer. Standing there with you made it clear that that hatred couldn’t possibly be his own, because how could he ever hate you? No, Sam Winchester loved you, and it came to him as easy as breathing.

More memories broke through, and this time, they’re of you. The way your eyes crinkled when you smiled. The sound of your laughter in the early morning. The time you helped him make a girl jealous in 8th grade when it was really just an excuse to be close to you. The time you kissed him when you were as high as a kite after getting your wisdom teeth removed. 

If he closed his eyes, he could feel the ghost of your lips on his and pretend that everything was alright. Lucifer would not take this away from him.

Finally, Sam lowered his fist and gasped as his senses were flooded with everything. You could almost sob in relief, if it wasn’t for the fact that it wouldn’t be long until Michael and Lucifer came back with a vengeance, but nothing could ever be worse than what would come next. Sam took several steps back, rummaging through his pocket to retrieve the Four Horsemen’s rings. Your muscles ached as you tried to get back up, but nothing could trump the pain in your chest as you watched Sam slowly back away from Dean.

It’s cruel, probably the cruelest thing that the universe threw at you. You had seconds of clarity, and they were the seconds counting down to the love of your life’s suicide. Sam looked at Dean, and then at you, and you almost wished he didn’t. For a moment, you thought that maybe this was all some one sick, twisted nightmare and that you were gonna wake up any minute now. You blinked, but Dean was still beaten and bloody and Sam still felt so far away. There were tears in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Even now, he still tried to keep on a brave face for you. It almost made you smile. A tiny part of you hoped that maybe the apocalypse wouldn’t be so bad as long as you went down with him. Almost as if you wanted Lucifer to win just so you could keep Sam in the only way you could. The thought passed as quickly as it came, all while feeling like a knife had been twisted in your stomach. 

“It’s gonna be okay, I got him,” he breathed heavily, stepping away from you and Dean even further. “We’re gonna be okay. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

He sounded as if he didn’t really believe himself either.

He pulled out the Horsemen’s rings from his pocket and threw them on the ground, chanting the incantation to open the cage. The ground shook, and before you knew it, a large pit had opened up in the soil. From where you stood, all you could see was a black void, but you knew what it was. It was hell. It was the deepest, darkest, most depraved part of hell and Sam was going in with a one-way ticket. 

“Sammy,” your voice broke. He turns his head to look at you again. You didn’t know what to say. Did you want to stop him? Jump into the pit with him? Profess your undying love for him?

None of those options seemed right. The clock was ticking.

Ten. 

You could see how scared he was, his hands trembled with the weight of what he was about to do. You wanted to go up to him, hold him, tell him that he was going to be okay, but you couldn’t. It was dangerous, yes, but you knew that if you took even just one step closer to him, you wouldn’t let him go.

Nine.

“I’m sorry,” he called you. “For everything.”

He took another step back. He knew what Lucifer did to you, and it crushed him. It took everything in him to not go to you and protect you the way he wanted to. To beg for your forgiveness.

Eight.

“Sam, please,” you begged, though you weren’t sure what you were begging for. You looked over at Dean, trying to get him to back you up. World be damned, you won’t fucking lose Sam. Dean could only stare back at you, his head hung low in defeat. He was letting go, and he was telling you to do the same.

Seven.

The air seemed to grow heavier, and Sam yelled at you and Dean to stay back. Even though it broke your heart to do so, you did as he asked, scurrying over to Dean’s side to help him get away from Sam. Dean grunted in pain, clutching your hand that was on his chest. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart under your palm.

Six.

Sam called your name, and nothing was more important. You stood up, heart clenched in anticipation. 

“I need,” he took a deep breath. “I need you to know.”

Five.

“Need to know what, Sam?” a cry escaped your lungs. 

“That it’s always been you,” he smiled sadly, voice barely heard over the chaos. “It was always gonna be you.”

It was odd, the way the heat rushed to your cheeks. The way your own heart beat twice, thrice as fast than it already was. You could almost let the world around you fade away. There was only Sam.

He spoke again, a little louder, a little braver, “You know that, right?”

Four.

“I know,” you tried to stifle your sobs. His admission hung in the air, filling your lungs with everything that was him. He loved you, and you always knew. 

“That’s my girl,” he kept smiling, determined to make sure that that was the last thing you saw. He didn’t want you to remember his death. He just wanted you to remember him. 

Sam knew why you didn’t say it, and it was for the same reason he did. It was better this way. Saying those three words would set things in stone, and especially now that he was seconds away from his death, he didn’t see the point of hurting you that much more.

Three.

Michael returned, a wave of unseen energy washing over you and Dean at his arrival. His anger distorted Adam’s young face. Panic overtook the anger, however, when he noticed just how close Sam was from jumping off the edge.

Two.

Sam closed his eyes, letting gravity pull him in. Michael screamed, rushing over to stop Sam from falling in. For a split-second, you feared the worst would come to pass. That Michael would save Sam and just resume his world-ending battle with Lucifer.

Sam’s eyes shot open when Michael’s hands tried to get him away from the pit but immediately, his gaze flickered over to you.

You, with the pain of a thousand lifetimes weighing on you, and the cuts and bruises and tears to show for it.

You, with the laughter that pulled him out of every nightmare on the days when his own mind wouldn’t let him rest.

You, with the proud, contagious smile after every hilariously bad joke, all because you wanted to see him smile, too.

His heart was yours, perhaps it had been since the beginning, but Sam knew one thing: this world was better with you in it.

With all the strength he could muster, he grabbed Michael by the lapel of Adam’s jacket, and pulled him into the pit. 

Sam was gone.

One.

When the pit closed up and left nothing but the Four Horsemen’s rings behind, you forced yourself to move away from Dean and approach the rings, kneeling by the spot where the pit just was. The world was safe again, though you didn’t know how long that would last. The grass was soft under the palm of your hand, as if there wasn’t a massive doorway to hell there just moments prior. You let yourself cry; to truly pour your heart out for someone who wouldn’t be able to hear it.

You would never have another morning coffee run with him or another all-nighter spent on researching monster lore. No more pop culture debates or stitching up each other’s wounds. You would never make him smile, ruffle his hair, or hold his hand again, nor would you feel him keeping an eye on you while you slept. 

Since before you hunted your first monster, Sam had been by your side. Now that you didn’t have him, it felt as though you weren’t a whole person. Like your very soul had been torn apart and its pieces were lost in the wind, never to be complete again.

Castiel returned, seemingly resurrected by none other than God Himself, and immediately helped Dean and Bobby get back up on their feet, all shiny and new. When he walked over to you, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek and heal all your wounds, you moved away. Your face was littered with small cuts from being thrown to the side by Lucifer, and you were sure there would be a massive bruise on your back from the impact.

You still refused to be healed. 

“Let it be,” you told Cas quietly. He frowned, hesitant to heed your request, but he obliged anyway.

Seconds. It only took seconds for you to lose everything. You didn’t know what you were feeling; if only there was a word, any word, for you to explain to Dean, Cas, maybe Bobby, the way you felt everything and nothing at the same time.

Truth be told, you were lucky to have only lost one person, but the lingering question in your mind was why did it have to be the person who meant everything to you? There was no answer, and the silence was the worst of it. Sam wasn’t there to tell you that he’s okay, and he won’t be able to ever again. Your injuries ached. You almost welcomed the discomfort, desperate for anything to keep you grounded.

A large hand rested on your shoulder. It was Dean. You shared a look with him, a silent exchange of “I’m sorry” and “I’m here” to each other. In your grief, it was easy to forget that Dean had lost his baby brother, just as you had lost the love of your life. Moments later, Bobby stood beside the two of you. Three people brought together in grief that they weren’t sure they could ever recover from. You knew then and there, that you’d spend the rest of your life picking up the tiny little pieces of your heart, trying to be okay. Because that’s what Sam would’ve wanted.

You would never know so many things. The pain he’d go through. The fact that as he fell into the darkness, white-hot flames burning his flesh, he thought of you. Poked and prodded, stabbed and skinned, broken and put back together just to be broken again. What Sam knew, even if you didn’t, was that he’d make this same choice again and again because he knew you would be okay.

Sam Winchester died, and it came as easy to him as loving you.

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural #dean winchester #jared padalecki #reader insert

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Regret

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Tribrid!Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~5.3k

Warnings: major angst, no humanity!reader, forced turned into a vampire and werewolf, feeling betrayed, heartbreak

Request by anon: Hey Jordan can i request a imagine based on No Humanity Hope Mikaelson? Where the reader is a tribrid and half angel daughter of Michael or Lucifer and is dating Dean and Sam and for someone reason she chose to turn off her humanity and her boyfriends trying to she became herself again?

Summary: You're the first of your kind and the only one of your kind. Michael created you to help create new angels without asking if that's what you want to do. In order to make new angels, you have to fully become a tribrid, and you're only a witch. You don't want to turn but Michael makes it so you don't have a choice.

Square Filled: holy oil (2019) for @heavenandhellbingo

Author’s Note: the anon asked for the reader to be dating both sam and dean, but i just made it for sam!

x

Heaven is slowly breaking down and your dad is doing everything he can to prevent it from completely collapsing on itself. After Metatron kicked all the angels out, Michael got out of the cage and took over command. Most of the remaining angels have turned back over to Michael but there have been a handful who want to rebel. He has been tracking every single angel not on his side and getting rid of them.

Michael has one of those angels in Heaven tied up while you’re sitting sideways on your throne with your phone in hand.

“I’m giving you one chance to come clean. All I need are the names of the angels in the rebellion. Do you really want to go down for their mistakes?”

“Michael, please. I don’t know anything. They don’t tell me what they’re doing or who is on their team. I already told you everyone I know.”

“That’s not good enough for me. This is a good teaching moment, Y/N. I’ll show you what happened to angels who don’t deliver.” Michael looks back at you only to see you giggling like a schoolgirl on your phone. “Y/N!”

“What, I’m paying attention,” you say without looking up.

You and Sam Winchester have been dating for a few months and all you want to do is be near him. You’re in the “Honeymoon Phase” of your relationship. If your dad wasn’t such a strict person, you’d be back on Earth with Sam and Dean.

“Y/N!”

“What?” you gasp and finally look at him.

“You need to start paying attention. This is your legacy. This is who you’re meant to be so stop messing around with that Winchester and do what you were made to do.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

Michael glares at you and turns to the angel who thought he was going to get off scot-free. Michael grabs the holy oil and covers the angel with it. The lower-level angel pleads for his life but Michael has already lit the match. The angel screams as he burns alive, and your dad turns to you with a deadly glare.

“You knew what you were supposed to do the second you were created.”

Don’t you know it. He tells you all about your responsibilities every second he gets, and it’s pissing you off. You were created by his grace so you’re half angel, but he took the DNA of other monsters to create the perfect tribrid: vampire, witch, and werewolf. Both your werewolf and vampire genes are dormant so you’re only a half-witch, half-angel right now. If you were to die or kill someone, you’d activate the other parts of you.

You refuse to let that happen.

Michael created you this way since you’re meant to be so powerful that you can create other angels. If you don’t activate those other two parts of you, you can’t create new angels.

“You never let me forget it,” you sigh and sit upright.

“I am trying to make Heaven what it used to be. We are running on limited angels and if they all perish, Heaven will cease to exist.”

“Yeah, and the smart choice is to kill off more angels. I see where you’re coming from.”

“I am weeding out the bad so that only the good remains. What good is this place if we have rouge angels running amok here?”

You get up and put your phone in your back pocket.

“I am not interested in killing angels only to make new ones. I am not a killer. I am a witch who never wanted this. If you can figure out a way for me to make new angels without activating my other sides, I am all for that. I am not going to be your puppet in this sick game you’re playing. I can’t care if you’re my dad. I am not activating my other sides to become a full tribrid. Frankly, you can’t make me. Even without those sides, I’m still more powerful than you. Don’t let your arrogance be the death of you.”

You storm out of the room before he has a chance to say anything back to you. You don’t want to be here anymore. There is only one person who can make you feel better and he is on Earth. As soon as you land there, you immediately find him at some high school he and his brother were at while on a case.

Seeing Sam after all this time makes your heart flutter and your worries dissolve.

“Sam!” you grin.

“Y/N!” You run into his arms and cling to him for longer than necessary. “What are you doing here?”

“My dad pissed me off. I had to come see you.”

“We just got done with a case. We’re about to call it a night and head home tomorrow. I can get a separate room for us if you want to talk.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you smile. “Hi, Dean.

“Hey, kid. Don’t wear out Sammy like last time. I kind of need him,” he jokes.

“It’s not like that. Don’t be so crude.”

Dean found a relatively cheap motel to stay the night in but headed to the bar instead of his room. You and Sam got the conjoining room for yourselves, and you sit on the edge of the bed with a tired sigh.

“What’s going on? What did Michael do now?”

“He’s hell-bent on killing any angel who opposes him. Heaven is already struggling with the amount of angels now. He wants to kill off the bad so I can make more for him.”

“Make more? I thought only God could do that.”

“Michael made me with not only his grace but with the DNA of a witch, vampire, and werewolf. If I were to turn full Tribrid, I’d have enough power to create his angels. He wouldn’t need God.”

“What happened up there?” Sam asks and sits next to you.

“He was killing them. He wants me to activate my vampire and werewolf side. I’m not a killer, Sam. I don’t want this. I’ve never wanted this. Michael never cared about me. He only cares about what I can do for him. I don’t want to do this,” you sniffle.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” Sam pulls you closer so that you can cry against his chest. He doesn’t care if your tears stain his shirt. “He can’t force you to turn.”

“I’m afraid he might be able to. All I ever wanted was to be normal. I never wanted to hurt people,” you cry.

“You won’t. Look, Dean and I are really good at hiding from angels. We’re branded. Michael can’t find us. Stay with us for a while.” You pull away from him to look into his beautiful hazel eyes. “He won’t be able to find you.”

You don’t tell him that he would be able to find you. Michael is relentless. He will do anything to get what he wants, and that includes hurting Sam and Dean. Still, you don’t see the harm in staying with Sam for the night. 

Michael is seething with anger over your fight. He doesn’t know how to make you see that you need to do this for the greater good. All he ever wants is to remake Heaven into what it was before. He can’t do that without new angels. You’re the only one besides God who can make new angels, and it’s not like his dad is going to show up anytime soon to help.

The mess of the angel’s death has been cleaned from the room that Michael is pacing in. He doesn’t know how to make you see that turning full Tribrid is a good thing. The door to the throne room opens and Lucifer walks in apprehensively.

“Wow. The entirety of Heaven heard your fight.”

“She’s being a child. She’ll come around.”

“Will she? She was pretty adamant on staying out of this one.”

“We need new angels, Lucifer. Dad’s not winning any ‘Father of the Year’ awards. We can’t rely on him to help us.”

“I agree,” Lucifer shrugs.

“Maybe I’ve been too harsh on her.”

“No, don’t give me that sympathy bullshit. She is the only one who can make new angels, right? Force her to turn. Force her to help.”

“She’d hate me.”

“As if she doesn’t already,” Lucifer scoffs. “The way I see it,  you got two options. Force her to turn and help make new angels or kill off the ones who rebel, leaving only a handful of angels to keep Heaven running. One of them gets you what you want.”

Michael stares at his younger brother in thought. You were created for one purpose and one purpose only. He hates to take away your choice but this is more urgent than your precious free will.

“What do I have to do?” Michael asks and Lucifer grins.

Lucifer tells Michael his diabolical plan which the older brother isn’t too fond of but knows it’s necessary.  Both of them go down to Earth to gather what they need. Lucifer gathers two burly humans who want nothing more than to be angels in Heaven while Michael gets two of his most trusted angels.

“What will you have us do, Lucifer?” one of the humans asks.

Lucifer grips the left shoulder of one of the men and the right shoulder of the second man so that their attention is solely on the archangel.

“Stan, you’re going to let Y/N kill you. You’re going to do whatever it takes until she kills you. Elijah, you’re going to kill Y/N and let her feed on you until you die. Only until your missions are completed, you’ll be allowed in Heaven as my brother’s trusted angels.”

Michael doesn’t tell them that he can’t make them into angels. Only you can do that but that’s neither here nor there at this point.

“I won’t let you down,” Stan says.

“I know you won’t.”

“You two,” Michael says to the two angels, “are going to make sure Sam and Dean aren’t going to be in the way. Do what you have to do to make sure they don’t interfere.”

“Yes, sir,” one of the angels nods.

Michael hates it came to this but if this is the only way you’ll have enough power to help, then so be it.

You gave yourself an extra day to be with Sam and Dean before you have to go back to Heaven and face your dad again. You’re hoping this space would have cleared his head a bit. If you work hard, you might come up with a solution that makes you powerful enough to create new angels without activating your other sides.

Sam and Dean stopped at a bar on the way back to the Bunker to hang out and let off steam before channeling through the last portion of the drive. Sam is teaching you how to play pool against Dean who isn’t going easy on you.

“Come on, Dean, can’t you be a bit more easygoing?” Sam asks.

“No, don’t do that. Let him go as hard as he wants. It’ll hurt more when I beat him,” you smirk.

“You got jokes, huh? Alright, bring it on,” Dean smirks and racks the balls.

People come and go from the bar all night until there aren’t a lot of people left. Whoever is still inside are the stragglers who try to get as much alcohol as they can before being kicked out, and those who have nowhere to go.

You two play as much as you can before the manager announces the bar is closing. You three pack up your things and leave the bar, passing by two men who are watching you.

“I told you, Dean. Don’t be too cocky.”

“Yeah, yeah, it won’t happen next time.”

You’re about halfway to the car when you hear someone behind you make a crude comment about you.

“Nice ass, sweetheart.”

You stop and turn to face them.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Come home with us. We’re much more fun.”

Sam is about to step in when you put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“I got this,” you smile and turn to the men with the same smile. “I think you’re drunk. Turn around, go home, and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

“Now why would I want to do that? Hard to forget someone with an ass like that.”

Sam and Dean are about to step in when two more men show up and grab them. Angels. Your dad must have sent them. Wow, he really doesn’t take no for an answer.

“Okay. I get it. Michael is punking me, right? Testing me to see what I’d do? I’m not doing it. Go home before you get hurt.” You turn to face the angels when Stan grabs your shoulder and yanks you back. You swiftly face Stan and grab his collar in anger. You might be sweet and soft for Sam but you have your dad’s temper. “I said beat it before you get hurt.” You shove Stan off you and turn to the angels with fire in your eyes. “If you knew what was best for you, you’d let go of them.”

Before they have a chance to say anything back, you’re pushed violently to the side. If you didn’t have quick reflexes, you’d be on your ass in seconds. Stan sees the fire in your eyes but doesn’t back down from you.

“What are you going to do about it? A small thing like you is gonna get herself a bruise for talking back like that.”

Okay, now you’re pissed off. You stalk toward him and land a punch to his face, and he goes flying into the side of the nearest car.

“You were saying?”

Stan growls and charges at you, hell-bent on taking complete advantage of you. He’s a much bigger man than you with muscles packed on but he doesn’t have angelic grace running through his veins like you do. You dodge every one of his attempts to hit you, you make sure he doesn’t get a good hit in, all the while you are landing every punch to the side of his face and his stomach.

“I’m warning you now, man, walk away while you still can,” you growl.

“Nah. I’ll have my friends here force your little boyfriend to watch while I take every bit of innocence I know you have swimming in there,” he smirks.

If Michael is behind this, he wants you to get angry but there is something about the disgusting yellow teeth that Stan has that is making you see red. You charge at Stan and slam him into the side of the car as hard as you can, and the sickening crack of his skull is enough to put everyone into silence.

He falls to the ground with blood pooling out of his head, and you stare at him with wide, fearful eyes.

“Let me go!” Sam struggles against the angel.

“No, no, no, no,” you mutter and get on your knees next to Stan. “Don’t be dead. Do not be dead. Please don’t be dead.” Tears are streaming down your face as you check his pulse but it’s clear that Stan is no longer alive. “No! Please wake up!”

Almost immediately, you can feel your body begin changing since your werewolf side is activated. You hunch over Stan’s body and yell out in agonizing pain. It’s not a full moon but your body needs to feel the effects of your werewolf side since your DNA is changing.

“Y/N! Don’t touch her!” Sam cries out.

“You don of a bitch!” Dean struggles.

You look up at Sam with bright yellow eyes that hold so much pain. One little mistake and your entire life is changing. You look back down at the ground and yell out in pain once more, not paying attention to Elijah who is sneaking up on you.

“Y/N! Behind you!”

Sam can barely get the sentence out before Elijah shoves a knife into your back and into your heart. You gasp as the yellow in your eyes dies out. You’re not a vampire but because you had vampire DNA when you were created, you have vampire blood running through your body constantly. If you die with vampire blood in your system, you become one.

Maybe that was the goal all along.

You fall to the ground over Stan’s body. It’s then that the angels let go of Sam and Dean. They’ve fulfilled their mission so they fly out of there as soon as possible so as not to face the Winchester’s wrath. Elijah backs away from your dead body as Sam rushes over to you.

“No, Y/N! What the hell did you do?” Sam yells at Elijah while cradling your body.

“Who the hell are you?” Dean demands to know.

“I’ve fulfilled my mission,” Elijah says in a trance-like state.

“Dean, what do I do? She’s not breathing,” Sam cries and looks up at his older brother with tears in his eyes. 

Dean doesn’t know what to do either. He’s never had to deal with something like this.

“We gotta get her to a hospital. They’ll know what to do. They’ll fix her.”

Sam is about to scoop you into his arms when you wake with a gasp. Elijah walks over to the broken glass from the car that Stan was slammed into and grabs a big piece without no one noticing him.

“Y/N!”

You moan out in pain and roll onto the street so that you’re the only thing holding yourself up. Your breathing is heavy, your stomach is in knots, and your head is pounding.

“God, I’m so hungry,” you groan.

“What the hell is going on?” Dean mutters.

“You two gotta get out of here.”

“No, we’re not leaving you,” Sam says.

“Sam, I’m not joking.” Stan’s blood is making your head spin fast and you're not sure you can hold back any longer. “Get the hell out of here.”

“No. I want to help you. Tell me what will make this better.”

“This will.” Elijah cuts his neck with the broken glass and you look at him with deadly eyes. Fresh blood is so much different than dead blood. “Come on, kill me. Kill me so I can die and be with Michael.”

You’re already on your feet but pause when you hear your dad’s name.

“What did you say?”

“My mission is to kill you only to die by your hand. Michael will accept me as an angel in Heaven.”

His mission? Michael sent them? You knew that much, but he really forced these men to trigger your vampire and werewolf side? The smell of blood is too strong for you to resist so you rush over to him and sink your teeth into his neck. By drinking human blood, you have completed your transition into a vampire, thus turning yourself into a full Tribrid.

You drink every last drop Elijah has to give you and he drops to the ground, dead.

“Y/N?” Sam asks carefully and stands up.

You turn to the brothers with blood dripping down your face and tears in your eyes.

“He forced me to turn. He forced me to be this monster after I told him I wanted nothing to do with this. I never wanted to be this.”

You sob loudly at the fact that your own father betrayed your trust like this. Your emotions are heightened so when you get pissed, you’re in a vengeful rage. When you get sad, your heart breaks. You smash your fist into the window of a parked car but it doesn’t work to get the frustrations out of you.

You go around smashing windows and denting every car you see but that doesn’t make you feel any better.

“Whoa! Y/N, calm down! We’re here to help you but you need to calm down,” Dean tries.

“Baby, I know you’re feeling hurt right now but you need to calm down. Use us. Let us help you,” Sam begs.

“I can’t handle this!” You fall to your knees and cry loudly. “He betrayed me. He took everything from me.”

“I know. I know you’re feeling hurt but I’m right here to help you. Don’t give up hope now. We’ll get Michael but you need to calm down first,” Sam says.

He wants to bring you into his arms but he doesn't know how you’re going to react to that. So for now, he’ll keep his distance.

“I don’t want to feel this way. Please make it stop,” you cry.

You’re not sure how vampires can manipulate their feelings. You’re not sure how one turns off their humanity. Is it a choice? Is it a thought? Does your body choose for you? Being a vampire is so overwhelming that it hurts. The betrayal you’re feeling from your own father hurts you like you’ve never hurt before. He knew you didn’t want to be a full Tribrid. All he wants is to use you for his own gain and nothing else.

Your body does what it needs to survive and makes the decision for you.

“Just come with us back to the Bunker. It’ll be okay.”

“Yes. It will be.” You look up at Sam and Dean with your vampire face--veins underneath your eyes, yellow eyes, and both sets of fangs out. “You just won’t be part of it.”

You use your vampire speed and run over to Sam before biting into his neck. You don’t want to kill him so you take enough to render him unconscious. Dean is no match for you but he tries to fight you off. You give him the same treatment and watch as both boys are knocked out on the street.

There is only one place you want to be and it’s not on Earth.

If your dad wanted to turn you into a tribrid so bad, you’re going to show him what a mistake that was. You’re going to make him regret it.

You step foot into Heaven and immediately know something is off. Michael knows you’re here. He knows Stan and Elijah died. He knows the mission is complete. He knows you’re a tribrid. So where the hell is he?

“Yoo hoo, anybody home? Big bad vampire out here,” you announce loudly.

You walk the halls until you come to the throne room. You slam the doors open with your magic and see Michael and Lucifer standing in the middle of the room. Both of them see the blood on your face. Both of them know you’re a full Tribrid now.

“Y/N, I didn’t hear you come in,” Michael says.

“Cut the bullshit, Michael,” you growl and walk closer to them. Lucifer does the smart thing and backs away. Luckily, you’re not here for him… yet. “You did this to me. You sent those men after me and forced me to turn full Tribrid. Now you have to pay the consequences. I told you I didn’t want to be this way but you didn’t listen. You want a loyal army of angels? You won’t live to see the next sunrise.”

Michael puts some distance between the two of you and begins to beg for his life.

“I only did this because I needed you this way. You can help follow through with my plans--our plans.”

“I never wanted this!” you yell at him. “You forced me into someone I never wanted to be!” He hides behind the throne but you use your magic and shatter it to pieces. “There is nowhere on Heaven, Earth, and Hell where you can hide that I won’t find you! You never loved me! You never wanted me! You only wanted what I could do for you!”

“No, that’s not true.”

You walk over to Michale and grip his throat tightly. He claws at your hand but he’s not strong enough to get you off him.

“Guess what, Dad, turning me was a big mistake. You’re going to die and never see how I rip Heaven apart one angel at a time until I am the only one standing. I’ll make new angels but ones that will stand for everything you don’t.”

You see Lucifer disappear at a moment’s notice out of the corner of your eye. He’s going into hiding but you’ll find him eventually and drain the life out of him like you’re going to do with Michael.

Your eyes shine bright white and allow your magic to fully encase Michael. You’re not even sure how to use your powers but you let your emotions do the talking for you. You let go of Michael but he falls to his knees when your magic starts pulling his life force from him. Grey and white smoke comes from his body to your mouth as you breathe in his power.

“Y/N, please don’t do this,” Michael begs. “I never wanted this for you. I’m so sorry.”

“You should have thought of that before you sent them to kill me.”

“It was Lucifer’s idea!”

Huh, looks like he’s dying next.

“Thanks for the tip. You’re still dying anyway.”

When the last bit of smoke leaves Michael’s body, he drops to the ground, dead. Lucifer is going to be one hard person to track, especially since you don’t have control over your powers yet, but he’ll die at the hands of you eventually.

You’re not finished yet. You were serious when you told him you were going to make an army of angels all on your own. You have to get rid of the current selection first, starting with the rebellion and ending with Castiel.

“Any news on where she might be?” Sam asks his brother and Castiel.

The wound on his neck hasn’t fully healed from when you bit him. Castiel offered to heal it for him like he did Dean but Sam wants it there as a reminder. He saw the look in your eyes. He saw how betrayed you felt through the pain in your eyes. He doesn’t know much about vampires or their humanity, but he knows when you’ve flipped the switch. 

You're such a loving and caring person that he was shocked to see no hope in your eyes.

“If I had to guess, she’s in Louisiana.”

“If you had to guess?”

“She’s killing angels off one by one starting from the east coast and making her way to the west coast. I hear them over angel radio. She’s leaving no angel alive.”

“She’s lost hope,” Dean says.

“No, she’s hurt. Michael betrayed her trust and turned her into something she never wanted to be. Her emotions are heightened and she’s letting her pain guide her. She knows Michael wanted nothing more than to rebuild Heaven with new angels. She’ll make new angels but it won’t be for Michael,” Sam comes to your defense.

“That still doesn’t excuse her slaughtering all angels.”

“I’m not saying it does. All I’m saying is don’t give up on her. She’s under all that hurt and pain. It’s the only thing keeping her going right now.”

“How are we going to find her? She can kill hundreds without us knowing and already be moving onto the next state,” Dean asks.

Castiel is about to answer when he gets a splitting headache. He puts both hands to his head and leans over the desk as he waits for this to pass. Sam and Dean look at each other in confusion but allow the angel to gather himself before questioning him.

Angel radio statics in his ear before he hears a deadly calm voice.

“Prepare the Winchesters or don’t, but I’m coming for you next, Castiel. You're the only angel left standing, and I won’t let the Old World conflict with the New World. Michael and Lucifer are dead. Tell those Winchesters if they don’t want to end up like you, they won’t get in my way.”

“Cas, you okay?” Dean asks.

“I don’t think we need to find Y/N, she’s gonna find us. She’s coming for me,” Castiel sighs.

“What? What did she say?”

“Michael and Lucifer are dead. I’m the only angel left. She wants to start over. She’s coming for me.”

“We’ll be prepared,” Dean says.

“Dean, you don’t get it. She killed Michael and Lucifer, two of Heaven’s most powerful angels.  How am I to protect myself against her?”

“You have us,” Sam says. “We’ll get through to her. We’re not going to let you die.”

The Bunker is the safest place on Earth against monsters but it’s no match for you. Sam and Dean are waiting with Castiel as you expected but they’re outside instead of inside. Maybe they don’t want you destroying their home but you don’t care. You’ll kill Castiel tonight.

“I hope you know I’ll kill you two to get to him,” you state.

“Then you’re going to have to kill us,” Sam declares.

You see the wound on Sam’s neck from where you bit him and you pause. No, you can’t think about that, or else your entire world will come crumbling down. You raise your hands and Sam and Dean go flying halfway across the field. Castiel begins running at you; you have to give him credit for his bravery.

He slides an angel blade out of his coat sleeve and swings at you when he gets to you, and you put your hand up to block the attack. The angel blade slices your palm and you hiss in pain. You blast Castiel back from you and fling the angle blade out of his hands so he can’t use it on you. You produce your own with your magic and stalk toward him like he’s your prey and you’re a deadly predator.

You raise the angel blade to bring down on him but Sam jumps into action before you can.

“No!”

Sam runs to you and fits himself between you and Castiel so that if you were to bring the blade down, it’d strike Sam instead.

“No, Sammy! Don’t do that!” Dean groans.

“Don’t do it, Y/N,” Sam begs. “I know you’re still in there. Where is the woman I love?”

“Get out of my way, Sam, or I will kill you.”

“Then you’re going to have to kill me because I am not moving. This isn’t who you are.” You have a better view of Sam’s neck wound and remember the moment you bit him. You’d never do anything to hurt him. Tears line your eyes and Sam realizes that you didn't turn your humanity off. You’re acting out of hurt and betrayal because you don’t know how to yet control your emotions. “Y/N, look at who you’re about to kill. It’s Cas. He’s family.”

“God, I can’t do this,” you sob and drop the angel blade. “Sam, it hurts. Please make it stop.” Sam immediately brings you into his arms and you collapse onto the ground in a fit of tears. “I can’t do this.”

“You’re not alone, Y/N. I will help you through this. You’re going to be okay.”

“I don’t want to be this person,” you sob.

“I know. You won’t be this person. You’ll do and be better. You’re not alone.”

Sam doesn’t know how to make you feel better in this moment but he does provide a comforting arm around you. Your sobs are heartbreaking and can be heard for miles around you but you know this is the first step in healing.

And that’s all you want to do. Heal.

x

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