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plasticflowersinahistorycemetery · 2 months ago

Text

unfaithful

one-shot

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Sam's Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: It's been the same almost every night since Dean left. You wander the halls of the bunker, feet always carrying you to his closed door. Only tonight? It's open.

Warnings: 18+!, language, angst, cheating, mocking, guilt, pining, smut (dirty talk, clitoral stimulation, fingering, p in v, ass-play kinda, gagging), I think that's all.

Word Count: 4,410

It starts with silence. The kind that swells in old, haunted places—thick with ghosts, thicker still with the things left unsaid.

The bunker was never quiet when Dean was alive. Even asleep, he filled the space—snoring down the hall, boots echoing off stone, laughter ricocheting off walls like a warm, familiar gunshot. But now? Now it's just Sam.

Sam and the weight of all that's missing.

He sleeps restlessly beside you, long limbs tangled in the sheets, one arm slung over your stomach like it's instinct. You've been his anchor for years, since before Lucifer, before Ruby, before the bunker was even carved into your lives. His grief is a living thing now—tucked into his spine, sewn into the dark crescents under his eyes. He doesn't cry. Sam doesn't do that. He burns. Quietly. Patiently. Like a fuse with nowhere to go.

And you love him. God, you do.

You love the way he softens when you brush his hair back. The way his voice cracks when he says your name like it still means safety. The way his fingers find yours in the dark, like maybe you can hold each other together.

But you haven't been sleeping. Not since Dean. Not really.

Because love isn't always enough to quiet the hum beneath your skin. The one that started when the bunker went still. When Dean's door slammed shut. When Sam stopped saying his name with any emotion because the syllable hurt too much on his tongue.

It's been a couple months, maybe more, since Dean disappeared. Since the Mark swallowed him whole and left Sam behind to dig through the wreckage.

He won't call it that. Disappeared. He says gone, like he's coming back. Like he's late, not lost.

But every time Sam leaves to follow another lead—a demon sighting here, a body drained dry there—he comes back heavier. Shoulders hunched. Jaw clenched. A little more wrecked than the time before.

The last time, he came through the war room doors with his arm in a sling and blood crusted in his hair. He wouldn't look at you when you pressed your hands to his chest and asked what happened. Just muttered something about a crossroads deal gone sideways and that he "got what he needed."

You didn't ask what that meant. Not because you didn't want to know. Because you weren't sure you could carry it.

So you kissed his temple and made him tea and sat beside him in bed, letting his weight lean into yours until the tension bled out of his body. He was asleep in minutes.

He always sleeps when he's home now. And you? You stay awake.

Because when he's gone, the bunker is all stone and silence and the sound of your own spiralling thoughts. And when he's here, it's somehow worse. Because you can feel how far away he is—even with his arm around you, even with his head on your chest.

He used to laugh more. God, he used to laugh.

Now, he only talks about Dean. His voice tight. Raw. Like the name alone is a wound.

And you love him. You love him with everything you are. But love doesn't keep the walls from closing in. It doesn't stop your skin from prickling every time you pass Dean's room. It doesn't erase the way your heart beat different when Dean was still here—messy and loud and impossible.

It just makes you feel worse for noticing.

You don't mean to get up. You try, god, you try to just lie there, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of Sam's breathing beside you—soft and even, his body warm under the blankets, pressed into your side like he knows the second you leave, he'll feel it.

But still, you slide out from under his arm like a ghost. Still, you pull his flannel off the back of the chair and slip it over your bare shoulders. Still, you pad barefoot across the bunker floor, silent and aching, like something inside you is pacing the walls of your ribcage.

It's not that you're not tired. It's that you can't rest. Not with all this noise inside your head.

You make your rounds like you always do—through the library, past the war room. Everything's dim, quiet, lit only by the soft golden wash of overhead lamps left on low. Books you've already read sit open-faced on the table. A mug of tea long gone cold. Nothing helps.

Your feet move on their own. They always do. And you know where they're taking you. You always know.

Past the weapons room. Past the corridor where the lights flicker just a little when you breathe too hard. And then—

There it is.

Dean's door. Always shut, still sealed like a tomb. Except tonight, it's not. It's cracked open, just barely. Just enough.

You stop in your tracks, throat going tight. Your heart pounds like it's got something to say—but you don't want to hear it. You should go back to bed. You should lie down with Sam and pretend you didn't notice. Pretend you don't always end up here, standing in front of the last place Dean touched.

But the truth is...

You were always going to stop.

Even when he was alive, there was something about Dean that pulled you off course. Something gravitational. It wasn't like it was with Sam—steady, soft, true. Dean was a fire you kept your hands from, even when your skin ached for the burn.

You never said it out loud. Not even to yourself. Because to name it would've been to shatter everything you'd built. And you loved Sam. You still do. That's the worst part.

But Dean... Dean was something else entirely.

Something dark and sharp-edged and dangerous. Something you only let yourself want in your dreams—the kind that leave you waking up gasping, thighs clenched, shame curling in your gut like smoke.

You thought the ache would die with him. You thought grief would overwrite the hunger. But here you are, standing in front of his door again.

And tonight, it's open.

Your hand moves before your mind can catch up. Fingertips against wood. A breath held in your throat. The door groans quietly as it opens wider beneath your touch.

And he's there. Standing in the middle of the room like he never left.

Dean.

But not.

His hair is perfect, of course—flawless in that infuriating, tousled way like he rolled out of bed smug. His skin is golden under the low light, his jaw shadowed with stubble. A tight red shirt clings to him like a second skin, sleeves rolled to his elbows, forearms flexed like he's waiting for something.

But it's the look on his face that stops your heart dead in your chest. That grin. That slow, smug, shit-eating grin. It's Dean, and it isn't. His eyes are darker. Not black, but close—gleaming with something feral. Something cruel.

And he's leering at you. At your bare legs. At the way you're clutching Sam's flannel closed around your body like it's armour. Like it's going to protect you from him.

"Lookin' for me, sweetheart?"

His voice is a low drawl, thicker than you remember, honey poured over poison.

You can't move. Can't speak. You just... gawk at him.

Because what the fuck?

Sam has been tearing the earth apart looking for him. Nearly died chasing after scraps and whispers and demon tracks. He's got a sling on his arm and bruises he doesn't talk about and a look in his eyes like something inside him is breaking, and—

And Dean's just here. Standing in his room like it's a Tuesday. Looking you over like you're dinner. Like he's already decided how this ends.

"Cat got your tongue?" He murmurs, cocking his head, eyes dragging slowly down your body. "That mine?" He adds, chin-jerking toward the flannel you've pulled tight over your chest. "Or Sam's?"

You swallow hard, voice lost somewhere between your ribs and your gut.

He steps forward. One slow stride. Then another. And the closer he gets, the clearer it becomes—this isn't the Dean you remember.

This Dean doesn't carry guilt like a second skin. He's not breaking apart under the weight of his choices. No—this Dean is whole. Whole and dark and dangerous. And from the way he's looking at you now? He's starving.

Your voice slips out of you like it's been trapped behind your teeth for weeks.

"...Dean?"

He exhales like you just gave him life. His eyes flutter closed for a second, jaw flexing, that awful, beautiful grin widening.

"Fuck," he whispers, almost to himself. "There's that voice I missed."

When he opens his eyes again, they're molten. A furnace. Locked on you.

"You have any idea how many times I imagined you saying my name just like that?" He says, low and lazy, taking another step closer. "'Cept maybe you're on your knees. Maybe you're spread over Baby's hood. Or—fuck, maybe you're sittin' right in Sam's lap while I'm—"

"Dean."

It comes out more like a warning than anything else, but your grip on the flannel tightens. Your knuckles are white.

"What the hell is going on?" You whisper, pulse pounding in your throat. "You're alive? Where the—how are you here? Sam's been—he's been looking for you, he's been—"

"Oh, I know," Dean cuts in, eyes glittering. "Sammy's been very busy. Playing hero, getting himself all bruised up just for little old me." He steps close enough now that you can smell him—soap, leather, whiskey, and something wrong. Something deep and sulphurous beneath the surface. "And where's his sweet little girlfriend while he's out savin' the world?"

You don't answer. Can't.

Dean's gaze drops to your mouth. Lingers there. Then drags slowly back up.

"Home alone. Wrapped up in his flannel. Lookin' like a fuckin' gift."

"Dean, stop—"

"Why?" He murmurs, cocking his head. "You're standing in my doorway, baby. Wearing his shirt but lookin' at me like you wanna drop it and let me ruin you right here."

You stumble back a step, but he follows, slow, stalking. A predator playing with his food.

"I mean, shit," he drawls. "You don't think I noticed how you looked at me back then? All those years? You were so good, weren't you? Loyal little thing. Always kept your legs crossed, always trying to keep your eyes on Sam."

He steps close enough to touch you, but he doesn't. Not yet.

"But I bet you wondered," he whispers, voice like smoke curling around your ears. "Bet you laid awake more than once, wondering what it'd be like to get a taste of the bad brother."

Your breath catches, and Dean smirks.

"Lemme guess. You'd ride Sam's cock like a good girl, but you were thinkin' about me. About how I'd make you beg for it. About how I'd tear you apart and leave you a mess on the sheets. Don't lie. I can see it all over your fuckin' face."

"Dean, stop," you say again, but your voice is thinner this time. Weak. You don't sound convincing, and he knows it.

"Oh, you want me to stop?" He purrs, finally reaching up, brushing your jaw with the backs of his fingers, so gently it makes your knees tremble. "Or you want me to drag you into this room, bend you over that chair, and fuck you like you need it?"

You're shaking. You hate him. You love him. You hate yourself for standing there. And still—

You don't run.

Dean's fingers brush your jaw again, and when you don't flinch—don't recoil, don't run—he grins. That grin. Wicked and slow. Like he knew this would happen eventually.

"Atta girl," he purrs, voice gravel-thick with satisfaction.

Then he grabs you.

Not rough, not yet—but with enough force to make your breath stutter. His hand closes around your wrist, dragging you across the threshold and into the dim, still room that smells like leather and bourbon and the faintest trace of gun oil.

You don't fight him. You should. But your feet move where he leads. Right into the lion's den. And then he glances at the door behind you, fingers tightening ever so slightly on your wrist like he's weighing something. Considering.

Then he looks back at you with a raised brow, lips twitching.

"...Fuck it." He lets the words roll off his tongue like a dare. "The door stays open."

Your heart lurches in your chest.

"What—"

"I wanna see if you can keep that pretty little mouth shut," he says, stepping in close, his breath hot against your cheek. "Wanna know if you can take my cock and not wake Sammy up down the hall. That sound good, sweetheart?"

You shake your head—somewhere between no and I don't know—but he's already walking backward, pulling you with him.

"You really shouldn't be here," he says, faux-regret dripping from his voice. "But fuck me, you look so goddamn good in his shirt. Like you want me to wreck you while you're still wearing it."

He backs up to the desk and spins the chair around behind him.

"C'mon," he murmurs, low and filthy. "Over the chair, baby. Let's get you nice and bent for me."

You hesitate. Just for a second.

But then he tugs the flannel—Sam's flannel—just a little, exposing one shoulder, and hums like he's opening a present.

"Keep it on," he says, voice darker now. Rougher. "I wanna fuck you in his clothes. Wanna ruin you in the last thing he touched."

Your knees hit the chair. His hand is on the back of your neck now, guiding, not forcing—but firm enough you feel your breath stutter.

"Bend over," he whispers. "Hands on the seat. Ass up. That's it."

You're shaking. And he loves it. He kicks your legs apart gently with the side of his boot.

"There we go. Look at that. That's my girl."

You feel the flannel shift as he runs his fingers down your spine. His palm smooths over your ass, slow and proprietary.

"All these years playin' house with Sammy. Being good. Loyal. And all it took was one look at me tonight, and now here you are—wet and desperate and ready to get fucked like the filthy little secret you are."

He leans in, breath at your ear.

"You gonna let me ruin you, baby?"

You break before he even touches you.

Tears spill without warning, hot and fast, sliding down your cheeks as you grip the edge of the chair. Your body's trembling. With shame. With want. With everything you're too afraid to name.

Dean pauses. Then you hear his boots shift behind you. A second later, he's in front of you. Squatting down, one knee bent, his eyes catching yours beneath the curtain of your hair.

"Oh, baby," he coos, voice like silk dragged across a blade. He reaches out, thumb brushing your cheek, swiping away a tear.

Then he brings it to his mouth. Licks it clean.

"Cryin' already?" He murmurs, tilting his head. "That for me, sweetheart? Or for Sammy?"

You sniff, ashamed, eyes closing as another tear rolls free.

"There's no use in cryin'," Dean goes on, softer now. "You're getting what you've wanted for years."

He leans in, kisses the corner of your mouth, feather-light. Then your lips. You melt into it without meaning to. A broken whimper caught in your throat, your whole body pressing forward into the kiss like you need it.

He grins into your mouth. Smug. Knowing. And you hate him for it. But you don't pull away. When he finally draws back, he wipes your other cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"That's my girl," he whispers, and then—he's gone. He circles behind you again, hands dragging slowly down your back. "Flannel still on. Good."

Then you feel it—his fingers sliding beneath your panties, tugging them slowly down your thighs. He catches them just before they fall past your knees, lifts them to his face, inhales.

"Christ," he mutters, voice wrecked for a moment. "You smell like sin."

He folds them up, tucks them into the breast pocket of his red shirt like a souvenir.

"Mine now."

You whimper again, and he hums, pleased. A belt clinks open. Denim rustles a fraction. And then he's back—kneeling behind you this time. His hands spread your thighs wider, and then—

Oh god.

He sniffs you.

Right at the crease of your thigh, slow and obscene. Then his tongue drags a stripe up, hot and deliberate, until he's right at your centre.

He moans.

"Fuck."

Another kiss, soft and maddening, pressed to your clit like worship.

"You have no idea," he breathes against you. "How many nights I used to lie awake in that bed..."

He presses a finger inside. Slow. Deep. You choke on a gasp.

"...jerkin' myself raw, thinking about this pussy. About how sweet you'd sound begging me to ruin you."

The finger curls. You cry out—too loud—and he growls.

"Shhh. You wanna wake him up? Huh?"

You shake your head, clutching the chair like it's the only thing anchoring you to the earth.

"I'd come back from hunts all wound up and pissed off," he continues, voice ragged. "And you'd be there—wearin' your little shorts, leaning over the table with your mouth all smart and your ass lookin' like sin. And I'd be thinking about what you sound like when you come. How tight you'd feel clenching around my cock. What kinda mess you'd make."

He slips a second finger in. You cry out again—quieter this time. More desperate.

He grins against your thigh.

"Bet Sammy's never even made you come like this, huh?"

Dean's fingers pump into you slow and steady—just enough to make your thighs shake, but not enough to push you over. You bite your lip to hold back the sounds, forehead pressed to the seat of the chair, breath fogging the leather.

"You wanna wake him up?" Dean mutters, his voice low and tight as his fingers curl just right. "You wanna hear him walk down that hall and see you spread for me like a fuckin' whore?"

You gasp. Whimper. Shake your head.

"Didn't think so," he huffs. "Then keep your goddamn voice down."

He thrusts his fingers deeper, scissoring them inside you, tongue dragging along your inner thigh again like he's starved.

"Son of a bitch," he groans. "You're tight."

He fucks you with his hand like he means it, wet and obscene, the sound of it echoing off the stone walls of the bunker like a crime.

"Holy crap," he breathes out. "This is even better than I imagined. And trust me, sweetheart—I imagined it a lot."

He grazes your clit with his thumb, just a whisper of contact, and your whole body jolts.

"Shit, look at you," he laughs. "So fucking desperate. So goddamn wet for me. And in his shirt, too. That's real cute."

Your legs are trembling. You can feel it coiling in your belly—that tight, unbearable pressure.

You're gonna come.

"Dean—please—"

"Oh no, sweetheart," he cuts in, voice going sharp as he slows his pace to a crawl. "You don't get to come yet. Not unless you tell me what I wanna hear."

You shake your head, gasping. "What—what do you mean—?"

He leans in, lips brushing your ear, fingers curling inside you with cruel precision.

"You don't come," he says, low and commanding, "until you tell me you love me."

You freeze.

"Go on," he murmurs, breath hot. "Say it. Say you love me. Say it like you mean it."

"I—I can't—"

"Then I stop," he shrugs, withdrawing his fingers with a slick, obscene sound. You cry out, body clenching around nothing, so close you could scream.

"You don't wanna come that bad?" He taunts. "Guess I overestimated you."

"No," you breathe, desperate, eyes stinging again. "Please—please, Dean—"

"You think Sam would make you beg like this?" He growls, grinding his cock against your ass now through his boxers. "You think he'd know how to ruin you right? Like this?"

You moan, the friction almost enough to tip you over again, but not quite.

"Then say it."

He grips your hips hard, hissing under his breath. "Say you love me or I'm leaving you right here dripping and empty."

And you break.

"I love you," you sob. "Dean—I love you."

There's a beat of silence. Then—snap. His belt hits the floor.

"That's my fuckin' girl."

He's kicking his jeans off, tearing his boxers down, and then his cock is pressing against your soaked entrance, thick and hot and so fucking wrong.

He pushes in slow. Deliberate. Every inch feels like a sin you can't take back.

"Holy shit," he groans. "You really are tight."

You bury your face into the seat, choking on a cry, your entire body shaking.

"Take it," Dean hisses, hips rolling as he bottoms out. "Take all of it, baby. Fuckin' feel me."

He starts moving—hard and slow and deep. The chair rocks beneath you with every thrust, the open door behind you reminding you exactly how close this secret is to shattering.

"You feel that?" He pants. "Feel how deep I am? That's where I belong. That's mine. Always has been."

You're moaning now, helpless, face streaked with tears and pleasure.

"You keep clenching like that," he grits out, "I'm not gonna last long."

His hand tangles in your hair, pulling your head back as he thrusts into you harder, meaner.

"Bet you think about this every night now," he snarls. "Bet you go back to his bed with my cum dripping down your thighs and pretend you're still a good girl."

You scream into the leather, your body unraveling under his, fire licking up your spine.

"Come for me," he orders, voice raw. "Do it. Let go. Fuckingsay my name."

"Dean," you gasp. "Oh—god, Dean—"

You shatter.

And he doesn't stop.

You're sobbing into the chair now, blabbering incoherent pleas between the aftershocks, your thighs shaking violently as Dean keeps moving inside you—slower now, deeper, like he's savouring the feel of your body spasming around him.

"Fuck," he breathes, sweat beading at his temple, one hand still tangled in your hair, the other gripping your hip hard enough to bruise. "Look at you. Wrecked. Can't even talk right, can you?"

You let out a broken noise—somewhere between a whine and a sob.

He chuckles darkly. "Didn't think I'd fuck you stupid this fast."

His hand slides up, reaching into the pocket of his shirt—your panties, still warm from being tucked against his skin. He pulls them out, dangles them in front of your tear-soaked face like a prize.

"As much as I love these pretty little sounds," he murmurs, mocking sweetness dripping from every word, "I ain't ready for Sammy to come wanderin' in here asking why his girlfriend's whining like she's never had cock in her life."

He stuffs the panties into your mouth, slow and deliberate, pressing them past your lips with two fingers.

"There we go," he coos. "That's better. Nice and quiet."

You gag around the fabric, drooling, tears still leaking from the corners of your eyes—and Dean groans, hips stuttering at the sight.

"Jesus Christ, you look so good like this. Stuffed full'a me, mouth full of your own shame. Fuckin' perfect."

Then—he slows. Just a beat. Just enough to lean down and really ruin you.

One hand snakes between your cheeks, thumb pressing just under your tailbone, circling—until—

You jerk, whimpering around the fabric, eyes wide.

Dean laughs, low and cruel and utterly delighted.

"Sensitive, huh?" He murmurs, pressing the pad of his thumb just inside your ass, keeping you right where he wants you. "Don't squirm, sweetheart. Gotta keep you nice and still while I fill you up."

His thrusts pick up again—harder now. Meaner. The wet slap of skin on skin fills the room, echoing off the walls like a fucking dirge.

"Been waitin' years for this," he pants, voice going ragged. "Years of watching you play house with my fucking brother—dressed up like his little good girl, never lookin' twice at me."

Another thrust. Your whole body jolts.

"But I knew. I knew what was underneath. Knew you'd fall apart the second I touched you. And now look at you—soaked, stuffed, fucked out, cryin' into a goddamn chair while Sammy dreams down the hall."

He's getting close. You can feel it. His rhythm falters, hips jerking.

"You're mine now," he growls, biting out the words like a vow. "Don't care how many years you've been with him. Don't care what he means to you. You let me in, baby. That's all I needed."

One more thrust. Two. And then—he groans, low and brutal and satisfied, hips grinding as he comes deep inside you.

He holds you there—panting, trembling, pulsing around him—thumb still snug between your cheeks, panties stuffed in your mouth, Sam's flannel hanging off your shoulders like a scarlet fucking letter.

"Goddamn," he breathes, resting his forehead against your spine for a beat, voice low and reverent now. "Better than I ever fucking dreamed."

He presses a kiss to your shoulder.

"You're not walkin' straight tomorrow," he adds, smug. "But don't worry—I'll be right here to remind you why."

He doesn't pull out right away. Just stays there—buried deep, still twitching inside you, one hand splayed across your lower back, the other slipping up under the flannel to palm your breast with lazy ownership.

The silence is thick. The kind that rings. Your heartbeat is all you can hear—fast, frantic, shame-soaked.

Dean breathes deep, then exhales slow. "...Shit." It's almost fond.

He slides out with a wet sound, groaning under his breath, watching the mess drip from between your thighs with open satisfaction.

"Fucking hell, baby," he murmurs, dragging a finger through it, spreading it with no shame at all. "Can't believe you let me do that. In his shirt."

You whimper, still gagged, still shaking. Your knees nearly give as you try to straighten up.

He catches you by the waist, steadying you effortlessly. Then, softly—mockingly:

"You done crying?"

You don't answer. Can't. Not around the panties in your mouth. But your eyes say everything.

Dean leans in, mouth brushing your ear.

"I want you in my bed next time," he murmurs, voice like velvet and poison. "Naked. On your knees. Beggin' me to do it all over again."

You let out a broken sob—quiet, shameful.

He grins. Stands tall. Tucks himself back into his jeans without taking his eyes off you.

Then—

"But if you're just gonna go crawl back into Sammy's bed and cry yourself to sleep..." He shrugs, flicks his belt shut with one hand. "Might as well run along."

His eyes flick to the door.

"It's still open."

You turn—barely able to walk, face flushed and soaked with tears, the flannel falling off one shoulder. Every step away from him is a scar.

And as you reach the threshold, he calls after you—softly, smugly:

"Don't forget what you just gave up, sweetheart."

Your legs are barely working. You're half-naked, wearing Sam's flannel, marked inside and out by his brother's mouth, his cock, his voice.

The silence chokes you now.

Behind you, Dean drops into his desk chair like a king after war—chest rising and falling, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watches you go. He doesn't say anything else. Doesn't call you back. Just... waits. Because he knows what he's done. He knows what you are now.

You stop in the doorway, one hand on the frame. Look down the hall—toward the room that's supposed to be yours. The bed you share. The man you love.

Then you glance back. At Dean's bed. Unmade. Open. Waiting.

You stay there a second longer—undecided. A trembling silhouette caught between sin and salvation. And the door never shuts.

A/N: Okay, I am well aware of how goddamn cruel this was... but I lowkey don't really care (sorry Sammy bby) because how fucking hot? Ew. Gross levels of hot. Let me know what y'alls think pleaseeee. All the love.

Dean taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @losers-clvb @lunaleah @itshellfire @drakulana @sl33pylilbunny @suckitands33 @nevercameraready @0ccvltism @bittersweetfig @lyarr24 @podiumackles @spxideyver @tinas111 @paristheonewhoreads @winchestersbgirl @blossomingorchids @sacr1ficialang3l @liiiilsss @mj-102009 @kaz-2y5-spn <3

Also tagging @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth because I need you to see that I wrote it, please don't sue me. <3

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samsno1 · 1 year ago

Note

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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saltcxrcle · 2 months ago

Text

ménage à trois ── . ✶ sam. w & ruby

summary: ruby learns her lesson about popping into motel rooms uninvited

pairings: sam winchester x gn afab!reader x ruby, samruby, bi!reader, bi!rubyノwc: 6.2K warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, no use of 'y/n', fem pronouns are used, SMUT, porn with a smidge of plot, set in late szn 4, threesome f/f/m, oral both fem & male! receiving, fingering, slight sub/dom dynamics (slightly mean dom!reader and sam, sub!bratty!ruby), some degradation, name calling (ruby -> whore, slut), reader is referred to as a 'pretty girl' once, face sitting, manhandling, orgasm denial, rough sex, unprotected p in v (please use protection), kinda edited; all mistakes are my own a/n: here it is, the long awaited and final installment to motel chats! god i need them so bad and idk why i waited for so long to write this but i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did while writing this! heres the samruby smut freaks <33 sam. w masterlist | ruby masterlist | motel chats verse! masterlist

YOU NEEDED QUIET NIGHTS LIKE THIS.

You were lounging on the slightly lumpy mattress in the motel room you were staying in, and the sounds of Sam typing away at his laptop would occasionally break the calm silence that the two of you were sharing.

You and the Winchesters had been stuck in this town for a couple of days after the three of you wrapped up a simple salt and burn. Sam hadn’t been able to find a case for you guys to go on, so Dean decided to plant his feet here since it was a coastal town and it had the best pie in the diner across the street from where the three of you were staying.

You could tell Sam was getting a little stir-crazy and was dying to leave—wanting to find another hunt or figure out which seal was going to be broken next. Hence, he was tapping away at the laptop, straining his eyes with the blue light emitting from the screen.

You were reading a random Agatha Christie novel that was buried at the bottom of your bag, and you managed to find it after being bored with helping Sam research. But, you had been rereading the same page for the past ten minutes since your eyes always strayed away from the book and to Sam sitting at the table across the room from where you were.

You couldn’t help it. Sam's presence was distracting. Your eyes zeroed in on his hands, dragging along the mouse pad of the laptop. Long and dexterous fingers tapped at the keyboard, and you couldn’t help the way that your mouth watered at the thought of his hands grabbing at you and bringing you to your own pleasurable demise.

You’ve witnessed Sam’s hands being capable of bloodshed and violence, wielding knives and guns as he hunts—but you’ve seen them being in tender ways, a guiding hand on your lower back as you navigate through a sheriff’s office, or when his touch was feather-light on your broken skin as he patched you up from hunts that weren’t kind to you.

You swallowed thickly as your eyes strayed from Sam’s hands to his forearms, which were exposed. The brown button-up with studs for buttons that decorated his shirt was rolled up to his elbows, and you almost audibly groaned at the sight his forearms. You had to advert your eyes away from them—the prominent veins and rippling muscles in his forearms awoke something primal in you and all you wanted to do was bite them.

Christ, I’m acting like a Victorian man seeing a bare ankle for the first time. Get a grip!

You shook your head to try and rid yourself of the lustful yearning that you had for Sam. You could admit that it was a little pathetic that you’d been lusting after him for so long—but it was hard not to when he was built like a god reincarnated into a mortal’s body. God, it was unfair how effortlessly he looked good. Yeah, you were kidding yourself when you told yourself that there were only platonic feelings for Sam.

You bookmarked the page you were on before tossing the closed book on the bed beside you. You slid off the bed and made your way to the table that Sam was sitting on. You stood behind him as you draped yourself over his back, your arms wrapping around him in a loose hug, and your head was right beside his, looking at the random article Sam had found on his laptop.

You felt Sam huff a little laugh through his nose, clearly amused at you. You tried not to let the scent of mahogany, amber, citrus, and something that was clearly just Sam distract you.

“Found anything?” You murmured as you nudged his head with yours like a cat would against your leg.

“No.” Sam sighed out, leaning back and sinking into your embrace. The hand that was resting in his lap moved to rest on one of your forearms that was wrapped around him, his thumb slowly caressing the skin.

You hummed as you thought about it. You ignored the sparks zipping through you at the feeling of Sam’s warm hand on you.

“That’s probably a sign to take a break.” You pointed the obvious out to Sam.

Sam sighed again. “We have to figure out what–”

“What the next seals are. I know Sam.” You finished his sentence for him as you let go of Sam and moved out from behind him.

Sam looked unamused by the fact you cut him off, but you saw the corner of his mouth twitch slightly. He moved to type on the laptop, but you closed it before he could even touch it.

“Nope,” You shook your head at Sam. “No more researching, you’ve been doing it since we finished the hunt here, and I want to hang out with my best friend without any interruptions or talk of the potential apocalypse, okay?”

Sam’s jaw clenched. You could see the struggle in his eyes, but you stared down at him with your best puppy dog eyes, and your mouth formed into a slight pout. Sam’s eyes flickered quickly to your lips before meeting your pleading gaze.

“Fine.” Sam conceded after he blinked and broke the staring contest between the two of you.

Your mouth pulled into a wide smile. “Great! I’m going to go shower and when I come out, you better not be on this laptop and have found a movie for the two of us to shit on okay?”

Sam couldn’t help but smile at your infectious energy. “Sounds good.”

You nodded at Sam before heading to your duffle at the foot of your bed, quickly grabbing your pajamas and going into the bathroom. The shower started, and you began to hum to yourself as you waited for the water to warm up.

Sam kept his eyes trained on you until the bathroom door closed with a click. He glanced at his laptop before he shook his head. You always seemed to pull Sam out of his own head, which he was grateful for since this past year.

It weighed on him like a two-ton car on his shoulders. But you were like a soothing balm over the rough days that he dealt with when grappling with the blood addiction. Guilt brewed in his stomach, wanting to admit to you that he needed the stuff to feel stronger, but he wasn’t sure about how you would react, so he kept it to himself—letting the feeling slowly consume him.

Sam got up from his seat and stretched out his stiff muscles. He didn’t know how long he was sitting there but could feel the ache in his shoulders and back from sitting on the uncomfortable chair.

Sam sat at the foot of the bed you were lying on earlier and grabbed the remote, clicking through the channels on the shitty TV that the motel provided.

You were out of the shower in no time, but as you strolled out of the bathroom, a scowl made its way onto your face. You hated that you recognized the back of the brunette’s head, and you could see the annoyed look that Sam etched into his face as he stared her down.

“For fucks sake, is there not a day where we aren’t free from your bullshit?” You groaned as Ruby turned around at the sound of your exasperated tone.

“Well, don’t you sound so happy to see me.” Ruby quipped with a mocking smirk on her face.

You rolled your eyes at her as you crossed your arms over your clothed chest. Both Sam and Ruby’s eyes followed the movement, the action pulling the shirt taut over your chest and revealing that you weren’t wearing a bra.

“What do you want, Ruby?” Sam asked, his voice carrying a roughness to it.

“Can’t a girl drop by and say hi?” Ruby shrugged. Her question was innocent, but both you and Sam knew better.

“Not when it’s you. Now what do you want?”

Ruby put her hands up at your irritated tone. “Jeez, here I thought we were getting along.”

You looked at her incredulously. “When have we ever gotten along?”

Ruby had a dangerous gleam in her brown eyes—but before she could say anything, Sam moved in between the two of you, going behind you, grabbing your shoulders, and pulling you backward. You didn’t realize that you had been inching closer to her. Feeling Sam’s hands on your shoulders made you relax slightly, grounding you in the moment.

Ruby looked on the scene with a smirk dancing on her lips. Oh, she was going to have some fun with this.

“Okay, let’s just cool it for a second.” Sam saw the tension beginning to brew, and he really didn’t want to break up a fight between the two of you. “Ruby, if you don’t want or need anything, then leave.”

Ruby pouted at Sam. “Awe, you want me to leave so soon?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, answering before Sam could.

Sam squeezed your shoulders, signaling that you needed to calm down.

“Ruby, Leave.” Sam’s tone was serious as he stared at her. He could feel his skin starting to crawl the longer she stayed, itching for a fix. Sam’s supply was running low, but he knew he couldn’t do anything about it while you were in the room.

“Ugh, the two of you are no fun.” She looked around the room, not making any moves to leave. “Where’s the third musketeer?”

“He’s at the bar.” You spat out through gritted teeth. “Is that all you wanted to ask or are you just trying to waste our time?”

“And what time am I wasting? It doesn’t look like you guys were doing anything important. Or did I interrupt something again like I did last time?” Ruby’s smile was coy and knowing as a mischievous glint passed through her eyes.

“What-

“You didn’t. Now get out.” You quickly interrupted Sam, sending Ruby a glare that had the heat of a thousand suns.

The smirk never slipped from Ruby’s lips. “Hmm. That’s not what you said when you were moaning like a whore while our pussies were grinding against each other.”

The reaction from you and Sam was immediate. Your face flushed with heat while Sam’s hands slipped from your shoulders; shock rendered him speechless as his brain was trying to comprehend Ruby’s words.

“Shut the fuck up.” You ground your teeth together and had to resist the urge to strangle Ruby and cover your flaming cheeks. Embarrassment flooded your veins, and you were grateful that Sam was standing behind you so you didn't see his reaction.

Sam blinked in surprise and shock. His own mind betrayed him and conjured up an image of the two of you naked in bed and having sex. Sam had to clear his throat, looking away from the demon smirking in front of him, attempting to tamp down the growing arousal brewing in him at the thought.

“I don’t know why you’re embarrassed, Sammy here is into the idea of it isn’t he?” Ruby asked as she moved closer to you, like a snake inching toward her prey, getting ready to strike.

“Ruby.” Sam’s voice was stern, agitated by her words. He moved out from behind you and stood right next to you.

“Oh, don’t play dumb, Sam.” Ruby met your eyes, an almost malicious smile on her lips at the sight of the frown on your face. “I’ve never seen the two of you come harder to the idea of fucking each other while you fuck me," Ruby said casually like you guys were having a casual chat at the coffee shop.

Ruby was having fun. That much was sure as she saw the two of you shift uncomfortably right next to each other, refusing to look at the other. It was easy to rile you up, and if she played her cards right, the three of you were going to be in for a fun night. She just needed to push the right buttons.

Sam always took a little convincing, but with her blood on the table, he always cracked and fell to his knees before her. But with you here, Ruby had a feeling you didn’t approve or know about the blood addiction, so she was relying on you. She just had to push a little harder to get you to snap.

Once you broke, Ruby was sure that Sam would follow in your footsteps. A shiver of anticipation went down her spine as she inched closer to the two of you, only a foot away from either of you.

Ruby let out a little laugh. “Come on guys, there’s no need to be embarrassed, we’re all adults here, we can talk about sex and having it with each other.”

“Christ, do you ever stop talking or do you just like hearing the sound of your own voice?” You snapped. You were beyond done with Ruby.

You were mortified that Ruby just carelessly revealed that the two of you had slept with each other to Sam. You were planning on taking that secret to the grave. You didn’t care about the fact that Sam was sleeping with her; it was a well-known fact between everyone and their mother at this point. But you can’t deny how your stomach fluttered at the mention of Ruby mentioning you while she fucked Sam.

“You know what exactly you can do to shut me up.” Ruby taunted, wanting you to take the bait.

You stared at her, your fists bawled at your side. You took a glance at Sam. Fuck it. You thought before lunging at her, pulling her into a biting kiss filled with teeth and tongue. Ruby couldn’t help but smirk against your lips and had to hold back the laugh that wanted to escape her at the stunned expression that appeared on Sam’s face.

What the hell? Sam thought as he saw you lunge at Ruby—he was going to reach for you, thinking you were going to attack her, but faltered when he saw you planted your lips on hers, pulling her into a rough kiss.

Sam thought of himself as a respectful man—but he was a man at the end of the day, and seeing two beautiful people kiss in front of him sent a bolt of arousal down his spine as he felt his cock hardening in his jeans.

It ended all too soon for Ruby. Her mouth opened to say something, but your hand covered it—smothering any words that threatened to spill from her lips. A fire glinted in your eyes as you shook your head at her before looking at Sam with a smirk.

“Want to help me out here? Since she wants us to shut her up so badly.”

If you want out, you can leave. I’ll deal with her. You conveyed to Sam in a silent conversation when your eyes met his increasingly darkening gaze, the hazel of his eyes being swallowed up by his pupil. Sam sent you an almost imperceptible nod, making your smirk widen.

Ruby saw the exchange between the two of you, and she smirked underneath your hand. This was easier than she expected.

You moved your hand from her mouth, turning her around so her back was facing you. Your hand quickly grabbed the hair near the nape of her neck and pulled her head back roughly, exposing her neck to you and making her stare up at Sam, who was looking down at her with a filthy smirk. Ruby had to muffle the low groan that escaped her lips at the sudden manhandling coming from you and the scrape of your nails against her scalp.

“You wanna show me how you shut her up? She talked a big game about how you fuck her face.” Your filter was thrown out of the window. Lust had taken the driver's seat of your mind and your words.

Sam chuckled darkly in a tone you’d never heard before, and you could feel your underwear dampening at the sound. “Yeah, I can show you. She sucks cock like a slut.”

You hummed. “I figured. That’s the only thing that mouth is good for right, Sammy? It's better used for sucking cock and eating pussy.” You leaned down and nipped at her neck.

Ruby let out a soft moan at the feeling of your lips on her neck before a louder moan at the sting of the pain of your teeth sinking into her neck.

“Yeah it is.” He agreed, looking at the scene in front of him hungrily. “The only time she’s quiet is when she’s choking on my cock.”

Ruby’s underwear was ruined. She could feel it as arousal flooded her veins as you and Sam talked about her as if she wasn’t in the room with the two of you.

“Are you guys going to keep talking about shutting me up or actually do it?” Ruby had to swallow a moan at the feeling of a harsh tug of her hair before she lurched forward and felt the rough carpet against her jean-covered knees. She had to brace herself, Ruby's hands fell to Sam's thighs—her face now being eye-level with Sam’s prominent bulge.

Your eyes were trained on Ruby’s hands as they unbuckled Sam’s belt and flicked open the button on his jeans. Sam kicked them off as soon as they fell off of his hips, leaving him in shirts and his boxers.

Ruby looked at him with wide eyes as she leaned in and kissed his cock through the thin fabric. She started to plant kisses along his bulge, licking at the damp spot at the front of his boxers.

His hand landed in her hair, grasping at the strands. “Don’t tease.” Sam growled out as he shoved her closer to his covered crotch.

Ruby huffed but obeyed him anyway. Her hands grabbed the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down, his cock springing out once they were off. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. It was long and thick, the tip ruddy and leaking, and it was begging to be sucked.

Ruby licked her lips at the sight of it. It had been a while since she had sucked Sam off, and she couldn’t help but press a soft kiss to the sensitive tip, precum smearing on her bottom lip.

Sam let a low groan escape his chest at the feeling and let out a soft sigh at the feeling of her warm mouth wrapping around his tip and slowly enveloping the rest of his shaft.

You let out a low whistle at the sight of Ruby swallowing down Sam’s cock, her nose nestled at the trimmed patch of hair at the base of his dick, reminding Sam that you were still in the room with them.

His eyes snapped open, not realizing that they had closed and met your blown-out eyes.

“Come here.” Sam gestured for you to come closer to him, his voice thick with lust.

Ruby’s mouth started to move on Sam’s dick, her tongue tracing the veins that were on his thick shaft as you moved closer to Sam. He grabbed you by the waist as soon as you were close to him and kissed you hard. It wasn’t as hard as you kissed Ruby, but it was still filled with tongue and passion. Sam moaned against your lips as Ruby started to suck his cock with fervor, eventually making him part from your lips to look down at her—making you follow his gaze.

“Wow, she really is a cocksucking slut.” You saw how eager she was on his dick, moving her head rapidly, spit pooling at the corner of her mouth as her mouth hollowed around him.

You saw her hand reach for the rest of him that couldn’t fit in her mouth, but you acted fast, grabbing her hands and pinning them to the small of her back, going on your knees behind her.

You clicked your tongue at her. “You’re gonna let him fuck your face like the good demon whore that you are.” You murmured into her ear as you squeezed her wrists.

Ruby let out a low moan around Sam at your words, a groan escaping his mouth at the feeling of the vibrations around his dick, increasing the pleasure he was indulging in. Sam gathered her hair in one of his hands and started to thrust his hips, shoving his cock further down her throat.

You kept her hands pinned to her back as you shuffled to the side of the both of them, the room filled with the sound of Sam’s pleasured grunts and groans alongside the occasional gag and shlick noises coming from Ruby’s mouth.

It was pure debauchery as you watched Sam fuck Ruby’s face. Your underwear was ruined at this point—your pussy practically pulsating with need, but you could care less. You wanted to see Ruby get a taste of her own medicine for once.

Ruby was in pure bliss right now. She didn’t feel the need to use her abnormal strength at all. Ruby was right where she wanted as she savored the taste of Sam on her taste buds. All she wanted next was to taste you.

You used your free hand to shove your hand in her jeans, feeling her wetness through her underwear. “Shit, she’s soaked. Should have known you’d like being used like this.” You jeered at her as you pressed at her clit through her soaked panties.

Ruby whined at the feeling of her clit being stimulated and ground her hips into your hand, wanting more friction. You let her, pressing harder against her as you rubbed her through her wet underwear.

Sam started to fuck her face harder, pushing her face down his cock until he was fully sheathed into her mouth and holding her there. You could see her throat bulging with his length.

You couldn’t help but groan at the sight and rubbed at Ruby harder. “Fuck, that’s hot.” You muttered as you heard Ruby gag around his dick.

Sam was breathing harshly at the feeling of Ruby swallowing around his cock. “Such a good mouth, fuck!” He noticed how her hips were moving as your hand was shoved down her pants. “You liked being used by us don’t you?”

Sam let go of her completely, letting her take a breath, a cough escaping her before it turned into a high-pitched moan. Your hand made its way underneath her panties and shoved two fingers into her sopping cunt—you were met with no resistance since she was leaking profusely.

Ruby nodded in response, but Sam gripped her chin with his free hand. “Words.” He demanded.

“Y-yes,” Ruby said through a broken moan. You had brushed against her g-spot and began to attack her neck with your lips.

Sam used the opportunity of her open mouth and guided her back onto his cock, pistoning his hips at a slower pace than before but hitting the back of her throat with every thrust.

You could feel her start to clench around your fingers as she moved her hips in tandem with your fingers. Before her orgasm could crest and overtake her, you signaled to Sam, and the both of you pulled away from her completely.

Ruby let out a pitiful whine as she stared up at the two of you through wet eyes. She looked fucked out with her pink lip gloss smeared all over her face, her mascara beginning to smudge and smear down her cheeks as Ruby glared up at the two of you.

You couldn’t help but smirk at how wrecked she looked. You locked eyes with and sucked her slick from your fingers before turning to Sam and kissing him. He quickly reciprocated the kiss, his tongue diving into your mouth and groaning at the mixed taste of just purely you and Ruby’s arousal on your tongue.

You quickly broke the kiss—a string of saliva connected the two of you before it broke. You both turned back to Ruby, matching predatory looks in either of your eyes. Ruby felt her stomach fall as you gestured for her to stand up. She stood on shaky legs before you pulled her into you, grabbing another fistful of hair and making her look up at you.

A smirk that could rival her own black soul pulled at your lips. “Time to learn your lesson about showing up without any warning.” You let go of her and pushed her towards the bed. “Strip.” Your tone left no room for an argument.

“Are you going to let her boss you around too?” Ruby couldn’t help but take a jab at Sam.

You raised your eyebrow at her, sharing a quick look with Sam. Then, with an unexpected speed for a man his size, Sam lunged at Ruby— pinning her to the bed with a hand around her throat.

Sam glared down at Ruby. “You know I was going to let you come around my cock. But you had to be a brat.” Sam shook his head, acting disappointed. “We both call the shots tonight, you don’t, so strip.”

Sam looked back at you. “You too.” He ordered before letting go of Ruby and began to shed his shirt, shucking off the brown button-up before taking off the grey v-neck he had—leaving him standing naked in the warm lighting that the lamps of the motel room provided.

You couldn’t help but stare at the expanse of his tanned skin as you took off the shirt and pajama shorts you changed into after you had showered, leaving you as bare as the day you were born.

Both of you approached the bed from opposite sides. The roles had reversed. Ruby was the prey now, left naked in the middle of the bed, her chest heaving with anticipation as you and Sam had become the predators and waiting for the right time to strike. You and Sam started to plant kisses on her bare skin. Your lips trailed across her chest as Sam’s lips moved down her stomach, moving in between her legs.

Your hands went to her breasts, squeezing at the soft flesh as your mouth covered hers, kissing her sloppily as Sam began to kiss at her clit softly before swiping his tongue through her slit and spearing her on his stiffened tongue.

Ruby broke the kiss, letting a moan erupt from deep in her chest as the heat in her lower stomach started to brew again. You began to pinch and twist at her nipples, biting and nipping at the soft skin of her neck and chest, letting her whines and moans fill your ears.

Sweat began to coat her skin as pleasure overwhelmed her senses. She felt like there were hands all over her body, gripping her thighs, her boobs, and her hips. Ruby could feel herself getting closer. She could almost taste her climax, but so could Sam.

He pulled away from Ruby’s cunt. It was glistening from the mix of his spit and her slick, flushed, and her clit swollen from how Sam wrapped his lips around it and sucked at it. Ruby let out a frustrated cry, making you chuckle into her neck.

You pulled away from her, and one of your hands left her chest to caress her wet cheek, wiping at the stray tear. “You’ll come. Just until we think you deserve it, okay?” You cooed at her sweetly, but your words carried an undertone of authority.

“Sam’s going to fuck you and I’m going to sit on your face.” You explained to Ruby with a gentle smile on your face, patting her flushed cheek before you and Sam moved.

You hovered over her face, your back to the headboard as Sam wrenched her legs apart and teased her with his cock swiping through her slit, tapping his head on her clit teasingly—a low whine escaping her as her cunt clenched around nothing.

“Use your words. What do you want?” Sam taunted, hearing her whine as his cock prodded at her entrance, the tip threatening to slip inside.

Ruby ground her teeth together. She slowly regretted letting the two of you hold the power in this situation. Your wet cunt was hovering over her face, and Ruby’s mouth watered, remembering the unique taste of your arousal from the last time you sat on her face and rode it.

She was aching to be filled by Sam’s cock. “Put your cock in me and sit on my face.” Ruby huffed, her voice strained with want.

“What’s the magic word?” You couldn’t help but tease Ruby. She was being a brat, so this was warranted in your mind.

“Please, please fill me up and ride my face.” Ruby broke, and she really didn’t care anymore. She just wanted to come.

You looked at Sam. “If that’s what she wants.” You had a smirk as you shrugged, lowering yourself on her face.

The soft sigh that you let out turned into a low moan as the vibrations of Ruby’s moan echoed through you and into your cunt as she started to eat you out, her hands finding purchase on your hips. You stared at how Ruby’s pussy stretched around Sam’s cock, and he let out the sexiest groan once he was fully seated inside of her.

Sam started to move at a fast pace, giving Ruby no time to adjust to his size as he shoved his dick deeper and harder into her. You let yourself go as you rode her face, eyes fell shut at the feeling of her sucking at your clit—you were pinching at your nipples, sending more sparks of pleasure to your lower belly, letting the warmth bloom throughout your body.

Your eyes snapped open at the feeling of Sam caressing your sides, moving your hands away from your breasts to knead and holding them in his big hands. You couldn’t help but lean forward, trying to keep your cunt connected with Ruby’s mouth and kissing Sam.

You were obsessed with the taste of Ruby lingering in his mouth as your tongues danced with each other. Your hand fell and started to rub at Ruby’s swollen clit, making her squeal into your pussy.

“Maybe we should have done this sooner. Her mouth feels so against me.” You panted into Sam’s mouth.

Sam let out a breathless chuckle. “She liked that, clenched around me so tight when you said that. You like that? Us using you like our little fucktoy?”

A muffled moan left her, and you smiled wickedly at Sam as your hips rutted harder down on her face. “Yeah, she does. The best part about this is that we can do as much as we want to her, and she won’t break.”

Sam’s hips stuttered slightly. “Fuck, she’s clenching around me so tight. She’s close.”

“Sam, stop.”

He obeyed, stilling inside of her, and she whined against your pussy, stopping her ministrations. You slapped at her tit when you felt her tongue stop moving against you.

“I didn’t say you could stop.”

Ruby internally rolled her eyes at you but continued to eat you out, shoving her tongue in you and fucking you with it. You let out a moan but tried to compose yourself as you gestured for Sam to pull out of Ruby. He looked at you confused but pulled out of her anyway.

You quickly leaned down, resting your hands against Ruby’s thighs before taking Sam in your mouth, and your eyes rolled back at the mixed taste of Sam and Ruby.

“Fuck me. Shit, your mouth is so good, taking me in your mouth so well f’me pretty girl.”

You preened at the praise from Sam, spending some time sucking his cock while letting the coil get tighter and tighter in you as Ruby used her mouth on you.

As much as you didn’t want to, you lifted off of her face and pulled your mouth away from Sam. You were getting close as well, but you wanted to come around Sam’s cock. You moved your way down Ruby’s body, settling in between her legs and face-to-face with her pussy.

“Doing so well for us Ruby, such a good little whore. You can come whenever Sam says you can?” You said as you started to softly rub at her clit with your thumb.

Ruby didn’t care anymore. She just wanted to come already. Ruby was so close to an orgasm that time, but she was at the mercy of you and Sam. This may have backfired on her, but maybe it was for the better.

You threw a coy smile over your shoulder at Sam, your hips swaying as an invitation as you spread your knees apart, revealing your pussy to him. Sam swiped his fingers through your wet slit before bringing his slick-coated fingers to his mouth and tasting you.

“You taste good.” He said once his fingers were cleaned. Sam moved to eat you out, but you stopped him.

“Next time, I want to feel you fill me up.” You promised as you sent him a slightly pleading look.

You really wanted to be filled—you had been clenching around nothing all night, and you wanted to feel him for days after tonight. Sam nodded and gripped your hips while your face dipped down, and you licked a broad stripe up Ruby’s slit, your fingers entering her as your mouth wrapped around the bundle of nerves.

You moaned into Ruby’s cunt as Sam stretched you out with his cock—the satisfying pinch of pain bled into pleasure as he filled you up. You swore you could feel him in your stomach, and the feeling intensified as he started to move.

You tried to finger and eat out Ruby to the best of your ability as Sam fucked you, and sparks of pleasure zipped up your spine.

Sam wouldn’t have imagined this happening in a million years. This was something that only played out in his fantasies, but fuck was he going to enjoy and wring out every drop of pleasure he could. His hands gripped your hips hard as he pistoned into you.

“So tight around me, fuck, you feel so good.” Sam praised as he leaned over and planted kisses on your spine.

You barely heard Sam’s praises over Ruby’s constant babbling and whining, filled with yeses and pleases and a mix of your names blending together in her garbled speech.

“Can I come? Please!” Ruby begged, feeling her eyes well up in frustrated tears. She was so close but held back, not wanting to disobey either of you and have her orgasm ruined for the fourth time.

Sam could feel you were getting close too—hell, he was on the verge of it as well. Your pussy was practically choking his cock as he brushed against the spongy spot that only Ruby and yourself could find.

“Yeah, shit, you can come,” Sam ordered Ruby, and she all but broke apart on your fingers and mouth. You tried to work her through her orgasm, but you were distracted by Sam now rubbing at your sensitive clit while thrusting harder into you. Your forehead came to rest on her still convulsing pussy as you fell apart Sam’s cock.

“Where?” He managed to say through gritted teeth, having held back his orgasm to let you get through yours, but with how you were pulsing around him, Sam was close to releasing you.

“A-all over us.” You managed to say before Sam pulled out.

You lay beside Ruby as Sam got on his knees with you guys on the bed and started to stroke his cock rapidly with your lingering arousal as lube. He came with a long groan, spurts of his cum landing on both your and Ruby’s tits and chests as you both looked up at him.

Sam’s breathing was harsh as he let go of his spent cock. He cursed underneath his breath when he saw you collect some of his cum and tasted it for yourself. You hummed at the taste. He was a little salty, but nothing too bad. You turned to the demon next to you and kissed her, your tongue coated in Sam’s essence.

Sam’s cock twitched at the sight. It was really hot, but he knew he had to wait until he could get going.

You pulled away from Ruby. “Learned your lesson yet?” You asked with a smirk on your lips, caressing her cheek with your free hand.

A mischievous glint passed through her brown eyes. “I might need another lesson to ram it home.”

You tore your eyes away from Ruby to look at Sam. Your gazes met, and a silent conversation passed between the two of you.

“Round two it is.” You said, still looking at Sam before turning back to Ruby and straddling her.

Ruby saw the dangerous look flash in your eye and saw the matching look in Sam’s eyes. She knew she was in for a very long night.

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katomicarchetype · 20 days ago

Text

i've always had a thing for dangerous women ❧

“Spit on your hand and lead me inside Through the caves of your fingers and into the tide”

‘Sow Mare Bitch Vixen’ - Fionn Regan

pairing: blood-junkie!sam x demon!reader

rating: 18+, MDNI

tags: smut, pwp, sam is a munch fr, incorrect use of blood, sam-manipulation, jk love him and think that his being manipulated is often overlooked but sometimes u gotta do what u gotta do for the fanfic, reader is afab... kind of., the person that reader is possessing is afab, KFC (finger-licking good), dub-con, lowercase intended, p in v (wrap before tap), oral - f receiving

notes: hi first time posting an actual thing so scared ahhhhhh

wc: 1.3k

when ruby said sam winchester was off limits, she made the forbidden fruit even sweeter.

so naturally, when you wanted to piss her off, you tracked the winchester boy down to that abandoned shed in nebraska that he’d been squatting in for the past few days. scared and alone with his brother rotting in hell, vulnerability was practically oozing off of sam as you threw the shed’s doors open. you watched him like a hungry wolf watches a fawn as he scrambled to his feet and reached for his shotgun.

“who the hell are you?!” sam barked, aiming the barrel straight for your head.

“me?” you chuckled with a sweet bitterness. “i’m practically your sister in law, honey… by the way, dean sends his love,”

you see his face twitch in reaction to your words and you can’t help but lick your lips. as you saunter closer to him, you can see his resolve begin to crumble, and the position of his gun falters just a bit. it should be illegal to look that pathetic and sexy at the same time.

“what do you want?” he sneered, looking down the barrel of the slightly lowered shotgun at you. he backed up a half step, as if he had the ability to control himself.

“i wanna help you, sammy,” you purred, running your fingers along the dusty workbench as you stepped closer to him. you could see him clench and unclench his jaw as he caught a whiff of your scent: dark and smoky-sweet, like a bourbon that burns your throat all the way down to your gut. "...unless you're loyal to a demon,"

sam slightly shook his head, and you wondered if he were trying to convince you or himself with that answer. you stopped walking once your fingers brushed something on the workbench and picked it up, testing its weight in your hands. it was an old hatchet, still surprisingly sharp. you ran your index finger along the bit, drawing a drop of crimson blood to the surface of your skin.

"i'll let you have the first taste for free..." you tell him in a sick sing-song voice.

you can almost hear the gears move in that pretty little head of his. click... click... click. within an instant, he's crossed the shed to you, lapping at your finger like a starving man, his eyes wide and crazed, holding your wrist like it were the most precious thing in the world.

once he's hooked, you pull your finger away from his mouth and click your tongue. "tsk, tsk, sam. the rest comes at a price." he looks up at you with those classic puppy-dog eyes you've heard so much about from ruby. it would've hurt your soul if you still owned one.

"...what's the price?" he asked hesitantly, his dewy eyes looking at you as if you were holy rather than damned.

"just show me how much you want your fix," you drawled, boosting yourself onto the edge of the workbench, crossing your legs.

next thing you know, sam winchester, the forbidden fruit, is fucking nose-deep into your pussy... well. not really your pussy. the girl that you possessed's pussy. the same girl that you thanked god (again, not really.) wore her cutest lacey panties today. and the same girl who is probably watching from the inside, horrified that she's inadvertently cheating on her goodie-two-shoes boyfriend. you chuckle to yourself as you picture him: starched khakis and on his way to church, hoping to catch this girl's eye in the pews...

your thoughts were quickly interrupted as sam moves from tongue-fucking you to sucking on your clit.

"shit!" you hiss, feeling your thighs twitch from where they're wrapped around his neck. he sucks harder at your loud expletive, sending you over the edge, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your thighs. jess was a lucky woman before she, y'know, exploded into flames... tragic.

"that good?" sam huffed impatiently, finally coming up for air. his nose twitched as if he were ashamed. as if he wasn't known for being a monster-fucker.

"don't be in such a rush, sammy," you cooed. "you've hardly made an appearance."

he followed your eyes down to his jeans, where a prominent bulge was forming below his belt. sam frowned, deciding if he wanted to give yet another demon the pleasure. he looked you up and down, chewing the inside of his cheek. sure, what the hell? it wasn't that bad- in fact, the sicker side of him kind of enjoyed it. and dean wasn't here to judge or yell at him...

as his hands frantically move down to his belt buckle, you unwrap your legs from his neck, and your high heel connects with his chest, pushing him back from the workbench so you have some room to hop down and help the guy out.

once his belt was no longer in the way, you helped him shimmy his jeans down his hips, leaving him in only his boxers from his mid-thigh, up to where his shirt had ridden up a little. you could see his jaw clench again as your fingers, then your hand, dipped below the waistband of his underwear and pulled out his dick.

he was only half hard, but despite that, he was the biggest out of all the men you've seen completely hard. you raise your eyebrows and glance up at sam, and he turns his head as if he has something to be embarrassed of.

"sorry," he mumbles, and you quickly shake your head.

"don't be sorry,"

you spit on your hand and wrap it around his cock, placing your other hand on his chest to brace yourself. he lets out what you could've sworn was a low whimper before dipping his head and brushing his lips against the side of your face, finally allowing himself to kiss you, as if you actually care for him, because right now, he's pretending that you do.

you stroke him a few times until he becomes actually hard, and he lifts you by the hips, and holds you against the workbench, the rotted wood biting into your ass. you continue to pump your fist until he holds you steady enough so that you can line the tip of him up with your entrance. you allow yourself to sink down on him a bit, and he thrusts up, meeting you the rest of the way. sam stutters to a stop, allowing you to stretch and accommodate his size before continuing.

"god," he hisses, leaning over you more and pressing his nose to the side of your neck. he places a few kisses on your skin before moving again.

he starts slow and calculated, but begins to speed up and get hasty as time passes. by the end of it, he's going deeper, hitting spots you never knew existed, even though you've never had the same uterus twice, and he's fucking you so hard that the tools on the workbench rattle and begin to fall off.

"fuck!" you cry in between his grunts, your nails digging into his scalp and into the wood grain of the workbench, one of his hands splayed across your lower back, and the other across your hip.

before he cums, he bites down on your shoulder and quickly pulls out, allowing himself to spill all over your stomach. he breathes heavily against the crook of your neck and you can feel his skin slick with sweat as well as your own release between your thighs, wetter than the ocean tide.

"sam," you whisper, and he lifts his head enough to glance at you. you tilt your head in the direction of your outstretched arm, a long red cut along your forearm, already dripping as much as your fucked-out pussy.

his eyes lazily drift towards your bleeding arm and he praises god that he is finally worthy to drink the nectar of your veins.

#katomicarchetype #sam winchester x reader #spn #spn fandom #supernatural #spnblr #sam winchester #x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fic #fanfiction #fanfic

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doctorbitchcrxft · 9 months ago

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Emotions Pt 2 | Sam Winchester x Angel!Fem!Reader

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Angel!Reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI 18+ ONLY!!!, cunnilingus, p in v (wrap it before you tap it), discussions of grief

Word Count: 3110

A/N: Hi! Trying to work on my requests to give myself a bit of an escape from what’s going on in my personal life right now. I am combining requests I was getting for a part 2 to my Sam x Angel!Reader fic with another request from much later in the queue, so I did have to jump around in the order of my fic requests! I hope that’s okay!

General Writings Masterlist

Pt 1

If you thought humans were strange and intriguing before, being human was even stranger. Your existence had been predictable before you met Sam Winchester. And now, you were feeling and experiencing multitudes you hadn’t known to be possible. Navigating the full scape of human emotion was incredibly difficult and draining at times. Thoughts you’d never had emotion assigned to would cross your mind at random times of the day. And suddenly, you’d be sniffling and trying to control the tears forming in your eyes.

Sam had gotten good at navigating these moments with you. He would talk about your feelings with you very openly and share some of his own.

The first time you realized that Sam would one day die, possibly leaving you on earth alone, you were horrified.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, seeing you trying to hold back tears while staring at the ground.

“You’re gonna die one day,” you said plainly.

“Uh, yeah,” he snorted. “Yeah, I am.”

“It’s not funny,” you snapped, eyes flashing to his.

He shook his head. “I know, I know, I’m sorry.” He sat down on the chair across from you. “Just caught me off-guard, ‘s all,” Sam replied. “What brought that on?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It just… came over me all of a sudden. Does that not scare you?”

He considered for a moment. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” you asked.

“ ‘Cause somebody told me Heaven’s real—” he nudged your knee with his, making you huff out a small laugh— “and maybe I’ll get to see my mom. Actually meet her.”

“But what am I supposed to do?” you asked.

Sam stared at you for a moment.

“You’re my best friend, Sam. What am I supposed to do if you die first?” you asked, eyes becoming glassy again.

“What you did before me,” he replied simply. “You just gotta keep going.”

“No offense, Sam, but you’ve been a complete mess without Dean.”

“That’s different. He’s my brother,” Sam said.

Your gaze was soft, but it held intensity. So much so that it made Sam squirm beneath it.

“What?” he asked.

“I don’t think it’s different,” you sniffed. “I just think it’s— oh, what’s that word— grief.”

Sam couldn’t bring himself to look at you.

“And I think that because you know what you know, you’re convinced that there’s some way to bring him back. And because you can’t do it, you’re not allowing yourself to accept the grief. You’re just… kinda… stuck,” you finished.

A heavy silence blanketed the air.

“Y’know, for an angel with zero understanding of human emotion, that was pretty good,” the young man chuckled.

A genuine smile spread across your face.

****

Even with Dean gone, you could see Sam starting to heal. You hoped you played a large part in that. However, you were growing curious as to why you hadn’t heard the angels talking about Castiel retrieving Dean. What were they waiting on?

Ruby hadn’t shown her face, either, much to your surprise. You assumed she could feel that you were here and decided to make herself scarce. A wise choice on her part, if you did say so yourself.

Sam’s demon blood addiction would sometimes cripple him. On those days where his withdrawals or cravings would get bad, you would sit on the couch or the kitchen floor with his head in your lap and allow him to cry or sleep until the pain subsided. Sometimes, he’d get angry with himself for not being strong enough to push through the affliction on his own, to which you’d remind him that not many humans survive demon blood addiction as well as he had.

“It fucking hurts, (Y/N),” Sam told you, shivering beside you. Sweat beaded at every pore, and his face was flushed.

You held a wet rag to the back of his neck while he clutched at your knee.

“I know, Sammy—”

“Why didn’t you just let me have it? Maybe I could find Lilith if you’d just—”

You cut him off, trying not to get angry with him. “Sam, no.”

“—But (Y/N)—”

“No.” You pushed yourself off the couch and turned to sit on the ground so that you were eyelevel with him. “I will not let you do that to yourself again. Do you hear me?”

Sam grimaced with watery eyes, but he nodded.

“I— I can’t watch that happen to you,” you said, tears catching in your throat. It was surprising to find yourself unable to express yourself evenly and coherently as you always had, but your emotion seemed to help you get through to Sam more.

The other angels had no idea what they were missing.

***

When you were an angel, you truly didn’t have an internal dialogue. And now, your mind was flooded with constant thought. Occasionally, it was burdensome, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Before, all you had was experience and memory. It was as if you were entirely continuous with your environment, and you took everything around you at surface value. There was no internal reflection.

“That’s called ‘sonder’,” Sam explained to you.

“What is?” you asked, temporarily looking away from the river below you.

You’d discovered a creaky, wooden bridge over a rushing stream on a walk through the forest with Sam.

“What you just said. Realizing that everybody has their own experiences, and thoughts, and lives entirely separate from yours,” he continued.

You gently kicked your feet back and forth over the edge of the bridge with your arms crossed over the railing in front of you. Sam sat beside you, watching you. “Does it ever get overwhelming?” you asked him, thinking maybe you were the only one feeling so burdened by thought as a result of your new status as a human.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Feeling. Thinking,” you elaborated, unable to look at him out of fear that he may judge you.

“Yeah, frequently.” He nodded, a slight smile on his lips. “But, uh, certain things make it better.”

That caught your attention, as his tone sounded a bit loaded. “What things?”

He kept his gaze down but nudged your shoulder with his. “Certain angels.”

A wide smile spread across your face. “Certain Sam Winchesters make it better for me, too.”

He returned your expression.

***

The fall months were upon you. The cabin you stayed in with Sam was where you first discovered what “warmth” was as you sat by the fire. Now, though, a different feeling encompassed you.

It started slowly; ignorable, almost. First, small little bumps formed on your arms while you brought the trash out to the dumpster about a mile away from the cabin. Then, you felt like the wind was blowing through your body. You tried your hardest to ignore the feeling, but soon, it felt like your insides were shaking.

It freaked you out, to say the least. And when you lifted the lid of the dumpster to put your trash inside, your fingers were blue. In fact, you almost couldn’t feel them at all.

“What the fuck,” you muttered.

Afraid of what was happening to you, you began running all the way back to the cabin. When you nearly broke the door down with your entry, Sam jumped to his feet. “Whoa, (Y/N), what the hell?”

You were panting, hunched over, and panicking. “Something— is happening…” you swallowed thickly, “to me.”

Sam rushed over to you, bending down to your level and tucking your hair behind your ear. “What? Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” you breathed out. You looked down at your fingertips and realized they weren’t blue anymore. “Wait, where’d it go?”

You and Sam both straightened up, and you continued to search your fingers for the discoloration.

“Where’d what go?” Sam questioned.

“My— My fingers were blue just a minute ago,” you explained.

“Blue?” he repeated.

You nodded. “And my insides were shaking.”

A small smile began to pull at the ends of Sam’s lips. “Did you also have little bumps on your arms?”

Your eyes snapped to his. “How’d you know that?”

“You’re a seraph. You’ve been around for forever, and you got scared of the wind?” Sam asked.

“The wind didn’t do that to me,” you said pitifully, “it’s never done that before.”

Sam laughed.

“It’s not funny,” you pouted grouchily.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Sam continued. “You just got cold, (Y/N).”

You furrowed your brow.

“Here,” the brunet continued. He opened the door for you, and you walked out of it hesitantly. The first of the Autumn leaves had fallen to the ground and crunched under your feet as you made your way out.

Sam followed behind, and the two of you stood beside each other silently. You looked up at the trees rustling in the wind, and small wisps of your hair began to lift away from your face. And then, you felt the little bumps forming on your arms again. You looked down, a little less afraid this time.

“See? Just the wind,” Sam explained.

Then, a shiver ripped down your spine, and your body began to shake from the feeling.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside,” he said. Once you were, Sam offered you the jacket that was laying on the back of a chair in the kitchen. You wrapped yourself in it while he continued to tend the fire.

“It’s probably gonna get cooler tonight, too,” he explained, dusting his hands off and standing from the ground. “This room’s the only one with heat in it.”

Your eyes widened in worry, as your shivering hadn’t stopped even with the jacket wrapped around you.

Sam chuckled with fondness at your expression. “You can take my bed.”

“But won’t you be cold, too?” you asked through your clattering teeth.

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about me.” Off your look, he continued. “Seriously. I’m kinda a human furnace.”

“C’mere, then,” you asserted.

The brunet seemed caught off-guard.

“Please?” you begged. “I’m still cold.”

Hesitantly, he sat on the couch beside you and opened his arms to you. You shuffled across the couch to where you were curled into his chest between his outstretched legs. Sam relaxed against the arm of the couch and wrapped his strong arms around you.

With a look that almost bordered on pleading, you pulled back from his chest and stared up at him. His eyes seemed to almost search your face before he began to lean down toward you. Feeling a sudden surge of confidence, you leaned up to press your lips to his.

Sam immediately groaned at the contact, and you threaded your fingers through his hair while his hands explored the curves of your waist. When his hand grazed the underside of your breast, you took in a sharp breath.

Immediately, Sam broke the kiss. “Is this okay?”

Without breaking eye contact, you grabbed his hand and brought it to your breast. An intense lust clouded his eyes, and Sam pulled your head back toward his while he kneaded your breast in his hand.

Heat flooded your thighs, and you were a bit overwhelmed by the feeling. Your breath quickened as you allowed Sam to push your shirt up over your head.

He broke the kiss again only to say, “Bed, now.”

You nodded eagerly, pressing your lips back against his. He took your legs and wrapped them around his waist. With you pressed so closely to him, you subconsciously began to grind against him as he carried you over to his bed in the corner of the room. He gently laid you on the bed and pressed his forehead to yours, panting. “You can’t— You can’t do that.”

“What?” you asked timidly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Sam shook his head, still trying to catch his breath. “No, no, you’re fine. But I’m not gonna be able to hold back if you keep doing that.”

Hesitantly, you planted your feet on the bed on either side of his hips and began to grind up into him.

A challenge in Sam’s eyes, he leaned back down to kiss you with an unrivaled passion. His hands roamed your torso, careful to avoid the band of your sweatpants. Gently, he ran his hands along the band of your bra. “Can I take this off?”

You nodded feverishly, breath quickening. As soon as he’d gotten it off, Sam began to kiss down your chest while kneading your breasts in his hands. He continued to kiss down your stomach, nipping at the soft flesh every once in a while. When he was eye-level with your clothed pussy, he asked, “Can I take these off?” running his hands over your clothed hips.

You nodded, but Sam could tell something was wrong. “What is it?” He straightened up.

“I’ve just never done this before,” you said honestly.

“It’s okay,” Sam told you. “If you wanna stop, we can stop.”

You quickly shook your head “no.” “Don’t stop, please.”

He chuckled and began to take your sweatpants and underwear down your hips slowly, teasingly.

“Please, Sam,” you said. “I don’t know what this feeling is, but I need you here.” You took his hand and brought it near your throbbing cunt.

He took in a sharp breath, almost seeming unable to contain himself. “Can I touch you?” he asked.

You nodded eagerly, and he pulled your hips closer to the edge of the bed before dragging his fingers through your folds. You keened while his long, thick fingers circled your clit. He then pulled your thighs toward his face and dove between them, lapping at your clit like a man starved. Your hands flew to his head, and he grabbed them, lacing your fingers together. Sam held your hands on either side of your body, gently stroking them with his thumbs in contrast to the fierceness he was eating you out with.

“God, Sam!” you cried, grinding your hips into his face. That simply spurred him on more.

Suddenly, what felt like a knot began to form in your lower stomach. “Wait, Sam,” you said, as the knot began to tighten.

He pulled away from you, bringing his fingers back to your clit while he crawled over the top of you. “Uh-huh?” he asked.

You continued to grind down onto his fingers, closing your eyes at the pleasurable feeling. “Something—” you bit your lower lip to keep yourself from crying out, “Something’s happening.”

Sam smiled. “Don’t worry, okay? It’s normal.”

You nodded breathlessly. “Okay.”

Then, he started to insert his middle finger into you, pulling a sharp breath out of you.

“I know,” he coaxed you. “But I gotta get you ready for me, okay?”

You nodded.

“Words, (Y/N/N),” he asserted.

“Okay,” you said shakily.

Sam inserted one finger, and then, another. He began to move them in and out of you while putting pressure on your clit with the heel of his hand. The feeling was overwhelming, and you tried to close your legs around his hand. However, you were stopped by his body between your legs.

The feeling continued to build and build, and you couldn’t hold back your cries anymore. A string of moans and curses left your mouth.

“Just let it happen, okay? I’ve got you,” Sam told you.

You nodded.

“Words,” he demanded.

“Yes, god, yes,” you replied. “Don’t stop,” you begged.

He scissored his fingers inside of you, pushing you over the edge. The knot in your stomach snapped, and your core began to throb around his fingers.

“God, Sam!” you cried out. “Fuck!”

As your breathing began to slow, he asked, “You okay?” You nodded. “Yeah,” you breathed out. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he smirked lopsidedly.

You looked down at the bulge in jeans, and you looked up at him wantonly.

“No, no, this isn’t about me,” he told you.

“But I wanna make you feel good,” you whined.

“You already are,” Sam told you.

You leaned up to pull his face down to yours, kissing him again to convey everything you felt for him in that moment. You helped him out of his jeans, and once he had a condom on, he began to line himself up at your entrance.

“You sure you want this?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” you nodded. “Please, I need it.”

Slowly but surely, he began to push into you. He put his elbows on either side of your head, allowing you to curl your nails into his back with the pressure you were feeling inside of you.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s uncomfortable,” he told you.

You shook your head, bringing your hands to either side of his face and kissing him deeply. Sam used that opportunity of distraction to push himself all the way inside, causing both of you to moan into each other’s mouths.

Once he’d ensured you adjusted, he began to thrust into you. Sam’s movements were slow and deep, allowing you to feel every inch and ridge of his cock. You closed your eyes and dropped your head back in pure euphoria as he began to pick up his pace, bringing both of you closer to your climaxes.

When you felt the knot beginning to form in your stomach again, you brought your hand to your clit and rubbed circles over it. Sam, having none of it, pushed your hand aside and mimicked the motion himself, allowing you to rake your nails up and down his back. Between the feeling of him thrusting inside of you and the pressure on your clit, the knot inside you snapped.

With a keening cry, you moved your hips in time with histo ride out your high while Sam rode out his. The two of you breathed heaving breaths, allowing time for both of you to come down.

When the both of you were cleaned up and thoroughly spent, Sam held you against his chest while you drew invisible patterns on his upper chest.

With a smile tugging on the ends of his lips, Sam asked, “You still cold?”

Taglist for Emotions:

@slutforfictionalcharacterss @criminalmindsiscool @littledebbieinabigworld

Forever tags are open; Series Rewrite taglist is closed!! :) Requests are open!

#sam winchester x angel!reader #sam winchester x angel!you #sam winchester x angel!y/n #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #supernatural #spn #angel!reader #sam x angel!reader #sam x angel!you #sam x angel!y/n #sam x reader #sam x y/n #sam x you

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anonymousewrites · 18 days ago

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Nobody's Soldier (Book 1) Chapter Eight

Found Family! Supernatural x Teen! Reader

Chapter Eight: Demon Blood

Summary: Dean and (Y/N) learn some unsavory secrets of Sam's.

“Dean?” (Y/N) shook his shoulder. His brow was furrowed, and he was talking in his sleep. “Dean!”

Dean shot up, pulled a gun from under his pillow, and pointed at his “attacker.” Fortunately, (Y/N) already ducked.

“Whoa! Watch it!” they said.

“What the hell are you doing, scaring me like that?” said Dean, chest heaving as he took deep breaths.

“I woke up to you talking to your parents and then grumbling about angels. It sounded like a nightmare,” said (Y/N). “And, uh…” They pointed at the empty bed where Sam had been sleeping. “I saw Sam’s gone. Thought you’d want to know.”

Dean lowered his gun. He had been projected into the past by Castiel, learned about his parents (bizarre), and then been told Sam was doing something dangerous with a demon. Unfortunately (for Sam, that is, he was going to have to deal with Dean being pissed), it seemed to be true.

“Sam,” growled Dean, standing. “Come on. We’re going after him.”

“Is he in danger?” asked (Y/N).

It was likely, as a hunter, but Dean seemed to already know what was happening. They grabbed a t-shirt and tossed it on over their tank-top. Their new anti-possession tattoo pocked out of the straps, a deep black and burning slightly as it protected them. (Y/N) had been nervous getting it, but unlike the needle of a vaccine, they had become accustomed to the feeling. Honestly, (Y/N) didn’t mind it. Anything to avoid demon possession (didn’t sound pleasant at all).

“He’s about to be,” said Dean.

“Did Castiel visit you to tell you something?” said (Y/N), quick on the uptake.

“Sam is doing something that made an angel tell me I stop it or they will,” said Dean. “And he’s sneaking around. That’s trouble.”

Uh-oh.

The impala pulled into the alley beside 425 Waterman. It was an abandoned building, and voices sounded inside. Dean nodded at (Y/N), and they stayed behind him. As they entered the dark cabin, they saw Sam supporting an injured man and Christie, the girl he’d been with when they found him.

“So.” Sam stiffened as Dean spoke. “Anything you want to tell me, Sam?”

(Y/N) hung back as Sam spoke hurriedly, knowing this was a family issue. They weren’t family. They were tagging along.

“Dean, hold on, okay? Just let me—”

“You’re gonna say ‘let me explain?’ ” challenged Dean. “You’re gonna explain this?” Sam faltered. (Y/N) saw “Christie”—they doubted that was her name—look at them suspiciously, and (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. “How about this? How about you start with who she is and what the hell is she doing here?!”

Sam glanced at “Christie” and then glanced down. Dean and (Y/N) looked at her.

“It’s good to see you again, Dean,” said “Christie.”

(Y/N) furrowed their brow. Who was she? And how didn’t Dean know her face if he knew her—Oh. Demon. (Y/N)’s eyes flicked to Sam, and they felt their good feelings about Sam instantly wither. He was working with a demon.

“Ruby?” said Dean slowly.

Ruby. Like what Sam called the knife he had that could kill demons. (Y/N) looked at Ruby. That was her.

Dean looked at Sam, angry disappointment simmering beneath the surface. “Is that Ruby?” Sam swallowed. Dean chuckled mirthlessly.

He grabbed Ruby and shoved her into the wall. Pulling out the demon knife, he raised it above his head. (Y/N) personally applauded his choice.

“Don’t!” Sam interceded and grabbed Dean’s arm.

He wrenched the knife from Dean’s hand, and Dean shoved him. Sam hit the wall, and Ruby reacted instantly. She grabbed Dean and shoved him to the ground. (Y/N) grabbed a small vial of holy water from their pocket—courtesy of their parent’s supplies—and threw it. The galss shattered on Ruby, and she reared back as the water burnt her. Glaring, Ruby lunged for (Y/N), who dove to the side.

“Ruby, stop it!” said Sam as Dean scrambled to his feet and (Y/N) glared back at Ruby defiantly as they circled each other.

Ruby scowled but relaxed.

“Well, aren’t you an obedient little bitch,” snapped Dean, still furious.

Ruby’s head snapped to him, and she took a step towards him. Dean raised his brows, goading her to approach.

“Ruby,” said Sam, voice softer. “Ruby, he’s hurt.” He looked at the human man, who stared at the group with wide eyes. “Go.”

Frustrated, Ruby turned away and went to the man instead of continuing the fight.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” demanded Dean while Ruby supported the man.

“The ER,” snapped back Ruby. “Unless you or the brat want to go for another round first.”

“Try it,” said (Y/N) fiercely despite knowing that without the demon knife, they didn’t have a lot of tricks up their sleeve. But the demon could go and fuck itself if it was trying to scare (Y/N).

Ruby sneered back at them while she led the man out of the abandoned building. Sam, Dean, and (Y/N) were left alone. Dean looked at Sam, gaze hard with disappointment.

“Dean.” Sam’s voice fell off as he tried to find words.

“Come on, (Y/N),” said Dean, walking towards the exit. He hadn’t believed Castiel. Sam didn’t do things like this; there was no reasons angels would want to hurt here. But here he was working with a demon, doing who knows what. He was furious, disappointed, grieving that his brother was different now.

(Y/N) glanced at Sam. Sam had seemed so kind and concerned. Yes, he didn’t want them to hunt, he wanted them to forget about all this, and (Y/N) could never do that after the loss of their parents, but he had come from a place of concern, which (Y/N) had respected. This…This was working with a demon. (Y/N) couldn’t trust that, couldn’t trust him. They followed Dean in silence.

“Dean! (Y/N)!” called Sam. He got no response.

Outside of the building, (Y/N) looked at Dean. “What are you gonna do?”

“Leave. I’m not working with a demon,” said Dean, opening the door of the impala.

(Y/N) hesitated. “Can I come, too?”

Dean looked at them. “I’m not leaving you with that bitch, no. Get in.”

(Y/N) straightened at the assurance, glad they weren’t being left behind with no clue what to do again. Quickly, they got into the car, and Dean drove off back towards the motel.

(Y/N) and Dean entered the motel. Sam was already there, waiting, having sped through backroads to get back there before they did anything he thought was “stupid.”

Dean marched right past Sam and nodded to (Y/N), who opened an old duffle bag and tossed their few (new) possessions in. Dean shoved his clothes away.

“Dean, (Y/N), what are you doing?” said Sam, watching them. “What, are you—are you leaving?”

“You don’t need me,” said Dean. “You don’t need us. You and Ruby go fight demons.”

“Hold on. Hold on,” said Sam, getting between Dean and the door.

“Got your stuff?” said Dean, ignoring Sam and looking at (Y/N).

“Yeah,” said (Y/N).

Dean nodded, and they walked towards the door. Sam reached for Dean, and Dean snapped. Pivoting, he swung and hit Sam across the face. Sam groaned and straightened, lip split.

He swallowed. “You satisfied?”

Dean reared back and hit Sam again. (Y/N) winced.

Sam’s jaw tensed. “I guess not.”

“Do you even know how far off the reservation you’ve gone?” said Dean, voice low and furious. “How far from normal? From human?!”

“I’m just exorcizing demons,” said Sam.

“With your mind!” said Dean. “I know you’re using the powers you shouldn’t have anymore!” He shook his head. “What else can you do?”

“I can send them back to Hell,” said Sam, eyes pleading with Dean to see the merit of his abilities instead of seeing evil. “It only works with demons, and that’s it.”

“What else can you do?” shouted Dean, grabbing Sam’s collar.

“I told you!” said Sam.

“Dean, I think he’s telling the truth,” said (Y/N), stepping forward.

“How can we believe him?” said Dean.

“Look, I should have said something,” said Sam. “I’m sorry. I am. But try to see the other side here.”

“The other side?!”

“I’m pulling demons out of innocent people!”

“Use the knife!”

“What I do, most of them survive!” said Sam.

“Exorcisms work, too,” said (Y/N) sharply. Working with a demon wasn’t the only option there. They weren’t sure whether or not his abilities were evil, per say, but they had witnessed an exorcism from their mom.

“This is faster, controllable!” said Sam. “I’ve saved more people in the last five months than Dean and I save in a year!”

“That what Ruby wants you to think?” said Dean.

(Y/N) looked at Sam, who sighed in exasperation.

“Kind of like the way she tricked you into using your powers?” said Dean. “Slippery slope, brother.” He shook his head in worry and disappointment. “Just wait and see. Because it’s gonna get darker and darker, and God knows where it ends.”

“I’m not gonna let it go too far,” said Sam, urging Dean to listen.

“Sam, everyone says that,” said (Y/N). Their voice was small, quiet. “You want to do good, but what if you don’t see when you do bad?”

Dean pointed at (Y/N). “See? Even a kid with barely any understanding of this shit knows what’s going on is bad news!” He stepped towards Sam furiously. “If I didn’t know you…I would want to hunt you. And so would other hunters.”

(Y/N) flinched, and their eyes went to their shoes. That felt…extreme. Was this world that black and white? Sam wasn’t a monster. He…was making a mistake working with a demon, but did he deserve to die for trying to use his abilities to help people? That didn’t feel like an issue in itself…What Ruby could do with that was the problem.

Sam swallowed silently. His eyes were glassy with tears. “You were gone. I was here. I had to keep on fighting without you. And what I’m doing…it works.”

Dean’s jaw clenched, and he stepped back. “Well, tell me. If it’s so terrific…then why’d you lie about it to me?” Sam looked down again. “Why did an angel tell me to stop you?”

Sam looked up. “What?” he breathed.

“Cas said that if I don’t stop you, he will,” said Dean. “See, what that means, Sam…that means that God doesn’t want you doing this.” Sam flinched. “So, are you just gonna stand there and tell me everything is all good?”

Sam swallowed, and Dean searched his gaze. Neither brother could speak, unsure what to say. (Y/N) shifted uncomfortably. There was a lot they didn’t understand, but they felt this was a deeper, more complex issue that it truly seemed. Maybe they were missing something. They were new to this.

Ring!

Everyone flinched, and the tension was broken. Sam swallowed, grabbed his phone, and answered.

“Hey, Travis.” Sam pinched his nose and cleared his throat. “Yeah, hey. It’s good to hear your voice, too, yeah. Uh, look, it’s not a really good time right now. Yeah, okay. Uh, well, just give the details, and, uh…” He cleared his throat and grabbed a notebook. “Carthage, Missouri,” he repeated. “Looking for Jack Montgomery.” He put his phone back in his pocket. His breaths still came heavily.

Dean swallowed, his own eyes creased in exhaustion and sadness.

“It’s, uh, a case,” said Sam, voice quiet.

“Okay,” said Dean.

“Are you going to…leave?” said Sam softly.

Dean swallowed. He didn’t answer. “Grab your stuff and get in the car.”

Sam’s shoulders sagged in relief. At least his brother wasn’t leaving him right now.

(Y/N) straightened. A case. Their first case as an official hunter. They wondered what it would be.

“I can’t believe it. Mom, a hunter?” said Sam, incredulous.

Dean’s story of what he’d seen while in the past—sent back in a dream by angles—was extraordinary. Azazel, the yellow-eyed demon, had killed Mary’s parents and nearly killed John. Their mother’s family, despite their own family not hunting until Mary’s death, had been hunters, too. Unfortunately, the reasons behind Azazel’s actions still weren’t clear.

Demons are so weird, decided (Y/N). And, what endgame was he after? What more than releasing the Devil could demons be planning?

“I wouldn’t have believed it, either, if I hadn’t seen it myself,” said Dean, shaking his head.

“I can’t believe you didn’t freak out more after travelling to the past,” said (Y/N), leaning forward from the backseat. They were glad the topic of conversation wasn’t on whether or not Sam was a monster, though. This felt…lighter, even if there were consequences to this knowledge.

“Castiel kept popping up,” said Dean. He shook his head and chuckled. “And I saw my mom kick serious ass. That made up for it. I mean, she almost took me down.”

“How’d she look? I mean…was she happy?” asked Sam.

“Yeah, she was awesome,” said Dean. “Funny and smart.” He paused. “So hopeful. Dad, too. Until, of course…”

Sam looked away.

“What?” asked Dean.

“Nothing,” said Sam. “It’s just—our parents, and now we find out our grandparents, too? Our whole family murdered, and for what? So Yellow Eyes could get in my nursery and bleed in my mouth?”

(Y/N) frowned. “Blood? When did that come up?”

Sam swallowed suddenly, and Dean’s grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“(Y/N)’s right. I didn’t say anything about demon blood,” said Dean. The “older brother” tone was coming out. “You knew about that?”

“Yeah…for about a year,” said Sam.

“A whole year,” said Dean incredulously, frustration running through his tone.

“I should have told you. I’m sorry,” said Sam.

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately, Sam,” said Dean. “But whatever.” He smiled, and it was so fake it hurt to look at. “You don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. It’s fine.”

“Dean,” said Sam. He sighed. “Whatever.”

“You guys need to stop hiding things from each other,” said (Y/N).

“It’s Sammy’s business, apparently,” said Dean crossly.

“You were dead for four months,” snapped Sam.

“And you knew eight months before that!” said Dean.

“And you guys wouldn’t be arguing if you told each other the truth,” pointed out (Y/N). “My parents always did that.” They paused and swallowed. “They, uh…they told me its better to tell the truth because lies build up.” Their voice felt hoarse suddenly. “But they lied about our life…”

Dean remained silent, and Sam hesitated.

“Maybe…they thought being a hunter was over,” said Sam. “If no monster bothered them for fourteen years, they probably thought they were out.”

“And then a demon killed them,” said (Y/N) softly.

“They got fourteen years of peace,” said Dean. “No hunters get that.”

“…” (Y/N) didn’t have words for a response.

Through the phonebook, Dean pulled the impala up in front of Jack Montgomery’s house in Carthage, Missouri. In the window a picturesque suburban house, a man and a woman were walking around. Dean and Sam pulled out binoculars and peered at Jack as he headed into the kitchen.

“Are you sure that’s him?” asked Dean.

“Only Jack Montgomery in town,” said Sam.

“And we’re looking for…?” Dean felt skeptical and bored already.

“Travis said to keep an eye out for anything weird,” said Sam, shrugging.

“What does ‘weird’ mean?” asked (Y/N). “I’m weird. Sam’s weird. Dean’s weird.”

“I’m not,” said Dean, affronted.

“You’ve been to Hell,” said (Y/N).

“Yeah, yeah,” said Dean. He lifted his binoculars and looked at Jack. “Well, this guy? Come on, he’s boring.”

“I don’t know, Travis seemed pretty sure,” said Sam.

(Y/N) looked at the window. “Eating with your hands is kind of weird. Not ‘monster’ weird but weird.”

“If it’s a burger, that’s fine,” said Dean, looking closer. “Oh. Ew.”

“What?” Sam looked closer. “Oh.”

“Is that meat red?” asked (Y/N), not able to see everything.

“It’s raw,” said Dean, nose crinkling in disgust.

“I’d say that qualifies as weird,” said Sam. Travis seemed to be on the trail of a monster.

Taglist:

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@introvertathome

@trashcannotbealive

@iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

@dmitrytherat

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spngraphics-archive · 3 months ago

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SPN ABC's April Challenge

This month's creation challenge is simple: each day from April 5th - April 30th will be devoted to one letter of the alphabet. And you are invited to create any type of graphic or gifs pertaining to something SPN related with that letter.

For example: For letter "A" you could make a graphic of Abaddon, or a gifset of various SPN Angels, or a collage of multiple characters whose names start with "A", or a moodboard for a pairing whose ship name starts with "A", etc etc.

What Can You Make?

Any type of graphic! Edits, manips, moodboards, picspams, collages. Gifs are also accepted, though we'd like to see gifsets that play creatively with color, layout / form, typography, and/or textures.

Letter Prompts + Dates

While this is a monthly "challenge", please do not feel pressured to do every single day.

Additionally, these dates are not hard "deadlines." We'd like to see whatever creations you make, whenever you make it!

April 5th: Letter A (ex: Anna, Amara, Adam, Angels…) April 6th: Letter B (ex: Bobby, Bela, the Bunker…) April 7th: Letter C (ex: Cas, Claire, Charlie, Cassie…) April 8th: Letter D (ex: Dean, Death, Demons, Donna…) April 9th: Letter E (ex: Eileen, Emma, Ellen, the Empty, Enochian…) April 10th: Letter F (ex: Fergus, Famine, Faith, Fire…) April 11th: Letter G (ex: Gabriel, Gadreel, Garth, Ghosts, God…) April 12th: Letter H (ex: Heaven, Hell, Hannah, Hael, Home…) April 13th: Letter I (ex: the Impala, Ishim, Illusions…) April 14th: Letter J (ex: Jack, Jo, Jody, John's journal…) April 15th: Letter K (ex: Kevin, Ketch, Kelly…) April 16th: Letter L (ex: Linda, Lisa, Lebanon, Lily Sunder…) April 17th: Letter M (ex: Mary, Missouri, Meg, Michael…) April 18th: Letter N (ex: Naomi, Novaks, Nephil, Nightmare…) April 19th: Letter O (ex: Oskar, Optimism, Ouroboros, Ostium…) April 20th: Letter P (ex: Patience, Purgatory, Prophets, Psychics…) April 21st: Letter Q (ex: Queen of Hell) April 22nd: Letter R (ex: Rowena, Ruby, Raphael, Rufus, Reapers…) April 23rd: Letter S (ex: Sam, Sarah, Scoobynatural, Shapeshifters…) April 24th: Letter T (ex: Tessa, Toni Bevell, Tyson Brady...) April 25th: Letter U (ex: Uriel, Undead, Unhuman Nature, Unity...) April 26th: Letter V (ex: Victor, Vampires, Vessels...) April 27th: Letter W (ex: Winchesters, Werewolves, Witches…) April 28th: Letter X (Ex's / Divorce arcs or Wild Card) April 29th: Letter Y (ex: Yellow Eyes, Young Version of characters...) April 30th: Letter Z (ex: Zachariah, Zanna, Zombies...)

Rules

🚫 NO AI generated content. 🚫 NO incestuous or adult/minor relationships. 🚫 Goes without saying but, no hateful / bigotted content. 🏷️ Please tag any NSFW content accordingly. 🏷️ Please tag for any additional content warnings.

🌟 Additionally please @ us or use our tracked tag #spngraphics-archive so we can see and reblog your creations!

#spnedit #spn edit #spn graphic #spn graphics challenge #events #spngraphics-archive

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samwinchesterswifu · 1 year ago

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Linger pt 2 (Sam Winchester x Reader Angst) (Dean Winchester x Reader Smut)

Season 4 x Episode 22 - Lucifer Rising

Song Inspo: "Linger" by The Cranberries & "Magic Man" by Heart

Warnings: uh smut, p in v (wrap it up), uhm really fucking emotional? Uses of she/her prounouns and women body parts <3

MINORS DNI

A/N: holy. fucking. shit. this is my LONGEST fan fic EVER. im so damn proud of myself. Only took me 2 days to write. Now this isnt an exact episode re-write but there are like 3 scenes from the episode in here and I tried to change up the dialog a little bit so it wasnt exactly copy paste. I truly do love this story. please dont be mad at me lol. but uh yeah more than likely pt 3 coming soon.

Word Count: 3.767k

Summary: Sam goes off with Ruby to stop the seals from breaking, what can she do in the mean time?

She sits on the edge of Bobby’s couch. Her left foot tapping away as she begins to chew her fingers in anticipation. Dean had found him, and instead of her coming along with him, Dean felt it was best for her to stay behind incase things got out of control. The old farm house was deafeningly quiet. Bobby had gone off to calm down after recovering from the shot-gun hit, leaving her alone. It must’ve been around two, or three am but she didn’t care. Sleep was a second thought. What felt like years swimming in her own personal hell, the familiar roar of the Impala pulls into the graveled drive finally separating from her thoughts. She rises from her position and makes her way outside. As she opens the door, Dean is climbing out of the Impala. A serge of panic rises through her once seeing his beat up face. She races down the steps grabbing onto his chin to inspect. Dean groans at the contact.

“What the hell happened?” She asked sternly.

“We got into it.” Dean states rolling his eyes as she continued to examine.

“No shit,” she replies, a snicker sharp on her tongue.

Dean grabs a hold of her wrist stopping her from further jerking his head back and forth. He sighs and locks eyes with her.

“What Dean?” She asks bluntly annoyed by his grasp.

“He was with Ruby.” Dean states as his eyes shift to an apologetic glow underneath the tall street light that loomed over them.

“Figures,” she scoffs, breaking away from Dean’s grip.

She takes a step back from him, wiping her palms against the rough fabric of her jeans.

“I told him not to come back.” Dean spats out.

Her head shoots up to look at him.

“You did WHAT?” She exclaims. Her fists clench, wanting so badly to add to the poor guys face.

“You heard me.” Dean states, arms crossing over his chest.

“You can’t just make that decision for the both of us!” She screams, and pushes him sharply, enough for him to stumble.

“Well I did! You listen to me, he’s not good for you, I’m so sick and tired of watching you be drunk off him when all he does is treat you like shit!” Dean yells at her. Leaving her completely dumbfounded.

“And what gives you the fucking authority to make that decision for me huh?” She raises her voice to match his, stepping toe-to-toe, staring him down.

In a split second, Dean’s hands where cuffing her cheeks and he brings her in for a searing kiss. His lips where sweet but salty, the faint taste of copper mixing in, presumably from the cut on his bottom lip. After a few seconds, she realizes that she was in fact kissing Dean and pulls away. Her hands rested on his shoulders. She looks at him completely shocked. But deep down, she liked it. It was nice to finally have some sort of human connection. At this point, she wasn’t sure if Sam would ever be back in her life and if he would love her enough to be with her. Weighing her options, she reconnects her lips to Deans.

They battle for dominance, teeth clashing as she plays with the hair on the nape of his neck. Dean groans as she tugs on his strands. His sounds leaving her breathless and needy. Dean breaks contact and begins to travel kisses across her cheek, and down her neck. Nibbling harshly at a spot below her ear that made her squirm. His hands traveled down her sides and he taps the curve underneath her ass. Realizing his signal, she jumps. Wrapping her legs tightly against his waist as he holds her steady. Dean reconnects their lips as he begins to walk. But not towards the house. She breaks contact for a brief moment to see where he was headed. He was headed towards the shop.

She locks eyes with Dean. Her gut screaming about whether or not this was the right decision. In this moment, she truly didn’t care. In this moment, Dean seemed like the perfect treat. His features shined against the moonlight and his green eyes were electrified. Her head was spinning by the power Dean seemed to hold at this moment. Maybe, just maybe, Dean could take care of her, treat her right. And that maybe was what she held on to.

She reconnects their lips as they enter the shop. Dean holds her with one arm as he pushes the shop door partially closed. Never once breaking their kiss. He walks her over to shop couch, pushing off the blanket that laid on the seat and some wrenches. They break away as he lays her down. Quickly discarding his shirt on the floor in the process. She does the same and Dean just stares at her.

“Fuck,” he whispers. Taking in her glow. Bobby had left on one of the lamps that were hanging over one of the current cars on the jacks. It was just enough light for them to see each other.

Dean dips down, pulling her breast into his mouth. His mouth was warm and inviting. Moaning at the contact that she didn’t even know she craved. His right hand engulfed her right breast as his tongue played with her left nipple. She squirms against him as soft mewls of pleasure leave her lips. After he seems satisfied with himself, he leans back from her chest. Dean toys with the button of her jeans, after struggling for a bit, he pulls them off gracefully. Groaning at the sight in front of him.

“I don’t know how anyone can pass you up,” he says licking his lips.

A deep blush forms across her cheeks. Its been so long hearing any sort of praise and her soul was being replenished.

As Dean starts to fumble with his belt, she reaches up to help him. Unzipping his jeans, she pushes down his boxers to find him fully erect. She expected Dean to have some length to him, but fuck was he girthy. She wraps her hand around him, slowly pumping. Dean dips his head back in pleasure. She picks up her pace, wiping the pre-cum from his tip to help with the friction. A moan leaves Dean’s lips as she does this and the heat in her core becomes unbearable. She stops, and Dean looks at her completely blissed out from just the slightest touch.

Dean looks at her as if to ask she was okay with this, and if she was ready. She nods and Dean takes a quick moment to kick off his jeans. He places himself back in between her legs and pushes aside her underwear. Dean grabs on to her hips and aligns himself with her. She grabs onto his bicep as he begins to push inside. Both of them seething at the contact. Her grip tightens as he stretches her earning a groan from the man. Dean is slow with it, inching closer and closer until he was completely inside. Both of them moaning at the feeling. She felt so full that it was making her dizzy.

Once allowing her a few moments to adjust to his length, Dean unleashes a brutal attack. His thrust start off fast and hard. Her moans fill up the shop and she prayed that no one was outside to hear her. Dean was a god, he moved exactly the right away and kept his pace steadily. Her first orgasm came within minutes. The second one falling behind shortly after.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking, goo-“ Dean grunts. Being cut off with his own thrust.

The opposite hand from holding himself steady rose and grasped around her throat. This fucking man knew how to choke someone. The pressure from his grasp makes her third orgasm more violent than the first. Her moans turned into screams as he just continued on his attack. A fourth and fifth orgasm rippled through her bones. Her eyes swelled with tears at the immense amount of pleasure she was being supplied.

However, Dean’s thrust became more and more unstable. He was close and she wanted to milk every last drop out of him.

“Cum in me, please,” she grasps out in between moans.

Dean looks at her bewildered by her request but nods.

“Okay, okay, fuck-“ Dean thrusts a few more times before he fills her up completely. His orgasm bringing on her final one at the same time.

Both of them sit there for a moment, Dean was still inside of her as they catch their breaths. Their eyes lock for a moment and both let out a small laugh. Dean slowly pulls out of her, both moaning at the loss of contact. Dean takes a moment before grabbing his and her pants from the floor tossing them to her. Slipping them on, she grabs her discarded shirt and throws it back on as Dean does the same. She was completely wiped by this point. She yawns, and Dean takes note of it. Grabbing the shop blanket that was thrown about, he motions behind her. Surprised by his actions, she allows Dean to settle behind her as he throws the shop blanket across them. He stretches out his right arm to allow her to use it as a pillow as his left arm lays across her waist. She snuggles close to him and starts to drift to sleep feeling protected.

The morning sun peaks through the crack of the shop door, shining just right to stir her from slumber. She blinks her eyes open, looking around to figure out her surroundings as last night’s memories play back. She notices that Dean was no longer behind her and no where in the shop to be found. She sighs, tossing the shop blanket to the side and makes her way back towards the house, seeing Bobby’s car back in the drive. She groans at the thought of having to explain herself to Bobby. But as she gets closer to the house she can hear yelling from inside.

“Don’t make me get my gun boy,” Bobby’s voice of retribution laces through the hallways as she makes her way inside. It was unsettling to hear Bobby stern.

“We are damn near kick off for Armageddon, don’t you think we got bigger fish to fry?” she can hear Dean state from the living room as she makes her presence known. Both men looking towards her as she does so.

“Where the hell have you been?” Bobby asks sternly, arms crossing over his chest.

“I, uh-“ she stutters, pointing towards the door, unsure of how to explain she fell asleep in the shop.

Dean looks up at her innocently, shaking his head as if to say to not say a damn word.

“Never mind.” Bobby huffs.

She gulps, her throat stuffed with anxiety.

“I know you’re pissed, and I’m not making apologies for what he’s done, but he’s your-“

“Blood? He’s my blood, is that what you’re gunna say?” Dean cuts Bobby and he sighs in response.

“He’s your brother.” Bobby states,

“And he’s drowning,” the old man sighs looking between the both of them. Nodding his head towards Dean’s direction to try to get her to weigh in on the situation.

“Maybe Bobbys right Dean, he needs our help.” She chimes in, a groan leaving Dean’s lips at her response.

“I tried to help him Y/N, I already did.” Dean replies.

“So try again.” Bobby rebuttals. However he takes notes of how uneasy Dean had became once she entered the house.

“Did something happen between you two?” Bobby asks, looking at Dean. Dean shoots her a panicked look as Bobby shoots a glare towards her.

“No, no- we’re fine,” she comments. Bobby makes a soft “uh huh” under his breath clearly not believing them.

“it’s too late-“ Dean states as he strides towards the stair case.

“There’s no such thing,” Bobby says trying any way he can to get Dean to calm down.

“No, damn it!” Dean shouts. He was evidently annoyed by this whole conversation.

“No.” He sighs, the man was stubborn she’d give him that.

“Look, we got to face the facts. Sam never wanted to be apart of this family. He hated our life growing up. Ran away to school first chance he got. Now it’s like Déjà VU all over again.” Dean shifts on the edge of his heels as he leans down to sit on the couch behind him.

“Well I am sick and tired of chasing after him, you should be too.” Dean pauses, point directly at her.

“Screw him, he can do what he wants.” Dean sneers.

“You don’t mean that-“ Bobby starts before getting cut off again by Dean.

“Yes I do Bobby,” he sighs. “Sammy’s gone.”

“I’m not even sure if he’s still my brother anymore. If ever was,” Dean’s voice cracks at the pain. A deep look forms over his eyes, a sad one. It hurt her to see him so distraught over Sam, because she was too.

Bobby pushes himself off his desk, pacing back and forth before suddenly throwing everything off of it.

“You stupid, stupid son of a bitch!” Bobby yells and Dean rises to meet him. She backs away from them honestly a bit scared from the interaction.

“Well boohoo! I am so sorry your feelings are hurt princess! Are you under the impression that family supposed to make you feel good? Bake you an apple pie maybe? They’re supposed to make you miserable! That’s why they’re family!” Bobby screams, stomping his foot in frustration.

“I told him that if he walked out that door to not come back, and that’s what he did Bobby!” Dean yells back, walking past him as his fist clenches.

“You sound like a brat-“ Bobby mocking in his response.

“No,” Dean whispers coming near her, and his back facing Bobby. Unsure of how to comfort him in the moment.

“You sound like John. Well let me tell you something, John was a coward.” Bobby states.

“You are a better man than your daddy ever was.” Bobby replies, Dean snickers in bewilderment.

“Don’t be him.” Bobby’s words cut through her. Growing up around John Winchester taught her a lot about how not to be a family and she was starting to regret pushing Sam away.

She could see Dean thinking, and he looks to her with pleading eyes begging for help in those moment. She shook her head, and dean scoffed again turning to face Bobby when suddenly he was gone.

“Dean?!” She screeches, her voice cracking in the process. Both her and Bobby looking frantically around the house.

“Oh, balls!” Bobby yells, kicking the side of his desk.

But just as suddenly Dean disappeared, Castiel stood before her.

“Hello Y/N,” Castiel greets her, looking towards Bobby giving him a nod.

“Where the hell is Dean Castiel!” She asks ready to take on the angel in front of her.

“We have him, it’s almost time.” Castiel bluntly replies.

“We? You mean the angels have him?” She asks a new wave of panic sifts through her blood stream.

“Yes, we have him, don’t worry he’s safe.” Castiel states. Before she could respond Castiel was gone again.

She screams in frustration, grabbing the nearest book and tossing it in the direction where the angel once stood.

“Here,” Bobby says tapping her shoulder and handing her a glass of whiskey.

“Thanks,” she responds. Taking in a heaping swig to off set her nerves.

Setting down the cup, she lays down on the closest couch stretching her legs out and sighing at todays events.

“So, what happened between you two?” Bobby asks again this time really letting on that he needed to know.

“I did something stupid Bobby.” She replies reaching over to the cup of whiskey taking another sip before continuing.

“Dean and I slept together.” She blurts out. Groaning at the thought of last night.

“You did what?” Bobby asks, a sliver of disbelief hanging on his tongue.

“Yeah, last night, in your- in your shop.” She grunts out. Letting out another huff in embarrassment.

“You stupid stupid girl! Seriously! Dean of ALL people?” Bobby yells making her jump at his sudden voice raise.

“I know Bobby-“ She starts before getting cut off.

“I don’t think you understand woman, if Sam finds and he will, he’s gunna be pissed.” Bobby snickers taking back the cup that he had previously handed to her. A quick ‘hey!’ at his action leaves her lips.

“What were you thinking?” Bobby sighs shaking his head at her.

“I was upset too Bobby, Sam’s made it evident that he doesn’t want to be with me.” She shrugs. Completely drained by everything that’s happened over the last 48 hours.

“He does want to be with you, you idjit.” Bobby tells her bluntly. Almost as if they were repeating the same conversation as before, but centered on her this time.

“No he doesn’t Bobby,” she responds, tears choking up her words as she fight back all the hurt she experienced because of the youngest Winchester.

“Yes he does Y/N, that kid is so madly in love with you he’s doing all of this for you- to give you a better world, I know his actions doesn’t seem it but that’s what he doing kiddo, for you.” Bobby says, handing her back the previously taken whiskey glass.

She lays there silently for a moment before taking another sip of the glass. She doesn’t respond to Bobby before sitting up and pushing her self off the couch. Grabbing her cellphone that laid on the side table, she makes her way outside. She walks around to the shop to get some privacy incase Bobby came looking.

Taking a deep breath, she calls Sam’s cellphone. After a few rings its sent to voice mail where she hesitates for a quick moment of what she was going to say.

“Sammy,” she starts, taking another deep breath before continuing.

“You don’t have to do this. Come back to Bobby’s please, we’ll figure out another way, you and me, come back to me, please. My sweet boy please, just come back to me.” She finishes the phone call.

Her heart ached, frustrated and annoyed with herself. How could she be so stupid and go behind Sam’s back like that? The sun was almost rested in the sky at this point in the evening, the moon peaking over the tower of cars that laid in the salvage yard. She decides to go back inside, wanting to distract herself with cooking something at the very least.

But as she turns around to start her way back, she is met with Castiel and Dean in front of her. Dean tries to say something before Castiel is grabbing her and before she can protest they were standing in front of the prophet Chuck.

“God damn it Cas!” She yells, stumbling, and trying to catch her balance.

“Oh this isn’t supposed to be happening-“ Chuck says while simultaneously on the phone.

“No- lady this is definitely supposed to be happening, but I uh, I gotta call you back.” Chuck says to the woman on the phone before disconnecting the call.

“St. Marys? What is that a convent?” Dean asks reading over the newly written Supernatural Script.

“Yeah but-but you guys aren’t supposed to be there.” Chuck responds. “You’re not in this story,” he finishes, completely flustered by their arrival.

“We’re making it up as we go.” Cas states. Dean looks between the angel and her, also confused by the angels actions. She shrugs at his glance.

Then, the familiar sound of angel static and bright lights fill the room.

“Oh no not this again!” Chuck groans, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“It’s the archangel!” Castiel screams over the sound. A wave of panic flushes Dean’s features and he looks like he is a bout to pass out from the sheer rush of adrenaline.

“I’ll hold them off, just stop Sam!” Castiel yells, looking between her and Dean.

Touching both of them at the same time, they’re transported to a new location. Dean takes a moment to look around to realize that they’re at the convent. He grabs a hold of her hand and starts to walk down the hallway in front of them. The round a corner to find Sam and Ruby in the main chapel room with Lilith on the ground. Ruby turns to look at the two and smirks. A deep scrawl forms on both of their faces, preparing to kill the demon bitch. With a flick of her wrist, Ruby closes the door on them.

Rushing to the door way, they both start to bang on the old wooden doors. Yelling his name at the top of their lungs. She pushes Dean out of the way and uses her whole body weight against the door to try to pry it open. She was desperate at this point, tears threatened to break loose from her lashes. Wanting nothing more than to save him.

“Move!” Dean yells. Turning around she see’s him holding a statue and she grabs a hold of it. The two of them ram the door open and Ruby turns to face them.

Grabbing the demon knife from Dean’s pocket she strides towards Ruby.

“You’re too late.” Ruby laughs.

“I don’t care,” she snickers back.

Sam stands up quickly, grabbing a hold of Rubys arms as she makes the final blow. Twisting the knife to make sure she was truly dead. Ruby starts to flash out, and sick smile forms on her lips as she watches.

Ruby finally drops dead and Sam pushes Ruby to the side. Sam takes a moment to look at her, and Dean before resting on her face.

“I’m sorry,” Sam chokes out.

He takes a step forward and his hands come to cuff her cheeks, bringing her in for a quick kiss. The ground beings to rumble as a bright light shoots from the center. This throws off their balance making her fall into Sam. Dean looks between the two of them, his words stuck on his throat unsure of what to say. They all three turn to look at the hole that was beginning to form. Dean grabs onto both of them frantically.

“Y/N, Sammy, lets go-“ Dean spats out. Sam grabs on to Dean, staring down the light.

“Dean?” Sammy asks and Dean looks to him concerned.

Sam chokes on broken tears.

“He’s coming-“

#sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader angst #dean winchester x reader smut #season 4 supernatural

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losers-clvb · 3 months ago

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wip folder tag game

thank you for the tags @blossomingorchids, @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth, @my-stories-vault, @littlesoulshine, @pieandflannel, @honeyroots, and @soldiersgirl! you all are lovely!

rules: in a new post, post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet or tell us about it. then tag as many people as you have wips.

usually, i don't have full-on wips, i'll write them then post them. so, here's some of the more formed ideas i've got. some are actual wips, but not most. not all of these are the final titles.

dean winchester

cowboys and angels

mini me

calling dr. winchester (series)

made of honor (mini series)

"got the one thing that i want" part two (request)

dean + horror movies (request)

"rebound" part two ("rebound" was sam x reader, but this is gonna be dean x reader... hehe)

woman of letters (i promise the next parts are coming soon, i just have zero motivation for it :') )

sam winchester

party girl! reader (parts 4-6)

mess it up

trauma

thighs

pomegranate (possible series)

ruby 2.0

let me show you how

castiel

assassin/spy!reader (small series)

billy butcher

"tastes like candy" part two (kinda request)

soldier boy

"p*rnstar" part two (kinda request)

"meeting the family" continuations (at least six more lol)

---

i really hope i didn't miss any. please ask any questions you may have about these!

no pressure tags: @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @xoswiftieprincess @mostlymarvelgirl @sacr1ficialang3l @daylighted @bluemerakis @tusk-rumours @dollyfetti @mellowyellowdaydream @jollyhunter @missus-ackles @ambiguous-avery @rositaslabyrinth @titsout4jackles @saltcxrcle @wchswift @h8aaz @angelicjackles

#tag game #wip game #my wips

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h8aaz · 3 months ago

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tysm for the tags @bejeweledinterludes & @wchswift !!

theres SO MANY but then i also have requests in my inbox that i need to do after all of these omg 💔💔 also these are NOT in order + only a few of these have been written for!!

nobody gets me (like you) — braeden lemasters

earth girl who loves space girl — ruby x hunter!reader

size difference — sam winchester

assistance — castiel

taboo — ruby x angel!reader

strawberry flavored lightning bolt — jo x hunter!reader

spilled my guts at the red light — ruby x hunter!reader (preq.)

baby driver — soldier boy x babydriver!reader (part 1)

save a horse — cordell walker

anger management — five hargreeves

motivation — dean winchester (p!link fic)

clean sheets — blueberry!sam

return of the king — helmet!reader

cheer practice — cheerleader!reader

list of firsts — sweetgirl!reader

npt tags!: @starzify @sunsbaby @soldiersgirl @daylighted @titsout4jackles @ultravi0lence14 @deansbeer @figthoughts @sacr1ficialang3l @j2archives @saltcxrcle + anyone else who wants to participate!

#gabs ⛤ writes .ᐟ #gabs' ⛤ readers .ᐟ #tag game #my drafts are suffering lol #this isnt even including my jackles blog which is even more omg

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plasticflowersinahistorycemetery · 3 months ago

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sweet thing

part I

Pairing: Sam x Ruby x Innocent!Fem!Reader

Summary: Sam and Ruby have played the long game. And you're innocence is about to be lost.

Warnings: 18+!, language, manipulation, demon blood era Sam, Ruby is a warning by herself, corruption, coercion, praise, smut (dirty talk, kissing, fingering, oral/cunnilingus, overstim, p in v, spitting, threesome f/f/m), I may have missed some.

Word Count: 6,245

A/N: OH BOY. Zoe, my sweetpea, I hope you liked this one. I know I REALLY liked it... I'm sorry it's so long, but also... not sorry at all, aha. Anyways... give me some feedback, y'all. Please. I love when I get comments on things that come out of my very pathological brain. This was born because I'm ovulating. Shush. <3 I might write more Ruby stuff in all honestly, because... well, Ruby. RUBY SUPREMACY. All the love.

You didn't mean to stay with them.

At first, it was just a night. One blood-soaked hunt, too many screams, and Sam stepping between you and something you weren't ready for. He didn't say much—just pressed a cloth to your arm, asked your name in that quiet, steady voice, and told you it was going to be okay.

Ruby smiled behind him like she already knew it wouldn't be.

They brought you back to their motel room, patched you up with gentle hands and dark eyes, and you didn't leave the next day. Or the next. Or the one after that.

Two months later, you still didn't know why.

You told yourself it was safety. That the way Sam looked at you—soft and too-long—was protection, not possession. That Ruby's fingers brushing your thigh were comfort, not calculation. You convinced yourself they needed you.

But deep down, you knew the truth.

You were theirs. They had decided that long before you realised you had no choice in the matter.

They met you at your worst—bloody, shaking, stupid with adrenaline. Your first real hunt had gone sideways, and whatever experience you thought you had meant nothing when the claws hit skin. You should've died. You were ready to. But Sam was there, and Ruby moved like smoke, and the thing was gone before you even saw it clearly.

"Poor baby," Ruby had murmured, crouching beside you while Sam checked your wounds. "Too pretty to go out like that."

You'd flinched when she touched you, and she smiled like that was her favourite part.

You never asked why they took you with them. Sam had said something about keeping an eye on you, but his mouth twitched like it wasn't the whole truth. Ruby just grinned and said you were better off not knowing. You nodded. You didn't ask again.

At first, they let you come on hunts. Small ones. Salt-and-burns, poltergeists. Sam showed you how to hold a blade properly. Ruby taught you how to lie. You were good at both.

But over time, they started leaving you behind.

"It's too dangerous," Sam said.

"She's not ready," Ruby added, her hand stroking your back through the thin cotton of your shirt.

You didn't argue. You told yourself it was kindness. That they were protecting you. That it wasn't about keeping you soft.

But then came the looks. The touches. The nights where Sam would come back covered in blood, eyes sharp with something feral, and Ruby would kiss his knuckles while you watched from across the room, trying not to shake.

They never made you watch. But they never really let you look away, either.

They talked about him sometimes.

Dean.

You only ever caught the name in whispers. "He wouldn't understand." or,"Dean would've stopped this." or, "Dean's gone." Always followed by a pause. Always followed by Ruby looking at Sam like she was daring him to fall apart.

You didn't know who he was. You didn't ask.

Every time you got too close to the door, every time you hovered outside just long enough to hear more, one of them would call out like they felt you there.

Sam's soft: "Baby?"

Or Ruby's syrupy: "Sweet thing, come here."

You always obeyed.

Sometimes, when they thought you were asleep, Sam would sit at the edge of your bed and run his hand down your hair. Just once. Just enough to make your breath catch. Sometimes, Ruby would slip under the covers beside you and whisper nonsense until you drifted off—half-lullaby, half-possession.

You weren't sure when it stopped being strange. You only knew that when they were gone too long, your chest felt empty. And when they came back, you'd breathe again. You weren't stupid. You just didn't know how to leave.

The rain started two hours ago.

It tapped against the window in slow, steady beats, like a clock winding down—like something counting out the seconds until they came back. You sat curled on the end of the bed in your pyjamas, legs pulled up, sleeves hanging past your wrists. The television glowed faintly in the dark, but you weren't watching. You hadn't really watched anything in days.

You just waited. You always waited.

The door creaked open a little after midnight.

Sam came in first, wet to the shoulders, eyes shadowed and far away. Blood soaked one sleeve of his shirt. You didn't ask whose. Ruby followed behind him, skin shining with water, hair stuck to her cheeks like tendrils.

She smiled when she saw you. Not kind. Not cruel. Just... like she already knew.

"Still awake, baby?" Her voice was smoke and candy.

You nodded. Sam didn't say anything. He locked the door behind them, set his knife down on the table like he was placing something sacred. You watched his hands—big, veined, careful. Ruby peeled off her jacket and let it drop to the floor.

"Poor thing," she murmured, walking past him. "All alone in the dark. Bet you were scared."

You opened your mouth to protest, but she was already kneeling in front of you, wet fingers brushing your knee where your pyjama shorts had ridden up. Her touch was cold. You shivered.

"Didn't like being away from us, huh?"

Sam sat down in the chair across from the bed, his legs spread wide, elbows on his knees. His eyes never left you.

"She hates it," he said softly. "I think she's scared we won't come back."

You looked down, cheeks burning.

"I'm not—"

"It's okay," Ruby cooed. "You should be scared. There's bad things out there, sweet girl. Things that want to hurt you. But we'd never let that happen." She leaned closer, nose brushing your jaw. "You know that, right?"

You nodded. Her hand slid higher on your thigh.

"You're a good girl."

There had been... moments.

Once, in another town, Ruby had let you sleep against her in the back of the car, and you'd woken to find her fingers in your hair and Sam's eyes on your legs in the rearview.

Once, when you'd had a nightmare, Sam had pulled you into his lap, shirtless and half-asleep, and you'd felt him hard under you. He didn't move. He didn't stop either.

Once, Ruby had kissed your neck while laughing at something Sam said, and you'd gone stiff all over, heart beating like you were running from something. But she only giggled and said, "So easy to fluster. It's adorable."

You weren't sure when your body had stopped listening to you. Or when the idea of leaving had started to sound like dying.

Ruby climbed up behind you on the bed now, curled against your back, legs bracketing yours.

"You've been so patient with us," she whispered against your neck. "Hasn't she, Sam?"

He hummed low in his throat, eyes raking down your frame.

"She's always good," he murmured. "Even when she doesn't understand."

Your breath caught. Ruby kissed just behind your ear.

"Do you want to understand, baby?"

You nodded before you knew what you were agreeing to.

Ruby smiled against your skin. Sam stood slowly, crossing to the bed, and the air changed—thickened. You watched him the whole way, your lips parting when he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your cheek.

"We'd never lie to you," he said, low and warm. "But there are things you're not ready for. Things that would scare you."

"We keep you soft because we love you," Ruby added, her hand sliding up your arm. "Don't you like being soft for us?"

You swallowed hard. "I... I think so."

Sam's mouth curled at the corner.

"That's our girl."

He leaned down and pressed his lips to your forehead—so tender it made your eyes sting. His hand cupped your jaw, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth.

"You don't have to think so," he whispered. "You just have to be."

They didn't kiss you that night. They didn't touch you like that. But Ruby held you in bed, and Sam sat in the chair until morning, watching. His hands didn't stop shaking. You didn't ask why.

You dreamt of red eyes and whispered names and Sam's voice saying, "She's ours. No one touches her but us."

You woke up aching and didn't know why.

They thought you were asleep. You were supposed to be. The lights were off, your hoodie was still warm from Ruby's perfume, and you'd curled up like always—safe and small beneath too many blankets in too big a bed.

But something about the way they said "we need to talk" had twisted in your chest.

Ruby's hand had been gentle on your back as she whispered to Sam that they'd take the room next door. Just for a bit. Just to "talk business." You'd nodded sleepily, like a good girl. Like someone who didn't immediately sit up the second the door clicked shut.

Now?

Now you were barefoot on the cheap motel carpet, heart fluttering, palm pressed to the adjoining door like it might burn you.

It was cracked open. Just an inch. Just enough.

Their voices leaked through, low and urgent.

"She's not ready," Sam was saying. His voice was strained—tired, fraying at the edges. "She's barely holding on as it is. If we push too hard—"

"She's perfect, Sam." Ruby's voice was velvet and smoke. "She's soft, scared, completely dependent. She'd do anything you asked."

Silence.

Then Ruby again, slower this time. Sharper.

"You think you're protecting her by waiting. But you're just dragging it out. You're making her confused. She doesn't know what you want. And she's starting to wonder."

Something slammed—maybe his hand against the table, maybe his fist against the wall. You pressed your hand tighter to the doorframe, mouth dry.

"She's pure." Sam again. Quieter. Like it hurt to say. "She trusts us. I don't want to ruin that."

"You already have." Ruby's tone turned sweet. "And she loves you for it."

You swallowed hard. And then—just as your breath caught and you started to step back—

"She's here."

Your blood turned to ice.

"She's listening."

Ruby opened the door before you could run.

She stood framed in soft yellow light, one shoulder bare, hair tumbling over her collarbone. Her lips curved when she saw you—like a cat catching something small and trembling.

"Hi, baby."

Your voice caught. "I—I didn't mean to—"

"Of course you didn't," she purred. "Come here."

You hesitated.

Her fingers extended slowly. Her voice softened into something intimate and honey-warm.

"You don't have to listen at the door, sweet thing. If you want to know what we're talking about, you just have to ask."

You stepped forward before you meant to. Her hand curled around yours and tugged you gently into the room.

Sam was standing beside the table, hands braced on the wood like he'd been holding himself up. His eyes met yours—and he looked wrecked. Pupils blown wide. Jaw clenched. Like you'd caught him mid-sin.

"She shouldn't—" he started, but Ruby cut him off.

"She should."

She brought you closer, her body warm behind yours as she pressed you into Sam's line of sight.

"You want to protect her?" She whispered, lips ghosting your ear. "Then stop pretending she doesn't already belong to us."

Sam exhaled hard. His gaze dropped—your bare legs, the hem of your sleep shirt, the way your breathing had turned shallow.

"We're not trying to hurt you," he said hoarsely. "You know that, right?"

You nodded. You meant it. Your voice trembled anyway.

"I trust you."

Ruby made a pleased sound behind you. Her hands skimmed your waist, resting low on your hips.

"Good girl," she murmured.

You felt her smile against your neck.

"That's all we've ever wanted."

They didn't kiss you. Not yet. But Ruby turned you around in her arms, pressed your forehead to hers and said:

"You're already halfway gone, baby. Just let go."

Sam stood frozen, fists clenched at his sides. You didn't see the moment he stepped forward—but you felt it. The heat. The pull. The weight of him.

"We'll take care of you," he whispered. "You don't have to think anymore. You just have to be ours."

You closed your eyes and nodded. You didn't understand what was wrong with Sam—but something was.

His chest was rising too fast. His jaw clenched and unclenched like it was wired too tight, and his eyes... his eyes looked wrong. Black-ringed, glossy, so blown out you could barely see the colour. He looked at you like he was starving.

Like he'd been starving for a while.

Ruby was calm. Radiant. She moved with syrup-slow precision, curling one hand around your wrist and bringing it to her lips as she smiled at Sam.

"She's so good for us," she murmured. Her breath was warm against your skin. "Aren't you, baby?"

You nodded before you even knew what you were agreeing to.

Sam made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. His fists tightened where they hung at his sides.

"Ruby..." he said low, like a warning.

But she just giggled—light, pretty, dangerous.

"She wants this," she said simply. "You think I haven't seen the way she watches you? The way she trembles when you say her name?"

She turned toward you, brushing a finger along your jaw.

"Don't you want to be touched, sweet thing?"

You couldn't speak. You could only nod again, your lips parted, breath shaky. You felt like your whole body was made of heat and nothing.

Ruby kissed you before you could think.

It wasn't soft—not really. It was slow, but insistent, her mouth warm and firm against yours. Her hands gripped your waist like she owned you. Like she had every right. Her tongue slipped past your lips and you gasped into it, your knees going weak, clinging to her shirt like it might save you.

When she pulled back, you were dizzy.

"See?" She said sweetly. "So easy."

She led you backward, fingers laced in yours, and gently sat you down in the worn motel chair by the window. The fabric was cold under your bare thighs.

Sam hadn't moved. He stood like a statue at the foot of the bed, chest heaving, eyes locked on yours like he couldn't look away.

"Sit," Ruby told him, her tone turning just slightly firmer.

And he did.

She guided him down until he sat at the edge of the bed—his legs spread, boots still planted on the carpet. He looked massive, ruined, caught in the middle of something he couldn't name. His hands gripped the edge of the bed like he was afraid to touch anything.

Ruby turned back to you, lips wet, cheeks flushed.

"Watch closely, baby."

She climbed into Sam's lap in one slow, fluid motion, straddling him. His hands hovered at her sides like he was afraid to hold her. But Ruby leaned in, close to his ear, speaking words too soft for you to hear.

Then she turned her head to look at you—smiling. Like this was all a show, and you were the only audience that mattered.

"He's so worked up, poor thing," she purred. "Do you want a turn?"

Your breath caught.

"You wanna be a good girl and help us feel better?"

You nodded, your thighs clenching together on instinct.

Ruby kissed Sam then—messy and deep, her fingers in his hair. He groaned into it, hands finally finding her hips. She rocked against him once and his whole body jerked.

"Fuck," he muttered, voice shredded. "Ruby—"

She pulled back and looked at you again.

"Come here, sweet thing."

You stood on shaky legs.

"Take my place," she whispered, climbing off him slowly, deliberately, dragging her fingers down his chest. "Be good."

You moved without thinking.

Sam's eyes were wild when you stepped between his knees—dark and blown, lips parted. His hands hovered, not quite touching.

Ruby slid behind you, her arms around your waist as she guided you down—down into his lap, your knees bracketing his thighs, your breath coming short and fast.

"That's it," she whispered, lips against your ear. "Feel how hard he is for you? How much he wants you?"

You whimpered, your thighs tightening as she rocked your hips forward once—slow, grinding you down against him.

Sam's head dropped back with a groan.

"Ruby—fuck, she doesn't—"

"She wants to," Ruby said. "Don't you, baby?"

You nodded helplessly.

"Say it," Ruby coaxed. "Tell him you want to make him feel good."

Your voice was barely a breath.

"I want to make you feel good..."

Sam's hands finally touched you. Gripped your hips hard enough to bruise. His voice cracked when he said your name.

Ruby purred.

"Good girl."

You didn't mean to moan—but it slipped out anyway.

Just a soft, broken sound in the back of your throat as Ruby rocked your hips forward again, grinding you down into the thick, aching heat of Sam's cock through his jeans.

His head dropped forward, mouth brushing your collarbone. He made a noise like he was choking on the feel of you.

"Fuck, she's—Ruby, I can't—"

"You can," she whispered, wrapping her arms around you from behind. "You will. Look at her, Sammy. Look how sweet she is. So wet for you already and you haven't even touched her yet."

Your sleep shirt had ridden up to your waist, bunched just under your ribs. Sam's hands were under it now—hot and wide and shaking, gripping your hips like he was holding back an earthquake. You could feel every twitch of him beneath you, trapped behind the denim, burning through it.

You couldn't stop shaking.

"You wanna help him, don't you?" Ruby's voice was syrup in your ear. "He's been so good. He's been waiting for you. Doesn't he deserve to feel good?"

You nodded, eyes fluttering.

"Yes..."

"Say it, baby. Say I want to make Sam feel good."

Your breath hitched.

"I... I want to make Sam feel good."

Sam groaned like it hurt. His head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut, lips parted and flushed.

"Jesus Christ..."

Ruby's hands slid down your belly, fingertips just brushing the waistband of your panties. You gasped.

"That's our good girl," she whispered. "So responsive. So needy. Tell me, baby—have you ever been touched like this before?"

You whimpered. "No..."

"Mm." She kissed just behind your ear. "Even better."

Her fingers slid lower.

Sam's hands were everywhere now—your thighs, your waist, your lower back. His grip was rough, frantic, like he didn't know where to start. Like he wanted all of you at once.

"Ruby, I need—"

"I know," she said sweetly, pulling your panties to the side and slipping two fingers through the soaked heat between your thighs. "Look at her, Sam. She's dripping."

Your whole body jolted. You tried to twist away from the sensation, but Ruby only giggled and held you still.

"Shh, baby. Let us take care of you. You're doing so well."

She pulled her hand away slowly, teasing, and brought her fingers to Sam's mouth.

"Open."

He obeyed without thinking—lips parting as Ruby slid her fingers past them. He moaned low, guttural, eyes dark with something feral as he tasted you for the first time.

You made a wounded little sound, thighs trembling, head falling forward.

"Fuck—" he breathed. "She's... Ruby, she's perfect."

"I told you," she said, brushing your hair back, tucking it behind your ear like you were porcelain. "Didn't I say she'd be perfect?"

Then she leaned in again, voice like sin wrapped in silk.

"You ready for more, sweet thing?"

You couldn't speak. You just nodded. And it seemed that was all the encouragement Sam needed to shift the two of you further back onto the bed, keeping you pressed to him the entire time.

Ruby moved to sit behind you on the bed, one leg tucked under her, the other bracketing your thigh. Her hands slid up your sides, slow and soothing.

"Ride him just like that, baby," she whispered. "You're making him feel so good."

You whimpered, your hands resting on Sam's shoulders, your hips rocking in slow, helpless circles as heat curled tighter in your belly.

"You wanna keep going?" She asked, her voice dipped in honey. "Wanna make him feel even better?"

You nodded, dizzy and breathless.

"Then be a good girl and let me help you."

Her fingers slipped between your thighs again—this time not teasing. She manoeuvred you up off Sam's lap for a second, hooked her thumbs in your panties and dragged them down slowly, peeling them off and dropping them to the floor like they meant nothing.

Sam groaned beneath you, head tipping forward to rest against your chest.

"Jesus fucking Christ..."

Ruby smiled against your shoulder and whispered like a secret:

"Now ride him for real, sweet thing."

You were shaking.

Not from fear. Not exactly. But from something hot and thick curling in your belly, something too big to name. Your panties were gone, discarded on the floor like they'd never mattered. Sam was still hard beneath you, denim rough against your bare heat, and your hips were moving because Ruby told you to.

You were soaked.

You knew it. You felt it. The fabric of his jeans was sticky between your thighs and Sam was groaning, his head bowed low, sweat dampening the ends of his hair as he clutched at your waist like he might lose control.

It was too much.

"I... I don't know what to do," you whispered, voice trembling. "What do I... do?"

Ruby leaned in behind you again, her hands smoothing over your thighs, her lips brushing your ear.

"Aw, baby," she crooned. "You've really never done this before, have you?"

You swallowed hard, heart pounding.

"No..."

"Anything?" She asked softly, deceptively gentle. "Have you ever touched yourself? Let anyone else touch you?"

You flushed so hard your skin burned.

"N-no. I—I mean, not... not really..."

Ruby made a pleased little sound, like you'd just handed her the key to a locked room she'd been dying to enter.

"God, you really are perfect."

Her hands squeezed your thighs gently, her mouth warm at your jaw.

"Do you want to learn, sweet thing? Want to let us show you what feels good?"

You nodded, dazed.

"Say it."

"I... I want you to show me."

"Good girl."

Ruby kissed your shoulder, then gently—almost reverently—lifted you off of Sam's lap. He let out a breathless, broken sound, like even losing your weight made him ache. Ruby turned to him, tone shifting just enough to make it clear who was in charge here.

"Back," she said. "Now."

Sam didn't argue.

He moved further onto the bed in a slow, stiff blur, eyes glued to you like he couldn't believe this was real. His chest was rising fast, pupils blown to hell, lips parted like he might start begging. He looked like he was in pain.

You stood there, half-naked and trembling, your oversized sleep shirt hitched up high, bare legs shaking.

"Lie down, baby," Ruby said, turning her attention back to you. Her hands cupped your cheeks, her eyes glowing with soft, wicked promise. "Let us take care of you."

You obeyed.

She helped you down onto the bed, gently easing you onto your back, kissing your cheek, your jaw, your lips. You clung to her without meaning to, your fingers curling in her shirt, your legs twitching nervously.

"You're doing so good," she whispered. "You're being so brave. You'll love it, I promise. It's gonna feel so good..."

Her lips trailed lower—down your throat, between your collarbones, soft and slow. Her hands pushed your shirt up higher and higher, until your stomach was bare, your chest rising and falling like you'd run a mile.

She kissed every inch of exposed skin.

"Such soft skin... so untouched..."

Her hands slid down your thighs again—comforting, coaxing. Sam let out another choked sound, and when you looked over at him, his eyes were fixed between your legs, his hand gripping the bed like he might break it.

Ruby kissed the inside of your knee. Then your thigh. Then lower.

"Let me show you what it's supposed to feel like, sweet thing," she murmured, her breath ghosting over your heat. "You'll never want anything else after this."

You gasped when her mouth finally touched you—slow, teasing, masterful. You jolted, your hips bucking up in shock, but her hands held you down, firm but still gentle, like she'd done this before. Like she knew exactly how to unravel a girl like you.

You reached for something—anything—and Sam was there in an instant.

He crawled up beside you, his hand finding yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as you moaned helplessly beneath Ruby's mouth.

"You're okay," he whispered. "You're doing so good. God, you are so good..."

You turned your face into his neck, panting, whining, your thighs trembling as Ruby sucked softly on your clit, her tongue drawing slow, filthy circles that made your whole body clench.

"Let go, baby," she whispered between licks. "Be our good girl and come for us."

Your first orgasm broke over you like something sacred.

One second you were gasping into Sam's neck, Ruby's mouth still moving between your thighs, and the next—your back arched, a sob tore from your throat, and your whole body shuddered like you'd been struck by lightning.

It wasn't sharp—it was overwhelming. Full-body. Wringing you out like wet cloth. Sam held your hand tighter, whispering praise that barely landed, and Ruby moaned against your cunt like she felt it, like your release was something for her.

"God, baby," she breathed, and then—she slipped a finger inside you, slow and deliberate.

You jolted, a strangled cry slipping out as aftershocks tore through you. Sam's grip on your hand went white-knuckled.

Ruby moaned.

"She's so warm, Sam," she said, voice thick, dreamy. "So wet. You have no idea."

You whined, writhing, but Ruby only kissed your thigh like a reward and pulled her finger out—slick, shining.

"You're such a good girl for us," she whispered. "That was so beautiful."

She crawled back up your body, her skin hot against yours, and kissed your lips again. Deep, slow, tasting like you.

"Sam," she purred between kisses, her voice dipped in smoke. "You have to try this."

Sam didn't speak.

He just grabbed her—hard. One hand in her hair, the other on her hip, yanking her off you with a roughness that made your breath catch. He crushed his mouth to hers in a brutal kiss—desperate, consuming—and then shoved her aside like she was nothing more than a gatekeeper to his altar.

His altar being you.

He dropped between your legs without a word, spreading you open with shaking hands, and dove in like a man starved.

You screamed.

It was too much. Still trembling from your first orgasm, your body overloaded, you cried out as his tongue dragged through your folds, moaning against you like he was fucking possessed. And maybe he was. His grip on your thighs was bruising, his mouth unrelenting.

"Oh my god—S-Sam—!"

You tried to close your legs on instinct, but he just growled—growled—and shoved them wider, burying his face deeper.

"That's it," Ruby whispered, curling up beside you again. Her fingers found your hair, stroking it gently, brushing it behind your ears with all the tenderness of a mother tucking in her child. "Let him ruin you, baby. You're being so perfect."

You whimpered, face twisting into something close to pain.

"It's too much..."

"Shhh." Her hand cupped your cheek. "That's what makes it good."

Sam groaned between your thighs, low and wrecked. His tongue moved faster, deeper, insistent, like he couldn't get enough. Like he wanted to crawl inside you and stay.

"You feel that, sweet thing?" Ruby murmured, her mouth close to yours. "That's what happens when you give yourself over."

She kissed you again—languid, possessive, one hand still petting you like you were something to soothe and subdue.

"Open your mouth for me," she whispered. "You're drooling. It's cute."

You blinked, dazed, lips parting as her thumb pressed to your jaw.

"Let me feel it."

You obeyed.

She kissed you again, deeper this time, tongue slick against yours, swallowing your moans and the helpless sounds you made as Sam devoured you like he'd die if he stopped.

"That's it," she said softly. "Drool in my mouth, baby. You're doing so good."

She turned her head slightly, speaking to Sam like you weren't even there.

"She's so sensitive. Barely came once and look at her—already shaking for you."

Sam just groaned in response, too lost to speak. His hands gripped your thighs tighter, his tongue relentless, and you broke again with a sharp cry into Ruby's mouth.

You couldn't stop crying. Your legs wouldn't stop trembling, your voice had gone hoarse from moaning, and Sam was still between your thighs, tongue moving like he didn't hear you—like he didn't care.

"S-Sam—p-please—" Your fingers twisted in the sheets, your hips jerking, but his arms locked you down. "I—I c-can't—!"

Ruby was still beside you, still stroking your hair like nothing was wrong.

"Sam," she said softly. "Baby, she's crying."

He didn't stop.

He growled against you—low and guttural—and sucked harder, dragging his tongue with filthy, practiced strokes that had your spine arching, tears streaking your cheeks.

"Do you need him to stop, sweet thing?" Ruby whispered, brushing her thumb over your wet lashes.

You sobbed. Nodded.

"Y-yes—please—I c-can't take anymore—"

"Aww," she cooed, her voice like poisoned honey. "My poor baby. You're so sensitive. So perfect for him."

You gasped when Sam gripped your thighs tighter—his fingertips digging in, holding you wide open as his mouth moved faster, chasing another orgasm like he was possessed.

Ruby leaned in closer, her voice dipped in false sympathy.

"If he stops now..." she said sweetly, "...he's going to be so unsatisfied. That wouldn't be fair to him, would it?"

You blinked, dazed and wrecked, chest heaving.

"W-what...?"

"He's been waiting for you for so long, baby," she continued, stroking your cheek. "He's so hard it hurts. If you really want him to stop, you're gonna have to give him something."

You whimpered, nodding blindly.

"Anything, please—j-just make him stop—"

Ruby smiled like the devil in silk.

"Then you'll let him fuck you, sweet thing?" She kissed your temple. "You'll let him put his cock in that sweet little pussy and use you the way he needs to?"

Your lips trembled. You were crying so hard now it didn't feel real. But you nodded again. You couldn't think past the overstimulation—just needed him out from between your legs, needed something to change.

"Yes—yes, please—please—just make him stop—"

Ruby sat up, her voice turning firm.

"Sam. Stop."

He didn't move.

"Sam."

He growled—growled, full-bodied, vibrating the bed. His eyes were black, mouth wet, breath ragged.

"Don't—don't fucking tell me to stop—"

Ruby laughed.

"You'll thank me in thirty seconds, big boy."

She shoved him back by the shoulder, and this time—barely—he let her. He knelt between your legs, panting, pupils swallowing the green of his eyes.

Ruby leaned over you again, her hands spreading your legs wider.

"You're gonna take him now," she whispered. "You're gonna let him fuck you like he's been dreaming about for weeks. And you're gonna thank him for it."

You sobbed. Nodded.

Sam's hands fumbled with his jeans, dragging them down far enough to free his cock—thick, flushed, angry red with need. He didn't say a word. He just looked at you, hair in his face, jaw clenched, chest heaving.

"She said yes, Sammy," Ruby whispered. "She wants it. She wants you."

Sam moved fast.

He grabbed your hips, yanked you down the bed, and pressed the blunt head of his cock to your slick entrance. You gasped, eyes wide, every nerve ending screaming.

"You ready, sweet thing?" Ruby murmured, mouth at your ear. "You ready to be his?"

You whispered it, broken.

"Yes..."

Then Sam sank into you in one brutal thrust, and the sound you made wasn't human.

Your back arched, your breath vanished, and your body clenched around him like it didn't know how to take it. He was thick, hot, impossibly deep—and still moving, dragging out slowly, then slamming back in so hard the headboard rattled against the wall.

"Fuck—fuck— you feel unreal," he groaned, eyes squeezed shut, his voice wrecked. "So fucking tight—shit, baby, you were made for me—"

You cried out, hands grasping at the sheets, your body already fried and raw from overstimulation. Every thrust felt like lightning—too much, too deep, too good.

"You okay, baby?" Ruby murmured beside you, her voice sweet and syrupy. "You still with us?"

You nodded through the sob that escaped you, and she smiled like you'd just done something precious.

"That's my girl."

Sam fucked into you harder—hard enough to make the bed creak, his grip bruising on your hips. He looked elated, lost in it, mouth open as he moaned through gritted teeth.

"So fucking pretty when you cry," he panted. "Look at you—look what you're giving me—fuck—"

Ruby slid closer, still fully clothed, lips ghosting your temple.

"She's drooling again," she said with a laugh, her tone sing-song and amused. "You love this too much, sweet thing. Can't even keep your mouth closed."

You whimpered, your thighs shaking, and she kissed your cheek sweetly.

"That's okay," she whispered. "We love how messy you are."

Her hand slipped beneath her waistband, fingers curling—and then she took your trembling wrist and guided it down with her.

"Here," she murmured. "You wanna be good for me? Touch me."

Your fingers slipped beneath the lace, and you gasped when you felt how wet she was—soaked, hot, throbbing against your hand. She moaned low in your ear.

"That's it," she breathed. "Let me show you..."

Her hand wrapped around yours, using you, grinding down onto your fingers as Sam fucked you open in deep, brutal strokes that made your stomach tighten and your vision blur.

"Move in little circles," Ruby whispered, guiding your fingers. "Mmm—just like that, baby. You're such a fast learner."

Sam was losing it.

"She's touching you?" He groaned, looking down at you both, sweat dripping from his hairline. "Fuck, Ruby, fuck— she's so perfect—"

"She's everything," Ruby said with a soft moan, pressing your fingers harder. "She's ours now. Look at her. Look at what she's letting us do."

You choked on a sob, your hand trapped between Ruby's thighs, your body jerking with every thrust of Sam's cock. He was panting now, animalistic, his hands sliding up under your shirt to grope at your breasts, dragging his thumbs over your nipples.

"You hear that, baby?" Ruby crooned. "Hear how wet you are? How wet I am? It's all for you."

"You feel so good—so fucking good—" Sam growled, his thrusts speeding up, sloppy and deep. "I'm never gonna stop—never—never letting you go—"

Ruby grabbed your jaw, turned your face toward her, and kissed you like she owned you—tongue pushing into your mouth, swallowing your sobs and your moans, your drool and desperation.

"Open for me, sweet thing," she whispered against your lips. "Let me taste how wrecked you are."

You obeyed. You always obeyed. And as she kissed you, she didn't hold back, drool leaking into your mouth, sliding down your throat like a living thing. Warm. Sweet.

And Sam? Sam was losing it.

Sweat dripped from his chest, his arms were trembling from how hard he held himself above you, and his thrusts—fuck—they were frantic now, so deep and fast it felt like your body couldn't keep up. You couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. He was babbling between moans, his voice cracked open, wrecked.

"Can't believe this is real—fuck, you feel like heaven—so tight, so fucking warm—squeezing me, baby, you're fucking—you were made for this—"

Your legs were jelly around his hips. Your voice was gone, reduced to broken gasps and whines as his cock hit that deep spot again and again, the bed groaning under every thrust. Your hand was still between Ruby's thighs, her slick soaking your fingers, and she was rolling her hips against them slowly, deliberately.

"That's it, sweet thing," Ruby purred, her voice so gentle it made your eyes sting. "Let me use that precious little hand. You're such a good girl for us, letting us fuck you just right."

She leaned over you again, brushing your sweaty hair behind your ears, thumbing your jaw open.

"You want something in that mouth, baby?" She whispered sweetly. "You want me to spit in it again?"

You nodded—desperate, dazed, ruined.

She smiled.

"Open up."

She let it hang between her lips for just a second before letting it fall—hot, thick, landing on your tongue like sin. You moaned, tongue twitching, and she cooed.

"Swallow it like a good girl."

You did.

Sam groaned like he might fucking die.

"She's letting you spit in her mouth?" He gasped. "Jesus— fuck, I'm not gonna last—she's so—"

"She wants it, baby," Ruby crooned. "Don't you, sweet thing? You love how good you make him feel?"

You nodded, sobbing.

"Mhmm—yes—yes please—feels so good—!"

Ruby's hand slid between your legs again—while Sam was still fucking you—and her thumb found your clit with perfect, devastating pressure. You screamed, body jerking violently as she circled it with soft, expert cruelty.

"That's it," she whispered. "Let me help you break."

Sam was gone. Gone.

"Gonna fill you up, baby," he grunted, thrusts getting rougher, more erratic. "You're gonna take it, right? Let me come inside that pretty little cunt?"

"She wants it," Ruby said, matter-of-fact. "She's mine now. She'll take anything I give her. Won't you, baby?"

You cried out, stars bursting behind your eyes, your fingers slipping deeper into Ruby as her hand guided you.

"Fuck me with them," she murmured, voice like velvet-dipped knives. "Make me come while Sammy fucks you full."

You whimpered, your fingers pumping helplessly into her dripping heat as her thumb rubbed cruel circles into your clit, Sam's cock still slamming deep inside, faster, harder—

"You're mine—ours—fuck, I'm gonna—baby—take it—"

You shattered.

Your body convulsed, the scream caught in your throat, legs kicking uselessly as the orgasm ripped through you like nothing had ever existed before it. Sam groaned so loud it echoed off the walls—and then spilled inside you, hips jerking, cock twitching as he filled you up, panting, gasping, babbling your name and Ruby's in a filthy prayer.

Ruby came on your fingers a moment later, moaning low, hand never stopping on your clit as you sobbed through the comedown—wrecked, full, ruined.

"There you go," she whispered. "That's it, baby. That's my perfect little thing."

She kissed you once, slow and sweet.

"You're never leaving this bed again."

You didn't remember when you stopped crying. Somewhere between Sam's moans and Ruby's mouth, your tears had dried—leaving only heat, and ache, and the tremble in your thighs as you lay between them.

You were sore. Sticky. Wrecked in a way that felt permanent.

But you didn't want to move.

You could still feel Sam's spend leaking out of you, warm and slow. Ruby's breath was soft against your cheek, her fingers still tangled with yours like they had every right to be. Sam's hand rested over your belly—heavy, protective, possessive.

You felt claimed. Worshipped. Ruined.

You stared up at the ceiling, breath ragged, thoughts flickering like static, and it settled in your chest like truth:

You weren't yours anymore.

You didn't know when it had happened—when your body stopped being yours, when your heart shifted, when your innocence dissolved between their hands.

You just knew that it had.

And maybe that should have scared you. Maybe, once, it would have.

But lying there, between them—used, owned, kept—all you felt was peace. Because here, in this bed, you belonged to them. And you weren't sure you ever wanted to leave.

@mostlymarvelgirl @losers-clvb @tinas111 @lunaleah @itshellfire @drakulana @nevercameraready @blossomingorchids @sacr1ficialang3l <3

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layce2015 · 2 years ago

Text

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Bad Day At Black Rock

Masterlist

"Because Demon, that's why. I mean the second you find out this Ruby chick is a Demon you go for the holy water! You don't chat!" Dean yelled at Sam as we ride down the quiet dark road. "No one was chatting, Dean." Sam said, defensively.

"Oh yeah? Then why didn't you send her ass back to Hell?" I asked Sam. "Because - Because she said she might be able to help us out!" Sam exclaims. "How?" Dean asked and Sam pauses. "No really, Sam, how? How could she possibly help us?" Dean asked him again. "She told me she could help you, OK? Help you out of the crossroads deal." Sam replied and Dean looks at Sam, incredulously, while my jaw drops.

"Wait, really?" I asked and Sam nods. "What is wrong with you, huh? She's lying, you gotta know that, don't you? She knows what your weakness is – it's me." Dean yells at him then sighs. "What else did she say?" He asked but Sam stays silent.

"Dude?" Dean said. "Nothing. Nothing, OK?! Look I'm not an idiot guys, I'm not talking about trusting her, I'm talking about using her. I mean we're at war, right? And we don't know jack about the enemy; we don't know where they are, we don't know what they're doing. I mean, hell, we don't know what they want. Now this Ruby girl knows more than we will ever find out on our own. Now yes, it's a risk, I know that, but we need to take it." Sam said to us.

"You're okay right, I mean you're feeling okay?" I asked Sam. "Yes I'm fine, Why are you guys always asking me that?" Sam asked me, annoyed, when a phone starts ringing. Sam sighs and reaches for his own. "It's not mine." Sam said and I start to reach for my phone to see that my phone wasn't ringing.

"Not me." I said while Dean goes for his. "Nope." He said then he pauses. "Check the glove compartment, it's Dad's." Dean said.

"Dad's?" Sam asked.

"Yes, I keep it charged up in case any of his old contacts call." Dean said and Sam opens the glove compartment, and finds John's phone and answers it.

"Hello? Yes...this is Edgar Casey...No! No, no, no, don't – don't call the police, I'll handle this myself. Thanks. You know, can you just uh, can you just lock it back up for me? Great. Uhm, I- I uh, I don't have my - my book in front of me..." Sam said then he gestures to me for a pen and I hand him one. "...do you- do you have the address so I can...Sure, OK. Go ahead. Right, thanks a lot." Sam said and he ends the call.

"Dad ever tell you he kept a container at a storage place?" Sam asked Dean. "What?" Dean said, confused. "Outside of Buffalo?" Sam asked. "No way." Dean said. "Yeah. And someone just broke into it." Sam said.

"Man..." Dean said as we walk into this abandoned building. "What?" Sam asked as we go towards the elevator and enter inside of it. "Just Dad. You know him and his secrets. Spend all this time with the guy and it's like we barely even know the man." Dean replied as the elevator goes down. "Well, we're about to learn something." I said just as the elevator stops.

We exit the elevator and find the storage container. Dean unlocks the padlock and opens the sliding door, the three of us with flashlights at the ready. On the dusty floor of the container is a symbol drawn in red, along with several bloody footprints.

"No demons allowed." Sam mutters. "Blood. Check this out." Dean said and he holds up a tripwire which is attached to a shotgun hidden in a large animal skull. "Whoever broke in here got tagged." I said. "Dear old Dad. I got two sets of boot treads here, looks like it was a two-man job. And our friend with the buckshot in him looks like he kept walking." Dean said.

"So what's the deal? Dad would do work here or something?" Sam asked. "Living the high life, as usual." Dean said as we venture further inside. "Do you think your dad knew about this?" Sam asked me. "It's a possibility, he just never told me." I said as Dean aims his flashlight on a skull and shakes his head, laughing. Sam looks over a desk while I pick up a trophy from a shelf, scraping the dust off.

"1995." I said and Sam turns to look at it. "No way! That's my Division Championship soccer trophy. I can't believe he kept this." Sam said as he looks at the trophy. "Yeah...It was probably about the closest you ever came to being a boy." Dean said and I smiled when Dean found something.

"Oh, wow! It's my first sawed-off. I made it myself. Sixth grade." Dean said, happily, and he laughs and pumps the shotgun. Sam moves further into the container and opens a door to a back room, the chain on the door has been cut.

The boys and I enter and pass pur flashlights over the scene. "Holy crap. Look at this, he had land mines...Which they didn't take. Or the guns." Dean said. "I guess they knew what they were after, huh?" I said when Sam speaks up.

"Hey guys, check this out. See these symbols? That's binding magic. These are curse boxes." Sam said as he shows us some boxes with some symbols on it. "Curse boxes? Th – they're supposed to keep the evil mojo in, right, kinda like the Pandora deal?" Dean asked. "Yeah. Yeah, they're built to contain the power of the cursed object." I said.

"Well Dad's journal did mention a whole bunch of stuff, you know? Dangerous hexed items, fetishes...He never did say where they ended up." Dean said. "Yeah. Well this must be his toxic waste dump." Sam said then he notices a rectangular shape in the dust and runs his finger along the dust. "One box is missing...Great." Sam grumbles.

"Well maybe they didn't open it." Dean said, shrugging.

We pull up in the alley beside an apartment block, next to another car. Dean leans out and checks the car's plates, which was next to us. "Connecticut. Last three digits 880." He said. "Yep, that's it." Sam said and I click my tongue. "Should've blacked out their plates before they parked in front of the security camera..." I said, shaking my head, and we head out.

We break into the apartment, armed, and sneak inside. Eventually, we come to a door, that was opened, and we see a couple of men inside playing cards. Then the three of us burst into the room, our guns drawn.

"FREEZE, FREEZE! NOBODY MOVE!" Dean yells.

"Don't move!" Sam shouted.

"DON'T MOVE!" I screamed.

"What is this?" One guy said as he and his friend stand up. "STOP!" Sam yells at him as we aim our guns at him. "All right, give us the box. And please tell me that you didn't–" Dean said and I look over and see that the box was opened.

"Oh they did." I said and Dean looks at it then over to the men. "You opened it?!" Dean asked then he shoves one of the men against the wall.

"Are you guys cops?" The guy asked, in a panic. "Huh?" Dean asked. "ARE YOU GUYS COPS?!" The guy asked again. "What was in the box?" Dean asked him and the guy glances over at the coffee table where a rabbit's foot sits. "Oh, was that is, huh? It was wasn't it?" Dean asked then he looks over at me and Sam. "What is that thing?" He asked then the guy uses Dean's distraction to knock the gun from his hand.

It falls to the floor, causing it to fire. The bullet ricochets off a radiator and hits mine and Sam's guns, causing us to drop it. The same bullet then ricochets again and breaks a lamp. Sam and the other guy go for Sam's gun while I go for my gun.

The guy pushes Sam into Dean, who falls back on the coffee table, launching the rabbit's foot into the air. "Sorry!" Sam said and I go to grab my gun but the second guy throws himself at me, sending us to the floor, and then starts punching me in the face.

I try to stop him when Sam grabs the guy off of me and they started fighting. I get up just as the first guy grabs Dean's gun and picks it up and aims it at Sam. Dean tries to go after him but the guy hits him and I go after the guy but he knocks me down as well.

"Guys! I got it!" Sam yells then the first guys moves forward and cocks Dean's gun in Sam's face. "No you don't." The guy said and the second man gets his hands on Sam's gun while the first pulls the trigger on Sam, the gun jams.

The guy panics and tries to clear the chamber, while Dean and I get up and try to stop him. The first guy is surprised and stumbles back, tripping over a rug and falling back over the couch, knocking himself out. Sam, Dean and I look at each other, confused, as the second guy gets up and tries to point the gun at Sam.

"SAM!" Dean and I shouted as the second guy moves, but then the books on the bookshelves behind him suddenly fall off and onto his head, knocking him out cold. Sam's gun flies out of his hand and Sam catches it while Dean and I look at this, astounded.

"That was a lucky break!" I said as I pick up my gun. "Is that a rabbit's foot?!" Dean asked and Sam holds up the small rabbit's foot. "I think it is." He said. "Huh." Dean and I said.

Dean walks over to the Impala with a paper bag in his hands. He gets in while Sam and I were inside the car. Dean takes something out of the bag. "I'm not finding anything on it in Dad's journal." Sam said as Dean holds up several scratch cards in front of Sam.

"Dean, come on." Sam said, exasperated. "What?! Hey, that was my gun he was aiming at your head, and my gun don't jam. So that was a lucky break. Not to mention them taking themselves out, also a lucky break. Here, scratch one. C'mon Sam, scratch and win!" Dean said as he hands over a coin and a card. Sam scratches it.

"Dean, it's gotta be cursed somehow. Otherwise Dad wouldn't have locked it up." Sam said and he hands the card back. "$1200...You just won $1200!" Dean exclaims and he laughs and hollers. "I don't know, man, it doesn't seem that cursed to me!" Dean said as he hands Sam another card expectantly while I roll my eyes.

Later, Dean lays out 6 scratch cards on the hood of the Impala, calculating their winnings. "Oh, man!" Dean said while Sam was on the phone. "Now look Bobby, we didn't know." Sam said as I look over the card and shake my head.

"Well Dad never told us about this thing. I mean you knew about his storage place at Black Rock?" Sam asked and I look up at him and see Sam kneeling down and picking something up. He turns and shows us that he picked up a gold watch. Dean mouths "awesome!" while I give him a thumbs up.

"It's a hell of a luck charm." Sam said and he listens into his phone to what Bobby was telling him. "Well, so I won't lose it, Bobby. Well, then, how do we break the curse?" He asked as he places the rabbit's foot in his jacket pocket.

Then Sam hangs up then turns to us as Dean chuckles. "Dude! We're up fifteen grand!" Dean exclaims and Sam gives a half-smile, looking worried.

"Don't worry, Bobby'll find a way to break it. Until then I say we hit Vegas, pull a little Rain Man. You can be Rain Man." Dean said as we enter the restaurant. "Look, we just lay low until Bobby calls back, OK?" Sam said and I turn to the lady behind the desk.

"Hi, uh, table for three please." I said. "CONGRATULATIONS!" The guy standing behind the lady shouts as an alarm goes off, making me and Sam jump. "It's exciting, I know." Dean mutters.

"You are the one millionth guest of the Biggerson's Restaurant family!" The guy said and the staff start singing and taking photographs, balloons and streamers fall from the ceiling. Sam looks embarrassed while Dean looks ecstatic and I just roll my eyes.

Later, Sam is on his laptop while Dean is eating a bowl of ice cream, I sit next to Dean and drink my soda. "Bobby's right. This lore goes way back. Pure Hoodoo. You can't just cut one off any rabbit. Has to be in a cemetery, under a full moon, on a Friday the thirteenth." Sam said. "I think from now on, we only go to places with Biggerson's." Dean said then he is struck with brain freeze from the ice cream.

Sam and I laugh as a Waitress approaches our table with more coffee.

"Can I freshen you up?" She asked Sam. "Yeah, yeah sure. Thanks." Sam said and the waitress pours Sam more coffee but, smiling at him, until she spills some. "Oh!" She exclaims as the coffee spills all over the table. "Oh! Oh I uh-" Sam stutters.

"Let me mop up here." She said as she grabs some napkins and cleans up the table and Sam as some coffee got in him. "No, no don't worry it's okay, It's okay- I got it, uh..." Sam said. "It's no trouble, really." The woman said. "Sorry about that." She said. "It's all right." Sam said as it seemed tha the waitress was flirting with Sam, who gives me and Dean a look.

The woman finishes cleaning up and walks away, looking over her shoulder as she goes and smiles. Sam and Dean both lean in and watch her retreating and I elbow Dean, who looks over at me and I raise an eyebrow at him. "What? You know you're the only girl for me." He said, trying to cover up. "Mmm hmm." I hummed as I keeping giving a look that said you're in trouble.

He kissed my cheek and I roll my eyes but let a smirk play on my lips as he turns to Sam. "Dude. If you were ever gonna get lucky..." Dean said as he gestures after the waitress. "Shut up." Sam said, smirking, and he goes to pick up his coffee, but he knocks the cup over and manages to spill it all over the table and himself.

Sam jumps out of his seat. "Oh! Oh Geez, uh..." he exclaims and he turns and a waiter with a full tray crashes straight into him, sending things flying and causing a scene. Dean and I look at this in shock. "Sorry!" Sam said then he turns back to us.

"How was that good?" I asked and Sam searches his jacket pocket and comes up empty. The rabbit's foot is gone. "Son of a bitch." Dean growls and we run out of the restaurant.

"Come on!" I shout as we run out of the restaurant but then Sam falls flat on his face. Dean and I slow down and turn around. "Wow! You suck!" Dean said and we reach down and pick Sam up off the ground. "Ow..." Sam groans. "So what, now your luck turns bad?" I asked as I look down to see that Sam's jeans are torn at both knees, which are bloody and raw.

"I guess." Sam said. "I wonder how bad?" Dean asked and Sam gives us a look.

Later, we make our way back to the apartment and see that the door to the apartment is open. Dean and I walk in but Sam hangs back. "Oh, man. What do you want?" The thief groans at us as we come into his room.

"Heard about your friend. That's bad luck." Dean said. "Piss off." The guy growls at us. "We know someone hired you to steal the rabbit's foot. A woman." I said and he looks up at us. "Oh yeah? How do you know that?" The guy asked. "Because she just stole it back from us." Dean said and the guy laughs.

"Listen man, this is seri-" Sam said but as he steps forward and trips on a wire on the floor mid-sentence, pulling a CD player off a shelf and sending it and Sam crashing to the ground, and he takes out a lamp as he goes.

Dean and I just roll our eyes at this. "Sam, you OK?" Dean asked, calmly, not look at Sam. "Yeah, I'm good!" Sam said and he pulls himself up and the guy smirks. "I want you to tell us her name." Dean said to the guy. "Screw you." He spat at Dean

"It wasn't a freak accident that killed your partner." I said to him. "What?" The guy asked, shocked. "It was the rabbit's foot." I replied and he scoffs incredulously. "You're crazy, man." He said.

"You know she's not. You saw what happened, what it did. All the flukes, all the luck. When you lose the foot that luck goes sour. That's what killed your friend. And my brother here is next. And who knows how many more innocent people after that. Now if you don't help us stop this thing, that puts those deaths on your head." Dean said and the guy looks up at us, worried.

"Now I can read people...and I get it. You're a thief, and a scumbag, that's fine. But you're not a killer. Are you?" Dean asked him. "No." The guy whispers.

We exit the apartment block when Dean's phone starts ringing. "Hello?" Dean said when I hear a squishing noise. I look over and see Sam had lifted his shoe to see he stepped on bubblegum. "Bobby, that's uh, great, 'cept Sam, uh..." Dean said then he looks over at Sam and grimaces when Sam lifts his shoe.

"...Sam lost the foot. Bobby, Bobby, listen. This, uh, this hot chick stole it from him. I'm serious. In her mid 20's, and she was sharp you know, good enough at the con to play us." Dean said as Sam was trying to scrape the bubblegum off his shoe using a broken storm drain grating.

"And she only gave the guy she hired a name, probably an alias or something." Dean said then he turns to us. "Uh, Luigi or something?" He asked as Sam was still scraping his shoe off. "Lugosi." I corrected him then Dean turns to his phone.

"Lugosi." Dean said and I hear a splash behind me. I turn and see Sam was kneeling down to the storm drainage.

"Bela Lugosi? That's cute." Dean chuckles. "Well she knew about the rabbit's foot. Is she a Hunter?" He asked and there was a few moments of silence as he listens to Bobby. "Ah, I guess she's back. Great. Thanks, Bobby. Again." Dean said and he hangs up then he and I turn to look back at Sam, who looks thoroughly dejected, almost like a child who was told he couldn't have ice cream.

"What?" Dean asked him.

"I lost my shoe." Sam said, plaintively, and we look down at Sam's sock-clad foot and Dean sighs, annoyed, then rolls his eyes and turns away. Sam hangs his head and I give a sad smile towards him.

"All right, Bobby, thanks. Hey, we owe ya. Another one." Dean said into his phone as we pull up to a hotel. "All right, Bobby's got it on pretty good authority that this Bela chick...lives in Queens. So it'll take me about two hours to get there." Dean said to us.

"So what are we doing here?" Sam asked Dean. You, my brother, are staying here 'cause I don't want your bad luck getting us killed." Dean said as we pull up to a parking lot.

Dean unlocks the door and leads Sam and I inside, turning on a light. "What am I even supposed to do, Dean?" Sam asked. "Nothing! Nothing. Come here. I don't want you doing anything. I want you to sit right here..." Dean said as he pulls a chair into the middle of the room. "...and don't move, OK? Don't turn on the light, don't turn off the light. Don't even scratch your nose." Dean said and I look over at him.

"Do you want me to come with you?" I asked Dean. "No, I think it'd be better if you stay here and watch over him." Dean said and I nod at him. "Okay, well...please be careful." I said and I go to kiss him. He kisses me back then he goes to leave and closes the door behind him.

I look over at Sam and see him sitting the chair, looking down. I give a small frown before I sit down on one of the beds and turn the TV on to at least have some entertainment.

Later, I went into the bathroom for a bit but then I heard Sam exclaimed, despairingly. "Oh come on, I- I didn't- I wasn't..."

"Sam, what's wrong?" I asked and I walk out of the bathroom to see him messing with the air conditioner unit. "Sam, what are...?" I started to ask when I noticed that his jacket sleeve was on fire. "SAM!" I screamed and he sees his sleeve and panics. I run towards him to help but then as I got close to him his elbow hits me in the face and I fell to the floor, pass out.

I groan and open my eyes when I realized that I was duct taped to a chair. "Oh, they're awake!" An unknown male voice said and I look up to see two men standing before me. "Back with us, eh?" One of the guys said, smiling. I turn my head to the left and see Sam was tied up as well and waking up.

"We didn't even have to touch either of you. You just went all..." the first guy said to Sam as he wiggles. "...spastic, and knocked your friend and yourself out? It was like watching Jerry Lewis try to stack chairs!" The guy said.

"Who are you, What do you wa-" Sam started to ask but the second guy snaps his fingers in Sam's face. Sam and I look at him, confused. "I used to think your friend Gordon sent me." The second guy said and Sam and I look up at him, shocked. "Gordon?" We said, shocked, then I sighed. "Oh come on!"

"Yeah, because he asked me to track both of you down, and put a bullet in both of your brains." The second guy said. "Great." Sam mutters and I scoff. "That sounds like him." I said. "But, as it turns out...I'm on a mission from God." The guy said then he strikes Sam across the face. "Hey! Leave him..." I started to say but the other guy hits me across the face too.

After the two men beat both Sam and I up for a bit, one of them throws a couple of glasses of water in our faces. We shake the water off of us while the second guy watches, sitting on one of the motel beds.

"You two were a part of that demon plan to open the gate weren't you?" He asked us. "We did everything we could to stop it." I replied. "Lie lie lie! Both of you were in on it. You two know what their next move is too, don't you?" The guy said, obviously getting annoyed at us. "No, we don't, okay? You're wrong about all of this." Sam said to him.

"Where are they gonna hit us next?" The guy asked us. Sam and I sigh and we stay silent and the other guy strikes us again. "WHERE?!" The first guy yells and we don't answer him. "Gordon told me about you two. About your powers. Both of you are some kinda weirdo psychic freaks?" The guy asked. "No, not any more. We – no powers, no visions, nothing, it just—" Sam said as I nod in agreement

"LIAR!" The guy yell and his friend punches us again. "Now no more lies. There's an army of demons out there pushing at a world already on the brink. We're on deck for the endgame here, right? So maybe, just maybe you can understand..." the guy said as he draws his gun. "...why we can't take chances." He said and he points his gun at Sam.

"Whoa, okay, okay, no, do— hold on a minute! —" I stammered, quickly, just as the guy's friend starts to intervene. "Hey, Kubrick just—" he said but then Kubrick turns to him, sharply. "No, you saw what happened, Creedy. Ask yourself, why are we here? Because you saw a picture on the web? Because we chose this motel instead of another? Luck like that doesn't just happen." He yells.

"Look, we can explain all of that if-" Sam said. "Shut up!" Kubrik yells as he points to Sam without turning around. Sam lets out a long-suffering sigh and I sit there, praying that Dean needs to hurry his ass up. "It's God, Creedy. He led us here for one reason. To do His work. This...is destiny." Kubrik said to Creedy.

"Whoa..." a familiar voice said and Kubrick aims the gun point blank at my forehead while I squeeze my eyes shut. The sound of another gun being cocked was heard in the room and I open my eyes, slowly, to see that Dean had returned, aiming his gun at the men.

"Nope. No destiny. Just a rabbit's foot." Dean said to the men. "Put the gun down, son, or you're gonna be scraping brain off the wall." Kubrick said. "Oh, this thing?" Dean asked, playing dumb, as he holds up his gun. "Yeah, that thing." Kubrick said. "Okay. But you see, there's something about me that you don't know." Dean said as he puts his gun down, looking smug, then he picks up a pen sitting next to it.

"Yeah? What would that be?" Kubrick asked him. "It's my lucky day." Dean said and he tosses the pen toward Kubrick and it lodges itself in the barrel of Kubrick's gun, Sam and I look at this, impressed. "Oh my God, did you see that shot!?" Dean asked, laughing.

Creedy lunges at Dean and aims a punch but Dean easily side-steps and Creedt runs straight into the wall, falling backwards and hitting the floor. Kubrick stares at the pen in the barrel for a few moments before trying to dislodge it.

"I'm amazing." Dean exclaims as he picks up the TV remote from the table and throws it hard at Kubri k, who is just about to aim for Dean. It hits Kubrick right between the eyes, knocking him out cold. He drops like a stone.

"I'm Batman." Dean said, suavely, and I snort at this. "Yeah. You're Batman." Sam said, sarcastically.

Later, Sam ws crouching down and sprinkling some stuff onto the embers of a small fire. Dean was checking over more scratch cards as I look over some of the scratch cards I bought which most of them were crap or okay cards. "All right. Bone ash, cayenne pepper, that should do it." Sam said.

"One second..." Dean said.

"Dean, you—" Sam started to say but Dean holds his hand out to him. "Hey, back off, Jinx. I'm bringing home the bacon." He said and Sam sighs. Dean smirks and stashes the cards in his jacket, which is slung over a gravestone.

"All right, say goodbye wascawy wabbit." Dean said as he holds up the rabbit's foot. Then we hear a gun being cocked and we look around to see a woman with long reddish-brown hair, aiming a gun at us. This had to be Bela.

"I think you'll find that belongs to me. Or, you know, whatever." She said to Dean. "Put the foot down, honey." She orders. "No. You're not going to shoot anybody. See I happen to be able to read people. OK, you're a thief, fine, but you're not—" Dean started to say but Bela ignores him and aims and fires her gun at Sam.

"Sam!" I screamed as Sam goes down, groaning. "Son of a—" Dean shouts as I check Sam over, only to see he was hit in the shoulder. "Back off, tiger. Back off. You make one more move and I'll pull the trigger." Bela threatened as I help Sam up while he clutches his shoulder.

"You've got the luck, Dean. You, I can't hit. But your brother and your little girlfriend? Them I can't miss." She said as Dean looks over at us then back at her. "What the hell is wrong with you?! You don't just go around shooting people like that!" He shouts at her. "Relax. It's a shoulder hit, I can aim. Besides, who here hasn't shot a few people?" She asked us. "Put the rabbit's foot on the ground now."

"All right! All right. Take it easy." Dean said and he goes to drop the rabbit's foot, but instead throws it at Bela. "Think fast." He said and she catches the foot and curses. "Damn!" She growls. "Now, what do you say we destroy that ugly-ass piece of dead thing?" Dean asked and Bela sighs in annoyance.

Minutes later, Bela drops the rabbit's foot in the embers. "Thanks very much. I'm out one and a half million, and on the bad side of a very powerful, fairly psychotic buyer." She said. "Wow. I really don't feel bad about that. Sam? (Y/n)?" Dean said. "Nope." Sam said and I shake my head. "Not even a little." I remarked and Bela glares around at us.

"Hmm. Maybe next time I'll hang you out to dry." She said as she goes to lean on the gravestone where Dean's jacket is.

"Oh don't go away angry, just go away." I said to her and she smirks. "Have a nice night, boys and girl." She said as she walks away and the rabbit's foot burns in the fire.

"You good?" Dean asked Sam as we walk back to the car. "I'll live." Sam said. "I guess we're back to normal now, huh? No good luck, no bad luck." I said and Dean nods before he looks up. "Oh! I forgot we're up $46000. I almost forgot about the...scratch tickets." He said and he searches his jacket and comes up empty.

At that point, Bela's car roars in the distance as she honks her horn. Sam, Dean and I look at each other, then watch her drive away. "SON OF A BITCH!" Dean screams in anger and I smirk a bit.

"Actually, we're not too bad off." I said. "What do you mean?" Dean asked, angrily, and I pull out some of the scratch off tickets from my pocket. Both boys look at me, their eyes widen in shock. "I had a feeling she'd would try to steal something from us after we screwed her over. So, while you guys were getting ready to burn the foot, I went over to your jacket and switched out the tickets." I explained and Sam smiles at this.

"The ones she's got a couple of them are the winning tickets, you know, for the trouble we caused her but a good chunk of them are the ones I bought and they are either duds or a twenty-five dollar winners." I said and Dean smiles at this as Sam chuckles.

"Have I told you that I love you?" Dean said as he comes up to me and I hand him the tickets. "Oh every now and then." I said, smiling, then Dean leans in and kisses me. "Well, I love you." He said and I smiled at him then the three of us head over to the car.

@rach5ive @kitsun369 @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester

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saltcxrcle · 4 months ago

Text

all alone? ── . ✶ ruby

summary: ruby loves popping in and bothering you at the most inconvenient times

pairings: bi! ruby 2.0 x bi! reader, ruby x gn afab! reader, mentions of samruby, implied future sam x reader warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, no use of 'y/n', fem pronouns are used, mentions of blood, smut with very little plot, masturbation, use of vibrators, voyeurism (slightly dub-con), fingering, squirting, scissoring, some degradation mixed with praise, some aftercare, in the same universe as motel chats but can be read as a standalone, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own word count: 5.7k a/n: ofc my longest fic for spn had to be smut for ruby LMAO. anyways im a freak for ruby and this may or may not be a prelude to something else i plan to write (hint its mentioned in the fic). also i would add more warnings to this fic but i don't want to spoil anything :p anyways enjoy this you freaks <3 ruby masterlist

SOMETIMES, YOU WONDERED why you were even friends with the Winchesters. You were currently standing in the middle of a living room in this seemingly normal suburban house, covered in the blood and guts of the witch that the three of you just killed.

Well, it's more like she spontaneously combusted in front of you, and conveniently, Sam and Dean weren’t in the splash zone of her body imploding, so they were spared from being sprayed by her insides.

There wasn’t any inch of you that wasn’t covered in blood. You cried internally about the chunks of flesh in your hair that you would have to wash out with the weak water pressure of the motel shower later. You were just somewhat glad that you weren’t sharing a room with the boys because you would use up all the hot water without hesitation.

You looked at Sam and Dean—the latter looking like he wanted to laugh at the sight of you while the former had a sympathetic smile on his face at your current state.

You heard Dean trying to stifle a snicker before he saw your fierce glare on him, pretending to clear his throat.

“This funny to you Winchester?” You asked him with a raised brow, a plan formulating in your head as you slowly step toward the older Winchester.

He shook his head, trying to keep a serious face on. “Nope, not at all.” Dean hadn’t registered that you were walking toward him, but Sam, being observant, figured out what you were going to do and took a step back from beside his brother.

You sent him a smile full of mischief. “Then you won’t mind if I do this.” You quickly darted toward him and hugged him tight.

Dean didn’t have enough time to move, so his shirt and flannel were getting covered in the witch's blood, making him groan your name out. Sam started to laugh at his brother’s misfortune, and Dean managed to peel you off after squirming in your grip, and it loosened after giggling at the sound of his whining.

Dean registered that Sam was laughing at him and turned to him, a sly smile on his face. “Hey Sammy, can you come here for a second?”

“I’m good right here actually.” Sam was by the front door, looking ready to run out of the house, not trusting the smile on his brother’s face.

“Awe come on! Your brother just wants a hug.” Just as Dean finished his sentence, he rushed toward Sam.

Sam acted quickly and ran out of the house, Dean’s boisterous laugh filling the air as he chased after his brother. You couldn’t help but smile at the sound. It had been a while since you heard him laugh so freely—the threat of Lilith and the angels had been hanging over the three of you for a while, so it was good to hear the brothers mess around a little and pretend that they didn’t shoulder the weight of the world on their backs.

You looked around the trashed living room, the results of the chaos that occurred when trying to kill the witch. You sighed, your muscles ached, and you could feel the blood drying on your clothes and skin. You glanced around the living room one last time before heading out of the house and smiled when you saw that Dean managed to catch Sam in an embrace—Dean had managed to wrangle Sam’s tall frame into a headlock.

You shook your head as you chuckled to yourself at the scene in front of you. You looked around the quiet and empty neighborhood, reminding you exactly where you were.

You whistled sharply. The high-pitched sound caught the boys’ attention–their heads snapping in your direction.

“We should probably get going, the fight wasn’t exactly quiet.” You told them as Dean let go of Sam, and he straightened up back to his full height.

They both nodded and followed you towards where the Impala was parked on the curb in front of the witch’s house.

“Hey, could you try not to get blood on the seats?”

“Shut up Dean.”

Sam let out a little laugh at your and Dean’s exchange before the three of you piled into the car and sped away from suburbia and towards the motel you guys were staying in. You were pretty uncomfortable the entire twenty minutes you were in the car; the drying blood on your skin wasn’t a pleasant sensation. So when you arrived at the motel, Dean had barely parked the car when you bolted from the vehicle and to your room, eager to wash the blood and guts of the dead witch off of you.

After you were done showering and getting dressed, Dean knocked on your door, asking if you were coming with him and Sam to the bar he saw driving in.

You shook your head. “I’m good. Gonna have an early night in.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at you before nodding. “See you in the morning then.”

“See you in the morning.” You confirmed before the two of you traded smiles, and you closed the door with a soft click.

You let out a small sigh of relief. As much as you loved the boys, you really needed time to yourself. Being confined into a singular room with them and without much privacy led you to feel pent up and sexually frustrated being around two conventionally attractive men at all times.

You weren’t blind to the fact that the Winchesters attracted women (and the occasional man) like moths to a flame. You would have definitely slept with either of them at this point in your years of friendship if you didn’t know any better—which you did.

Which is why you wanted a room for yourself. You remembered the weird looks they shot you when you came back with two room keys instead of one. You explained that you wanted your own room for once and that the money you used wasn’t even yours, so you might as well use it before ditching it for another card.

You made your way over to your bag, having left it out on one of the beds in your room, and grabbed the small drawstring bag that held your trusty vibrator and spare batteries. You tossed the small bag on top of the comforter before placing your duffle on the ground and turning off one of the two lamps that were illuminating the room.

You climbed into bed, getting underneath the duvet and thin sheet that the bed was draped in, grabbed the vibrator out of the bag it was in, and set it beside you.

You laid back and closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the mattress. Your hands that were lying idle next to you began to wander. Your fingertips skimmed across your bare thighs, slowly trailing up your leg, bypassing the thin shorts you were wearing and up to the hem of your oversized shirt.

You let out a soft, almost shuddering breath as your hands made their way up your shirt and reached your bare breasts. Your eyes closed at the sensation of your hands caressing and squeezing at the flesh.

You pinched at your nipples, letting a quiet moan escape you at the spark of pleasure that zipped down your spine. Your underwear was slowly dampening with your arousal as you played with your breasts, the tension you were feeling melting away as you let desire overtake your senses.

One of your hands left your breast and made its way back down your body and underneath your underwear. Another moan left your lips as your fingertips brushed against your clit. You let your fingers swipe up the slick that was leaking from your slit and wet your sensitive nub before playing with it, rubbing at it with some pressure as you gripped your breast tightly in the other hand. The coil in your belly slowly grew tighter and faster than you had expected.

God, how long had it been since you were able to have some playtime by yourself? You couldn’t even answer your own question as lust clouded any other thought in your brain.

Harsh breaths were accompanied by low moans that escaped you as you rubbed at your clit and played with your nipple, but you didn’t want to finish so early, wanting to wring as much pleasure as you could before you went back to sharing a room with the Winchesters. So you stopped, you let go of your boob, and slowly retracted your hand from underneath your underwear.

You felt hot with the layers on you but didn’t mind it. You quickly grabbed the portable wand vibrator from beside you before taking off your shorts from underneath the covers—getting lost in the sheets somewhere.

You shifted further down on the bed, your head now resting fully on the pillows as you brought the vibrator down to your now slightly swollen clit. A rush of anticipation coursed through you as the soft silicone was rubbing against you. You rubbed the wand head through your slick before letting it rest on your clit and turning it on.

A soft moan left you as the wand vibrated on the lowest setting. You bit your bottom lip at the feeling, a sigh leaving you as you leaned into the sensations that the vibrator sent through your weeping cunt. You were so wound up that you didn’t really need to think about anything to try and get off, but it didn’t mean that your mind wasn’t going to conjure anything up.

You thought back on a wet dream that you had of Sam a while back. It was a little mortifying that you had it while sharing a bed with him (it may have caused you not to look him in the eyes for two days)—but you weren’t in bed with him now. Your lust-riddled brain didn’t care enough about your embarrassment of thinking about it at this very moment.

You don’t remember how the dream started, but what you did was fuel your craving and satiate your lust-driven hunger as you turned the vibration up on the wand.

Sam’s hands felt like they were everywhere as you felt his teeth nipping at the soft skin of your neck—driving into you with slow but measured thrusts, hitting your g-spot with precision.

"That feel good, baby? Like it when I stuff my big cock into your tight cunt?” Sam’s voice was dark, almost mocking you as the slapping of skin filled the air along with your whines.

Louder moans left your mouth as the vibrations surged through you, amplifying the pleasure that was flooding your veins. You could feel your body flushing with heat as you slowly began the descent into your orgasm.

“You feel so good around me. Gonna fill you up so much.” Sam groaned into your ear before it turned into a grunt, feeling you squeeze around him tightly.

Sam chuckled. “You want me to fill you up with my cum huh?”

You moaned in response, gripping his shoulders tight as he rammed into you. But a whine erupted from your chest when he halted in his thrusts.

He wrapped his free hand around your throat, your eyes flying open at the feeling, meeting his fiery gaze— a roguish smirk on his face.

“Answer me.”

“Yes, please Sam fill me up. I want it so bad.”

“Good girl.” Sam said before pulling you into a rough kiss and resuming his thrusting, going harder and faster than before—making a choked squeal escape your lips at how rough he was being, but you didn’t mind it for a second.

The coil in you was about to snap. You just needed a little more—

“Hmm, didn’t expect this when I decided to drop by.”

The sudden (and unwanted) voice in your room made you halt in your ministrations. Your eyes flew open as you dropped the wand in between your legs. You shot up from your position on the bed to see Ruby standing by the edge of the bed you were in with a sly smirk on her face—her arms crossed as her dark brown eyes looked over your hot and bothered figure.

A scowl made its way onto your lips. “What the fuck Ruby! Why are you here?”

The demon shrugged. “Well I was here to tell you some info I got on Lilith, but I see interrupted something.”

“You think?” You couldn’t help but grumble. The scowl was still ever-present on your face and deepened further at her words. “Couldn’t you have told Sam instead of ambushing me in my room? Besides, I thought he was your favorite out of the three of us.”

Ruby’s eyes glinted with amusement as her head tilted slightly. “I don’t have favorites, but I will say you climbed up the list from the other time I saw you.”

You knew exactly what she was referring to and narrowed your eyes at her, trying to ignore the fact that she ruined your orgasm and that you were half-naked underneath the blanket.

“Great! I’m so honored that I’ve climbed the ranks.” You snarked as you rolled your eyes. “Sam’s at the bar with Dean, you can tell him there.”

“But I wanted to tell you first.”

“Well, I’m a little busy.”

“Yeah, so busy.” Ruby scoffed at you, uncrossing her arms and settling one of her hands on her hip. “Getting off is a pathetic excuse to try and avoid me.”

Your jaw clenched. “Just get to the point Ruby so we can go our separate ways.”

Ruby pursed her lips before a sly smile grew on her face. “I tell you what I know if you tell me what you were thinking about when you were playing with yourself.”

“What the fuck? No! What is wrong with you?” You looked at her aghast.

Ruby just chuckled at your expression before taking off her leather jacket and starting to crawl up the bed. You couldn’t help but sit up as she slowly made her way to you.

“Come on, its a fair trade don’t you think?” She was on her knees by your side.

“I think our definitions of fair are very different. Besides, you came here to tell me something, not the other way around.”

Ruby rolled her eyes at you as she leaned closer to you. “You’re a real stickler for semantics.”

“Yeah, and you’re a real pain in my ass.”

Ruby chuckled again and leaned even closer to you, her breath fanning over your lips. “You sure know how to sweet talk a girl.”

“It’s not sweet talking when you’re a demon.”

“Really? Not sweet talking? Then why aren’t you leaning away from me?”

You swallowed thickly. You honestly don’t know why you weren’t revolted by the close proximity of the demon in front of you.

Maybe it was the familiar scent of mint, leather, and tequila that brought you back to the night when the two of you slept with each other for the first time, which made you not recoil from Ruby. Or maybe it was because you were still horny, and you had a feeling that Ruby wanted a repeat of what happened last time.

A beat of silence settled between the two of you. Ruby’s eyes flickered from your lips back to your eyes. You couldn’t help but do the same thing, focusing on the plushness of her lips. You remember how soft and warm they were against yours. You blinked before meeting her gaze once more.

“You’re so fucking annoying.” You breathed out before reaching up, grabbing Ruby’s neck, and kissing her roughly.

Ruby couldn’t help but smirk against your lips before kissing you back with the same intensity. She pulled away the duvet that was covering your bare legs before shoving you down back on the bed.

You were a bit breathless from the kiss but barely had time to catch your breath before Ruby’s lips descended back on yours again. Her tongue delved into your mouth, familiarizing herself with your taste again as Ruby slotted herself in between your open legs—her jean-clad center brushing against your bare core.

The harsh material of the denim brushing against your clit made you moan into Ruby’s mouth. Her hands made their way up your legs and to the hem of your shirt. Ruby made quick work of your shirt, her lips leaving yours as she aggressively pulled it off of you, leaving you completely bare to her.

Ruby’s eyes zeroed in on your pussy. It was practically glistening underneath the dim lighting of the room. Her lips quirked up into a smirk before leaning down and pressing her lips against your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin—Ruby’s hands caressing your sides and hips before trailing her lips over the smooth skin of your breasts. She bit lightly at the swell of you breast before she slinked down your body, wet kisses following in their wake.

Your breathing became labored as Ruby reached your cunt. Her kisses were light and teasing in between the soft skin of your inner thighs. She kept you distracted with her teasing kisses. Ruby grabbed the vibrator you were using early and turned it back on, the low hum grabbing your attention.

Your eyes fluttered open, and before you could say anything, Ruby put the silicone head against your clit—a low moan replacing any words that would have fallen from your lips.

Ruby pulled away from your thigh, eyes flickering between your face and leaking pussy. She turned it up to medium speed, a louder moan leaving you at the more intense sensation running through you. Your once-ruined orgasm came hurdling back, the coil winding tighter and tighter and threatening to snap.

“You going to tell me about what you were thinking about earlier?.” Ruby hummed out.

“Y-you mean before you so rudely interrupted?” You could barely spit the words out. Pleasure overwhelmed your senses. “N-not going to h-happen.”

Ruby let out a low chuckle, moving the vibrating head from your clit and running in through your wet slit, lubricating it. “Should’ve known you were going to be stubborn about it.” She murmured before ripping the toy away from you completely.

A frustrated groan left you as you squeezed your eyes shut. This was the third time that you were on the cusp of an orgasm, and honestly, you were close to just pushing Ruby away and doing the job yourself. There was no way you were telling her anything about what you were thinking about.

“The sooner you tell me the sooner you can come.” Ruby was rubbing the slightly slick head of the toy in the crease of your hips. She could tell you were wearing down on the idea, so she put the toy back on your clit.

A pleasure gasp left you. “I- fuck. I was thinking about the last time we slept together.” You were not going to tell her the truth if your life depended on it.

Ruby laughed softly. ““Hmm, I’d be flattered if you were telling the truth.” She moved the toy away from you again before moving up your body, stopping when her clothed figure was draped over yours.

“Tell me the truth and I’ll make you come. It’s as simple as that.” Ruby had a saccharine smile as she batted her eyelashes almost coquettishly at you.

Your lips twisted up in a snarl, irritation flooding your features as you stared at Ruby.

“I bet you were thinking about Sam fucking you.” Ruby’s words made your stomach twist.

You cleared your throat roughly.” How did you-”

“Spells come in handy babe.” Ruby winked at you before moving back down in between your legs again.

You vaguely remember Sam mentioning who Ruby was before she became a demon, and you could only imagine what she did to know what you were thinking about. You jumped at the sudden sensation of buzzing again your already abused clit.

“Was Sam eating you out? Or was he fucking you?” You couldn’t help but clench around nothing at her words. You had no idea why this kind of talk was turning you on so much.

Ruby nipped at your thigh. “Answer me.”

You let out a moan at the familiar words. “Shit, h-he was fucking me.”

“Mmm, hard and rough right? That’s how he usually fucks me.” The sudden image of Sam and Ruby fucking increased the pleasure you were feeling. A keening whine erupted from your chest at the feeling of Ruby’s fingers filling you alongside the toy that was pressed hard against your sensitive nub.

“Ooh, you like that? Do you like the thought of me and Sam fucking each other? Oh who am I kidding, I can feel you clench around my fingers like the whore that you are.”

Ruby’s dexterous fingers were able to find your g-spot with ease and hit it with deadly accuracy. You could feel an unfamiliar but not unwelcome pressure building in your lower abdomen. Your moans echoed throughout the room, along with the buzz of the vibrator against your swollen clit.

“So needy, wanting to fuck me and him at the same time. I bet Sam would like the idea of you joining us.” Ruby cooed, but it almost fell deaf on your ears as your orgasm was building and threatening to spiral out of control.

“I can see it now, Sam fucking you from behind as you eat me out. Or you sitting on his face as I ride him. It sounds like a whole lot of fun to me.” A wide grin was on her face as Ruby felt you squeeze her fingers hard as moans tumbled from your lips.

The scenarios that Ruby was describing were vivid in your mind. The pressure in your abdomen burst, and you all but shouted in pleasure, your orgasm blinding any and all of your senses.

Ruby let out a breathy laugh at the sight of you squirting—soaking the toy, her fingers, and your thighs. She kept moving her fingers in and out of you slowly but removed the toy from your clit and turned it off, tossing it on the other side of the bed.

You could faintly feel a dampness between your legs, but you paid no mind to it as you tried to recover from the pleasure overload you just experienced. You’ve never come that hard before, and it took you a bit to try to calm down. You heard rustling coming from Ruby, but you ignored her as you inhaled deeply and exhaled shakily.

By the time you recovered and peeled your eyes open, you were met with the sight of a nude Ruby hovering over you. You took in her vessel’s tanned skin that was dotted with beauty marks, matching the ones on her face.

“Like what you see?” Ruby teased as her lips brushed against yours.

You didn’t bother with replying, not wanting to give her any kind of satisfaction of a response. Instead, you lifted your head up to capture her lips between yours. It was a softer kiss compared to the ones you shared earlier, but it did the job.

Ruby sunk into the kiss as you reached for her waist. One of your hands made its way up her back, scratching it lightly before you grabbed some of the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled at it. She moaned lightly into your mouth as the two of you kissed.

Ruby pulled away from the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip before removing herself entirely from you. She sat up and grabbed your left leg, moving it so your legs were wide open and maneuvered, so she was almost straddling your leg, but you understood her intention immediately.

Before she could place her pussy against yours, you brought up your hand and rubbed at her wet slit. Fuck she was soaked. You immediately inserted two of your fingers into her.

Ruby let out a husky moan at the feeling of your fingers filling her up, and you pumped them in and out of her a couple of times before she swatted at your hand, making you retract your hand from within her.

You let out a small laugh before it turned into a moan as Ruby placed her wet cunt against yours. She let out a satisfied sigh at the feeling of your pussy rubbing against hers. Ruby started a slow grind against you, moans and whines leaving the both of you as the two of you scissored.

“Fuck, babe, you feel so good against me.” Ruby’s voice was thick with pleasure as her hips started to pick up speed. “We need to do this more often.”

You couldn’t answer her but grabbed her hips to help her move against you. You slapped her ass before gripping it tight and trying to create more friction for the two of you. The two of you were uncaring about how loud you guys were as the both of you surrendered to the desire running through your veins.

Although Ruby was feeling her orgasm building, she felt like something was missing. Her eyes went to the toy she just used on you earlier before meeting your eyes. You caught on to what Ruby wanted, so she stopped her movements so you could grab your vibrator.

Once you did, you turned it on—Ruby lifted her hips from yours so you could place the toy in between the two of you before she lowered herself again.

“Fuck!” You and Ruby exclaimed simultaneously. Your moans got even louder with the added addition of the vibrator in between the two of you. You held on to it while your other hand rested on her hips—Ruby’s hands were on your left leg, using it as leverage as her hips moved rapidly.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” You managed to say in between your moans. You could feel the familiar coil winding up in your abdomen.

Ruby nodded. “Fuck, yeah same m’close.” She started to grind harder against you and the toy, sending more heat down your spine, and the tell-tale sign of your orgasm was soon approaching.

“Come with me.” You said as you squeezed her hip hard, your nails biting into her skin. The sharp sting of pain sent a bolt of pleasure down her spine as she nodded.

Ruby’s hips began to stutter and falter as her orgasm hit her, but she was able to keep moving against you, and you soon followed her; your grip on the wand fell. Your and Ruby’s moans filled the motel room as you came together.

Ruby was barely able to lift herself away from your soaked overstimulated pussy. She fell on top of your relaxed leg, pinning it to the bed as you fumbled with the vibrator, just barely mustering up the ability to turn it off.

The room felt warm as labored breaths filled the silence between you and the demon. After Ruby caught her breath, she lifted herself off of your leg, and when she looked back, you were fast asleep. She let out a low chuckle at the sight of you.

Ruby got up from the bed, grabbed your vibrator, and went into the bathroom, cleaning herself quickly and the toy before using a warm, damp washcloth and going back into your room and cleaning you up. You barely stirred as she did, and once she was done, Ruby moved you to the spare bed in your room.

Her stare lingered on your serene face before shaking her head. If Sam’s puppy dog eyes couldn’t make her cold body feel warm then she couldn’t make an exception for his friend. Ruby quickly left your room, trying to drill into her mind the real reason why she was there and “helping out” the Winchesters. But it didn’t mean she couldn’t have fun with you and Sam before everything unfolded.

BONUS!

⤷ Sam’s POV:

Dean had ditched him at the bar, finding someone to go home with the night. He had tossed him the keys and sent him a wink before following the brunette that captured his attention for the night.

Sam shook his head at his brother, but he was glad that he could sleep in a bed tonight and not in the Impala. Soon after Dean left, Sam didn’t feel the need to stay at the bar any longer, so he made his way to the Impala.

Sam secretly wished that you had come with them so he didn’t have to deal with Dean alone, but he understood why you didn’t come after Dean told him when he got back in the room they were sharing before leaving for the bar.

The drive to the motel was pretty short, and Sam was ready to relax and decompress from today’s events. He made his way to his room, glancing at your door briefly. He was debating on knocking on your door but refrained, knowing that you were tired from the day that you had.

Sam unlocked the room, stepped into the dimly lit room, and closed the door behind him. He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on the edge of the bed next to him as he sat down—the bed spring creaking under the sudden weight. He laid back on the bed, attempting to sink into the stiff mattress before letting out a low sigh.

Sam’s eyes fluttered shut. He wanted to rest for a bit—Sam wasn’t in a rush to get ready for bed since he didn’t have to fight for the shower with Dean.

The room was relatively quiet, save for the occasional car driving down the street. Sam could feel the exhaustion pulling at him, and as tempting as it was to succumb to the feeling, he wanted to shower the day off.

But before he could get up from the bed, a muffled moan caught his attention. Sam sat up slowly, his brows furrowing at the sudden sound. But it shouldn’t surprise him that people were having sex in this motel and the fact that the walls were thin enough to hear the noises.

Another moan filtered into his ears. It was louder this time and seemingly closer. He shook his head and went to get up from the bed before the moans grew louder and louder, and he realized it was coming from the room next to him. Your room.

His eyes widened. Oh. Sam thought as he tried to ignore your whines through the thin walls of the motel rooms. Is that why you didn’t want to come with them to the bar? Because you needed to relieve your sexual frustration, and that’s why you got a separate room from them? Now your shortness with him and Dean made more sense.

Sam’s mind ran through these thoughts as the moans kept growing in volume. A sharp squeal echoed into his room, and he couldn’t help his body’s reaction to the noises coming from your room, his cock hardening in his jeans. Sam knew that he should stop listening in and go into the bathroom and take the coldest shower to man until you eventually stopped or fell asleep.

But his slightly inebriated state didn’t want him to move from his spot. He swallowed hard before unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. Sam barely pulled down his jeans and boxers—just enough to pull his cock out, now fully hard and beginning to leak precum.

Sam spit into his hand before slowly stroking his length. A low sigh left his lips as he fell back onto the bed. Fuck you sounded so good. His eyes closed involuntarily as his eyes provided him images of you splayed out on the bed, playing with your pretty pussy— it had to be. There wasn't an inch of you that he didn’t admire— a groan left him as his hand slowly sped up, letting the lust he felt run through him and warm him inside and out.

Then there was a loud shout of pleasure before there was a lull of silence in the room, making him halt in his stroking—his hand still on the base of his cock. Sam had to strain his ears to try and hear your low voice through the walls, but couldn’t decipher what you were saying. Did you have someone else in the room with you? He couldn’t help but feel a spark of irritation at the thought as envy filled his veins.

“Fuck!” He heard you exclaim through the walls. It sounded louder than it should have, but then a higher-pitched moan came through the wall. Why did it sound familiar? The thought was a fleeting one before he started to fuck his fist again.

Sam expected a deeper moan following what he assumed to be your noises, but it was a more feminine moan that came after yours. Sam’s face flushed with heat, and thrusted into his hand harder when he realized that you were with another woman. Shit, that’s hot. Fuck I wish I was in her room watching them right now.

The moans grew louder and louder, and Sam could feel his orgasm fast approaching—his dick was twitching in his hand, and more precum trickled from his tip and down his length, using it as a lubricant along with his spit.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” Sam heard you say through the wall.

“Come f’me pretty girl.” Sam murmured in response. He felt his balls draw up as his abs clenched in anticipation—feeling his pleasure zip up his spine.

A low grunt left his lips at the sound of your keening whine that practically reverberated off the walls and directly into his ears. Warm spurts of his cum coated his hand and some landed on his lower stomach—Sam had managed to pull up his shirt right before he came. He was grateful that he did, not wanting a ribbing from Dean the next time they went to do laundry.

Sam laid down on the bed for a moment, trying to recollect himself. Both rooms were silent, so he assumed that you and your partner for the night had fallen asleep.

Sam got up from the bed, tucking himself back into his pants, and quickly made his way to the bathroom. He hastily stripped off his clothes and got into the shower, trying to ignore the guilt that was settling in his gut as he cleaned off his cum and the rest of the day off.

Post-nut clarity was a bitch.

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