#sam Winchester oneshot

[call-me-mrs-winchester]

RELAX

PAIRING : stanford!sam winchester x fem!reader

SUMMARY : reader is stressed from studying for her upcoming final and sam helps her relax

WARNINGS : fluff. smut. oral (fem. receiving). fingering. rough sex. unprotected p in v. creampie. strong language.

REQUESTED BY @s4wdvator : "I would love a Sam Winchester fic, I love him, I'm a total Sam girl who also loves Dean hejehjhehe. It would be a Stanford thing!Sam dating Fem!Reader, it could be smutt or fluff!!"

A/N : this was requested by a fellow mutual of mine (sorry it took so long.) hopefully it's similar to what you had in mind, if not, hope you enjoy it anyway! my requests are currently on hold since i have so many ideas of my own that i still need to write, but it'll be open in the future, i promise. this is my first sam oneshot ever, hope you guys enjoy it!

For the past week, you went to class and then straight home. You had a huge test coming up that counted for half your grade. If you failed, you could kiss your scholarship goodbye. So, for the weekend, you decided to turn your distracting phone off so you could study. And it seemed to work... until it didn't.

The room had been eerily silent as you read. You were so concentrated on the material before you that a loud knock made you jump in freight. After a beat or two, your heart calms. With a groan, you push the chair away from the desk and walk to the door. Sam stands before you, a worried expression on his face.

"Y/N," He huffs. "Are you all right? I've been calling and texting you!"

You sigh, moving out of the doorway to let him in. "'Sorry. I've been studying."

He walks in, and you close the door behind him. "Your head's been buried in that book for a week. You need to take a break."

You sit on your bed, replying, "I can't. If I fail, I won't be able to afford to keep going here. Then how will we be together?"

"Hey," Sam sits beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Don't talk like that. You're the most intelligent girl I know. You'll pass the test."

You stand up, facing him as you rant. "But what if I don't? What if I have to leave and—"

"You're not going to leave." He interrupts your spiraling, knowing if he didn't stop it now, you wouldn't stop. "You're going to pass. Then you'll be stuck with me."

A giggle slips past your lips. You could always count on your boyfriend to lighten your mood. A smirk takes over his beautiful face, his gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips.

Sam leans in closer and says, "Take a break. Let me help you relax."

You hesitate for a moment, afraid if you give in, you won't be able to study afterward. "I don't know..."

"I'll quiz you after." He entices.

"Mm... alright."

Sam gets up from the mattress and sheds his jacket. Tossing it aside, he tells you to lay on your belly. Without question, you do as he says. You stretch across your bed, head tilted towards the wall, eyes closed, as you slowly inhale. The bed dips as Sam climbs on before sitting on your ass. His large and magical hands grip your tense shoulders. You exhale in euphoria as his fingers dig into your muscles just right.

Tingling sensations rid the worry from your body. Your teeth sink into your lip, trying to suppress moans. Part of you didn't want to admit how much you needed this. His hands travel below your shoulder blades, toward the middle of your back. He works your back exactly how you need it, causing breathy groans to slip past your lips. It continues for a few minutes, and you're in another world.

Your brain becomes unaware of Sam sliding off and kneeling between your thighs. His hands begin to massage your behind, quickly drawing your attention. Part of you knew you should stop him, but the other didn't want to. Instead, you let his hands slither under your loose-fitted shorts and focus on your ass. His thumbs massage closer and closer to your lips, occasionally brushing against them.

It was all you could think about. You need him. You craved Sam's long and slender fingers inside you. The more he teased, the wetter your pussy got. You open your legs wider, giving him access like any other time.

A whimper falls from your mouth as your boyfriend gently rubs over your slick entrance. Wetness lubricates his thumbs, and before you beg him to, he slides them in. You gasped, but just as fast as they were in, they were out. He brings his fore and middle fingers to your entrance before gliding your slick towards your clit.

He rubs your bundle of nerves a few times, only making you wetter. The moans held back were now audible. His fingers slide back to your core, and without missing a beat, he plunges them in. Your body tenses as he dives deep, the tips of his long fingers hitting your cervix. A pained yet pleasurable moan echoes in the small room.

You were so thankful your roommate decided to go out. Sam slowly draws his fingers in and out. Once they're covered in your wetness, they disappear from your core. You open your eyes and look over your shoulder, missing his touch. The sight you saw somehow made you wetter. He had his fingers in his mouth, his cheeks hollowing around his digits, sucking them clean.

He slowly pulls them out, and you watch with admiration. Sam flips you on your back, granting you a better view. He pulls your underwear down, leaving you in the oversized shift you stole from him. He tosses them off the bed and gives you a mischievous smirk. His head dips between your thighs, and your hand quickly grabs his hair.

His mouth closes around your clit, sucking hard enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your walls clench around nothing, making you miss his fingers. As if he read your mind, he fills you with his slender digits. He steadily increases his speed until he reaches the pace that makes your toes curl and your back arch. Your grip on his hair tightens as his teeth graze and lightly bite your clit before soothing it with his tongue.

The pressure in your belly quickly builds, threatening to burst. You force your vision to focus right on your boyfriend. As if he sensed your stare, he gazes up at you, a smirk upon his lips. You throw your head back as he harshly sucks on your sensitive nub. His knuckles pound against your skin, leaving bruises where your pussy ends and your legs begin. It all became too much, and before you knew it, you came on his fingers.

Without missing a beat, Sam removes his fingers and drags his tongue across your soaked entrance, licking between each fold to get every last drop. Once he finishes, he sits up and unbuckles his belt. As relaxed as you feel, you wouldn't mind a good fucking. He unzips and pulls his pants to his knees. You dampen and bite your bottom lip as his member springs free.

There were several reasons why you fell in love with Sam, and his dick was one of them. You'd never objectify him, but if others understood what hid beneath his boxers, they'd try harder to steal him away. The first time you'd seen it, you wondered how he planned to fit his entire cock inside you. It took a few tries before you could finally take him all in, and man, was it worth it. You hated to admit it, but he had you dick-whipped.

"Like what you see?"

"Mhm. Now, shut up and fuck me," You demand before pulling his neck down and connecting your lips with his.

You could taste your sweet juice on his tongue. The thought of you tasting your cum on another man's lips repulsed you, but on Sam's, it only fed your lust. He presses his body against yours, his tip tracing your inner thigh. You moan into his mouth, practically begging for more. Sam breaks the kiss but remains close enough that his breath fans across your lips as he speaks.

"You ready for me?" You nod eagerly. He reaches between your legs, aligning his long member with your entrance. With eyes closed, you anticipate the slight but brief pain that'll come with his penetration. He holds down your hip with his left hand, feeling how tense you are before whispering, "Relax."

That's exactly what you did. Or at least tried to, anyway. You take a few deep breaths, willing your mind and heart rate to slow. Once Sam feels your body loosen, he pushes himself into your tight cunt. You whimper as his dick stretches your walls, both pleasure and pain fighting for dominance. He fits half of his appendage before pulling out. With every thrust, he goes deeper and deeper until his entire cock fits inside your small hole. Soon, the pleasure had won.

You were a moaning mess underneath your boyfriend. His hips moved skillfully, pushing you towards the edge. You clutch his shirt, hanging on for dear life as he rails into you at a hard and fast pace. The tip of his member brushes against your cervix when you wrap your legs around his torso, giving him a deeper angle. The sounds of skin clapping and your bed creaking to the rhythm of each thrust fill the quiet room.

He dips his head, finding comfort in your neck. Sam nibbles at your skin before sucking harshly, leaving a mark. You try arching your back, but his weight won't let you. Tears pool in your eyes as the pleasure becomes overwhelming. His hand snakes between your bodies, and his thumb rubs your sensitive clit. It was enough for your tears to spill over. You feel the familiar rush and warn Sam.

"Ohmygod, baby, I'mgonnacum," You mumble quickly.

"Let it go, sweetheart."

With his permission, you came undone. You scream as the waves wash over your body. Sam helps you ride out your orgasm, somehow going even harder. Your eyes roll back, and your mouth forms an 'O' as he murders your soaked pussy. It was pure luck you liked it hard and fast like he does.

You knew from experience your lips would be swollen after this, and hell if you didn't consider it a trophy. Suddenly, Sam's thrusts stopped, and you knew what that meant. He was cumming. And sure enough, spurts of hot cum shoot into you as he grunts into your ear. You moan as he fills you up, making you feel full in a different but great way.

He kisses his way to your mouth and shoves his tongue down your throat. You run your fingers through his hair as your body warms up for round 2. After your legs drop to the mattress and shake, you decide to wait a little longer before taking that rollercoaster ride again. Sam pulls away, so you open your eyes and see him gazing lovingly at you. A smile pulls at your lips to match his.

"Are you relaxed?"

You couldn't help but chuckle and answer, "I'm so relaxed."

"Good," He gives you a quick peck. "I should help you relax more often."

"Well, I'll be studying until next Thursday."

"Mm..." Sam traces his lips along your face, tickling your skin. "Sounds good to me."

He kisses your shoulder before pulling out of your dripping cunt and getting up from the bed. You prop yourself on one shoulder as you wonder what he was doing. He pulls on his boxers and walks toward your desk. Your eyebrows furrow as he picks up your textbook. And true to his word, he began quizzing you.

SAM WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAG LIST

FOREVER TAGS : @jaredpadonlyyyy, @nicksalchemy1, @graciehams, @impala67rollingthroughtown, @nancymcl

SAM TAGS : @lucid315

SUPERNATURAL TAGS : @criminalyetminimal, @nikimisery, @celticma, @deadlymistletoe, @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld

@kindollss, @juicyballsworld, @kamisobsessed, @devilslittlehelper

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO CALL-ME-MRS-WINCHESTER

: do not steal, plagiarize, translate, and/or republish any of my works* on here or another platform

*beside my writing, my works include : all banners, headers, dividers, and gifs that i use (which were made by me,) unless otherwise stated.

[ohsc]

₊˚⊹♡ letting you | sam winchester x reader

a/n - this might be the fastest i’ve ever written a fic??? it’s pure filth so that might be why but LMAO, i love love love the idea of soft dom sam sm he melts my brain, hopefully this is good!! getting back into writing after taking a break from being sick bc my brain wouldn’t work. special thanks to my friend who helped me brainstorm the delicious idea ilysm !! <3

cws - fem!reader, 1.6k, nsfw 18+, softdom!sam, sub!reader, cockwarming, masturbation, praise, kinda unedited

other fics can be found on my masterlist

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The only thing she could hear was Sam’s soft breathing, and the soft tap tap tap of his laptop keys behind her.

If she paid close enough attention, she could hear the way his shirt rustled when he moved his arms, the soft fluttering of book pages being turned, but her focus wasn’t really attainable, it was slipping through her fingers with each excruciating moment that she was sat there.

Sam shifted in his seat out of a pure intention to get comfortable, and his cock nudged deeper inside of her wet heat, dragged a soft gasp from her lips, which just earned her a soft “shh, honey” against the shell of her ear.

It had been her fault that she was in that position in the first place. She’d been a little too needy with Sam when he was trying to research, and on her third attempt at trying to initiate a — much needed, mind you — make out, he’d grabbed her hips and tugged her into his lap facing him. His voice had been a little stern as he told her to pull his cock out, and the tone of his voice alone had her cunt clenching around nothing as she quickly did as she’d been asked. She knew that voice, she’d had it in her ear most nights, whispered against her throat, against the plush of her thighs. It meant he was in control.

Sam had sat back from the library's table for enough time for her to pull his cock out and pull aside her panties, sank down onto him with a soft moan, but before she could move he grabbed her hips tightly, kept her still.

“Don’t move,” he’d dipped his head down and kissed her throat, pulse fluttering beneath his lips. “Stay there while I finish up and I’ll take care of you after, hm?”

If she was feeling a bit more bratty she would’ve whined or complained or just moved anyways, but his voice in her ear and his hands on her hips had her head spinning, so she just nodded and tucked her head against his throat as he leaned over her to continue what he was doing, completely focused, as if he wasn’t buried deep inside her pussy at that moment.

That had been twenty minutes ago.

It was becoming torturous.

Sam was unfairly skilled at keeping composed. He was also unfairly skilled at winding her up. Those two went hand in hand, it seemed, because each second that passed just worked her up more and more. All she could focus on was the warmth of his body pressed to hers, his cock nestled deep inside of her, the lack of stimulation. When she’d came out to the library with her attempt at bothering him, she’d craved a genuine release, not this.

Her hips shifted slightly and she squeezed her eyes shut, huffed out a soft “Sammy” against his throat when that slight movement was enough for her pussy to throb around him.

“Stay still.” He murmured without as much of a look in her direction. She glanced up at him and his eyes were locked forwards, pupils shifting left to right as he read whatever was displayed on his laptop screen. Tap tap tap, more pages turned, more reading, rinse, repeat. He was killing her.

Barely a minute had passed before she made another soft sound against the warm skin of his throat, lips brushing his neck, “Baby please-”

“My hands are busy, sweetheart,” his voice was so nonchalant it drove her up the wall. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

Her eyes squeezed shut as she huffed against his throat again. “Can you just take a break?”

“No,” he shook his head. “No, I’m almost done, you’ll just have to wait,” he tsked, a hand briefly pet her hair, the touch so light it was like he was purposely depriving her of any stimulation. “If you’re that needy, you have two hands of your own, baby. Sort yourself out until I’m finished with this.”

She released a shuddered breath against his throat, squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. It wasn’t the answer she’d wanted.

“Hey,” one of his hands came up to the side of her neck and he pressed his thumb against her jaw, tilted her head back until he could meet her eyes. “I told you I’d sort you out once I finished, didn’t I?”

She nodded, bit the inside of her cheek.

“So isn’t it nice of me that I’m letting you get yourself off in the meantime?”

Letting you. Her cunt throbbed again.

“Yeah.” She whispered.

Sam leaned down and kissed her, just a soft little peck, and somehow it just riled her up more. “I’ll be done soon. Go ahead and sort yourself out for me, sweetheart.”

He let go of her jaw and moved his arms to the table again, continued tapping at his laptop, and her eyes scrunched closed again as she tipped forward and rested her forehead against his throat. But she was so needy that she didn’t think twice about following his instructions. One hand stayed tucked at his waist, fingers curled into the soft material of his flannel, and her other reached between them and tucked under the material of her shirt, fingering at the waistband of her panties until she slipped beneath those too, and she was so fucking wet that she was undoubtedly making a mess of his jeans from just sitting there.

Her fingers dipped down, pressed against her clit, and she shuddered as the stimulation made her clench around his cock deliciously. She pressed her fingers forwards again, started to shamelessly rub herself, exhaled soft little moans and sighs against his throat.

Before she could do anything else Sam’s voice was in her ear again, “Quiet, sweetheart. You’re meant to be letting me work, don’t make me tell you to stop.”

Her jaw clenched as she exhaled shakily, eyes squeezed shut, and she huffed a breath against his throat as she took a moment to compose herself. Now that she’d started touching herself, it’d just be a torture to stop, so she just nodded against his throat with the intent to keep herself quiet.

It took a moment for her to settle on a pace. She was a bit too needy with it, her hand squished between their bodies, knuckles pressed to his hard muscles each time she shifted her hand, but eventually she settled into a pace that had her eyes rolled back and squeezed shut, the fingers of her other hand curled tightly into the material of his flannel.

She circled her clit with the pads of her fingers again and again, but it was the feeling inside of her every time her cunt clenched around his cock that made it hard for her to keep quiet. She was half tempted to bite down on his collar to shut herself up, but Sam seemed to be letting her get away with the slight gasps and whimpers that she couldn’t stop herself letting up.

It took an embarrassingly short time for her to get close — her forehead was pressed to his throat, hot breaths puffed out against his skin, trying not to shift her hips as she rubbed at her clit with a need that thrummed within her veins. Her jaw clenched and she held her breath, eyes squeezed shut tighter as she worked herself closer.

“Breathe,” Sam’s breath tickled her ear as he spoke softly. She had a tendency to hold her breath when she came sometimes if she was especially worked up — she didn’t even know Sam was paying attention. She took a shuddery breath, and he murmured a soft, “that’s it.”

It only took a few more circles on her clit before she came and she grit her teeth, huffed out a sharp breath through her nose as the feeling washed over her. Her cunt pulsed in pleasure, waves that kept her rubbing at her clit until it felt too much, and when she finally stopped she was breathing sharply against his neck. Her hand was a bit cramped, fingers wet, heartbeat drumming, but the release felt so nice after she’d been so worked up.

“Good girl,” Sam crooned, and she could’ve cum again at the tone of his voice. “Good girl. Did that help?”

She nodded against his throat, relaxed into his front.

“Yeah?” He asked. “Are you gonna keep still until I’m finished now?”

She nodded again.

“Baby,” she felt his hand smooth up her back until his fingers delicately tangled in her hair, only enough to pull her head back to look at him. “I wanna hear you say it.”

She blinked a few times up at him. He was so devastatingly handsome, it wasn’t fair. “I’ll keep still,” she mumbled, face feeling far too hot. “Promise.”

“Oh, you promise?” She didn’t miss the teasing edge to his words, the smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

She nodded again. “Yeah, Sammy.”

“Good girl,” he praised once more, and was nice enough to give her a proper kiss that time. It still wasn’t what she craved — she didn’t feel his tongue in her mouth, he didn’t kiss her until she went dizzy — but it was nicer and kinder than a little peck. “Ten minutes and I’m all yours.”

She settled back into his chest as he went back to work, comfy to just rest against him in her post-orgasm euphoria, happy to wait the ten minutes until he was finished. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d fucked her on the library table that week.

[prentissluvr]

three seconds — sam winchester

for : 200+ followers event [ closed ] ➖⟢ pairing : sam winchester x gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : fluff ➖⟢ cw : light swearing, accidental cuddling, casual mention of marriage between sam and reader (it's just dean teasing tho lol), idiots friends to lovers, kissing, barely edited ➖⟢ wc : 1.2K prompt : sleeping in the same bed, as they’d often do, but one morning waking up cuddling

to be truthful, this isn’t the first time you’ve woken up with yours and sam’s limbs entangled with each other’s. it’s just far less common for his hand to be so gloriously attached to your waist or his face to be tucked all sweet and warm into your neck. your own hands are placed in his hair and on his broad shoulder blade.

waking up like this is heaven; first, in the moments before you can process exactly what is happening, and second, once you realize and can bask in the splendor of having him so intimately close and vulnerable with you. then it comes crashing down as you remember that this isn’t quite how it’s supposed to be, and that you’ll never, not for a moment, be able to get this feeling out of your head, your body.

which means every moment after you untangle yourself from him will be full of a pure, undying, taunting want, maybe even need, to have him like that again. such a feeling is a general inconvenience as one considers that sam is your best friend, that he and his brother are just about all you have, and that you’d rather die than lose them to the fact that you’re in love with him. so clearly, it’s better he never knows, it’s just that constantly thinking about cuddling with him tends to lead to you making heart eyes at him or your cheeks flushing hot when he looks at you a moment too long.

then there’s the realization that sam is still asleep, the steady rhythm of his breath tickling your neck is both comforting and terrifying all at once. what if he wakes and jerks away, uncomfortable with your proximity? should you push him away before he even realizes the position you’re in? it’s not as if sam doesn’t enjoy physical affection; he pretends he doesn’t, but you’re convinced that he’s a cuddlebug at heart. maybe that’s an overly cute way of putting it, but you can feel how much he loves hugs, how much he enjoys having his head in your lap when you get a rare movie night. you’re just worried that this is too much, too close for even him.

and yet, you’re feeling selfish, because what if you never get him like this again? so you close your eyes again and just revel in the way it feels to have the tip of his nose pressed to your neck and his forehead against your jaw. his hands on you, so steady and sure in his sleep. his hair, soft between your fingers and the muscle of his back under your palm. his leg, tucked between yours. just the weight of him, pressed against you all solid and real and almost immovable until he wakes.

you hear dean stir a few feet away and you pray he won’t be able to tell you’re not asleep. breath even and eyes still gently closed, you hear dean move about, mumbling to himself. he’s digging around in a bag, pulling something out. then you feel him move closer and you swear he’s hovering at the foot of the bed.

then you hear a click, like that of a camera shutter, and you realize dean’s taken a picture of the two of you like this. pictures of the three of you are rarer, and dean being the one to take it means it’s special. you suppose blackmail is special in its own way and beg to no one that dean didn’t hear your breath hitch as you realize this moment is now immortalized by a picture that dean’ll print out someday and shove in your faces to make fun.

then dean’s mumbling to himself again, now close and loud enough for you to make out his words. “these two,” he sighs, tone practically chastising as if he sees something glaringly obvious, but the both of you can’t seem to quite get there. “i swear, the heart eyes from across the room, the longing gazes. god, they’ll be the death of me.” 

he really, truly thinks you’re asleep. he talks like this when he doesn’t know you can hear him. though usually not about you and sam, not like this. “they’re both such idiots. idiots in love,” he laughs humorlessly to himself, then turns away, stuffing the camera back in the bag he dug it out from. “maybe i should lock them in a closet,” he considers, voice so low you can barely catch his words, “see who caves first. then they’ll probably only thank me for that or the puke-inducingly cute photo once they’re married, those ungrateful asses. kids these days.” he lets out a huff of breath as he heads to the bathroom, seemingly done with his ranting about … about what? you and sam being in love with each other? what the hell was he saying, married? you and sam? you have to hold back from letting out a lovesick sigh.

you’re so caught up turning dean’s words over in your mind that only sam’s hand lightly squeezing your side brings you back to the present. your eyes shoot open and you pull your hand out of his hair. sam parts from you, barely. how long has he been awake? you’re almost too scared to look at sam, who hasn’t even attempted to untangle himself from you. he’s still got his hand on your waist and his leg tucked between yours and your eyes catch his without you meaning to. it’s always like that; your eyes will wander until they find his face, every time. it’s habit, instinct, unavoidable.

he looks at you long, and something about his pretty eyes turned green from the morning light and the color of the sheets keeps you holding his gaze, taking him in as he does you.

when sam finally speaks, his voice is hushed, but there’s this barely contained joy to it, begging to be released. “think we should save him the trouble?” the playfulness in his voice tugs at the corner of your lips. when he sounds happy, you can’t help but feel that way.

“of?” you ask, thinking you know what he means, but wanting to be sure.

“of locking us in a closet. sounds like a bit of a hassle, if you ask me,” he smiles at you, and his words plus the sight of his dimples has got you grinning without restraint. you wonder again how long sam was awake, but completely without apprehension this time. all the two of you needed was a few playful words exchanged, and now you know. though you wouldn’t have without dean’s unwittingly overheard grumbles, so you supposed you will have to thank him after all.

“i don’t know,” you say with a false air of careful thinking, “seems like it could be fun, y’know? it’s been too long since we’ve played a good trick on dean, don’t you think?”

sam doesn’t have an answer for that because he’s been too busy staring at the way your lips move, still pulled into a smile as you talk. you take another good look at him and wonder, how in the world did i miss it? the way he looks at me?

if he doesn’t kiss you within three seconds flat, you’ll do it yourself. it takes him those three seconds exactly, and you move in such synch it’s possible that your lips meet right in the perfect middle of the barely-there space between you.

[mxltifxnd0m]

smother it ː s. winchester

summary: sam has to patch you up, but the problem lies within the fact the two of you despise each another

pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem! reader [can be read as gn/afab reader]

word count: 4.7K

warnings: 18+, no use of 'y/n', slight enemies to lovers, mentions of wounds and stitches, bickering, curse words, some smut [fem receiving oral], and fluff

a/n: first kinda smut for sam so PLEASE MINORS DNI!! for my sake and your own! I will be checking blogs who interact with this one-shot for minors and I will be blocking you if you do. i have SFW works for sam, so please go and check those ones out instead!

without further ado, please enjoy the oneshot and reblog and comment your thots 😏

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

From the moment you met Sam Winchester, he managed to get under your skin like no other.

You had met the Winchesters while hunting a siren, which, at the time, you didn't know what you were hunting. You were stumped with the evidence that you had found. But you had bumped into Dean while in the morgue, both posing as FBI agents and realizing that the other was a hunter soon after the coroner left the room. You had some idea who this hunter was, but when he finally dropped the FBI shtick and introduced himself as Dean Winchester, it confirmed your suspicions that you had when you asked Bobby for some help on this hunt and said he sent "one of the best" your way.

You were surprised at how well you got along with Dean, having heard some choice words that Bobby has described the Winchesters as a particular kind of character (his words, not yours). But you were not prepared to be met with hostility from the "infamous" Sam Winchester when Dean brought you back to their motel room.

Sam visibly bristled when you entered the room, which you chalked up as the fact that you were a stranger intruding in on a private space, which you wholly understood; you would have reacted in the same way. But when Dean clarified that you were the hunter they were sent to help with, Sam rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath.

You were a bit confused by the cold shoulder that Sam was giving you, and apparently so was Dean, having seen him give his brother a weird look after he interrupted you for the third time when trying to figure out what you guys were hunting. You bit your tongue each time he did, but the third time was enough, and you asked him what the hell his problem was with you. You genuinely wanted to know since you had been nothing but kind to him.

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's obviously a siren, but you wouldn't know that given that you're new at this." He said, completely disregarding your question, and he continued on with explaining his theory on what the monster the three of you were hunting was.

You stared at Sam, nostrils flared, and anger filled your veins at the fact he thought you were new at hunting. You were brought up to hunt from a very young age and had been for a very long time, so the fact that he thought you were an inexperienced hunter boiled your blood. You had heard about the Winchesters and their reputation growing up, knowing their prowess for hunting was high, but you never expected someone like Sam, who looked like a gentle giant at first glance, to be such a dick.

"Thank you for that boy genius. Do you ever actually get to kill the thing, or is your nose too busy to be stuck in a book and that's why you let your brother do the heavy lifting?" You retorted, looking at him with a cocked brow.

You saw Sam's jaw clench and eyes flash with irritation at your words. He went to respond, but Dean quickly intervened and tried to de-escalate the situation at hand. He practically sent you and Sam to timeout, having told you to go back to your room to cool off while he talked to Sam alone.

You pressed your lips together and tried not to stomp out of the room like a toddler having a tantrum. You left the room, slamming their door shut and went back to your room. You were muttering angrily to yourself as you walked back to your room. You can't believe that Sam had insulted your ability to hunt. He hadn't even seen you hunt before. You'd never expected Sam to be this much of an ass to you (you honestly thought it would be Dean to act this way from what you heard from Bobby).

Dean eventually came for you in your room and told you to come back. Once you were back in their room, Dean sat you down across Sam and lectured the two of you. He made you promise that you or Sam wouldn't take jabs at one another or try to provoke the other into an argument. So, like two disgruntled children, you both promised Dean that you guys wouldn't do any of that until after the hunt was over and you had killed the siren.

But once you killed that siren, you immediately left, not wanting to stay in the presence of Sam Winchester any longer than you had to. But as fate would have it, you guys would always seem to cross paths with you on hunts. Dean would always find you and invite you to hunt with them, and before you could even think about saying no, he'd pull a puppy dog look at you, and pout. Which, without fail, you would always say yes to.

Hunting with Sam was torture. He'd always nitpick the way you went about research and would take any chance to correct you about the lore behind particular creatures that you were hunting. Sam loved being insufferable toward you, and you could tell it brought him so much joy when you would have to storm away from him; otherwise, you would have broken his nose with a swift punch to his face.

You knew you hated Sam Winchester, and you knew for a fact that he had the same feelings toward you. You also despised the fact that you found him attractive. Sam was tall, almost too tall, had shaggy brown hair that he pulled off effortlessly, hazel eyes that seemed to be an endless pool of blues, greens, browns, and golds, and smug smirks he would send you when he was right about some obscure lore were deadly combinations for you.

You wished that you weren't drawn to him, but you saw the kind smiles and the soft eyes that never were directed at you, but he had when he talked to the victims on hunts. You even saw the dimples that he had when he'd smile at the stupid banter that he and Dean would have when the three of you were at a bar celebrating a job well done and Sam had loosened up with a couple of drinks in him.

"Stop squirming," Sam ordered you with a grumble, a frown on his face as he wiped the blood away from the gash on your back. His words brought you back to the present.

You glared at him through the mirror of the cramped motel bathroom the two of you were in. He took most of the space with his broad frame, standing behind you as your hands gripped the edge of the porcelain countertop, cleaning the wound you had gotten when the ghoul you were hunting threw you through a glass table and glass ended up cutting up your back. You would have cleaned it yourself, but it was in a spot where you needed to be a contortionist if you wanted to clean it yourself.

You would have asked Dean for help, but as soon as he cleaned up from the hunt, he left the motel to go to the nearest bar while you waited for Sam to be done with the shower. You wished you didn't have to share the room with the boys on this hunt, but when you arrived at the motel, there were no vacancies, so you had to bunk with the Winchesters.

You winced as Sam suddenly stuck the needle into your skin. The glass that sliced into your back was deep enough to where it needed stitches. You swore you saw something flicker in his eyes as his gaze looked up from your back, and you hissed slightly at the feeling before he focused on the task at hand. You were regretting ever saying yes to helping Dean.

"You need to be less reckless, I don't want to be the one patching you constantly." Sam mumbled as he threaded the needle through your skin.

You huffed angrily. "Yeah sure, next time I'll ask the ghoul to gently throw me through a glass table." You snapped at him.

You hissed through your teeth as you felt Sam tug on a stitch, making it tighter than it needed to be and sending a sting of pain through your back. You glared at him harder through the mirror as you saw the corner of his lip twitch significantly.

"Sorry, did that hurt?" He asked, his tone feigning innocence as he finished stitching up your wound. Sam tied off the stitch and sniped the thread, quickly grabbing some gauze and medical tape to cover your freshly sewn skin together. Once he was done, you grabbed the hem of the tank top you were wearing and pulled it down. Then, you reached for the first aid kit lying on top of the toilet seat.

"I can do the rest. You're released from your duties now." You tell Sam sarcastically as you eye the cut that was near your hairline.

As you were looking through the first aid kit to grab some ointment before you cleaned the cut, you felt Sam move out of the bathroom, the room feeling less suffocating as he did, but you didn't notice his eyes on you the entire time until he leaned against the doorway. Unfortunately for you, he stayed there with his gaze stuck on you.

You glanced to see his broad figure take up the entire doorway and scowled. "You can leave now, join your brother at the bar, I don't need your help anymore."

Sam didn't move an inch at your words. "Why do you hate me?" He asked instead of listening to you.

Your lips thinned into a straight line as you closed the first aid kid with more force than you intended, and a sharp laugh left your lips.

"Really? You're asking me this now? If anyone should be asking this question, it should be me."

You saw Sam shrugging out the corner of your eye. "Just curious, it's clear that you don't like me."

"That's rich coming from the man who has been nothing but hostile towards me the moment I set foot in the same room as him." You quickly tried to clean the cut on your forehead. Luckily, it wasn't as bad as it looked, and you swiftly cleaned it and placed a butterfly bandage on it.

"It's not like you were the most friendly either."

You turned to face Sam, a fiery look in your eyes. "Only because I tried to be nice to you, but you were nothing but a dick to me." You wanted nothing more but to slap Sam's stupidly handsome face.

Sam started to smirk, clearly enjoying getting you riled up. "Is that so?" He asked, tilting his head to the side. Sam's question felt demeaning.

"Oh for Christ's sake. I'm not doing this with you right now." You all but growled through gritted teeth. You pushed past Sam, hitting his shoulder hard as you made your way out of the bathroom and gathered your things. You've had it with Sam, and if he was going to play this game with you, you would just leave and never interact with the Winchesters again.

You tried putting on your jacket but cringed in pain when you felt your stitches pull, and a warm hand on your shoulder stopped you.

"You're gonna rip the stitches if you keep that up," Sam said in an uncharacteristically soft voice, which made you frown. You shrugged off his hand and turned around to see his eyebrows pinched. You hated that all you wanted to do was smooth out the wrinkles that formed in the middle.

You shook your head to get rid of that thought. "Oh, fuck off, Sam. Don't act like you care. If it wasn't for Dean being there, you would have probably left me there to bleed out."

Sam flinched at your harsh words, his face hardening before softening again as his hand twitched at his side like he wanted to reach out but fought against it.

"Look, I'm sorry for how I treated you." He licked his bottom lip. "I-you. I do care about you."

You looked at him with disbelief. "Really? Wow, could've fooled me." You sent him a sarcastic smile before turning back around, intending to leave the room. You couldn't care less about your stuff at the moment.

"Hey!" Sam called out for you and grabbed your arm to stop you from leaving. His grip on your arm was firm but not painful. You stopped in your tracks before closing your eyes and your tense shoulders relaxing at his touch.

"Sam." You intended for your voice to come out firm, but instead, it came out hoarse, almost tired.

Sam gently pulled you back towards him, and you let him turn you around so he could see him. Your eyes were still closed as you faced him, his grip on your arm slowly moving up and resting on your shoulder, his other hand moving to rest on your other shoulder.

You eventually opened your eyes to find Sam studying your face. His eyes were like a green haze. The warm lighting of the room made the flecks of brown and gold scattered throughout his eyes more prominent, threatening to take over the green.

Sam said your name softly as his thumbs started to swipe against your bare skin. "I do care about you, more than you know."

You scoffed. "Well, you have a shit way of showing it." His flawed logic was making the anger you felt earlier begin to rise again.

"I know, I know," Sam took a deep breath before speaking again. "When I saw you come into the room, you made me feel things I hadn't felt in a long time. So I thought if I was cold towards you, they would go away or at least hide what I actually felt toward you."

Irritation swelled in your chest.

"So, you decided to take the playground approach? Newsflash, Sam, you're an adult, and being a dick to someone won't make them like you. If you really wanted to make someone like you, you would be yourself or have the decency to be nice to them." You glared up at Sam as you ranted.

Sam smiled. That man started to smile, and it did nothing to quell the anger bubbling underneath your skin.

"What the hell are you smiling at Winchester?"

He shook his head, clearly trying to shove down his amusement. But his dimples threatened to appear as he cleared his throat and arranged his face into a more neutral expression before speaking.

"Look, I am sorry for how I treated you. I know we aren't kids, and I shouldn't have acted like a child toward you, but sometimes you make me feel like a stupid kid with a crush." Sam's hands squeezed your shoulders before they moved down your hands and held them.

You pursed your lips to bite back a smile that wanted to appear on your face. You felt your stomach flutter at Sam's admission as you looked down at your connected hands, his hands engulfing yours as his thumbs rubbed circles into the tops of them.

"You know, for someone so intelligent, you can be really dumb." You said as you inched closer to Sam.

Sam let out a chuckle at your words, a red hue on his cheeks growing as he smiled sheepishly down at you. You couldn't help but let a smile appear on your face at the sound of his amusement.

"Yeah, I know. I just really like you, and you make me feel stupid sometimes." Sam sighed as he stared down at you.

"Well, you're in luck because I seem to like your dumb ass too." You let go of one of his hands to cup his cheek.

Sam leaned into your touch. "Really?" His eyes lit up like he was a kid in a candy shop.

You rolled your eyes at the giant in front of you and pinched his cheek playfully. "No," You deadpan. "Although, your brother on the other hand…" You grinned sarcastically at him.

Sam took his turn to roll his eyes at you, and before you could tell him you were kidding, he let go of your hand, grabbed the nape of your neck, and pulled you into a passionate kiss.

You almost yelped into his mouth from how fast Sam moved. His other hand moved to your waist as your hand that wasn't cupping his cheek went to rest on his shoulder. Sam moved the two backward until he sat down on the edge of the bed, lifted you, and placed you on his lap.

Desire filled your veins as Sam's lips moved against yours fervently. A small moan fell from your lips as Sam nipped at your bottom lip and took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, groaning lowly when your tongue slid against his.

It was as if you were both finally on the same wavelength because, in moments, his tongue was already exploring the inside of your mouth. His hands slide down to your sides, where he caresses your body with both his hands. You both seemed to be completely lost in this kiss, as you both forgot about anything else around you, like time and space.

His lips eventually left yours, feeling out of breath as he dotted kisses across your jaw and down your neck. His hands moved to the hem of your tanktop and slid it up, slowly exposing more and more of your skin until it was entirely off, leaving you in your bra in front of him. Sam managed to rip his lips from your neck to drink in your body, his hazel eyes dark with desire.

"You're so beautiful." He breathed out as his hands moved up your back, almost covering the entire length of it from how big his hands were. Sam reaches for the clasp of your bra but stops when he brushes over the bandage on your back. Sam pulled back slightly, looking at you with a slight frown on his face.

You wanted to do nothing but kiss it away, so you did. Your lips touched Sam's softly as your hands reached for the hem of his shirt. He let you take it off of him, only breaking from the kiss to get it over his head.

You drank in Sam's bare torso. Taking in every inch of him. His tattoo stands out against his tanned skin, his muscles expanding and contracting as he breathes heavily. Sam was like a marble statue that came to life.

The motel room was silent, save for your and Sam's heavy breathing as you stared at each other. Sam's hand was still resting on the part of your back that was bandaged.

"You sure you're up for this right now?" Sam asked with concern, lacing his tone.

You smiled at him and nodded. "I might implode if you stop right now."

Sam laughed at your words, his dimples appearing as he smiled widely at you. "Oh, wow. Implode huh?" He raised his eyebrows in surprise as his smile turned into a flirty smirk.

You nodded, a serious expression on your face as you rested your forehead on his. "Yep, we wouldn't want that happening now would we?" A sultry smile on your face as you teased his lips with little pecks.

Sam's hands moved back to your waist and squeezed. "No we wouldn't." He answered before he caught your lips between his. Your hands moved from his bare shoulders to the nape of his neck, and you started to tug at the longer strands of hair, making him groan into the kiss.

Sam's hands moved up your back and unclasped your bra, almost tearing the straps off as he tugged them from your arms and threw the bra somewhere in the room. His lips left yours to trail down your neck and chest, and you leaned back, exposing your chest to him more. And you let out a soft moan, feeling him nip at your smooth skin and taking one of your nipples in his mouth, licking and sucking at it.

The hands that were wound in his head began to tug at his hair harder as he moved from one breast to the other. He let out a low growl against you, sending vibrations down your spine and into the heat that was pooling in your core.

One of Sam's hands moved down your body and to the front of your pants, and the button on your jeans popped open with a flick of his fingers. His hand slowly made its way past your underwear, and he pulled away from your chest with a groan when he felt how wet you were.

"This all for me?" Sam asked with a salacious grin on his face as two of his fingers swiped through your slit, coating his fingers and moving up to rub at your clit. You whimpered as you nodded, your hips rutting against his hand, and you could feel yourself getting wetter as he rubbed at your clit faster.

Sam abruptly stopped, pulled his hand away, and tugged at your pants urgently. You managed to get out of your pants and underwear with the help of his insistent hands, and once they were off, he grabbed your hips and fell backward on the bed, pulling you up until your naked core was level with his face.

"Sam!" You yelped, surprised at his strength and sudden manhandling.

"I don't want to hurt your back, but I really need to taste you," Sam said as he looked at your cunt hungrily.

"You sure?" You looked down at him hesitantly.

Sam's eyes softened as he looked up at you, his thumbs drawing circles on your thighs. "We can stop right here if you want."

You bit down on your bottom lip before shaking your head. "Just don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," He reassured you before smirking. "Besides, I wouldn't mind going out like this. 'S better than the alternative."

You laughed at Sam's words, putting you at ease, and you nodded at him to go ahead.

"I'll need words pretty girl." Sam squeezed your thighs.

You felt a heat bloom on your face and in your core at his words as you brushed back Sam's bangs from his forehead.

"Sam, please I need you." You all but whined.

"You have me." Sam said before pulling you on top of his face, burying his head between your thighs as his tongue began to lick and suck at your clit.

Moans began to escape your lips as your hips began to rut into his face, his tongue now lapping at your entrance as his nose nudged against your sensitive nub. You could feel the knot in your lower belly get tighter and tighter as Sam moved back to suck at your clit, and two of his fingers prodded at your entrance before slipping with little resistance. You felt so full with his fingers inside you. Sam's fingers quickly found your g-spot and began to rub at it, making you arch your back almost painfully at the intense pleasure Sam was giving you.

"Fuck! Sam I-I'm close."

At your words, Sam seemed to grow even hungrier for you to come. You tugged at his hair hard and rutted against his face faster before he sucked at your clit hard and pressed against your g-spot, making you fall over the edge as stars danced behind your eyes and you clenched around his fingers.

You could feel the vibration of Sam's low groan in your cunt as he tasted you, lapping at you until you were too sensitive. You climbed off of him with shakey legs and collapsed beside him; a layer of sweat coated the entirety of your naked body as you tried to catch your breath. Sam pressed soft kisses to your shoulder and collarbone as he waited for you to calm down.

Once you had calmed down, Sam caught your lips in a soft kiss.

"You okay?" He mumbled against your lips.

"More than." You smiled against his lips before you kissed him deeply. Sam slowly moved to hover over you. One of your hands moved from the bed to the waistband of the pants that Sam was wearing and inched downward until it cupped the bulge that was very prominent in his sweatpants.

Sam's groan was muffled by your lips, but before you could even think about taking off Sam's belt, the motel room door swung open and hit the wall with a slam. You and Sam quickly separated, and bless Sam, he pulled the covers over you to shield Dean's eyes from your naked form as he stood at the foot of the bed.

"Woah!" You heard Dean exclaim, and you looked over to see him walking back outside and closing the door.

"Finally! You could have cut the sexual tension between the two of you with a knife. But make sure to put a sock on the doorknob next time," Dean said through the closed door of the motel. You and Sam looked at each other, both of you flustered by the fact that Dean walked in on you guys.

"I'll be in the Impala tonight. Sammy, make sure you use protection!" He called through the door and promptly walked away from the door.

You stared at Sam before breaking out into a fit of laughter. Sam started to chuckle as he heard you laughing. A warmth bloomed in his chest when he saw your body shake. You laughed a bit too hard, and you felt a sharp pain come from your back. Sam saw you winced and walked over to you with worry in his eyes.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" His eyes flicked up and down your body quickly.

You shook your head, "No, just my back, I might have pulled a stitch or something."

"Let me check." Sam gestured for you to turn around.

You took off the covers and rolled onto your stomach to let Sam check your stitches. You felt him pull back the bandage before replacing it again.

"You didn't tear anything, but it's probably not a good idea to continue with what we were doing before Dean barged in."

You huffed a laugh as you turned back to face Sam. "You mean before you were about to fuck me?"

Sam flushed red at your words but threw his head back to laugh. The sound made you grin before you joined in; his giggles were infectious.

"Yeah, before that." He nodded and responded when he calmed down, the occasional chuckle escaping his lips.

You sighed dramatically. "If you insist." You knew it wasn't a good idea to have sex with him when your back was out of commission, but it didn't mean that you wanted to jump his bones; you really did.

Sam smiled before patting your thigh and getting up from the bed to grab the shirt he was wearing earlier that night and toss it to you. You caught it, and you couldn't help but smile as you put it on his shirt. You were engulfed by Sam's smell. The notes of citrus, mint, mahogany, and his musk made you melt inside.

The two of you got underneath the covers of the bed, and Sam was quick to tuck you into his side. You threw your leg over his hips as you used his bicep as a pillow. You let out a contented sigh as you settled in Sam's embrace.

Sam looked over at you, used his free hand to tilt your chin towards him, and kissed you gently. "Goodnight." He murmured against your lips.

"Night Sammy." You whispered before giving him one last lingering kiss and tucking your head in the crook of his neck. The events of the day hit you, and with the warmth of Sam's bare chest, the exhaustion consumed you. The last thing you could remember before you entered your dreamscape was Sam kissing your forehead softly before pulling you closer to him.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

༉‧₊˚. 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 || 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

― pairing: sam winchester x plus size!reader

― summary: sam winchester was never comfortable with pda, but while on a hunt, sam is shaken with the harsh reality that he's needy, and the only person that can fix it was you.

― warnings: kissing, making out, dry humping, marking, teasing, needy sam winchester.

― wc: 1288

⋆ a/n: more old writing sigh, but i guess i can say i kind of like this one but i kinda didn't know a lot about sam's character when i wrote this because i was only in the earlier seasons then, but now since i've watched the show three times, i feel like i can say that i know his character like the back of my hand!

masterlist | AO3

You had no idea what was up with Sam that day, but he couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself. He wasn't usually a PDA type of person, opting to keep the kisses pg, meaning only cheek, temple, or forehead kisses. You had no problem with it, because if he wasn't comfortable with doing it out in the open or if he was afraid it would make him look unprofessional, you had no reason to try and push him to do anything he didn't want to.

When the affection happened in private, it just made it all the more special, both of your senses heightened and a lot more pleasurable when you two made love.

You never usually joined the brothers on hunts per Sam's request, only staying behind in the hotel room to offer some emotional support afterwards; but this time, you felt like going on an adventure. Dean was more than happy to humor you, but Sam was a bit more skeptical. He knew that you were your own person, that he truly had no say over what you did, so all the hunter asked was for you to stay close to him; easy enough, right?

At first it was a little difficult seeing how there were many places you three had to go, and it was giving Sam some anxiety, not only that, but he was feeling a type of way that he couldn't put his finger on. He thought it may have been is psychic abilities, but one touch from you and his skin lit on fire, he instantly knew that he was horny. When he got into your shared hotel bed together, his crotch pressed into you full rump, it took every bone in his body to not jump you right then and there, to keep his wondering hands placed tightly in yours.

You could sense something was off with your lovely boyfriend when you had gotten into the Impala, and instead of Sam sitting up front with his brother, he chose to sit in the back with you, one hand on your thigh. You found it a bit strange, but nonetheless welcomed the out of the blue affection. But you didn't welcome it when all of you split to go investigate different parts of an abandoned house, Sam hot on your heels.

As you were turned around, you felt Sam wrap his arms around your waist, his head buried in between your shoulder and your neck.

"Sam?" You questioned, the energy detecting device in your hand slowly lowering. He dragged his large hand down your fluffy stomach, resting it over the zipper of your pants. "Sammy?" You asked again, but this time your voice was higher pitched. He always acted this way when he was needy, but it was never out in the open like this, not when somebody could easily walk in and see your compromising decision.

"I just— I just want you so bad. . . I don't—" Sam rambled, pulling down the zipper of your fly. "You couldn't wait to do this?" You breathed, your head slightly tipping back. "Why did you think I picked the farthest room in the house?" Of course he lead you hear with an ulterior motive, why wouldn't he? He was smart, strategical, and you'd be lying if you said that you were tempted to give in.

"Sam, we can't, I'm sorry." Your hands fell over his sneaky one's, pulling your zipper back up and placing his hands back on your waist. He audibly groaned when you turned around threw your arms around his neck. His pupils were blown out, his expression was that of a kicked puppy. "Baby, you know that I want this as much as you do, I always will, but not in public." You sighed, pushing some of his hair out of his face. "I know. . . Can I— can I just kiss you?" He asked, his hands sliding lower before resting on the swell of your ass.

"Dean's gonna be real mad that we haven't got anything," You teased running your fingers through his hair, but you showed no hostility as his lips ghosted over yours. "It'll only be for a couple of minutes. . ." He mumbled, pressing his lips onto yours. It felt so great to kiss you, like your touch was slowly extinguishing the fire that had been burning in his stomach for the past two days. He couldn't help that his palms gripped your ass aggressively, rubbing you crotches together. You moaned quietly into his mouth, Sam hiking up your thigh so that he could get a better angle. His growing erection was pressed against your heated cunt, the friction driving both of you nuts.

"You said only kissing. . ." You breathed against his lips, arousal becoming more prominent in your panties. He only groaned in reply, his head tipping back so that his neck was exposed to you. You attached your lips onto is most sensitive spot located just under his ear, Sam bucking his hips against you. You were muting yourself by making marks that wouldn't easily be seen, but Sam was forced to bite his lower lip to silence himself. The worst part about doing this in not only a potentially haunted house, was that it was extremely empty, sound basically bouncing off the walls. You knew Dean would never allow Sam to live this down if he were to catch the two of you.

The tingling sensation of an orgasm was barely in your grasp, but it was enough to detach yourself from his neck and collarbones, only placing a kiss there which your lipstick left a mark.

"Sam, ____?" Dean called out. "You guys got anything?" Your eyes widened as you pushed Sam off of you, giving him a look of apology. "Uhh— no, there's nothing here!" You shouted back, licking your sleeve and wiping the makeup off his lips. "Alright well I explored all of downstairs and most of the upstairs and I got nothin', so I think we're done here." His voice was a bit closer, but now by a lot. "Okay! So are we gonna go?" You asked, straightening up Sam as he stood there with a stupid smile on his face. "Yeah! I'm goin' to be in the Impala, so you guys better hurry up!" He concluded, his voice growing fainter as he walked back down the stairs."Sam," You growled, "I'm going to kill you." You glared, now wiping off your lips for any smeared product.

"I'm sorry honey, I got a bit carried away." He apologized, but he didn't even sound remotely sorry. You just scoffed, grabbing your things with the intention of leaving. "Sure." He only laughed, following close next to you. "Don't act like you didn't like it," He teased. You only rolled your eyes, but it provoked a small grin on your lips. "Well I hope this'll sedate you until we get back home." You poked, both of you now walking down the old stairs. "Maybe, but seeing how your butt is looking in those jeans, I may be tempted to do it again." You groaned, "I'm going with Dean next time."

As you guys were about to get into the car, your eyes landed on your lipstick mark that you had placed on the side of Sam's neck. You felt your stomach fall into your ass but it was already too late, Sam had gotten into the front seat of the car while you got into the back anxiously. You watched Dean look at Sam's neck before smirking wolfishly, making eye contact with you in the rearview window.

"Looks like you guys got a lot of things done." He said, his voice full of amusement.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy

[windchesterluver]

Playful tension

Summary: sam was your long time friend, but one playful afternoon makes you see him in a different light.

Word count: 1.1k

Notes: inspired by a character ai lol

Warnings: heavy flirting, s€xual tension (?)

You and Sam had been friends since you were kids and had been hunting together for years, but right now you were bored. Dean had gone out to dig up information leaving you and Sam cooped up in the bunker.

“Y/n…” Sam muttered not looking up from his laptop, “i can’t focus with you tapping” he stated blankly. You pouted and scooted your seat closer to him “Can you blame a girl?” you whined resting your head on your hands. He stopped typing to look up at you “No, but you being this close is distracting” you rolled your eyes, watching him dive back into his research. You took that as a challenge and you moved even closer, resting your chin on his shoulder “How about now?” You questioned with a smirk. Sam sighed but couldn’t hold back a chuckle “Very distracting” he said with an obvious hint of annoyance. He closed his laptop in defeat, about to give you the attention you were asking for.

“I win!” You said with a smirk “your gonna regret that” he told you as he placed a hand on the side of your head beginning to mess with your hair. “Alright enough!” You plead pulling back from him. “Nah” he smiled, bringing both hands to attack your hair. “Sam! I'm gonna do the same to you!” You shouted, stretching your arms out. “You're two feet too short for that,” he says standing up, his hair now out of your reach. “Oh really?” You remarked reaching up and forcing him to walk backwards until the back of his legs met the back of the couch.

You lunge at him causing the both of you to topple onto the couch with you on top of him. He let out an ‘oof’ and opened his eyes to you straddling his waist making him blush. “This isn't fair at all” he claimed “i had to be resourceful” you smiled grabbing a fist full of his hair. He let out a groan as you began roughly messing up his hair. “You look like a puppy!” You giggled to yourself. Sam grabbed ahold of your wrist “i do not.” He denied. ‘You're so cute’ you thought to yourself not realizing the words rolled off your tongue in a whisper.

“Did you just call me cute?” He asked even though he heard you clear as day, a smile forming at the corner of his lips. “What? No” you replied in shock pulling away from him. He huffed sitting up before quickly pulling you back down to his lap “Oh yes you did” he laughed. Your eyes widened “i don't know what you're talking about Sammy” you falsely claim leaning away from him, your face growing redder by the second. He gripped your arms bringing you closer with a playful grin spread across his face “Oh yes you do”.

Your demeanor switched and you breathed in sharply taken aback by Sam’s bold actions. He smirks noticing the change, leaning closer while holding you still. “You’re not getting out of this now” he teases. “Oh, am i?” Your question, putting up a tough front like his grip on you didn't have you completely flustered. It didn't work, he could feel your breath on him and see the red tinge covering your cheeks. “You're blushing so hard and trying to act like i can't see it” he chuckled.

“Your acting like your any less red” you confronted. He furrowed his brows “thats not fair” he said getting defensive over his own complexion. You rolled your eyes, he responded in protest by pulling you closer. Your chest now pressed against his, causing you to whine “sam..”. “Yes?” He replies, His hot breath against your ear. You sit in his lap unable to utter a word, “cat got your tongue?” You could feel his chest vibrating while he chuckled. He pulled back looking over your face, but your gaze fell on bis lips. “My eyes are up here” he said lowering his gaze to meet yours. “What?” You questioned breaking from your trance “you were staring at my lips” he explained softly “only because theyre so chapped” you tried to sound annoyed.

“Keep acting like i can't feel your heart beating against me” he smiled. “Shut up” you mumbled looking away from him, “no, look at me” he commanded using his thumb to tilt your chin back at him. It took everything in you to resist leaning into him as he glanced over your lips. He was giving into his urges, his face slowly getting closer to yours. He felt you squirm and his hands come down from your waist to softly caress your thighs. You close your eyes “Sam, we shouldn’t” you try your convince yourself. “Why not?” He asks softly, his brown eyes meeting yours.

There was no denying your feeling, you could feel your whole body relax when staring into his eyes and unconsciously started leaning into him. In one swift movement, he closed the gap between you. Pressing his lips into yours. The kiss was softer than you could’ve imagined, you let yourself linger, trailing your hands up his chest. Sam was melting, surprised at the warmth of your lips against his. His hands moved to your back allowing him to deepen the kiss, craving the feeling of your lips moving under his.

The sound of keys jingling made you both jump up from the couch. “Hi, Dean!” You call out trying to distract from Sam nervously fixing his hair. “Hey guys…” Dean was immediately put off by both of your rigid postures. Sam whipped the shared saliva from his mouth. awkward silence was suffocating the bunker “Well, I'm gonna head to bed…you know, let you two debrief” you gulped, trying your best to act normal. “Good night Sam” your hand traced down his arm before leaving the room. Sam eyed your figure until you were out of sight.

Dean raised his brows, “what the hell was that?” He asked sternly pointing in your direction. “Hu, what?” Sam broke from the trance you left him in. Dean's hand fell to his side with a loud sigh, “i need a beer”

[mrs-padalecki2341]

Princess (Sam x Reader)

Warnings/Promises: Sam gets jealous, smut, nickname, unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it), I think that's it but lmk

~~~

You strutted over to the bar in your heels and sat down next to the demon you were hunting. The plan was for you to flirt with the demon, get him to let his guard down, and lure him outside, then Sam and Dean would sneak up behind you and kill the demon. Sam, being the overprotective boyfriend he is, didn't like the plan at all, but this demon was stronger than the average demon so the element of surprise was your best chance.

"Hiya~" you smirk at the demon. He turns on his stool to face you.

"Oh, why hello there gorgeous~ What's your name?~" he leaned on the bar and waved to the bartender for another drink.

"I'm Y/n" you responded, sipping your own drink. You saw Sam shift uncomfortably in the corner of your eye, still watching you like a hawk.

"A pretty name to match a pretty face," he says with a smile. "I'm Zander." He moves his hand to touch yours and you see Sam move to come interfere, followed by Dean grabbing his wrist and holding him back.

You let him touch your hand, but when he moves it to try to hold it, you pull away, stirring your drink as an excuse of why you moved.

You kept talking for another minute or two, when he moved his hand to rest on your thigh. You scooted away and looked over to the boys. Dean was practically pinning Sam in his chair, trying to keep him from messing up the plan.

"What's wrong, princess?" Zander asked when you moved away.

As soon as the word left his mouth, Sam threw Dean off of him and stormed over with a deadly stare in his eyes.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled, but there was no stopping him.

He turned Zander on his seat and jerked him up by his shirt collar to meet his gaze.

"Only I can call her that." Sam snapped through clenched teeth before using his free hand to jab the demon knife through Zander's throat.

"Sammy, what the hell?!?" You scold him.

"Holy shit," you both look to see the bartender staring in shock. "What is wrong with you?? Get the hell out of my bar before I call the cops."

And with that, you were all in the impala driving back to the bunker.

Dean looked pissed.

"Dean, I-" Sam started.

"Save it." Yep, definitely pissed.

~~~

You pulled up to the bunker after what felt like an eternity-long car ride in complete silence. With the slam of car doors, you all exited Baby and headed inside.

Dean stormed off to his room, and the second he was gone, Sam's lips were pressed firmly against yours, aggressively claiming your mouth with his.

"Mine." He mumbled against your lips.

The two of you made your way back to Sam's room, stopping outside the door. He pressed you against the door, once again finding your lips, before opening it and stepping in, with you right behind him.

You were both already breathing heavily and you could feel the desire pooling in your stomach.

He quickly got to work at undressing himself and you did the same until you were both fully naked.

With one look at you, standing there, bare before him, Sam was all over you.

Sam planted desperate kisses all over your neck as his rough hands roamed your bare figure.

He slid his hands down your back to your thighs, then back up again to cup your ass.

He lifted you with ease and walked over to the bed, laying you down on top of the covers.

You smiled up at him as he moved on top of you, pressing his chest against your breasts and leaning down to connect lips with you.

The kiss was warm and passionate, and hot and needy all at the same time. His lips moved against yours as he smiled into the kiss. You felt his hand envelop your breast and his fingers toyed with your nipple. He gave it a sudden pinch, earning a shocked moan from you, and instantly he seized the opportunity to slide his tongue between your lips and explore your mouth, as if it was planned.

He suddenly broke the kiss and lifted himself up enough to line up with your wet entrance.

He wasted no time with easing into you and instantly began pounding into you at a fast pace.

The sex between you and Sam was usually pretty rough, so you didn't mind, bucking your hips up to meet his as he moved his hard cock in and out of your heated core.

Your voice rises in your throat and leaves your mouth in breathy moans as Sam's hand massages your breasts and his cock massages your aching core.

"Mm, fuck yeah, you feel so good baby." Sam says through groans of pleasure.

He stopped and pulled out for a moment, leaving you empty as your nearing orgasm faded back away.

You opened your mouth to complain when he grabbed you by the hips, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

He lined his cock back up with your opening, running it against your folds a few times to tease you before pushing back into you.

At the new angle you were in, he was able to slam into you harder and faster, bottoming out with each thrust inward.

With the new, faster rhythm you felt yourself building back up towards your orgasm in no time.

Each time he pushed into you it was like another step was placed down as you built a stairway to heaven.

You lifted your leg to bring it to your chest, giving him better access as both of you panted heavily.

"Mm, fuck, you're so beautiful," Sam hummed as he pushed himself deeper inside of you, his cock throbbing as he struggled to hold back.

"Shit, Sam I'm close," you moaned out as your hands gripped at the sheets.

"Me too. Cum with me, princess~" he reached one of his hands down to toy at your clit, causing just enough stimulation to push you over the edge.

You clenched down around him and came on his cock, setting off his orgasm.

"Fu-uh-uh-uck, Y/n-" He called out as he threw his head back and his hot cum poured into you, mixing with yours.

With one final rock of his hips, Sam pulled out his worn-out cock and smiled down at you, before flopping down next to you with a content sigh.

"I love you, princess," he whispered in your ear before turning you to look at him and placing a soft kiss on your lips.

-SP<3

[sylvia-plaths-fig-pie]

The night we met ♡ Sam Winchester

As a young girl it was drilled into you to never be alone in the woods.

As a woman the same sentiment was echoed.

But as a hunter, you found that that warning couldn't be one that you listened to. For the sole reason of what if there was a young girl or a woman in the woods at the mercy of the very things that you were trained to hunt. Trained to kill.

You'd been a hunter for as long as you could remember, grew up on the road with your mother. Never went to a real school or met anyone your age. It was just the two of you.

Untill it wasn't.

One particularly bad hunt with a nest of vamps left you to mourn the loss of your mother, and you were alone.

And that's how you stayed.

That's how you liked it.

Sure you came into contact with men, it was always men, who thought they knew more or were better than you. But you were still standing, and they, well they were not.

Life expectancy wasn't particularly high in your line of work, it would be a miracle of you made it to your 30th birthday. It seemed that hunters either died young or seemed to live forever. You didn't know what was worse.

That being said, the earlier option seemed very likely right about now.

You were alone in the woods, in a deep fog, after killing three vamps.

It was dark and there was probably other creatures lurking in the shadows, knowing your luck there would be a vamp nest right around the corner.

What made matters worse is that the exit wasn't exactly clear. You'd lost your map, couldn't hear a road, and (rather inconveniently) there was no sighn posts anywhere.

All you could do is walk in a straight line and hope that you were going in the right direction.

Hope.

You knew the irony.

Hope wasn't worth much. Hope was a damn sure way to get yourself killed. Hope was for young girls who wished on stars, but after learning the myths behind them you had lost faith even in the night sky.

Hope wasn't somthing you would bet your life on, yet you had no choice. It was better than a prayer you supposed.

Suddenly you became aware that your footsteps weren't the only noise in the darkness. There were voices.

Two distinct low voices. Voices of men. Why was it always men?

Familiar warnings rang through your head. You knew it wasn't just monesters you were to be afraid of, sometimes there are more sinister things that lurked in the darkness. Sometimes death wasn't the worst fait to face.

Your hand griped tighter around your knife, your free hand rested on top of your gun.

The voices stopped after a rush of feverish whispers.

You were going to do something stupid.

"Who's there?" You shouted, trying to sound as stoic as possible. If they didn't know you were there they sure did now, along with anything else lurking in the shadows. It really was a stupid decision, but making stupid decisions was part of the job description and it had gotten you this far, or at least you were still alive to tell the tale.

"I'm armed and you've lost the element of surprise so why don't you do us both a favour and stop hiding!" You shouted once more, slightly more urgently this time, even you could hear the slight panic in your own voice.

A tall figure emerged from the shadowy fog, arms raised in surrender. He was tall, almost abnormally so. 'Go for the legs if necessary' you mentally told yourself, just incase he want so friendly. He took slow, purposeful steps towards you in an attempt not to frighten you, you appreciated the gesture but it did nothing to settle your concern.

As he drew closer you could look him in the eyes. And that's exactly what you did. His eyes were Hazel, almost green with a touch of gold with a sense of softness and sensitivity about them. It felt like you were reading a book, being continually drawn in till you don't even rember who you were before you picked it up. Looking at him gave you a sense of comfort you hadn't expericed before on the road. It was nice. It was terrifying.

You cursed yourself for staring too long.

"Who are you?" You questioned, bringing the tip of your knife to rest against the base of his neck, the blood from the vamps, which still coated the blade, sticking slightly to his neck. He stopped in his tracks, his arms still up in surrender.

He looked unfazed, he looked as though he understood.

"My name is Sam winchester and I'm a-" he began but you cut him off, realisation hitting you.

"Winchester? Where's your brother?" You asked lowering your knife. You knew they hunted together, and you didn't want to be ambushed unwittingly my the other.

"Hi sweetheart." Another figure said as he sauntered out of the thick trees.

You rolled your eyes at his remark, making a menal note to stay clear of him if your able to.

You could tell that the one that approached you was the younger of the two, Sam as he introduced himself, the boy with deamon blood, or at least he was.

Meaning that the older of the two, and shorter, was Dean who, unsurprisingly, greeted you slightly condescendingly.

You turned your attention back to the brunette just as he began to speak.

"Wait how do you-?" He asked suddenly, slightly confused but also a hit of relief in his voice.

"Bobby is aways talking about you boys, I mean every hunter knows about you and your serious fuck ups, but Bobby keeps saying I should catch you boys and work with you or whatever but-" you rambled on before the younger winchester cut you off.

"You know Bobby?"

"Everyone knows Bobby."

"Wait so you must be-"

He was about to say your name before, who you assumed to be Dean, cut him off.

"Yes yes nice to meet you and whatever but Sammy and I have more pressing issues to attend to." He said with a wave of his hand ushering his brother over. Only Sam didn't move. His eyes were still fixed on yours. Your eyes still on him.

"I killed the three vamps if that's what you're doing out here." You commented, directing your answer to Sam.

He furrowed his brown in confusion.

"Three?" He asked, slightly taken aback.

"Yeah?" You responded, worry consuming you. You didn't miss one did you? You didn't make a mistake, did you? Everything was so matriciously planned out surely you couldn't have-

"We thought it was just a brother and a sister." Sam interrupted your thoughts, placing a strong hand on your shoulder. He clearly read the panic on your face, it was like he'd known you your whole life. His hand on you seemed to ground you, help you think, but it made you feel almost dizzy. It was an unfamiliar feeling, a feeling you weren't sure if you liked it or not. Regardless of the fact you relished in his touch as you composed yourself enough to explain what you knew.

"No they were hunting with their father, it seemed like this town was their first solo hunts, but it all lead back to him."

Sam finally turned away, his hand falling from your shoulder to look at Dean, in response he simply nodded his head to the side. There was some sort of unspoken communication between the two.

You felt left out. You longed to know what they were thinking. You specifically longed to know what the taller of the two was thinking.

"You're sure there's no more?" Sam asked as he turned to face you once more.

"I know that there are no more that are killing people in this area, that's good enough for me."

He just nodded in response.

"Well I guess that means we're done here," Dean commented clapping his hands together, "you crazy kids what to get out of here, maybe get some pie-"

"Shut up." You cut him off. It wasn't beacsue you were opposed to getting out of the woods, quite the opposite. But you heard something or at least thought you did.

"Sweetheart, I can tell you like my brother here more than me but there is no need to be-"

"Be quiet." You cut Dean off once more as you strained your ears again, you heard another rustling sound coming from near by. You gripped your knife tighter, your thumb drawing small circles on the hilt.

Turning in the spot to get a better gauge of your surroundings you clocked both of the winchesters expressions, they heard it aswell.

"You said it was a father and his two kids right?" Sam asked poised, now holding a large knife of his own.

"Yeah," you responded in a hushed whisper.

"Any sign of a mother?" He asked hurriedly, voicing the one thing you hoped not to be true.

Shit.

You hoped you would stumble onto another hunter, but you knew this time you wouldn't be so lucky. It had to be the mother and you cursed yourself for mot even considering her.

"Sam-" you began but were quickly cut off by a figure charging from the shadows.

She was fast, but worst of all she was smart. Thats probably why none of you picked up on her.

She launched herself at you first, the well known glint of vengeance alight in her eyes. "You killed them you bitch, you killed them all!" She sceamed in your face as you tried to bring your knife up to decapitate her.

But she was fast and her clawed hand dug into the wrist where your knife was Sam and Dean rushed to your side but they were quickly pushed away, falling on the ground too far away to reach you.

"Was this the blade that killed them?" She asked as you struggled against her, "didn't even have the decency to kill me aswell?"

Blood was gushing from your wrist from her claws as she twisted your own blade towards your chest.

From the corner of your eye you could see Sam pushing himself off the floor, disappearing into the fog.

Logically he was leaving you. He didn't know you. It was in his best intrest to get his brother and go, regroup and hunt tomorrow. You know logically that's what he was doing.

But something inside you told you otherwise. Something in your head was telling you that he was coming for you. That he would save you. That you just needed to stay alive for a few more moments.

It was more than hope that you had. You knew Sam was still there. You knew he wouldn't leave you.

You could feel your knife pressing against your rib cage, you were no where near as strong as her, you tried pushing back with all your might but it was no use.

You felt the blade as it began to draw blood. You felt the pain of the rapidly growing wound. You felt yourself slowing begin to loose grip on the world around you.

"Oh I am going to enjoy watching you die." The vamp said, her words venomous against your ear.

"Not as much as I'll enjoy this." As voice said from behind the vamp.

It was Sam.

Her was there, knife above his head as he swung it round.

The vamp was quick, but she wasn't quick enough to avoid the blow of Sam's knife as he swung it and swiftly decapitated her.

Blood splattered on you as you let out a sigh of relief. Sam was here.

Sam saved you.

Sam winchester saved your life.

You wanted to run to him but the corners of your vision blured. You were dizzy. You couldn't see. You couldn't stand.

"Sam..." you managed to whisper as the world fell from beneath your feet.

You felt two strong hands wrap around you and lower you slowly to the floor. Your head rested against something sturdy, something warm.

"Hey look at me I'm here," a voice said, it was muffled, distant almost.

"You need to just hang on for me, keep your eyes open okay?" The voice asked of you and you nodded or it at least felt like you did. Your vision was blurry but your eyes were open.

"Dean hurry!" Sam shouted, panicked. Sam was holding you. Your head was against Sam's chest and you were resting in his arms.

You tried to sit up but a sharp pain shot throught you. "Shit." You mumbled, you looked down and saw the knife still in you. It was deeper that what you first thought, but it can't have been that bad you could breathe fine, it missed your lung. You were fine, right?

"Sam?" It came out as more of a question, you didn't want to admit it but you were scared.

This is how your mother died in your arms, did she feel like this too? Was she scared? Did she know she was going to die, or did she foolishly think she would live?

"Hey, hey," Sam stroked your hair soothingly, "I'm right here love, I'm not going anywhere okay?" His touched seemed to ground you, soothe you.

"Dean is coming back with medical supply's, your going to be okay."

"Okay." You replied, all you could do was look at Sam. Even when he was blurry he was beautiful. Even when it felt like the world was going dark his eyes were bright as ever.

Thoes were the last things you rember seeing before the world went black, and you finally understood why so many people warned you not go out in the woods alone.

♡♡♡

Anybody want a part 2?

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Emotions | Sam Winchester x Angel!Fem!Reader

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Angel!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5521

Warnings: mentions of drug addiction, mentions of smut (MDNI this is an 18+ blog), mentions of iffy family dynamics

A/N: For this nonnie! I have a very deep love of music and a special connection with it, and pretty much all of my one-shot fics are gonna be titled after songs. If you'd like to connect with the music as well, here's a few songs I recommend reading while you listen to the chapter!

Emotions by Brenda Lee

In the Still of the Night by the Five Satins

Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene by Hozier

Snow Angel by Renee Rapp

Queue up on Spotify or your preferred streaming service, and happy reading!

General Writings Masterlist

Humans were curious. The more time you spent with them, the more you couldn’t understand why your father loved them so much. However, one human was beginning to pique your interest. His name was Sam Winchester. 

Your brother Castiel had been charged with rescuing Sam’s brother, Dean, from Hell. However, Zachariah had not given the word to begin the mission just yet. You, though, were charged with the care of Sam Winchester. 

He became interesting for a number of reasons. The Winchester boys had been of special interest to all of Heaven since their mother died in Azazel’s attack. You’d known of his existence and watched from afar as the sweet, intelligent young man became a cold shell of who he once was while his brother suffered in Hell. The demon Ruby— who you would be sure to kill as soon as you could get your hands on her— had been getting Sam addicted to the potent substance that was demon’s blood. If you had to compare it to a human drug, you’d heard many angels say it felt like a heroin addiction. 

Despite your disinterest in most of humanity, you were more compassionate toward them than most of your brothers and sisters. While some, like Uriel, were ruthless in their method to get humans on their side, you always took a more “humane” approach. No matter how many times humanity had broken your heart through their horrible mistakes leading to death and destruction, you still tried to show each human compassion. 

You watched from afar as Sam began to learn to exorcize demons with his mind. The experience was undoubtedly painful, and your anger with Ruby grew with each passing day. Always keeping your distance, though, because you knew now was not the right time to step in. Zachariah would give you the word when it was. 

You followed Sam down a darkened, busy street, keeping just far enough back that he wouldn’t be able to see you. He turned the corner onto what you assumed was another street, and you foolishly followed. Suddenly, you were pinned to the wall with a demon’s knife at your throat and an angry Sam staring down at you. 

“Who the hell are you?” the man spat, pressing the tip of the weapon into your throat forcefully. “Why are you following me?”

“Hello, Sam,” you said calmly. “My name is (Y/N). I’m here to help you.”

He scoffed. “What? Another demon coming to peddle your wares? I don’t think so.” The brunet stepped away from you and tried to exorcize you with his powers. 

You just remained still, large doe-eyes looking at him with a small smile playing on your lips. 

Sam then appeared scared. “What— What are you?”

“I’m an angel,” you replied evenly.

He laughed. “Right. C’mon, what are you really?”

You unfurled your large, beautiful wings and called upon a clap of thunder to ensure the shadow would be cast on the wall behind you. “I told you. I’m an angel.”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t believe this.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked. “Why are you angry?”

He spun around to face you. “Why am I angry? My brother’s been dragged to Hell, and you’re asking me why I’m angry?”

You continued to look at him in confusion. 

“I prayed. Every day for the last year Dean was alive. Why didn’t one of you answer?” he finished.

“It wasn’t the right time,” you explained. “Father wouldn’t allow us.”

“Well, fuck all of you guys, then,” Sam spat.

You were intrigued and confused by his intense anger. “Your prayers are being answered now. Isn’t that all that matters?”

“Too little, too late,” he replied. “Now, leave me alone.”

You stared after him as he walked away. Didn’t he want your help? Why was he angry at you when you were simply obeying your father? His prayers were being answered, and he was cruel to you.

That should have enraged you. However, it only intrigued you even more.

***

You knew Sam had not told Ruby he’d seen you, which surprised you. Everything about this man was surprising you.

While his addiction to demon blood was horrific and disgusting to you, you were surprised how much… empathy, you believed the feeling was— you were starting to feel for him. He’d undoubtedly been manipulated by the demon into that state of being.

His incredible strength both physically and mentally was impressive. While he wouldn’t last a moment in a fight with you or any of your brothers and sisters, he was skilled in many different athletic pursuits. His interest in different philosophies was curious to you as well; most humans you'd come across were set in their ways with no interest in different points of view.

After your last conversation with him, you decided not to intervene unless he desperately needed you. And now, he desperately needed you.

Ruby had either knowingly or unknowingly sent him into a death trap. While Ruby conveyed she believed only two demons to be hiding in a warehouse, an entire lair of at least thirty laid in wait for the young man. You knew you’d have to get involved this time, no matter if Zachariah approved or not.

You watched from the skylights of the darkened warehouse as Sam crept around with Ruby following closely behind. Your father willing, you’d slit her throat with her own knife.

You could see the other demons beginning to creep in around Ruby and Sam. Sam was the first to notice something was wrong and spun around to face the demons behind Ruby.

You used your powers to appear behind a wire rack covered with boxes to have the element of surprise with the demons.

“Hey there, handsome,” one of the demons was telling Sam.

Another snarled, “And Ruby. I thought Lilith got rid of you.”

“Apparently, she didn’t do a very good job,” replied Ruby.

The demons had Sam and Ruby back to back as they closed in their circle around the two.

Taking out your blade, you stepped out into the dim light, heels clicking across the floor. All of the demons turned around to face you, as did Sam and Ruby.

“Wow, Ruby. Seriously? You’re working with an angel?” a demon snickered.

You didn’t allow any of the demons a chance to get another word in. You appeared behind the demon who had the nerve to speak up and plunged your blade through its vessel’s back.

A few of the demons tried to escape by fleeing their bodies, but you forced them back in. While you were compassionate, merciful would not be a word used to describe you. When you were crossed, you didn’t play nicely. 

A few demons tried to charge you, and you immediately reached out to two, grabbed their hands, and killed them while you used your free arm to plunge your blade through the other’s chest. With, in all honesty, very little effort, you managed to make your way through most of the demons. With the mess of dead bodies sprawled across the concrete floor, it made it easier to see what was left for you to deal with. That was when you noticed Ruby was gone, but Sam was still there, fighting demons with his demon knife. 

A demon behind Sam was preparing to stab him in the back, but you threw your angel blade through the demon’s throat just in time to save Sam. 

Slowly but surely, you made your way through the remaining demons. Sam panted from exhaustion and the few wounds he’d sustained but still stood with his shoulders squared. “I didn’t need saving,” he huffed.

“I don’t mean to offend you, but yes, you did,” you replied evenly. “I will admit, I’m disappointed your demon friend left so soon. I was looking forward to formally introducing myself.” 

Sam laughed, somewhere between mocking and a genuine laugh. “You were gonna kill her, weren’t you?”

“Without hesitation,” you nodded. “I know what she’s been doing, Sam. I know what you’ve been doing.” 

“I really don’t think that’s any of your business,” he said, his voice cold. 

“It is my business.”

“How?”

“Angels are only sent to earth for their missions; unless they’ve fallen,” you explained. “Like I told you before, you’re my mission.”

“And like I told you,” he sneered, “not interested.”

“I don’t understand,” you stated. “Isn’t this what you wanted? I’m answering your prayer. I thought you’d be happy.” 

“I told you; too little, too late—!”

“I’m not talking about the prayers for your brother anymore, Sam,” you cut him off. “I’m talking about your prayers for yourself.”

That seemed to quiet him down.

“I heard you. The first night you drank demon’s blood, you prayed. That was when I was assigned to you,” you told him. “Some of the angels believed you were too far gone. I, however, was the one to ask my superior if I could help you.” 

Tears welled in Sam’s eyes. “Why would you do that? Why wouldn’t you save Dean?” 

“I wanted to,” you admitted, not quite understanding why you were spilling your secrets to a human.

He got angry again. “Why didn't you?!”

You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing. “It is not my place to question my superiors. I serve Heaven first; not you.”

“Well, find some other way to serve Heaven. I’m not interested,” he grumbled, turning away. You noticed how painfully he rolled his shoulder.

“I can fix that for you,” you said, stopping him in his tracks. 

“What?” Sam turned back around.

“Your arm.” You nodded in its direction. “And those gashes. They look like they’ll get infected if you don’t let me help you.” You stepped toward him, and he remained still.

His impressive stature was incredibly intimidating to you despite your angelic status. You had never felt such a feeling; only when you were in the presence of the archangels. Whatever this feeling was, you didn’t think you liked it.

“May I?” you asked, hesitantly reaching your fingers out toward his arm. 

Sam nodded, face drawn into hard lines.

You closed your eyes as you touched his shoulder to concentrate on sending your healing powers through his body. You didn’t miss the way his muscles tensed momentarily before relaxing under your touch. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

You nodded. 

Sam hesitated for a moment before asking, “ What’d you say your name was?”

“(Y/N),” you responded.

***

You watched through the window of the cabin he was hiding in as Sam fought with Ruby over you. You expected Ruby to be angry, but you didn’t expect Sam to defend you. 

“She’s an angel, Ruby, she’s not here to hurt me,” Sam said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“You don’t know angels, Sam. I do. They’re not the peaceful hippies the Bible makes them out to be,” Ruby snapped. “If she knew I was helping you, she’d probably smite me.”

“She does know,” Sam replied, almost too quietly for even your enhanced hearing. 

“What?! You told her?!”

“No, I didn’t, I—” Sam cut himself off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “She just knew, somehow.” 

Ruby clearly didn’t believe him. “Somehow,” she scoffed. “And somehow, I don’t believe you.”

“Whatever,” Sam huffed. He suddenly caught your eye in the window but covered it up by quickly looking back to Ruby. “I think you should go.”

She crossed her arms. “Seriously?” The demon rolled her eyes and began to walk toward the door. “Goodbye, Sam.”

You invited yourself into the room. “Is she gone?” you asked Sam, appearing in front of him.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, she’s gone.”

“Your motivations confuse me, Sam Winchester,” you stated bluntly.

He seemed to chuckle genuinely. “Why?”

“Do you not believe Ruby to be helping you? It seemed you couldn’t stand the sight of me less than twenty-four hours ago. Why would you kick her out after all that and cover for me?” you asked, head tilting in confusion.

You knew you weren’t supposed to question. You knew Sam was simply an assignment; there should be no desire for further questions exchanged. However, a nagging force in the back of your mind refused to let those questions remain internal.

“I don’t know,” he responded, seemingly earnest. 

Suddenly, a song began to play in the background. Your head turned to the source of the sound; a peculiar little box with a spinning disc on top of it. You swayed to the soft music emanating from it. “What is this?” you asked.

“Music,” Sam replied from behind you.

You turned to face him. “I know what music is, Sam. What is the little box?”

“A record player,” he replied, much closer to you than he had been when you first turned to the sound of the music.

“And what is this song?” you asked, dewey eyes shining in the dim light.

“Uh, one of the records they had in this old cabin. I think the band’s The Five Satins. ‘In the Still of the Night’,” he explained.

“I think I like this song,” you said, your voice taking on a peculiar lilt you’d never heard yourself speak with before. You suddenly realized how close Sam was to you and backed away. “Well, if you need anything,” you began, “I am never far from you.” And with that, you were gone.

***

“(Y/N)?” you heard Sam praying. “(Y/N), uh, I don’t know if you’re listening—”

With a quick flap of your wings, you appeared in front of Sam in his cabin. “I am,” you replied. 

“Oh, hey,” he snorted. He sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his hands together and staring at the floor.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

“I don’t know what the right thing to do anymore is,” he admitted. Sam was suddenly embarrassed by what he’d said. “Uh, I don’t know why I said that…”

“Do not be embarrassed. I do not pass judgment on humans for their feelings,” you replied. 

That pulled a small smile from him. “Do you guys… not have feelings?”

“No,” you replied. “At least, I don’t think we do. Or, perhaps, what we experience as angels is too complex to be simplified into human emotion.”

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

“I believe I may experience compassion, but I am not merciful. Those two traits I have seen go together in human manifestations. My loyalty to my father is incomparable to any human form of loyalty. Most humans I have come across sacrifice their loyalties quite easily,” you explained thoughtfully. 

“And by your father, you mean, God?” he asked. 

You nodded. 

Sam hesitated before asking his next question. “What’s he like?”

His question caught you off-guard; it wasn’t something you’d thought about before. “Well, humans describe him as—”

Sam shook his head. “I know what people make him out to be. What do you say?”

That question startled you even more, and all you could answer with was the truth. “I haven’t met him.”

Now, it was Sam’s turn to be caught off-guard. “Really?”

You nodded. “I’ve been around just about as long as the planet, and I’ve never met him once.”

Sam considered for a moment. “And you’re still loyal to him?”

“Well, I don’t necessarily have a choice in that matter,” you replied. “I am an angel. I was created for the purpose of my loyalty to my father and carrying out his missions.” His questions were beginning to get under your skin, and you’d never thought so long about those things before. 

“Well, how do you know your orders come from him if you’ve never met the guy?” Sam continued to press. “How do you know somebody’s not lying to—”

“My brothers and sisters would never lie to me,” you cut him off. Perhaps this is what “offense” felt like? “I don’t believe lying to be something we are capable of.”

Sam took a deep breath and flexed his eyebrows. “Whoa, didn’t mean to strike a nerve, there.”

He did. “You didn’t,” you responded. 

A spell of silence was cast over you. 

“What’s it like?” Sam asked. 

You tilted your head in confusion. 

“That blind faith,” he embellished. “How do you do it?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know. I just always have. I am a Seraph; I believe ‘blind faith’ is my purpose.”

“Oh, seraphim’s a real thing? Are you guys the, uh, high-rankers?”

You nodded. “I don’t think of myself in terms of my rank, but I am superior to those in my garrison. My superior is Zachariah; the only one of us in direct communication with the archangels.” You felt yourself snap out of it. “I… don’t know why I told you that.”

“Well, I guess we’re even then,” Sam smiled. 

***

You began to see less and less of Ruby as days went by, and for that, you were grateful. It seemed she was only around for Sam to feed from her.

“What does she say the demon blood will do for you?” you asked Sam, sitting beside him on the edge of the cabin’s roof.

Sam gave you a curious look but answered your question anyway. “It’ll make me strong enough to kill Lilith.”

“And… why do you want to do that?” you asked trepidatiously. 

He answered your question quite blankly, staring ahead. “Revenge. For my brother.”

You nodded. “And what do you believe getting revenge will do for you?”

That seemed to challenge him. “I don’t know.”

“I have been with you since you were young, Sam. I watched you go off to college, I watched Azazel kill Jessica, and I watched every fight between you and your father.”

Sam turned his head toward you as you talked, a pensive look on his face. 

“And I think I decided that all of those fights between you two happened because of how similar the two of you are.” You turned your head toward him, the sunset casting a heavenly glow across Sam’s face. “This is one of those things you two have in common; vengeance. I cannot decide if that’s a good or a bad quality, if I’m honest.”

Sam huffed out a small laugh. “That’s fair.” His hair fell in front of his eyes as he looked down at his hands folded in his lap. His eyebrows drew together, and you just watched him carefully. “You’ve never wanted payback? Not even once?”

You shook your head. “That’s not part of my job. I am a warrior, but I don’t feel emotional attachment to my fights. And, rationally, I know revenge is pointless. It doesn’t change the past. It can only make for a worse future.”

Sam was silent for a moment. “Wow. For a… shiny, hard, plastic, emotionless angel, that’s pretty profound.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “I am not plastic or shiny.”

He laughed. “No, you’re not. Just an analogy.”

“You humans and your words,” you sighed. “The English language is by far the most confusing.”

“Why do you say that?” Sam chuckled. 

“I speak every language ever created, Sam,” you explained. “Even Enochian is simpler than English.”

The young man laughed. “For an angel, you’ve got a good sense of humor.”

You tilted your head. “I didn’t know I did, but thank you.”

***

It had been about three months since Dean’s sentencing. The angels began to talk about how he’d said “yes” to Alistair and was beginning to torture other souls in the pit. However, you knew it was best not to bring that fact up to Sam. 

The brother in your care was still not doing very well. His addiction was getting worse, and his anger at himself for not being strong enough to take care of his most recent demon hunt. You watched through the window as Sam and Ruby shouted at each other, and their anger eventually devolved into Ruby kissing Sam. 

You were stunned, and something you’d never felt before flooded your chest. Whatever this feeling was, you hated it. You backed away from the window you’d become accustomed to staring through and walked off. You felt your vessel stumbling rather than walking, and you were unsure why your chest hurt. You stumbled through the night forward against a tree and held yourself there. 

Whatever was happening to you, one thing was for sure that you could no longer deny: you were beginning to feel.

***

A few days went by, and you hadn’t seen Sam. In fact, you refused to answer his many prayers. He begged you to come to him and told you he didn’t know what he’d done wrong. Eventually, your resolve broke. 

“Hey,” he said, standing from his chair and seeming startled by your appearance. “Wh— Where’d you go? Why didn’t you answer?”

“Why did you have sex with Ruby? Didn’t you know I was watching?” you asked, large eyes holding a pleading innocence. 

Sam seemed caught off-guard. “(Y/N), I haven’t had sex with her in weeks. Wh— Why do you care about that, anyway?”

“I saw you two. She kissed you. I know what comes after that, Sam, I’ve been around for thousands of years,” you continued. 

Sam shook his head. “She kissed me. And then, I pushed her off. I haven’t seen her since.”

You tilted your head. “Why did you do that?”

“ ‘Cause. I couldn’t do it,” he shrugged. 

“Why?”

“ I’m not into voyeurism,” he smirked. “I knew you were watching. I haven’t had sex with her since you showed up.”

You thought for a moment, realizing he was telling the truth. “Oh.” Was this feeling… relief?

Sam gave you a curious look, and you averted his gaze. “Why’d you wanna know?”

You shook your head. “Not important. How have you been these last few days?”

“Honestly?” He scratched the back of his neck. “Not good. The addiction… it’s, uh—”

“Bad?” you asked. 

“That’s putting it lightly.”

“I’m sorry,” you told him. 

“ ‘S not your fault,” Sam shrugged. 

“That is much different from what you told me when we first met,” you said. 

Sam snorted. “Yeah, I was angry then. Now, I know you.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you were surprised at the feeling. 

***

You hummed the tune of “In the Still of the Night” by the Five Satins, a song that Sam had introduced to you. 

The man in question sat at the cabin’s kitchen table hunched over his laptop. Sam had suggested you come inside with him since you’d be keeping an eye on him anyway. You told him if Ruby came, you’d kill her, but he just shook his head. “If she knows you’re here, she’s not coming,” he’d told you. 

“You’ve got a pretty voice,” Sam commented. 

You stopped humming. “Thank you. When the cherubs in my garrison were young, they liked when I’d sing to them.” You resumed your song. 

A few minutes went by before Sam spoke up. “Can I ask you something?” 

You stopped humming again and nodded. 

“Why haven’t you gone after Ruby yet?”

Before you could think, you answered, “Because I knew it would upset you.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Sam’s lips. “I appreciate that.”

You smiled in response. 

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile,” Sam told you. 

You continued to stare at him with your dewey doe eyes. 

“Can I ask you something else?” 

You nodded again.

“Whose body are you in?” he asked. 

You hummed as you thought. “I’ve been with her for centuries. She was being abused by her husband and begging for a way out. You see, angels have to get consent from their vessels. She wanted me to use her body to carry out my father’s mission.”

Sam nodded. 

“I quite enjoyed her company,” you continued. “I’ve never told any of my brothers or sister about this, but the day her soul moved on was the first time I ever felt something like… sadness.”

“So, angels, is it like demons where the vessel’s soul takes a back seat?” Sam questioned, his interest seeming very genuine. 

You shook your head. “Not with her, it wasn’t. She could force me out whenever she wanted, but she told me she preferred my company to that of her husband’s.”

Sam nodded but seemed pensive. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he replied. “It’s just… It’s a lot to take in.”

“I can understand that.” You paused for a moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever spent this long in the company of a human; aside from my vessel.”

“Really?” Sam asked.

You nodded. “I was taught not to spend time with the humans I was charged with. We were always told that the more time you spend with them, the more you become like them. And if you’re a human, you are flawed. You can’t  truly live in service of my father while human.” 

“That sounds kinda fucked up though, (Y/N),” Sam told you. “I mean, don’t you think it’s… restrictive? Limiting?”

You considered. “I guess so. But… I’m sure my father had good reason. He wouldn’t try to hurt us.” 

“I don’t think he would, either,” Sam told you. “But I do think he did that for self-serving reasons.”

You stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate. 

“He creates these… beings— you and the other angels— to bend to his every whim. Think about it. He makes you emotionless, so you don’t question his ‘will’ or… rebel,” Sam explained. “He needs you to be perfectly loyal.”

Sam’s words swirled around in your head. “You’re confusing me,” you said, breath quickening.

Sam shook his head. “I’m not trying to. But you’re smart. I’m just trying to make you think.”

“No human has ever challenged me the way you have,” you responded. “I appreciate it.”

“You do?” He seemed genuinely surprised.

You nodded. “I’ve been around a very long time. Things can get monotonous. It is… refreshing to meet someone like you.”

The corners of Sam’s lips turned upward.

The two of you went back to silence, and suddenly, Sam was up and running to the bathroom.

“Sam?” you asked, running after him.

When you got to him, he was hunched over the toilet bowl vomiting. 

Hesitantly, you reached toward him and began to rub small circles over his back. You remembered your vessel telling you that’s what she’d do to her children when they were sick. 

“It’s okay,” you said softly. “I’m here.”

When Sam was done, he slumped to the floor, curling up into a ball. Sweat covered every inch of his body, and he began to shake feverishly.

You knew it was the withdrawals from the blood after not seeing Ruby for days. You wanted nothing more than to help him through it, but your healing powers couldn’t assist with demonic workings of any kind. What you could do, though, is put him to sleep. You ran your hand over his hair and got up from the floor.

After grabbing a blanket off his bed, you brought it back to the bathroom and sat back down beside him. When you’d tossed the blanket over him, you helped Sam rest his head on your lap. Then, you went back to running your hand over the brunet’s hair and used your powers to put him to sleep. His shaking subsided, and his breathing relaxed. You stayed with him through the rest of the night.

***

When Sam woke up laying against you, he immediately seemed embarrassed. He jerked back from you. “Oh, uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” you said. “It’s what I’m here for.”

Sam leaned forward hesitantly. He kept pausing as his face got closer to yours, seemingly to ensure you weren’t uncomfortable.

Uncomfortable wasn’t quite the word you’d use; there were a million thoughts running through your mind. And yet, you couldn’t string one coherent sentence together. 

You tilted your chin up, and it was all the confirmation Sam needed. His kiss was gentle when he first connected your lips. You responded, almost completely frozen, but still moving your lips in time with his.

Sam’s kiss got more desperate, and he pulled you across his lap, wrapping his large hands around your hips and back. 

And then, he was gone. You were confused only momentarily as you became aware of Zachariah’s presence in front of you.

“I know what you’ve been doing, (Y/N),” Zachariah chastised. 

You hung your head in shame. “I’m sorry, Zachariah. I let myself get too close to Sam Winchester, and—”

Zachariah cut you off. “Yes. You did. I’m disappointed in you.” He stalked around you, his multiple sets of wings encircling and taunting you. “You were one of my best, (Y/N). And now, I’m going to have to let you go.”

Your eyes widened, and you looked up at your superior. “Wait, please! I’m sorry!”

He patted your cheek. “I know you are. But you turned your back on us, (Y/N). You turned your back on our father.”

Tears welled in your eyes. 

“Ah! That. That, right there.” He caught the tear on his first finger as it slipped down your cheek. “Feeling. Feelings are human. You’ve changed, my dear sister.” 

“I’m sorry,” you cried softly. 

“I told you that Sam Winchester is a lost cause. I knew something like this would happen, but you? You didn’t listen. Goodbye, sister.”

And with that, you were sent barreling down to earth. The fall was incredibly painful; your wings feeling like they were being burnt off your body, each feather leaving ripples of searing heat in its wake. 

Nothing could stop you barreling toward the earth. The speed of your fall began to take a toll on you, and your vision faded to black. 

***

You woke up flat on your back in the middle of nowhere. Your limbs ached, and your vessel’s body was undoubtedly broken. Using your weakened powers, you healed your body enough to be able to stand. When you’d gotten your wits about you, you would heal yourself completely. 

You walked through the woods you’d landed in the middle of. The morning sun was still rising, the birds chirped, and light streamed through the trees. All at once, the reality of your situation hit you, and you cried.

You cried for your brothers and sisters you’d never see again; very few ever came to earth. You weren’t sure how you’d get to Sam without your wings, but you needed to see him. This feeling of need was still foreign to you, and you couldn’t decide if you liked how it felt.

All that time you’d spent in service of Heaven and of your father, and you were cast out as if you didn’t matter at all. You knew getting so close was wrong, but you hadn’t expected such harsh treatment. In all your years of being alive, you had never made a mistake. And after just one, you were kicked out? 

On the other hand, though, crying was freeing. Maybe Sam was right. Why would your father restrict you from feeling?

For a moment, the world was quiet. All you could hear was your soft sniffles, the birds chirping, and the wind rustling the leaves of the trees. You took a deep breath, and for the first time, life felt beautiful.

***

Sam was praying to you, and you had no way of responding to him. Slowly but surely, you were making your way back to him. You could feel his soul calling to you, and it only spurred you on to continue walking. As an angel, you had no need for sleep or eating. And so, you walked continuously for five days; each step making Sam’s essence grow stronger. You could feel yourself getting closer to him.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” you heard Sam calling to you. “I don’t know if you’re even still listening to me, but I’m sorry for scaring you off. I— I shouldn’t have done what I did. Just… come back. Please.”

It broke your heart that you couldn’t get to him sooner, and you mentally begged him to wait for you. 

And finally, on the sixth day, you found Sam’s cabin. Joy and relief flooded your chest, and you smiled widely. You ran through the front door, and Sam jerked out of his chair with his gun in hand. When he realized who you were, he dropped his gun to the floor in surprise. “(Y/N)?”

“Hello, Sam,” you smiled, tears rimming your eyes.

“Wh— What happened? Why’d you leave?” he asked.

“I didn’t. Zachariah brought me back to Heaven, and… he took my wings,” you explained, looking down at your shoes. 

Sam’s confused and angry stare turned to his familiar puppy-dog-eyed stare. “What, why?” 

“I’m a fallen angel now. I betrayed Heaven,” you responded.

“By doing what?” he asked. “I kissed you, you didn’t do anything.”

“Yes, I did,” you assured him, stepping closer to him. “I started to feel. And… feel for you.”

Sam’s soft gaze flooded your chest with warmth. He used his first two fingers to tilt your chin up toward his and closed the space between your lips. 

You and Sam weren’t perfect in any sense. But you would take whatever you two were over your shiny, hard, plastic, emotionless past. 

Forever taglist is open; series rewrite taglist is closed!

[adhdduckie]

CATS AND WITCHES; sam winchester x fem!witch!reader

my masterlist

irl moots pls dni, i'll actually die if you mention this irl.

SOULMATESSSS

on the radio; at last by etta james

word count: 7.4k

synopsis; early seasons sam and dean were passing through a small town, where they see an ad about an unnatural disappearance of a girl, there were reports of large feline mammals around the victim's house before the disappearance, and the girl who disappeared mentioned having strange visions. sam and dean decide to check it out because of the large reward for any information. SOULMATESSSS

t.w; swearing, violence, supernatural stuff

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

sam has spent the last 3 days in the car, and he's bored out of his mind. the Winchester brothers had just finished a vampire hunt the week before, and were travelling around north of texas to find their father.

they were sitting in a small diner booth, going through some newspapers to see if there were any supernatural reports. sam was sipping a mug of some pretty bad coffee, but he had no other alternatives.

"here's one." dean says, turning around the newspaper he was looking at. sam sets down his coffee, picking it up and his eyes are caught by the red circle around the missing advert.

"the disappearance of a girl." sam reads aloud. he looks up from the paper, looking at dean with a raised eyebrow.

"keep reading." dean replies, nodding his head.

"reward of twelve thousand dollars if you can find her, and bring her home. come to * address, **** town, north texas for more information, regarding before her disappearance." he finishes.

dean whistles. "that's a lot of money. is she special or something? or is her family just rich?"

"how do we know it's a supernatural disappearance and not a kidnapping or something like that?" sam asks, setting the paper down as he speaks to dean.

"well, they wouldn't be offering such a large sum if it was a kidnapping. but it's probably worth checking out anyway, with that large of a sum. plus, i checked the map, it's only an hour's drive from here." dean replies, swallowing the rest of his breakfast.

"we could use the money anyway." dean says, as a way to convince sam.

"fine." is sam's response, and they both get up from their breakfast, throwing cash onto the table, before heading back to baby.

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

sam steps out of the car, looking up at the large mansion before him.

"damn." dean whistles, shutting baby's door.

"this better be worth our time." sam says as they stride towards the large mahogany door.

Sam noticed that the closer they got to your house, there was a pull at his stomach. Something seemed so familiar but so alienating at the same time. The closer he got, the stronger the pull in his stomach got as well. maybe it was something bad he had at the diner. he knew it looked way too suspicious for such a cheap meal.

Sam’s knocked out of his reverie, his hand clutching his abdomen as dean knocks quite aggressively, and a "coming!" is heard from the other side of the door.

seconds later, a small woman stands in front of the door, and dean and sam both have to crane their necks down to look at her properly. she's wearing a pair of old jeans and a large shirt, and she looks like your typical old auntie that you'd find at a market, bartering for cheaper prices.

"how can i help you?" she asks them.

dean holds up the newspaper advert, showing it to her. "we're here to hear more about the disappearance of a girl? we think we might be able to help." he responds.

the old auntie looks them up and down, sizing them up. she huffs, and opens the door further for both of them to come in. "My name is Miss jones. Would you like tea or coffee? Mrs. L/N will see you soon."

"coffee would be good, thanks." sam responds, and dean chimes the same. miss jones gestures towards one of the pristine white couches, as she goes to make the coffee, with a teeter in her step.

"mrs l/n! there's someone at the door who thinks they can help with Miss Y/n's disappearance." miss jones yells up the large swirling stairs, which are both dark and elegant.

"alright alright. I'll be down soon, make sure they're comfortable!" is the response from the top of the spiral staircase. The seemingly disembodied voice is regal and smooth, sounding as if it seems to curl around the brain.

the couch is plush and comfortable, the room is majestic and comforting, some soft classical music seems to slither into the room from a study, and there are loads of what they assume to be family pictures everywhere.

heels clack against marble staircases as a woman walks down the stairs, her eyes seeming to dim when they look at sam and dean.

"hello, my name is mrs l/n. I do hope that you're comfortable." she asks them, reaching out to sam and dean in a handshake. her hand is soft to the touch, but it's a very firm handshake.

mrs l/n sits in front of them both, her legs crossed over the other at the thigh. She's dressed in a smart suit and pants, as if she's ready for a photoshoot. ms jones comes in from the kitchen, placing down two hot mugs of the best smelling coffee in front of the boys, with a wide assortment of finger sandwiches.

sam and dean share a look, picking up a small sandwich each.

"we're sam and dean. we saw your advert in the paper, mrs. we thought we might be able to help. you see, we specialise in a sort of detective work." dean says, instantly switching on the charisma.

Mrs. L/N sighs. "at this point, i would accept anyone's help for this. the best P.Is we hired were unable to find anything." she pulls out a handkerchief from her suit front pocket, dabbing at her wet eyes, ever the picture of regality.

"i suppose you'd like to hear more about it, right?" She asks.

the boys both nod, picking up some more of the sandwiches. ms jones takes the already empty plate back to the kitchen, filling it up with more assortments for the boys.

"it started last month. my daughter, who i believe is about your age, maybe a couple years younger, she's twenty. a wonderful soul." she sobs, her regal and composed demeanour cracking before them.

the boys wait for her to compose herself before continuing.

"she came home from university, and she was so shaken up. it was easter break, so i was very excited to see her again. she only visits every school break, you know? she seemed so off. i asked her what was wrong, but she kept saying that she was fine, and she was just upset about not obtaining 100% on her end of term exam. i didn't believe her, of course, i could tell it was something more than that."

the boys lean forward, only subconsciously reaching for the delicious small finger sandwiches. mrs l/n cracks a small smile at that, and continues on.

"I persisted, and she finally told me that it was because she kept seeing things. she told me that one night when walking back to her apartment after a late class, she saw something out of the corner of her eye. She didn't think too much of it at first, before she realised it was a large feline. she said she didn't really react, as she was with a large group of her friends, and it was unlikely that it would attack. but every night that week, she said she saw it again.”

“on the final night before she came home, she saw it again while she was getting out of a cab after a night out with friends. she finally saw it properly. she described it as a dark hulking mass that seemed to be made entirely of shadows and horrors. she said she couldn't sleep that night."

at this, the brothers share an interesting look, like a demon or something. or perhaps a familiar of a witch that she had angered.

"She chalked it up to her inebriated state, but it kept eating at her. after she told me, she broke down in tears. i told her she was fine, and she didn't have to worry about it. she was safe in our house. you know, we've always believed in the paranormal, as her father was a very cautious man. we have salt and iron rock brigades in the walls of the house and the marble floors."

sam and dean look surprised at this, having a quick glance around the room. mrs l/n laughs. "i know. i found it silly at first, but my husband has had this house in his family for generations."

"that night when she finally came home, after telling me everything, she retired to her room. the next morning i had gone into her bedroom to look for her to tell her breakfast was ready, and she-" mrs l/n sobs.

"she?" sam supplies. dean's too busy stuffing his face with the plate of cakes that were just set in front of him.

"she wasn't there! there were scratch marks, so deep and etched as if there was something trying to ruin the walls." mrs l/n wails. flailing her arms about. "i'm so-" she hiccups. "i'm so sorry. i'm not usually like this. i miss my daughter, i'm so worried about her."

"we understand. we'll do everything we can to help you. is it possible for us to inspect the scratch marks, and also check out ms y/n's room?"

"of course." is mrs' l/n's response. "you both look so hungry, you must need a lot of food to help you. take up the cake plates with you. and if you want anything else, just yell for either miss jones or i. her room is the one on the third floor, with the flowers and vines on the door." she gives them a watery smile, picking up the plates from the table, holding it up to them.

"thank you mrs. l/n." sam and dean respond, taking the plates, standing up from the couch, as ms jones shows them the way.

'be careful. there's a dark energy in that room." Ms jones whispers to them, as they follow behind her teetering form as she hobbles up the stairs.

"oh don't worry, we're used to it." dean responds, as she points out the room to them, before hobbling back down the stairs to mrs. l/n.

"i hope the winchester brothers are careful." mrs l/n says to ms jones. "I wouldn't want john to get mad at me if they're horribly injured." she turns to the small woman beside her.

"they've grown quite big. especially sam. he's so much bigger now." mrs l/n states.

"why didn't you tell them you know them?" ms jones responds.

"they would probably ask me to tell them where john is, and i can't do that." mrs l/n sighs.

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

"mrs l/n is not as snobby as i expected her to be. she's quite nice." dean says to sam, as they stand outside of your room's door.

"i know. what do you think happened to her daughter?" sam asks as he pushes open your door.

dean takes in a deep breath at the sight before him.

"shit." he whispers out. "what happened here?"

your (normally) tidy room is in shambles. cupboards are on the floor, clothes spilling out of them. there's money strewn across the floor, making it look like a robbery scene. there's glass shards on the floor of your room, meaning your room has been broken into. which is strange, considering your room is on the third floor.

the only thing that makes it not look like a robbery and a kidnapping, is the deep scratches on the marble floor, in the solid walls, and in your bed bannisters.

"fuck, man." dean muffles out through a large bite of cake. "that's some really awesome cake." he says.

"seriously? shouldn't we focus on this instead?" sam says, rolling his eyes.

"i can eat cake at the same time."

sam sets down his plates, shrugging off his heavy bag full of iron salt and iron chains.

it seems as if your mother had left it the way she found it, to help with any investigations made into your disappearance.

sam walks closer to the large claw marks on your bed bannisters. the sheets are intact, and it seems like whatever took you woke you up from the glass shattering.

the sheets are a mess, and your pillow is on the floor. there's a bat beside your bed, which seems to be smeared with some blood on the handle.

"shit. what kind of princess has a bat beside her bed?" dean says, noticing Sam's gaze.

"her mom told us she was really freaked out. she probably put it there for her own protection." sam responds, rolling his eyes.

sam runs his fingers over the deep etches in the bedframe, pausing when he feels a pulse of energy.

"that's weird." he states absentmindedly to himself, not noticing dean standing behind him, still holding onto what must be his third plate of chocolate cake.

"what?" He mumbles around the cake.

sam turns his head, still crouching low as he runs his fingers to the next deep scratch. there's something pulling at him, so he follows it, but he stoops low to pick up his bag, beckoning dean behind him.

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

sam's followed it into a deep, dark forest. it's a couple of miles from your house, a large secluded forest.

dean complains about the temperature as he walks, but the deeper they go into the forest, the more they realise that something is wrong.

well, not wrong, but it feels, heavy. not temperature wise, but an aura that seems lonely and sad. it settles on the shoulders, causing the walk to get harder and slower.

dean's lugging the bags, complaining of the weight as he hobbles. He's still injured from their last hunt, and he's been slow and in pain recently.

a couple of branches snaps in the distance, and they both pause. It's not an animal. they're silent there on out, and walk towards the sound. The pull is getting stronger.

there's a figure hooded in the dark, and sam and dean share a look. what is it this time, a demon, a cold maiden or a wailing banshee?

the closer they get, they realise it's not any of the aforementioned. the figure is small, human-like. their hands are corporeal, foraging in the grass for herbs. the pull he feels is getting stronger. in sam's haste to get closer, to see what they're looking at, he steps on a branch, and it cracks loudly.

In the forest, you’ve been foraging, the entire day, you had been feeling a light tug on your stomach, and you just thought it was because your familiar had been away. You had been feeling a pull in your stomach, but just as the branch cracks, it gets stronger. your head shoots up, and you freeze.

what you first think you see is a moose, but the longer you look, it's a pair of two boys. the one who's startled you is taller than the other, and he's the one that you thought was a moose. but what scares you the most is the fact they're both carrying two large heavy bags, not knowing what they might hold inside. so you do the first thing that comes to your mind, you run.

sam recognizes you from the images, and just as he realises the look in your eyes is fear, it's too late. you're already running.

sam sprints after you, wanting to talk and understand why you've seemed to stage your own abduction, but when dean catches up to sam, he tells him to stop, and the more he chases, the more likely you're to run.

"why is she here? why is she okay?" sam asks dean. dean just shrugs, and thinks for a second.

"she was probably sick of her home life or something." dean finally responds, picking up the bags that sam had dropped. dean frowns before finishing. "but you said that you felt a pulse of dark energy, right?"

sam nods in response. curiosity gets the best of him, and he wants to know why you were running. and for the large bounty, they have to bring you back.

they follow the pull that sam feels, the force pulling him closer to you.

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

"what. the fuck." you're thinking as you sprint through the forest. you're wondering how they found you, and what were they going to do to you?

you make it back to the small cottage you found in the woods years ago, having made it more habitable as time had passed.

slamming the door behind you, you lean against it, sliding down until you're sitting.

"fuck. who were they?" you ask yourself, praying that they won't be coming after you.

you stand, setting down the basket you had used to collect the mushrooms on the sink, petting the maine coon that sits next to you, he purrs, rubbing his head against your hand, you’re glad that he’s back.

suddenly, you hear the front door creak open, and the moose boy and what seems to be his brother now that you have had a proper look, are standing there.

you freeze, standing up and immediately picking up the large knife on the counter. "what do you want?" you demand, brandishing it at them.

the moose boy, who's broad and tall, drops the bags they were carrying on the threshold of your house. his hands, which are large like the rest of him, are held up in a sign of surrender, a sign that they weren't going to hurt you.

"we don't wanna hurt you. we just wanna talk." he says to you. his voice is deep, and if he wasn't a total stranger who barged into your house, you'd describe it as soothing.

"the fuck you mean you wanna talk? who are you? how did you find me?" you grumble, whirring the knife around and around your hand.

dean laughs, scoffing a little. "she's not as princess as I thought. How is she mrs. l/n's daughter?" he says to sam.

you overhear him, pausing. "what do you mean? how do you know my mother?" you demand, holding the knife further up.

"she's the one who hired us to find you. she thinks you've been taken." sam states slowly, approaching you as if you're an easily startled deer.

you lower your knife, setting it down. you'll trust these boys for now. they don't seem so bad. your maine coon, ares, however, disagrees. he snarls, shifting into his larger form. he's the size of a tiger in that form. the whiteness of his fur melting into a dark, staticky one.

dean lets out a yell in surprise, and hits sam in the face. the whisps of darkness of ares's fur are tinted with a red, and they float towards you.

"no! ares. stop." you demand, and he turns his head to your side, baring his teeth. "it's fine for now." you state.

dean and sam know what you are now. a witch, with a rare familiar. "fuck." sam whispers. "yeah." dean agrees.

ares snarls again, before shifting back into his original form.

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

a few minutes later, your door is closed, and the three of you are settled around your small kitchen, steaming cups of herbal tea set up in all of their hands.

your mug is small in sam's hand, and it would be funny how out of place he looks in the small hut if you weren't so worried. he really does remind you of a moose.

"okay, moose. tell me everything." you state, pointing at sam.

"first of all, moose? what the hell is that?" he asks, bewildered. dean laughs, smacking him on the back.

"i dunno. you remind me of one." you shrug, but you point at him again.

"okay, your mom hired us to look for you since she's super worried. you just up and disappeared. " dean interjects.

"but the real question is, what the hell are you doing?" sam finishes.

you let out a deep sigh. In the last couple of days, you've felt so stressed about this. whatever these powers are, they're so annoying. what have you done to deserve this?

"the cat you saw, ares, he's supposed to be my familiar." you tell them everything, about how your powers manifested, how ares had found you to help you control your powers better, how you ran away because you were scared of hurting your friends and your loved ones.

"ares did the scratching for me, in the wood. he broke the glass for me, to make it look like a burglary. i did my best." you finish, and you're feeling tears well up in your eyes.

"hey." sam soothes you, resting a hand on your shoulder. his palm is warm and heavy, and you briefly wonder what it would be like to hold it.

"i'm learning to control my powers too, we should work together." he suggest and dean sends him a funny look.

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

your mom cries and hugs when she sees you, and gives the money that was promised to the two boys.

"why did you leave?" she begs you for answer, her arms still wrapped around you.

dean and sam, you now know their names, are sat on your couch again, eating some food.

"i was scared. I didn't want to hurt you." you tell her, mumbling into her hair.

"you could never. I should have warned you that it was coming." your mom tells you, patting your head softly. this gets everyone's attention.

"you knew?" sam, dean and you all say at the same time. you catch the eyes of sam, and he smiles at you supportively. Is it weird that it's supportive, even though you've only known him a couple hours?

"yeah. it's been passed down through generations, but it skipped me." she shrugs, telling everyone. "it's funny, because when we were younger, john-" she slaps a hand over her own mouth.

"fuck." she whispers out, but it's muffled.

"you knew our father?" sam asks your mum, standing up from his seat. she sighs, and shakes her head.

"i knew him, but i don't know where he is." she says sadly.

your mom tells you all of how she grew up with him, and that they were neighbours. Her father and john’s, were good friends. You even spent some time with sam and dean when you were younger, but just didn’t remember as you were too young.

Everyone nods in understanding, and you finally feel better.

“Mom?” you ask quietly, dragging her to the side. Unknown to you, sam’s watching you with a small smile, but dean notices.

“You whipped already, moose?” dean teases sam. “What-? No.” sam responds, but he feels his face heat up.

“I’m just wondering what led me to her before.” he says, trying to change the topic.

“Who knows. You could be soulmates.” dean jokes, thinking about their shared demon blood.

“Maybe.” he mumbles halfheartedly, not really listening.

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

“Mum?” you ask as you pull your mom to the side to talk to her.

“Yes, sweetheart?” she responds.

“Uhm, i want to go with them.” you say.

“What?” your mom panics. “Are you sure? It’s not going to be safe.” she says.

“I know. But i want to learn how to control the powers properly. There are some things I want to learn, some things i need to see that if i don’t leave, i’ll never see.” you tell her, trying your best to convince her.

“I see.” she responds. She’s got her poker face on, the one that won her 10 thousand dollars at a casino in las vegas when you were 11. You don’t know what she’s going to say, but you hope that she’ll let you go. “What’s something you want to learn?” she finally asks you.

You stare at her in bewilderment, your ears reddening before you speak. “Before sam and dean found me, i felt this pull in my stomach. I feel it now, and it only seems to be slacker when i’m with the two of them. I want to learn what that is.”

Your mom laughs so hard, she ends up wiping tears from her eyes. “I see.” she wheezes.

“What?” you ask her.

“Nothing, nothing. You’ll figure it out eventually.” she says, giggling to herself again.

You groan, “but can i go? I want your blessing.” you beg.

“Yes you can. But you must be safe, and remember to call me at least once a week, so that i know you’re still alive and safe. I’ll kill the both of them if they even let you get hurt.” she says, threatening loud enough that sam and dean stop whispering between themselves enough to look up at you both.

Sam’s got a sheepish grin on his face, and dean’s got a smirk, as if he’s saying that he knows something you don’t.

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

The next year is a mess.

You spend all of your time with the boys, getting close enough to both of them to consider them both your best friends.

Dean’s like a brother to you. And Sam, well sam-… he’s different.

Everytime you see him, you can’t help but smile. Every room he’s in with you seems brighter than it was before he went in, and you love every single second of your life that you spend with him.

The bond isn’t so strong when you’re together, but it’s only quiet when you’re touching him. If it’s hands pressed together, his arm resting on your shoulder, you tucked into his side, as long as you’re touching, it’s restful.

It’s hard sometimes, the life of a hunter. Your witch abilities help them on the hunt, and the added protection of ares is really good too.

You’re in a pickle, a couple of times. The work is dangerous, and not many make it to an older age.

This last hunting trip is going to kill you, you decide as soon as dean describes what’s going on.

A small rickety sports bar has been popping up all over the country, a popular couple’s bar named ‘hearts aligned.’ the story is that everytime a couple walks in, the chances are that the couples don’t come back out.

It seems to be this strangeness that is attracting all these couples to keep coming anyway. It’s ridiculous how people think that it’s cool because of that, and instead of staying away, they keep coming back.

So this is what leads you to now. Your smaller hand wrapped around sam’s larger one, as you entered the bar. you swear you can hear dean sniggering miles away back at the hotel rooms at the mere thought of your forced proximity with his baby brother.

Of course, dean found out that you liked sam, he became annoying to the point where he found numerous excuses for why he couldn’t do hunts, preferring to stay at the bunker than go out.

“Oh, my back hurts. Since you’re younger, you and moose can go do this one.” he’ll say, as he pushes you and sam out the door. He always sends you a wink.

Moose has now become a nickname for sam. It wasn’t on purpose, no matter how many times sam accuses you of finding the least suitable nickname for him.

Sam and you, wrapped up together as you wait in the lobby of the bar. The smell of sweat and love hangs heavy in the air, sticking to your skin like honey.

You don’t like it. You don’t like how natural it feels to be tucked into sam’s side, his hand resting on your waist. You don’t like how it feels so natural that he’s pressing light kisses to your hairline, like you’re something precious that he’s afraid to be away from for even a second.

You really hate how he’s playing the role of an affectionate boyfriend so well, and you know as soon as this is over, you’re never going to be able to get over it. You’re gonna get addicted if this keeps going on.

Not to mention, you hate how because of your short dress, you're cold, and somehow without you even saying anything, Sam's noticed. You didn’t even say anything, and he wrapped himself around you with the sole goal to warm you up.

And it works, he does. The body heat he emits is more than enough to warm you up, without being too warm. His hand, resting on your hip, is warm even through the fabric of your dress.

And most of all, you hate how the pull that you’ve felt in the pit of your stomach that’s been there since you’ve met the brothers, isn’t tight, for once. It feels as if that the closer you are to him, the more relaxed you feel.

“You okay?” sam whispers into your ear, playing the role of the beloved concerned boyfriend well. You shiver slightly, the warmth of his voice does that to you. It’s impressive how as soon as you feel the slightest bit off, that he notices. It’s as if he’s fine tuned himself into all the subtle shifts of your moods.

“Yeah.” you whisper in response. He does notice the shiver, but he chalks it up to the aircon vent blowing cold air at your back. He moves so that he’s in the way of the aircon’s cold blast, his warm front pressing into your back.

You let out a small huff of air, comfortable with his proximity and his warmth. “How long do you think this’ll take, moose? I’m getting tired.” You whisper to him, the music strangely quiet for a bar. To make sure he hears you better, you turn your face to him, bringing your lips closer to his ear.

He fights a difficult battle, trying everything in his willpower not to blush. That damn nickname, you… Everything, it’s killing him. “Dunno, shouldn’t be that much longer.” he responds in what he hopes is a confident, strong tone.

The longer you stay at the bar, the quieter it gets. Some couples leave giggling and laughing, dragging their partner’s hand with a mischievous smile.

You feel the bar getting colder, and a quick glance at the thermostat proves you right. “Anytime now.” he whispers again.

Suddenly, there’s a guttural screech, and the rest of the bar goers flee the premises, leaving you and sam alone in the bar. He steps away from you, pulling out the revolver supplied with rock salt, and bares it at the source of the screech.

As you unclasp the thigh guard, you pull out your own gun, similar to his. It was a gift from him on your birthday, engraved with your initials and a small cat.

You point it where sam is pointing his gun. You feel goosebumps raising on your arms, the hairs standing up as you hear a little scuttle. If you weren’t so fine tuned into sam, you wouldn’t have noticed how the hairs on the back on his neck stick up as well.

You want to smooth them down, but it really isn’t the time for that.

The scuttling gets louder, the sound of nails on a blackboard screeches through the bar as the music abruptly stops. The screeching gets louder, scuttling like a beetle as it gets closer, so loud that you think it’s right next to you, but you can’t see anything at all.

You pause, feeling your heart momentarily stop. Slowly craning your neck up to the ceiling, you almost scream. A year into the business, and you’re still not prepared.

▷ —-------------------- (crack)

The sound of the chair being knocked over as you scramble away from- from- whatever that thing is.

It’s got long dark hair, which is dangling. A feminine shape, with a covered face, but you can feel eyes staring at you with a glowering menace even without seeing it. Even no longer directly below it, you can feel it staring at you.

Sam gets in a protective stance, blocking its view of you by stepping in front of it.

‘Well…what have we click click here?” it rasps, voice disoriented and deep, clicking, sounding at the back of its dry throat, reminding you of the sounds the velociraptors in Jurassic world made.

You raise the gun, pointing it right between where the eyes would be on a normal person. Sam reaches out behind him, just checking to see if you’re behind him still, making sure you’re still safe.

“awww. such a cute hunter couple.” it snarls, dropping from the ceiling. its bones crack as it moves, body bending backwards as it stalks towards you.

suddenly it pauses. “you don't see that often, anymore.” it mumbles to itself, one grotesque finger drawing a line connecting the two of you, and the next thing you know, you're thrown together against the wall as it stalks closer.

“fuck.” sam groans as his back hits the wall, and you let out a hiss of pain, tied to his chest as you flail around, trying to move.

something invisible is pinning you in place. you're embarrassed to say that even in such a dangerous position, your heart is thumping aggressively in your chest, practically bursting out.

the thing is drawing close, and it's enough to get you to snap out of your reverie, and you remember that it's neither the time nor the place for this.

“Hmm. soulmates? So rare. You both can’t be human then.” it grumbles, its finger bending back with an unnatural crack.

‘What the fuck.’ you’re thinking as you both are struggling. Using your powers, you send a blast, making the thing fall back, scuttling its old bones as it regains its stance, prowling towards you.

In the time that it loses its balance, you and sam find yours. He pulls you up to his feet quickly, retrieving both of your guns as he points it at the thing, his other hand behind him, ensuring that you’re behind him.

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

In the end, you end up taking it out, sending it back to a demon dimension, and dragging your sorry asses back to your hotel rooms, where dean, is lying comfortably on the bed, with a beer in his hand.

You glare at him, beaten up and bloody, cuts all over your face from falling face first into a window. You’ve healed all the serious injuries, but don’t have enough energy to do the rest.

“I take it went well?” dean asks smugly, stretching out his limbs as if he’s done anything remotely productive. (spoiler alert. He hasn’t. He’s just gotten back from the bar)

“She was an elder-being. Thanks for the warning, dean.” sam growls, eyebrows furrowed as he hobbles over to lie on the bed.

“Hey! Don’t get the bedsheets bloody, we’ll be charged more.” you say, hitting him lightly, wincing when you hear him let out a hiss of pain.

“Shit.” sam whimpers, holding his arm, slightly above the slash in his arm. It’s not bleeding heavily anymore, but you bet it’s painful as hell, especially with those long ass nails raking at him.

“I’m sorry!! I didn’t mean to. Wait, I'll help patch you up. ” you tell him pushing him down so he sits on the edge of his bed in dean and his’ room.

Dean lets out a grunt as he jumps to his feet, already having enough of whatever flirting will happen soon.

“Right, i’m heading down to the bar, gonna check out the ladies.” he says, striding over to the door.

“Weren’t you just at the bar?” you ask him with a raised brow.

“Yeah, but they’re probably already missing me.” he responds, winking at ya. You can hear sam groaning slightly from the pain, turning your eyes away from dean to watch sam, you hear the door click closed behind you

You roll your eyes, pulling out the medical kit to pay attention to how injured sam might be.

“That was really stupid of you, moose. Jumping out a window?” you chastise him, a worried furrow in your brows as you pull out the necessary ointments.

Sam stares at you, his fingers itching at his side, wanting to smooth out the furrow in your brows. He thinks about what the demon thing said, and wants to talk about it, but he wants you to be comfortable first.

“Are you injured anywhere?” he asks, his hand reaching up and doing what he wants. His touch is gentle and soft, and even as he smooths the furrow out of your brow, his thumb lingers, before he pulls back. You miss his touch instantly, skin tingling where his thumb rested.

“Just a couple of scratches. Nothing as serious as your arm.” you respond, grimacing slightly as you really look at his cut.

“Yeah, but i’m still worried about you.” he responds, frowning.

“Don’t. Be more worried about yourself, since you’re the one in pain right now.” you chastise him, trying to pull the edges of his shirt away from the cut, letting out a sigh when he

“You gotta take off your overshirt, sam. I don’t wanna have the fabric sticking to the cut, or infecting it.” you tell him, stepping back while you wait for him to do as you ask.

He winces as he pulls it over his head, his white undershirt stained from the blood only on one side.

“You see? And you’re still telling me that you’re worried about me.” you say, pointing to the cut.

As you end up cleaning it up first, you’re in a comfortable silence. You keep thinking about the eldritch woman, and what she said about a soulmate bond. It would make a lot of sense, how for all this time, you’ve always been drawn to him.

Not just physically, but what seems to be mentally too, you notice all of his quirks, his hobbies, his preferences, and what he would deem his faults. They’re not faults to you, they’re just him, and you love him.

Unknown to you, he’s thinking the same. Maybe not to the same extent of what you're thinking, but to a similar extent. He’s curious about what happened, and he wants to know more, to know if you feel the same pull he does.

You end up stitching the rest of his cut up, and when you’re done, you collapse onto the bed in exhaustion. Letting out a deep, tired sigh, you throw your arm over your eyes, blocking out the light.

Sam’s still sitting on the edge of his bed, but he’s turned to stare at you. He watches the way your chest rises and falls with each breath you take, and even with the sound of music drifting into the room from the bar downstairs, he can hear the little puffs of air you let out.

He calls your name, and you shift your arm upwards, resting against your forehead as you stare down at him.

“Yeah?” you ask.

“..what do you think she meant about the soulmate bond?” sam asks. He’s probably the most nervous he’s ever been right now, but it’s a kind of nervousness that is elating, making his heart race in his chest.

You blink at him, just assuming that that was just going to be something else swept under the carpet of your friendship if you didn’t bring it up. Like lingering stares, touches that are wayyyy too long to just be friendly, and the way he’s just too fine tuned into you.

“Uh. Maybe what it quite literally means?” You finish, trying not to show just exactly how terrified you are right now, since this is a topic you thought you’d never talk about. Like how dean really really needs a love life, not just one night stands.

Sam can’t help but roll his eyes, and he feels slightly less stressed about bringing this topic up now, since you sound to him as if you’ve been thinking about it too.

You really want to talk about it, but you really don’t want to sound too desperate.

“You know that’s not what I mean, y/n.” he tells you, shifting so that his legs are no longer hanging off the edge of the bed, and he’s looking right at you. His arm is tender, and the little movement is enough to make him wince.

Sitting up to look at him properly, you sigh. You don’t know what to say, really.

“Do you feel it?” he asks, shyly. “The soulmate bond?” He thinks of all the times he’s even thought that you might have reciprocate his feelings, and he thinks he has a solid chance right now.

You don’t think you’re gonna get rejected, but it’s still slightly unnerving to bring something as serious as this up, because if it doesn’t work out, your entire dynamic will be destroyed, and you will not only lose the love of your life, but your best friend, and in the process, you could lose dean, too.

“Yeah. i just didn’t know what it was before.” you tell him, scratching the back of your neck nervously, wincing when you scratch at a injury you didn’t notice before.

Sam lightens up obviously, the physical embodiment of puppy eyes. He looks at you now, and he laughs.

“What?” you ask him, slightly nervous.

“I feel it too, you know?” he tells you. “I felt it that day in the woods, i felt it when you left my side for even a moment, I felt it when we were together. I just thought it was some kind of overattachment to you.”

This makes you laugh, and he pulls you closer by your arm.

“I felt it in the woods, that day when I thought you were a moose, I felt it when I sat in the passenger seat of baby, I felt it when you were injured in the hospital.” you respond, thinking of all the times where the bond vexed you, and made you happy.

Sam stares down at you, pulling you into his side properly. You’re tucked into under his arm as he presses a chaste kiss to the tips of your fingers, to the palm of your hand, your forearm, as he slowly makes his way up to your face.

In between each kiss, he whispers out to you; “I've felt you everywhere in my life since the first day I met you. In my head, my lungs, in my space. You are the air I breathe, and without you, I'm scared I’ll die.”

he pauses when he reaches your jaw, pausing, giving you time to push him away if you don’t want this.

“yeah? “ you respond smugly, gloating now that you’re aware of just how much you affect him. You’re breathless, waiting for the kiss that you feel you’ve been missing your entire life.

This is the only moment that matters, the part where you finally come together. With that, he kisses you. The kiss is sweet and soft, a promise of more to come.

He pulls back, forehead resting against yours and your breaths mingle together, but it isn’t enough. You need more for all the times you’ve been afraid he’s hurt or worse, dead.

You pull him closer by the collar of his undershirt, and kiss him. You kiss him like crazy, and he reciprocates, kissing you harder. This kiss is everything you’ve lost, come back to you.

When you finally pull apart, you’re giggling, and he chuckles, pressing another chaste kiss to your forehead, whispering how much he loves you.

You fall asleep entangled together, ankles crossed over his as he rests his arm over your waist, your head tucked between his neck and his shoulder.

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

Dean comes back from the bar, switching on the light of the room, and he quite literally does a double take when he sees the two of you entangled together, even in sleep.

He does everything in his power not to wake you up with screams of “i knew it” and “it’s about damn time”. He’s happy to see his brother so content, even in sleep, there’s a smile on sam’s face.

Dean pulls out his phone, sending a quick text to mrs l/n; who’s number he got to stay in touch with updates of his father.

‘You owe me ten bucks.’ he types out.

The screen lights up with a response from mrs l/n.

‘What!? Already? I thought it would be later.’ is the reply, and he laughs at that.

[lunajay33]

New Addition🤎

Summary: Being Sam Winchesters long time girlfriend was wonderful until he had family business and was on the road all the time, but what happens when you find out you’re pregnant?

Pairing: Early Seasons Sam Winchester x f!reader

•Masterlist•

Sitting in my apartment missing waking up to sharing the bed with Sam, cuddling against his warm body, sitting on the counter as he makes us pancakes, getting ready for college parties together, everything we use to do now just memories

“Come on Sam I miss you, when are you gonna be home?” I sighed into the phone

“I’m sorry baby I miss you too but Dean and I are working some jobs and….”

“Jobs? I thought you were just looking for your dad? Sam are you okay I’m worried” he’s been gone for a month now and it was miserable he helped pay half the rent and it was a struggle by myself now and he’s my soulmate and being apart really wanes on the heart

“Well we’re still looking just making some stops along the way” I could hear Dean in the back making fun of him calling me baby

“You know I can’t be mad at you I’m just……I just miss you but I hope everything is going good with Dean and you find your dad” he told me all about his problems in the past with his family but all I wanted was for him to be happy

“You know I miss you too baby, wish I could see you, sleeping in these shitty motel rooms doesn’t compare to WOAH Dean stop hitting me!” Dean obviously didn’t want to hear the end of that making me cheer up a bit

“Well just call me more when you get the time but I have class, I love you Sam”

“Love you too Angel” the call ended and I was forced to go along with my daily routine, get ready, go to class and come back to an empty apartment

It went on like this for 2 more months and it just got worse, his calls became less frequent maybe once a week, I fell into a deep sadness that only Sam Winchester could brighten, and I became sick at first I thought it was a flu maybe a stomach bug but after talking to some friends and one test later and I find out I’m pregnant, I have to be atleast 3 months along since that’s the time he’s been gone

After having an hour long breakdown I dialed Sam hoping he had some time to talk and not on another job

“Angel why are you calling so late?” His voice groggy

“Sammy……we need to talk” I stutter out still emotional

“What’s wrong are you okay?”

“I’m pre……I can’t tell you over the phone I need to see you��..please” I beg praying he’ll just come home

“I don’t know Dean and I are…”

“Sam this is really important what ever you’re doing can wait, I need you”

“Okay we’ll be there by the time you wake up”

I woke up exhausted from the stress of the day before, I’m pregnant actually pregnant under normal circumstances I’d be happy starting a family with Sam but with how absent he’s been I feel him drifting away

I willed myself out of bed and pulled on one of Sam’s hoodies that hung down to my knees and wore a pair of pair of black legging, running a warm cloth over my face to freshen up when I heard a rapid knocking at the front door

My heart filled with panic and I was becoming hesitant about coming clean, I opened the door and there he stood, towering over me like a god yet still so soft on me

He swooped down and lifted me easily into his arms and held me close, being back in his arms just felt right it felt like home and so I broke down again as I clung to him

“Sammy” I whined as I hide my tear streaked face in his shoulder smelling his oh so wonderful cologne

He brought me inside and sat me down on the couch, Dean looming in the room after he rummaged for food in our kitchen

“Angel what’s wrong? You don’t look so good” he asked as he stroked my hair helping calm me

“You’ve been gone so long and I understand but it’s been a hard 3 months alone, I can’t sleep, I can’t think straight, I’m broke and……..”

“And what?” Dean intervened making my heart jump, Sam sending him a glare

“I thought I was just sick but…….im pregnant” I felt so vulnerable as he just looked at me seeming to be in shock

“You’re joking” Dean groaned

“I didn’t mean too…..im sorry” I say as my lip trembled

“Oh Angel this isn’t your fault it’s mine and I shouldn’t have left you alone so long like that I don’t know what I was thinking” he sighs as he holds me to his chest

“Family business Sammy” Dean stated

“Dean stop”

“Sam if being with your family is so important and doing all these jobs I understand but if that’s what you want then I don’t want to hold you back if this isn’t what you want anymore”

“What? No of course I want you I want this, you’re my soulmate and I’m never letting you go again, you deserve to know the truth”

“Sam don’t” deans assertive tone booming in the room

After Sam told me everything about this new supernatural world I was sceptic at first but honestly it connected a lot of dots

“So these jobs you work are important but I can’t go months being apart again”

“You can come with us, just for while you’re pregnant and then when you give birth we can go home and settle” he said with a bright smile, that smile I fell in love with

“Are you sure Dean won’t hate me” I whisper to him

“He’ll lighten up trust me Angel”

Sam helped me pack all the my clothes and personal items I needed and we were off on the road, it was a nice car with lots of room for me to stretch out in the back

“So where are we going?”

“There’s signs of a vampires nest in a small town, going to check it out see what’s going on” Dean says his eyes still on the road, he still made me a bit nervous though

“Umm are vampires one of the easier monsters you deal with?” I ask trying to make conversation

“They can be, but a nest of them can be a bitch”

They go on to tell me all the cases they’ve worked since they’ve been gone and it’s crazy to wrap my head around, after driving all day we finally got to the town settling into a little motel room

“I’m gonna go pick us up some dinner” Dean said as he threw his bag on his bed and left

I sat on the bed me and Sam are sharing sighing once the door closed

“What’s wrong Angel?”

“I just hate being a burden to you guys I know how stressful this is for you plus having this baby….”

“Hey you’re not a burden I’m just glad you’re with me now, being cooped up with Dean 24/7 can become a bit macho” he says making me laugh

“Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?” I ask as he places his hand on my tiny bump

“I’m happy with either, you know my mother would have loved you you’re as kind as she was, well atleast that’s what Dean says about her”

“You know this baby is the luckiest in the world to have you as their father, and such a handsome one at that” he smiled as he pulled me into his lap pulling me close

“I’ve missed this, holding you” his hand runs down my back sending shivers

“Kissing you” his lips gently press to my collar bone making me gasp

“Being with you at night” the door bursts open interrupting our moment, I jump out of his lap and their stands Dean and what I believe to be their father from old pictures Sam has showed me

“Sammy trying to get some” Dean laughed making my body heat in embarrassment

“Who’s this?” John asked his voice full of disapproval

“Dad where have you been? Never mind that right now, this is y/n my girlfriend”

“And what the hell is she doing here son?” I felt little under his gaze

“She can’t be alone she’s pregnant” Sam said confidently as he held my hand

“Sam what the hell were you thinking, you can’t have a pregnant girl doing this job, you need to be focused”

“Maybe I should just go home” I say as I go to pick up my bag

“No! You’re staying Angel I’m not letting you go again” he said as he wiped a stray tear I didn’t know had escaped my waterline

“She’s family now dad, you can’t push her away cause if you do then you’re just gonna push me away too, for good this time” John sighed and gave a look to Dean

“Tomorrow we’re going to stake out the vampires nest, be ready” he said sternly before stomping out of the room leaving an awkward cloud looming over the three of us

“Come on you two let’s eat” Dean said in a lighter tone obviously trying to pick up what his father ruined

We ate at the little table chatting about random things, how Sam and I met, our first date and how nervous Sam was, almost everything we had together up until this point

“Have you told your family about the baby?” Dean asked after he took a swig of beer

“I don’t really have family, I was raised in an orphanage and when I turned 18 I was pretty much on my own, I stayed in the schools dorms until Sam and I moved in together, plus our friends kind of changed after first year so it’s mostly just been Sammy and I”

“I’m sorry”

“Oh no it’s fine I’m happy with the way my life turned out it lead me to Sam after all” I smile looking at Sam who had that loving look, he was so gentle compared to his brother

“You guys are going to make me hurl”

It’s been a crazy and stressful 6 months but I’m now in the last week of pregnancy and to say I’m scared is an understatement, I’m terrified but I feel like I can’t tell Dean and Sam with what they face everyday, this is probably a walk in the park to them

They were out right now hunting a werewolf as I paced back and forth in yet another motel room, I’ve been having cramps in my stomach since I woke up but I just thought it could be indigestion from the food we ate last night but they’ve only gotten stronger, walking helps but this could just be Braxton’s hocks I try to tell my self that is u til my water breaks, I’m hesitant to call Sam because of the case but like he said this is more important, I dialed hoping he’d answer

“Hey we’re on our way back now did you need us to pick you up anything?”

“Sam my water broke” I could hear him tell Dean to drive faster

“Okay just hold on we’ll be there soon, just do the breathing exercises like we practiced”

“Okay I’ll try” I breath deeply as another contraction hit a whimper left me but I know it’s going to get much worse

Minutes later Sam and Dean busy through the hotel room, Dean get my to go bag and Sam gently picks me up and brings me to the car sitting with me in the back

“Sammy I’m scared”

“We’re almost to the hospital hold on kiddo” Dean said trying to reassure me, he’d warmed up to me over the months like Sam said

“You can do this, think of our little girl or boy we’re about to meet” I nodded gripping his hand, we got to the hospital and were settled in a private room, Sam at my side and Dean on the couch used for husband or partners

“What if something happens?” I ask as he brushes my hair back

“Everything will be okay, you’re the strongest woman I know”

“It’s time Mrs Winchester” the doctor said making my heart swell at the name, he was wrong but I didn’t care

After some agonizing pushes that pressure was gone replaced by a little babies cries, the nurse laid the baby on my chest and she was beautiful, she had Sam big green hazel eyes and had light brown hair

“Congrats on a baby girl” the nurse said, they cleaned me up and left the room letting the four of us settle

“What are you going to name my little niece?” Dean asked now standing on the other side of the bed mesmerized by her

“How about Luna Mary Winchester” I say looking up to Sam for his opinion

“I love it, I love you, both of you” he smiled as he played with Lunas little fingers

“The three of us just became four”

[ohsc]

₊˚⊹♡ mean | sam winchester x reader

requested - heyy could u make a sam x reader thing where he fucks rlly roughly but he’s really sweet during aftercare bc the idea that sam is rough during but sweet after makes me weak in the knees🫠🙏 (anon)

a/n - this is. probably the most filthy thing i’ve written. it’s just filthy smut. with a hint of sweetheart sam at the end. i need him so bad it’s not funny. still working on my longer plot fics but i wanted to get this out today to get back into writing!! hopefully you enjoy :) would very much appreciate feedback! <3

cws - fem!reader, 2.4k, nsfw 18+, meandom!sam turned soft!sam, oral f!recieving, praise, very mild choking, condescending words, p in v, mild overstimulation, tears, aftercare, fluff

other fics can be found on my masterlist

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

She was convinced that Sam’s mouth was a whole new kind of heaven.

He’d already made her cum once with his mouth alone, large hands pressed into the plush of her thighs to keep them spread, her hips stilled, which were twitching with every sweep of his tongue. He was skilled, drawing the pleasure out of her like it was nothing. Sam had easily spent fifteen minutes down there, eating her out like a starved man, like it was all he wanted.

And she didn’t know how she was still breathing. There was a relief that ran through her that Dean and Castiel weren’t in the bunker that night, because even though they were shut away in the privacy of their room, she was sure that she would’ve been heard. Sam had been pulling noises out of her all night, obscene lewd sounds that she would’ve been embarrassed about being heard if it wasn’t Sam with her.

He always made sure that as much as he made her feel, none of it was embarrassment.

His tongue flattened against her, licking a stripe up between her folds until he pressed against her clit and she shuddered, a horribly whiny sound pushed from her lungs when he closed his lips around the bead and sucked, like he was trying to pull the life out of her. Her hips jolted, unable to go anywhere as he had her pinned down, and she was practically seeing stars as Sam worked down there. She wondered if he was even breathing.

“Sam- oh my god—” She whimpered, hissed in a breath when he licked back down to her entrance and his nose nudged against her clit, stomach clenching as she reached her hands down to grasp onto his hair, fingers curled into the soft strands.

And then he pulled away.

His hands left her thighs as his mouth left her, but she didn’t have time to whine her complaints at the loss of sensation as his long fingers curled around her wrists, yanked her hands out of his hair. “What did I say, huh?” The tone of voice made her pussy clench around nothing. “Hands to yourself. You’re pretty bad at listening, baby.”

Sam shifted over her, his face over hers as he pushed her wrists down onto the pillows above her head, and she almost squirmed when she saw the look in his eyes, the way his lips were wet with her.

“Are you listening?” He squeezed her wrists as a reminder, and her eyes quickly flickered back up to his eyes. “Do I need to tie you up, or will you keep these here for me?” She knew he wouldn’t hesitate to do it. Sam could be such a soft lover — he’d kiss every inch of her skin, whisper praises and compliments, tell her he loved her a thousand times as he made love to her. But he could also be like this, mean and demanding as he fucked her silly over and over. She wasn’t sure which she liked more.

“I’ll keep them there.” She breathed out, her voice still a little too whiny. He’d gotten her so close to cumming again, the lack of stimulation was driving her crazy, her cunt throbbed as she stared up at him.

“Oh yeah?” Sam narrowed his eyes like he didn’t believe her, and let go of one of her wrists to take both into one of his large hands. Her eyes left his face to follow his second as it dipped down between them, fingering at the waistband of his boxers, until she heard a sharp, “eyes on me.”

Her gaze quickly flickered back up to his face. “See? You can be good sometimes, can’t you?” Sam cooed, boardering on condescending, as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her mouth, allowing her to taste herself. “You just need some reminding, don’t you, sweetheart? Get so lost in that pretty little head of yours when I’m making you feel so good.”

She’d been so distracted by watching his face, head spinning with his words, that she didn’t realise that he’d freed himself from his boxers until she felt the head of his cock nudging between her folds, gliding easily against her with the slick and spit collected there, and she mewled at the feeling, eyes squeezed shut as he nudged at her clit.

“Eyes open,” his hands left her wrists — which she knew now to keep still — and his fingers splayed across her jaw, squeezing unkindly until she looked up again. “Don’t make me tell you again. You wanna be good for me, don’t you?”

She nodded dumbly, sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth as he rubbed her clit with his cock. Teasing her. “Mhm, I will.”

“You will?” Sam gave her jaw one more squeeze, just for good measure, before he wrapped his fingers around the bare skin of her throat. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t put any pressure, just held her, but the threat was there. The head of his cock rested up against her slickened entrance as his head dipped down, lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “what’s your colour?”

They had a pretty rigid safe word system set out — it was something he went over with her every time they had sex, especially like this, when he was mean and grabby and knew that she wouldn’t like it every time. If she so much whispered the word red he’d be up and off of her before she could blink.

But all that left her words was a whiny, “Green, please Sammy.”

She felt his lips curve up against her ear as he smirked. “Good girl.”

Without warning he pushed into her and she sucked in a sharp breath, her own fingers grabbed at each other in an attempt to keep her hands still, and she shoved a breath out of her throat. He’d worked her open with his fingers when he’d been settled down between her legs, but she still felt the stretch, the burn as he settled his cock deep inside of her, and for a moment she had to remember to breathe back in.

“Fuck honey,” he grunted in her ear, fingers gripped her throat just slightly tighter, still only enough for her to feel pressure. “So tight for me, baby. Can barely take it, huh?”

He pulled back before he rutted back inside and she whimpered, squeezing her own fingers together so tightly so she didn’t break his rule. Needing to hold onto him somehow, though, her thighs clamped harshly around his hips, already trembly from the first orgasm he’d pulled from her.

He thrust in again, and again, and again, and soon she saw stars, gasping and whimpering with every drag of his cock against her gummy walls, pleasure rippling through her in waves that made her stomach clench, her cunt clamped down so tightly around him it was a wonder he could move at all.

“So noisy baby,” he crooned on a particular harsh thrust that made her whine, fingers a little tighter around her throat. “Can’t help yourself, can you?” He huffed with another thrust. “Need me to do all the work, hm? Greedy—” he grunted, “greedy girl.”

It took an embarrassingly short time for her to get close again. Sam was fucking her with determination, grunted every time he pushed himself back in, the head of his cock nudged the soft spongey spot inside of her that made her shudder again and again and again until she was a mess beneath him, lewd wet sounds accompanying her whimpers with each shift of his hips, her pussy fluttering around the stretch of his girth.

He didn’t slow down, didn’t ease up, didn’t give her a breather. She was close to tears by the time she was almost there, already sensitive from her first orgasm.

She clenched around him and his fingers, in turn, tightened on the sides of her throat. She trusted him, she knew he wouldn’t push it too far. Just enough for her to feel a little dizzy, for the bliss to wash over her like a high.

“Sam- mm- Sammy—” She was practically blabbering as her eyes filled with tears, gasping with each thrust, each smack of his hips against hers.

“Oh honey,” he cooed, condescending, mean. “Too much, hm? Need something?”

His hand loosened on her throat and she inhaled a little shakily.

“Please—” she whined, blinking through tears up at him. She didn’t miss the flicker in his eyes as the tears dribbled down her cheeks, but she knew that he knew she’d tell him if it was too much. It had happened before, neither of them messed around when it came to their safe words.

“Please what, huh?” He thrust in harshly and she groaned, cunt fluttering, so close— “Ah-ah, not yet. Don’t you need to ask me something, dolly?” He squeezed her throat once. “You remember what happens if you cum without asking, don’t you?”

Of course she did. The week prior she’d cum too soon, and he spent the next what felt like hours edging her, too skilled with his fingers, words too filthy that they made her head spin. He’d made such a mess of her that she hadn’t been able to even get up off of the bed for a little while after he finally let her cum.

“Mhm, mm, yeah—” she inhaled shakily, whining, thighs clamped tighter around his hips. “Please- please can I- please let me—” she groaned.

“Let you what?” He was dragging it out, the fucker, grunting into her ear as he leaned down over her, pushed his cock so deep her vision almost whitened out. “Tell me, honey. Use those words for me, c’mon.”

The tears were bubbling over faster, rolling down her flushed cheeks. “Let me cum, baby, please.”

“Asking so nicely,” he grunted, pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “How can I say no to something so pretty, hm? ‘Course you can, baby, go ahead.”

It wasn’t his words that did it for her, but the hand that snuck between them and pressed down on her stomach, the press of his cock suddenly so much more delicious that she almost fucking fainted.

She came with a breathless whine, hips jerked as she finally gasped a breath and whined again, her cunt throbbed around his cock as he kept pumping, rode her through it entirely. Her head tipped back, his mouth on her neck as her eyes squeezed shut, colours danced on the inside of her eyelids, her own little fireworks display.

Sam came shortly after, groaned into her ear in a way that almost made her cum again, and he rutted into her a few more times before he stopped, warmth spreading through her as he panted against her shoulder.

“Fuck,” he huffed, his own chest heaved, brushing against her bare skin. “Oh sweetheart.” The shift in his demeanour was palpable, soft kisses immediately littered across her shoulder and collarbone, palms flattened to smooth over her sweat-dampened skin. He could be so mean in the moment, so dominating and controlling that he left her a fucking mess underneath him, but afterwards? He’d probably feed her grapes and fan her if she asked him to.

She was still gasping for breath, head spinning, and when she knew she wouldn’t be told off for it her hands lifted, immediately clung to his warm shoulders. She loved the way his shoulders felt underneath her touch, muscles rippling with every movement.

Sam kissed up her throat and jaw before he landed on her mouth, and he kissed her slowly, huffed breaths into each other's mouths as he licked between her lips, sweeped behind her top teeth, their lips both wet with spit.

By the time he had pulled away, he’d so thoroughly kissed her that she almost had her breath back.

“You okay?” His voice was so soft it was like there was an entirely different person on top of her compared to five minutes prior. His hand left her throat, smoothed upwards and cupped her jaw. She felt him thumb away tears that had fallen, some clung to her eyelashes, somewhat cool against her hot and flushed skin.

She nodded as she stroked her fingertips along his shoulders with her fingertips, like she’d committed him to memory. She had.

“Hey,” he lightly tapped her cheekbone with his thumb. “Need words, honey.”

She couldn’t help her smile. He was so caring she sometimes wanted to cry. “M’okay,” she whispered, voice soft like she’d shared a secret. “Really good. You’re so good, Sammy.” She praised, tilted her head to kiss his wrist, and he smiled and blushed like he hadn’t just been the one to fuck the life out of her.

“Says you,” Sam leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re perfect. Love you,” another kiss. “Love you so much.”

She smiled so much her cheeks hurt. “Love you too.”

Sam smiled too, that soft smile that made his dimples peek out, eyes crinkled at the corners, and he stroked her cheekbone again. “M’gonna pull out, okay?”

Only when she nodded did he shift, slowly pulled his hips back until she was empty, until all she could feel was the wetness coated between her thighs.

“Christ, made a mess of you,” he murmured, not in the condescending tone from before, instead something closer to admiration. “You’re so pretty when you cum, y’know that?”

She blushed, hard, and shrugged as her cheek dipped to meet her shoulder.

Sam laughed, rolled his eyes as he leaned in and kissed her again. “Don’t get all shy on me now.”

She was still blushing when he helped her sit up, fingers delicately curled around her elbows to pull her upright, her back also damp with sweat. They’d need to change the sheets.

“Two options,” Sam murmured as he gently stroked hair away that was stuck to her forehead, baby hairs that clung to her temples. “We take a shower and let me wash your hair and then go get food, or you let me run you a bath and you wait there looking all pretty for me while I get you something we can eat in there so I can dote on you.”

“You just wanna wash my hair huh?”

Sam smiled. “Guilty.”

Her fingers found his, intertwined with a squeeze. “Bath sounds nice,” she eventually settled on. “As long as you don’t take too long in the kitchen. I’ll miss you.”

He was laughing when he pressed another kiss to her mouth. “Of course. Promise to not take too long, okay?”

She giggled and nodded, smiled against his mouth when he kissed her again. “Okay.”

[prentissluvr]

something about being close — sam winchester

pairing : s.2!sam winchester x gn!reader, featuring platonic dean ➖⟢ genre : angst, fluff, ➖⟢ cw : sam and reader are lovingly mean to each other, bad insults (weird, stupid, lame), bad jokes, swearing, canon typical violence and ghosts, arguing, so much kissing, could be ooc but idc, edited but most likely still contains a few mistakes, single usage of y/n ➖⟢ wc : 9.5K summary : sam is acting weird, and when it puts people in danger, you can't let it slide (despite the fact that you're totally in love with him).

“hey, check this out,” sam calls to you and dean, not bothering to look up from his computer screen. “think we found our violent spirit.” you part from your own research without a single qualm, resting a hand on the back of sam’s chair as he leans back for you and dean to get a better look. “marissa hancock. she was a student at the college, died a violent death there, just like we thought. it’s thought that the janitor impaled her with his mop while he was working in her dorm hall, but he was never put away for lack of evidence.”

“explains the janitor kabob,” dean quips, already headed to shrug on his jacket. 

“easy solve,” you admit. it only took a solid half hour of searching through records to find the right murder. “but why’s she killing now? she’s had, what?” you lean further over sam’s shoulder to inspect the record, “fifty some years to be killing janitors, why start now?”

“dunno,” sam shrugs, and you can feel his shoulder brush against you, reminding you how close he is. doing your best to stay casual and maybe not stare longingly at his pretty face from this close up, you straighten your back and go to grab your own jacket as sam types away on his keyboard. “looks like her original murderer died two weeks ago.”

“right when the killings started,” dean finishes. “alright, let’s go. you got where she’s buried, sam?”

“yep,” he stands, shutting his laptop. “saint mercy cemetery, not too far.”

“hm,” you laugh out, “second saint mercy cemetery this month. people need to get more creative,” you note as you exit the motel room and head down the short hallway to get to the impala.

“and what would you name a cemetery?” dean asks, ready to catch you off guard or tease you for anything he can get his hands on.

“i should have thought of a clever answer before saying that,” you admit, “but i do wish it were socially acceptable to call them dead people neighborhoods.”

“that’s lame,” sam grins, throwing his arm around your shoulders for just about two seconds before he has to let go to get through the small doorway and outside.

“c’mon,” you complain, “i know it’s kind of lame, and definitely insensitive, but imagine someone just asked you where you’re headed after work and you get to tell them you’re going to the dead people neighborhood. cemetery’s no fun, at least dead people neighborhood is accurate.” you close the back door of the car behind you as you settle in to punctuate your point.

“you’re weird,” sam teases in a matter-of-fact tone, not even looking back from the passenger's seat to see the sneer on your face.

“no, you’re weird,” you fire back.

“alright, kids,” dean interrupts, “enough bickering like we’re four, we’ve got a job to do,” he snickers as he backs the car up.

“okay, dean,” you and sam chime, voices full of mocking and almost totally in sync. dean rolls his eyes hard, because it’s just one of those days where the two of you can’t stop feeding into the antics of the other, regressing the combined mental age of the three of you by at least twenty years. 

having known the brothers since you were kids through bobby, and starting to hunt with them about a year and a half ago, you’ve certainly grown close with the both of them. but a little closer in age, you and sam are nothing but two peas in a pod. and much to dean’s chagrin, that means it only takes a split second for the two of you to switch things up and turn against him when he tries to break up your banter. it’s pretty much all loving argumentation, of course, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t annoying as all hell for whoever has to witness it.

“and for the record, i like dead people neighborhood,” dean offers, ignoring your moment of synchronicity with sam.

“yes!” you celebrate, reaching around the seat in front of you to lightly hit sam’s shoulder. “you’re the lame one, you’re no fun.” 

he scoffs, mumbling something to himself about how, “of course dean likes dead people neighborhood. it’s stupid.”

you resist the urge to tell him that he’s stupid, and instead follow dean’s direction to focus on the case.

“hold on, dean. you should drop me off on campus first, one of us should make sure another janitor doesn’t fall on his mop handle before we can burn the bones,” you suggest.

“no.”

your brow furrows at how fast sam shuts you down, his serious tone a harsh contrast to his practically whiny mumble moments before. you glance at dean to see that he’s got his own eyebrows raised in confusion.

“what’d’you mean, ‘no’?” you question.

“i mean,” he clears his throat as if he’s just realized his strong denial was awkward, “that that could be dangerous alone, so i’ll go and you can stick with dean.”

you send a bewildered look to dean, one he doesn’t catch trying to pay attention to the street name up ahead. “i’m sorry, are you suggesting i can’t handle a measly ghost?” mostly you’re confused by sam’s words, but you can’t help letting a bit of offense slip into your voice.

“n-no, no that’s not what i’m saying,” he fumbles, trying to fix what he said, “i meant– i meant it would be safer for anyone not to go alone. so– so i’ll go with you and dean can stick with burning the body.”

it’s a clumsy, bad save that’s entirely unconvincing.

“you’re seriously gonna stick me with grave digging duty?” dean grunts, “y/n’s right, it’s just one ghost, we don’t need two of us to deal with it. digging up a grave is arguably harder.”

“exactly,” you reason, “which is why i should go scope out the dorm hall, and you should go with dean to the dead people neighborhood.”

“she’s buried in a family mausoleum,” counters sam, “her grave doesn’t need to be dug up, which means it’s a one person job, and since there could be an actual violent ghost in the dorm, two people should go. and don’t try to make dead people neighborhood a thing, at the very least it’s too long, not to mention it’s not funny.”

despite the fact that he’s teasing you, you’re glad to hear something normal come out of his mouth. his hesitancy to let you take on the ghost is odd, especially considering the ghost might not show up at all. it’s not like he’s never been protective of you, it’s in both his and certainly dean’s nature. but he knows full well that you are completely capable of handling one violent ghost, and he’s been weird like this for the past two weeks.

you laugh when you admit, “it wasn’t quite as good in context as i thought it would be, but it wasn’t that bad, i’m just tryna to stick with my bit,” you defend, “and fine, two people at the dorms, one on dead person arson.”

“are you serious?” sam laughs, halfheartedly tossing his head back to give you a judgemental look through the corner of his eye.

“dead serious, pun absolutely intended,” you let out a full laugh at the strangled sigh he lets out. oh how you love to rile him up with bad jokes. “you’re too easy, sam. for that, i’m sticking you on grave duty. dean and i will handle the dorm.”

“you should be on grave duty, for all the bad jokes today,” he argues.

dean practically growls in annoyance, “how about i go on grave duty, so i can get away from your annoying asses.” it’s not a suggestion, and the both of you huff out a sigh, but don’t argue.

dean drops you off a little ways from the dorm hall for you to grab a shotgun and salt rounds with less of a chance of being seen. you leave the other shotgun for dean just in case, bothered that yours is still broken from the last hunt. there hadn’t been enough time to fix it yet. so, you grab an iron rod, hoping to use that before any guns on a college campus. it’d be a sticky situation to get out of, being caught with shotguns in a dorm, and at the very least incredibly inconvenient to scare the hell out of a bunch of college aged kids at eleven pm. sam sticks the shotgun under his jacket, generally hiding it from the view of anyone not looking too closely.

walking a few minutes, you find the right dorm hall and sam hands the gun off to you to pull out his lock pick. but, glancing behind you, you shove the gun back into his hands and yank him into you.

“the hell?” he resists for a split second before you quickly interrupt him.

“shut up! hide the gun and act like you’re piss drunk. someone’s coming,” you hiss. in a swift movement, he tucks the gun back under his jacket as you shimmy the iron rod into your sleeve, then he swings his free arm around you, practically dropping half of his weight on you. “dude,” you complain, before falling into character. “sammy, come on!” you whine loudly. “i can’t reach my id with you like this,” you pretend to feel around for something in your back pocket while keeping him standing, and he immediately picks up on what you’re trying to do. he stumbles forward so that you have to use both hands to keep him upright, and you curse at your false struggle. “help me out here, sammy, will you?” you try to make your voice sound overly desperate, maybe a little innocent too, “why don’t you lean against the wall so we can get inside,” you beg, trusting sam to play his part well.

“nooo,” he slurs, dragging the word out in a whiny pitch, “don’t wanna.” he turns into you and haphazardly wraps his lanky arm all the way around your form, tugging you to him and nearly knocking the both of you over. you feel heat rush to your cheeks at this and desperately remind yourself that he’s only pressing his face into your neck so that he can get a look at the person approaching and keep the shotgun well hidden from view.

you see the girl out of the corner of your eye, young and clearly a student headed for the dorm.

“oh, thank god!” you exclaim, “hey, i’m so sorry to bother you, but do you think you could open the door for us?” you ask as sweetly as you can, pulling your eyebrows together to gain sympathy, before adding on a humorous tone, “my boyfriend is stupid drunk and i can’t get us inside.” you can feel sam stiffen for a split second at your words, and you yourself wonder if you should have just gone the “friend” route for the sake of your own sanity. you’re going to want to keep calling sam your boyfriend, over and over again.

“oh my god, of course,” she laughs goodnaturedly, and you thank the lord she’s laid back, rather than some uptight rule follower ready to report you to administration. she swipes her id and holds the door open for you, and as you struggle into the building, you think that sam is making this harder for you than it has to be. but there’s absolutely no denying you love the way it feels to just have him all over you, even for the sake of illegally entering a building with a gun.

“thank you so much,” your voice is one big sigh of relief, slightly muffled by the fabric of sam’s jacket.

“yeah, don’t worry about it,” she smiles, “you two are super cute, by the way,” she compliments before turning towards the stairs and waving a kind goodbye.

you do your best to not stumble over your words as you thank her, heat once again rising to your face, and you’re sure that sam can feel the warmth of your neck. body stiff, you turn and head down the hallway in the opposite direction, sam still clinging to you until it’s clear.

“alright, get off, you big dork,” you snort, gently pushing him away and doing your best to regain your composure to proceed as if you don’t have a massive crush on him. “did ya have to make it so hard for me?”

he shrugs with a sly grin, “had to make it convincing, didn’t i? besides, it was your idea, you don’t get to complain.”

you stick your tongue out at him and he raises his eyebrows as if to say, “really?”

“she was really nice,” you note, voice almost wistful in a way that sam easily picks up on. about a year into hunting with the brothers and dean was off buying food, you and sam had collapsed onto a motel bed together as you had many times before by then, both exhausted after a long case. that night, as you spoke in tired, hushed tones, with no need for anyone but the other to hear your words, you had somehow ended up with your head resting on his biceps and one of his legs swung over yours. 

that’s the night you told him you were jealous that he got to go to college, even if it wasn’t for long. you’d told him how you liked the idea of that life, even if you had to return to hunting after it was over. you wanted friends your age, to learn, go to stupid parties and have a college partner. you knew the experience wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies, but you wanted it anyway. he’d said, sure, it wasn’t perfect, but it was a hell of a lot better than hunting in his opinion. he wanted you to have that. once this was all over, and you both got justice for your families, he’d help you apply, make sure you got in somewhere, maybe even go with you. a hush fell over the room and he knew you weren’t convinced.

“yeah, she was,” he says, his own voice a touch more gentle than moments ago. “we were lucky.” he doesn’t want to tell you that most college kids would be at least cool enough to let you inside, maybe not as friendly as her, but that it’s true you’d like it here. he doesn’t want to remind you of what you can’t have. 

a silence falls over the two of you, punctuated only by the shuffling of your feet or the rustle of clothes. it’s comfortable and easy because you’ve done it a million times before. you don’t have to say anything to agree that you’ll head to the basement where the original murder occured. the both of you stay quiet and light on your feet, sam always peering around corners before rounding them.

in the basement he stops you with a simple finger to his lips. he leans in close to whisper as quietly as he can, “janitor’s here.”

you resist the urge to call said janitor an idiot, because who the hell is going to be cleaning an area in which three of your coworkers have mysteriously died in the past two weeks, but you just nod instead, taking in the way that sam’s eyes look under the dim light.

“wanna wait around til dean calls or warn him?” you ask, equally as quiet. he turns his head to look back around the corner before continuing.

“well, we should warn him, but we can’t use the drunk ruse on an employee. he probably has a radio scanner on him, might even be connected to campus security,” he points out.

“fbi?”

“we look too much like college kids right now,” he reasons.

“right,” you agree, “well then, stupid college kids trying to see a murder scene? we’ll link arms and you can hide the gun behind your back. just so we’re near him til dean burns the bones. hopefully nothing’ll even happen.” it’s as if you jinxed it all in that moment, as the lights immediately begin to flicker, the buzz of electricity filling your ears and a sudden chill filling the air. “nevermind,” you curse, flicking the iron rod back into your hand and barging around the corner, only a hair behind sam.

“way to jinx it,” he grunts.

you just scoff and beg him, “just try not to use the gun.” this time neither of you attempt to hide your presence as your shoes pound against the tile floor.

“no promises,” sam says, the gun up and loaded in front of him.

“what the hell?” the janitor barely has the time to exclaim before he’s thrown against the wall.

“i got it,” you warn sam, eager to avoid gunshots and sprinting full speed towards the apparition, iron rod in front of you. you throw all your weight into reaching the ghost of the young girl before she can flicker out of reach. the iron in your hand makes contact, and she evaporates for the time being. unfortunately for you, your momentum keeps you going, through the space the ghost just occupied and straight into the section of the floor slick with soapy water. with no time to gain any semblance of your balance, you slip and come crashing to the ground. your back hits the floor and the wind gets knocked out of your lungs in the same moment that the iron skitters out of your hand.

you struggle a bit to sit up due to the wetness underneath you, gasping slightly and letting curses fall from your mouth the moment you can speak again.

in a split second reaction, sam shouts your name, his voice inappropriately taught and worried for such a silly accident. he’s by your side in an instant, strong hands pulling you up and his anxious voice asking if you’re alright. you wave him off easily, unconcerned for yourself.

“help him,” you urge, “i’m fine.” but he doesn’t back off nearly as easily as you’d think.

“are you sure, did you hit your head? you couldn’t breathe for a second there,” his hands stay glued to you as he rattles off his concerns, ones that you find utterly unnecessary and unhelpful considering the fact that you’re fine, and the ghost could reappear any second. his strong grip keeps you from bending down to scoop up the iron rod, but you have to wrench yourself away from him when you hear a strangled cry come from the janitor. he whirls around with you to see the ghost with her hands around the janitor’s neck, crushing him against the wall as his feet dangle just above the floor. the iron rod is back in your hand in an instant, but sam’s shotgun lays abandoned on the floor a few feet away.

he dives for the weapon, but with a flick of the ghost’s hand, he’s knocked against the wall with a noise so loud it hurts to hear. before she can pay you attention, you fling the iron towards her, vaporizing her once more. the iron clatters to the ground as the janitor collapses to his knees. you rush towards him, pulling him away from the wall before tugging a container of salt from your jacket’s inside pockets. apologetically, you haul the poor man to his feet, throwing a quick look over your shoulder at sam. he’s groaning painfully, but already moving to get back up. 

knowing he’s easily survived worse, you turn your attention back to the janitor, who’s sputtering out confused and incoherent questions about what in the goddamn hell is happening.

“just stay there,” you urge him, too pressed for time to add adequate sympathy to your tone. “stay in the circle and she can’t get you.” with practiced ease, you shake the salt onto the ground with barely enough to make a small, solid ring around the man.

you scoop up the gun from the ground, then turn to help sam onto his feet. “we’re gonna have to tough this out til dean gets done,” is all you say when you place the weapon into his hands, despite the urge to ask what the hell is wrong with him and why he’s so off his game. you turn to grab your own weapon, but it seems the ghost is reappearing faster and faster. this time, you’re the one who gets tossed into the wall, but you stay pressed against the cold surface as a mop flies to meet you, the long handle pushing against your throat and cutting off your air supply. you take in a strangled gasp, hands clawing at the old wooden handle and giving yourself a few splinters that you couldn’t care less about in the moment. of course, it doesn’t budge.

the second you’re flattened against the wall, sam shouts your name again, this time with his gun in the air, swinging around to get a shot at the ghost. but before he can react, it flies out of his hand and she reappears right in front of him, pushing him against the wall across from you.

he struggles against her wildly, his hand itching to get free of her hold to reach the hidden iron knife in his pocket. but before he can get there, her grip weakens and she lets out a strangled scream as she bursts into flames. the flames climb up her old fashioned pencil skirt and swallow up the bloody wound in her abdomen. her grip on you and sam falters as she burns away, then dissolves completely as the last of her ashes fade out into the musty basement air.

you drop to your knees, coughing and gasping for breath as the sound of the mop clattering to the floor echoes through the hallway. sam’s saying your name, half through a cough and his voice still so worried as he stumbles towards you. then he’s on his knees too and his hands are sturdy on your shoulders.

“‘m fine,” you rasp out, hand reaching for his bicep to ground you to something solid and steady. he stays right there, completely ignoring the poor man who’s still practically frozen in fear in the tiny circle of salt and the ringing of his phone. one of his hands slips around you to rub soothing strokes up and down your back and it brings you even closer to him, your forehead dipping to rest on his shoulder. you feel silly for how much he’s fussing over you, but you can’t quite scold or question him until you’ve caught your breath. clearly something is bothering him (and you want him so bad), so you let him hold you close.

“are you hurt anywhere?” he finally asks once he feels your breathing even out under his touch. 

you pull away from him gently, shaking your head before verbally confirming, “no, i’m alright sam. nothing more than your typical bumps and bruises.” your voice is a touch raspy from the pressure on your throat, but it’s nothing that won’t go away with some water and rest, maybe some tea if really necessary.

his hands stay on you as he stands. “are you sure?” he asks, and you can’t figure out why on earth, heaven, or hell he’s so overly concerned about you. frankly, it’s starting to worry you. and definitely annoy you. all the sudden he’s acting like you’re fragile, like you can’t take care of yourself. things which he should know for a fact aren’t true.

he lets you slip away from his hold as you swoop down to pick up your lost weapons and face the poor janitor.

“sorry about that all. you can step out of the salt now.” he looks at you as if he can’t be sure, and your tone softens a bit. he’s young, probably just a college kid himself. “she’s really gone this time, i promise. you won’t ever have to worry about her again. though, i wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to look for a different job.”

he nods and thanks you, and you tell him to repay the favor by not mentioning you and sam. then, at a pace you certainly can’t blame him for, he scurries away.

“c’mon,” you nod to sam, “we should get out of here. you should also call dean back. he’s probably worried you didn’t answer.” with that, you turn back in the direction of the stairs without looking back at sam, rolling your eyes when your own cell ring. you pick up with a, “we’re fine, dean,” before he can even ask why the hell it took you so long to answer him. he lets out a sigh, half relieved, half annoyed. 

“what took ya so long?” he asks anyway.

“had a few bumps in the road since little miss janitor-killer showed up, but we’re fine. neither of us are hurt. would’ya pick us up in the same spot you left us?”

“yeah, ‘course. already on my way, see you crazy kids in five.” with that, he hangs up and you don’t have to glance over your shoulder to feel sam following behind. it’s all just the familiarity of his footsteps, the sound they make, and the pace at which he walks. it’s the particular rustle of his favorite jacket, soft and scratchy sounding all at once. it’s the feeling of his tall figure, his broad chest so close behind you that he’d run right into you if you stopped even for a moment. you debate whether to ask him what the hell is up now or at the motel. for now, the priority is getting out unnoticed, so you clench your jaw a bit and continue in silence because you’re beginning to feel a little angry with him. you think he can feel it, so he stays quiet too, all the way out the dorm and down the street to wait for dean.

it’s not uncommon to be quieter after a hunt is finished because you’re all usually tired and more often than not achey from some toss around or another. but sam can tell there’s something else bothering you tonight. from the way you tilt your shoulder away from him, the distance so nearly imperceptible that only he would notice, he’s willing to bet that he’s that something. and though he doesn’t want to admit it, he thinks he knows why. he just won’t be the first one to say something about it because he’s stubborn, a little prideful, and most of all, too afraid to explain why he’s acting this way.

even so, he just can’t help himself. he hovers near, so near that once you’re settled by the side of the road, you can feel him without actually touching him. you’re tempted to nudge him away, just because of how overprotective he’s acting. you’re also tempted to lean back into his chest because somehow you know his hands wouldn’t waste a second in gathering you up and keeping you closer than ever before. it starts to rain a little bit, soft and almost unnoticable if it weren’t for the new chill in the air. for a moment, you can feel one hand hover over your waist, just for a second before there’s a light swish of fabric when it falls back to his side. you wonder if he’s worried about you getting too cold.

you hear dean before you see him, the rumble of the impala coming into earshot moments before its headlights appear around the corner. the car slows as it nears you, pulling to the side of the road with the front windows down and some classic rock guitar riff filtering into your ears. the music’s quieter than you know it was just moments ago from when dean was alone. he greets you two with a simple, “hey,” once he’s fully stopped and you place your hand out, palm up and wordlessly asking for sam to hand you the rifle to put in the trunk.

“i got it,” he says, not waiting for you to argue when he takes the iron from the loose grip of your fist and makes his way to the trunk. you slide into the back seat behind the passengers side and return dean’s greeting.

he twists in his seat to watch you as you close your eyes and massage your shoulder with a wince. it’s beginning to become more sore, just like all the rest of your body.

“you okay?” he asks, voice full of his normal gruffness that tells you cares enough to ask but knows not to be too worried.

you open your eyes back up to give him a nod. “‘m fine. just the usual ghost beat down. y’know, bumps and bruises.”

“mm, sure do,” he agrees, “so what? dearly departed marissa thought you were janitors?” he asks skeptically. you hear the slam of the trunk, and moments later sam’s settling into his seat in front of you.

“no,” you scoff, “some idiot kid was actually cleaning down there. told ‘im to get a new job,” you snort humorlessly.

“well, i’ll say,” dean raises his eyebrows in agreement before twisting back to face the wheel. he sneaks a look between you and sam before switching the car out of park and getting back on the road. for a few minutes, all you hear is the muted music, the constant roll of the engine, the light patter of rain on the metal roof, and the road under the tires. then dean switches off the music. “anything happen back there that i should know about?” he ventures.

“no,” sam answers casually, “nothing, just the usual.” you don’t even answer. you just can’t figure out if you should involve dean, tell him how sam was unthinking and almost entirely uncaring about the innocent civilian involved, all because he was so worried about you.

“alright,” dean concedes, glancing at you through the rearview mirror and sounding entirely unconvinced. he doesn’t turn the music back on, just lets the silence reign, so you close your tired eyes and lean your head against the cold glass of the window. you’ve fallen asleep in the back of the impala countless times before, but your drowsiness doesn’t take over this time in favor of letting your mind wander over what to say to sam. you can’t just let it be, and tonight is certainly the worst it’s gotten. plus, it’s an easy habit for you to wait for sleep when you’re already so close to the motel. 

when dean pulls into the parking lot, he doesn’t turn off the engine. “gonna grab some grub. i’ll be back in a bit with the usual.”

“grab me something for dessert, will ya? ‘m craving something sweet,” you request, leaning towards the driver’s seat. 

“sure thing,” he nods, and you slide out of the car and close the door after a thank you and tired smile. “anything for you, sammy?” you hear him ask.

“i’m good, just the regular,” sam responds as he exits the car. you unlock the motel door, and he’s inside the room just a moment later, closing and locking the entrance behind him. you stand facing away from him at the shitty table, your jacket already strewn across the back of a chair. you can hear him behind you, going through his routine movements. he’s taking off his jacket, setting it down on the edge of the bed. then he’s pulling comfier clothes out from his pack.

“you wanna shower first?” he offers, breaking the silence of the room. you can feel his gaze on your back.

“sure,” you swallow, “thanks,” you say without any sort of edge to your voice.

“‘f course,” he says, and he means that. his eyes follow you as you pull out your own change of clothes, just a tshirt and sweats, and make your way to the dingy bathroom. you’re tired, so you’re quick with it, but the water’s already lukewarm by the time you’re done. you dry off and dress quick, eager to lay in bed.

and yet, when sam takes your place in the bathroom and the sounds of the shower start up again, you sit at the table instead, picking out a few splinters in your hands before folding your arms and resting your head against them. you stay that way, even when you hear the water turn off, the bathroom door open, his heavy footfalls that are only heavy because he’s so tall and not for lack of gentleness, then the scraping of the chair across from you. he doesn’t even say a thing, just looks at the top of your head and the tip of your nose. the shape of your hands, the point of your elbows, and the curve of your back.

with a deep breath and some pain in your neck, you lift your head. you look back at him and slump your chin into your palm.

“i’m upset with you,” you state.

he frowns. even his frown is pretty. “i know,” he sighs.

“so? why are you acting like this?” your voice is tired, but you still manage to infuse accusation into your tone, “sam, why are you suddenly acting like i can’t take care of myself out there? you’ve been weird for nearly two weeks now, and i don’t like it. i don’t like this.”

sam doesn’t know how to respond. he’s used to being yelled at, shouted at, angry at. he’s used to yelling and shouting and getting angry back. and though he’s certainly fought with you before, he’s still not used to the level tone and the way you say each word so slow, like you’re not actually arguing. just upset and rightfully a little angry, like you just want to understand. 

sure, he can hear the plain anger in your voice. you’re not trying to hide it. but you’re not yelling. how’s he supposed to use the heat of the moment to shout back, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” or “i’m just trying to help,” when there is no heat in the moment? instead, he’s embarrassed and the only answer he can come up with, the only one that he can mean if he answers in that same, level tone you’re using is, one he’s having too much trouble saying aloud. any other answer would just be too wrong like that. or maybe if you were shouting, he’d tell you the truth, because he could yell it out, loud and rash without thinking about it. if he says it now, it’s not because he just let it slip. if he says it now, there’s no way to take it back, to get around everything threatening to bubble over the surface like forgotten water on a heated stove.

“i don’t think that you can’t take care of yourself. i know you can,” is all he says, because it’s true and it skirts around the real questions. his voice is rough, halfway between pleading and holding back from the anger he doesn’t yet know how to control. you heave a sigh.

“so why, sam? why?” you let the heavy question stew for a moment, then go on when he doesn’t even meet your gaze, “or, i don’t know, if you’re not gonna tell me, just promise me you’ll stop?”

he clenches his jaw because he knows he can’t. he just wishes you would shout. then, he’d tell you. he can imagine the words coming out of his mouth, but only if they’re loud, only if you’ve pressured him to do it. he realizes that’s probably fucked up. but the other way is too vulnerable, too vast of a leap to take to when he’s just not sure.

“sam,” you press, “you don’t have to worry about me, i swear. i don’t understand what’s got you like this, but it’s getting in the way of you being able to do your job right. that kid could have died because all you could do was worry about me,” that’s when you begin you raise your voice, just a little. because that’s what’s making you most upset about this. you hate it ‘cause you feel like he’s doubting your abilities as a hunter, but you hate it even more because it’s making him disregard the safety of others and of himself, for you. “sam, i only slipped. sure i got the wind knocked out of me, but you dropped your gun for that? frankly, that was stupid. and the poor kid was being choked, and if i hadn’t been lucky enough to throw the iron before she could react, he could have died. i need you to understand that. i need you to understand that i can do this job, that i’m strong enough, and that if you don’t trust me with that? people could die. and i’m not about to let that happen. so either you tell me what’s up and we figure it out, or you stop and i pay you the huge favor of just dropping the whole thing, okay?”

suddenly he looks all sad. “i do trust you,” he says, voice all sincerity and nothing more.

you close your eyes for a moment, half in frustration and half because you could really use some shut eye right about now. “that’s not– well, it is. it is part of the point. but i need an answer from you, i need you to tell me you won’t let whatever this is put somebody else in danger.”

he clenches his jaw. he’s still stuck. you still haven’t shouted.

“just spit it out. i can practically see something rolling around on the tip of your tongue. just say it, sam.”

there’s an edge to your voice, so maybe he can.

“i can’t lose you.”

there it is. it’s said with an edge, too, like he wanted to shout it but couldn’t. it’s said rough and a little bit angry and full of this undying faithfulness and yes, love. 

but you still don't quite understand it, so it makes you sigh. it makes your eyes soften a bit and it makes you a little angrier than before. it makes you want him to mean that with all his chest and it makes you want to shake him hard until he comes to his senses.

“that’s always been a danger, ever since we met. you know that,” your voice is something so oddly gentle in its frustration, “sammy, you’re my best friend, and i can’t lose you either. hell, i don’t think the words “best friend” even begin to cover the depth of how much i care about you. but we’ll both be safer if we trust each other, if we trust in both of our abilities to keep ourselves and the other safe. tell me that you understand that.”

it takes him a minute to speak again, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he searches for what to say. “two weeks ago,” is all he manages at first. you try to think back to it, and it immediately dawns on you. “i couldn’t prote–”

“sammy, no,” you interrupt, “that wasn’t your fault, okay? i know this doesn’t help to say, but we can’t always protect each other perfectly, to the extent we really want. i’d do anything for you, sammy, you know that.” after that there’s supposed to be a “but” where you explain to him that you can’t let that get in the way of your thinking straight and keeping everyone safe. instead, those last words just hang, suspended and weighty in the air.

“but you could’ve been killed,” the way he says your name is almost desperate. “it was dean that saved you. i was there and i couldn’t even help. what if next time, dean isn’t there? what if–,” his voice breaks, and he effectively cuts himself off from finishing the sentence. you know what he was trying to say.

any answer you give to that, you know isn’t enough. “but i wasn’t killed, sam. i’m here. i’m right here and i’m alive and i’m well and i don’t want to spend all my time worrying about you worrying about me. not like this.” you let that sit for a moment or two, and though his eyebrows are still all sad and pinched together, you think you’re starting to get through to him.

“but i can’t lose you,” he repeats stubbornly.

“sam,” you’re practically begging at this point, frustration creeping back into your voice, “the best way for you to keep me safe from ghosts and monsters and everything else is to take care of the problem, efficiently and effectively, like we always do. if there’s no monster, it can’t hurt me. but if you drop your weapon just because i slipped on soapy floors and lost my breath for a second? then it’s not just you and whatever innocent bystander around who’s more vulnerable now, it’s me too. so if that’s what it’s gonna take for me to convince you to stop fussing over me, then, please, think about it like that.”

sam is smart. he loves logic and reason, and you’ve handed him just that. but even more than that, he loves you. in the end, that trumps all.

“but i love you.”

he says it like a plea. like he didn’t mean to say it at all but it was the only thing running through his mind, and therefore, the only thing running off his tongue.

“sammy,” you breathe out, and then it’s like there’s no more air for you to breathe back in. that sweet nickname of his coming out of your mouth, resting on your tongue before tumbling into the air, is half like a drug to him, half like a bitter wind to sober him up quick.

“i– i only meant that i–,” he meant just that and now it’s said and now he’s never going to take it back, even if you hate him for it. “i meant that,” he says it firm and true this time, “i love you, so i can’t lose you.”

the way he looks at you, right into your eyes like they’re the prettiest things he’s ever seen, like you’re the best thing he’s ever had, oh, it has you hooked like bait has a fish who bit down too hard. it has you praying he never looks at anybody else like that again. it has you rising out of your seat and it’s pulling you across the small, wobbly table. he’s wedged into the grooves of your heart, so deep it could kill you to pull him out, so you follow the tug and he leans in too so the line isn’t so taught, so that it’s easy and comfortable and beautiful to reach his lips. 

his hands are like a net that catches you up in big, lovely swaths. they travel from your own hands, that lean against the table to keep your lips pressed to his, up to your elbows and then he knows he can never get enough. so he pushes up out of his own seat, drags his hands further up your arms until they can wrap around your biceps and push you up. not for a moment does he let his lips leave yours as he stands and pulls the both of you away from the table until he can bring you close, right into his wide, warm chest. then his hands can roam, gentle over your sensitive back, up to your neck then the back of your head to push your face into his. the other hand gets to go from your waist to your hips, or dip to the small of your back and press you flush to him.

you can only get away from him for a second, just enough time to whisper, “i love you, too,” before he swallows you back up. you melt right into him, and he loves it so much, but he feels how tired you are and he remembers he is too. so he only kisses you for a minute longer before letting your head rest on his shoulder. without any reservation, he presses a long kiss to your temple and you sigh a sweet sigh into his worn out tshirt.

unwilling to let go, he waddles with you, all bundled up into his arms, to the edge of the bed. without warning, he collapses into it, taking you right down with him and pulling out a little shriek from your mouth that he finds to be nothing short of endearing. he laughs, a belly laugh that you can feel the vibrations of as it moves up into his chest and out of those pretty lips of his. with some struggle to readjust yourself, you press a sweet peck to those lips. another easy i love you.

then you collapse back into his hold and the low quality plush of the motel bed. “now promise me you’ll pull yourself together next time we get a case?” this time your ask is so much more lighthearted, sweeter because it’s mumbled into the skin of his arm. you mean it just as much, but you can’t help the fact that you feel like you’re floating, “now i really, really can’t have you getting us in trouble. i’ll need to be able to kiss you at any given moment, so you have to promise me that you’ll trust me to take care of myself. because it works, and you know it. it’s the safest way. for both of us.”

the sigh he heaves can be felt through practically your whole body. it’s heavier than you wish it’d be, but he relaxes against you just a bit more. “i know,” he relents, “i’ll do my best, okay?”

“thank you,” you breathe out, too relieved to care that he couldn’t quite promise. you know this all means he’ll just be more protective of you, but you can say the same for yourself. now that you’ve kissed him and he’s told you he loves you and you’ve said it back, right against his lips, you’ll worry about him extra. but the both of you know the best ways to keep each other alive, and that has to be enough for you. you allow yourself to snuggle closer into him before joking, “d’you think dean’s ever gonna come back?”

you feel sam’s quiet laugh more than you hear it. “yeah, he really did us a favor with that one, didn’t he?” you can hear the smile in his voice before he remembers himself, “do not tell him i said that.” having you in his arms like this has got him a little giddy, saying things aloud that he normally wouldn’t.

letting out a laugh of your own, you promise, “i won’t. but i’m starting to get hungry. maybe we should call him and tell him the coast is clear, we didn’t tear the room to shreds or anything like that.”

sam chuckles again, and you decide very quickly that you like the way it feels for him to laugh with you so close. neither of you move, not to get a phone to call dean or to stop yourselves from growing drowsy. not for anything.

you’re half asleep when you hear the familiar sound of the impala’s engine near the room. it turns off, then comes the sound of its front door being open and shut. just because you’re hungry and it spells the arrival of food, you force your eyes open and let out a groan when you wiggle your arms out of sam’s hold to stretch. the way his hands shift to your waist as you do so has you a bit flustered and you wonder if you’re supposed to pretend in front of dean that you haven’t spent the last half hour kissing and cuddling. but sam doesn't seem to care, because he just sits up when the door’s lock clicks, one hand by your head to hold him up, the other still settled decidedly on your waist. so you decide not to care either, and turn your head around to accidentally grin at dean when he peeks his head through the door. you had meant to look casual, but the second someone else becomes a witness to the fact that you’re laying together like this, you’re beaming.

dean visibly relaxes when he takes in the sight, pushing the door all the way open to walk in, then lock the door back up behind him.

“hey, there,” is all he says, shooting the both of you a look that says, really, you’re just gonna keep sitting there like that in front of me? it’s not that bad, but he’s allowed to tease because he just turned a twenty minute food trip into an hour purely for yours and sam’s sake. you clear your throat awkwardly, and only when you sit up does sam’s hand fall away from you.

you pad over to the table as dean places the paper bag of fast food on the surface. he drags over an extra mismatched chair and sam follows close behind you, pulling the remaining chair to sit beside you. as you begin to pull food out from the bag, now clearly gone cold to the touch, dean sits down, complaining that they didn’t have pie, so he bought you two cookies for dessert instead.

“well, thank you for the food anyways,” you smile, hoping he picks up on the fact that you’re thanking him for the other thing too, “damn shame there was no pie, though,” you say, more for his sake than yours. you wonder why he didn’t just pick some up from somewhere else since he was gone so long.

“mhmm, and don’t sweat about the pie. just got a slice somewhere else,” he shrugs, “ate it in the car, there was only one slice left and i didn’t want you to feel like you were missing out,” he explains with that familiar teasing edge which makes you think he indeed caught onto the double meaning of your thanks. you let out a small huff of laughter before tearing into the food, only now realizing just how hungry you are. you’d felt it creep up on you on the car ride back, smiled at the mention of food from dean, even stupidly thought about it during a quiet moment in the argument with sam. but the second your lips found his, that was the only hunger you’d felt. to keep kissing him, to keep him close, keep him loving you. only when you settled all the way into his arms, sure that you’d be able to satiate that hunger again, could your body remember you hadn’t eaten since early this afternoon.

the three of you eating like this, late at night and without much conversation, is common and comfortable. dean is on what you assume to be his second burger, because there’s no way he’d have just sat in the car, probably parked in a random lot and wondering how long he should be gone, and just waited to eat an extra-bacon burger until he came back. sam’s nearly the same as always, too, but tonight he sits so close that his forearm brushes against yours. you bump elbows or knees every so often, and the side of his socked foot is pressed against yours the entire time.

you sigh, content with the nearness of him that’s so much more complete and full than it was just hours ago. now, there’s no need to hover. now, you can just swoop in and land, take what you want, give what the other needs.

dean makes no teasing comments, but you can feel the way he’s been examining, reading the two of you. you’re not sure if you’re supposed to say something aloud, but you know that he knows the two of you so well that he understands almost exactly what must’ve happened while he was gone. maybe he’s not teasing because this is the outcome he wanted to come back to. he probably knows better than the both of you how you were crushing, pining even, over the other.

he takes his turn in the shower when he finishes his food, and you and sam begin to clean up a few minutes later. once all the trash is crumbled up and tossed away, you go around and turn off all the lights but a single bedside lamp. as you turn away from clicking off the lamp in the corner of the room, sam’s right there in front of you. you don’t have the time to be startled by him sneaking up on you, he’s so quick to cup your face with his hands and slot his lips against yours. he lingers a long moment before pulling apart just enough to rest his forehead on yours.

“gonna kiss you forever,” he whispers, and you realize you’ve turned this giant man into a complete and utter sap. 

“you better.” your grin is wide and real and he can almost feel your lips moving, he’s so close. just as you’re ready to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him hard, the steady white noise of the shower shuts off. you sigh and laugh a little, leaning in to steal one more chaste kiss before brushing past him. but he turns with you, hands still warm on your cheeks and not letting go until he’s kissed you once more.

when dean’s gone from the bathroom, sam follows you in to brush his teeth with you. you’ve done so plenty of times, but tonight, sam gets to loop his free arm around your waist and pull you into him, rather than stand shoulder to shoulder in the cramped space. he gets to make you giggle through toothpaste when he does so, and you get to switch your toothbrush to your other hand and wrap your own arm around his waist, too. he gets to make you laugh dangerously harder when he tightens his hold on you to prevent you from bending and spitting into the sink when you’re done. you try to hold back the laughter with your mouth full of toothpaste, then he’s the one laughing around his toothbrush because there’s white, foamy spit rolling down your chin from the corner of your mouth and threatening to drip to your dark-colored tshirt. of course, he lets you spit and rinse your mouth, relishing in the continued sound of your laughter.

“you asshole! almost ruined my shirt til the next time we make a laundry stop!” you take revenge as he rinses out his own mouth, splashing the running water onto his face as he swishes water around in his mouth. 

he spits the water out in surprise and sputters an indignant, “hey!” before he bursts into laughter again.

you’re both giddy, high off of kissing each other, and silly from the exhaustion of a hunt, so he tugs you into him by your hips and keeps laughing into the crook of your neck. you wrap your arms around his neck and thread your fingers up through his soft, newly washed hair. you kiss the closest thing you can reach and he melts right into your arms.

it’s only when you yawn that he pulls away from you. “we should get to bed, huh?”

you nod and twist towards the door, peeking through it to see dean sleeping in his bed, his still form highlighted by the warm light of the cheap lamp. taking sam’s hand with a shy smile, you lead him to the other bed, turning off the last light and climbing under the covers with him not far behind. he loops his arm under your head, then the other over your waist to splay his hand flat across the small of your back. the way he does it is exactly the way you wished he would, as if he’s thought about holding you like this every night you share a bed, just as you had. with a final glance towards dean, he kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

you try to stifle the giggle that the soft, ticklish contact of his lips wants to pull from your chest, praying that dean is really as asleep as he looks. the both of you stiffen a bit when you hear dean’s blankets rustling, but you let out another breathy, quiet laugh when it goes silent again.

sam’s about to kiss you all over again when dean’s voice rings out into the hush of the night, startling you both.

“no shenanigans while i’m asleep, lovebirds,” he grunts.

that brings more laughter out of your lips and a rush of heat to your face that you’re sure sam feels, too. he just groans in annoyance at his brother, because of course dean had to get in at least one borderline dirty comment. neither of you really answer as dean shifts around in his bed again, likely turning his back to you and mumbling something mostly unintelligible. 

the only word you can catch is “finally.”

[mxltifxnd0m]

heat wave ࿔ s. winchester

summary: heat waves suck in the bunker

pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem! reader

word count: 1.7K

warnings: no use of y/n, not beta'd, fluff, complaining about heat, nudity, suggestive content, one or two dirty jokes

a/n: i made a post about complaining about this heat wave that is happening in my area and decided to write about it. this was intended to be a blurb but it spiraled out of my control LMAO

(also i haven't posted this frequently in like... ever LOL. so please say thank you to sam winchester for being my muse)

please reblog and lmk your thoughts and opinions!! i wanna hear what you guys thought about the fic!

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You hated the heat. Nope. Scratch that you loathed the heat. Despite growing up in hotter climates, you never grew to like the heat. You can tolerate it, but you've always preferred the colder months, where you can layer all you want and get warm and cozy.  

But with summer, there was so much you could wear until you were almost naked.  

The bunker could only do much to keep out the heat during the summer and keep the heat in when winter rolled around. An unexpected heat wave hit Lebanon, and since the bunker didn't have any AC or windows, it was practically hell on earth in the bunker.

Sam and Dean were out on a hunt, and you were stuck in the bunker due to having a nasty run-in with a witch that left you concussed and bruised ribs. They said the hunt was a quick salt and burn a state over, so they would be back in a few days. But in the few days they were gone, the heat became almost unbearable.

You spent the past few days stripped down to a bra and the shortest PJ shorts you had. You would have strolled around the bunker naked, but you were a little paranoid that Sam and Dean would come home early, and you didn't want to give Dean a free show. The amount of water that you had drunk could be considered criminal, but you managed to sweat most of it.

You even went out and bought multiple box fans for the library, war room, kitchen, and your bedroom (To hell with your boyfriend and Dean's bedroom. They could buy a fan for themselves.) because you could barely stand the stifling heat that managed to worm its way into the bunker.

The heat had gotten to the point where you were sprawled out on your back, starfish styled on the cool tiles of the shower room. This was your only saving grace in this place (and taking cold showers right before you went to sleep). When the tiles below you would get warm and sticky, you would just shuffle (drag) your body slightly to another patch of cold tiles.

You were so focused on cooling down your hot body that you didn't hear Sam calling for you when he couldn't find you in your room. He and Dean eventually found you on the shower floor.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dean's voice echoed off of the shower room walls.

"Finding reprieve from this god-awful heat." You sat up on your elbows to see Sam and Dean standing in the doorway, uncaring of your state of undress. Being a hunter and getting injured in inconvenient places had left you topless in front of the boys plenty of times and vice versa, so it left no room for modesty.

"This bunker doesn't have any AC or windows, and this heat wave has been terrible. You guys need to fix that." You said before sliding back down and moving to a patch of cool tile.

Sam's chuckling made you smile despite the heat. "Considering this bunker was built in the 30s, they didn't exactly have to worry about heat waves or AC."

Your smile dropped as you scowled at Sam's words. "I hate global warming. Also, how are the two of you not sweating your balls off yet?" You had noticed that they were wearing their flannels.

"We just got back and spent the past 10 minutes trying to find you. Safe to say we haven't spent much time in the bunker to feel the heat."

"Well, you're about to Deanie-boy, be prepared to strip." You went to take a sip of water from the bottle you had brought with you, only to find that it was empty.

"You would love to see that wouldn't you."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before." You said before getting up from the floor with a slight groan.

"Besides, I'd prefer to see a strip tease from a different Winchester." You winked at Sam as you walked in between the boys, giving his ass a quick tap as you left the shower room and headed toward the kitchen to refill your water bottle.  

About two and a half hours later, the heat had gotten to the boys, and they were stripped down to their boxers, trying to survive. Dean ended up stealing one of the fans you bought and stashed it in his room, but even then, the fans were just blowing around the warm air that was in the bunker.

When it came time to eat dinner, you guys quickly got dressed because none of you wanted to spend another second in the hot bunker. The cool night air was like a healing balm over the heat wave as you guys found a diner that also had outside seating. After you guys were done eating, Dean drove the three of you around for a while with the windows down in the Impala, not wanting to go back to the stifling hot bunker.

You guys got back home at eleven o'clock, and the temperature in the bunker got significantly better, but it was still uncomfortably warm. You all headed to different bathrooms to shower off the stickiness that the three of you were already feeling.

You took your time in the cold water, not wanting to leave it just yet, but you eventually left the shower once your skin acclimated to the water and started to feel warm to you. You wrapped yourself in a towel and made your way to your room.

Once you made it to your room, you turned on your fan, cranked it to the highest setting, and dropped your towel. You didn't bother with any clothes or getting under the covers because you would throw them off of yourself the second you started to sweat. You crawled on top of your covers and rested your back against your headboard. You wanted to read a bit before you went to bed, so you grabbed your Kindle off of your nightstand and began to read.

About fifteen minutes later, you got a knock on your door. "Babe?" Sam's voice was muffled by the thick door.

"You can come in." You tell him, not looking away from your Kindle.

You heard the door open, and that's when you looked up at Sam entering your room. You caught his surprised expression as he took in your nude form and quickly shut the door. You saw lust flashing through his hazel eyes as his gaze traveled up and down your body.

Sam cleared his throat as he kept his eyes trained on yours. Ever the gentleman. You thought as you smirked at his reaction.

"Did you need something?" You asked, batting your eyelashes at your boyfriend as you placed the Kindle in your lap. Your eyes also wandered up and down Sam's bare torso as he was only in his boxers. His anti-possession tattoo stood out against his tan chest and was littered with scars that had faded with time.

You saw Sam swallow thickly as his eyes flickered from your chest to your eyes. "I was wondering why you weren't in our room?"

It was technically Sam's room before you moved into it. After a couple of months of dating, you found yourself sleeping in his room more often than your own when you initially moved into the bunker.

"As much as I love you, Sammy, I cannot sleep with you during this heat wave."

Sam frowned slightly as he made his way to your bed and sat on the edge of it. "Why not?"

You scoffed. "Because you're practically a human furnace, and as nice as it is sleeping with you during the winter, I just know I'll be soaked just sharing a bed with you."

A dirty smirk wormed its way onto Sam's face as his warm palm landed on your ankle and slowly trailed up your leg. "I'm glad I have that effect on you, but I already knew that."

You narrowed your eyes at him as you wriggled your leg away from Sam's grasp. "Ha, ha, you're so funny." You deadpan. "But I'm being serious. You radiate heat, which isn't fun when we're trying to survive a heat wave."

Sam started to pout at you. "But babe-"

"Nope. Not hearing it." You cut him off and shook your head at him as you moved your Kindle to your nightstand. "You're sleeping in your bed alone until this heat wave is over."

"Now, go back to your room." You gestured to your door.

A small huff left Sam as he got up from your bed. "Fine, but at least give me a goodnight kiss."

You rolled your eyes slightly. "Get over here, you big baby." Sam moved to the side you were lying on and bent down to kiss you.

You intended the kiss to be chaste, but Sam (being the little shit he is) had other ideas. He grabbed both of your cheeks with his hands and pulled you into a passionate kiss.  

It was unexpected, but you melted into the kiss as your hands instinctively went to his chest. He tasted like mint and something that you could only describe as Sam. Sam swiped at the seam of your lips, and that is what broke you from your Sam-induced haze.

You pushed him away from you and glared at him lightly. Sam just had a cheeky grin on his face.

"Nice try, now go to bed."

Sam still had a grin on his face as he bent down again and kissed your forehead.

"Goodnight, baby," He murmured softly against your forehead before pulling away.

"Goodnight, Sammy," You said with a soft smile as he left your room.

You turned to your nightstand and turned off the lamp that illuminated your room. Your room was engulfed in darkness as you shuffled further down your bed until your head hit the pillows. You fell asleep as your fan blew cool air towards your bed.

Little did you know, Sam ended up sneaking into your room once you were asleep and woke up in the morning soaked in sweat and having a moose of a boyfriend wrapped around your sweat-slicked body.

It's safe to say that you gave Sam a very rude awakening that morning.  

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hi, I was the one who asked if you still write. For supernatural, I was wondering if you could write early season sam ( season 1-2) smut with sam going down on the reader and riding ( you don't got to if you don't want to I was just wanting some more early season sam smut)

༉‧₊˚. 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞? || 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

― pairing: sam winchester x plus size lawyer!reader

― summary: sam calls you to bail dean and him out, but you have to let him know that your services come with a price.

― warnings: another pwp!! there's a little plot in the beginning but not really, referenced past sexual tension, mentions of past drunk driving (don't do this), cigarettes, alcohol, but no one's drunk, a lot of banter, dry witted reader, kissing, stripping, oral sex (f rec.), come swallowing, pocket condoms (be smart), switch r and sam, no one's really in charge, riding, protected sex, dirty talk, hints at sam having a praise kink, i don't make the rules, a lot of consent because that's key!! and a cute ending to once again, tie this up into a nice little bow!

― wc: 2941

⋆ a/n: okay these word counts keep getting crazier and crazier, but it's been so long since i've written for any of my supernatural boys so i let myself get carried away!! i really wanted to capture how sassy early seasons sam was, and so i paired him up with a no nonsense, badass lawyer!

masterlist | AO3

“We really have to stop meeting like this.” You remark as you enter the interviewing room that Sam was being held in at a police station.

“You know I wouldn’t have called you here if I had another option.” You wave off his apology, sitting down across from him and placing your briefcase on the table. “It’s fine, but I want to talk about these charges.”

You grab out his file and lick your finger before flicking through it. “It says here you’re being charged with breaking and entering as well as trespassing. You’re lucky it’s only these.” You chide and look up at him from over the paper. 

You and Sam have… history. It’s a bit blurry how your allyship came to be, but you’re the only one that knows of the creatures that lurk in the dark, the ones that Sam and Dean fight so vehemently against to keep unknowing bystanders safe. It’s chivalrous and really fucking reckless.

“It’s a good thing I got the best lawyer around then, huh?” He says with a smile. You raise a brow at his brazen suck up. “Yeah, yeah, keep your sweet talking to yourself, Winchester, and I’ll see what I can do, yeah?” Sam laughs but nonetheless does a lip zipping motion. 

“Fuck I need a drink.” Dean cruses as he pushes the doors to the police station open. He holds it open for you and Sam to exit.

“I’m not gonna get your ass back out if you get a DUI.” You snip without any heat behind it. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart. I drive the best when I’m drunk.” You roll your eyes, “Wow, that sure does make me feel better.” You turn your head to the six-foot tall man next to him. “Keep an eye on him for me, will you?”

“Wait, you’re not staying?” Sam asks with furrowed brows. “No? Why would I?”

“Because drove all the way out here to bum fuck nowhere to help us out. The least you can do is let me treat you to a beer or something.”

You stare at Sam for a moment and weigh your options: while staying does sound very, very tempting, you know the WInchester’s aren’t any good, and being around them is like signing a death sentence. On the other hand… it was rare that you ever really got to see them, and they were old friends. They’ve gotten you out of a pickle once or twice.

“Sure.” You finally reply with a shrug, and Sam lights up. 

“Well hop in, sweets, I’m driving.” Dean whistles before ducking into the driver's seat. “Not for long!” You yell back. “After you,” Sam gestures to the backdoor that he has now opened. “What a gentleman.” You say dryly.

“Why of course.”

Drinks are uneventful to say the least.

Your body has a nice buzz going, the bar stuffy and alive with chatter and the sound of pool balls hitting each other. You light up a cigarette from the box saved for rare events such as this.

“Didn’t know you were a smoker.” Sam says and gestures to the thing hanging between your lips. You just shrug, lighting the thing up before pulling a long drag of it. The burn is nice and familiar, and the relief is comfortable when it leaves your lungs.

“Something else will kill me eventually. Don’t worry though, I don’t do it often. Consider this me… celebrating saving your ass.” 

It was just you and Sam at the table, Dean having bounced off somewhere to talk to a busty chick he had spotted at the bar. You just shook your head at his salute stating, “That’ll get old eventually.”

“So, what were you guys investigating anyway? Normal people don’t go jumping over barbed fences to abandoned power plants.” 

It was Sam’s turn to shrug, a nail picking at the now damp bear label melting off the glass.

“Heard there were a few blood suckers running around town, and the plant was their nest, but someone,” His eyes flicker over to where Dean is standing, blissfully unaware of the glare being sent his way, “Had to holler like a kicked puppy and fly over the fence while trying to climb over it.”

That manages to pull a deep laugh from you, the image of the big bad, emotionally constipated elder Winchester brother screaming in terror.

“Alright, I admit that I could excuse that.”

“But?” Sam asks slyly. 

Ah, there it was, the challenge and tension that always manages to find itself bubbling between the two of you whenever you’re together. 

“But, you know my services don’t come for free, pretty boy.” Your eyes flicker up to his, dark and hungry as you take another inhale of the quickly burning filter. 

His gazes follow your movements before returning back to yours. “You want a pick of all the fraudulent credit cards we have?”

“Nah,” You begin, snubbing the thing in the ashtray in the middle of the table. “Wouldn’t look good on my record. Plus, I have something different in mind than money.” 

You’d never toed the line this closely before, but you were warm and had a nice nice mix of nicotine and liquor buzz flowing through your body, so your apologies if you’re a little loose lipped.

“Oh? And what would that be?” He leans forward on crossed arms, large brown irises burning into yours; playful and mischievous. You could see right through his angelic little brother facade, and you smirked. 

“Why don’t you find out?”

The hotel really wasn’t that far of a walk, and when you got inside, Sam was on you, pressing you back into the door and tugging off your blazer.

Your lips were connected into a heated kiss, your own hands found themselves shucking off his brown coat. He was forced to stop touching you so he could take it all the way off and you did the same, left in your white button up and him in a t-shirt. 

You met in the middle, walking backwards until the back of his thighs met one of the beds and he sat down. You didn’t hesitate to clamber onto his lap, palms still cupping his face and tongue exploring his mouth. Large fingers dug into your hips, his cock hard and straining beneath the jeans he was wearing.

“You’re a damn good kisser.” You huff against his lips. He smirked, “You thought I’d be bad?”

“Hm,” You hum, “Inexperienced at best.”

“Wow, so little faith in me?” He grunted when you pressed down on him, finally giving him some much needed friction. “Then give me something to believe in.” You breathe. 

“Take off your pants.” He demands darkly, and it sends a shiver up your spine. “What’s the magic word?” You want to see how far you could push his buttons. A hand meets your ass in a quick slap before he grips it. “Please?”

“Fuck,” You curse through fluttered lashes. “Okay.”

You get up, pulling off your professional looking trousers to reveal plain black underwear underneath. “Granny panties a turn on for you?” You ask through a small grin. He’s watching you through hooded eyes, leaning back on his hands.

“If you take off my pants, you’d see that we’re matching.”

“Is that so?” 

“How about you find out?” Sam reiterates your words from back at the bar and you can help but study him with a tilt of your head. “You're naughty, aren’t you Sammy boy?” He shrugs in faux innocence. “I have layers.”

“I’m seeing that.” 

You approach him and gesture for him to lift up his hips, pulling his jeans down and tossing them onto the floor carelessly. Your fingers return to your own shirt, slowly popping the buttons open before the cloth hangs off your shoulders.

“Look at that, my bra matches too.”

He gulps, eyes zeroed in on your breasts. “So it does.” You smile, pulling it off the rest of the way. Sam catches the hint, tugging his t-shirt off. His chest is lean and soft, his stomach tan and the planes off his hips disappear into his underwear, leaving behind a patch of hair sat below his navel.

“Follow the yellow brick road.” You remark unseriously when your eyes land on it. “You’re the worst.” He snorts and it makes you laugh a bit too.

“So, how’s this gonna go? Want me to suck you off?” You ask crudely, and he groans. “God, of course you have to talk like that.”

“I like to get straight to the point, it’s the lawyer in me.” You dismiss and he stands up, approaching you to grab you by your shoulders and whirling you around. He sits you down on the bed before shoving you down gently and you let him.

“I want to eat you out, that’s how this is going to go.” You raise a brow, but backup on the mattress to lay your head on the pillows. “Do you have to talk like that?” You reiterate. “Of course,” He says as he crawls up the duvet to lay between your thick thighs. “It’s the hunter in me.”

“I see how it is.” The banter between you feeds the need twisting in your stomach. You let your legs fall apart so he can fit your knees over his shoulders. “Oh trust me, you will.” You snort, “Make that mouth useful, yeah?”

His gaze burns but he listens, licking at your clit over the cotton. You gasp, fingers tangling in his hair to just hold his head against you as he takes in your taste. Your eyes flutter closed, allowing yourself to get lost in his wet tongue.

“Mmf.” You moan through your lips that you had rolled between your teeth. You were sure your panties were soaked, and your heels pressed into his back.

“God, Sam… please, don’t tease.” You weren’t above begging, tugging at his hair to emphasize your plea. “Lift your hips up for me.” Heavy hands trace themselves from your hips down to the hem of the underwear where he proceeds to drag them down your thighs before he reluctantly pulls away to rid you of them completely.

He’s not gone for long, because he reconnects his lips to your bare, wet pussy, tongue diving between your folds to drink in your arousal. Your moan comes out in a loud shout, thighs tightening around his head and flatten over his ears.

“Gah – Oh fuck!” You swear, back arching and hips jumping. He holds them down, pinning you to the mattress and eating you out in abandon. His eyes are closed, brown tresses falling in his face as if he’s getting lost in you.

You have no idea where he learned all this from, but if his teeth scraping ever so slightly over your sensitive clit, she must’ve been good. A hell of a woman. You’d love to meet her. 

“Yes, yes, just like that – Good…” You choke when one of his long fingers join into the mess, “Good fucking boy.” Surprisingly, Sam moans at the praise, and you loll your head to the side to see that he’s grinding his own hips down onto the covers.

“Always knew you were a freak in bed.” You breathe, head falling back. He goes to remove his mouth to respond but you hold him there, “No, no, don’t please. ‘M so close.” He listens but his sucks gets harsher, and one finger turns into two.

Your body spasms with each coordinated brush and press on your g-spot.

“‘M fuck – ‘m cumming.” You cry out, body crunching up to chase and run away from the pleasure at the same time. You let out a mantra of little yes, yes, yes’s until your body goes lax and he pulls away.

“Holy shit.” You huff, staring up at the popcorn ceiling in order to ground yourself. “Told you so.” Sam sasses back and you look down to glare at him. “Just give me a sec.” You pant. 

“We don’t have to keep going if you’re too tired.” Sam says and rubs comfortingly at your skin. “If you think some head is what’s going to take me out, you’ve got another thing coming.” 

“Alright, alright.” Sam raises his hands in defeat and you chuckle at him.

“Since I came first, how do you want me? I’m fine with whatever.” He thinks about it for a moment before gesturing over to the pillows. “Ride me?” He spares a glance down to your shaky legs. “Unless you can’t keep yourself up.”

“Shut up and get against the headboard.”

“So romantic.” “Uh huh.” 

You’re coming to learn that sex with Sam is really fun; he’s a giver, and he’s playful and he isn’t afraid to bite back.

He situates himself with his back on the pillows, legs splayed out in front of him so you can sit on his thighs easier. Considerate.

“Can I take your bra off?” You raise an eyebrow at his question. “I never pegged you for boob guy.” 

“I enjoy a nice woman, sue me.”

For the first time that night, you truly blush at his words, hiding your flustered face by focusing on reaching behind you to take the damn thing off yourself. You toss it somewhere once your breasts fall free.

“Fuck me.” Sam breathes, hands reaching up to grab at them. Your nipples harden under his palms as he fondles them. “Having fun?” You ask in amusement. “Maybe.” He responds and you snort and roll your eyes. 

It seems as though you’re the only one that remembers what you came here for because you tug his underwear down and tap his hip. He lifts them up and soon enough he’s bare beneath you.

“Shit wait,” Sam curses and reaches over to rummage around until he finds what looks to be Dean’s wallet. “Dean left his wallet here?” You question. “Yeah, but don’t worry, I paid off whatever was on the tab before we left.”

He digs around until he finds a condom.

“Is that thing any good?” You ask in uncertainty. “Yeah, I saw him put it in here this morning. When asked him about it he said ‘You always have to be prepared for everything, Sammy.’” You laughed, shaking your head. 

“Good thing your brother is a manwhore and forgetful.” You tease and Sam just shakes his head in fond exasperation. 

He rips the thing and rolls it onto his hardened cock before lining it up with your entrance; you place your hands on his shoulders. “Are you still good?” You nod. “I’m still good.”

With that, he helps you sink down.

The stretch isn’t all that painful due to the previous foreplay, but it still leaves you breathless as he fills you up. It’s a bit overwhelming, because you don’t have sex often, and though you can feel Sam twitching in an attempt to keep himself still, he helps you settle.

You rotate your hips in a lazy swirl and Sam chokes, his grip on your waist tightening.

“You can move.” You whimper and he doesn’t hesitate to lift you up and down a few times before meeting you halfway. 

You settle on a slow rhythm at first before you work in tandem; once you go down, he comes up. Your clit brushes his pelvis ever so often that sends electric sparks through your veins.

“Faster.” You request through a mewl. “I got you, baby, I got you.” He reassures. Sam bends his knees, planting his feet firmly on the bed before fucking up into you. His tip hits your g-spot so hard it punches the air out your lungs and the moan you let out is whorish.

“So… so good. Sammy baby. Fuck –” You ramble, your mind fogging over as he takes the reins on both of your pleasure. His jaw is set tight, the vein in his neck bulging. “You’re so tight, God, I’m not gonna last long.”

“That’s okay.” You gasp out. “Use me, I don’t care.” You could have sworn you heard Sam whimper at your words. 

He pounds into you uncontrollably, the sounds of wet slapping reverberating throughout the small hotel room. It’s hot, admittedly so, the room reeking of sex, sweat, and dust. It’s a strange combination, but one that you welcome as you near your end.

“I think… I think I’m gonna cum again.” You hiccup. You dig the pads of your fingers into the meat of his shoulders and one of the hands that were holding your waist slips between you to rub at your swollen clit.

Tears fall down your face at the overstimulation, and you clench down onto him uncontrollably.

“Gonna cum too.” Sam rasps.

You work together to achieve your orgasms, and when you do, it’s beautiful; you lose yourself to the moment, letting the white hot burn of the sensation shake you. Everything is murmured for a moment before you open your eyes, and you must have fallen forward because all you can see is the wall in front of you.

Your insides are remarkably warm so Sam must’ve cum too.

You both bask in each other’s presence for a moment.

“Was that good enough payment?” Sam asks cheekily. “Hmm,” You hum, grabbing a piece of hair and twirling it between your fingers. “I could always take twenty bucks. Gas isn’t cheap, you know.”

“How about food? That’s the best I can do.”

You smile, “You asking me on a date, Winchester?”

“Maybe. If I was, would you say yes?”

“If the food’s any good then maybe.”

“God, you really are the worst.” Sam snorts and you laugh, full bellied.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @khxna @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @moonysreid

[apcllpsie]

— LOVERBOY

SAM WINCHESTER X FEM!READER

PAIRINGS: SAM WINCHESTER x FEMALE

WARNING(S): NONE

OUTLINE: Sammy was beginning to get super busy and had no time to REALLY hangout with you. So, when he got his freetime, he finally had plans with you!

You hadnt seen Sammy in so long. It had been WEEKS since you genuinely saw eachother. Work had kept you both busy. Especially Sam. Here you were, with tears in your eyes & your nose all stuffy. "I know sweet girl, I miss you too." He said, in his calm and reassurance voice. "Ill be home tomorrow, okay? I promise." Sam said. Y/n replied with a soft, "okay." Still, obviously upset, but just tired and wanted to go to bed. "Okay, goodnight beautiful." he let that name roll off his tongue, and made you smile softly. "goodnight sammy." you said, putting your phone on your nightstand, getting into your silk pajamas & turning off your dimly lit lamp. falling asleep into mindset.

Later on in the night, you heard some shuffling, you just assumed it was your cat, until you felt your bed dip. and a arm wrap around your waist and pull you close. your first instinct was to immediately scream, but this person felt familiar. the calloused fingertips, running through your hair & the cologne that went through your room. "sammy." you said, halfway asleep & halfway awake. "hi sweet girl." he whispered, continuing to hold you close. "i couldnt wait to see you tomorrow, so i came over now." He chuckled softly, letting you melt in his arms.

You missed him, he was your everything. And you were his everything. "i missed you too, loverboy." You flipped your body over, so you were face to face with the boy. his eyes, looking in yours, his soft brown hair, and his gentle smile. your boy, your sweet boy. "cmere sweet girl, i need you." he wrapped his arms tighter around you, letting him melt ontop of you. there was nothing more than having him beside you. his warmth, keeping you warm. "how did you.. get in here?" you asked, looking at him. "dont worry about it." he smiled, kissing your forehead, and quickly fell asleep with you.

AUTHORS NOTE: hii! i thought about sammy all day and how bad i needed some serious fluff from him <3! feedback is always welcome!