sageྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

22 / sheher sam enthusiast

[alasdecas]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝄞

sage. 22. she/her. writer at times. esp/eng. sam girl. music lover. ┆ "i like you the way you are." ⋆˚₊ 𖤓☽˚.⋆

┆𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐭 𝐦𝐞 [inbox: always open. req: closed]

talk 2 me anytime! im here to interact, make moots, read, shit post and sometimes write!

[s0urw00lf]

Reader taking care of Sammy while he’s all drunk and smiley!!! Trying (tragically) to aid him in carrying himself home, Dean on his other side making fun of him lovingly. He’s a happy drunk :) Maybe Sammy professes his favourite things about the reader while he’s out of his head. He’s touchy and nuzzling reader and nuzzling Dean. Maybe even gets emotional and screws together his pretty brows waxing lyrical about the two of them. The two most special people in his life. The only two people allowed to call him Sammy.

Love u!!! <3

𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮

pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!reader

Summary: Sam gets very drunk and turns into a complete sap.  An: hiya!! This was a bit of a complicated write for me, mostly because it’s hard for me to imagine Sam drunk, and if he was to get drunk I think he’d be more of like a sad, self loathing drunk, however, this was so cute to write!! I do love a drunk Sam fic I can’t lie. I hope you enjoy it anon!! WC: 1.3k - Sam Masterlist

You hadn't meant to let Sam get as drunk as he did. In fact you hadn't meant to let Sam get drunk at all, this was all deans doing. Encouraging him to 'let loose and drink to your hearts content' his words exactly.

Now here you are attempting to get Sam back to the motel without him and the concrete becoming acquaintances, it sounds easier than it is, seeing as he's 6'4 and two hundred pounds of pure muscle and denim, and apparently very sappy.

“Come on Sammy, work with us here" you groaned, trying to hold him steady. "what?! M'doin my best" he argued back, though he was absolutely not doing his best.

"Dean" you groaned. Dean laughed "Alright I got him" he pulls Sam by the sleeve of his Carhartt, taking the weight off of you. "Thank you" you muttered.

You fix your crumpled shirt, and glance over at Sam, he's smiling at you. Your lips curl up in amusement at his dopey smile.

"Aw look at him" Dean teases "he's got the starry eyes" he continues his steady stride as if Sam isn't completely relying on him for stability.

Sam snorts "I'm not 'starry eyed' Dean. I just… love you guys" he says

You and Dean share shocked glances, extremely caught off guard by Sam's sudden admission. Dean pats Sam on his back "yeah he's out of it" he mutters failing to hide how good it felt to hear those words from his brother.

A familiar flutter settled deep within you, one only caused by the drunken man, you smiled up at him "we love you too Sammy" you tell him, lifting his arm to wrap around your shoulder. He absentmindedly tugs you closer.

"Y'guys are the most importantly people in m'life" Sam continues, trying to keep his legs from giving out beneath him.

It's been about six years since you joined the brothers, most of that time you spent crushing on the younger Winchester so hearing those words from him made something light stir within you.

"alright big guy, don't say anything you're gonna regret in the morning" he says as if Sam's words hadn't made his night.

You smile at the small interaction while trying to hold Sam steady, sam sighs dramatically "no you don't get it, like you guys are so-" he looks at you his face blanks as if something occurred to him. He takes a breath "gosh you're beautiful." He says.

The sudden complement takes you off gaurd "I-" you laugh "thank you, sammy. You're beautiful too."

he trips over a crack in the ground and falls, bringing you down with him, somehow still sober enough to semi break your fall before you hit the ground.

He groaned in pain, and you gasped after the short lived shock wore off, rolling him over to face towards you. You looked over him for any injuries, meanwhile Dean had broken out laughing "oh classic!” He claps “that was classic, Sammy"

You stood up, dusting off your knees. You hit Dean "stop laughing, this is your fault. Help me get him up!" You demanded.

Sam watched you, pouting at his brother’s laughter. You and Dean pulled him up off of the ground. But he moves away from Dean, and leans completely into you.

Dean gives him a betrayed kind of look and you shake your head in amusement. "And she takes care f'me."

Dean stops in front of you and Sam "so what are you saying you like her more than me?" Dean teases, but Sam in this state can't really tell.

"What?!" He says " no, I just love how nice she is, and that I can always talk to her. Oh and that she doesn't leave us." He trailed off "You won't leave right?" He suddenly asks you.

You smile "not if I can help it"

Sam nods, pleased by your answer "She keeps us together, and makes sure we're healthy. Makes us take a break when where driving ourselves crazy" he continues.

Dean raises an eyebrow "wow Sammy, tell us how you really feel"

Sam scoffs "I am Dean, are you listening? Oh! Maybe I'm too high up for him to hear, should I lean down?" Sam asks you, you laugh out loud "you should absolutely lean down"

Dean groans in irritation as the three of you approach their room. You unlocked the door, opening it wide enough to let Sam stumble in, behind him a very amused and ecstatic Dean.

Sam flops down on the bed, a complete, uncoordinated mess of a man.

You rolled your eyes lovingly, "dean watch Sam, I'm gonna get some meds from my room. Don't let him break a bone or anything" you point at the oldest Winchester warningly.

He holds up his hands defensively "hey I am a great caretaker"

Sam lifts his head up "you're leaving?" He asks, quieter than usual. You can hear the disappointment in his voice and it almost shatters your heart "just for a moment, I need to get you meds so you don't wake up with a kick drum pounding in your head"

Sam pouts, eyebrows knitting together like it's paining him. You sigh, closing the door "okay, I'll get it later. But at least drink some water."

Sam sighs "no, I just want you two to sit here with me. We never get to do that anymore… just hang out." He turns over onto his back.

You raise your eyebrows, glancing at Dean who gave you a shrug. "Yeah. Okay we can just sit and hang out then." You move towards the bed, taking a seat beside Sam.

You gasp when he catches you by surprise, putting his head in your lap.

"Y'guys are the most importantly people in m'life" Sam repeats, his eyes staring right up at you.

You look over to Dean who has a light in his eyes that you haven't seen in a long time, he smiles, patting Sam's leg lightly "remind me to never encourage him to over drink again" he says as if Sam's words hadn't made his night.

You smile at the small interaction while trying not to look him in the eye, sam sighs dramatically "you're beautiful." He says, staring at you, from an angle you were sure wasn't as appealing as he made it seem.

Your face heats "you said that already."

Sam rolls his eyes, dismissing what you said. "and I love when you laugh, makes my whole day. Or when you finally figure out something after hours of research, y'get so excited."

His words make your brain falter, these new admissions were coming hard and hitting you like punches. The possibility of you meaning more to Sam than just a friend.

"I'm starting to feel a little left out here" Dean says from his chair, his arms folded over his chest, but you didn't miss the fond look he wore.

Sam shook his head tiredly, his eyes drooping slightly, showing clear signs of exhaustion. "You're my brother Dean, we fight, we hide stuff, but in the end it doesn't matter. It's just what we do. But I couldn't do this without you. Hunting I mean. Need you by my side, no matter what." Sam's voice trails off, as sleep envelopes him slowly.

Your heart clenched, you looked at Dean, there were tears in his eyes as he peered down at his little brother, the one he raised damn near all alone. His eyes met yours, and his body stiffened, he cleared his throat as he stood from his chair, excusing himself to the bathroom.

You smiled faintly as the bathroom door shut. Looking back down at Sam, now completely asleep, you resisted the urge to pull him tight into your arms.

Because underneath all of that hardened exterior, behind the brick walls he had built up, he was still only a man, only a human. Despite all that has happened to him, all he was destined to be, he still remained soft and allowed himself to feel. For you, for Dean, and everyone else he's lost.

You wiped away tears that traveled down the slopes of your face before they fell onto his, not wanting to interrupt his peaceful, vodka induced slumber.

You leaned down and kissed his forehead gently. "Goodnight Sammy"

[scandalscontained]

clingy!dean when reader tries to take a bath

Stumbling into the motel room after the latest hunt, you felt like you'd gone swimming in a manhole. You wouldn't dare to think about the guts and whatever gross substances were slathered on your body. That would only lead to spiraling and lighting something on fire. Probably yourself.

"I need a bath." You'd announced, letting your bag clatter beside your bed. Well, it was the bed you were sharing with your boyfriend.

Without even needing to glance over your shoulder, and spot the smirk curving the side of Dean's mouth, you speak up once more. "Alone."

And that had been ten minutes ago. The water had been turned on and stopped. You were inside the bathroom, in the tub, relaxing. Just like you wanted to.

But Dean was bored. Unequivocally.

He tried looking for new hunts. Cleaning his guns. Even started pestering Sam by going up behind him and pretending to punch him, muttering "pow" each time he did it. But he was only able to do it twice before Sam waved him off. Staring at the wall was an option he easily decided to decline.

So here he was, opening the bathroom door with a sheepish grin. He opens the door a crack- just enough for his face to smush against the door.

"Hey, sweetheart." He says coyly, glancing at you in the tub. "I know you said you didn't want to be bothered but-"

"Dean, please." You sigh, looking over at him.

"I know. It'll just take a second." He pleads, flashing his famous five-watt grin.

A long-suffering sigh falls from your lips. "Alright. What's up?"

"I'm thinking burgers tonight. Or that Italian restaurant with the feta and spinach pizza you like. Which, really sweetheart, you gotta work on your pizza choices. S'a real bummer watching you-"

If you weren't trying to destress, he would have been endearing. It was sweet. The mighty Dean Winchester could barely spend fifteen minutes without his girlfriend. You take a breath and let the ghost of a smile twitch at your mouth.

"Honey. Burgers are fine." Your voice is calm, despite the frustration brewing in your abdomen. All you wanted was twenty minutes. And clean clothes.

Dean seems to get the hint. "Alright. I'll, uh, get out of your hair."

He closes the door with a soft click, leaving you to submerge yourself beneath the lavender scented bubbles.

That doesn't last long.

He's back at it again, apologizing and starting a whole new conversation. One that really could have waited ten minutes. Only this time, he comes into the bathroom.

The door shuts behind him. He walks over to sit on the edge of the toilet lid, glancing down at you. To be a flirt, or curb the rising agitation in your gaze, he winks at you.

"You know where my keys are, mama? Gonna head out and get food."

"In your jacket. Where I always leave them." You close your eyes, trying to pretend to have some solace.

"Wait, actually, I'll just wait. We can go together." The smile is evident in his words.

"Sounds good, honey." You murmur, knowing it was no use. A small smile captures your expression. "I'll be out soon."

"I'll just stay in here, then."

"Dean!"

He laughs, already getting up and walking towards the door. "Okay, okay, I'm leavin'! Gosh, woman."

The last thing you hear is the door shutting and a muffled 'I love you.'

join the taglist here! request something here!

TAGLIST: @dayhsdreaming @ralida

[wvffles]

imagine dean learning spanish

he'd learn a phrase every now and then, maybe a sentence here and there, but he never actually buckled in to fully learn the language, until a case goes sideways. if you hadn't been there to translate, there was no way they would've been able to rescue the victims. so from there on he really wanted to learn, because if they lost someone due to something as small as a language barrier it would weigh heavy on his mind and heart

you start little; naming objects he can see, things he's already familiar with. though after a session in the library, you both learn quickly that sitting down with books isn't really his learning style, he needs to move around, interact, so you adjust your technique—teaching as you go, translating/teaching him anything from how to say car to "we need to stop for gas" in spanish

sam chimes in with his research of full immersion; learning through the complete exposure of the language you're trying to learn, without the use of your own native language (for dean, english). so every sunday you guys would speak only in spanish from the moment you woke up, using many context clues (nearly playing charades) to figure it out, for as long as possible. when you first started he could only keep at it for three hours maximum, now he can go the full day

listening to your music recs (in spanish) and watching telenovelas (soap operas) with you also helped greatly...not that he'd admit it

eventually he gets comfortable enough to start cracking jokes, and of course it's the corniest ones possible (not that you mind, those make you laugh the hardest). it'll be random too, he'll say something like "you know what my favorite word to say in spanish is?" and wait for you to ask which one, before he answers with "mucho, because it means a lot to you."

and you'll look at him, and he'll smile at you, and you'll bust out laughing at how ridiculous (and endearing) the joke is

but it also comes in handy on another case fast forward a couple months, when you get separated and the only reason they're able to find you is with the help of some witnesses who only spoke spanish. he holds you close that entire night, beyond grateful to have understood fast enough to rescue you

it warms your heart greatly that he took the time and effort to learn, both to help others and "to love you in another language, because his love for you is the same in every one—abundant and profound"

you tried translating that with a slight shine in your eyes but quickly gave up, lips meeting his in a tender kiss before you cuddled into his awaiting arms instead.

not that he minded one bit.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ .

dean masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ main masterlist

⋆˙⟡ notes; super short, self indulgent, and slightly silly, lol <3 (for anyone who doesn't speak spanish, "mucho" is the translation for "a lot"). what phrase(es) or word(s) do y'all think would be essential for him to know in spanish? or something he'd wanna know? 😗

[alasdecas]

every day gets more shit

[alasdecas]

As for marisam, general hc more than anything but I imagine that Sam is constantly touching Mari's thighs once they're together. He'll have a hand around her waist, sure, but he's quietly pawing at her thighs all the time. Especially ig they're sitting, he'll have a hand just higher than her knee. If they can't be that touchy around whoever they're with, he'll just sit next to her but sit as close as possible, pressing his thigh against hers. ---- which could lead to really great thigh worship smut, him kissing slowly all over, sucking soft marks on her inner thighs, a very small, sweet claim. I hc all this for Sam in general lol but it works so well with Mari too.

YES YES YESSSSS

giddy all over again

[alasdecas]

I need help

So much help

Do you have any smutty ideas for Cas? I fear I need that Angel far too much and there are nowhere near enough fics for him!!

np ofc just wondering <3

only idea i can think of is him learning about reader's pleasures and being very matter-a-factly like "oh i see that works" or something like that😭 i've only read cas smut like a handful of times so i'm not really knowledgable about the possibilities!

also!! i forgot i answered your other ask privately and the beautiful segment about sam obsessed with mari's thighs is lost AGH!! i don't know if you always delete asks after you see em but if you still have... could you send me a ss of it 🥹!!

[alasdecas]

My ass during a hunt:

(except they're Sam's boobs....)

I'm sorry I'm a dumbass lol

LMAOOO this is so real😭😭

[theedaythatnevercomes]

(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction

(Sam Winchester x f!reader)

Summary: Sam Winchester doesn’t do quickies. But after spending far too much time with nothing more than a couple lingering touches—you’re getting a little frustrated. Too bad Dean can’t seem to take a hint.

CW: Barely any plot, quickies, unprotected PIV, hot library sex (mmm), reader is a little a lot frustrated, Dean’s a major cock block, getting caught (so, accidental voyeurism? I guess?), and no, they’re not into it… sorry!

WC: 4.6K

Based on this request!

Sam Winchester doesn’t do quickies.

It’s a fact that you’ve, rather unfortunately, become painfully aware of over the past year. One that can make you melt one moment, and lose your mind the next.

Because when it comes to you, Sam takes his time. 

If he had it his way, every night spent with you would stretch long past midnight, bodies tangled beneath motel sheets while the rest of the world seems to fade into nothing. He’d kiss you so slow that your lungs would run out of air, and you’d have to drag it back in between gasps as he touches every inch of your skin with careful hands. There’s nothing rushed about the way Sam loves you, and nothing careless, either. He makes damn sure that you’re nothing less than spoiled, left boneless and worshipped against his chest, drifting in the hazy bliss of exhaustion as his heart thumps beneath your cheek.

And God, you love him for it. Most of the time.

But the downside of dating Sam is that his life comes with a permanent, trauma-bonded punishment attached at the hip, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. 

You love Dean. You really, really do. He’s family, always has been, and always will be—that’s just a fact of life. But there’s moments, usually when you haven’t spent more than five uninterrupted minutes alone with your gorgeous boyfriend in over a week, that fantasizing about wringing out the older man’s neck like a dish towel becomes your go to form of stress relief. 

The two of you need to run some errands? Dean has the impalas keys in his hand before either of you can speak.

Need to interview some witnesses for a case? Well, apparently, the only thing better than two fake FBI agents is three. 

Want to stop at some cute diner you noticed for a bite to eat? Oh, you’ve just read Dean’s mind, because he’s been dreaming about pie since last week. 

It’s endless, and it’s starting to become unbearable. Especially when you’ve spent the last two weeks with nothing more than a little heavy petting, and it’s starting to feel like some forced dry spell. By day fifteen, you’re pretty sure Dean’s doing it on purpose.

Maybe not meticulously, or even consciously, but either way, you’re going a little insane. For a man so sex-oriented, you’d think he’d be less oblivious about how much of a cock block he’s become; and there’s only so many interrupted moments and unwanted third-wheeling a woman can take before she starts making up conspiracy theories. 

Like tonight, for example.

You and Sam had finally managed to peel away after dinner under the excuse of breaking into the local library past close, and digging through some lore archives for your case of the week. Your plan to jump your adorably clueless boyfriend, and climb him like a fucking tree, was in full swing.

And God, it almost worked. It should have worked. Dean had barely looked at you over his burger as he waved the two of you off, mumbling something about not wanting to join in on your little nerd club. 

But, of course, fate had other plans. Because not ten minutes later, he’d had some stupid change of heart. And coupled with Sam’s inability to say no, your sweet little library date had turned into a three-person job.

So, you sit wedged beside Sam in an old rickety chair, pressed close enough to rest your shoulder against his, as Dean slouches across from you looking bored out of his skull. Honestly, you’re just grateful he’s finally stopped bragging about his alarm disarming abilities after the three of you busted in through the back door. The silence that’s settled in in the aftermath, though, only makes you twitchy.

Sam’s warm at your side, his thigh brushing against yours every time his leg bounces against the dusty floor. To his credit, he really is researching, which doesn’t surprise you one bit. There’s that familiar, deep furrow in his brow, accompanied by a look of intense focus lighting up his hazel eyes as he scans each page. You, on the other hand, haven’t flipped a single page of your copy of ‘Daemonologie’ in over twenty minutes. 

Because Christ, it’s pretty damn hard to focus on mind numbing lore when Sam’s so close, and smells like fucking heaven. 

It’s a little stupid, really, how a few dry weeks have managed to wound you up so tight, that you’re vibrating in your seat like a bitch in heat. But that revelation sure as hell doesn’t stop your foot from tapping restlessly against the floor, or do a damn thing about the way you’re practically salivating over the scent of Sam’s shampoo. But, hey, you’d thrown away subtle nearly ten minutes ago, the moment Sam’s beautifully long fingers started tracing the faded ink of some demonic sigil, and you had to resist every primal urge to lick the veins on his hand.

You’re about five seconds from drooling when you break the silence. 

“Alright.” You slam your hands down on the table, spooking an unsuspecting Dean, who’d just laid his head down over his forearms—Sam’s head snapping towards you. “This is getting us nowhere.”

Dean groans his agreement, shoving away the book that he hadn’t touched since he’d sat down. “…Thank God. Y’know, I saw a dive a few blocks over. We should—”

“—There’s a microfilm reader in the back,” you interrupt smoothly. “We can flip through old newspapers, look for an actual, visible pattern.”

Dean’s mouth clicks shut at your words, and you swear you’ve never seen him look quite so betrayed. He blinks at you, before throwing his head back like he’d just been sentenced to life in prison.

Sam, on the other hand, folds his book closed with silent care, tilting his head towards you in silent question.

“Microfilm?” he echos, raising a brow, before offering a shrug. “I mean. Beats sifting through physicals, but…”

You shoot him a less than friendly look, one he must some-what understand (bless his soul), because his mouth snaps closed before he can finish his sentence.

“…Right,” he amends. 

“Whatever, sweetheart,” Dean grumbles, already moving to stand. “Let’s all go stare at some ancient newspaper clippings ‘til our eyes start to bleed.”

And oh. Oh, absolutely not.

“Dean,” you say flatly, “you hate microfilm.” 

He freezes halfway to standing, argument already on the tip of his tongue, but you’re faster.

“Last time, you almost smashed the damn thing before Sam took over.”

You stand quickly, too quickly, knee thumping against the table in your haste, your hand falling to plant firmly on Sam’s shoulder.

“You stay here, Dean. Keep watch, take a nap, or whatever the hell it is you’ve been doing for the past half an hour. We won’t be long.” You give Sam a soft squeeze. “Right, Sammy?”

Sam lifts his head to meet your gaze, staring at you with those big, earnest puppy eyes, wide and slightly confused. He looks unfairly pretty in this light, all messy hair, sleepy focus, pink lips slightly parted in silent question. 

He glances at your hand on his shoulder briefly, then back to your face, like he’s trying to piece together why you’re suddenly so intent on getting him alone. Which, unfortunately, is a fair question. Not that you care.

“Uh,” he buffers quietly. “Yeah. ‘Course.”

Dean plops back down in his chair with an exaggerated sigh, kicking up both his feet. He doesn’t even pretend to read this time, just watches you with narrowed eyes full of suspicion, and, well. Maybe mild annoyance.

You spare him one last mostly well natured smile as Sam stands, but you don’t let him get another word in before you’re practically herding his brother across the library with far too much enthusiasm to be casual. The back room is quiet, dimly lit, and just far enough from the main library to fall out of earshot. Perfect. The door groans in protest as you pull it shut behind you, creaking loud enough to make you wince. And then you notice it.

No lock.

The realization gives you pause for exactly half a second before it’s buried beneath need so thick you have to swallow it down to keep it momentarily contained. Because honestly, now that you finally have Sam alone… a flimsy detail like that is nothing but an afterthought.

Sam, the sweetheart, who somehow still hasn’t managed to connect the dots, moves instinctively towards one of the desks in a few short strides. He leans over the tabletop, bangs falling lazily over his forehead, his hand moving for the knob.

“What are you doing?” you ask, unable to keep amusement from creeping into your tone. His finger hovers halfway over the microfilm reader’s power switch, eyes flicking from it to you. That big, Stanford brain of his trying so hard to decipher where he’s missed a cue.

“What?” 

The question comes out a little croaked, and the puppy-eyed sincerity of it damn near brings you to your knees. 

“Sam.” You take one slow step forward, tilting your head with an almost innocent smile. “I thought my eye-fucking was getting a little obvious.”

He freezes. Not dramatically, no, more like a slow, dawning realization washing over him like a wave. That sweet, dumb face of his finally cracks into something else, something warm. Something darker. The kind of look that makes your stomach flip, and heat coil low in your core.

His hand slides away from the switch in a slow, teasing drag, as he pushes himself back up to his full height, stalking towards you in a few measured steps. Shadows fall over his features, catching on the sharp angle of his jaw, the perfect slope of his nose—and that gorgeous dimple that’s just begun to show itself with the heated smirk that spreads across his lips.

“Oh?” he breathes, voice rougher now. “Really? Here?”

“Yeah,” you purr, and there’s nothing subtle about the way your gaze drops to his lips before flicking back up. “Here.”

You don’t let him think too hard about it before your fist is curling around his collar, and his lips are crashing against yours.

It’s not slow, or testing, or soft. No, it’s immediate hunger. It’s you pouring weeks of desperation and need into a single action, mouth devouring his with every ounce of frustration you’ve bottled up tight enough to burst. He exhales into it, a warm puff against your cheek, as those big hands that have been haunting your fantasies slide up to cradle your jaw with infinite levels of care. His fingers splay over your cheeks, thumbs brushing beneath your eyes as he tilts your face closer to his like he can’t get enough.

He pulls back just long enough to drag in a breath, the taste of him still heavy on your tongue.

“We’re in a library,” he reasons, your noses brushing, breaths mingling. 

“We are.”

“Dean’s just outside.”

“He is.”

His mouth finds yours again, slower this time, and you can tell he wants to drag this out. Make it last. Take you apart so slow that you’ll be shaking in his grasp, and the only word left on your tongue is his name. 

But right now? That… that just won’t do. You part again with a slick pop.

“…And you’re sure about this?” he asks, of course he does, and your heart squeezes tight in your chest. 

You raise a brow, moving for another kiss, but he dodges you with a chuckle. You can’t help but glare. 

“That’s not an answer, baby.”

“Been soakin’ wet since you bitched out that asshole cop earlier,” you tease, raising one palm to trace down his chest. “That an answer?”

He pauses for a moment, considering, then his expression breaks out into a sweet, cocky grin, and then he’s crushing his lips back on yours. He kisses you like he’s drowning and you’re the surface. Like he wants nothing more than to drink you down and swallow you whole. One arm loops around your waist, cradling you closer, spinning you until you’re caged between him and one of the cold, veneer-lined desks. His tongue slips between parted lips, exploring your mouth with a hunger that belies the tenderness of his touch. 

“Up,” he murmurs between licks, tapping your hip with two calloused fingers, before hooking his hands under your thighs and lifting. You squeak, a sound that earns you the world’s most panty-dropping snicker, your ass hitting the desk with a thud. The heat of your core contrasted by the cool surface sends a new spark of want through your system, left sizzling beneath layers of pesky fabric.

Hot, feverish kisses pepper your throat not a moment later, as he splays his palms over your thighs, nudging them apart until they bracket his hips. Massive hands hold you in place, heavy and warm and so damn close to where you’re aching for him. A shiver rips through you like lightning as his lips trail up your neck, soft and wet against heated skin. He finds that sensitive spot, the one just below your ear, lingering on it with slow, open-mouthed kisses, nipping gently before soothing the sting with a lap of his tongue. Sparks climb up your spine like a kindling fire, a poorly-stifled moan whirling from your lips. 

You’re already panting, heart slamming against your chest, your fingers sliding to tangle in his messy hair to keep him right where you want him. Your other hand drags swiftly down his front, pressing into the butter-soft expanse of his chest, finally palming at his belt with fingers that have already begun to tremble. 

His lips disconnect with your neck with a sharp inhale as he straightens up, meeting your darkened gaze. You almost fucking whine at the loss.

“Woah, hey.” His large hand covers your wrist, not pushing you away—thank God—but turning it over gently in his grasp, thumb sliding to rest over your racing pulse point. Even that simple touch has you squirming. “Easy, baby. ‘M gonna take real good care of you first, yeah?” 

It’s sweet. Really sweet.

In fact, it’s so sweet, that your pussy clenches around nothing, and that simply won’t cut it. The only thing it really does is make you want him even more. As in, like, as soon as fucking possible. You pinch your eyes shut, forehead thumping against his chest, before looking back up at him with the most pleading look you can muster. 

“Sam. Sweetheart. We’ve got about fifteen minutes before Dean barges in here ‘cause he’s bored,” you argue, and the tight-lipped, almost shy look he gives you almost has you melting right there. “Just need you. Right now. Please.”

Sam swallows hard, pulse thumping so hard in his throat that you can practically see it. The man is quite literally vibrating with need, a shaky breath escaping him as his eyes drop from yours, traveling back to your kiss-bitten lips. If he was attempting to be nobly subtle, he unfortunately fails. Miserably. 

“…I don’t wanna hurt you,” he lands on, and it’s so Sam that you have to fight the primal urge to shut him up with another kiss.

“You won’t.”

He opens his mouth again, probably to argue, or say something far too responsible for your liking, but instead, he loses. His mouth surges firmly back onto yours with such force that your head gets tilted back, and you let out your second embarrassing sound of the night, but he doesn’t seem to mind one bit. His tongue shoves right back through the seam of your lips, licking hot against yours with such fever that the situation in your jeans starts to become a little unbearable.

“Okay,” he concedes, mostly to himself, tugging his belt open in one sharp movement that probably shouldn’t make you nearly as stupid-horny as it does. You want to complain about not being able to do it yourself—but you forget every word of protest the second he tugs down his zipper, and your gaze lands on the throbbing bulge in his boxers. 

Yup. You’re going to be wet for fucking weeks.

“C’mere,” he purrs, his big, grabby hands scooping around your thighs, dragging you to the edge of the desk until you have to white-knuckle his shoulders to stay upright. He chuckles, the sound vibrating straight through you, his nimble fingers popping the button of your jeans, helping you to shimmy them away. You wiggle and squirm until they fall somewhere beneath Sam’s feet, and he kicks them aside, taking a greedy handful of your now bare ass. “So fuckin’ pretty.”

He latches his lips back just below the curve of your jaw, licking and suckling at your skin as his fingers squeeze hot over your thigh. Your eyes flutter closed, consumed by the arousal flooding your senses, and finally, fucking finally, you feel two thick fingers pull your ruined panties to the side. 

The fabric peels from your core, sticking to your drenched pussy as Sam’s fingers replace it swiftly, and oh, it’s electric. His breath comes faster than before, warm against your neck in punched-out puffs as your body reacts to him, arching into his touch. Two tough finger pads glide easily as he parts your folds, applying a ghost of pressure over your clit for one heavenly second before he’s circling your entrance. You’re dripping. Clenching around fucking nothing. And still—he’s teasing you slow with those unfairly hot dimples popping on his cheeks.

“Sam,” you scold, but God, it’s weak. Real fucking weak. And when one finger dips into your weeping cunt, you damn near cry. “Please, baby. C’mon...”

“Shhh…” he croons, sneaking a quick, mean kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Just makin’ sure you’re ready f’me.”

You don’t get to complain before he’s adding another digit, curling just right, dragging across that spongy, fluttery spot inside you that has your eyes rolling back, and has a broken gasp tearing from your lips. It’s like he intended to shut you up, and it absolutely worked.

“You weren’t kiddin’ about the cop thing, huh?” he teases, and you squeeze his fingers like some sort of warning. He full body shudders like you’ve just done it around his dick. “Soaking wet. Musta’ been a little uncomfortable, baby.”

“You have no idea.”

Your twitchy fingers snake right back between the two of you, this time dipping below his waistband. Your fist circles around his thick cock, and you relish in the very sexy groan he spills into your ear. He’s hard enough to hurt, leaking onto your palm, and he drags his fingers out of you just to help you free his throbbing dick in one quick movement. You can’t help but ogle as you pump him once, twice, nudging that fat cockhead between your folds, his thumb holding the soaked gusset of your panties to the side.

“Ready?” he asks, just one more time, those dark, blown pupils studying yours, glittering with arousal. 

“Shut up n’ fuck me already.”

Whatever hesitation he was holding onto snaps like a rubber band pulled too tight. He kisses you hard, a rough collision of teeth and tongue. One hand braces on the edge of the desk while the other guides his dick through your dripping pussy, collecting the slick that’s practically caked to your core. When he finally presses forward, it’s slow. So damn slow.

So slow that you feel every bit of the delicious stretch, and his pulse pounds against you in more ways than one. Your back bows into the feeling as your chest presses against his, heat exploding through every nerve ending.

You’re panting by the time you take half of him, and when he’s fully seated, you have to suck saliva back in through your teeth before you drool dumbly. Sam’s thumb slides off from your panties, opting to splay his full hand along the expanse of your inner thigh, holding you as wide as you can go. The pressure in your belly coils so hot that for a moment, you wonder how the hell you’ve survived over two weeks without this. 

A groan rips out of him, unfiltered and raw, and the second it hits your ears, it’s already vibrated through his chest and yours alike. Sam’s eyes slam shut for half a second like he’s just been electrocuted by the tight squeeze of your walls so perfectly around him. It’s beautiful, really, a sight that would have you dripping if you weren’t already. His jaw clenches hard, tendons standing out on his sweat-slick neck, fighting for control. His hips shift just slightly then, a gentle, testing rock that has fire licking up your spine.

“Fuck, yes,” you gasp, fingers curling around his strong forearm. And oh, that’s all he needed.

He pulls back gently, before snapping forward in a deep, enthusiastic roll. The desk creaks beneath you like it’s threatening to break, and suddenly, he’s not being so careful anymore. 

You wiggle in his grasp, a plea for more, and he doesn’t spare a single moment. He scoops one leg up high over his waist, hips canting into you with a new kind of fever. The pace he sets is dizzying, desperate, damn-near sob worthy, his thick cock splitting you in half so fucking perfectly that stars explode behind your eyelids. Each thrust presses you harder into the desk, his breath huffing ragged against your neck. You reach for him instinctively, fingers splaying everywhere you can reach, taking greedy fistfuls of Sam. 

“Y’take me so well,” he chokes, as he leans back to fuck you in powerful, measured strokes, driving you higher and higher with every slap of skin. His muscled abdomen clenches taut as arousal pulls at his belly, and you can feel the tension beneath your palm. “So—so fuckin’ good, just for me.”

White-hot pleasure crashes through you in waves with every ruthless pound. You barely have it in you to hold yourself upright, raising your hands so your fingers can dimple hard into the meat of Sam’s shoulder for even the slightest lick of leverage. Your cunt sucks him in like it was made to, the heavy upward curve of his cock brushing right fucking there, over and over and oh fuck, you can only hope the room is soundproof. 

“S-Sam, don’ stop, p-please—”

Gasps and moans and pleas tear from deep in your chest, ecstasy bubbling through you so hot, that you have to bury your face in the crook of Sam’s neck before you wake up the entire city. 

He hums into your hair, a smooth, comforting rumble, such a contrast to the way his cock bullies your sweet spot with every brutal thrust. Your lips find his throat, sucking sloppy kisses to his heated skin, but busying your mouth sure as hell doesn’t stop the string of cries from spilling into his ear.

“Oh, baby,” he coos, one arm slipping around your back to tangle in your hair, holding you tight to his chest. It leaves little space between you, if any at all—his hips snapping in quick, short thrusts that hit so deep that you swear you can taste it. “Feels so good, doesn’ it? So full? Tha’s what you needed, huh?”

“Mmm-hmm,” you manage, but it’s broken. So broken. It’s hard to remain coherent when you’re being fucked dumb, and Sam isn’t exactly leaving room for mercy. He squeezes his hand between you, thumb finding your clit with expert-level accuracy, and suddenly, you’re done.

You’re right there. Right fucking there. You tumble closer, closer, closer, until you’re teetering on the edge, dangling off, Sam’s perfect fingers and his perfect cock about to push you over, and—

“What the hell?!”

The sharp, deep voice of Dean-fucking-Winchester stops your orgasm cold like a silver blade slicing through flesh. Shock tears through you as you squeeze Sam tighter than a vice. His hips snap forward hard, way too fucking hard, his body enveloping yours as his palm slaps over your mouth to muffle your forced-out cry.

Sam’s torso practically crushes yours, sparing most of your dignity (thank God for those damn shoulders), your forehead thumping against his chest as his hand slips from your face. Your heart pounds like a snare drum against your ribcage, the strangest combination of sexual frustration and utter mortification washing through your veins.

“Get. Out,” Sam barks, quick, his strained voice sharp as he turns his head towards his brother. You’re suddenly incredibly thankful for your haste—because, hey, at least Sam’s jeans never made it below his waist—but yours sure as hell did, and your only cover is Sam’s body. You tilt your head just enough to peek through the sliver between Sam’s arm and his side, and oh. Oh God.

You’ve never seen Dean look like that before.

He’s white as a fucking sheet, and if you weren’t completely horrified, it would probably be hilarious. Standing in the doorway, he looks entirely scandalized, jaw hanging wide open, eyes threatening to pop right out of his skull, before he snaps out of it long enough to throw a hand over his eyes, turning his head away. 

“Yeah, I—don’t you think I’d freakin’ love to?” he spits, shaking his head like he’s seconds away from losing his mind completely. “I mean, Jesus, what are you two, high schoolers? You’d think—”

“Dean,” you choke, and Sam flinches like he’d forgotten you were there entirely. Which, well, is unlikely, considering the fact that he’s still buried to the hilt inside of you.

“We’ve gotta go. Now. Apparently my, uh, alarm disarming skills are pretty rusty,” he stammers, the hand that isn’t covering his eyes reaching for the door. “Put your freakin’ pants on, and go. There’s goddamn cops outside.”

Well, shit.

If that isn’t just worst case scenario, you’re not entirely sure what is. 

He finally stomps out of the room, muttering an irritated “seriously!” as he goes, and the second he does, a long puff of air floods from your lungs in a ragged sweep. Every cell in your body is practically vibrating for you just crawl in a hole, and never return—but there’s another part of you that’s just pissed. Because Christ, after waiting so fucking long, is a little bit of relief really that much to ask for?

You’re busy wallowing in your newfound despair, attempting to shuffle your ass backwards to get up, when two warm palms plant firmly on your cheeks, tilting your face up to look at his. Sam’s eyes are wide, undoubtedly panicked, brows pinched so hard that a sharp crease has formed between them. 

“Fuck—‘m so sorry. Are you—you okay?” His thumbs swipe at the sweat beading at your temples, touch gentle now, fingers shaking where they cradle your face. “Did I hurt you?”

“What? I’m fine, Sam,” you grumble, but that sure as hell doesn’t ease the look of pure concern on his sweet face. Still, you push yourself back just a little more, and he takes the hint, pulling out so tenderly that you barely even hiss at the feeling. “…Physically, anyway.”

“You’re sure? I just, Jesus, just fuckin’ manhandled you, baby.”

Somehow, that makes you laugh despite everything. “Pass me my jeans,” you snicker, and he moves quickly, following your command without another word. His free hand fumbles with the zipper of his pants, and you hop off the table on wobbly legs. 

But that fire in your core?

Apparently, a two-week dry spell turns you completely insatiable.

Sam stands again, passing you your now wrinkled jeans. But instead of taking them back right away, your hand lifts, curling around his collar again, pulling him close until only a lick of distance remains between your lips.

“We’re not done,” you whisper, and God, you watch his pupils swallow all colour in his eyes in real time.

“…Later?” he purrs.

“Later.”

AN: So, I’d actually planned to post something else, and then got distracted and wrote this in a couple of hours. My bad. Needed something fun 🤣

I’m going to take this opportunity to apologize for my very, very slow writing skills… there is so much going on in my life right now, it’s driving me crazy, and I can’t focus on my word porn as much as I’d love to. But hey, gimme a couple weeks, trust the process!

Taglist: @spectralgalaxygauntlet @vfwwm

[honeyteanocoffee]

omg this was fantastic!!! you did wonderful my love, be proud of yourself!!!!

sam winchester doesn't do quickies

strongly agree this boy wants to take his time and love you plus we all know this man is big and will make sure you're ready for him

apparently, the only thing better than two fake FBI agents is three.

this made me giggle lol. the winchesters are, infact, co-dependent puppy dogs. you can't love one without loving the other. and i honestly agree that dean would need reminders about boundaries and space, even though he's very happy that you and sam are together.

i found it so funny that he couldn't read social cues in this fic

you'd thrown away subtle nearly ten minutes ago, the moment Sam's beautifully long fingers started tracing the faded ink of some demonic sigil, and you had to resist every primal urge to lick the veins on his hand.

REAL

Y'know, I saw a dive a few blocks over.

as much as i wanted sam smut, dean was (unfortunately) so funny and i couldn't help but love him

me waiting for dean to leave so i can jump my man:

That big, Standford brain of his trying so hard to decipher where he's missed a cue.

oh my sweet boy. i choose to believe the only reason he wasn't ready to jump us as badly was because he's always so focused on being good, doing good, and saving people that he loses sight of his own needs when he's on a case.

and that gorgeous dimple that's just begun to show itself with the heated smirt that spreads across his lips

y'all i genuinely get feral when he smirks so yeah i would jump him in the library

He exhales into it, a warm puff against your cheek, as those big hands that have been haunting your fantasies slide up to cradle your jaw with infinite levels of care.

so on a serious note, i loved this. i can always imagine the way he would genuinely do this so it's a great line to describe sammy.

on a slightly less serious note, HIS HANDS!!! like what do i need to get him to hold my face like that

We're in a library...Dean's just outside

it's just his brain catching up bc all his blood went somewhere else

this was also so funny to me bc he knows what he's about to do and i know what we're about to do. like babe just throw me on the table and take your pants off NOW

Been soakin' wet since you bitched out that asshole cop earlier

He's just so hot when he's fighting with authority figures. Like he doesn't care about their "power," he cares about what's right. He's hot all the time but you get my point.

"Up"

okayyyyyyyy

You squeak, a sound that earns you the world's most panty-dropping snicker

sam winchester gets off on his partner making noises and no one can convince me otherwise. whether you just make them or he has to coax them from you, it makes him insanely cocky and proud and that just makes him hotter so it's a never-ending cycle.

'M gonna take real good care of you first, yeah?

he would be the kind of guy to insist on taking his time despite being in an unlocked room in a building you broke into with his brother. idk if this is what you intended, but (to me) it reads as if he just loves you so much and he's such a dedicated lover that it all leaves his brain when he's with you.

"You weren't kiddin' about the cop thing, huh?" he teases

ugh he's such a smart ass and a tease. i love him your honor.

seriously, smug sam is just criminally hot, like he melts my brain

sam's eyes slam shut for half a second like he's just been electrocuted by the tight squeeze of your walls so perfectly around him

poetry

his jaw clenches hard, tendons standing out on his sweat-slick neck, fighting for control. his hips shift just slightly then, a gentle, testing rock that has fire licking up your spine.

the pace he sets is dizzying, desperate, damn-near sob worthy, his thick cock splitting you in half so perfectly that stars explode behind your eyelids

"y'take me so well," he chokes, as he leans back to fuck you in powerful, measured strokes, driving you higher and higher with every slap of skin

i have no words

"feels so good, doesn' it? so full? tha's what you needed, huh?"

he's so fucking smug but i love him for it

Get. Out.

i know we just got caught, but that was so hot

you've never seen dean look like that before

first of all, i genuinely can't believe that you edged me like that. i was genuinely surprised that we got caught before finishing, but it was funny

i also found dean being so scandalized to be kind of cute because he's usually so nonchalant about talking about sex with sam but him reacting like this was like a testament to how he views us (the reader)

like he cares about us as individuals and as sam's partner

Jesus, just fuckin' manhandled you, baby

hell yeah you did and it was great. the way he just switches between such gentle care and being confident and smug gives me whiplash but it's also one of the reasons i love him–and you write it fantastically.

so, in conclusion, this was great and i need him to throw me on a desk and finish what he started.

lol i literally work at a library and i'm going to be thinking about this every time i'm alone for the closing shift.

if you got this far and you know how to resize photos on Tumblr please share bc i feel like they look HUGE and idk if that's a me problem or a tumblr problem (tumblr please don't get mad, i love you)

[alasdecas]

sorry was just scrolling and ur thoughts on this WONDERFUL AMAZING FIC literally read my mind lol!! but to resize pics there isn't a conventional way except using a transparant image on each side like this!

at first i copied and pasted the image to use but now i just saved it to camera roll, sometimes it doesn't like to work so i'd use the website briefly to add the image

[crashbandacoochie]

fyi if we’re mutuals you have full consent to be as feral as you want in asks and dms

[alasdecas]

I asketh thee a question: ya got any dirty thoughts about Dean?

I need to write some Dean focused smut and I have a little bit here and there but nothing really solid and I have no idea why lol bc I think about him almost as much as I think about Cas (even though I have the most written for Sam lol) so I just wanted to see if you had any ideas, big or small, for some fun times with Dean?

ouu for today!! lets see..

i think self concious! reader or dean, with reassurance and body worship, thigh job?, titty job, some rep for our bigger chested readers!! or curvy reader in general, praise and dirty talk from dean and yes!! that's all that is coming to my head today!!

but omg i'd love to chat with you and see what other ideas are roaming in that amazing brain of urs about dean, sam, cas or anybody!!

and if u had any marisam thoughts i'd actually ascend to heaven rn?!?! sorry i judt got off work and had a pretty shit day but feeling better with food anf finally being in bed

[alasdecas]

have u watched gilmore girls whuch team are u

i haven't actually! i want to soon tho i just have sm on my watch list!

[alasdecas]

always fighting the urge to not skip ahead and do marisam smut, marriage and family fics... i'll get there soon.. (one day far in the future😭) me and my problems with chronological order..

🏷️ @rh1nestcned @tayl0rsvers1on @reginaphalangelobster @amourflores @dontlistentodaisy @samiwinchester444 @dollivic

[alasdecas]

more mari sam👀👀👀

SOON TRUSTTT!!! i have 1 fic practically ready and then enough ideas to fill out the entire month if i actually put myself to work (besides my actual job) marisam is the loml so i really want to put out more fics for them asap!

[alasdecas]

when are we getting mari sam🥹

trust i have something ready just working on editing it!! it makes me so happy people are asking for them because i was just getting paranoid about it 😭💗

[alasdecas]

I'm sorry I'm probably too late but I've had this idea for a while now.

After Colour Theory, I'm thinking of starting a firsts series. All of your firsts with Sam, Dean and Cas. First meeting, kiss, when you both realize there's something more than friendship, first I love you, first hunt that got too close, first death - all the big ones. And for first times, I've wanted to write about a more inexperienced reader without making her dumb and naive and having a huge age gap or anything. Just someone who wanted to be safe for her first time, it didn't have to be love, but she needs some level of trust so she can back out when she wants to. I feel like I'd only write this with one of them so I'm thinking about writing it as a separate fic and just having firsts with each of them instead of overall firsts.

Any thoughts?

And numero dos, I'm working on a Priest!Sam x reader from an abusive household mini series and I was just wondering if you had any ideas. I posted the first part as a little drabble and I'd continue it in short instalments but I just really like the idea. Sam's not an actual priest, just in the get up, but I've been wanting to write stuff with more religious themes (the atheist said lol)

never too late don't worry!! pls send anything at any time!!

but that first series sounds so fucking amazing!! honestly i am also all for virgin reader who waits til it's someone she trusts & loves, like realistically there's probably been an amount of opportunities where she just didn't want to because it didn't feel 'right' it felt like it'd be regrettable? but the trust being a huge thing as well!!

you can have it as a standalone fic you can just attach to the main masterlist, with anyone of your choice but you know i'd say sam lol!!

as for the priest mini series, i really don't have any ideas :( like brains just coming up on empty ! i never wrote for religion or abuse,.. but from a book i read i'll just list a couple scenarios!

sam who has a feeling to keep reader, has a bad feeling to leave her home but no reassurance or evidence really, if she comes to church with an obvious bruise and makes up an excuse and he would be like you wouldn't lie to me right? and she's still very adamant on her story.. maybe a segment on how she's used to coming up with stories and telling them to protect her family, keep them together, especially with mom always making sure she does so, you can tie that into religion as well like parents manipulating it to make it part of their lives.

and when sam does find out maybe battling with those violent tendencies reader hasn't seen, she doesn't know what he really does, she opened up to him and he is considering running to her house and dragging her farher through the mud & it'd be ugly.. and i also think as an adult reader, maybe she's stayed for her siblings, taking care of them when mom disappears or protecting them from her father

in the actual book i'm referencing she confessed while the mmc was drugged so he didn't remember til he did and they were in high school so there was a different ending of like child services, adoption, court orders, restraining orders and warrants, so idk! just some scenes from it to give you any ideas! let me know

if you want me to delete this once you see it!

[sp00kiep00kie49]

Sam winchester side profile appreciation