This is an intimate scene that I had to tone down eventually took out of Reunited. I like to write these out as intense as I can get them then for the sake of plot reel it back so it'll make it more simmering.
This one is kind of a wild card. I kind of feel like Sam would do this.
Also this one is kinda cringe to me. At least some bits of the dialogue...I didn't know how else to ya know — anyway you'll see what I mean.
I'm hoping to have Reunited done within the next year hints why these are taking me so long to get out.
Anyway this is another Sam POV, I hope you guys like that. I sure do. More fun to write from his eyes.
(Y/N) lay stretched out on her blanket, the afternoon sun soaking into her skin. Her old black bikini top clung to her with thin, fraying strings—one light pull and the whole thing might come undone. A pair of worn denim shorts rode low on her hips.
I couldn't help but watch. The way the fabric hugged her, the curve of her back, the way her hair spilled across the blanket—it pulled my attention like gravity. It wasn't just her body. It was her—how completely absorbed she was in her book, how her fingers traced each word like it mattered.
I kept thinking about how tentative her lips were against mine. Though they never touched it was an improvement. She let me in, but held back, just enough to keep me guessing. That hesitation bloomed into something sharp in my chest.
I muttered, "Focus, Sam," and leaned into Bandit's open hood, hands on the engine. But my eyes drifted. Again.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket.
I hesitated, thumb hovering. Across the yard, (Y/N) shifted slightly on her blanket. One bikini string pulled taut across her back.
"Hey, man. How's it going over there? You and (Y/N) okay?" Dean's voice was casual—but probing, like he knew.
"We're good. How's the drive?"
"Not bad. About five hours out from Black Creek," he said. Then, after a beat: "What's going on?"
"Nothing," I said, trying to sound normal. But the sunlight on (Y/N)'s skin had burned a hole through my focus. "Why do you ask?"
"She's there with you, right?"
Silence. Then: "What's she wearing?"
"What? I'm just trying to picture your suffering."
I sighed. "Bikini top. Shorts."
Dean whistled low. "Damn man," I could hear his hand beat against the steering wheel. "That's cruel and unusual punishment. And she's just... lounging?"
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Can we not?"
"You poor bastard, please tell me you haven't been staring at her this whole time."
"I changed (name of your car) oil."
Dean laughed. "Was that before or after she came out of the house half-naked?"
I scrubbed a hand down my face, eyes drifting back to her again. She was chewing on her bottom lip, flipping a page before scribbling down notes.
"You dirty dog," Dean said, utterly delighted. "Man, you're hopeless. Seriously, I'm not just messing with you—I know how you get. You'll sit on your hands and brood until you miss your shot."
"Not into her?" he snorted. "Please. You two weren't exactly subtle last night - I saw her hand on you man. Also, you walked out of her room this morning."
"She asked me to stay with her until she fell asleep," I didn't have to defend myself, but with Dean I needed an excuse. If there wasn't one he'd make up scenarios.
"Her and I aren't like that—"
"Then make it like that. Sometimes you've gotta use your teeth to make an impression, Sam."
"That's the worst advice I've ever heard." It wasn't. It was actually kind of good. Just... sounded worse coming out of his mouth.
Dean's tone dropped, the sound of the car door closing emanating from the other side. "Bobby and I won't hit Black Creek Ridge for another five, six hours. That's a long time to stand there creeping, before my next check in."
"I'd prefer if you didn't," I muttered.
"Uh-huh. And why is that?"
Once again I stayed silent this time to save myself the slip up of telling Dean more than he should ever know about my love life.
"Don't kid yourself, Romeo. She's a tough one."
I sighed. "I'll talk to you later."
I ended the call and slid the phone back into my pocket.
Across the yard, (Y/N) looked up at that exact moment. Her eyes caught mine and didn't look away. She tilted her head, brows raised, like she was trying to read me from a distance.
Then she stood—slowly, deliberately. The thin strings of her bathing suit traced delicate lines over her shoulders. She slung her blanket over one shoulder and walked toward me.
Every step pulled me tighter. The soft sway of her hips. The long lines of her legs. There was grace in the way she moved—casual, confident, but with a careful edge. Like she knew exactly what she was doing to me.
She stopped close. Close enough to feel the heat rolling off her.
Her cheeks were flushed. Her lips parted—just slightly, like she wanted to say something or maybe didn't have to.
Finally, she smiled—soft, a little shy—and whispered, "Hey, Sam."
"Whatcha reading?" I asked, reaching for the book. My fingers brushed hers as she pulled it away with a smirk.
"Nothing important," she teased. But the paper tabs sticking out said otherwise.
Her grin deepened. "Where's the fun if you've got me figured out?"
I laughed. Felt lighter than I had in weeks. Months. All that pretending not to care didn't matter anymore. The way she looked at me told me she felt it too.
"It's research, actually," she said, handing me the book. "Figured I'd read up on the dickhead."
The Book of Enoch. Dozens of sticky notes poked out, scribbled over with shorthand and ink-smudged thoughts.
I raised a brow. "You calling Aza a dickhead, or me?"
She grinned. "You're tolerable. He's not."
(Y/N) stepped a little closer, eyes gleaming. "I like knowing what I'm dealing with. Helps me keep the upper hand."
"You already have it," I said—honest, before I could stop myself.
She blinked, startled, then gave me that look. The one that undid me.
"Yeah?" she asked, softer now.
I rubbed the back of my neck. "You're not exactly easy to ignore, (Y/N)."
She studied me. The silence stretched—but not awkward. Charged.
Then she looked away, her mouth twitching. "Good."
We stood in that strange little stillness until I cleared my throat and handed the book back.
"Who were you on the phone with?" she asked, all mischief again.
She grinned. "Ah. Making sure I haven't turned you into a puddle?"
I chuckled. "Something like that."
She tilted her head, amused. "What's got you all tangled up, Winchester?"
I tried to dodge it. "Just... the car."
She laughed. "You can do better than that."
Her fingers brushed mine again, deliberate. Something inside me jumped.
"You've got that look," she murmured. "Like you're trying really hard not to think about something or someone."
Her smile curled, a dare. "You can share with the class."
I smirked, feeling myself draw her closer. If I wasn't careful I'd be giving into a feeling I could t control. "No, it's alright."
"No fun," she tapped the side of (car's name). "How's my baby, Doc?"
"All clear for the road," I said, steady.
She leaned in, brushing her hip against mine. "Think he can keep up with me?"
I matched her smirk. "He's tough. Might surprise you."
Her eyes flicked up. "You sure you're ready to handle all that?"
I caught the double meaning and held her gaze. "I don't back down from a challenge."
She laughed low, slow and warm. "Good."
Her eyes flicked from my lips to my eyes as she leaned against the car. The bikini top doing nothing to help the situation.
She shifted closer, hips brushing mine as she leaned in, eyes locked on mine like she was daring me. The heat radiating off her was impossible to ignore, and the scent of sun-warmed skin and faint vanilla teased my senses.
Her fingers traced a slow line down my arm, the touch electric, deliberate. I caught her wrist gently, holding it against me, heart pounding.
The space between us disappeared.
She didn't stop. Her lips parted slightly, just barely, as if she was about to speak—or maybe just to taste me.
I swallowed hard. The pull was overwhelming. "(Y/N)..."
Her hand slid up, fingers curling softly into my hair. Her eyes flicked to my mouth, then back to my eyes, and her smile was the kind that promised trouble.
Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer as if she needed the space between our bodies to vanish entirely. My breath hitched the moment her lips brushed mine—soft, teasing, like a question whispered against my skin.
I didn't hesitate. I deepened the kiss, tasting the warmth and the quiet invitation beneath it. Her hands slid from my hair to my chest, tracing the lines of muscle through my shirt, fingertips pressing just enough to make my pulse quicken.
She pulled back just enough to catch her breath, eyes shining with mischief and something softer—something vulnerable.
"Sam," she murmured, voice thick with promise and caution all at once.
I cupped her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks as I looked into those deep blue eyes—so fierce, so delicate all at once. The afternoon sun caught the curve of her collarbone, the bare skin between her bikini top and shorts glowing with sweat.
Her top was barely holding her, the thin strings stretched tight over her breasts, teasing with every shallow breath she took. The shorts rode low on her hips, revealing just enough to drive me crazy.
My hands slid down from her waist, fingers grazing the soft skin no exposed at her ribs. She shivered under my touch, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before opening again to meet mine.
Slowly, I traced the outline of her bikini top, fingertips lingering over the swell of her breast before teasing the thin string that held it together. She swallowed hard, lips parted.
I leaned in, lips ghosting over her neck, tasting the salt of her skin. She tilted her head back, exposing more to me, her breath catching in soft gasps.
One hand slipped under the hem of her shorts, tracing the smooth skin of her hip. Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer as her other hand slid down my chest to rest over my heart, steady and wild all at once.
The air between us thickened, the world narrowing to the heat of our bodies pressed close, the promise of something burning just beneath the surface.
"Don't stop," she whispered, voice shaky but commanding.
My lips found hers again, slower this time, tracing every contour like I was committing her to memory. Her hands tangled in my hair, fingers gripping as if she needed to hold on to something real in the swirl of heat between us.
The sun caught the glisten of sweat on her skin, and I wanted to drink it all in—every inch of her tempting curves outlined by that fragile bikini top and those soft shorts.
She pulled back just enough to breathe, her lips parted and cheeks flushed with desire. Her eyes locked onto mine, heavy-lidded and searching, daring me to take the next step without breaking the fragile thread between us.
I didn't hesitate. My hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her closer, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her bikini top. The scent of sun-warmed skin and wildflowers wrapped around us.
My fingers slipped under the waistband of her shorts, testing boundaries, teasing without quite crossing the line. Her breath hitched—half anticipation, half tension. I leaned in, lips grazing the curve of her jaw, my voice low and rough against her skin.
"You tell me," I murmured, letting my hand drift lower, just brushing over the top of her thigh. I watched her shake under my touch.
"Do we stay out here... let the sun watch us—" I kissed the corner of her mouth, soft but loaded with promise, "—or do I take you inside, lay you down, and make you forget your own damn name?"
Her eyes fluttered shut, chest rising and falling with the weight of decision. I held still, letting her choose—because if this was going to happen, it had to be her call.
Her eyes snapped open, locking on mine with a heat that stole my breath. No hesitation. No second-guessing.
"Inside," she whispered. That one word broke whatever restraint I had left.
I stood first, reaching down to pull her up, but she was already rising, chest brushing mine as she stepped in close, her body flush against me. Her hands gripped the sides of my shirt, fisting the fabric like she was holding herself together by threads.
We didn't speak as we moved—just exchanged glances that burned and breaths that staggered. I opened the door, barely getting it shut behind us before she backed me against it, her mouth claiming mine, more desperate now, more certain.
I let her set the pace—hands in her hair, fingers skimming bare skin between her shorts and bikini top, tugging her closer until there was no space left to think. She whimpered against my mouth, fingers slipping under my shirt, dragging it up, nails lightly scoring my skin as it came off.
My hands moved to her hips, thumbs brushing the curve just beneath her waistband.
"Are you sure?" I rasped, voice thick, body barely holding back the need pulsing through me.
She nodded, but that wasn't enough—I needed her to say it.
She met my eyes, lips parted. "I want you, Sam."
I lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around me instinctively. We moved through the house in a fevered rush—kissing, touching, breaking apart only long enough to catch a breath and find the next wall, the next room, the next place to fall into each other.
By the time we hit the bedroom, her shorts were undone, my jeans half-off, and nothing existed outside of the way she looked at me—like I was hers, and maybe I always had been.
She reached for me again, lips brushing mine, hungry and soft all at once. My hands skimmed her waist, feeling the give of her body beneath my palms, the heat between us ready to catch fire.
But something hit me—just beneath the desire, under the urgency pulsing in my blood.
She wasn't just a craving I needed to satisfy. She was (Y/N). The girl I used to trip over myself for, the one I hadn't been able to get out of my head since the first time she said my name. And here she was, standing in front of me like a goddamn wildfire, ready to burn for me.
I kissed her again, slower this time, one hand moving to the back of her neck. I let the weight of it settle in.
Her breath caught, and she leaned into me like she was giving in—not just to the kiss, not just to the heat between us, but to something bigger. Something neither of us had dared say out loud until now.
Her hands stilled against my chest, splayed wide like she was memorizing the shape of me. Then she pulled back just an inch, lips swollen, eyes searching mine like she was trying to decide if this was real.
"Sam," she whispered, my name almost fragile in her mouth.
"Yeah?" My voice was rougher than I intended, but I didn't care.
Her fingers curled in my shirt again, anchoring herself. "If we do this..." she hesitated, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, "...I don't think I'll be able to stop."
That hit deeper than any touch could. My chest tightened, guilt and longing colliding all at once. I brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, forcing her to see me, all of me.
"As far as I know you're mine."
Her eyes searched mine, testing, weighing if I meant it. And then—slowly—her shoulders softened, a small smile breaking through like sunlight after a storm.
"Good," she said, voice steady this time.
That spark in her tone undid me. I laughed—quiet, breathless—before crashing my lips back to hers. This time it wasn't frantic. It wasn't rushed. It was deep, certain, a promise sealed in the press of mouths and the slide of hands.
She melted into me, and I into her, the weight of years—hesitations, half-glances, unspoken words—falling away like dust. What was left was raw and real.
Her back hit the sheets, the thin fabric of the blanket pulling under her as I followed her down. Her breath stuttered against my mouth, her body arching, desperate to close the last inches between us.
My hands skimmed down, sliding beneath the hem of her shorts and tugging them low, slow enough to make her whimper, quick enough to drive me mad. She lifted her hips, helping me peel them away, leaving nothing but the thin strings of that worn bikini bottom between us.
"God, (Y/N)," I rasped, letting my palms map every inch of bare skin. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"
Her fingers fisted in my hair, tugging until I met her eyes. The heat in them nearly undid me. "Show me."
That was all the permission I needed. My mouth trailed from her lips to her throat, tasting the salt of her skin, the shiver that raced through her when I nipped at the soft spot just below her ear. Her nails dragged down my back, urging me closer, until I pressed hard against the heat between her thighs.
She gasped, hips tilting, searching for friction. My grin ghosted against her collarbone. "Impatient."
"Sam—" her voice cracked, breathless.
I hooked a finger in the thin string at her hip, tugging it loose. The bikini bottom slipped easily away, leaving her bare beneath me. I paused, just for a second, drinking her in—flushed, open, eyes dark with want. My chest tightened at the sight.
"You're beautiful," I murmured, honest, before lowering my mouth to her skin.
Her head fell back, a soft cry spilling from her lips as my tongue traced fire down her stomach. I gripped her thighs, holding her steady, spreading her open for me. Every sound she made, every shift of her body, pulled me deeper under.
"Sam—please," she begged, voice breaking.
Her thighs trembled in my grip as I settled between them, tasting her, slow at first—long, deliberate strokes of my tongue that made her gasp and clutch at the sheets. Her hips bucked, desperate, chasing every movement, and I held her down just enough to savor the way she fell apart.
"Sam—oh, God—" her voice cracked, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer, urging me faster.
I gave her exactly what she needed, sucking, teasing, working her until her cries filled the room, sharp and unrestrained. Her body bowed off the bed, shuddering as the first wave hit, but I didn't stop—I dragged her higher, deeper, until she was shaking, begging, nails raking down my shoulders.
When I finally pulled back, her chest was heaving, lips swollen and parted, sweat slicking her skin. She looked wrecked—and gorgeous. My chest burned just watching her.
I crawled back up, kissing her hard, letting her taste herself on my tongue. She moaned into my mouth, pulling at my jeans, fumbling them open until I helped, shoving them off in a desperate tangle.
Her hand slid down, wrapping around me, and I groaned, burying my face in her neck.
"(Y/N)," I ground out, almost undone by just that touch. "If you keep that up—"
She smirked, breathless, biting my ear. "That's the point."
I caught her wrist, pinning it above her head against the sheets. "Not yet."
Her eyes went wide, pupils blown with heat. "Then don't tease me, Sam. Please. I need you."
Those words broke whatever restraint I had left. I pressed into her, sliding just enough to feel the slick heat of her body part for me. Her breath hitched.
"Tell me you want this," I rasped, my lips at her ear.
"I want you," she whispered, trembling. "All of you."
I pushed inside, slow, deep, until she gasped my name like a prayer. Her legs wrapped around me instantly, pulling me closer, locking me against her. The heat, the tightness—it nearly unraveled me right there.
I moved slow at first, savoring every sound that fell from her lips, every arch of her body against mine. But soon she was meeting me thrust for thrust, moaning, begging for more, until I lost myself completely in the rhythm of her.
Her nails dug into my back, leaving sharp little trails that only drove me harder. Every time I pushed into her, her body tightened around me, pulling me deeper, holding me like she never wanted to let go.
"Sam—" she gasped, head thrown back, sweat-slick hair sticking to her temples.
I caught her jaw in my hand, forcing her eyes on mine. "Look at me."
Her gaze locked with mine, wide and wild, and something in my chest cracked open. I kissed her hard, swallowing the cry that tore from her throat as I thrust deeper, harder, until she was trembling under me.
Her legs squeezed around my waist, locking me in, and she rolled her hips up to meet me in a rhythm that made my breath falter. The sounds she made—raw, unfiltered—echoed through the room, each one pulling me closer to the edge.
"You feel so damn good," I growled against her ear, my voice rough, broken by the force of it.
Her answer was a desperate moan, her hands clawing at me, dragging me closer, like she wanted me under her skin. "Don't stop—please, don't stop."
The pace built between us—urgent, consuming—until the only thing that existed was the heat of her body and the way she whispered my name like it was the only word she knew.
Her whole body arched suddenly, a sharp cry ripping from her lips as she came around me, clutching tight, trembling so hard it nearly undid me. I held on through it, driving her higher, until the pull of her release dragged me over the edge with her.
With a groan that shook through my chest, I buried myself deep, spilling into her as the world shattered apart around us. My body bucked once, twice, before I collapsed against her, gasping, my forehead pressed to hers.
Her heart pounded against mine, both of us trembling, caught in the aftershock of something that felt bigger than just heat.
She cupped my face, her thumb brushing sweat from my cheek, eyes soft but steady. "Sam..." she whispered, breathless, her voice somewhere between wonder and warning.
I kissed her, slow this time, nothing urgent—just grounding, anchoring myself in the reality that this was her, and she was here, and she was mine.
Her chest was still rising fast under mine, but slowly the frantic edge of it softened. I stayed inside her, not ready to break the connection, not ready to let her go. My nose brushed against her temple as I pressed small, lingering kisses to her damp skin.
Her fingers combed lazily through my hair, grounding me in a way nothing else ever could. For once, there wasn't noise in my head—no hunt, no weight of the past, no ghosts. Just her, warm and real beneath me.
I shifted, rolling onto my side, pulling her with me so she stayed pressed against my chest. She curled into me without hesitation, her bare legs tangling with mine, her head tucked beneath my chin. The blanket had slipped halfway off the bed, but neither of us reached for it. The heat between us was enough.
For a long moment, we just breathed together. Her hand rested flat over my heart, her thumb drawing slow circles that made my chest ache in the best way.
"Sam," she murmured, voice soft, almost shy now.
She tilted her face up, eyes searching mine. "You're quiet. What's going on in there?"
I swallowed hard, my hand tracing the curve of her spine. I could dodge it. I could make a joke. I could bury it like I always did. But looking at her now—flushed, glowing, her lips swollen from my kiss—I couldn't. Not this time.
"I'm scared," I admitted, the words catching in my throat.
Her brows drew together, but she didn't pull away. "Of what?"
"Of this." My hand tightened gently at her waist. "Of you. Of how much I..." I trailed off, shaking my head, frustrated at how impossible it was to put into words.
Her thumb brushed over my cheek, steady. "Say it, Sam."
I drew a shaky breath, holding her gaze like it might keep me from breaking. "I feel too much when I'm with you. More than I should. More than I can control."
The silence that followed was heavy, my pulse loud in my ears. For a second, I thought I'd ruined it—that I'd pushed too far, too fast.
But then she smiled, soft and fierce all at once. "Good," she whispered, leaning in until her forehead pressed to mine. "Because I feel it too."
Relief and want tangled inside me, crashing through me so strong it nearly knocked the air from my lungs. I kissed her again, slow and deep, pouring everything I couldn't say into the way my mouth moved against hers.
When I pulled back, I whispered into the quiet: "I don't ever want to lose this. I don't ever want to lose you."
She curled tighter against me, her lips brushing my chest. "You won't."
Before I could answer, she shifted. Her hand slid down my stomach, slow and deliberate, until I realized what she was doing. With a soft laugh, she rolled on top of me, straddling my hips. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, framing her face, her eyes dark and daring.
"(Y/N)...?" My voice came out rough, already betraying me.
Her smile curved, dangerous and sweet.
Her hips pressed down, grinding against me, and my breath left me in a sharp hiss. She leaned in, her hands braced on my chest, lips grazing my jaw as she whispered, "I'm yours."
Heat flared in me all over again. My hands found her thighs, sliding up to her waist, gripping tight as I groaned under the slow roll of her body.
"You're gonna kill me," I rasped.
She smirked, kissing the corner of my mouth. "That's the plan."
She rose just enough to position herself, teasing, dragging me against her slick heat until I was ready to break. Then she sank down, slow and steady, her head tipping back as a breathless moan slipped from her lips. The sight of her—arching above me, her body taking me in—nearly undid me on the spot.
"Christ, (Y/N)," I groaned, my hands sliding up to her hips, holding her steady as she rocked against me.
Every movement drove me deeper, the slick slide of her body clutching around me like it was made for me. Her moans—high, breathless, unrestrained—spilled into the air with each roll of her hips, and every sound shot straight through me, tearing at the last threads of my control.
She rode me with a rhythm that was both deliberate and desperate, grinding down hard, then lifting just enough to let me sink all the way back inside her. The friction was maddening, her heat wrapped tight around me, her thighs trembling as she worked herself against me.
Her nails raked across my chest, dragging red trails over muscle before she leaned down, biting at my lip in a kiss that was all hunger and fire. Her hair fell like a curtain around us, her breath mingling with mine, her body moving with a wild, reckless need.
"Sam," she gasped, her voice breaking on my name as she slammed down harder, faster, her breasts bouncing against my chest with each movement. Her walls fluttered around me, clenching with every thrust, pulling me closer to the edge.
I gritted my teeth, digging my hands into her hips, and drove up to meet her pace—sharp, deep thrusts that made her cry out, her head tipping back as her nails clawed down my arms.
The sound of her, the sight of her riding me like she'd lose herself if she stopped, had me growling her name, my body slamming up into hers again and again until the bedframe creaked beneath us.
She clung to me, her thighs squeezing tight around my waist, and then her whole body seized, shuddering violently as she came undone. Her moans broke into sharp cries, her nails sinking deep as her release pulsed around me, milking me, dragging me straight into the fire with her.
"Fuck—" I groaned, jerking up into her, burying myself deep as release ripped through me. I spilled into her hard, clutching her close, every muscle straining as I rode the waves crashing through us both.
She collapsed forward, chest pressed to mine, both of us shaking, gasping, soaked in sweat and heat. Her lips found my throat, soft, trembling kisses against my skin, and I wrapped my arms around her, holding her like I'd never let go.
