⋆tina⋆

requests are off

[ohangeleyes]

݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆ tinababy𓂀 she/her. legal. ♊︎ sun ♍︎ moon ♎︎︎ asc. enfp. ⌗ i go both ways ᥫ᭡. bilingual. ⓘ misandrist&&leftist.

⤷ ゛ looking for something ? ˎˊ Ი𐑼 masterlist. taglist. rules. i don't take requests !!

© ohangeleyes copying or using my work as your own is strictly prohibited.

[violained]

ooze out and away

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summary a soft moment with sam when his mind is too fuzzy.

content gn!reader, established relationship, hurt/comfort, soft cuddling and kisses, use of honey and baby. sam loves reader very much!

requested ♡

˗ˏˋയ

Sam's fingers tug gently at a fray of your sweater, head in a deep fog and trying to focus on only you through it's viscosity. The rise and fall of your sternum under his chin, the dough of your skin in his warm hold on your waist.

It's difficult today, to push everything away. Snarling thoughts come in waves, loud to quiet and loud again, no matter how squeezing his blinks are, no matter how cold the water splashed onto his face is. He can't muzzle them all, they keep biting with indenting canines.

But your index and middle begin to soothe at the ache of his temple, and you're warm. You smell like fresh linen and honeyed milk, a pillowed dream, and he can feel you below him, hear your slow inhales and exhales and the mattress creaking as he shifts.

His lashes pull apart from their dark press. You smile, his chest knots up, and the pad of your thumb glides down his cheekbone. So light, a feathering touch that pulls a long breath into his teeth. He can breathe without feeling so much prickling now.

"Hi," you hum, voice a quiet balm. In no rush.

"Hi, honey," he replies. "Am I crushing you?"

You shake your head. A loosening in his body.

"Not at all," you whisper.

Knuckles down to his jaw and caressing, his hazel eyes gleam half-lidded for you, and he pushes himself up on an elbow. His forehead sticks to yours, fingers petal soft up your side before his palm fits beneath your back to hold you closer, secure.

He needs you here for a long, long time.

The fog thins out, only a mesh veil before him. He can see your lovely face better like this, so close to his. You make his heart hiccup, you send a slough of good ache up his throat.

"It's all a lot right now," he says. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," you assure, nose nudging the tip of his. "You haven't done anything wrong, Sammy. You're okay."

He could cry, but he won't. Your safe hands move to hold his cheeks, your delicate lips grant a plethora of sweet kisses in a swath above his brow. The voices soothe and simmer out into a background buzz, lower with every touch.

His eyelids flutter. "Can you do that forever?"

"Forever," you accede.

When he closes his eyes, it's not dark at all. You're still there, plucking everything else away, and the fog breaks to reveal a glowing, warm light.

"Thanks, baby. Love you."

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masterlist ♡

[violained]

how sammy takes care of sick!you !

cw use of baby, honey & angel, one mention of vomit.

masterlist ; divider ; requested

⊹ although sam hates watching you suffer, he loves taking care of you and thinks he was always meant to. he notices your movements as they become drowsy and sluggish, hears a slight croak to your voice and a poorly hidden sniffle, and is immediately on high alert.

"c'mon, baby. just lay down, please."

his hands are so gentle as they guide you into bed, and he gathers your temperature with the back of one.

"you're sick," he concludes. "s'okay, angel."

⊹ he fixes you mugs of tea and brings light snacks in an attempt to get you to eat at least something. he places the steaming cup on your bedside table and softly coaxes you to sit up against the pillows.

"there you go. can you try a few bites of this toast for me?"

⊹ if you feel a rise of nausea, sam carefully hurries you towards the bathroom and sweeps a warm hand in circles over your back while you hurl into the toilet. he doesn't care about how gross it may be and sits with you for however long you need. when the sick passes, he wipes at your mouth with a damp washcloth.

"feel better now, honey? yeah?"

"d'you wanna get back in bed? i'll carry you."

⊹ when your fingers tangle through the fabric of his shirt to keep him in bed with you, he stays and acts as a big pillow for your aching, tired self. you'll doze off with a furrow to your brow, cheek squished on his chest, drooling. sam only smiles and tucks you closer.

"i've got you, don't worry. always got you."

[doveysalt]

LAUNDRY DAY // sam winchester

summary: laundry day rolls around, and sam is stuck guarding your clothes. he has too much time on his hands. word count: 1.3k tags: gn!reader (be warned: you're not very present here lol); sam's pov; pervert!sam; panty stealing; semi-public masturbation; scent kink. a/n: daydreamed about this in the middle of a busy work day and couldn’t stop smiling. i know where home is. anyway, here’s part one billion of sam jerking off in different locations because god knows he needs it to calm the hell down!!

Not many know this, but laundry day is one of the busiest days for a hunter — especially for the Winchesters. Living out of a bag isn’t the tidiest of work, especially when the brothers have to account for their many, many costume changes — fake police uniforms, safety vests, fitted suits and priestly attire. 

You find the whole thing absolutely hilarious. Compared to other hunters you’ve met, the Winchesters are by far the most committed to their craft.

“Is this… a Buc-ee’s uniform?” You snort whilst sorting the laundry into piles — lights on the left, darks on the right. You’re all in agreement that it’s best to pile everyone’s clothes together — family style — to save on money. You certainly don’t have the funds to complain.

Sam glances at you, huffing out a laugh. The cartoonish, buck-toothed beaver grins maniacally on the chest of the bright red T-shirt. “Yeah. Weird case, that one.”

You grin, holding the shirt against you as if seriously considering whether you should borrow it or not. It wouldn’t be the first time you shared clothes with Sam; he always has to downplay how much he likes the sight. “Did the case involve Buc-ee haunting the gas station, or…?”

“I’ll tell you about it later,” he says with a small smile. He cringes a moment later when he lifts a pair of Dean’s dirty boxers up. He picks it up by the waistband with the very tips of his fingers, tossing it in with the dark pile. “God, this is gross. Dean, come touch your own stuff, man.” 

“In a second,” the older brother calls back, punching his thumb into the keypad of the laundromat’s vending machine. Dean returns to his station a moment later with a small bag of peanut M&M’s and a handful of quarters for the machine. He lets them clang against the top of the washer before looking between you two with a smile. “Hey, wanna vote on who gets to stay with the stinky socks?”

Sam glances at his brother, squinting. “And how, exactly, are we gonna decide that?” Nobody wants to be stuck sitting around with the laundry — everybody knows that.

“Easy,” Dean says. He touches his nose, quickly muttering, “Nose goes!” 

Before Sam can react, you drop a pair of your own pants to touch the tip of your nose. He sends you a look of absolute betrayal, and you shrug, smiling innocently. 

“What? He said nose goes, Sam. I have to respect it.”

Sam’s shoulders sink, and Dean pats his back with a shit-eating grin. “Tough luck, kid.” 

Once the three of you have sorted the laundry into piles, Dean hooks an arm around your shoulders, flashing a smile at his little brother. 

“We’re gonna play hooky. Call us when the chores are done, Sammy.”

You shoot Sam a pitying look, gently removing yourself from Dean’s side. “See you. Don’t have too much fun.”

The younger brother wears a tight smile, watching you leave with his brother, driving off to who-knows-where. He deflates once he’s alone in the laundromat, leaning against the washing machine with a heavy sigh. He begins to shove the clothing into the washing machine — lights in one, then on to the darks in a second machine. In the middle of tossing piles of clothes into the machine, something drops to the floor. Sam bends down to pick it up, only to stop in his tracks. 

Navy blue underwear, clearly yours, lay innocently upon the linoleum floor. Sam’s fingers twitch, still halfway to daintily picking them up and throwing them in with the rest of the load.  

Unfortunately, Sam’s cock twitches, too. 

He shouldn’t be this invested in a pair of underwear. They’re nothing spectacular — there’s not much time for sexy lingerie or lacy panties on the road — but they look soft. Gently worn and lived in. A vision of you wearing one of his shirts with a comfortable pair of underwear beneath is beamed directly into his brain, and he blinks hard, trying to will the arousing yet domestic image away. 

He’s going to pick them up, Sam tells himself, and he’s going to toss them in with the rest of the laundry. Simple as that. He’s not going to be weird about this. He’s certainly not the type to steal them like some creep.

…But he could always borrow them. Just for today — just for a few minutes, really. You’ve borrowed his clothes before, after all. What’s so different about this? 

Even Sam knows that explanation is flimsy bullshit, but it’s all he can offer when he suddenly shoves your underwear down his back pocket and sets the washer to run. The next hour and a half or so will surely be a miserable, boring wait anyway — he might as well have some entertainment. 

Sam glances around him before scurrying off to the restroom in the back corner. He locks the door behind him, presses his back to the door, and reaches for the underwear in his pocket. The fabric bunches up in his palm, crumpled in his big hand. Just looking at it is making him half-hard already. 

Hesitantly, Sam lifts the underwear to his face. He’s terribly curious to know what you smell like — even if pressing the gusset of your panties to his nose makes him blush from the shame of it. Sam inhales deeply, audibly sighing on the exhale. Every fantasy he’s ever had about stuffing his face between your legs is suddenly about to get far more vivid. 

Sam audibly moans, parting his lips against the fabric. He breathes against it for a minute, hot air blowing past his lips. Without thinking, he closes his mouth around the cotton gusset, sucking on your underwear. It’s embarrassing how he’s salivating, his spit wetting the navy dye into black. 

His jeans are already so fucking tight. Sam stuffs your panties in his mouth, holding them in place between his teeth while he reaches down, hastily pops the button, and parts the zipper’s teeth. The second his fingers curl around his cock, Sam stiffens further, standing at attention. He aggressively pumps his cock with his fist, drooling into your underwear all the while. The heady scent of you has him moaning into the cotton, his head thudding back against the door while he leaks into his palm. 

It’s not enough. 

Still drooling, Sam pulls the garment from his mouth, draping it around his stiff cock. He closes his damp hand over it, then begins the friction anew. Your panties are dragged up and down his shaft, getting soaked in spit and precum, until the fabric is little more than a damp rag for him to fuck into. Sam can still taste you, the flavor of your used undergarment lingering on his tongue. He groans, lashes fluttering as he gets off, finally cumming on your underwear with a stuttered sigh. 

When the post-orgasm clarity hits, Sam slumps against the door, still clutching the soiled panties around his softened cock. The fabric is utterly soaked through with fluids. Sam grimaces at his own handiwork, dragging your underwear over his cock to wipe up the overspill. Now that he’s holding the damp garment in his hand, he’s not sure what to do with it — but the sight of his cum soaking your underwear is truly picture-worthy. With shaking hands, he dares to flip open his phone to snap a photo. Something for later, he tells himself, that isn’t so deplorable. 

Sam washes his hands and reluctantly rinses off your underwear. He’s careful to make sure no one’s around — the laundromat is still empty, thankfully — and Sam quickly tosses your underwear in to be cleaned with the rest of the load. It’s out of his system now. 

Until he plucks them out of the dryer and stuffs them right back into his pocket, that is. A dirty little secret, a last minute decision that has him blushing. It’s fine, he assures himself. He’ll give them back the next time you have to do the laundry. 

You certainly won’t miss a single pair until then, right?

> masterlist. > main.

tag list . . . @ravenhood2792 @fuiabarcelos @bitesizedtales @sammy-simp

[ohangeleyes]

⤷ ゛𝐖𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 ˎˊ˗ ִֶָ་༘ ࿐ 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 smut. nsfw content. set in s2. witch!female reader. spells. wet dreams. secret crushes. male masturbation. sammy is very very desperate and down bad. one single use of y/n. small plot-ish. lowercase intended. english is not my first language and idc if there are any mistakes. this is not ai. :)

˖Ი𐑼⋆ 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 i lowkey rly hate this but i just wanted to get it out and also i got the spell from reddit lmfao

the first thing sam registers is the softness of your skin. he's trailing his hands down your body, your warm, welcoming and pliant body. your naked body. he's gripping the skin just hard enough to leave marks and drive those velvety whimpers out of you.

then it's your voice. your lips close to his ear, enough to make him shiver. you're moaning out his name and sam feels like you're luring him in a place that he can never escape from.

then it's the warmth and tightness he feels around his cock. he looks down and it's the most beautiful sight he has ever seen. you're practically split open under him, for him to use as he'd like, to do whatever he'd want to.

your hair is falling perfectly in your face as your eyelashes flutter to look up at him. you look angelic. but you sound even more beautiful. "i'm all yours sammy, you can have me however you want", you say and sam almost falls apart.

he doesn't know how he got in this position, but whatever satisfaction he is feeling is enough to overpower anything and everything.

"you know i love you, right?" sam's voice breaks near your ear and you nod. "i know... i know, baby", you respond with a husky voice, your fingers gripping his hair, "i love you even more."

then sam wakes up.

he wakes up in cold sweat. his eyes flushed. pupils dilated. breathing heavy and shaky.

he looks around frantically. it's dark. very dark. the only light he notices is the moonlight illuminating in the room from the open window.

right. he's in his motel room. with his brother.

with his brother. dean.

shit.

he glances over dean's bed. he's passed out on the mattress, his bedding all messed up between his legs, with his mouth ajar and sam immediately feels a sense of relief for not waking him.

another thing he feels is the sticky, wet substance coating his underwear and his shaft.

his head drops back on the pillow under him, an annoyed and embarrassed sigh leaving his lips. he's rubbing his eyes, but your image is still not leaving his mind.

it's like he can still feel your presence. it's like he can still hear you.

"you can have me however you want".

sam shakes his head, shutting his eyes so hard it almost hurts.

he finally removes the covers off his body, as he sits up on the bed, his feet touching the cold floor. he feels a shiver run down his spine. his head lazily drops down.

sam is embarrassed. ashamed. he feels like a hormonal teenager all over again.

he wants you right there next to him. for you to put your arms around his shoulders. to kiss his neck, his jaw, his lips. he wants to run his fingers through your soft hair, touch your soft face, kiss your soft lips.

his hands fist the bedding.

he wants to feel you. to touch you. he desperately wants to touch you. he wants to dig his fingers in your skin, not the sheets underneath his hands.

he sit up from the bed, quiet enough not to wake his brother.

he wants to have you however he desires. and right now he wants you on his bed, maybe dressed in just your undergarments, or his t-shirt, or nothing at all.

he grabs his clothes from his duffel bag and enters the bathroom.

he wants to show you how he feels. to show you all the desire he has for you. all the longing, all the craving. he also wants you to feel the same way, even for just a tiny bit.

his hand reaches to turn the water on. he undresses himself and throws his dirty clothes on the floor. the water is cold when it hits his skin, opposite of how warm your touch felt. it's like a punishment for him.

he washes the shame away from his skin, but his mind is still getting flooded by you.

the most embarrassing thing for sam is that this isn't the first time something like this happened. sam can't even count how many times he has ended up in the shower after dreaming about you.

it has become a routine for him now. go to sleep. have you in his dreams. wake up. take a shower. try falling asleep again. fail. go on a walk. be sleep deprived the rest of the day.

it's like you're a ghost sam is touching every single night but still can't quite fully reach.

but still, he prefers being exhausted and having you like that, even if it's a dream, than have nothing at all.

3 months ago, sam saw you for the first time at the harvelle's roadhouse. and he felt immediately captivated by you.

dean got busy talking with jo. and you and sam got busy having a drink together. that night was the first time sam lost multiple rounds of pool to someone else.

you were beautiful. magnetic. you had a smart mouth. and a smart brain too.

2 months ago, the brothers joined you on a hunt.

they happened to stop by the roadhouse again. where, of course, sam wasn't dying to see you. after 2 drinks, he asked ellen where you might be. she told them that you were hunting down a ghost just 2 hours away with a small smirk on her face.

he managed to convince dean to check on you, which, of course, wasn't suspicious at all. he was just worried, right?

the second he saw you, he felt captivated again. you were like a breath of fresh air.

and the second you parted ways again, sam felt weird. really weird. he felt miserable. and alone.

1 month ago, the dreams started.

it started pretty innocent at first. you and sam doing casual, everyday things. hunting together, grabbing coffee together, research together. he kissed you in his dreams for the first time and sam woke up with a feeling of longing weighing heavy on his chest.

then one night it took a drastic turn. for better or for worse, sam still hasn't figured out yet.

the last thing he remembered is turning all the lights off and going to bed. exhausted. but what he was feeling in that moment felt so real.

he was walking out of the bathroom when he saw you sitting on his bed. he was dressed in his pajamas and you only had your undergarments on. they were black, lacy, hugging your body just right. your cheeks were flushed and the soft yellow light from the bedside lamp was hitting your face in a way that made you look angelic.

sam stopped dead in his tracks. he couldn't take his eyes off you.

"come closer." you whispered, but it felt like your voice was everywhere. it felt like a siren.

sam's feet moved on its own. he stood right in front of you, staring down to you.

your eyes fluttered to look up at him. you took his hand into yours and moved it on your chest, your gaze never leaving him. his rough, calloused hand covered your breasts and sam shuddered.

you trailed his hand lower. slow and careful. making him feel the soft skin of your stomach, your waist. then you moved it on your thigh, making him dig his fingers in your flesh.

your other hand reached to the back of his neck, slowly moving his face down to yours. your touch was featherlight, but sam was on his knees in front of you in a second.

there was barely an inch of space separating both your lips. but you weren't kissing him. not yet. not on the lips anyway. you mouthed right below his ear, your breath hot and heavy on his skin, it was making his own breathing shaky.

"touch me" you whispered, like poison, your bottom lip grazing his earlobe. if sam was awake, he would most definitely freeze right then and there, but this sam, the bold and eager sam, moved his hand between your legs. his fingers felt the wetness pooling in your panties, the way you started grinding your hips against them, the way your hand gripped his hair tighter.

your body laid back down on the mattress, your head resting on the soft sheets, your lower back arching, making him feel your clothed cunt even more. both his hands moved to the sides of your underwear, slowly pushing them down your legs and discarding them on the floor.

he hooked his arms under your legs, making you rest them around his shoulders. that's when your scent hit him, so close to his face, so magnetic and yours. his tongue immediately moved to your slit, licking up to your clit and, jesus christ, you tasted so divinely sweet.

he mouthed and sucked on you like you were his last meal. oh, and the voices you were making, the soft whimpers, the repeated "my god-, sam", they were music to his ears.

his gaze never left your face, your body, the way your chest moved up and down so perfectly on his bed. your fingers desperately clawed at his hair and sam could swore in that moment that you were his salvation.

that was the first time sam made a mess in his bed by dreaming about you.

that night, he finally admitted to himself that maybe, maybe, he had a crush on you.

next time it happened, you were on your knees for him.

his hands were gently removing the stray hairs from your face and wiping the tears away from your face, as you gagged on his length, drool dripping down your lips. you kissed the tip of his dick and that alone was enough to make sam cum all over your face and tongue.

next time, sam was fucking you in the cramped backseat of the impala. then in the abandoned house, where you both were hunting down that ghost. then back in his motel room, but this time it was soft and so loving. the latter did the most damage to him. he barely talked for 2 days.

tonight, in the shower, sam finally admitted to himself that he definitely is in love with you.

the water is still cold when it hits his skin, he doesn't even bother to reach for the handle to make it warmer. all he can think about is you and the pain of not having you.

if sam didn't know any better, he would think that you were doing something to him. but he actually doesn't know any better.

what sam doesn't know is that these dreams didn't appear out of nowhere, or just because he was thinking of you every time he went to sleep. or, to be fair, every minute.

no. sam is clueless.

he doesn't know that you're not so cold-hearted to him as he thinks.

he doesn't know that hunting's not your full time job either. not really.

he doesn't know that a month ago you dug deep into your grimoire, deep into the spells and the ancient latin.

all you needed was a piece of his beautiful hair, a red skull-shaped candle and a full moon. you put some herbs in a bowl, light the candle and drew your blood over his eyes on his picture and sam was completely gone.

that's when his dreams started.

you redid the spell every full moon.

he thinks it's only because he's obsessed with you. he really has no idea. he's completely unaware that everything is going according to your plan.

he scolds himself as he dries his body. he thinks he's a disgrace as he puts a new pair of boxers on and goes back to bed.

and he thinks he's miserable when he's not able to go back to sleep. couple hours later, the sun starts slowly shining on his face from the window. he spent the whole night thinking about you again.

he thinks you have no idea.

the next day goes by relatively easily.

they found who the vengeful spirit might've been, found his grave and burned his bones.

both of them were supposed to go back to a bar close to their motel (because dean just wanted a beer, not to talk to that blonde waitress who gave him her number), but sam was so tired.

dean just ended up dropping him off to their room and drove straight to the bar.

sam opened the door thinking of you. he took a shower thinking how pretty you would look with water droplets on your face. he dressed himself thinking how good his shirt would look on you.

he turned the lights off and got in bed thinking how soft you would look next to him, under the covers. jesus christ, he was going crazy.

sam closed his eyes, trying not to go insane by imagining you in the same bed as him. and as he slowly felt the exhaustion take over him, his hand instinctively reached out to where you were supposed to lay.

he opened his eyes again, but this time, he saw you.

you were already looking at him, a small smile on your face, your hair messed up in the most perfect way. you were wearing his shirt, he felt the familiar cotton feeling from where his hand laid on your waist. the sheets were barely covering your bare legs. the moonlight was illuminating on your face in a way that made you look like a work of art.

sam felt like the heaviness on his chest disappeared the moment he saw you. somewhere deep down in his heart, sam knew this wasn't real, but lately he's only every felt good and normal in his dreams, with you.

"missed you", sam whispered, barely audible. you reached your hand to his face, thumb caressing his cheek.

"are you feeling okay?"

"only when you're here." he admitted, his hand tightening on your waist.

you raised your upper body, resting on your left arm. "want me to make you feel better?" you whispered, bringing your face closer to his and sam nodded immediately.

you kissed him so softly, your lips so sweet against his. you put your hand on his abs under his shirt and sam could feel his cock twitching in his boxers.

your lips moved down to his neck, kissing up to his earlobe, as your hand trailed down to his clothed shaft, touching him. sam groaned near your ear, his hand shaky as it gripped your shirt.

you put your hand in his boxers, pulling his hardening dick out and moving your palm up and down around him.

"i love you so much", sam confessed, "i don't like not having you close to me."

"then have me however you want sam."

then he woke up. again.

a wave of disappointment and frustration washed over him. he checked the clock on the bedside table. it has only been 40 minutes since he went to bed.

he moved his hips against the mattress and that's when he noticed. he awoke earlier than usual. his dick was still hard and aching.

he groaned immediately, his breathing heavy. he could barely open his eyes, let alone properly take care of his situation.

but he couldn't help it. his hand covered his shaft instinctively.

he rubbed his clothed dick first, exactly like you did in his dream a minute ago, then he pulled his rock-hard dick out, precome dripping down his length . his hand started moving up and down in a fast pace. he was desperate for relief.

but that alone didn't satisfy him. not really. so sam closed his eyes and imagined it was your warm mouth that wrapped around his dick instead of his own hand. he imagined his hand holding your hair up for you, maybe pushing your head down to gag on him if he was feeling a bit selfish.

he imagines all the things he would do to you after that. "then have me however you want sam", your voice still lingers in his head and he almost combusts.

sam wonders if you have ever thought about him like he does, if you have dreamed about him. or if you have touched yourself thinking about him. god you would look so beautiful, your fingers working on your clit, your back arched, mouth slack. you would probably be loud. if not, he would drive out every single moan and whimper out of you.

he thinks how beautiful his name would sound if you screamed it out.

he felt his thigh muscles tighten immediately, as he stroked himself one last time. whispered curses and your name fell from his lips repeatedly as he came all over his boxers.

sam feels relief everywhere in his body as his head drops back down on the pillows, chest moving up and down franticly.

but then again he feels shame, he feels guilty, because of course he does. it's sam winchester.

if only he knew.

he goes in the shower again, washing away all the sweat and humiliation.

as he exits the bathroom, he hears the door click open.

dean comes in the dark room, his cheeks rosy, evidently satisfied and a little tipsy.

"i thought you were exhausted" he speaks and sam almost drowns in his shame.

"couldn't sleep" he barely gets the words out, but it was enough for drunk dean to not suspect anything.

"pack your stuff, we're going to nebraska" dean reaches for his own bag and clothes.

"what's in nebraska?"

"ellen called. said they got a lead on yellow-eyes."

sam let out an exaggerated sigh as he sat on the corner of his bed. "can't this wait till morning?"

"nope. get your ass up sammy, you can sleep in the car."

it's not that sam didn't want to go. or wasn't interested. he just didn't give a fuck about anything right now other than you.

"oh and guess who found the lead" dean turns to look at his brother. his tired, irritated, annoyed brother, whose head just dropped down dramatically.

"who" sam replies, his voice muffled and barely audible.

"y/n. she's at the roadhouse already", dean speaks.

sam's face immediately shots up. you? you were there at the roadhouse?

he was gonna see you? in a couple of hours?

"i'm telling you man, she's one hell of a smart girl." dean exits the room, leaving the door open, walking to the impala parked right outside.

sam feels like someone threw a bucket of ice over his head.

"don't take all night now, grab your stuff." dean yells out. but sam can't really hear him. he isn't really listening anymore.

sam was going to see you.

but how the hell was he supposed to look at you in the eyes? after all of... this.

"shit" sam breathes out.

he was fucked.

hated this but ykw.. at least its not ai. i CANT promise pt2 but... we will see...

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭. @mostlymarvelgirl @charliesangel67 @videwly @everythingisaspectrum @that-stanford-girlie @wvyik @sequoia-roots @samsswife @multiversefanfics @rxi-pop @southernimpala @filthgf @a-gay-alien @odessabram @firstlyferrari @stonersampilled @iigummysharkii @lunaleah @girlblogger-04 @brainspurvhs @abigolemess @cup1dssorrow @thesundontshineontheseeyebrows @heapingfern @lavend3rdust @sunnyteume @spac3cowgir1 @bambisbabydollhouse @marlsvii @castielscaplan @sullengirlinterrupted @madelynneb @unabashedlyinlovewithyou @cvntyvampi

[rotinthebrain]

hi im so sorry for my recent inactivity on tumblr! been very unmotivated to do anything, but i will try mt best to be active on here more! pupchesterssss

[doveysalt]

Pervert!Sam rushing to jerk off in the motel bathroom after accidentally walking in on reader changing and getting a really generous glance hnnnhgggrgrgrhh

i see your vision and i’m going to double it and pass it forward: you have to get changed quickly in the back of the impala (a costume change after some investigating?) and he gets a good look in the rearview and has to hide his boner until they make it back to the motel where he can jerk off in peace. hello. hello is this thing on 🎤 

1.1k words | 18+ content under the cut:

The car shakes when you launch yourself into the backseat, slamming the door behind you. Dean shoots you a look in the rearview mirror. 

“Hey, easy on Baby. No slammin’ the doors.”

“Shut up and drive, Dean,” you mutter, grabbing your bag and hurriedly sifting through it. “The cops are coming!”

The guys are trying to lay low after another brush with the law, which leaves you to do most of the in-person interviews. Your role for today: a county police officer. Conveniently, the cops began to pull up right as you were leaving the victim’s house, meaning a quick change for you in the backseat.

Sam sits beside Dean up front, glancing out the window. He can see two officers stepping out of their vehicle now, heading up to the house you were just at. He grimaces. 

“Close call,” he says, looking in the right side-view mirror. Sam swallows thickly when he sees you lifting your hips up, sliding down the khaki pants of the uniform. 

“Yeah, too close. Should’ve just let me go alone,” you gripe from the back, kicking the pants off. 

Dean is about to look at you in the rearview — an instinctive gesture when he talks to you — but you kick the back of his seat to reprimand him.

“Ah-ah. Eyes up front, pervert,” you chide.

Dean sputters from the driver’s seat, quick to defend himself. Sam chuckles beside him, hiding his smile behind his hand. Of course you’d get on Dean’s ass about taking a peek; you would never suspect that Sam is the one currently trying to steal a glimpse at you in your underwear while you slide your jeans on, pulling up the zipper. 

Sam watches with baited breath as you unbutton your shirt, sliding it off. He ogles the exposed skin, shifting in his seat. Your bare shoulders, your chest, your stomach — he memorizes the sight, licking his lips. He so badly wants to reach behind him and touch you — no, not even that. He just wants to sit back and watch you strip for him. He likes your concentrated face when you work at the buttons, how your brows pinch together and your pretty mouth is set in a line. You pull a fresh shirt over your head, and Sam feels his pants grow tight just watching your muscles shift when your arms lift.

That’s going to be a problem. 

He abruptly averts his eyes, and you finish dressing while Sam shifts in his seat, adjusting himself in his pants. You shove the uniform back into your bag and sit forward, patting the back of Sam’s seat. 

“You’re awfully quiet,” you point out, and Sam feels his dick perking up again at the sound of your voice so close to his ear. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” he manages, his voice a little rough. “What did the victim say?”

Sam diverts attention back to the case, and you don’t question his behavior further. He conveniently covers his crotch for the whole drive back to the motel room, willing the blood to stop rushing down. 

It’s a fruitless effort. Once you all make it back to the motel, you and Dean get to work on sorting out the case. Sam adjusts himself again, jaw tight as he tries to avoid your gaze. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says, heading to the bathroom before either of you can say a word.

Sam locks the restroom door behind him, quickly shoving his pants down to his thighs. His stubborn cock is still hard, his mind wandering to you without reprieve. He spits in his hand, leaning against the wall and closing his hand around his cock. He can hear your voice outside, discussing the case and arguing with Dean on the details. 

But Sam’s mind isn’t here: he’s still in the Impala, with you in the backseat beside him. You’re reaching for your belt buckle, the metal clinking as you unbuckle the leather from your waist. He’s fisting his cock as you push the pants down, exposing your thighs, your knees, your calves and ankles. He can see himself touching every inch of you, stroking a hand down your legs while you shiver.

Pre-cum and spit is smeared down Sam’s shaft, and his thumb circles the head of his cock as his imaginary gaze slides further up. You’re not in a hurry this time when you unbutton your shirt. You lean back with your legs spread, meticulously undoing each button. Sam shudders, pumping his hand faster with every button that loosens. You let your shirt hang open, and his gazes over your bare chest and stomach. 

The shirt finally slips past your shoulders. Sam tightens his hold on himself, a shuddering sigh brushing past his lips when he imagines you leaning back with your head against the rear window. You look him in the eyes as one hand slips between your legs, past your underwear. Sam envisions you touching yourself, bucking against your own hand, slick sounds filling the car. He’s pumping his hand faster, now, squeezing his fingers around his rock hard cock. He squeezes his eyes shut, panting softly as he goes faster, faster, legs trembling as he thuds his head against the bathroom wall.

You’re still touching yourself, your eyes closed and head leaning back. You part your pretty lips, grinding into your hand, slick with want. 

Cum for me, Sam wants to say. Cum on your fingers for me. 

Your free hand grips the front seat, keeping you upright as your head thuds against the window. He can’t imagine what your moans might sound like, but he has heard you breathing heavily after flights of stairs or running on a job, so Sam conveniently applies those mental audio tracks to his current fantasy. Your chest heaves as you roll your hips into your hand, wet slaps ringing out in the car.

C’mon, cum for me, he thinks again, so close it hurts.

And you do. You sink against the back door, gasping and gushing on your fingers. Sam slaps his free hand over his mouth, muffling himself before he can groan. His cock twitches in his hand and he spurts his seed in a messy spray; it covers the wall, the tiled floor, his hand. Sam slows his hand, but he doesn’t stop jerking himself off until every drop has spilled.

He relaxes, forehead pressed against the cold wall. Sam sighs to himself, removing the hand from his mouth to press flat against the wall, holding himself upright. 

Knuckles knock against the door. “You good in there, Sammy?” Dean asks. 

Sam nearly groans, annoyed and flustered. He shakes his head, picking it up.

“M’fine, just— my stomach hurts really bad.”

Dean snorts on the other side of the door, clearly amused. “Shit, those gas station burritos messed you up, huh? Should’ve bought you some Pepto.”

His brother walks away, cackling to himself and undoubtedly spreading the news of Sam’s feigned stomach issues to you. Gross. But as long as you don’t know what he was really up to, he can withstand the humiliation. 

…Right after he cleans up the mess he made.

[pittsick]

ִ ࣪ ⋆ 𝐒𝐀𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 headcanons.

( +18 ) mdni / fluff, smut, light angst. afab!college!reader & college professor!sam.

reblog is a creator's best-friend, thank you!!

Professor Sam always notices when you arrive a few minutes early. At first you sit in the third row, then the second, and eventually the front in the short notice of weeks. He pretends he doesn't notice the pattern, but he starts looking for you the moment he walks into the lecture hall.

He keeps office hours ridiculously late because he knows students have jobs and busy schedules. Somehow, your questions always end up turning into hour-long conversations about history, books, and life when you stay in his office even when you should be home.

Sam starts recommending books that might interest you. Every recommendation has little sticky notes tucked inside with comments like, “Read chapter six, you'll like this argument.”

Professor Sam is painfully aware of professional boundaries but he just can't stop myself from getting you coffee early in the morning, driving you back home after a long day or smile at you when you disagree about his class. He looks out for you, lets his eyes follow you, thinking about you more than he should.

Sam hates himself the moment he realizes his feelings have become something more: one innocent smile from you after class lingers in his mind far longer than it should, and he spends the entire drive home trying to force himself to think about anything else. He starts avoiding being alone with you, keeps office-hour conversations painfully short, and refuses to meet your eyes for too long because every stolen glance feels like another failure of the standards he's spent his whole career trying to uphold.

He spends the semester convincing himself you're just another student… until it's not working anymore and he suddenly doesn't know what excuse he has to avoid you; you're always in his office, trying to talk about books and mythology and he think you might feel the same as he does.

Sam kisses you like he's been holding himself back for months—which, in truth, he has. The first kiss is slow, hesitant, almost questioning, until you smile against his lips and all that restraint melts into something impossibly tender; the professionalism is gone out of the window.

He becomes quietly affectionate in private: his hand settles naturally on your waist when you pass beside him in hallways, he'll brush a kiss against your forehead while you're visiting his office, and if you sit on his desk, he'll step between your knees without thinking, smiling every time you loop your arms around his neck.

He absolutely melts when you steal one of his sweaters: seeing the sleeves hanging over your hands does something to him he can't quite explain, and he has to look away for a second just to gather himself.

But Professor Sam isn't just a gentleman, no. He tells you to be quiet when you cockwarm him while he grades paper, slapping your cunt when you make too many noises and press kisses to your neck to reward you when you clench around his shaft.

He loves fucking you on his desk or in his class room when everyone is gone; he can make you come as much as he wants. Seeing you drool on the wooden desk makes him so fucking hard, and he often thinks about it as he teach History.

Sam makes you call him Sir and Professor while he has you folded on his desk, looking at the way his cock disappears inside your sloppy hole. “You like it, uh? You like having your professor's cock inside you, baby?” He'd tell you, caressing your face gently, on contrary of his crude words.

Having you suck his cock while he's in the middle of a zoom meeting, needing to keep his moans to himself or he will automaticy get fired and probably sued. The thrill makes him come so fast and so much in your mouth, filling it up with his thick semen. You want him to be proud, so you swallow it all. Sam pats your head under the desk, throwing a quick but soft smile at you.

Sex with Professor Sam is good, but it's more than just that. He's more than just an older, experienced man to you. You love him and you know he loves you too, no matter how secret your relationship is. Sam often feels guilty about it, some small part of him always worries people will assume he took advantage of his position but you know the truth.

taglist ﹏ @userhotd @stargral @nekkiotine @ravensreadingrecs @prismozo @kathh01 @dumbbandpoetic @hisfavoriteweepingangel @bluestrd @coochiemama3000 @eepwtf @domingodeaan @jiminie-08 @stqrfirez @pervyangelz @cxlt-lamb1 @dolcefloral @heldbycas @amourflores @avasarchve @chronic-fangirl-222 @filthgf @nerdypinupcrystal @blessorte @rottndeer @flwer555 @qardasngan @aerangi @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @agustd202204 @deansbeer @deansdeer @rafs127 @dreamersentity @cup1dssorrow @bitemysin @cloudsincalifornia @s4yuriii @lover-of-books-and-tea @puppyinlace @m-angelou @doll2kiss @nr1-apple-lover @esmeraldalopez0 @m4rk-ofcain @legalmente-loca-blog @kill3ill @beausling @starr-jazz ( to be added )

[filthgf]

⠀ ⠀ minors 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 enter⠀𓂅⁩ ۫ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ִ ⊹ backseat ; 𝓢𝐚𝐦 𝓦𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫⠀࿐ ׂ  ⠀ ©⠀𝒇𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗁𝗀𝖿⠀᭝⠀2026.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀wc,⠀275%.

dean had gone inside the gas station, surely scoping out the whole place in desperate search of the pie section in the mini bakery. which left you and sam to pass the time amongst yourselves.

it hadn’t even been a full two minutes until sam cramped himself in the backseat of the impala, practically pouncing on you against the leather seats, which quickly began to grow sticky from the shared sweat. the windows fogged, and baby’s metal frame rocked above the parking lot’s pavement. sam was balls deep inside you, rocking and grinding his hips to sheath his fat cock through your meaty walls.

“g.. god—mm, fuck, sam—” your fingers threaded through the brunette strands on his head, clutching in time with the strong clench your pussy gave him, pulling him into you in both ways. sam moaned against your lips before sealing them with his own, a low grumble vibrating from his adam’s apple as you continued to pull him down by his hair.

the mutual gush between your bodies rang in your ears and coated the seats of dean’s precious car. sam ducked his head until it was snugly tucked into the crook between your neck and shoulder, placing hot, slobbery kisses and sucking bruises on the skin of your collarbones.

sam shuddered as he came inside you, feeling his release begin to travel back to your opening and leak over the leather beneath the two of you. your lips clashed together once more as you rode out your highs, breaking with the quick sound of your mixed saliva, right as the bell to the gas station doors rang again, signaling dean’s return.

[ohangeleyes]

✶ notary nsfw content. hello world.... i am back with a small drabble that i wrote in 10 minutes before i upload my long ahh fic

sam winchester is the most respectful, polite and soft spoken man you've ever met. the one you would be proud to introduce to your parents. but behind closed doors? he can be a fucking menace.

your high-pitched whimpers are filling the impala. hands clawing at his arms, his hair, abs, almost everywhere, as sam's on top of you pounding himself into you so deep, you can feel him in your stomach.

your parents think you're on a movie date. i mean, he showed up on your doorstep with flowers and puppy eyes, who would not believe him? who would think that he would have you begging for mercy for an hour straight?

the windows are getting fogged up, your body is probably on it's 10th orgasm, but sam is nowhere close to stopping.

"sam-" you choke on a moan, because sam is choking you himself. his hand is tight around your throat, just enough for your world and senses to narrow to only him and nothing else. and it's working. your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, you're seeing white, you almost can't breathe but it all just feels so good.

he leans down to capture your lips into another messy kiss, filled with tongue, spit and desire. you struggle to kiss him back, because you just can't seem to stop moaning.

"look at me" he says between his own groans and whimpers.

you try. you really try to. but it's all just too much. too much pleasure. your body's almost gone numb.

"fuckin' look at me or i'll stop" he urges now, just with a hint of desperation.

that's when you got desperate. "no- please" you whimpered, fluttering your eyes open.

and god, he has never looked better. sweaty, rosy cheeks, eyes filled with lust and desire. but then a small smirk appeared on his face and before you could register anything, his second hand wraps around your throat too and he starts rocking his hips impossibly fast inside you.

jesus, he really is a menace.

tags @mostlymarvelgirl @charliesangel67 @videwly @everythingisaspectrum @that-stanford-girlie @wvyik @sequoia-roots @samsswife @multiversefanfics  @rxi-pop @southernimpala @filthgf @a-gay-alien @odessabram @firstlyferrari @stonersampilled @iigummysharkii @lunaleah @girlblogger-04 @brainspurvhs @abigolemess @mfstargrll @thesundontshineontheseeyebrows  @heapingfern @lavend3rdust @sunnyteume @spac3cowgir1 @bambisbabydollhouse  @marlsvii @castielscaplan @sullengirlinterrupted @madelynneb

[unicornlover729161]

𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑎 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘 - 𝐷𝑎𝑦 5

── ⋆⋅ 𖤓 Marking/Blood kink 𖤓⋅⋆ ──

Soulless!Sam Winchester x fem!reader

More of this series

masterlist | my AO3 account | more of „supernatural"

Seeing his own handprint on your ass the last time the two of you had sex really had to have done something to Sam cus suddenly that’s what it was all about, marking you. Leaving as many handprints, bite marks or small bruises on your as possible. It was his way of showing the world how much he loved you, or at least that’s what you told yourself.

This time in particular he had you in such a tight headlock that moving away from him was not considered an option by you.

While he thrusts into you harder with each passing second he also starts to bite your shoulder again. The first one isn’t even that hard, just unexpected and that’s why you let out a high pitched yelp. The next one on the other hand was harder, Sam starts by kissing over the red spot on your shoulder as if to kiss the pain away but just he buries his teeth there again.

You let out a pained moan but for some sick n twisted reason the pain gets you even wetter and of course Sam notices. „You just need it a little rough huh baby? Do you need me to make it hurt.“ he says in this almost mocking voice. You’d love to say that you hate it but you really really don’t so instead of trying to get away you nod desperately.

„See it’s not that fucking hard.“ the second after the words leave his mouth he starts nipping at the skin right beneath your jaw, not hard but hard enough for you to worry about how to hide them tomorrow.

The next time you let out another yelp, because he bit directly into your shoulder it earned you a harsh pinch on your right nipple. You let out a sound that you’ve never heard yourself make before but that sick bastard just grins and continues to let his hands roam over your body while still keeping the fast and punishing pace of his hips.

You can already feel all the bruises on your body form but that somehow turns you more on, everyone knowing that your his. But for Sam on the other hand it’s still not enough, he suddenly lets go of you and you fall forward onto the mattress.

The lights in the room are mostly shut off so the only thing you can see is his figure looming over you, then thrusting into you again. The new angle lets him hit that spot inside of you even better and the second he’s fully buried inside of you again it sends a literal shockwave thru you.

Sam leans over you again, at first just looking at you. Like you’re his next meal and tbh to him you kind of were. He buries his teeth right into your collarbone, the pain is sharper this time and it’s making actual tears spill from your eyes. Not tears of pleasure this time tho. He comes up again smiling and that’s when you see the faint trace of blood on his teeth and lips. You go to put your hands over your mouth but instead he pulls them away and pins them over your head.

Then his lips meet yours. The kiss isn’t sweet or soft like you know it from him, instead it’s rough, desperate and bloody. Literally bloody since he’s making you taste your own.

Not 100% my cup of tea but I got asked to do smth like this so here we go Xx

taglist: @needjoekeery @jason-vs-crowbar @iloveneilperry @eidbcgduiajxbsu @rubyrubydoo09 @romydolly @tigol-bitties15 @witchymama1331 @spectralgalaxygauntlet @sweetiebbi

@ifitsminttobethenchocolatechip thought of you lol

[ohangeleyes]

hhmmmmmm vampire sam AU hhmmmmmmmm should i write it hhhmmmmmm

[1nsignia]

18+ mdni, sam winchester

—————————————————————————

out of the winchester brothers, sam is defff the most jealous and even a liiiiitle possessive too

a string of strange killings was happening around a town and to get more info, you had to go and flirt with a cop at a local bar— no harm, no foul, right?

but from afar, sam was watching you. both his grip on his cup and his jaw tightened, hazel eyes pinned on the sight of your polite smile flashing for the cop as you let out a fake laugh from the cop’s corny joke 

sam knew this was just an act, that you loved him. he knew what your real laugh sounded like, how your actual smile was flashed, how you looked him so softly with a look that was only reserved for him

but did the sight of you, sitting and chatting with that cop, stir something in sam? as much as he’d hate to admit it, yes, yes it did 

so the moment dean said he’ll be back after a few hours after all of you returned back to the motel, that gave sam all the time he needed with you

time that was more than enough for him to hook both of your legs around his waist and sink his cock deeper in your pussy, warm and inviting for his length 

tonight was a different version of sam, and you could tell from the way his lips were messy and possessive on yours, knocking the air out of your lungs from how hard he was kissing you— not to mention his thrusts, deep and almost rough, which made you do nothing but moan endlessly on his mouth and claw his toned back from the ruthless pace he was giving 

and his words. god, they were filthy. 

“fuck, always takin’ me so well. like you were made for it”

“arch that back for me, thaaaats my girl”

“mine. god, you’re mine”

especially the last part. he would murmur “mineminemine” endlessly on your lips, each thrust making you roll your eyes at the back of your head as his hands held your hips firm to make sure they didn’t move from the angle he was fucking you in— an angle that made your pussy flutter all over his cock 

sam’s lips finally broke free from yours and trailed down your neck. “hated the way that cop looked at you” he whispered on your skin. you tried to let out a small laugh from his jealousy, but it resulted in a whimper leaving your lips from the tip of his cock hitting a certain spot 

he brought his head up from your hickey covered skin to lay his forehead on top of yours, looking at your blown eyes filled with both desire and jealousy. and god, the way you looked under him— face fully contorted with pleasure, boobs bouncing from his rough and sped up thrusts. all while looking up at him with those wide eyes of yours he’ll stare at for hours. 

too bad the cop wasn’t here to see this

“say my name” sam whispered, his hot breath hitting your swollen lips. “let me hear it from those pretty lips, yeah?” one hand left the side of your hip to cup your face and drag a thumb down your bottom lip

that was more than enough to do what he asked. “sam” you whispered, almost as a plea. “sa— oh god, sam” you gasped, knocking your head back to the pillows 

“don’t hide from me”

his hand on your face brought it back down not just to face him, but to claim your mouth with a kiss once more. “there she is”— a kiss that was open mouthed, more hungrier and greedy than the last as you arched your back and pressed your chest onto his from his hips snapping roughly on yours as you kept murmuring his name in small gasps over and over 

it made sam do nothing but groan in satisfaction as a response from both your voice and your pussy clenching onto him more than it already was, biting your bottom lip and immediately sliding his tongue in once you parted your lips 

“sounds so good coming from you— fuck” he moaned on your lips, his hand on your face tilting it to kiss you deeper than he already was and feeling his orgasm slowly approach him. “gonna have it memorized by the time i’m done with you”

from then, you realized on one thing— that jealousy has never looked this good, especially on sam winchester

————————————————————————— main taglist: @sweetpeasosweet @lcvgty-4929 @fratbrochrisgf @wrldbloom @arabellas-barbarella-swimsuit12 @vianawaits @edawgz @hottubnda @onlyfeng @lucky-clover13 @tragicfiend @nyx-of-night @missmontiopath @bloomfaery @booksrcool @jaydennicole @gglouise23 @sicklyhana @klauvy @pocket-fish0 @romancedawn333 @sashadonat @uxavity @batslilwhore @oh-sheetcake @boo-123456 @ydivine @the-star-rover @slutfordpr @advline @arfemiz @freakkay09 @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @hernersworld @starrydustedwinter @inejskywalker @seeker2028 @ksiazkowaxx-blog @kh4dij7 @vanillakirstein @lillie1320 @scissorhvnds @branchesofmagic @devilslittlehelper @starr-jazz @nightwingblvd @yukimaniac @freddiweasly @devorator666 @dadump @ftkats @starl1ghtgr4yson @st4rstuddedreblogs @em12021 @heleneae

@darkxwolfsstuff @imintoomanyfandoms14 @littlelightbearer @th3d1nOr3ad3r @psychopompsblog @wwolfsca @kaiiii1009 @century-eggg @tvhore @chickenchickenpie @fanofthebatfam @sillygayfreak @tskdeion @potatoheartsyou @faepoetry @theall-seeingone (tags are open)

©1nsignia— please do not steal, repost or reuse my work

[ohangeleyes]

https://www.tumblr.com/ohangeleyes/821022725292376064/httpswwwtumblrcomohangeleyes8197989471828869?source=share

ok so as far as i remember if you go to file -> open there should be a button somewhere there that says "recover unsaved documents" and it opens a folder with a ton of documents that never got saved? or if that isn't there then maybe try doing the %appdata% thing on your computer and going from appdata -> roaming -> microsoft -> word

unless it was like the online version of word in which i think with that you might be fully screwed but don't quote me on that😬

THIS GOT LOST IN MY NOTIFS THANK U FOR THE HELP BUT IT DIDNT WORK :(((( i think ill rewrite if i'm feeling it in the future lol :P

[katcoquette]

god, I love the way you look at me

sam winchester x reader

2 of 6 from the honeybee drabbles

˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ 392 words of fluff, sam is down bad, makes you feel seen

˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ a/n: I'm almost sick over this one, sam is so the person that would notice and reassure you he's still listening when you trail off thinking no one is... see the rest of the honeybee drabbles for more soft moments!!

It’s a beautiful morning.

Birds chirp happily around you, and you can hear the distant chatter of the world waking up and people starting to mull around the park. Sam is picking up two cups from the coffee stand a little ways down the path, starting on the winding pavement back to you and the bench you’d picked out for the view after your jog.

You notice a plaque screwed into the back of the bench from the corner of you eye, twisting to sit sideways so you can run your finger over the inscription, “Where I will forever come to remember your love.”

“One black coffee because there were no other options.” Sam’s voice draws your attention.

You thank him, taking the cup from him as he sits mirrors the way you’re sitting, facing you as he rests one arm on the bench. “Look.” You pout, pointing at the bench dedication.

He leans in to read it, just like you’d done. “That’s sweet. I wonder who it’s for.”

“It looks pretty new.” You comment, taking a sip of your drink. “Oh my god, but that might make it sad. Maybe they just lost them.”

You’re off on a tangent now, suddenly reminded of another topic you’d meant to talk to him about yesterday. Your face is so animated when you talk like this, and he could listen to you go on for hours, never knowing where you’d end up but loving it every time.

Your voice fades out when you realize how intently he’s watching you, an amused smile on his face. “What?” A smile creeps onto your own lips as he leans in, kissing you softly.

“I just love when you do this.” He says simply.

You flush, in part from the kiss, but also from the way he’s looking at you. You’re not sure anyone has ever so visibly cared about what you were saying. But this is always how he looks at you, even when you’re just existing in the space around him. Even when you’re not in the room, but your name comes up, or he thinks of you.

Sam can’t help it.

He’s in love with you, and it’s written all over his face for the world to see.

“Ramble on forever?” You question, teasingly, but he responds with sincerity. “Yes.” His eyes soften. “Keep going.”

masterlist

[court-of-secrets]

all I’m saying is that if I had written supernatural we would’ve had a rubysam sex scene where he’s eating her out and when he lifts his head and you can see blood dripping down his chin

[milleniumpire]

... ☆ ... DOCTOR SAM ... ☆ ...

cycle syncing headcanons cw: mentions of spanking, fingering, p in v, toys ... ☆ ... c. page ... ☆ ...

MENSTRUAL

ie. hormone levels and energy are at their lowest while the uterine lining sheds

... ☆ ... Doctor Sam really gets to shine when you're on your period. He is absolutely fawning over you, ensuring that you get your rest, massages, and enough steak for a small army. He always has a heating pad at the ready, telling you that while your hips are physically widening you have every excuse to feel tired and lazy.

... ☆ ... He buys you period panties because he thinks that always having synthetic materials so close to your skin isn't good for you, and you can't deny that you feel decidedly less pathetic when you don't have to wear a diaper to bed.

... ☆ ... He knows that you're probably not feeling up for it... but the way he fucks you on your period makes you wish it could feel this good all the time. He's handling you like you're made of glass, his palms big and soft and wide every time he touches you. He goes so slow, not wanting to jostle you or put too much pressure anywhere that's uncomfortable. Usually he's making you cum before he's even thought of himself, but he knows that sometimes you're one and done at this time of the month and doesn't want you to miss out on that big stretch and gentle internal pressure that feels so good right now.

FOLLICULAR

ie. estrogen levels start to rise, and the fatigue of menstruation is clearing

... ☆ ... Now that your period is over, sam decides it's about time for you to get back in the gym. He takes pride in acting like your personal trainer, and you just follow him around the gym like a little puppy while he chooses machines and workouts for you that seem totally random, but you're guessing they're not by the way he's writing down what you're doing in a little notebook. You don't mind the gym nearly as much when he's working out with you in a wifebeater.

... ☆ ... Sometimes if your period was especially bad he'll surprise you with a tiny scrap of white or pastel lace, a little reward after you had to sit through hell with ugly panties on as a reward. Even for your cute underwear the 100% cotton or silk rule applies, and he is staunchly against victoria's secret or anything of the sort that uses all synthetic materials

... ☆ ... After a week of shackles (not feeling up to fucking like you normally do) you are back to regularly scheduled programming. If you racked up any punishment or spankings during your period this is when they get doled out. Sam knows that during your period any punishment will just make you weepy and upset, and you won't want to accept any help. He also has a little notebook where he writes down exactly what you're due for. 'Bratted after given a chance to apologize - 8 hits,' 'snuck more caffeine than allowed - 5 hits,' 'acted miserable during our daily walk - 2 hits.'

OVULATORY

ie. hormones and energy peak with the release of the egg

... ☆ ... Even if the oura ring he bought you didn't show your cycle, sam would know when you're ovulating. He'd know from the way you beg him to make you cum on his fingers, from the way you wake up with a wet spot on your panties, and from the way you leave claw marks on his back when he tries to pull out of you. Most of the time he doesn't even bother wearing a shirt around you because it's just going to end up on the floor anyway.

... ☆ ... He tries to keep you as busy as possible, knowing this is when you have the most energy for workouts and getting things done, but it's hard to care for you while you're so easily... distracted. More than once he's had to take you out to the car in the middle of your workout, knowing you can't control the way that you're leaking for him but teasing you anyway. 'Can't handle a couple squats without getting worked up, can you, baby? Seein' your boyfriend all sweaty is just too much for a needy little thing like you? Gonna get you all fixed up and then it's back to work.' When you walk back in the gym together, you clinging to his side with a crushed ponytail, it doesn't take a genius to figure out what the break was for.

... ☆ ... This is when sam likes to get... experimental. He knows that if you're wet through your panties over a kiss on the forehead that you'll do just about anything to be satisfied enough to sleep through the night. If he's feeling thoughtful he'll break out a little vibrator, but if he feels like you're being an insatiable little monster he'll use a thick g-spot wand vibrator alongside his cock. It makes you feel like you're about to split in half but the way he coos and swipes at your tears, telling you 'you're taking your medicine so well' makes it worth it. If he's feeling really mean he'll just make you ride him until you tire yourself out. He won't guide you with his hands or thrust up, he just lays there until you either give up or start grinding into him so hard that he's worried you're going to bruise your cervix.

LUTEAL

ie. the dropping of hormones creates a loss of energy and increases cravings

... ☆ ... As you wind down from ovulation sam helps you into a more normal routine, and he keeps telling you that his sweet little girl is here to visit for a few days. Before he was dealing with a sex addict and he's about to be a slave in the kitchen to satisfy your pms cravings. As much as he might tease you about your mood swings the adoration in his voice and the way that he caters to your every whim takes the bite out of the words. He always grumbles that you're a 'needy little thing' right after a forehead kiss on his way to do whatever it is that you need.

... ☆ ... Right after ovulation you still have a decent amount of energy so he tries to plan a couple activities to make your week of rotting feel a little better. He takes you on some light hikes, go grocery shopping to pick out your snacks and help him decide what to cook, and run any errands so you're not rushing out for anything when you feel like crap.

... ☆ ... Sam is sure to get his fill of pussy before you start your period. He's gentle enough that shark week isn't also celibacy week, but he can't manhandle you the way he wants to. In the days leading up to your period he's always in grey sweats to show you exactly what you have access to, and you feel like his hips are glued to your ass from how obsessed he is with hitting you as deep and hard as possible from behind. This is also when the majority of your maintenance spanks fall. Partially because pms can make you act like a brat, but mostly because he needs to give you a good reminder to behave for the next week even if he rarely bends you over his knee

BONUS: anal during ovulation

... ☆ ... If it's a really bad one, none of the usual tricks getting you to quiet down, he'll take your ass. Sam plugs you up pretty frequently, thinking the little gem nestled inside of you is quite cute, but it rarely goes further than that. But when you're on your third round of the day and showing no signs of stopping he has to do something. It's the only thing he can do to you that makes you stop begging for more, the deep stretch of his cock occupying your entire brain. 'If your cunt's not gonna listen we gotta try something else, sweetpea. Maybe this will make you sore enough to be ready for a nap."

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