Summary: The reader gets pregnant while Sam doesn’t have a soul. When he finds out how it happened, he’s not going to like it.
Characters: Soulless!Sam x Reader; Sam x Reader; Dean and Bobby mentioned
Word Count: 3833
Warnings: Rough sex
A/N: This is a request for @myinconnelly1 . Thank you for your patience Myin ❤️
This was the third time. They were going to figure it out soon. You’d turned down Dean’s offer of a beer twice this week. Now, he was handing you a glass of whiskey to celebrate success on your last hunt, and you shook your head giving the excuse that you had a headache.
Luckily, neither of them had been around when you’d gotten sick. But there was no way you could hide it much longer; you were going to have to tell Sam you were pregnant. He might not even remember the night you’d conceived, and part of you hoped he didn’t.
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Sam had been unusually hungry since getting his soul back. You sat at the table with him in Bobby’s kitchen watching him eat a sandwich. You’d been present when Death returned Sam’s soul to him. You’d watched him struggle against his bonds and beg for it not to happen. It had hurt, not like his behavior over the past several months, but he still looked and sounded like your Sam. All you saw was your scared and desperate Sam.
Once it was done, all Sam’s memories of his time without a soul were gone. As soon as he saw you, he pulled you close to him in an embrace that was too intimate to be called a hug. He didn’t remember it, but he felt and knew he needed you. When Sam was scared, he always reached for you.
You had dreamed of him holding you like this, having him back. You’d been there to witness Sam’s soul being restored; you knew he had it. Still, it was hard to forget when he didn’t. You remembered the things he’d said, the things he’d done.
After Sam disappeared into that hole in the ground in order to stop the Apocalypse, you had cried yourself to sleep every night. The idea of never seeing him again was bad enough, but knowing he was suffering unthinkable torments in hell was unbearable.
Dean had gone to Lisa just like he’d promised Sam he would. You had retreated to Bobby’s with a broken heart and no desire whatsoever to hunt by yourself. You spent your time reading Bobby’s lore books without the first hope of finding a way to get someone out of hell, but continuing to do research helped you feel closer to Sam.
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3 Months Ago
The sound of the Impala’s engine in the yard was unmistakable. What would bring Dean to South Dakota now? You hadn’t seen him since he’d moved in with Lisa and given up hunting; you’d barely even talked to him. You heard the front door open and footsteps moving closer to the kitchen where you were sitting with a cup of coffee and a book on Eastern European spell craft.
If you’d been paying closer attention, if you hadn’t lost your hunter’s edge, if you hadn’t been battling a depression so deep it left you struggling to care about anything since you lost Sam, you would have noticed it was two sets of footsteps getting closer to the kitchen.
Dean’s voice broke into your world of escape within the book where you didn’t have to think about the things going on around you. “Hey, Sweetheart. You have some more of that coffee?”
You looked up and had already started to nod toward the pot when you saw Sam standing there with his brother. Tears filled your eyes, and your heart began to race. What had Dean done to get him back? There were absolutely no words that could express what you were feeling. You stood slowly, mouth falling open, and went to him.
For a minute you just looked at him taking your time with each feature of his face. His eyes, at this moment, were light gray. The last time you’d seen him they’d been an amber kissed green. His dimples weren’t showing now, but you remembered how you’d loved to kiss them. You remembered how soft his lips were and how his kisses made you feel.
It was like looking at a vision, a ghost, a dream come to life. You tentatively let your fingertips brush his chest, afraid your fingers might pass right through him, and you’d find out he wasn’t there after all. You touched the soft cotton of his shirt and underneath you felt his chest, solid and real.
Sam glanced down at your hand on his chest and flashed you a smile complete with those dimples that could fill his face with sunshine, but the look in his eyes didn’t hold that kind of lightness. They were far more serious with the kind of look Sam usually reserved for the bedroom. He leaned down and whispered in your ear, “Why don’t we find somewhere to be alone tonight?”
That is how you found yourself at the Red Lily Motel with Sam and a bag of take out burgers. You weren’t much interested in the food past a quick thought about how Sam had rarely eaten burgers before. Your eyes were fixed on him, the way the veins in his forearms were so prominent and the broadness of his shoulders that would look even wider as he shed the layers of clothes he wore. Everything about him said strength.
You were drawn to him, needing to touch him, hold him. Sam’s gaze was riveted on you, and he had long since tossed the bag of burgers on the table. He advanced toward you, and you closed the remaining distance welcoming the warmth of his body and his hands at your waist. Your eyes locked on his, and you pushed the plaid from his shoulders, hands roaming over his chest covered now by only his t shirt.
Sam’s mouth covered yours, his lips and tongue claiming you again. While he kissed you, your hands ventured underneath the front of his shirt to touch his bare stomach. He moved his kisses to your neck. You could feel his smile as he talked against your neck. “Anxious, aren’t you?” He started to nibble. “I love it.”
You started to raise the hem of his t shirt, and he helped you take it off. You felt your breath catch in your throat. He was gorgeous, golden skin, every muscle in his shoulders and chest clearly defined. Then he lifted off your shirt and kissed you again while he guided you back toward the bed. When the back of your legs hit the mattress, you sat down and lay back, pulling Sam down on top of you.
His lips locked around one of your nipples through the lace of your bra. His tongue laved at it until the fabric covering it was wet. Your moans and gasps urged him on, and he tore at the cloth covering your breasts freeing them. Now that they were exposed, Sam lavished more attention on them. He sucked and licked one nipple while his fingers rolled and pulled the other until you were writhing under him, your body asking for more.
Sam stood up, kicked off his shoes, then stripped out of his jeans and underwear. He lowered his body back over yours. You never felt as small as when you were beneath Sam. When he started to bite down the column of your neck with pressure harder than a nibble but not quite hard enough to hurt, it sent shivers of anticipation across your shoulders and down your spine. Sam continued his trail of kisses and bites over your chest until he reached your nipple, took it between his teeth, and pulled.
You moaned loudly, and Sam kept going changing his bites to licks, flicking his tongue over your stomach, and making his way lower. You were nearly shaking with need for him. It had been so long, and Sam had always raved about how much he loved having the taste of you on his lips. You could practically feel his tongue sliding up through your folds until his mouth found your clit and closed around it.
Sam unfastened your jeans and pulled them quickly down your legs. You arched your back waiting for the feel of his kiss between your legs. Instead, you felt the blunt end of his cock pushing against your entrance. Your heart was ready; you wanted him.
Your body wasn’t as ready. You were wet for him, but you knew you weren’t wet enough. It had been a long time, and Sam was big. Before you could say anything, he pushed himself inside you. It burned as he stretched and filled you. Almost immediately, he started to thrust.
You dug your fingers into his shoulder and said his name. “Sam.” You winced and dug your fingers deeper into his skin. “Sam.” He didn’t seem to hear you, and you let it go. You were so happy and relieved to have him back and unable to imagine what he’d gone through in hell. If this was what he needed, you’d give it to him.
In spite of the pain, you came right after Sam did. The sounds he made when he orgasmed sent you right over the edge, the little grunts and the groans. And you knew what his face looked like even if you couldn’t see it. He’d squeeze his eyes closed. Then when he opened them, they would roll back slightly in his head. His tongue would slide out over his bottom lip before he bit it, and his chest would rise and fall faster with the increased pace of his breathing.
Sam collapsed on top of you briefly before he pulled out and rolled onto his back. You heard his arm hit the pillow over his head, and you turned toward him to snuggle into his side. Sam was a cuddler, especially after sex. This time, however, he sat up and was standing by the bed before you could process what was happening. You sat up too and reached for the sheet to cover yourself. “Sam, what are you doing?”
He brushed his hair back from his face. “I’m going to get a shower. I feel like going out. We passed a bar a couple miles back.” You watched his naked back disappear around the corner as he made his way to the bathroom.
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Sam was gone all night. You took your own shower, washing the smell of him from your skin, but you couldn’t wash the smell of him from the sheets. It was impossible to sleep, the loneliness and shock of what he’d done lay too heavily on you. You stared at the ceiling, tossed and turned, finally giving in and staring at Sam’s empty pillow. You reached out to touch it imagining how you thought this night would go.
You had dreamed of a reunion with Sam so many times when you thought you’d never see him again. You’d clutched a pillow then, hugging it tightly, when a pillow was all you had. The memory of Sam’s voice had filled your head, the sweet things he would whisper to you and the sexy things he told you he wanted to do.
All those days and nights without him, you had tried to remember his voice, tried to remember the feel of his arms around you, and the way you had always felt safe when he held you. Now, you felt empty. You were too shocked to even cry really. Tears leaked from your eyes, but the sobs stayed locked inside you. It was horrible to lose him, but to have him back and he was still lost to you?
The sound of Sam’s key in the lock caused you to wipe away the tears that were oozing from the corners of your eyes. You rolled over, clicked on the bedside lamp, looked at him and waited for some kind of explanation. He walked into the room without saying anything. Finally, you couldn’t take the silence anymore. “Sam, where have you been?”
Sam took off his jacket and tossed it on one of the chairs by the table. He came over to the bed, put his knee down on it, and leaned in for a kiss. “Did you miss me?”
You pushed against his chest. “Sam, what...? You can’t just come back in here and act like nothing happened!” He gave you his best seductive, flirty look. “Really, Sam?” That’s when you saw it. “Is that lipstick on your neck?”
Sam ribbed his fingers across the offending lip print then looked at them. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulder. “Huh.”
The words caught in your throat. When you finally found your voice, it was full of hurt anger. “Is that all you can say?”
Sam tried a sexy smile with you that wasn’t about to work. “The bartender liked me.”
Your stomach dropped. Your heart clutched tight. You weren’t even sure what you were feeling. The tears you’d tried to dismiss filled your eyes again. “Sam, you need to go.” He reached for you. You caught his hand and pushed it away. “Please. Just go. What happened to you, Sam? I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
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It wasn’t long before you found out the problem with Sam was he didn’t have a soul. You’d stayed up long nights with Dean trying to figure out how to get it back. Dean’s solution was drastic, but you both wanted Sam back desperately.
Sam, the real one, was back now and sitting across the table smiling at you. You had the house to yourselves. Bobby and Dean were on a hunt giving you some time alone with Sam, time you needed to tell him about the baby.
When Sam finished his food, you bit your bottom lip nervously. Stalling, you asked, “Do you want anything else?”
Sam nodded, smiled just enough to let his dimples show, then looked at you with deep gray eyes. “I want you to come closer. I miss touching you, kissing you.” You missed that too, but memories of the last time you were with Sam still made your heart hurt like it had just happened.
The two of you hadn’t shared a bed or any kind of intimacy since Sam had gotten his soul back. Dean had helped you carefully and gently explain that over a year had passed. You told Sam that you needed some time, and he understood. However, that didn’t stop him from wanting to be close to you again. You wanted that too.
You stood and walked around the table. Sam turned to face you. He reached for your hand and held it. “I miss you, Y/N.”
“I miss you too, Sam.” You gave his hand a slight squeeze and sat down on his lap. His hair was almost impossible not to touch when you were this close. You gave into the urge and slid your fingers through it. Sam closed his eyes. For a few seconds you just combed your fingers through his hair and watched as a smile appeared on Sam’s face.
It wasn’t a moment you wanted to end, but the time was here that you had to tell Sam you were carrying his baby. You let your fingers slide from his hair, and when you spoke it was soft. “Sam, can we go into the living room?”
“Sure.” He put his hand on your waist as you stood up, and the smile never left his face. He had no idea what was coming.
Bobby’s red sofa was soft and well worn from years of use. You were sitting against the arm like a support to somehow hold you up and give you strength to get through these next few minutes. Sam wasn’t close enough for his body to touch yours, but you were glad he wasn’t all the way at the other end of the couch either.
You took a deep breath and looked at the man you still loved. “Sam, there’s something I need to tell you.” His eyes squinted slightly. He knew from your tone it was serious. “I...I’m pregnant.”
Sam tilted his head, processing what you had just said. Then a look of complete wonder filled his eyes. “We...when?”
You stared down at your hands folded in your lap. “As...as soon as I found out you were alive. That night. I’m about three months along.”
His smile then went straight to your heart, warming it, shattering it, and putting it back together just to stab it with more pain. “You...I can’t even tell.” He was beautiful, and it was all too much.
Memories of the night you’d made this baby with him came flooding back. You remembered the way it had felt, how the love and tenderness you’d expected wasn’t there. It was there now. Sam had the softest expression on his face you’d ever seen.
You could feel the panic bubbling up in your chest along with all the confusion. “Sam, kiss me. I need to know it’s you. I need you.”
The glow left his face. “Me?”
He moved across the couch until his thigh was against yours. He held the side of your face in his palm and touch your lips gently with his. The kiss deepened and just as you were about to let go completely and cross that line where the rest of the world disappeared, Sam broke the kiss and pulled away.
He rubbed his hand down his thigh. When he looked at you, his eyes were wide with realization. “Y/N, I’m sorry.” He hung his head and ran his hand through his hair. “You...wanted me to stop, and I didn’t. I...I for-“
You shook your head. “Sam, you didn’t. You didn’t force me to do anything. I wanted you to slow down, not stop. I never told you to stop. “
This time both of his hands went through his hair, and he hung his head even lower before he raised it with the shine of tears in his eyes. “I didn’t listen. I was rough with you.” You saw him swallow. “And then I left.”
There was a heavy silence for several seconds. Summoning all your courage, you asked him what you needed to know. “Sam, did you sleep with that bartender?” You tried to steady your breathing waiting for his answer. You closed your eyes.
Sam’s was strained and quiet. “No. Y/N, I didn’t.” Slowly, you opened your eyes. The expression on Sam’s face reflected the hurt you felt inside. “I didn’t do that.”
You could barely get the words out. “The lipstick?”
Sam looked straight into your eyes. “She was hanging all over me, kissing me, coming on to me, and I let her. But nothing happened beyond that.”
You gave a tiny nod. That made it a little better somehow, knowing he hadn’t left you alone in bed and gone directly to the bed of another woman on the night you conceived your child. You knew you could forgive him that because he hadn’t had a soul.
“Y/N, I need to know something too.” Sam’s voice was almost shaking now. “Did I hurt you?” You couldn’t lie to him, but your mouth couldn’t form the word “yes” either. You didn’t have to say anything; your silence said it. Sam scrubbed his hand down his face knowing the truth.
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The next several days were filled with tears and revelations. More of Sam’s memory returned. He told you the things he’d done, clearly filled with shame about it and waiting for you to say you wanted nothing more to do with him. There had been women, a lot of them. He’d worked cases without feeling and hurt people in the process.
It was all hard to hear and even harder for him to say. The greatest pain was knowing that all that time your Sam was still in hell being tortured. That meant it wasn’t really Sam you’d been with when you got pregnant. The baby was his; it carried his DNA, but the Sam you loved had not been there when you conceived.
He already loved the baby. You caught him staring at your stomach with his eyes gone soft and a quiet little smile on his face. Sam had noticed that raspberries were your new favorite food thanks to the cravings, and he’d been to the store more than once to keep the kitchen stocked with them.
Everything he did now told you that your thoughtful and sensitive Sam was back, and you were ready to have him back in every way. He was pulling pints of raspberries out of a bag when you put your hand over his and said, “Let’s go to bed.”
Sam stopped what he was doing and scooped you up into his arms. Afternoon sunlight was streaming through the windows as he carried you up the stairs to the bedroom. He placed you gently down on the bed and traced a line down the side of your face before he kissed you.
He undressed you slowly, taking his time, and kissing every part of you he exposed. Then Sam took off his own clothes and carefully lowered himself over you. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
You rested your hand on his cheek. “Yes. Please. Give me you. I need you.”
Sam made you come twice before he entered you. The first time was with his fingers while he looked into your eyes and kept telling you he loved you. The second time was with his tongue. You were shaking and begging to have him inside you by the time he was done. You were dripping you were so ready for him.
When he entered you, Sam laced his fingers with yours. He held your hand the entire time he moved deep within you. He asked you again if you were okay, and when you hesitated with your answer because you were completely lost in him he started to pull out. “Sam, I’m fine. It’s okay.” You held onto him tighter with your arm that was free. “I love you, Sam.”
After, you lay in his arms. You nuzzled against his neck and buried your nose in the softness of his hair. “Can you forgive me, Y/N?” You moved your head laying it on his chest where you could hear Sam’s heartbeat. You lay there quietly for a few seconds before placing a kiss over his heart. Then you raised you head to look at him.
“It wasn’t you that did those things, Sam. But if you need to hear it, I forgive you.” You shifted position then took his hand and placed it over your stomach where the baby was growing inside you. “We’re going to have a baby.”
“I don’t deserve you, Y/N.”
You brought his hand that you’d placed over your abdomen to your lips and kissed it. “Sam, you sacrificed yourself for the world. No one deserves love more than you. I have you back now, and I’m going to give it to you.”
Summary: Getting used to Lucifer in his head is one thing, but when he starts hallucinating Gabriel, Sam thinks it might just break him. Especially when Gabriel just won't stop insisting he's real.
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This was heartbreaking and amazing all at once. I felt for Sam so much, first for being unable to sleep because of Hallucifer and then his panic because he thought Gabriel was also a hallucination. Really glad that Gabriel’s presence was able to help Sam in more ways than one. Love this! - Gisselle
I totally agree with Gisselle; this story completely broke my heart but it’s also really sweet and nice to read. I’m a a huge fan of Gabriel coming back during Sam’s hallucinations and snapping him out of it. If you like hurt/comfort, then this is the fic for you. -Tyler
I very much agree with Tyler and Gisselle. This story is oh so heartbreaking, but still awesome. I wish that this would have been how they brought Gabriel back in canon, but no such luck. SPN Writers take note, our Sammy needs some love and reassurance this season, Get Gabriel back STAT!- Lauren
