Make You Close Your Eyes
SPN FanFic
~Sam can sometimes be a mean tease, but it’s always worth it in the end.~
Sam x Reader, smidgen of Dean
2,438 Words
Warnings: Smuttiness of the Sam variety
A/N: This is my entry for @wheresthekillswitch and @emilywritesaboutdean Do It Like Team Free Will Challenge! My gif prompt is in the fic. This is also for @because-imma-lady-assface who wrote up this prompt and let me fly with it. Hope I did what you had in mind (recognize the title?) Big ups to my Sis @idreamofhazel for the beta and love. Feedback is ALWAYS loved. Please enjoy responsibly...
It started at dinner.
It was nothing fancy, just spaghetti and meatballs, something you’d been craving for a while and finally had the time to make. You sat next to Sam, watching with a smile as across the table, Dean practically licked his plate clean. As you watched Dean, you felt Sam watching you. He rested his head in his hand, leaning against the tabletop; a loving grin playing on his lips and making his dimples pop.
You were not oblivious to the look in his eyes, but you ignored him and finished your food, laughing as Dean slurped a long, sauce-covered string of pasta into his mouth like a child. That’s when Sam stepped up his game. His left hand dropped below the table and brushed lightly against your knee. Again, you ignored him, pretending not to notice the touch. His fingers danced up your leg and curled around your upper thigh, settling there with a light but suggestive pressure.
You peered at him quickly, but kept up your facade of not being affected by his actions. His eyes were lidded and his grin had faded into a teasing smirk that gave you a sneak peek into his thoughts. His hand shifted again, his long fingers sliding down to press firmly between your legs. You gasped and swallowed hard, clearing your throat to calm yourself and not let Dean see the blush that had surely crept over your cheeks. Sam’s fingers pressed down again and you knew for sure, tonight… it was on.
Sam helped you with the dishes as Dean took off to set himself in front of the TV to nap through his carb overload. You hummed quietly as you washed the plates and bowls, Sam standing close by with a faded blue towel, ready to dry once you were done. He took each dish from your hand slowly, his fingers closing over yours as he smiled. He would dry them delicately and then move past you, careful to brush a hand over your ass while he walked to the cabinets to stow the clean plates. More than once Sam reached over you to grab something from the opposite side of the sink, just a ploy to touch your breasts with his firm forearm.
Even the silence was foreplay. He spoke not a word, offered no accompaniment to your simple humming. He kept his hungry hazel eyes glued to your form, watching closely as you did your job, occasionally finding another reason to run his fingers over your skin. It was infuriating and exciting; the promise of a rumble between the sheets made your blood burn with desire.
By the time the sink was clear, you were ready to go. You took your time, wiping down the sink and counter and carefully wringing out the sponge, setting it to dry against the taps. Sam moved around to stand behind you, pressing himself firmly against your back, and reached around with both hands to hang the damp towel over the faucet spout. You closed your eyes and leaned back a bit, letting yourself feel every inch of his body that he offered you. Your heart was pounding and you squeezed your legs tight, feeling the deep throb between your thighs grow stronger. Finally you couldn’t take his teasing anymore and you spun around to face him, sliding your hands up his chest and around his shoulders. Sam closed his arms around you, his hands landing on the small of your back as he leaned down and kissed you. You tried to hold him there, grip his shoulders and lock his mouth to yours, but he pulled away quickly with a loud smack of his lips.
You looked up, confused as he slinked away. “I’m gonna go catch the end of the game with Dean.”
“I-what? Sam!”
The man did not even turn around as you called to him, your voice rising with frustration and disappointment. He simply turned and walked straight out of the kitchen, giving you neither apology nor sympathy.
“Bastard,” you growled and clicked your tongue, seething with annoyance and now a desperate need for him.
After a few moments of pouting, you stormed off to bed, making sure to let your stomping feet echo through the halls, your voice growl loudly, and your door slam wildly so Sam could hear how perturbed you were.
What a jerk, you thought and peeled off your clothes, dumping them unceremoniously onto the floor. If he thinks for one second that he’s gonna waltz in here later and get some, he’s out of his friggin’ mind. You pulled on one of Sam’s old Stamford tees and hopped onto the bed, propping the pillows up behind you. Out. Of. His. Mind.
You cocked your knees and picked up the paperback from your nightstand, determined to get lost in some mindless romantic nonsense and let your anger drift away.
It wasn’t a long book by any means, but you’d made it almost to the end by the time the door knob turned. You didn’t lift your head, didn’t take your eyes off your page as you heard Sam walk in. Without a word he walked over and stood at the foot of the bed, just looking down at you. Curiosity got the better of you and you lifted your eyes, peering up at him. Your breath stopped for a long second as you beheld the beauty before you. Sam was fresh from a steaming hot shower. His long hair was wet and slicked back perfectly from his forehead. His skin was flushed and speckled with droplets of water that slid down his bare chest, disappearing beneath the deep v of his hips, caught finally by the white cotton towel that he held in place with one lazy fist.
You cleared your throat, plastered on your best “I don’t give a fuck” face, and returned to your book. Move it along, sir. I ain’t got nothing for ya.
“Good book?” he asked, letting his tongue slip out and moisten his bottom lip.
You ignored him, merely lifting an eyebrow in annoyance.
“Hmm, must be good.”
Sam rounded the edge of the bed and slowly moved towards you, his pace both alluring and aggravating. You couldn’t help the hunger that crept up inside of you, couldn’t stop your breath from catching in your throat as you watched the glistening muscles of his stomach move while he neared you. When he let the towel drop, you gasped silently, pulling in a deep breath to counter the dizzy feeling that took over as your eyes fell to his delicious cock.
“Thought that would get your attention,” he said, stopping just inches from you.
You sucked your teeth and sneered at him as you turned back to your story. “Go away, I'm mad at you.”
He laughed. “What? Why?”
You closed your book and shot him another particularly nasty look. “Because you're a damn tease, Sam Winchester, and it's just mean what you did to me tonight.”
Sam leaned down and grabbed the book off of your lap, tossing it across the room. It landed on the floor with a dull thud. “I thought you liked it when I'm playful.”
You growled in protest at his book snatching. “Not like that,” you explained through clenched teeth. “That was mean. A girl has needs, Sam. You can't just lead her on like that and not deliver. It's bad for our insides.”
Sam laughed again and lunged at you, locking his hands around your ankles and pulling you down the bed until your back was flat on the mattress. You yelped but he ignored your objection. “Is that so?” he asked as he climbed onto the bed, fitting himself neatly between your legs and caging you in place with his study arms. Sam hovered over you, an amused grin upon his lips, his darkened eyes darting over your face. It was more than you could handle, but you kept your face as filled with disapproval as you could; he had to learn not to mess with you.
“It's a fact. Now, get off me.”
Sam nodded, dipping his head until his nose brushed against yours. Droplets of water fell from his hair onto your shirt, darkening the shale gray cotton with expanding circles. “Hmm. Here's a fact for you,” he whispered against your lips, “You're gonna kiss me in a few seconds.”
It was your turn to laugh. You picked your chin up, almost knocking him in the head, making him move back a little, “I am not.”
“Yes, you are.”
The cocky bastard. “And how are you so confident?” You pushed at his chest with your hands, wanting him to go away, but all it achieved was making your cheeks hotter. His was all muscle and tight skin, his body still damp from the hot shower. Your fingers took on a life of their own as they traveled his chiseled expanse, feeling every dip and line, curling into his chest hair, tracing his collarbone, doing all the things your mind didn’t want them to do. You were losing this game, and quickly.
“Because I'm gonna kiss you first,” he explained, speaking slowly and deliberately so he was sure you heard every syllable drip from his tongue. “I'm gonna make you close your eyes, make your heart sputter. Make your back arch into my hand, make you sweat.”
A chill ran down your spine, radiating through every nerve, fanning out like branches of a river. It flowed through you and settled in your core, sealing your fate. But still, you kept your voice aloof. “All from one kiss, huh?”
“Just... one...” Sam’s breath tickled your lips as he spoke, a whisper that did more for you than any sonnet or love song he could ever perform for you. His voice was another thing you could never resist, and he used it well to his advantage.
“I’ll give you an A plus for swagger, but I still don’t see how that’s me kissing you.”
Sam licked his lips as he laughed at your comment. “Well, when I’m done, you’re gonna kiss me.”
“I won’t.”
“You will. You’re going to beg for it.”
You sighed dramatically and shrugged beneath him. “OK, give it your best shot.”
His approach was just as slow and calculated as everything else he'd done that night. He shifted his weight, leaning on his left arm to free his right. He lifted his hand and laid it tenderly on your cheek, just barely brushing your skin. His fingers curled against your cheekbone, his thumb passed slowly over your lips. Despite yourself, he had you, caught like a fly in his web. His eyes burned into yours, never letting you go. They reached down into the very depths of your soul and tugged at your heart, they stopped your breath, set every nerve on fire. You parted your lips, exhaling against his calloused thumb as Sam bent his neck to you.
His lips were soft and wet; they slid gracefully against yours before the pressure built. Harder and harder he pressed with barely a twitch of his lips. He didn't move to sneak into your mouth, didn't push at you with his tongue, not yet. He held you there, waiting; your breath meeting between you. Gradually his hand began to slide down your cheek, ghosts of his fingertips danced along your neck and onward. Finally Sam tilted his head and opened his mouth over yours. His hot tongue swept over your bottom lip, just a subtle pass of the wet muscle that melted your resolve. You sank into the mattress and parted your lips, barely able to do more than accept his touch. His giant hand hovered over your breast, and then it happened: you arched your back, pressing yourself into his warm palm, just as he'd predicted.
You felt him smile against your lips before he pulled back, breaking the incredible kiss. Only then did you realize your eyes had fluttered shut, your breath was labored, your skin flushed. He'd been right, but you didn't care.
“Sam,” you breathed, lifting your lashes to spy him again.
“Yes Y/N?”
“You're a jerk.” Before he could respond, your hands gripped the back of his neck and pulled him down as you rose up. You attacked his lips with a drive that scared you; he was the oxygen your body had been craving, the fuel that kept you going. Sam was everything.
The kiss was never-ending, not really. Even when your mouths left each others, your lips would fall to another patch of skin, never far away for long. You kissed your way across the broad line of his shoulders and down his chest, loving and needing to feel every bit of him.
His fingers dug into your flesh; they peeled away your shirt, snuck beneath the cotton of your panties, floating over your body, taking their time getting you ready for him. Sam coaxed your legs further apart with his hips, nudging at your heat with the tip of his cock. When the moment came, when he finally pushed inside, the entire world fell away. There was nothing but Sam. Nothing but his hips against yours, nothing but the hard press of him inside; only his eyes on yours, his lips, his breath, his heat.
Every movement was deliciously slow; Sam moved with purpose, using his knowledge of your body to draw out every inch of pleasure from you that he could. His hands held you tight, his lips grazed your throat, lashes brushed your cheek, hair fell out of place to cover your eyes. He never tired, never wavered in his attentions; this had been his goal all along: to make you feel every bit of his love.
In the end it was a rolling wave that ripped his name from your lips, pushing it out with a shuddering moan as you came in his arms. Sam picked up his pace, enthused by your pulsing body, his hips thrusting faster into you until he released with a deep growl.
Sam moved away, rolling over you to fall against the mountain of pillows you’d erected. Still catching your breath, you crawled to him and rested your head on his outstretched arm. He rolled towards you, placing a lingering kiss on your lips.
“Sorry I teased you earlier,” he smiled, letting his fingers sweep up and down your back in lazy strokes.
You sighed and brushed the hair back from his face. “I forgive you,” you whispered against his lips before kissing him sweetly, “this time.”
Sammy Lovers:
@akoya-pearls @codenameruby @courtney-elizabeth-winchester @fiercespnbaebeyonce @frickfracklesackles @jealousbitxh @lavieenlex @niamandthings @nerdwholikesword @ofloveandlonging @oneshoeshort @paleogamrgrl @sammy-moo @saxxxology @spontaneousam @troubletrumble @winchester-writes
Forevers:
@27bmm @allinhishands @amanda-teaches @ameliaponders @arryn-nyxx @atc74 @autopistaaningunaparte @babypieandwhiskey @bea789 @because-imma-lady-assface @becauseyouwishedit @blacktithe7 @blanketmadeofstar @brewsthespirit-blog @bulletscrossbowpie @callmesatansprincess @captainemwinchester @chaos-and-the-calm67 @charliebradbury1104 @chelsea072498 @chumi-la-chula @cyrilconnelly @dannnyphantomm @daughterleftbehind @disphandomgirl @docharleythegeekqueen @dreamingofwinchesters @dustycelt @dylanosprayberry03 @emptywithout @evansrogerskitten @evyiione @fabulouslycassie @faegal04 @faithfullpanicmoon @fandomsanarchy @feelmyroarrrr @fiercespnbaebeyonce @freddy-fuckboy-tammy @frenchybell @fuckyeahfeysand @gemini75eeyore @growningupgeek @hareliketherabbit @hexparker @idreamofhazel @ilsawasanacrobat @im-super-potter-locked @impalaimagining @inmysparetime0 @inthedepthsofdespair @j2-winchester-boys @jayankles @jesspfly @jotink78 @jpadjackles @katrodriguez99 @lauren-novak @lipstickandwhiskey @li-ssu @luciisthebest @luulaachops @maddieburcham1 @meeshwalsh7 @megansescape @meganwinchester1999 @mein1928 @mija-novella @milkymilky-cocopuff @mjdoc90 @mogaruke @mrsbatesmotel53 @mrswhozeewhatsis @my-life-is-here-soo @myfand0msandm0re @mysteriouslyme81 @naadestiel @nekobemura @nerdysandwichqueen @nervousmemzie @notesfromalabprincess @ohgodjensen @ohmychuckitssamanddean @percussiongirl2017 @petrovadixon @pinknerdpanda @poukothenerd @pretttypadalecki @riddikulus-obsessions @riversong-sam @roxy-davenport @sam-w @sea040561 @sgarrett49 @shhhs3cret @sumara62 @summer-binging-spn @super-not-naturall @supernaturallymarvellous @tennesseewhiskey-and-pie @therosecolouredpost @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @tmccarney @trexrambling @typicalweirdbookworm @wayward-marvel-sommer1196 @winchesterprincessbride @wordstothewisereaders @wvnchxstxr @yearoftheweasley @yvngkinggchristyy
