Parings: Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader
Word count: 1,205
Request: Anonymous. If requests are open can I request a fluffy (maybe smutty) poly Sam x reader x dean (maybe au like no hunting)? I love your poly fics
Read on AO3
Standing at the airport, you had your 11 month old on your hip- every bit her father’s daughter. Her dirty blonde hair left loose, as you loved how naturally wavy it was. Her green eyes currently couldn’t be seen as she was napping on your shoulder, her small hand gripping your shirt. Your hand was being held by your son- his father’s clone. He left his hair shaggy, just like his, which only enhanced his hazel eyes. At 5, he was trying to be as much like his role model as possible. Not that you would argue.
“Mommy?” Came your son’s sweet voice. “Are they gonna be here soon?” He was getting impatient, and you knew exactly how he felt.
You smiled at him. “Soon, Danny.” You assured him, wanting to get away from the strangers taking pictures of you and your kids.
Seeing your husband’s head above the rest, you grinned. Soon, you saw his face and he had a huge grin on it when he saw the three of you. Seconds later, you spotted your other husband, his eyes locked on the sleeping infant on your shoulder. They’d been away for the past two months, so he was eager to hold his baby girl. “Daddy!” Your son yelled, running to him.
Sam laughed, crouching down to scoop him up. “Wow. You got so big!” He said as he moved towards you. “There’s our gorgeous wife.” His eyes were full of love as he kissed you softly. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
Danny scrunched his nose. “Ew.” Sam chuckled as he pulled away. “Gross.”
Dean instantly took Levi from your shoulder, putting her on his chest. “I missed my girls.” He kissed her cheek, and then you.
You smiled. “Well, your girls missed you.”
“Come on, let’s get home before those jerks start stampeding.” Dean groaned, putting his hand on your lower back, his bag over his shoulder.
“Yeah, the pictures started as soon as we got out of the car.” You sighed.
Dean shook his head. “We’ve been together 8 years, married 6, you’d think by now it wouldn’t be front page news.” He rolled his eyes.
Sitting at the breakfast table in one of Sam’s shirts, you sipped your coffee and started to browse the internet. Dean was still sleeping, and Sam was out swimming laps. So, you figured you’d might as well catch up on some world news.
“Oh you have got to be kidding me.” You groaned, sitting back.
Your old friend, the head chef, heard you and peaked around the corner. “What’s wrong, doll?” The older male asked.
You sighed. “Since we went public, people are ridiculous! I mean, I was expecting pictures and all that…but really?” You motioned to the laptop. “What does my old job have to do with anything?” You’d been a cook for them before you started dating 6 months prior. Now you helped out everyone in the house. You didn’t ‘work’ for them anymore, but you did live there.
“You managed to snag not one, but two, of Hollywood’s hottest men. Both Winchesters.” He pointed out. “It’ll die down soon enough.”
“I hope so.” Looking over, you licked your lips. “Need any help, Tony?” You smiled.
He laughed. “Bored?”
Laughing, you shook your head. “I miss our kitchen talks.” He’d always been a kind head chef, but firm.
“How about you help with lunch. I’m making your favorite.” He grinned when you looked excited.
Both kids were bathed, and tucked in. Now, it was time for the three of you to just relax. During a normal week, you spent three nights with Dean, three with Sam, alternating. Then, the last night, alternated bi weekly. So, the first week of the month the 7th day might be Sam, so the next would be Dean, going on and on. It worked well since you’d figured that out. It had taken trial and error.
Tonight, however, was a special night. Nights they got back from filming, the three of you curled up into bed together, and cuddled. Understandably, you never had sex with both at the same time. It would have been weird all around in your opinion. That didn’t stop the press from writing about the insane orgies you apparently hosted.
Your head was on Sam’s shoulder, his arm around you, and his hand on your stomach. Your legs were across Dean, one of his hands massaging your foot, the other on your thigh. Just having them home made your world feel more complete. “So, I wanted to talk to you guys.” You smiled.
Sam chuckled, shaking you slightly. “Okay, doesn’t sound bad.” He teased you.
“What’s up, babe?” Dean asked.
“I want to have our last two kids soon.” You told them. Dean’s eyebrows went out. “Hear me out.” This was something you’d thought through, after all. “Not only would it put them close to age, it means that we’d wait less time for us to be able to travel with you. If we wait years before each? That’ll mean longer times with us away from you.”
Dean nodded. “You do have a point there.” You refused to fly when trying, especially once you’d had Danny and were trying with Dean. Flying while pregnant didn’t sound comfortable, and neither did flying with a newborn. “I can agree with that if Sammy can.”
He thought about it. “Well, we will have that press thing for the movie in about 7-8 months. Would you be okay for that time by yourself? After that we’re free for a bit.” Sam added.
Smiling, you looked up at him. “How about we plan to start trying in a couple months? There’s no telling if it would happen right away, and the baby would be due hopefully when you’re done, or close to done.” Of course, they’d fly home to get to you, but they didn’t want to risk missing the birth of any of their kids.
“I think that’s perfect.” Sam agreed, nodding.
“How old do you want them to be when we try for ours?” Dean asked. This was how things went. Things were discussed with all three of you, and planned the three of you.
You thought. “I’d like the same time frame as this one, filming permitting.” Which was always something to consider. “We’ll see what it looks like after we have baby number three.”
Sam leaned down, kissing the top of your head. “I can’t wait.” He grinned. “I love watching you with the kids.”
Hearing Levi crying, you chuckled. “I got it.” Dean grinned, getting up. “I’ll admit. I missed this.” He jogged up the stairs.
Shifting, your head was in his lap. “So, four kids.” You grinned, running your fingers over his scruff. “Life will be insane.”
“In the best way.” He added, looking towards the stairs as Dean came down holding Levi. “What’s up?”
Dean chuckled. “She just wanted to be held.” Levi giggled, looking cute as she leaned on Dean. “I have a feeling this one will pose for the paparazzi.” You and Sam nodded. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s go play.” He moved to lay on his back on the floor with her, the movie simply background noise now.
Summary: Sam has made the reader’s dreams come true, and now he’s making one more a reality.
Characters: Sam x Reader
Word Count: 1692
A/N: This is for @thinkinghardhardlythinking . It’s based on a fic she wrote called Where Are We? Check it out on her Masterlist. While you’re there, spend some time enjoying some of the best fics I’ve read in this fandom. If you haven’t read it, it is some of the sweetest fluff you will ever find. I originally intended for this fic to be pure fluff, but Sam and the reader had other ideas. I hope this little escape with Sam makes you smile, Sai.
Sam’s large hands covered your eyes, and his lips softly grazed your ear before he asked, “Where are we?”
You inhaled the salt of the sea that hung in the air, smiled, and sighed deeply. Your voice was only slightly louder than his whisper when you answered, “Sam, I know where we are.”
He didn’t move his hands, still playing the game that it was a surprise. “Yeah, but I want to hear you say it.”
“We’re in Bali.” A happy tingle coursed through your body when you said the words out loud. Being here was just one more dream Sam had made come true for you.
He dropped his hands from your eyes and wrapped them around your waist. You were sitting between his long outstretched legs on the white upholstered chaise with your back resting against the warmth of his bare chest, made even warmer by the caress of the sun upon it. He would have a beautiful golden tan by the time this vacation was over.
The view before you was breathtaking, and you settled your arms over his where they were still securely around your waist, holding him closer to you. A gentle breeze was blowing in from the ocean. The afternoon sunlight had softened from the bright glow of the morning, and in a couple more hours the sky would begin to fill with the pinks and oranges of sunset.
“This is perfect, Sam.” A contented sigh left your lips, and you could feel Sam’s smile against your skin when he brushed the lightest of kisses across your cheek.
“I think you’re even more beautiful here,” he said, “if that’s possible.” He nuzzled his cheek into your hair.
The intimate gesture sparked a deliciously naughty thought in your mind. Actually, it was more of a memory. You bit your bottom lip and drew it up, running it along Sam’s muscular calf and thigh. “Sam, where were we this morning?”
He leaned his head into your and nibbled at your earlobe. “We were in bed.” There it was. That voice. The one Sam reserved for use in the bedroom, or when he wanted to go there. “You keep making me think about it like this, and I’ll pick you up and take you back there right now.” He moved his mouth lower to kiss your neck.
The touch of his lips made you melt, and you rubbed your hand lightly over his forearm while he kissed you, feeling the prominent veins there as you did. Never before had you found a thing like veins sexy, but on Sam; they absolutely were.
You moaned at the feel of him, his mouth and his skin. The sound you made was a mix of happiness and the ever present need you had for him. “We don’t have to go back inside, Sam.”
His mouth kept moving lower, his kisses covering the exposed skin of your shoulder. “You mean do it right here?” he asked. He sounded surprised and hopeful.
You turned in Sam’s arms. Your body was now lying on top of his, and you could feel every beautiful inch of him beneath you. He was firm, toned, and gorgeous. Your fingers explored his chest and his well defined biceps. You almost forgot to answer him; you were lost in his sheer beauty. It still amazed you how a man could be that masculine and that beautiful.
“We could,” you finally said. “It’s private enough.” The resort where you were staying had positioned the bungalows far enough apart that privacy was assured, probably for this very reason.
Sam swallowed at the thought. He ran his hands slowly down your back, stopping them just below your waist where the curve of your hips began to swell. He kissed you, the sweet taste of his mouth on your lips; and his tongue circling with a gentle insistence around yours.
When he pulled back, you looked into his eyes. Every time you did you felt a flutter in your heart, just as you had the first time you looked into them knowing that you loved him. That flutter had never gone away, and you were sure it never would.
Today Sam’s eyes were a hypnotizing mix of blue, green, and gold that blended the colors of the sun, sea, and sky. Gazing into his eyes, tears started to gather at the corners of your own. Sam brushed away the bit of moisture with the pad of his thumb.
“Y/N, what is it?” He left his hand on your face, holding it gently in his large palm.
You didn’t say anything, just looked into his eyes. It was still hard to believe you could look into them as long as you wanted and as often as you wanted now. You’d dreamed of it for so long.
Sam had started stroking the side of your face lightly with his knuckles when you finally said, “Sometimes I just can’t believe all of this is real. It’s so wonderful that it scares me it could all just go away.”
“Y/N.” The sound of Sam saying your name, and the soft roar of the ocean waves crashing onto the beach, soothed your fears. Sam’s eyes didn’t leave yours, and he smiled at you so softly that his dimples barely started to show.
“What we have together is true, and it’s real, Y/N. More real than anything I’ve ever known. I didn’t think I could be a hunter and have love. Now, I live to see you smile. That’s never going to change.”
Something shifted inside of you at that moment that was as big and powerful as any earthquake without the destruction. This was the opposite. All those moments you’d shared with Sam had built something. All those days you’d spent in the bunker doing the mundane things of ordinary life, like when you did the laundry together, hadn’t been ordinary at all. You’d been creating this thing you had together, this indestructible, eternal, better than a fairytale thing.
You wrapped your arms around him, needing that closeness, wanting to hold what belonged to you. Sam returned the embrace, keeping you safe and loved within his arms. You closed your eyes and lay your head on his chest, inhaling the scent of him and etching this moment into your memory.
After a few minutes, Sam shifted onto his side. You were now on your side too, facing him. Your fingers skimmed through his long silky hair. The first night you had ever spent with Sam, you had lain in bed with him just like this after you’d made love, playing with his hair and running your hands over his body because you could, because he wanted you to.
Sam kissed you with your fingers still in his hair. He swiped his tongue over your lower lip, and then eased it gently into your mouth. The deeper the kiss became, the more your fingers tightened in his hair.
You were wearing a simple loose fitting white swimsuit cover up over your suit, making it easy for Sam to slide it up your thigh and move your suit to the side so he could run his thick finger through your already slick folds. You inhaled sharply and held your breath when he pushed his finger into your opening.
He left a trail of kisses from your mouth, along your cheek, up to your ear. “Do you know when you’re the most beautiful, Y/N?”
“No,” you answered. Sam was stroking that sweet spot inside of you, and your breathing was getting more ragged by the second.
“You are gorgeous when you come for me.” That voice was back, the deep sexy smooth bedroom voice that could make you come from the sound of it alone. “Are you going to come, Y/N?”
“Sam. Sam.” Your fingers dug into his bicep; your orgasm getting closer with his every word and every movement of his finger.
He pushed another finger inside you, filling you and edging you closer to what you knew was going to be a bone melting orgasm. “That’s it. Let me make you feel good, baby. Let go for me.”
You clenched around his fingers and called out his name as you gave your orgasm to him the way he wanted. He worked you through it until your hold on his arm loosened. “Sam.” He kissed you until your breathing evened out.
“You okay?” he whispered, still holding you close.
“Yes, but I need more of you.” You sat up and pulled your arms into the sleeves of your cover up, working the straps of your suit down your arms, and taking it off. Sam saw what you were doing. He turned onto his back and lifted his hips, taking off his swim trunks and tossing them to the deck.
Sam didn’t seem to mind that he was completely naked while you were keeping your modesty, still wearing your cover up, because his hands could explore your body beneath it. He cupped your breasts in his large hands and ran them down your sides, resting them firmly on your hips.
He was covering your neck with open mouthed kisses, and the ache for him in your core was becoming more intense. “Sam, need you.”
Sam rolled you onto your back and gently opened your legs. You could feel the blunt tip of his cock at your opening. His eyes held yours while he entered you, taking it slow to allow your body time to adjust and stretch around him.
He knew how to read you and your body; he knew how to give you everything you needed. The way Sam moved inside you made you forget everything but now and him. He brought you to a second orgasm, holding off his own pleasure until he brought you to that peak for the third time. It was only then that he fell over with you.
You lay in each other’s arms, beneath the sun with the sound of the ocean in your ears. Sam kissed your forehead, and he asked, “Where are we?”
Summary: Sam is about to finish the last trial that will close the gates of hell. The reader has some very good reasons why he shouldn’t.
Characters: Sam x angel!Reader; Dean and Crowley mentioned
Word Count: 876
A/N: I found another fic in my docs. Still going through them to complete my Masterlist. There are spoilers for Season 8.
He was sitting in the back of the little abandoned church, shoulders bent, oblivious to your presence. Sam wasn’t aware of you, but you knew everything there was to know about him. You had watched over him from the moment Azazel first dropped the demon blood into his mouth. You’d been with him as he grew up feeling like a freak, saddened that you’d been unable to stop the events in his life that had hurt him so deeply.
Maybe you couldn’t stop them, but you could temper his grief, ease his despair and pull him back from the precipice when it was required. In his darkest times, you’d held him in the night invisible to his eyes; but his soul had felt you. His heart had found some peace at the touch of your unseen fingers combing through his hair.
You had comforted him when Jessica died, whispering into his mind, telling him his pain would eventually pass. Sam had been terrified in the months leading up to the apocalypse, afraid of who he was and what he was meant to do, scared of going to hell. It was your connection to him that helped him survive being trapped in the cage with Lucifer. You knew everything he had endured there, things he pushed down even now and would not acknowledge.
Sam had always believed, needed to believe. He had thought angels were guardians and protectors. It his mind, they were pure and unselfish. Until, he found out most of them weren’t. You weren’t most, and it was time to reveal yourself to him. Your days as an angel were numbered. You were going to renounce your wings and become human for this man. You had seen your future with Sam, and now you were going to share it with him, give him a reason to live.
You walked to the pew where Sam sat and stood at the end of it watching him. These trials had taken a toll on him. He was tired, weak, and his bloodshot eyes leaked tears. Quietly, you materialized so he might see you. You stepped between the pews to get closer and knelt before him. Tentatively, you lay your hand on top of his. Sam jumped slightly at the unexpected touch. For the first time, he could physically feel you.
His exhausted eyes were still beautiful. You smiled and brushed your fingers lightly over his knuckles. “Hi, Sam.” His eyes held questions, but he wasn’t afraid. You raised your hand to his cheek cupped the side of his face. “My brave love.”
“Wh...who are you? Are you real?” His brow furrowed, his mind almost as tired as his body.
“Yes, Sam. I’m real.” He closed his eyes and turned his face into your touch. He knew it, recognized it. “That’s it, my darling. I’m here.” You gave him a moment of peace listening to him breathe. “Sam, I need you to listen to me. Open your eyes.” You took both his hands in yours. “You can’t keep doing what you’re doing, Sam. You’ll die, and I need you to live. They need you to live.”
You touched your finger to his head so he could see what you already knew. He closed his eyes again, and after a brief look of confusion a smile crossed his face. “She’s...she’s...” His voice was quiet with emotion.
“She’s yours, Sam. Ours. Our first born.” When his eyes blinked open, he tilted his head studying you. “You know what I’m saying is true.” You wiped a tear from his cheek. “She’s your little girl. Your first little girl. She’s going to have a sister, and a brother too, but only if you stop. Please, Sam.”
Sam started crying again. “I have to close the gates of Hell.”
“No, sweetheart. There is still something more important for you to do.”
Sam turned his face from you. “I don’t. I don’t understand.”
You took his chin in your hand and turned him back to you. “Not now, but you will. Trust me. Dean will be here soon, and you need to listen to him. Let him help you. Whatever it takes, let him help you. You won’t see me again for many years, but I’ll be by your side as always. I’m always with you, Sam.”
The Impala’s engine rumbled outside announcing Dean’s arrival. Your time with Sam was running out. “You are a good man, Sam Winchester.” You lifted his bandaged arm to place his hand over his heart. “Carry that knowledge here.” You knew he wouldn’t consciously remember what had just happened between you, but you could visit him in his dreams and once again be with him in the nights until the time came you would meet again.
You kissed him tenderly as Dean came bursting into the back of the church. “I love you, Sam.” Dean didn’t see you as you stood and once more disappeared, neither had the now partially human demon sitting in the front of the sanctuary seen what just transpired between you and Sam. You walked back down the aisle past Dean, taking one last look over your shoulder at the man who was the reason you had been made all those millennia ago.
Summary: Sometimes happiness waits on the other side of pain and misunderstanding.
Characters: Sam x Reader; Dean mentioned
Word Count: 3826
A/N: The expansion of my Masterlist continues. This is another one of my early fics that I’ve revised a little and am reposting. At the time I wrote it, I wanted to explore the effect someone’s looks can have on them wherever they may fall on the spectrum of what is considered conventionally attractive.
READER’S POV
There had been a time Sam picked up girls in bars, not with the frequency Dean had, but he'd done it. Now, he was doing it again. Dean had stopped entirely because he was in love, monogamous, and completely happy. Dean spent his nights sharing a bed with his soul mate. Sam prowled bars, and you hid away, alone, in your room.
Your heart broke again every time Sam didn't come home. The pain was fresh like it was the first time, like somehow your heart had mended, had rebuilt itself just to be shattered again. A heart in pieces leaves an emptiness in the center of your being, but all the broken shards are still there, the sharp edges piercing you from the inside out. That was how it felt when night fell, and Sam wasn’t in the bunker. You knew where he was and what he was doing.
Those were sleepless nights for you, nights spent hearing Sam's voice in your head. You'd always been too romantic for your own damn good. How could you be sitting here in the dark, back against your headboard, clutching your pillow tightly to your chest while you cried over the loss of a man you'd never had? He wasn't a man you were going to have. You'd seen pictures of Jessica. You just weren't his type. Sure, you could dye your hair blonde. That still wouldn't make you model gorgeous with a perfect body.
You were smart, maybe not Stanford smart, but who knows? You might have been if you'd actually studied in high school instead of sitting in the back of class scribbling love poems in your notebooks. You had more than one regret and missed opportunity in your life.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Sam's footsteps coming down the hall. He had to pass your room to get to his. That's when you got your brilliant idea. You jumped up and flicked on the lights, splashed cold water on your face at the sink, and reached for your makeup bag to erase the evidence of your crying.
Minutes later you were knocking on Sam's door. He opened the door dressed for bed, and you smiled your prettiest for him. "Can I come in?" He opened the door wider giving you room to walk inside and stood with his arm over his head, hand on the door as he leaned against it watching you.
You took a seat on the end of his bed and waited. Sam closed the door and walked closer to the bed. He was still looking at you with an unspoken question in his green eyes touched with warm honey.
He didn't move any closer, and he didn't say anything. Your broken heart made you bold. "Your night didn't go the way you had planned?"
Sam raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. "Planned?"
"Yeah. You know. You didn't go home with anyone." You looked down as you said it, unable to meet his eyes and say it out loud.
Sam sat down next to you, head bowed, his hand under his hair on the back of his neck. "Uhh...no, I didn't go home with anyone."
You inched closer to him until your thigh was touching his. He looked at your bare leg and swallowed. You hadn't worn anything to bed but an oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties.
"You don't have to spend the night alone, Sam." You reached for his hand and moved it to the inside of your thigh parting your legs slightly. His hand covered a large portion of your leg. It was warm and solid, and the feel of it made your core quiver.
SAM'S POV
Your skin is so soft, and you smell so good. How am I supposed to resist this? Resist you when I've wanted you for so long? I can't. I just can't. I'm sorry. You should be touched by a man you love, not me. I love you, but you deserve more than something one sided. That's why I haven't said anything or made a move. Maybe I shouldn't have put you on a pedestal, but I did. In my mind, that's where you belong.
I slide my hand along your smooth skin stopping at the top of your thigh, take a deep breath, and pull you closer to me with my other arm so I can kiss you. Your mouth opens under mine, and my tongue eases inside. Everything about you is so sweet. I'll never forget the way you taste. I want to leave some trace of me on you, some mark, some memory that you were mine for a little while. I pull you down on the bed with me and roll on top of you.
My kiss gets deeper; you accept it and respond. My hand is moving over your hip and under your shirt. I'm already halfway to hard. My hand is resting on your waist, and I keep kissing you, taking it slow.
I've thought about kissing you so many times, but my imagination never got it right. My hand continues its move up your body over your stomach, and I feel you pull back the tiniest bit. Alarm bells go off in my head. You're beneath me, in my arms. I want you so much, but if you’re not absolutely sure…. I pull back and look at you. "I can't do this, Y/N."
The expression on your face sent a pain straight to my heart. The next thing I felt was your hands pushing against my chest. "Get off of me!" I sat back, and you were off the bed instantly, glaring at me through tears.
"Really, Sam? Am I that much of a disappointment? Just tell me I'm not good enough for you. Just tell me!" You stormed across the room fumbling with the doorknob before you managed to get it open.
You turned back to me. I was frozen in place trying to absorb the shock of being snatched out of the soft, perfect dream that I'd been lost in seconds before. "Go back to the bar, Sam. It's early. I'm sure there are plenty of tall blondes there with long legs, or petite brunettes, or whatever the hell you want. Take your pick; you can, and I'm sure she'll be happy to satisfy you."
The slamming of the door got my brain working again. I almost fell off the bed in my hurry to get to you, to explain. By the time I got the door open, there was no sign of you in the hall. I ran toward your room calling your name. When I got there I wanted to crash through the door, but I controlled my near desperation to let you know what I truly felt, that I would never think you weren’t good enough. It’s me who isn’t good enough for you.
I knocked on the door. Seconds passed. You weren't going to answer it. I didn't blame you, believing what you did. "Y/N. Y/N. Please. You don't understand. Let me explain. It's not what you think. At all. It's nothing like what you think."
READER'S POV
Sam had stopped knocking on the door, but he hadn't stopped talking. You were leaning against the door listening. "Please let me in, Y/N. I'll tell you everything. Just let me in." He sounded genuinely upset.
Even now, after what he'd done, you still wanted to comfort him. You wanted to take the hurt from his voice. Slowly, you opened the door. His chest was rising and falling fast. This really had affected him. That didn't make sense. You'd offered him sex. Scratch that. You'd offered him you, and he wasn't interested. Now, he was upset? You saw the relief wash over his face. "Y/N?"
In a flat voice you said,"You can come in." He stepped just inside the room. You walked to the bed and sat down. "Stay over there."
Sam folded his hands in front of him, drawing your attention to the bulge that was still in his pajama pants. He focused on the floor in front of where you were sitting. "Why did you do it, Sam? Do you know what it feels like to be cast aside like that?" You swallowed and shook your head, fighting back another wave of tears. "No, you don't, because practically every woman that sees you wants you. If you spend the night alone, it's because you choose to."
He raised his head to look straight into your eyes. "I've chosen to spend a lot of nights alone. Do you know why?" He paused. "Because I met you. I started noticing these little things about you like you chew on your bottom lip when you're trying to figure something out. You run your hands through your hair and put it behind your ears all the time; it's enough to drive a guy crazy. You always eat your French fries first. When you want to relax or calm down, you listen to rain or ocean waves. Then one day you smiled at me like you had probably hundreds of times before, but that time was different. That time I felt my stomach do a little flip, and I knew I was in love with you."
A tear slipped down your cheek. Sam's voice was deep and gentle as he kept talking. "Then Dean got married, and right in front of me every day I saw what it was like to share your life with someone. He had everything I wanted. My brother was happy."
Sam looked up to the ceiling; tears collected in the corners of his eyes. He looked back down, blinked, and they fell. Then he raised his eyes back to yours. "So, I started going to bars because it was too hard to be here, but I was never going to find what I was looking for there because it was already here, and I knew it. I wanted to be with you."
"Sam?" His name came out of your mouth as a whisper.
"The problem was you didn't want it. I saw your reaction when waitresses would flirt with me at the diners we went to. You'd tense up or get fidgety. You didn't like it. You thought I was one of those guys who likes to play those games, using my looks to stroke my own ego."
You put your hand over your mouth and held it there before you moved it down to your chin, fingers shaking. "Sam, I never thought that about you. I thought I could never measure up to those women who were flirting with you. That’s what I didn’t like, that I was someone who could never get your attention." Your hand was shaking harder now.
Sam crossed the room in three steps and wrapped his arms around you. He held you and rested his chin on top of your head. "Don't you know you're beautiful, Y/N?"
You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with tears. "How would I know that, Sam? No one has ever told me." He squinted his eyes slightly and brushed the tears from your cheeks with the pad of his thumb. "And, if that's what you thought then why did you stop?" Your voice caught, and your words came out unsteady. "I was going to give myself to you." You were shaking in his arms.
Sam stroked your hair, touching you like you were precious. It made you cry even more. His voice was steady and soothing. "Shhh. That's why I couldn't do it. You should only give yourself to someone you love as much as I love you. Anything less than that isn't the way it should be for you. It isn't what I want for you." He placed a single kiss on top of your head.
You lay your hand on his chest where you had shoved him earlier, so close to his heart. "Sam, I do love you."
SAM'S POV
Your touch was light, and your hand felt tiny on my chest. I held you tighter, processing what you'd just said. After a few seconds, I pulled back from you far enough to see your face. The truth was in your eyes; I could see it. You do love me.
I knew this kiss was important. We would remember it for the rest of our lives, talk about it in the middle of the night when we settled back into bed after one of us got up to take care of our baby. I barely touched your lips with mine at first, but it wasn't long before everything I felt for you that I'd kept bottled up inside came out in that kiss. My hands were holding your face, and I slid one of them into your hair. You felt so warm and willing. My body was responding to you, hardening again.
Your hand rubbed down my side grabbing the bottom of my t-shirt. You started to pull it up. I broke the kiss long enough to take it off, then my mouth was back on yours. I felt your hands on my back, and I wanted to feel your skin. I rested my cheek against yours, slowly easing my hand back under your shirt where it had been before. I whispered to you "Is this okay?" I kept my hand still, waiting for your answer.
I felt you tremble. "My body isn't what you're used to, Sam."
I brushed my fingertips across your stomach looking for any sign that you didn't want me to. "You're perfect, Y/N. I'm going to show you just how beautiful you are." I felt your head nod against mine, so I moved my hand up a little higher and cupped your breast. You sucked in a breath and let it out in a tiny gasp. I kneaded gently, moving my thumb back and forth across your nipple until it was hard. You arched your back, rolled your hips, and let out the sweetest, softest moan I could have ever imagined. The way you sound is beautiful. I did the same with your other breast, kissing your neck while I touched you.
All your little moans and noises had me totally hard and throbbing for you. I moved my hand back down your stomach and under the waistband of your panties. You whimpered when I slid my finger between your folds, and you were so wet your juices were running over my hand. Avoiding your clit for now, I put one finger inside you and your moans got louder. "Sam."
I moved that finger in and out, establishing a rhythm. "I've got you, Y/N." You were tight around just my finger, and my dick twitched. I added another finger, taking all the time you needed to stretch you and get you ready for me. I held you close while I pumped them into you. When you were writhing against me, I touched my thumb to your clit and started making little circles. Then I changed the motion, dragging my thumb over your clit in time with my fingers moving in and out of you. When I thought you were ready, I added a third. You clenched around my fingers and tightened your hold on my shoulders. The feel of your hands clutching me like that made me moan, imagining what you would do once I was inside you.
I went back to making circles, faster this time. "Let go, Y/N, let go." You came on my fingers, your nails digging into my shoulder. I worked you through your orgasm then put both of my arms around you. You were panting. I kissed you,taking those little breaths into me. I could still feel you shaking in my arms. "I love you, Y/N. I love you."
I held you until you stilled in my arms and were calm again. You shifted, sitting back and looking at my chest. You reached out and touched me gingerly. "I'm sorry I pushed you off me the way I did." You leaned down kissing the places on my chest where your hands had pushed against me.
When you sat back, I put my hand under your chin tilting your face up. "Let me see you, Y/N." You only hesitated a second before you lifted your shirt over your head and put it down beside you. I think I held my breath when you reached to take off your panties. You are beautiful. Your body is all feminine, soft curves I want to kiss and caress. Seeing you makes me harder. The tip of my cock is leaking; I feel it. You lift your hips and slide your panties down your legs.
My mouth drops open, and I Iick my lips pulling the bottom one into my mouth. I can see the uncertainty on your face. "Do you trust me, Y/N?"
You close the distance between us and lay your head on my chest. "Yes." It may only be one word, but it's exactly what I need.
I put my arms around you, my hands on the bare skin of your back, and I lower you gently to the bed. "I'll make this good for you; I promise." I take your earlobe into my mouth sucking lightly. "You are beautiful, Y/N, and sexy. Do you know how much I want you?" I push my pelvis against you, so you can feel my erection. "That's because of you. It's for you." I move my mouth down the side of your neck, kissing you the entire way. Your skin is sweet; it occurred to me then that I'll fall asleep tonight with the taste of you on my tongue.
I kiss my way across your shoulder. Then I lift my head to put my mouth on your breast. I start by kissing a soft circle around the edge then move to the center to flick my tongue over your nipple. My lips close around you and start to suck. A groan escapes from my throat, deep and full of need. I'm so hard for you now that I don't know how much longer I can take this, but I will.
I move my mouth to your other breast, careful of my teeth. Tonight I'm making love to you slowly, gently, and completely. I want you to forget that I've ever been with anyone but you. I want you to understand who you are to me and never again feel the need to compare yourself to another woman. I swirl my tongue around and over your nub until it stands up firm in my mouth, my fingers rolling your other nipple still moist from my mouth keeping it just as tight.
You're squirming under me. I lick down the center of your stomach right to your core, and you open your legs for me. I put my hands on your hips to hold you still. You are so wet my face is covered in your slick as soon as my tongue touches you, and I drink in everything you give me. My tongue is flattened against your clit. I’m stroking it slow, teasing before moving down to push my tongue inside you. I thrust it as deep as I can go. Your voice is pleading with me. "Sam. Sam." I go back to your clit, pointing my tongue and moving over it as fast as I can. You're fisting the sheets.
"Put your hands in my hair, Y/N. Hold me where you want me." You did exactly what I said and pulled my hair hard. That turned me on even more. You were close to coming again. Your thighs were shaking. I put two fingers inside you and crooked them rubbing your g-spot until you fell apart. I kissed your stomach softly while you came down from your orgasm, keeping my fingers inside you. "You are beautiful, Y/N. Absolutely perfect."
Your expression is gentle and a little blissed out from the two orgasms, but your words are clear and certain. "Sam, I want all of you. I want you to come inside me. Give me what I gave to you." I kissed you one more time just below your belly button then stood up long enough to take off my pants. Naked, I crawled back up your body and propped myself on my forearm so I could brush your hair off your cheek. It amazes me that every part of you is just so soft.
My face was just inches from yours. I was memorizing the way you looked right now. "Are you sure?" Your eyes were filled with everything I'd ever wanted to see there. Love. Trust. Desire.
"Yes." You lay your hand on my cheek. “I’m completely sure.”
I couldn't take my eyes away from yours as I lined myself up with your opening. I wanted to see the look on your face when I entered you for the first time.
READER'S POV
You felt the end of Sam's shaft touch you. The way he was looking at you made you feel wanted and, yes, beautiful. You felt the stretch as he pushed inside. He stopped with just the tip, letting you get used to his size. Your eyes closed and fluttered back open. "I love you, Sam." He slid in another inch.
"I love you too, Y/N.” He went deeper, inch by inch, until he was all the way inside you. He started to move, and you grabbed onto his shoulders. His thrusts were so deep they were hitting your cervix. Your walls tightened around him. Nothing had ever felt so good, so right. He moved faster then slowed down. "I don't know how much longer I can last, Y/N. I'm so close."
Through all your pants and moans you managed to say, "You don't need to. Just love me. Don't hold back."
He pumped into you deep and fast. You felt him throb releasing his seed into you. "Sam!" You scratched down his back. "I'm coming again. Sam." You squeezed your eyes shut tight. Everything went black. Then you felt him rolling over, bringing you with him so that your body was part way on his, and he was cradling you against him.
You lay with your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat for a long time. Finally, it slowed back down to its normal rate. Sam was combing his fingers through your hair. "Can you forgive me, Y/N? All those nights I wasn't here, I should have been."
You snuggled closer into him. "You didn't owe me anything, Sam. There's nothing to forgive. Just don't ever do it again. Let me be enough. I want to be enough for you."
Summary: Sometimes Sam needs to be reminded he needs more than books.
Characters: Sam x Reader
Word Count: 2145
A/N: I couldn’t find this one on my blog when I made my Masterlist so I’m reposting it now. There’s so much dirty talk and a slightly dom reader with a happy to switch Sam.
Sam’s discipline is a part of who he is. He keeps everything locked down. He eats clean. Sugar, preservatives, and “bad” fats never cross his ever so tempting lips. He monitors his thoughts and feelings, careful not to let too much out. It’s easy to miss this because Sam is so good at getting other people to talk with his deep, gentle voice and soft eyes. Sam understands; the very way he carries himself points to that. Pain is something the man you love is all too familiar with and has been since he came back from hell all those years ago.
Sam’s holding something inside tonight. He’s noticeably quieter than usual. His reflective mind was one of the things that drew you to him in the first place, but sometimes it’s necessary to pull Sam out of his thoughts, unlock his emotions, shatter his control.
The salad you made for him has barely been touched. All Sam’s attention is on a thick lore book lying open on the table next to his plate. His long, slender yet thick fingers are slowly turning pages. Something is driving Sam tonight, something he thinks he needs to find in that book, but it can wait.
You stand and walk around the table. Sam’s solid forearms are visible below the rolled cuffs of his flannel. You rest your hand on one of them just above his wrist and skim your fingers up his arm to his shoulder. Sam looks up. His eyes are a cloudy gray kissed by blue. His hair is hanging over his collar, tempting you to touch, and that’s the next place your hand goes.
Sam closes his eyes when your fingers start to knead the back of his neck. Your hand is beneath his hair now, and it’s soft on your knuckles. A half exhale, half moan escapes from him; it’s an invitation to kiss him while you continue to massage his neck.
Sam’s mouth opens under yours, and you know you were right about what he needs. You settle yourself in his lap and deepen the kiss. His tongue is warm and sure as it swirls around yours. You can feel Sam’s hand at the back of your waist drawing you to him. You grind your hips into his lap and another moan, deeper this time, flows from his mouth into yours.
“Sam, I think we’d be more comfortable in the bedroom.” His eyes are darker when he opens them, pupils blown with need. He only glances at the open book and the remains of his salad on the table for a second before he nods to you.
Sam’s hand is at your waist as he guides you into his bedroom. There’s no slamming doors, no ripping off clothes. His actions are still controlled. It’s Sam Winchester’s way to survive.
Very soon he’s going to remember he gets to have his own life and doesn’t have to focus on saving the world every waking moment; it’s time to let go. You put your hand on Sam’s stomach and push him back against the wall. Even through his layers, you can feel the muscles there. You swipe your tongue around your top lip and bite the bottom one. It’s an easy slide underneath his shirt to feel the skin on his abdomen. “Are you this hard everywhere, Sam, or do I still have some work to do?”
He squeezes his eyes shut briefly before opening them to look at you. His chest is heaving slowly. You know what your words do to him. The smile that crosses your face is playful and easy. “Why don’t I find out?”
You sink to your knees in front of him and make a point of taking your time with his belt and zipper continuing to push just the right buttons while you do. “I want you hard for me, Sam. So hard your thick cock is twitching, aching to pound into me. And I’m going to take all of you. I’m going to make you fit, and I’m going to be so tight around you. I love it when you’re as deep as you can get. That sweet pressure feels so good. I want that, Sam.”
When you pulled his jeans and boxers down his thighs, Sam was fully hard. He was hard and leaking precum in a steady flow. “Can I have a taste before you sink this huge cock inside me?” Sam grunted his reply, put his hands in your hair, and pulled you to him.
That first taste of Sam was always the best, salty nectar on your tongue. You made circles around his tip and listened to him gasp. His fingers tightened in your hair until it started to pull. “Fuck, Y/N.”
You started to bob your head on his shaft. “Maybe I’ll just do this for awhile. Edge you until you have tears in your eyes, and you’re begging me for it.”
Sam’s cock throbbed in your mouth. “You’d like that wouldn’t you, Sam? Desperate for me to let you come.”
He was clenching his jaw now and grabbing your hair. “Y/N.”
You pulled your mouth from him with a deliciously wet and dirty sound then rose to your full height, so your face was close to his when you looked in his eyes and whispered. “What do you want, my love?” You skimmed your knuckles down Sam’s jaw and over the hint of a beard that was beginning to grow there. The only thing you could hear was Sam breathing shallow and fast.
In the next second, he circled your wrist with his massive hand and pulled you against him. “You know what I want.” Sam kissed you hard and deep. He stripped your shirt over your head and threw it to the floor, cupped one of your breasts and started to flick your nipple with his thumb through the fabric of your bra.
You arched back to give him better access. “That’s it, baby, make me hot for it. Make me wet for you.” With a groan, Sam started to suck your neck beneath your ear. It was going to leave a mark, and that’s exactly what you wanted.
“Mmm, Sam. You’re making me clench around nothing.” You dug your fingers into his back as your body tightened again around the emptiness.
Sam moved his mouth from your neck and placed it by your ear while his hand eased inside your panties, and his fingers found your clit. “Tell me what you want. Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”
His fingers teased you, and you whimpered. He circled your clit and moved them through your folds, but he didn’t push them inside you. There was no relief for the growing ache you had to be filled. “Fuck me. With your fingers, your tongue, your cock. Do it, Sam.”
He pulled his fingers away from your core and lifted them to your mouth. Sam brushed your wetness across your lips. Then he put his fingers in his own mouth and sucked them clean. He closed his eyes while he did it, and when he opened them again; you saw a distinct hunger there. “I want more of you.”
Sam lifted you from the floor, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you to the bed, kissing you passionately while he did. You felt the mattress, solid beneath your back, when he put you down. It was grounding when the sight of Sam before you threatened to make you forget how to breathe. He took off his shirt and let it drop to the bed beside him.
You had only a second or two to appreciate his lean and muscled body before he peeled off your yoga pants and underwear, spread your legs wide, and began to take what he’d started to the next level. Sam’s hands were on your thighs, keeping them open, while his tongue lapped at your clit. He moved his mouth down to your opening and let his tongue slide in. At first, it was like a kiss. He moved his tongue slowly, in circles, tasting you. Your hands grabbed at his hair. “More, Sam. Please, more.” He started quick shallow thrusts with his tongue, and your clit started to ache. “Touch me. I need you to touch me.”
You arched your back when his fingers found your clit, and his tongue plunged deeper. The faster he moved his fingers, his tongue found the rhythm to match. Just when you were right on the edge of your orgasm snapping and washing through your body, he switched. Sam put his long, thick fingers inside you, curled them to find your g spot, and he started to rub it. His lips latched onto your clit, and he sucked until you came so hard you screamed loud enough for everyone in the bunker to hear.
Sam moved up your body to prop himself over you on his forearms. You grabbed at his shoulders and held on, needing to feel him. “That’s my girl.” He placed soft kisses on your cheek by your ear while you caught your breath. “I’m not done with you. I’m going to make you shake again. Harder next time.”
Sam’s lips were on yours, and he was kissing you right back into wanting him again even though your body still hadn’t recovered from the first orgasm. He kissed down the center of your body until his head was between your breasts and stopped long enough to remove your bra so he could give your nipples some attention.
The same way his mouth had worked over your clit and inside you, he did the same with your nipples. At first the kisses were slow, his tongue circling around and over each bud. Your moans came faster this time and when they were steadily falling from your mouth, Sam sank his middle and ring fingers deep inside you and started to pump them. True to his word, Sam gave you a second orgasm even more powerful than the first.
Sam was on his side next to you now, he rubbed his nose against your neck and let your hair cover his face. His erection was pressing into you. You pushed his shoulder, rolling him onto his back. “It’s my turn now. I think I promised to make you cry.” You stroked Sam’s length until the precum was running down his shaft.
Sam was fairly quiet in bed, until he was really turned on. The grunts he was making told you he was losing his control. “I want you inside me, Sam. I want you to fill me, stretch me, make me take every single bit of you. Give it to me so hard and deep I don’t know if I can take anymore. Don’t show me any mercy, Sam. None.”
His cock lay hard and leaking against his stomach. You guided him to your entrance and lowered yourself onto him slowly, one inch at a time. Sam’s hands were grabbing at the sheets, making fists, and pulling them from the bed. “You’re mine, aren’t you, Sam? I’m the one who gets to make you feel good.” He was all the way inside you now.
You started to ride him, moving your hips in a slow undulating motion. “Y/N.” He grabbed your hips and started to lift you. Up and down, he moved your body faster on his cock. You bounced on his length and took your breasts in your hands, giving him quite the show. Sam’s neck and cheeks flushed pink just before he came hot inside you.
You collapsed on top of him, and Sam wrapped his arms around your back. After a few minutes of holding you, he started to glide his fingertips up and down your back. “You didn’t make me cry. Change your mind?”
You raised up and kissed his nose. “I decided to go easy on you.” You pulled at his bottom lip with your finger. “There’s always next time.” You kissed him, lingering and soft.”
Sam ran his fingers through your hair. “You always know what I need, Y/N.”
“I hope so.” You lowered your head. “It isn’t always books, Sam. You deserve more than that.”
“It’s been hard for me to get used to that, you know?” You lifted your head, and Sam brushed the hair from your face. “It still seems too good to be true. I know we don’t have a picket fence, but this is more than I ever thought I’d have.” Sam stopped talking and took your hand in his, then he brought it to his mouth and kissed it.” You understand me. Thank you.”
You kissed his cheek in response. “There’s still so much more I want to give you, Sam.” This man deserved everything.
Summary: Sam turns to Crowley for help in getting rid of the Mark of Cain. The reader takes over the situation which does and doesn’t surprise Sam.
Characters: Sam x Reader; Crowley
Word Count: 1027
A/N: I am so thankful for every reader I have. Recently, @the-departed-potato made a comment on one of my fics that touched me so much I messaged to ask if I could write a fic to say thank you. Here’s the result of that request.
It wasn’t often the King of Hell was allowed into the sanctuary of the bunker. Even more rare, were the times Sam called on Crowley for help. He was desperate to get the Mark of Cain off his brother, and Crowley seemed like his best option. If the King of Hell didn’t know about all things malevolent, who would?
“I do indeed have information that might be useful to you, Moose.” Crowley swirled the very aged and very expensive scotch in his glass with a slight twist of his hand. Sam had dipped into Dean’s private stash for that, but anything that might bribe or persuade Crowley to be helpful was worth Dean’s wrath when he found out, even the kind of rage he possessed now with the Mark of Cain on his arm.
That was the reason Sam had gone against every instinct he had and allowed Crowley into the bunker. He was desperate to get that mark off his brother, desperate enough to turn to the enemy for help, and it was clear Crowley was enjoying every minute of it. He focused his eyes on Sam, his gaze was penetrating and purposeful. “What would you be willing to do for my help?”
To this point, you had been sitting quietly in a chair listening to the exchange. You were done being quiet. “Stop playing your games, Crowley. Sam isn’t doing anything for you.”
The expressions on the faces of the two men as they watched you stand and walk over to crowd in Crowley’s space were a study in contrasts. Crowley watched you with a challenging curiosity. Sam’s eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in concern. Meanwhile, you didn’t miss a beat with your verbal assault on the King of Hell.
“You’re lucky Sam hasn’t killed you long before now because he absolutely could. And you have the nerve to come waltzing in here acting like you’re doing him a favor. All you do is stall when every day Dean is getting worse.” Crowley nonchalantly took a sip of his whiskey, and you felt your blood pressure rise.
You felt Sam’s familiar hand touch your shoulder. “Honey, maybe you should….”
You turned to face him, your eyes flashing with a clear intent, your voice quiet but strong. “Sit.”
Sam let go of you and took a couple of steps back. He ran his hand through his hair and let it rest on the back of his neck. His tongue circled the inside of his mouth from his cheek to his lower lip. “Yep.” Sam knew when to surrender to your will. He took the few steps to the leather chair by the bookcase and sat down.
Crowley smiled at you, clearly pleased by your performance. “Well, aren’t you the fiery one? Should you ever get tired of the Moose, please do give me a call.” Your only response was to glare at him.
He drained the rest of the scotch from his glass and put it down on the table. “Well then.” He raised his eyebrows and adjusted his jacket, then the King of Hell rose and with a nod in your direction said, “There’s a shaman in New Mexico I need to see.” He snapped his fingers and was gone.
You braced both your hands on the table and took a minute to steady your breathing. Staring down the King of Hell could be overwhelming when you paused to think about what you’d done, but it was something you wouldn’t hesitate to do again. You’d do it for Dean, and that meant doing it for Sam too. Anything that hurt his brother, hurt him.
Sam spoke from the corner where you’d sent him when your adrenaline was flowing. “Maybe it should have been you dealing with Crowley all this time.”
You went to him, needing the reassurance of his closeness now that the heat of the moment had passed. Sam reached up, silently asking you to put your hand in his. You gave him your hand, and he pulled you down into his lap. He dragged the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip. “You’re amazing. You know that?”
You smiled and shook your head. “Either that or stupid.”
Sam returned your smile. “Well, that was the King of Hell.” His dimples deepened as his smile got bigger. “Should I be jealous of him by the way?”
You laughed and settled your arms around Sam’s neck. “Not hardly. Crowley has a thing for Dean. That’s why he’ll talk to that shaman and anybody else he can think of to get rid of that mark. He’d love it if Dean went dark for good, but Crowley’s not stupid. He knows Dean would destroy himself before he let that happen. So, the King of Hell is going to do whatever he can to save Dean. He just needed an excuse to do it. I gave him one.”
Sam moved his head closer to yours. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin as he spoke. “You’re smart too. Do you know how sexy that is?” You noticed the deep gray green of his eyes before they closed and his lips touched yours, soft at first before his tongue tangled around yours with an intensity born out of relief and passion.
Sam broke the kiss and stood, lifting you in his arms as he did. His eyes had darkened even more, and they were locked on yours. He ran his tongue out over his lip and pulled it back into his mouth. “How ‘bout I show you just how sexy it is?”
His smoldering look quickly turned adorable, and his tone was playful. “Unless you want me to sit down again.”
“Sam Winchester, don’t try me. I’ll make it so you can’t sit down at all,” you challenged.
He leaned in, took your earlobe between his teeth, and nibbled on it before he whispered in your ear. “Is that a promise, baby?”
Sam carried you to his bedroom where, for a little while, you both forgot about the Mark of Cain and the threat it posed. Many promises were made and kept. Repeatedly.
Summary: The Reader shows Sam how happy she is to have him back from the AU world.
Characters: Sam x Reader; Rowena mentioned
Word Count: 965
A/N: Found in my archives.
You took the glass of whiskey Sam was holding from his hand and drank a long sip. He watched you lift the glass to your lips, swallow, then set it down on the table. You reached up to drape your arms around his neck. The bunker library was full of people. Sam and Dean had brought back a number of rebels from alternate earth. The mood in the room was almost light and hopeful compared to others you had known.
It was time to grasp onto that while you could. You began to slide your tongue over your lips suggestively while you looked up at Sam. “Did I just see Rowena flirting with you?” He dropped his head and smiled, dimples showing. You ran your index finger down the center of his chest. “I think I may need to remind you exactly who you belong to.”
You grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled his mouth down to yours kissing him with firm pulls of your lips on his. When you let go of his shirt, he pulled away and opened his eyes slowly. “Take me to bed, Sam.” He nodded, eyes roaming over your face and lingering on your lips. You put your hand in his, and he led the way to his bedroom.
As soon as the door closed, you were reaching for the bottom of his shirt and pulling it up his stomach. Sam took hold of the hem and practically ripped it off over his head. You ran your hands over the muscles of his chest and shoulders. His mouth crashed into yours, and he fisted his hand into your hair while he dipped his tongue into your mouth. Your tongue danced over his, the taste of whiskey still strong in his mouth.
Sam spun you around and backed you toward the bed. When your legs hit the mattress, you sank down on it. Taking hold of the hem of your own shirt, you peeled it off over your head and reached behind your back to unhook your bra. You slipped the straps down your arms and dropped it on the bed.
Sam’s eyes were fixed on you, his pupils blown with lust. He took off his shoes and socks then stripped out of his jeans and boxers allowing his erection to spring free, standing long and thick in front of his stomach. He lowered himself over you, kissing your neck and sucking your earlobe into his mouth. His hand began to knead your breast, and his fingers tweaked your nipple. Sam kissed his way down to your other breast while his hand continued working your nipple.
You moaned, and he kissed you again to take your sounds into his mouth. Then, you kissed the corner of his mouth. “My turn. You belong to me. Remember?” You pushed against his chest guiding him onto his back. You stood and shimmied out of your jeans giving Sam a show. You pulled your lace panties down your legs slowly then tossed them onto Sam’s chest. It was rising and falling heavily now.
Pre come was leaking from the tip of his cock, and you swiped your finger across his tip and brought it to your mouth. He watched you, his breaths coming deeper and faster now, as you sucked your finger into your mouth dragging it out a little at a time. You braced your hands on his chest and lowered yourself onto him, mouth right next to his ear. “How much do you want me, Sam.”
The sound he made was so primal he almost growled. “I want you so bad.” Your response was to take his cock in your hand and give it a few sure strokes. Sam grunted even more deeply. “Please, Y/N.” You smiled at him and slowly traced patterns over his chest with your fingertip, listening to his breath catch in his throat.
Finally, you placed the tip of his shaft at your entrance and sank down on it. Sam lifted his hips and thrust up into you. Draping your arms around his neck, you bent over to kiss him while he moved inside you.
His thrusts were deep, and his tongue moved fast. Every time Sam rocked his pelvis into you, the motion moved straight across your clit. You cried his name into the kiss when you came. He rode you through it and kept moving. Soon you were chasing another orgasm. This time when your walls clenched around him, it pushed Sam over the edge.
His hands relaxed their hold on your waist, and your kiss slowed into something soft and tender. Sam pushed your hair back from your face saying “I love you” between kisses. He grew soft inside you before you moved off of him. His arms stayed wrapped around you as you lay down beside him and put your head on his shoulder.
Sam laced his fingers through yours and brought your hand to his mouth, placing a light kiss on your knuckles. You smiled against his neck before kissing him right below his ear. “It was so hard waiting for you Sam, not knowing. Once Lucifer escaped, I was scared for you, more scared than I had been since the first second I watched you walk through that tear of light into another whole universe so far away from me.”
Sam shifted, propping himself on his arm to lean over you. His smile was brilliant and pure with hope. “I’m here, baby. I’m with you, and I left him there, Y/N. I faced him, and I trapped him there.”
You cupped his check in your hand. “You make me so proud of you. Over and over you do. I’ve never known anyone more brave. I love you, Sam Winchester.”
Square Filled: Artist AU for @spnfluffbingo & Angst to Fluff for @spngenrebingo
Characters: artist!Sam x Reader
Rating: M
Word Count: 1863
Created for @spnfluffbingo & @spngenrebingo
The opening was a smashing success. It was what Sam had been working for a long time, and you couldn’t be more proud of him. He had sold five paintings tonight, and the gallery owner was already talking about a second show. You poured two glasses of wine and handed one to your tall handsome boyfriend.
Sam was unusually quiet, especially after such an extraordinary night that had made one of his dreams a reality, and it prompted you to ask him, “What is going on in that brilliant mind of yours, handsome?”
He took a sip of his wine and put it down on the concrete counter. “Everything’s going to change. Maybe.”
You put your arms on his shoulders and let them loosely rest there, your wrists crossed behind his neck. “You deserve this, babe. Why do you sound so worried?”
Sam looked down at you; his eyes were clouded a dark gray, and he quietly studied your face for a few seconds. “What if I can’t do it?” He reached up and wrapped his hand around your forearm by his neck, holding it. You knew what he was doing; he needed the contact. It meant he was feeling at loose ends. “This doesn’t exactly seem real.”
You moved your arms from either side of his neck and lowered them to your sides. As you did, Sam let go of your arm. You took his now idle hand into yours. “Tell me, baby. Tell me what you’re feeling.”
He sat down on one of the barstools by the counter, never letting go of your hand. “Every night, I came home from working in an office that made me feel like it was sucking my soul away, and I’d paint. Everything inside me that I wanted to get out, I’d put on the canvas.” You sat down on the empty barstool beside him and squeezed his hand to urge him to keep going.
Sam sighed. “Then it happens. Finally, a gallery is interested in my work.” You remembered how excited Sam had been when that happened. It had only been two paintings at first, and they hadn’t sold immediately, but they had sold. That was the beginning. It was followed by the sale of more paintings and eventually culminated in the show tonight that was all Sam.
He looked troubled, and you could feel it. His doubt was real, and it was keeping him from fully enjoying his accomplishment, a success Sam deserved. “Y/N, I haven’t painted anything in a week.” You sat in silence, processing what he’d said. Sam took a big sip of his wine. “I haven’t even picked up a brush.”
You understood. It had been the same way with your business. When you were reading tarot cards for your friends, it was fun. Then you’d started posting videos on social media about the meaning of the cards; it led to offering free readings online, which ultimately led to paying clients. Now you were a full fledged intuitive life coach, and the cards were one of the tools you used. It was one of the ironies of life that finding success doing what you loved could freak you out and shut you down.
Sam was still talking. At least, he had opened up to you now. “What if that’s the best I have in me, and I did it? One show. What if that’s all there is?” He ran his free hand through his hair. “I’m scared to pick up a paint brush, Y/N. What if the whole thing was a fluke? What if I start another painting and it’s just this mediocre thing that no one likes? What if it doesn’t speak to them, doesn’t touch them, doesn’t make them feel anything? What if no one wants to see my work, no one cares about it?”
You brushed your thumb lightly over the scruff of beard next to Sam’s mouth and then traced up his jawline, an idea forming in your mind. “Go change into something comfortable, something you’d wear when you paint.” He didn’t question you, just got up and went toward the bedroom area of the loft. That was one thing that made your relationship strong. The trust between you was solid.
While Sam changed, you did too...in a manner of speaking. You took off all your clothes and lay down on the sofa, pulling the throw from the back of it to cover yourself. You positioned yourself in a seductive pose and waited for him. When Sam reappeared, he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a deep V; his feet were bare.
His eyebrows raised slightly when he saw you. You swiped your tongue out over your bottom lip and pulled it back into your mouth, dragging your teeth across that lip behind it. You waited a beat before announcing, “Hi, Sam. I’m your muse.”
“Y/N...I...uh…” Sam’s eyes were riveted on you.
You shifted and rolled a shoulder, holding the throw to your bare breasts. “Go get the easel, bring it over here, and put a blank canvas on it.” Sam’s mouth was slightly parted, then he swallowed looking at your cleavage peeking out over the throw. You nodded to him. “Go on. Get it.”
Sam followed directions very well, especially when he was feeling lost. He had told you more than once that you anchored him, and that’s exactly what you were going to do for him right now. He came back carrying the easel and a medium sized canvas, set them up along with some paints, brushes and his palette, then waited for further instructions from you.
Instead of saying anything, you dropped the throw to the floor. Sam’s eyes traveled down the length of your body, following your curves, and back to your face. “Wh...what are you doing, Y/N?”
You draped yourself over the couch the way you’d seen artist’s models do in movies. “You’re going to paint.”
“I don’t do figure painting; you know that.” His mouth hung open before he found the words. “I can’t paint you. I could never make you look…”
You combed your fingers through your hair. “You’re not going to paint ME.” Sam’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “You’re going to paint for the next hour whatever it’s in your soul to paint, and when that hour has passed I’ll be here waiting for you.” You winked at him just in case he hadn’t caught your meaning, but the way he pushed his palm against his crotch told you that he knew exactly what you meant.
Sam gathered his paints and the brushes he wanted to use. He squeezed some paint onto his palette, then dipped the brush into a cerulean blue and swiped it across the canvas in a broad stroke. He glanced at you every so often as though he were actually painting you then directed his intense focus back to the canvas.
You stretched your arms over your head, ran your fingertips over your decolletage, and started at him seductively providing inspiration and motivation for whatever it was Sam had started to create. Sam didn’t notice when you subtlety checked the time on your phone. He was immersed in the painting. His intensity when he was in the process of creation this way was a kind of sexy that was ethereal and earthy. You quietly put down the phone so you could watch him and marvel at the man who had agreed to be yours and possessed a kind of talent that was rare, a talent to be treasured, and a talent he wasn’t fully aware of.
His hair moved with the strokes of the brush, falling over his forehead and he tossed it out of his eyes with a shake of his head; he had broken past the barrier of his earlier creative block. He was into the work now. You smiled, and like he could feel it; Sam turned to look at you. He smiled back, dimples framing his mouth. The worry and uncertainty was gone. He put down the brush, walked to you, and reached for your hand. You lifted your hand up to him, inviting him down to the couch with you. Sam took your hand, and you pulled him down on top of you. Your lips met, and the passion was instantly ignited.
His tongue tangled with yours, his firm body pressed against you, and you felt him grow hard through the denim he was still wearing. You could feel Sam’s muscles through the cotton of his t-shirt while his tongue delved deeper into your mouth. You grasped at the back of his shirt to pull it up so you could feel his skin warm beneath your touch. “Sam, take your clothes off; I’ve been waiting for you.”
He peeled off his t-shirt, then went for his belt buckle. In seconds, he was naked and gorgeous before you. If you could paint, you would want to paint him. You’d want to capture the strength of his shoulders and the way his muscles gave form to his arms, gracefully curving to shape powerful biceps. You’d want to give life to the light in his green, gray, and golden hazel eyes. Most of all, you’d want to show just how his hopeful smile could inspire joy in anyone who saw it.
The most beautiful man you could have ever imagined made love to you there on that couch where you had patiently waited for him to reconnect with his confidence and tap back into his talent that sprang from the well of experience inside him that fueled everything he created. He gave you his passion and his tenderness. He worshipped you with his body and his words.
In the afterglow of your joining, you lay in his arms with your head on his chest listening to the beat of his heart. Sam’s fingers were entwined in your hair, and the contentment you both were feeling was palpable. “What did you paint?”
He nuzzled his nose into your hair and inhaled you deeply before he answered. “The ocean, at night under the full moon, with the waves rolling onto the sand. It’s a balance of turbulence and peace.”
You rested your chin in the center of his chest and drew curling lines on his pec. “I’d like to see it, but I don’t want to move.”
Sam slid his hands down to your hips and pulled you up so he could kiss you again. Even after being completely sated, he could still make you breathless. It was your turn to play with his hair and run your fingers through it. “I’ll show you tomorrow. It’ll be waiting for your appraisal.” Sam smiled. “I can’t let you go right now. This feels too good.”
He located the comforter with one hand and pulled it over you. You were snuggled in a warm cocoon between the blanket and his body; it made your eyelids heavy. Sam whispered in your ear as you were falling asleep, “Promise me you’ll always be my muse.”
As you drifted off, in the warmth of his embrace, you answered, “I will.”
