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That drunk reader drabble was so yummyyy, what abt soulless sam carrying reader to the motel or whatever after just to fuck her.
he probably struggles a bit to get you to warm up to him after his shenanigans i think.
when he tries to wipe your face from dirt, you push him and kick him like a drunken sailor. “stop it.” he exhales, crouching in front of you with a towel. you shake your head, leaning back and scrunch up your face. “told you m’fine. wanna go to bed.” you murmur. it sounds like you have marble mouth, saliva seeping out of the glands.
“no, stop being a baby.” sam pulls you back from behind your neck, face to face again so he can look at you. your eyes are glassy, somewhat drunk and somewhat upset. “sweetheart. i’m sorry for making you trip, okay?” he brushes his thumb against your jawline. you keen. “stop it, stop it,” you turn away, kicking your feet at him. “y-you made me fall. got me drunk and made me fall, and- and it wasn’t nice.”
he kind of laughs at you when you speak. every slurred, angry word makes the corner of his lips turn up. you frown deeply.
“i’m trying to make it up to you. you don’t want me to make it up to you?”
“no.”
“no?” sam puts the towel down. “sweetheart, be serious. you’re acting like a child.” you shrug and look down into your lap. “i’m not. i’m mad at you.”
“then let me make it up to you.” he thumbs at your skin again, smiling innocently. you look up and scrunch your face. “..you’re not gonna be mean again?” he shakes his head. “no, baby. i promise.”
that fucking liar.
you’re not sure why you trusted him, but you can only blame it on the alcohol. or the fact that he’s got your face pushed into the cold floor, ass pulling back into his pelvis. he stretches you open ruthlessly, no prep except for a few fleeting touches of his fingers. his body, all broad shoulders and muscle towering over you as he fucks you into the tile.
you groan and grasp, feet arching and a strangled cry escaping your throat when his fingers curl into your hair with such force it pulls you up and drops you down with every thrust.
“making it up to you,” he grunts, leaning over and kissing the side of your head. you whimper softly, leaning into him. “gonna make it up to you. make you piss out all that alcohol, sweetheart. think you can squirt f’me tonight?” you nod.
he adjusts, sliding his hand under your body and pressing the heel at your stomach. you squirm lightly, feet curling and kicking. he’s so deep already and with his hand on your body it feels 100 times worse. that forces you to curl into yourself, legs trembling and sliding. you can feel it inside you, with every deep thrust of his cock, every slam of his tip against your cervix, you feel it building. it’s not like the pressure or an orgasm where it’s light, sweet, slowly building. it’s like you’ve got something crawling inside you.
sam keens for once, whines at your back and bites your shoulder. he bites hard, not a care for how he’s practically eating your body. he ruts into you like an dog humping someones leg, hunched over animalistically. your cunt tightens around him and you feel the centipede crawling out of you, spurts of white-hot liquid coming out like a fountain.
his eyes roll back, a huff and groan leaving his throat. it vibrates over your sensitive skin. he rubs at your clit while you drench the floors, your clit throbbing with each glide of his fingers. “there you fucking go, spill that shit!” he growls, letting go of your shoulder. he sounds like a completely different person. you’re not sure why it only clicked now that this isn’t sam—your sam.
he cums with a sob. it sounds like him, cute and trembly, but it’s not. he squeezes your hips so tightly his nails leave crescent marks. you feel sick, dizzy from so much movement and bile rising as alcohol threatens to expel. he pulls out and lets you drop.
“see? i made it up to you.” he pants, rolling you over onto your back. your bodies slip around for a moment, squirt covering your skin and the ground below. you hiccup, squinting up at him. “w-what’s wrong with you?” you stammer, sniffling softly. he leans over your body, one hand carefully grabbing your face, cheeks pressed between his fingers. “nothing, baby. you feel better?” he coos, rubbing your skin hypnotically. you blink away the worry. “y-yes. thank you..” sam pecks your lips, smiling with dimples on full display. “good.”
experienced werewolf!bf!dean winchester who is willing and ready to teach his pup how to take big knots and inexperienced puppy!reader who is relying purely on breeding instincts when it comes to a mate because they're too shy.. walk with me here..
"You meet Sam and Dean Winchester on a hot summer afternoon when you’re seven. You don’t know it yet, but they will become the most important part of your life."
WARNINGS
This story is Sam x reader x Dean, as well as Dean x reader and Sam x reader.
Specific warnings can be found on the individual chapters, but here are some general ones I found important to mention ahead of time.
Neglectful parents. Referenced sexual abuse. Polyamory. Heartbreak. Pregnancy & child birth. Explicit sexual content.
A NOTE ON CANON DIVERGENCE
I've taken some big liberties with canon (I hardly know her) that will become apparent while reading, but here is the gist of it:
Mary Campbell makes a deal for her lover's life with a cross-roads demon and is killed by it ten years later. John goes on the hunt for the demon and takes his infant and toddler sons with him. Sam isn't fed demon blood. The brothers aren't the warriors chosen by heaven and hell to fight an apocalyptic battle.
They are just boys, not loved enough or not the right way. Rough around the edges.
They spend their summers at Bobby Singer's house in Sioux Falls. This is where they meet you.
PARTS & CHAPTER OVERVIEW
New chapters on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
PROLOGUE - If only things could be like this forever
PART I masterlist
PART II masterlist
PART III masterlist
PART IV masterlist
PART V masterlist
I want to thank @kblognar for their amazing help with this fic, for getting my head straight when I went down the rabbit hole and for loving the bbys probably nearly as much as I do. I also want to thank @ambiguous-avery @aniresrene @bettystonewell @jollyreads @aseafullofstars, all of who I have yapped at about this and who have been there to support and help! This was two years in the making and I am ready for this baby to see the world.❤️
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SUMMARY : you missed soldier boy as much as he missed you so you pay him a little visit at work, knowing where it would lead.
WARNINGS : established relationship. love. lust. smut. unprotected p in v. sex in public. strong language. pregnant!reader. faithful!soldier boy.
A/N : my first soldier boy oneshot—finally! wasn't planning on this one being first (or it being my 400th post!) but i had a dream about this so here we are 😆 (hated that i woke up.) hope yall enjoy!!
Soldier Boy couldn't wait anymore; You couldn't wait anymore. It had felt like forever since you last saw him, but in reality, it had been a few days. He had been working late, and by the time he got to his floor at the Vought tower, you were already asleep. So, you show up on set to surprise him, having missed him terribly.
He may not have been the best actor, but watching him save the damsel in distress made your panties pool with desire. As if he senses your presence, he looks behind the camera, his eyes instantly finding yours. He really could point you out in a crowd, making you feel like no one else was around. His eyes skim over your dress, and a mischievous smirk plays on his lips. The actress clings to him, her left hand on his chest, eyes big, and her breasts bigger. She doesn't notice you and continues to fawn over the supe; You aren't sure if it's for the scene or if it's real, either way, you aren't worried.
"Cut!" He pushes her away and walks off stage, shouting, "Take five, everyone."
She stumbles back, her brows drawing in confusion before her eyes land on you. From your peripheral vision, you see her face twist in annoyance, confirming that her fondness for Soldier Boy was real. Why wouldn't it be? So, having won a battle you didn't need to fight, you sport a triumphant grin. The director scoffs silently, but you know the supe hears it.
"We were in the middle of a—"
"And now we're not so fuck off."
"Okay," He responds with fright.
His tall figure towers over you, and your smile turns innocent. Even after all this time, your husband still makes you shy in the most thrilling way. He pulls you into his strong arms and, without a care in the world, bestows a passionate kiss upon your soft lips. Though your eyes shut, you're certain everyone averts their gaze out of respect, at least that's what they call fear these days. He didn't care if they watched, not entirely; He wanted everyone to know you were his, and he was yours—as if they didn't already know.
When you part for air, you bump your nose against his, whispering, "I've missed you."
"Not like I've missed you."
Your eyes open as you begin to lean away, and with a smile, your hands reach and carefully take off his helmet. Even with his hair messy, he was still perfect, but you run your fingers through it anyway, adoring the feel of it. He softens at the reason behind why you remove his headgear; You loved Soldier Boy, but you were in love with Ben. That's one of the reasons he married you: you loved the real him, not just his supe persona.
"There's my Ben."
He takes the helmet from you and tosses it at a passerby. You ignore the man juggling the well-known addition to the infamous Soldier Boy suit, knowing that if he dropped it, he'd be dead. He finally catches it and lets out a relieved sigh, speeding to place it down somewhere safe. Ben licks his lips as his eyes not-so-subtly glance at your cleavage. No matter how sweet and caring he can be, he was still a man.
"Who told you you could wear this?"
"You'd rather I came wearing nothing at all?" You tease as your hands snake around his neck. He damn near growls, so you add, "Please, I know my Benny doesn't share."
"That's right. You're all mine," His large hand gropes your ass, and you gasp. You aren't surprised that he did it so naturally and in public, but it still fell from your lips. "I'm the only one who gets to see your gorgeous body. You hear me?"
You stand on your tippy toes, eyes hooded with desire. With a small nod and a desperate voice, you answer, "Yes, sir."
Before you can kiss him, he spins you around so fast you almost don't recognize what's happened. Without another word, he secures his hand at your hip and leads you away from the group. Your heart races with excitement, and you're sure he can hear it slamming around your ribcage. He guides you down a few hallways and then shoves you into a single bathroom. You know what's going to happen, and you can't wait.
Without a second to waste, Soldier Boy lifts the back of your gown, moving layer after layer out of his way. You stick your behind out as you bend over the sink just slightly, giving him easier access. His fingers nearly rip off your underwear, and once they slide below your knees, you spread your legs. You watch him through the mirror just inches in front of your face as he unzips his suit, his eyes never leaving your ass. He bites his lip as he aligns his dick with your entrance before sliding into your drenched pussy.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he pushes against your tight walls, forcing them to conform to his enormous size. No matter how many times you took him, you still weren't used to him. His hands grip your curvy hips as he sets a steady rhythm. Moans fall from your lips as if no one could hear you. After all this time, you were still his cock drunk slut, only now, with a huge rock on your finger.
"You look so fucking hot in this dress." He pushes you further down, one of his hands moving to rest on the top of your shoulder as your fingers grip the porcelain sink.
His tip knocks on your cervix, asking for entrance, and you feel like opening. Tears pool in your eyes as he chases your highs, knowing just how to catch them. He watches your breasts bounce in the mirror, and it isn't enough. His hand reaches around and moves their support, letting your growing chest hop with freedom. Your moans and his grunts fill the small room as your bodies slap together like it was punishment.
He leans into you, pushing your stomach into the cold sink. "C-careful."
Ben almost doesn't hear you, but he mutters a quick apology and lets off some pressure. Your pitch gets higher and shorter, and he knows you're close. His thrusts never get sloppy, but you sure are after he scrambles your brain. Your abdomen contrasts, and you gush on the supe's dick without—verbal—warning. His hips slam against your plump ass, fucking you through a toe-curling high. You cry out, your orgasm overtaking you, so he pushes his off. When you begin to come down, he releases his thick load, spraying it against your gummy walls. You lean against him, your chest rising and falling, and your nipples hard from stimulation.
He holds your gaze in the mirror, his mouth open as he catches his breath; Not that he needed it, his stamina was ready for round 2, but your fragile, V-less body wasn't—yet. Your left hand cups his cheek as he nuzzles into your neck before nibbling on it. His member jerks inside you, and you whimper with both longing and sensitivity. His hand rubs up and down your bare arm, smoothing the goosebumps he brought to your skin.
"Fuck, sweetheart, that was..."
"Mmhmmm." You can't find the words to speak, either, but your face finds the strength to smile contently.
His hand finds its way around your torso, resting on your growing belly. "Sorry, doll. You feel so good that I forget there's a third wheel."
You chuckle, amused by his excuse.
Ben rubs your small bump, inquiring, "How's our little bean?"
"Happy now that you're around."
"Why don't I cut today short, and we can spend the rest of it together?"
Your eyes go wide with hope. "Really?"
"Yeah, I've missed my girl."
He makes you blush, and you can't help but tell him you love him. After he returns your affection, he pulls his semi-erect cock from your flooded cunt. He pulls your panties up, containing your dam. Once he tucks himself back in his pants and you stuff your boobs in your gown, he leads you out of the bathroom. Your legs wobble, and he instantly catches you, having no shame in scooping you off your feet and carrying you to his canvas chair.
Everyone watches as he walks with you effortlessly. Your face goes red because even though you're Soldier Boy's wife, you still hate the attention you receive. Sure, the title should've given you confidence, but you were still shy. Ben gently sets you in his chair, then presses a kiss to your temple. He tells you to stay put, not that you would or could go anywhere.
"All right, you've got an hour." He instructs the director as he walks toward the stage.
Soldier Boy's back faces the balding man, but you see his silent exaggeration. "But—!"
"Shut it, or I'll cut it in half. I'm going to spend time with my beautiful wife, so you're lucky I'm giving you anything."
His line makes you grin. God, how you loved him. Your hand rests on your belly as you watch him act. Despite having the perfect view, no one blocking your path, his co-star pretends you aren't there and throws herself on him like the whore she is. You aren't by any means jealous; he isn't the man he used to be. No, he's a faithful husband who sees no other woman but you, more so that you had the honor of carrying his child.
SOLDIER BOY MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAG LIST
Ok I have to ask because the amount of incest/Daddy stuff OK BACK TO THE POINT, but can I request Soldier Boy x reader smut where basically soldier boy retired or after season 3 explosion is hiding away with reader basically starting a new life. New chapter he wants a baby, and basically use of daddy kink BUT instead of the babygirl stuff he calls reader mommy as a replacement because they wanna be parents.
Anyway love your work, keep slaying, and anyone who read this far and cares for the weird incest things please touch grass a bit, PEACE OUT
mommy dearest ⪩ ⪨ ꠹
pairing : soldier boy x afab!reader
summary : just months after retiring , it seems ben’s new fixation is getting you pregnant. one specific night leads you to discover a new secret kink , one you could get very used to. (takes a little while to get to the actual request, i couldn’t help myself).
warnings : fluff in the first half , smut , mommy / pregnancy kink 💦 , cowgirl , i guess ooc ben , sub!ben , dom!reader , slight embarrassment at one part , dirty talk , kissing , very lazy dialogue because i can't write it , good boy mention.
quick a/n: all requests are in the process of being written, im just a slow writer so it’s taking me a while to get through them all !
When Ben met you a year ago, catching sight of you walking down the busy streets, the first time he saw you he had to take a double glance before saying ‘woah’ out loud like he had saw something unbelievable. Which, in some case, he did. Your beauty was on another level, and your smile could hypnotize anyone who crossed your path. He knew he had to have you, no matter what.
Sure, he didn’t stop pestering you until you gave up, agreeing to a date that ended with the hope of another, but if someone told him he’d retire and hang up his legacy as Soldier Boy to move to a quieter part of the city with that exact same girl he now called the love of his life, he’d have laughed in their face and called them a fucking idiot. Yet that’s exactly what happened, because somewhere in those months of trying to win you over, the lines of love and lust blurred and he found himself desperate for you until you became his.
Right after the events of being stabbed in the back yet again by people he associated himself with, because he’d absolutely not call those fuckers his friends, Soldier Boy disappeared from the face of the earth, so everyone naturally, and gladly, assumed he was dead and never to be seen again. But you knew better, as later that day of the betrayal, you opened your front door and found yourself staring into the eyes of a familiar face. One look at his face told you everything; this wasn’t Soldier Boy, the man who tore through people without second thought, feared by many.
This was Ben; the man who took you on several dates and pulled your chair out for you at restaurants, reenacted that one spaghetti scene from lady and the tramp and made you laugh as he almost pouted when you pulled back before the kiss. The man who wasn’t the monster he was painted out to be by society, who was still just that young boy looking for attention and someone to care for him.
That was the night everything changed for the better, the night that Ben confessed his love for you and begged for you to move away with him, away from the bullshit that you could potentially get tangled up in. He couldn’t have that. He’d been looking for a reason for decades, and finally he had it, so he would do everything in his power to keep you in his arms and never let anything harm you.
The move had gone smoothly, with only a handful of times when Ben would snap at the movers for taking the piss out of him and his time just so they’d move quicker. But, even then, you knew it was a much different approach to how he would’ve handled it all those months ago, when he was only looked at with hate or lust. He was dialling back the emotions he used to be unable to control, just for you.
And you liked loved this rebrand, that now he didn’t look over when someone yelled ‘Soldier Boy’, he’d keep on walking when girls gave him ‘fuck me eyes’ and just rolled his own eyes when they’d whine at his ignorance. It was more authentic than the man that was on TV screens, and you’d gladly never watch TV again because he had been handed to you by the gods and made yours, something you woke up everyday and looked forward to.
Now, with you two settled in a lovely house on the outskirts of the city and Ben’s devotion to you only growing stronger everyday he looked into your eyes, the topic of kids had came up so many times you couldn’t keep count anymore. It seemed every conversation began with something simple, and somewhere in between it would turn into;
"So.. When is it time to have kids?"
"You’d look fuckin’ amazing pregnant."
"Have I ever told you that the house would look better with some little shits runnin’ around?"
And yes, he had told you that the place would apparently look better with kids in it, he just worded it differently every time so you wouldn’t question it as much. But, hey, it worked.
It wasn’t that you were opposed to the idea of having children, especially with someone as pretty, as you’d called him from time to time, as Ben. It was far from it. You were willing to bear his children, birth them and give him the family he’d always wished for, it was just you’d never went through that process, so you were a little hesitant and worried of what would come with the positive pregnancy test when it came to that day.
Yet, not a single one of those thoughts were swimming around your mind when you were straddling Ben’s lap one night, hands tangled in the messy locks of his short hair and tugging lightly, drawing soft groans from his lips that were connected to yours. While your tongues danced around eachother and collected spit from one another, his own hands were gripping your waist for stability as you bounced on his cock, the tip bruising your walls with each bounce.
He couldn't even remember how he ended up beneath you, when he was the one who had pounced on you first, but was he complaining? Absolutely not, not when your pussy was clenching around him in sync with his grunts. He was so pussy-drunk he didn't even realise the words, or rather word, he slurred out as your walls fluttered around his sensitive cock and he drew closer to his peak. "Fuck, mommy, don't stop. 'M so close."
That single word had you frozen, hips stilling and lips pulling away from his, ignoring the string of saliva to focus your attention on him. The sudden stop had him almost whining until he caught himself, and only then did it dawn on him what he said. The realisation made him want to curl in on himself and hide under the sheets, hide from your smirking face and eyes that glistened with something akin to arousal and arrogance.
"Mommy, huh?"
The smugness in your tone lead to his cheeks flushing and eyes darting away from yours, suddenly heavily interested in the wallpaper you had chosen months prior to match the colors of the random shit he bought. "Just hurry up and-" He didn't finish the conjunction before you covered his mouth with one of your hands with a click of your tongue and shake of your head, making his brows furrow and gaze return to yours. When his eyes met yours, he instantly recognized the look you were giving him and he knew exactly what you were waiting for.
With a resigned sigh and smirk that was hidden by your hand over his mouth, he gave a slow roll of his hips. "Please, mommy? Can you keep ridin' me like a pornstar?"
You rolled your eyes at his compliment, knowing he could never say anything without there being a dirty ass innuendo or reference to something sex related. "Good boy." And when you began to roll your hips against his, you wish you had an audio recorder for the sweet moans and murmurs of your name that fell from his lips and floated in the air of the stuffy bedroom. You began picking up the pace when you felt his fingers dig into the meaty flesh of your hips, your own fingers holding onto his shoulders to steady yourself. "Such a good boy for mommy, baby."
Fuck, he now knew how you felt when he called you that, because hearing you refer to yourself as mommy made his face scrunch like he smelt something foul and "fuck" spill from his lips without a breath, giving a lazy thrust upwards before the only thing spilling was his seed inside of your warm cunt. You followed shortly after, his thumb rubbing your clit giving you the final push.
You collapsed ontop of his chest with a tired moan that could be mistaken for a sigh, face buried in the crook of his neck, as you both tried to catch your breath, his hands caressing your waist, something he knew soothed you after sex. It took a few minutes until you finally gathered a thought and opened your mouth, and Ben knew what you were going to say before you even spoke when he caught a glimpse of the teasing smirk on your lips, so he braced himself.
"So.. Mommy, huh?"
"Don't you start, doll. It just slipped out, seemed natural given what we talked about."
And, sure, it might have slipped out. Doesn't mean it didn't stick, though, as everytime you two had sex from then on, there'd be atleast a round or two where you'd be on top and he'd be a mess beneath you, that one word being the only thing he could say between jumbled and incoherent words.
ALSO, incest fics are fucking weird!! stop romanticising sexual encounters with family members, fiction or not. yes im talking to wincest fans and other fandoms that do this. and tag ur fucking posts correctly too 😭
Been wanting to send in a season drabble request forever! So thrilled I was finally able to come up with a prompt for once! What about some angsty Dean x Reader aftermath of the Quareen taking on Amara’s form as Dean’s deepest desire? Maybe they’re already in a relationship or theres some pre-existing mutual (or not) pining? Your choice! :) (Thanks in advance if you do choose to write it! Your writing is always so incredible!)
Amara
Dean x Reader / Dean x Amara , Sam
674 Words
Warnings: NSFW. Smut and Angst. Dean’s a mess
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Dean paused with his hand on the car door, looking over the roof at Sam. “Just- just don’t tell Y/N, OK?”
Sam started to protest, wanted to tell him that she would understand, but he simply nodded. “Promise.”
“Thanks.” Dean pulled the door open. “She’s just a little… all this Amara stuff, ya know?”
Sam frowned but agreed. “Yeah. No, I get it.”
Y/N was waiting back at the motel, a bucket of fried chicken growing cold on the table. She sat at the end of the bed, knee bouncing, eyes staring at the door. It wasn’t like her to worry, but things were so off lately, they were facing so much, that anytime Dean wasn’t within view, her panic crept up.
“Hey.” He startled her when he walked in and Y/N ran to him, kissing his cheek as he pulled her close. “Miss me?” he laughed, letting her go.
“I did.” She smiled and looked him over, examining his face and hands for any cuts that needed immediate attention. “How’d it go?”
Dean swallowed hard and pulled away, shedding his jacket and tossing it on the bed. “It was what it was. All handled.”
She could hear him holding back, his voice was too high and fast, but she ignored it. “Where’s Sam? I picked up some food.”
“He’s doing some clean up,” he said, turning back to her. “And I asked him to give us some time alone.”
Y/N bit her lip. “Oh, really? Someone feeling a little…frisky?” She laughed and came towards him, shaking her hips, trying to make him laugh.
He couldn’t laugh. He needed to tell her, needed to confess that the monster had come to him as Amara, had read the desire on his heart, but the words refused to move to his tongue. He bit his lip and shook his head, staring down at the floor.
Y/N dropped the act and reached up to cup his chin. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
His blood was racing, body aching for Amara, for the blissful release that he felt whenever she was around. He stared down at his girlfriend, hating himself for not loving her more, for being unable to resist the Darkness. “Y/N, I…”
She took his face in both hands and drew him slowly down, pushing up on her tiptoes to kiss his lips. “It’s OK, Dean. Whatever it is, we got it. OK?”
Her fingers felt like fire on his skin and he gave in, wrapping his arms tight around her. “I need you so bad,” he growled, speaking not to Y/N, but the woman...the thing he could never have.
Y/N pressed her body against his. “You got me, Dean. Always.”
He closed his eyes and kissed her, Amara’s face alive in his secret vision. Y/N faded away and he could feel Amara, feel her breasts beneath his hands, feel her tongue slid against his. He lifted her easily, dropping down onto the bed and ripping away the fabric that lay between him and ecstasy.
“God, I love you,” he groaned, singing to his phantom queen as he pressed his cock slowly inside of her.
Y/N moaned happily and wrapped her legs tight around his wide hips, hanging on. “Love you, Dean...love you so much, baby… so much.”
Amara whispered in his ear, promising eternal peace, freedom from pain and worry, everything he ever needed. Dean came inside her, giving in, letting her take his very soul.
Y/N rolled away and grabbed up her shirt, hiding herself as Dean panted, exhausted against the pillows. Her eyes were wet, her heart aching, but she hid it from him, rushing off to the bathroom instead of staying to lay with him as they usually did.
She held her words, burying them deep down, broken inside after Dean had called out for her. With his cock pulsing in her cunt, filling her up with their love, Dean had lifted his eyes to Heaven and called her name.
can we maybe get a little Sammy pet play fluff/smut?? something along the lines of how he takes care of puppy!reader, teaches her tricks, treats her like a dog… mayhaps how he disciplines her when she isn’t obedient😳
ty for the ask!!! i see a lotttt a people are fans of pet play which i luvvv <3 i’ll do two of these (after i finish the second one i’ll link it here): one for puppy!reader and one for puppy!sam! I’ll also be doing owner!dean, which was teased in this post, and should be out soon as well!
fluffy stuff first!
owner!sam is sooo gentle with his girl. he makes sure your collar isn’t too tight, keeps you nicely groomed, and feeds you the best and most nutritious meals on the market. he just spoils you rotten!
owner!sam who buys you toy after toy, trying to keep you preoccupied if he’s busy. your favorite is the tug-a-rope, since Sam would often hold onto the other end while you pull on your end, trying to pull it out of his grasp. his grip is always too tight for you to get it, though :(
owner!sam who completely melts if his baby gives him puppy eyes (little does he know you’re just copying him), leaving him completely defenseless. he’d give up the entire world if you asked him to with those sweet eyes…
owner!sam insisted that you were to be clicker trained. wether he’s clicking with his mouth or an actual clicker, he keeps you in line. he prides himself on how you know so many tricks, making owner!dean jealous since his puppy!girl only knows how to sit.
if you’re hunting with owner!sam, he’d have you follow scents of whatever your hunting and reward you with treats if you lead him to them.
owner!sam who loves to hear your happy little yips when he gets home, watching your tail wag and and smile widen as you tell him about your day. he’d lay you in his lap while gently scratching behind your ears, your tail thumping happily against the couch.
if you weren’t much of a bad girl, owner!sam would punish you by having you sit in your kennel, curled up in your bed with a pout. he could never stay mad at you, though, so he lets you out after a few minutes ;3
smut under the cut!!!
one of the “tricks” owner!sam taught you was how to sit and stay on his cock, leaving you cock warming him for hours, usually as punishment.
sometimes, if he really wants to punish you, he’ll sit you in front of him with one of those “toys” he got for you and makes you touch yourself. using your clicker training, he’ll tell you when to stop, when to keep going, and when to cum. during this, he’d be masterbating too, emptying his load into one of your dog bowls and getting you to lick it clean.
owner!sam who keeps you gagged while fucking you, hitting that spongey spot nice and deep so he can hear your loud fucked-out moans and whines.
since his poor girl has an oral fixation, at night you’re either stuffing your mouth with his fingers or his cock. there’s no in between
owner!sam who’s a little obsessed with how small his pup is, taking joy in man handling her with such force, she’s left with hand prints and bruises on her body.
owner!sam who is a soft dom, steering his puppy girl with soft but stern direction. he’ll mostly praise you, but in the off chance he does degrade you…
you had made the mistake of touching your pussy without permission from Sam, leaving him no choice but to punish you. he had the clicker in his hand while he fucked you on all fours.
“you’re such a desperate pup, huh? touching this cunt without my permission?” he growled, his hand wrapping around the base of your tail.
you moaned, arching into his touch before you hear a loud click!
“good girl. keep arching your back. i’ll give you what you need.” your pussy tightened around his cock, a lout whine leaving your lips. “no baby, you’re not cumming yet. girl girls who follow orders get to cum. not desperate mutts who can’t fucking restrain themselves.”
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ꕤ summary: general shy dating hc again!! spoiler; sam is the softest, most patient boyfriend ever. he understands your awkwardness, your shyness, your nervousness, all of it, and he loves you for it.
♯ warnings: lots of cuteness, emotional moments/support, comfort!! soft boy affection overload, sam being the gentlest giant to ever giant, safe relationship energy that might make you cry, pre-established relationship.
♯ notes: on the request of the sweet @everythingisaspectrum!! sorry this took so long (╥﹏╥) for anyone worried on the taglist who signed on just for dean, just hit me up and ill make sure to not tag you on any other characters. plus the taglist got an update!!
HE DOES GROCERY SHOPPING IF YOU’RE TOO STRESSED.. but not in a ‘ugh, fine I’ll go’ way. no, this man is walking out the door with a list you scribbled and texting you stuff like “do you want the strawberry yogurt or the peach? i forgot which one’s your favorite :(“
HAND-HOLDING IS HIS FAVORITE THING EVER.. he knows you’re shy about PDA, so he never forces it, but when you do reach for his hand, oh, he cherishes it. he’ll squeeze your fingers gently, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, completely focused on you.
LOVES HEARING YOU TALK ABOUT THE THINGS YOU LOVE.. even if you’re shy, when you finally start opening up about something you’re passionate about, sam is so happy. he’ll listen intently, nodding along, asking questions, just completely mesmerized by how cute you look when you get excited.
SAM READS TO YOU.. out loud. you’re laying in bed, curled up under a blanket, and he’s got a book in one hand, your hand in the other. he has the most soothing voice ever and every few lines he’ll glance over at you with the softest smile like, “still with me, sweetheart?”
LOVES IT WHEN YOU GET SLEEPY AND CLINGY.. if you ever get too tired to keep up your usual shyness and just snuggle into him, sam is in heaven. he’ll wrap you up in his arms, stroking your hair, whispering, “you can fall asleep, sweetheart. i’m not going anywhere.”
HE KEEPS A LITTLE MENTAL LIST OF THINGS THAT MAKE YOU ANXIOUS.. crowds, loud places, random new people. he notices and makes plans around it. if you’re ever somewhere you don’t like, he’ll quietly lean over and whisper, “want to head out, babe?” and if you nod? he’s already guiding you out like a prince in plaid.
HE LEGIT BRAGS ABOUT YOU IN PRIVATE.. if he’s talking to dean or someone he trusts, he gets this dreamy little smile and is like, “she’s shy, yeah… but she’s got the biggest heart. smartest girl i’ve ever met.” he’s so down BAD.
WHEN YOU’RE OVERWHELMED, HE GIVES YOU HIS HOODIE.. and i mean, immediately. you’re not even asking, he just sees you getting overwhelmed and wordlessly tugs it off, wraps it around you, and kisses your hair. now you smell like him and feel safe.
SAM IS OBSESSED WITH YOUR VOICE WHEN YOU TALK JUST TO HIM.. you might be quiet around others, but when it’s just the two of you? when you’re cuddling and whispering things only he gets to hear? he treasures it. he’ll literally say, “i love your voice. it’s so peaceful.”
HE NOTICES EVERY TINY CHANGE IN YOUR MOOD.. you don’t even have to say anything; he can just tell. he’ll come up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist, rest his chin on your shoulder and softly ask, “what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
HE HAS A BABY VOICE, JUST FOR YOU.. not like silly baby talk, but that extra affectionate tone that only comes out when he’s holding you close or waking you up in the morning. “c’mon, sweetheart… time to get up. i made your tea.” like PLEASE he’s your emotional support giant.
HE’S SO GENTLE WHEN YOU’RE UPSET.. if something’s bothering you, he’ll never push you to talk, but he’ll always make sure you know he’s there. he’ll rub slow circles on your back, murmur soothing words, and just be there until you’re ready to open up.
SAM LOVES WHEN YOU PLAY WITH HIS HAIR.. you’re shy about touching him, but the first time you nervously threaded your fingers through his hair, sam melted. he closed his eyes, leaned into your touch, and let out the softest sigh. now he begs for it. “c’mere, baby. Just for a minute.”
YOU HAVE A SAFE WORD FOR SOCIAL EXITS.. sam came up with it. like if you’re somewhere that’s draining you, all you have to do is say the word (maybe something dumb and cute like ‘moose tracks’) and he’ll immediately get you out, no questions.
HE WRITES YOU NOTES.. little sticky notes with stuff like “drink water today, babe <3” or “i miss you, even if you’re just in the next room” and sticks them where you’ll find them. your journal, your laptop, the fridge, your pillow, everywhere.
HE FINDS YOUR AWKWARDNESS SO HOT.. when you try to be flirty but your voice shakes, or you avoid eye contact after saying something bold? sam is grinning so hard. he’ll bite his lip and softly say, “that was really cute. keep going.” and you’re immediately done for.
IF YOU CRY, HE’S IN FULL ON SOFT MODE.. no panic, no ‘don’t cry’ BS. he just holds you close, rocks you gently, and says stuff like, “let it out, sweetheart. i’m right here. i’m not going anywhere.” literal human comfort blanket.
HE NEEDS A KISS BEFORE BED.. even if it’s just a shy little peck. and if you’re being all bashful and hiding your face under the covers, he’ll laugh softly and coax you out with kisses to your hands. “don’t hide that pretty face, baby.”
HE BUYS YOU BOOKS THAT REMIND HIM OF YOU.. the titles are always something cheesy like “quiet is beautiful” or just some cheesy romance novel with a blushing heroine. he always scribbles a note inside like “saw this and thought of you. you’re my favorite.”
HE LIVES FOR THE LATE NIGHT CONVOS.. you’re in bed, half-asleep, and you whisper something like “do you think the stars look different in heaven?” and this man is suddenly wide awake and in full philosophical mode, holding you and telling you what he thinks while stroking your arm.
HE TOTALLY PICKS UP ON YOUR SOCIAL ANXIETY AND SUBTLY HELPS YOU OUT.. if you’re in a conversation and get flustered, sam will gently step in without making it obvious. he’ll steer the conversation smoothly so you don’t feel pressured to talk too much, all while giving you reassuring little touches, like a hand on your back.
SAM OFFERS YOU HIS JACKET WITHOUT YOU ASKING.. cold? you get the jacket. nervous? you get the jacket. just existing in the world? guess what, you’re getting the damn jacket. it’s like a hug from him, and you know he gets a little weak seeing you wrapped up in it.
HE NEVER LETS YOU DOUBT HOW MUCH HE WANTS YOU.. you’re quiet and might have moments of thinking you’re too awkward or not enough. sam sees it immediately and pulls you into the warmest hug, whispering, “you’re everything i’ve ever wanted, sweetheart. don’t ever think you’re not.”
ADORES THE WAY YOU TUCK YOURSELF INTO HIS SIDE.. like a little shy koala. if you ever burrow into him, face in his chest, holding onto his flannel? he’s DONE. he’ll just wrap you up and murmur, “god, i love you so much.”
contents & disclaimers: puppy dog sam(?), clingy sweetheart sam, not set in any particular season, fluff, intended lowercase, cheesy writing, suggestive themes, not proofread
a/n: i wrote this while listening to this, ive been thinking of this concept since his bday, also this is slightly inspired by a post i saw a while ago but i seriously do not remember what it was called, also this took me hours. sigh
sleepy!sam who hugs you from behind and tucks his face into your shoulder when he's tired
sleepy!sam who is really freaking warm.. making him perfect to nap with! :D
sleepy!sam who loves it when you let him nap with his head on your chest and you play with his hair
sleepy!sam who chronically drools, and is self-conscious of the fact
sleepy!sam who is the most adorable guy when he wakes up
sleepy!sam who (despite being sleepy) either needs 900 mg of caffeine to stay awake or 900 mg of melatonin to stay asleep, there's no in between
when sam wasn't getting up you smacked his ass to get him up and moving and he was pissed at you for the rest of the week.. lol
when sam was sleeping you took a photo of him and when he found it he was so embarrassed :(
sleepy!sam who loves cuddling with you. loves it. he loves laying on you and spooning you especially, but he isn't picky when it comes to how you guys cuddle.
sleepy!sam who gets paranoid that he's just a bit too big for you, especially when he engulfs you with all 6'4 of him. "'m i getting too heavy, baby?" he'd look up at you and ask with his big puppy eyes, and even if he was, you'd shake your head no and tell him he wasn't because how could you say no to him?
sleepy!sam who sleeps face down typically which is so cute because.. because it is idk
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jinx tried to live a normal life as they could, but it was hard when their dad was a part of a coven and fell in love with their hunter mom and grew up with powers. but after running into the winchesters, jinx is thrown back into the world of supernatural and eventually falls for the taller winchester against their better judgement and wishes.
✶. a/n: RAHH i finally made an intro post/ mood board for jinx! i thought i had made a mood board for them but apparently i didn't loll but i need to come back and write for this universe bc i miss jinx and sam sm <3
✶. a/n .2: also got inspo for the layout by @daylighted
yap about this w/meノseason of the witch masterlist
summary: sam's not answering your texts, so you panic and track him down to a hospital OR where dean finds out that you and sam are dating
pairings: established sam winchester x witch!reader, sam winchester x gn afab!reader, sam x jinx!ノ wc: 3.3k
warnings: no use of 'y/n', reader is a witch and referred to as jinx, based on my headcanons for this verse, angst, some hurt/comfort, fluff, dean being dean, slightly suggestive but not really, title is a lyric from no one noticed by the marias, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own
a/n: happy birthday to sam winchester the loml!! lol ik im still technically on a hiatus but i had to post this in honor of his birthday and i've been meaning to write this since like march and ive been wanting to write for this universe again and so i finally finished it!! i still have shit ton of school work to do but trust ill be coming back soon (and hopefully with a mini series to post for you guys!) but in the meantime enjoy the fic <33
sam winchester masterlist | season of the witch masterlist
IF SAM WASN’T DEAD YET, YOU’D KILL HIM YOURSELF.
It wasn’t like Sam for him to leave your messages unread for more than a day or two, but he had been MIA for almost three days at this point. You didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, knowing how rough some hunts got for the brothers—but there was this pit in your stomach that wouldn’t go away no matter how much tea you drank or how much you tried to distract yourself, the feeling persisted.
You were distracted in class. You knew it, and your students knew it. You glanced down at your phone a couple of times while your students were doing group work that you had assigned after your short lecture. You looked at the digital clock that was mounted on the wall on the other side of the lecture hall.
You quickly got the attention of the class—noting that you had about fifteen minutes before class ended and brought them back from their conversations. You guys had a quick class discussion before dismissing them. Some of your students lingered to ask you a few questions about the assignment you had assigned. You quickly answered them, trying not to be rude to them—eager to leave for the day and head back home, hoping that Sam would have texted you back by now.
You had to resist the urge to check your phone at each stop light as you drove home from the university. You all but shot out of your car with your work bag, your phone clutched tightly in your grip as you made your way inside your house. Your bag fell onto the wooden table with a small ‘thump’ and ignored the way your cat was brushing up against your legs, and you stared blankly at your screen.
Your message still hasn't been seen by Sam. You swallowed the lump of dread that was stuck in your throat as the little white letters reading ‘Delivered’ on your phone taunted you. You let out a harsh breath through your nose as your mind conjured up the worst scenarios that Sam could be in right now.
Seeing Sam’s lifeless eyes flash through your mind and snap you out of your stupor, not wanting to entertain the idea that he was dead. You turned off your phone, tossing it on your kitchen table, right next to your bag as you walked down the hallway and opened the door to your office that doubled as your witchy workspace (Sam came up with the name and always called it that on the rare occasion he stayed over).
You gathered the ingredients for tracking spells, some enchanted fire, and a spare map of the country. You took a deep breath before murmuring some Latin before lighting the map on fire. The spell took no longer than forty-five seconds to perform, and you were left with Sam’s location. You swiftly figured out that he was in a hospital in Hyde Park, Utah. After making a few phone calls and canceling class—you were on a redeye flight to the closest airport to that city.
It was safe to say that your anxiety was at an all-time high at this point as you gripped the armrest of the chair. You couldn’t stay still, your knee bouncing up and down rapidly as you stared hard outside of the airplane window. You were grateful that there was practically no one on this flight—it wasn’t a commercial flight, the plane being a tad bit smaller than your average one, but you thought that no one was heading to Utah this time of year.
You thought the next time you’d see Sam, you would be excited to see him and his infuriatingly gorgeous face, but you were uneasy and tense as you impatiently waited for the flight to be over.
“Would you like something to eat or drink?” A kind voice pulled you from your spiraling thoughts.
You tore your eyes away from the window to the flight attendant, who had a polite smile on her face as she waited for you to respond.
You cleared your throat. “Yeah, do you guys have any tea?”
She nodded. “We have chamomile, jasmine, green, or hibiscus tea.”
“I’ll take some chamomile.” You sent the flight attendant a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes as your lingering thoughts of Sam started to become more prevalent.
“Okay, I’ll be right back with your tea.” She sent you another smile before making her way down the aisle and to her station.
You let out a long breath before looking back out the window. Once you had landed (the chamomile tea you had did nothing to calm your nerves), you immediately got into the rental car and made your way to the hospital he was in. Did you break a few traffic laws? Well, if no one caught you, did you really break them? But you made it to the hospital in record time as you quickly parked and made your way into the lobby of the sterile building.
When you entered the lobby, Dean was sitting on one of the chairs waiting for Sam to be discharged and immediately spotted your frazzled condition with your slightly rumpled clothing and frizzy hair—a stark contrast to your usual put-together outfits and calm composure. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight of you, confused as to how you knew where they were and why you were even there.
Just before you were going to ask the receptionist about Sam, the elevator doors opened—your head instinctively jerked in the direction of them, and out came your boyfriend, looking worse for wear but alive.
The pit in your stomach finally settled, and a wave of relief washed over you. You didn’t even notice Dean getting from his chair and heading towards you. Your eyes were strictly on a limping Sam heading down the hallway toward the lobby.
You didn’t think as your feet started to carry you to Sam, his eyes finally dragging up from the floor and meeting your teary gaze as you met him in the middle of the hallway. His eyes widened, filled with confusion as you approached him with determined steps.
Uncaring of who was around you, you didn’t hesitate to gather Sam’s face in your hands and pressed your lips against his. You could feel Sam's surprise at the initial contact—but he sank into the familiar feeling of your soft lips moving against his. Sam’s hands came to rest on your waist as your hands cradled his face, feeling the warmth of his cheeks against your chilled palms.
Dean looked at the scene in front of him with widened eyes, a myriad of emotions coursing through him. Saying that Dean was shocked was an understatement. Seeing Sam kiss the witch that he would consider an ally/reluctant friend was something he wouldn’t have imagined in a million years—but here was his brother kissing you back in front of him.
Sam pulled back, registering that Dean was right behind you and the fact that you were standing in front of him. His eyes darted to Dean, trying to read the expression plastered on his face, but it was unreadable.
Sam’s attention was drawn back to you. “What are you doing here?” He asked after clearing his throat, a knot of nerves tangling up in his stomach.
“Really?! That’s the first thing you ask me? I should be asking you that question Winchester.” You thrust a finger at his chest, “You were the one who hasn’t responded to me in almost four days.” You huffed, “You never do that without a warning.” You added quietly.
Sam winced at the use of his last name. You were definitely mad at him. He grabbed the hand you were pointing at him with, rubbing circles into the back of your hand to try and quell your rising anger.
“I know, I’m sorry. We got caught up in the case and when we were tracking the nest, there were a lot more than we anticipated and they got one over on us. My phone broke and well,” Sam gestured to his slightly battered appearance, “You can guess what happened after.”
The anger left your body as your eyes raked over Sam’s figure—there was a gash on his forehead and on the bridge of his nose, and you can only imagine what he looked like underneath his clothes—it must have been serious if Dean had taken Sam to the hospital.
Your shoulders relaxed as you sighed. “Sorry, I just got caught up in my head and it jumped to the worst possible situation you could have been in.”
Sam smiled down at you, his hands resting on your shoulders. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were just worried.” He leaned down and kissed your forehead. “It’s cute that you were though.” Sam murmured into your forehead before pulling away.
You lightly hit his stomach in retaliation, a playful scowl on your face before it morphed into a tender smile that mirrored Sam’s.
“Not trying to break up this very heartwarming reunion, but when did this even happen?” You jumped at the sound of Dean’s drawling voice and whipped around to see him standing behind you with crossed arms and an impassive expression plastered on his face.
Sam moved past you, hiding you behind him, shielding you from the potential wrath of Dean. “Can we do this at the motel?” Sam said sharply, before sending his brother a look—a silent conversation passing through the two of them before Dean scowled slightly.
Dean stalked off, grumbling under his breath. Sam let out a breath before turning to you.
“He’s gonna kill me isn’t he?”
Sam shook his head. “He won’t, not if I have anything to say about it. Besides, Dean likes you more than Rowena.”
“I think you mean he tolerates me more than her.” You pointed out.
It wasn’t lost on you the fact that Dean hated, no loathed, witches with a passion. You knew he was reluctant to work with you from the minute that you told them that you were one yourself—always keeping you at arm's length and telling you the second that you stepped out of the proverbial line, you’d get a witch-killing bullet to the skull.
“Trust me, he’d call you before calling Rowena for help.”
You raised an eyebrow at him. “Because he knows I wouldn’t ask for anything in return other than the promise that you guys won't ask for my help again.”
“And yet you still help us. Wonder why that is?” Sam asked with a cheeky smile on his face.
You rolled your eyes. “Let’s get to the motel before your brother actually decides to kill me.”
You followed behind the Impala in your rental car to the motel the boys were staying in and quickly parked. You were led to their room, and it felt like you were in trouble and got sent to the principal’s office.
Dean stood across the room from where you and Sam were. You were standing by the entrance just in case things went south and you could make a quick escape.
“So,” Dean started, with his hands on his hips like a disappointed father ready to scold his kids. “How long has this been going on?” He gestured to you and Sam with a slight frown on his face.
You and Sam glanced at each other before Sam cleared his throat.
“Almost a year.” Sam scratched at the back of his neck, a sheepish expression on his face as he took in the look of surprise that passed through Dean.
Dean’s brows furrowed, clearly connecting the dots in his mind. “So, when you said you were-”
“Yeah, I was visiting Jinx.” Sam cut him off, confirming his suspicions.
Dean let out a breath. “Okay.”
You and Sam exchanged confused looks with one another.
“What do you mean by ‘okay’?” You spoke for the first time since you entered the room.
“I mean, you guys can date or whatever you guys have been doing for the past year. It’s none of my business.” Dean shrugged before moving to the mini fridge in the room and grabbing a beer.
You were sure you were living in an alternate universe right now. Dean Winchester giving you the seal of approval (or what you considered the seal of approval) to date his brother.
“But if you hurt my brother or do anything to betray us, you know I won’t hesitate to plant a-”
“I got it. Any bodily harm or emotional damage done to any of you and I don’t ever see the light of day again.” You interrupted quickly, “Heard you loud and clear.” You sent Dean a tight smile as he raised his beer in the air towards you, a silent confirmation and agreement of your words.
Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, but he was relieved that Dean didn’t make it a bigger deal than it needed to be.
You turned to Sam. “I’m going to grab another room.” You glanced between the two brothers, and there was lingering tension. You figured that they needed to settle before you headed back home.
Sam nodded and kissed your cheek before you left the room. Once the door shut with a soft click, Sam stared at Dean, who was sitting at the edge of the bed he had claimed to be his own almost a week before.
“So, you’re really okay with it? Me being with Jinx?” Sam questioned as he sat down on his bed.
Dean took a sip of his drink before responding. “Yeah, I mean I would have preferred someone who wasn’t a witch.” Dean joked before looking at Sam. “You’ve been happier lately and I couldn’t figure out why, but now I do. As much as I hate to admit it, you’re good for each other.”
Sam shook his head at his brother. Always count on Dean to give the both of you a backhanded compliment. “Thanks. I think?” A slightly puzzled smile on Sam’s lips.
“No problem.”
There was a knock on the door, and Sam got up and gingerly walked (limped) to the door and saw you with your bag slung on your shoulder, a tired smile on your face.
“Got a room?” Sam asked as leaned on the doorway.
You nodded in response before jostling your bag by your side. “I brought some things to help speed along the process.” You gestured to his injured face. “Walk with me to my room?”
Sam nodded before turning back into the room and grabbing his bag from the floor. “I’m going with Jinx, don’t wait up.” He informed Dean.
Dean’s lips pulled up into a sly grin. “Okay, make sure you wear protection! I don’t want to be an uncle right now.”
Sam’s cheeks flushed red. “Fuck off Dean.” He quickly closed the door, cutting off the boisterous laugh that escaped Dean.
An amused smirk was on your face at the scene and at Sam’s reddened cheeks.
“I hate him.” Sam breathed out.
You couldn’t help the small chuckle that left you, making Sam snap out of his embarrassment and smile down at you. You smiled back at him before you started to walk to your room, Sam following close behind.
Once you made it into the room, you quickly ushered Sam to the nearest bed and set your bag down right next to him as he got settled on the edge of it. You pulled out the various healing salves and bandages that you hastily packed before leaving your house.
“Take off your shirt.” You told him as you opened the lid to one of your salves.
“At least take me to dinner first.” Sam teased as he unbuttoned the flannel he was wearing.
“Haha. Very funny.” You shot him a deadpan look, but the corner of your lips was twitching, threatening to pull into a smile.
He pulled off his shirt, trying to hide the grimace of pain that passed through his face as his ribs were screaming in protest from the movements. His sides and ribs were bruised, and his torso was covered in minor nicks and gashes that were covered in gauze and that needed to be changed.
You worked quickly, the room filled with silence but being broken once in a while with the harsh intake of breath that Sam would have if you pressed into a tender spot. As you worked, Sam took the time to let his eyes roam your face and figure. It had been almost a month and a half since he had seen you in person, and even though your appearance had barely changed, he could see the worry etched into your features.
Sam instinctively raised his hand and used his thumb to smooth out the wrinkle between your brows. You looked up from bandaging the last gash in his tanned skin, meeting his hazel eyes.
“Hey, I’m okay.” He murmured as Sam’s hand moved to cup your face.
You let out a shuddering breath and leaned into the warmth of his palm. All of the stress and anxiety that you were trying to suppress for the past twenty-four hours seemed to unravel at the comfort Sam was trying to provide. You could feel your eyes start to sting with tears, and before you knew it, one fell from your eye unwillingly—then others began to follow it in its footsteps down your face.
Sam was quick to pull you into his lap, and you went willingly. His arms wrapped around you as you tucked your face into his neck, tears streaming down your face as you silently cried in the comfort of Sam’s arms. Sam didn’t say anything, pressing the occasional kiss to your head as one of his hands rubbed your back and the other cradled your head.
Eventually, your tears stopped, and Sam moved the two of you back onto the bed, heads resting on the pillows as you faced each other. Sam wiped your face, which was wet with tears, before pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, then one on either of your cheeks, another on the tip of your nose—making you smile, before pressing his lips against yours in a tender kiss.
Sam poured all of the reassurances and unspoken promises into the kiss, sending warmth through your chest as you sank into his embrace. You eventually broke the kiss, Sam pressing one last lingering peck on your lips before resting his forehead against yours, breathing in the comforting scent of jasmine, honey, cinnamon, and something that he could only describe as distinctly you.
Sam’s mouth moved before he could even think about what he was saying. “Move in with me.”
Your eyes snapped open as you stared into the intense hazel hue of his eyes, trying to find any kind of teasing or amusement in his gaze.
“You’re serious?” You whispered.
Sam nodded, his hair shifting against the pillowcase as he kept his eyes trained on you.
“What does Dean think about this?”
“Dean can deal with it. We have plenty of room in the bunker, and it would be more convenient than driving out to meet you or ask for help.” Sam started to spout out reasons why you should move in with him.
Before he could get ahead of himself, you shut Sam up by placing a hand on his mouth. “I’ll think about it. And I’d rather not move in if Dean isn’t okay with it, so please ask him.”
Sam moved your hand from his mouth, a slight pout on his face, and looked at you with pleading eyes.
You groaned slightly at the sight of Sam’s puppy eyes. “Don’t give me that look, I didn’t say no. Just let me sit on the idea before we jump the gun, okay?” You told him. You knew if you moved in with him, you’d say goodbye to the life that you built for yourself and take a plunge back into the hunting life.
Sam sighed but nodded. “I love you.” He whispered in the little space that you shared with him.
omg i love this so much, i adore fics when the boys date a witch reader!! ofc my psychic baby would love a witchy girl <3 also Dean’s reaction to the truth is frying meeee so bad, omg!! But very mature as well!! “I don’t want to be an uncle right now!” BYE, LMFAO.
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