#samsmut

As if to test your claim, his fingers pulled the needle just a little bit tighter—never with the intent of actually hurting you, only to see you squirm and prove your theory wrong.

You could sit in front of him insisting you were fine all you wanted. At the end of the day you were still bleeding heavily, with the color drained from your face and your breathing shallow as if the smallest movement made your whole body ache.

You were having a tough time just sitting on the edge of the motel bed, Sam crouching in front of you. He briefly blinked up at you from between your knees and were it not for the gravity of your situation, you would’ve definitely teased him for the proximity.

“You will be okay,” Sam responded with a short nod. Not so much an agreeing statement as it was a promise. He’d make sure you’d be alright. He always does.

“Just hold still f’me, ‘kay?,” Sam sighed, brows furrowed and concern still swirled into the hazel of his eyes. He soothed over the edge of your fresh stitches after, his thumb barely grazing your bruised, sensitive skin there. Whether or not you usually disliked being treated like some delicate porcelain doll, you were in no position to complain now.

You owed him the chance of tracing your warmth, of reminding himself that you were still here. Hurt, sure. But at least alive.

Silence occupied the room then, Sam’s sole focus on closing the wound, on letting the warmth of his fingers linger against your skin in hopes of magically absorbing some of your pain.

You both knew when to argue and now was not the time.

Sam could’ve easily scolded you for your reckless actions and he’d have every right to be mad at you for risking your life like that. But how could he stay mad at you when your soft fingers curled in his shirt like that? Your grip tightening every time he worked the needle into another stitch through your skin.

The wound was deep, a nasty gash raking across your ribs, stopping just shy of the dip above your hips. The longer he looked at it, even while cleaning and patching you up with utmost care, the harder the realization hit him.

He was mostly done cleaning the cut, but the deep crimson gushing from your injury was ingrained deeply into his mind. Surely it would be for a while.

You’ve seen each other beaten up and bruised and hurt, but tonight—the image of you nearly bleeding out back there was a gut punch like none other.

Sam almost lost you today. For good.

The danger of hunting was always on both your minds, but there’s a difference between knowing something could theoretically happen and something actually happening.

It all transpired so fast, too. A hunt almost gone wrong, that creature slashing you with its claws—if he started thinking about what would’ve happened if any of your vital organs would’ve been hit, if Sam hadn’t taped you up on the spot and rushed back to the motel with you…

“Sam,” your voice, though weary, interrupted the spiral of his mind.

He lifted his gaze, his eyes meeting yours and looking into them as if he wanted to drown in their color. He didn’t even want to think about how close of a call this case was. How that light in your eyes might’ve almost been snuffed out. How that would’ve changed the trajectory of his entire life. Of everything.

“I mean it,” you continued, soft-spoken, apologetic, almost a whisper. One hand of yours gently cupping his jaw. “I’m okay.”

Your hand brushed over the side of his neck, further south across his arm, all the way down to his hand that just finished tying the stitches together. You carefully took the needle from his grip and replaced the object with your own hand, letting it rest in his.

Your other hand found home in the nape of his neck, slowly pulling him closer. Though the frown never disappeared from Sam’s face, he gave in, letting you hold him closer.

Naturally, his arm slipped around your waist, supporting your weight by splaying a large hand across the small of your back. You melted into the touch, like always, letting yourself sink back into the mattress. Though your ministrations were slower than usual, given your battered state. Sam noticed, carefully readjusting your posture until the clench in your jaw softened.

Against his better judgement, he allowed you to pull him on top of you, meeting you halfway by climbing onto the bed and settling between your legs. Though he did his best not to crush you with his weight, not wanting to put any pressure on your fresh bandages, Sam could relate to your need for closeness all too well.

You tangled your limbs with his, clingy as always, though he’d never complain about it.

Except this time—

“You need some rest, sweetheart,” Sam whispered, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

His breath was warm and soothing against your skin, and triggering you to pout softly and shake your head.

“Need you, Sammy,” you breathed.

And, God, he needed you too. To feel your pulse quicken under his touch. To feel your pulse at all. To hear your breath hitch when you’d gasp his name. To hear your lungs pumping to begin with.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, baby,” he mumbled.

“You won’t,” you replied, so matter-of-factly, so earnestly, that the blind trust you had in him made him melt.

You leaned forward just a bit, as much as you could, your mouth tickling the corner of his lips. Your fingers slipped under his flannel, peeling the fabric off his shoulders. The newly exposed skin was immediately covered in feather light kisses, down his jaw and neck, to his collarbone.

Sam gently, but firmly took your wrists, pinning them above your head. Not to stop this, just to stop you—from getting ahead of yourself. From forgetting it was supposed to be him taking care of you.

Sam’s lips claimed yours in a deep kiss, tasting the sweetness of your tongue against his, drinking up your small mewls and whimpers. You were impossibly soft and warm, inviting him in even further.

You clung to him as if your life depended on it, pressing your chest up against his with the purpose to transfer the rhythm of your heartbeat.

His ministrations were the perfect blend of careful and firm. He was exploring your body with purpose, holding you close with the intent of not letting go, while making sure not to cause any more damage. He only so much as brushed his fingers across your bruised skin, the ghost of his touch making you shiver nonetheless.

When you flinched ever so slightly, he pressed an apologetic kiss to your shoulder and rubbed soothing circles over your tender sides.

“Almost scared me to death,” he mumbled, deep voice muffled by the warmth of your skin.

“Didn’t mean to, ‘m sorry,” you whispered in breathless fashion and wrapped your legs around him more tightly, wanting to remind you that you were right here with him. Right by his side. Always.

Sam eagerly soaked up your unspoken promise, accepting your vow by sliding his palms over your thighs, sealing the promise with hot open-mouthed kisses across your collarbone. He spread you open, placing a pillow under you as if to say ‘Sit back and let me handle this.’

You didn’t even have to lift a finger, let alone your hips. Not that the iron grip he had on your hips would’ve granted you much movement anyway. He pulled you closer, peeling off the rest of your clothes and worshipping every newly exposed inch of skin with his tongue.

You squirmed under him, barely, triggering him to hold you down even more as his kisses carved a path down your body. Over the swell of your chest, further south to your navel. Sam’s strength had you arch instinctively, like you could let yourself fall into his arms.

“Stay still f’me, baby,” he repeated under a rasp, repeating his earlier command.

You threw your head back into the pillows with a whine, giving in only reluctantly. He was asking the impossible, basically. So, if only out of habit, both of your hands reached out to him, settling on your lower stomach.

Sam understood immediately, shifting slightly between your trembling thighs. One of his hands grasped both of yours, tightly, long fingers wrapping around your soft ones as if swallowing them. His other hand teased your inner thigh, coaxing you open even more.

“Please,” you whimpered, only for him to gently push your form further into the mattress, preventing you from squirming too much.

Sam’s teeth grazed over the apex of your thigh, darkened eyes glued to your reactions. His fingers curled around your leg, fingers digging into the plush of your flesh. Usually he’d take his time with you more, teasing you as much as he can—not tonight.

Squeezing your hands to ground you, his tongue dove into your folds. His mouth spread you open like you were a flower with honey beneath its petals. You sure tasted just as sweet, so how could he not dig in deeper?

The gasps and moans falling from your lips were just as delicious, spurring him on until the sharp of his nose pressed against your sensitive clit.

“So wet for me,” he purred, the vibrations of his voice directly on your core, earning him a shudder.

While Sam did not waste any time taking you apart, he did take his time worshipping you thoroughly. One of his long fingers joined his tongue, circling your entrance before pushing in. A second followed, both of them curling inside of you expertly.

“Sam—”

Your soft cries indicated your nearing orgasm.

Sam did not let up, licking slow circles over your bundle of nerves and steadily pumping his digits. Your thighs tensed around his head, jaw falling open without any sound making it past your throat. If anything, a broken gasp rattled you—somehow both soft and intense at the same time.

A wave of white crashed through you as you fell and shattered, your first climax rushing over you like a tidal wave. Sam continued eating you out like a man starved, eagerly lapping up all you had to offer. Even when you were nothing but a twitching, sensitive mess at his mercy, he kept you close, mouth relentless and grip unyielding.

When he granted you only a second to catch your breath before diving back in, you knew you had a long night ahead of you.

Ever the man with a plan, Sam knew he wanted to show you just how much he needed you—how upset the sheer thought of losing you made him. He’d mend your pain in any way he could, letting the pleasure overshadow it entirely. Stitch for stitch, orgasm for orgasm, until both of you’d be convinced that you were safe, protected, and taken care of in his embrace.

📚 Sam Winchester Taglist:

@figurantedefilme @s7nburn @spn-reader @ladykitana90 @missus-ackles

Lightening streaked across the sky, fragmenting in all directions as the rain came down in sheets, visibility reduced to 3 inches in front of you. Hail rained down, bouncing as it hit the ground. The tent was no match for the golf-ball sized chunks of ice, ripping the first chance it got. I was huddled in my car, listening to the wind howling around me; I didn’t want to chance driving in weather like this. As a bolt of electricity light up the night sky, a twisting funnel caught my eye, dancing across the treeline.

I fumbled for my keys, shoving them into the ignition with shaky hands. The car jumped and shook as I sped up, following the unmarked path with a grimace. I felt every bump in the dirt road- and my back was not thanking me for not getting the shocks replaced soon enough. I swore that I was going to make my boss’s life hell for making me come out in this shit.

All of a sudden, I went into a tail spin, tires locking and squealing. A burst of color shot across my eyelids and my body jolted forward; then it all faded to black.

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“Now, Cooome on, coooome on, cooome on and Take it, take another little piece of my heart now baaybeh…” You belted out the lyrics trying hopelessly to mimic Janis Joplin’s trademark rasp as you turned the Black ’67 Impala down Union Street. The cool breeze coming in off the bay felt good after the humidity you’d endured this past week. You sighed turning the volume down low as you started looking for the right address. “1048, 1048…” you muttered to yourself. Crawling slowly down the block you scanned for the apartment building. “Gotcha’.” You said with a smile and pulled over across from the clay colored building. Unfortunately, you had no clue which apartment it was which was going to make watching the soon to be vic. a hell of a lot harder than you’d expected.

                It was already dark when the Prius pulled up. You watched Tall-brunette-and-gorgeous as he unscrunched his large frame and got out of the car. Slinging a black messenger bag over his shoulder, he closed the door and clicked the lock button on his key chain. You couldn’t help but check him out and from the way his amber eyes kept gravitating toward you yesterday, you could tell he wanted you too. You and Cas had met him at his office as F.B.I Agents when you’d questioned him about the perp. (A lone werewolf that had been using her ex-boyfriend’s internal organs as chew toys.) Sam Winchester was the last one on the list and it had been a pretty long list. You thought wearily rubbing your eyes.

 “Here, I brought you coffee.” You jumped at the Angel’s sudden appearance and then sighed in relief as you recognized Castiel’s gruff voice. “Thanks, Cas.” You said on a yawn and accepted the gas station coffee cup. He nodded and watched Sam walk through the small complex. “It’s the last one there on the left.” Cas commented as you watched Sam unlock the door. He was tall, had to be at least 6 foot three. His light brown hair was a little long, it came to his neck, there seemed to always be a few rebellious locks that fell across his forehead. The touch of bad boy it lent to his clean cut lawyer look really got you hot.

You took a sip of your coffee before opening the car door. Standing, you pulled your seat forward and grabbed your black leather jacket. It was getting late. You checked your watch which read 11:45 PM as Cas came to stand by you on the sidewalk. “Y/N, Do you have the knife just in case?” He asked frowning. “Yeah, I have it, but I don’t plan on letting it get that close.” You responded ignoring the look of concern on the Angel’s face. At first there was no movement and aside from the sounds of traffic a couple of streets over, it was quiet.  The wind whistled in your ears as you scanned the neighborhood once more. Then you heard it, the sound of claws scratching on stone. Cas gestured towards the left and you nodded heading for the apartment complex across the street. You had expected the were to come from pretty much any other side of the complex except that alleyway. Now, it was too late. It was go time and you had to roll with the punches.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. What you were about to do to take the bitch down was completely unorthodox and not at all moral, but hey, it was all you had at the moment and given the circumstances you weren’t going to dwell on the drawbacks right now. The heels of your boots clacked against the turquoise decorative stones leading up the walk to number 1048. With great reluctance you knocked loudly. For a minute or two you considered the possibility that he wouldn’t answer. Then you heard the chain of the security lock being pulled back and the door was opened. The porch light revealed a half-awake Sam Winchester. He stood there wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants, his broad shoulders bare. You could feel the warmth of his bed wafting of him. Daaamn he looks good. You thought. Hestared at you for a few minutes before recognizing you. “Agent Wilson.” He said and smiled a little, the kissable dimple in his left cheek coming into view.

“What’s going on?” He asked reading your restless demeanor. “I thought I could stop her before it came to this, but…she’s here.” You told him regretfully. His sleepiness seemed to have worn off as he moved back from the door to let you in. You entered quickly and shut the door behind you not bothering with the lock. “I need you to listen to what I’m about to say, Sam.” You began. You motioned for him to follow you as you headed up stairs. When you reached the landing you opened the first door and seeing it was the bedroom you entered. “What’s coming for you, it isn’t human.” You said closing the door behind Sam. “Come again?” he asked eyeing you with uncertainty. “You heard me.” You replied pulling the gun out of the holster on your hip. Sam eyed the gun wearily and backed toward the window. “Look, we don’t have time for this. You remember, your ex-girlfriend, Paige? She was bitten by a werewolf a few months ago and you’re on the menu as tonight’s main course. So if you want to stay alive. You will do exactly as I say. Understand?” You snapped. Sam shrugged, but still looked at you like you were crazy. You rolled your eyes and motioned for him to get away from the window. Sam did as you asked and you maneuvered yourself so that you were in front of him. Not two minutes had passed when you heard the glass crash and a figure landed on the floor in the dark.

The blonde werewolf moved fast springing into a sitting position and then standing claws at the ready. It gnashed its sharp teeth at you and growled. There was nowhere for it to go but through you. Using your peripheral vision you scanned for a place to send Sam. There was a bed behind you and a closet on the left. Careful to keep an even tone you told him what to do. “When I step forward, Get in the closet.” You pulled the silver dagger at your wrist into your hand and took one step forward. The were came at you charging full speed ahead, you immediately dropped down into a crouching position the knife in your hands pointing strait a head. The blonde thing hit you hard taking the knife right in the gut, but the force of impact sent you sailing into the door. The thing howled as you fell forward bouncing off the door.

An electric jolt of panic sizzled in your veins as you watched it claw at the closet. You crawled on hands and knees looking for the gun as the were broke chunks of wood off with its teeth. Something warm and wet dripped down your neck making you shudder. The gun, where’s the damn gun? You wanted to scream, but before you could, Cas was there shooting silver bullets at the thing. It recoiled from the closet door clawing at its own body before dropping to the floor convulsing horribly. Without a second thought you pulled yourself up and sprinted to the closet. “Sam?! Sam?!” You yelled out, Castiel on your heels. The door had almost split in two but it swung open when you pulled the knob. Sam had his back pressed flat against the wall, a stricken expression in his eyes. “What the hell was that thing?!” He exclaimed, he was still breathing fast. You felt relieved and let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “Are you okay, Sam?” You asked calmly. His eyes were wide in fear. “Of Course, I’m not okay! That…thing…. Wanted to kill me!” Cas raised his eyebrow staring at Sam like he was nuts. “Actually, it wanted to eat you.” He stated his voice practically monotone.  Sam stared at him an expression of horror on his face. Cas turned to you, “Y/N, He’s in a state of shock.” You shook your head and winced realizing that you must have busted it when you hit the door. Castiel hovered his hand over the back of your head and healed it. “Cas, could you take care of the…?” You asked nodding toward the dead blonde’s body. Cas leaned over what used to be Paige and put his hand on her arm. Both the Angel and the dead were disappeared in an instant. Feeling quite a bit better, you reached into the closet. His big hand was shaking when you grasped it in yours and you moved back so that he could come out.

Sam swallowed looking past you at the shattered glass and chunks of wood littering the carpet. The two of you left the room and you followed him downstairs to the kitchen. “What do I do? Now, that I know these things are out there?” He asked looking into y/c/eyes.  You shifted from one foot to another uncomfortably. “Just be careful, Sam. These things have always been out there and this is the first time you ever had the misfortune of encountering them. You might not ever have to deal with something like this again, but I’ll leave you my number just in case.” You said unsure of what else to say. Sam gripped the edge of the counter with one hand, his eyes on the floor.

Unable to stop yourself from comforting him, you moved closer to him. When Sam looked up at you, you realized just how close. His brown eyes, now held a darkness in them. He had seen too much. His hand came up and touched your face and you gasped at the sudden contact. He pressed his soft full lips to yours and you kissed him back fighting the urge to really taste him. The kiss was gentle and slow at first but within moments it grew causing a hot, feral, hunger to grow within you. You licked his lower lip and he let you in. Sam tasted sweeter than anything you’d ever imagined. As you pressed the tip of your tongue to the roof of his mouth he moaned setting fire to the already growing flame in you. You let your hands run over the muscles in his shoulders and back enjoying every second of it. Sam reached down and pulled at the hem of your shirt. Breaking the kiss, you moved back just enough to pull the thing over your head and fling it off before pressing yourself back up against him. You pressed your lips along his jaw, down his neck, across his collar bone, your fingers running down his stomach. Sam pushed his hips forward rubbing his erection against you. He had the palm of his hand against your cheek and rubbed his thumb over your lips resting it at your chin before leaning in for a kiss.

The sound of Angel wings like the rustle of crisp fall leaves made you jerk backwards. “Should I come back later, Y/N?” Cas asked the smallest hint of annoyance in his tone. Sam took a few steps back himself as though he just realized that the two of you barely knew each other. You sighed, grabbed your shirt up off the floor and pulled it back on. Cas reached into the pocket of his tan trench coat and handed Sam a card that had your number on it. “Just in case.” He said and looked at you expectantly.  “Call me anytime, if you need me.” You said to Sam eyeing his broad shoulders with regret. Sam just nodded and You and Cas walked out to the car.