An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/3
Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Meg | Demon Possessing Meg Masters/Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Characters: Meg | Demon Possessing Meg Masters, Sam Winchester, Azazel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester
Additional Tags: Demonic Possession, Possessive Sex, Jessica was possessed by Meg all along, POV Sam Winchester, POV Meg (Supernatural), Season/Series 01, Episode: s01e01 Pilot, Dubious Consent, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Half-Sibling Incest, per Meg's understanding of her relationship with Sam, Fake Character Death, Protective Meg (Supernatural), Psychic Sam Winchester, Meg was a cambion when alive, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Blow Jobs, Blood Kink, Missionary Position, Multiple Endings, one of them Meg never goes by Meg as she keeps Jessica's body, but it still very much is the character Meg and not a demon version of jess, Cambion Sam Winchester, In a sense
Summary:
She's got lots of names. Now she's Jess.
(What if Jessica was possessed by the demon Meg the whole time?)
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The sound of birds chirping through the open bedroom window wakes her up early. Meg wants to kill them. Why doesn’t she have music on to drown them out? The sun is too bright for her black out curtains, and the bed is too firm. Tensing, Meg realizes she isn’t wrapped around a pillow but a warm, firm body. So fucking firm.
Ungh, why does she keep waking up here.
It’s not the fact that she’s still fucking her hot neighbor after several months that bothers her. It’s that she stays the night. Falls asleep in his bed. Wakes up big-spooning the giant. Then he makes breakfast for her. Sometimes Meg even lets him kiss her goodbye at the door.
It’s disgusting.
But he’s got fucking abs. Wrapping her arm tighter around his midsection, Meg splays her hand across his stomach, feeling the muscles twitch as he shifts and curls in on himself, molding his body back against her. Well, she’s about half his height, so that means one of his legs is pushed back between hers and Meg’s stomach is about where his ass is, with her face pressed to the curve of his back below the wings of his shoulder blades.
Sam is a furnace in bed, warm and soft-skinned and he smells amazing. That’s probably why Meg keeps actually falling asleep with him after sex.
Also, he’s got a monster cock. It pretty much puts her in a coma.
Lightly dragging her nails down his belly and feeling as his back swells on a breath, waking up, Meg closes her hand around his morning wood and strokes loosely.
Sam groans, curls tighter into his ball before stretching out. Reaching his arms in front of him and pushing his legs past the edge of the bed, he stretches like a cat and yawns while Meg tries to hold on. She’s got to scoot down a little to reach around him when he uncurls.
Sighing, Sam rocks his hips, perky ass rubbing against her and Meg takes her hand off his cock to meander up the rock hard muscle of his thigh around to grope his ass. Meg had watched this ass in tight running shorts pass by her kitchen window for many mornings before she figured out how to sweet talk the giant it belonged to without him blushing and hiding from her.
Rubbing her face against Sam, muscle shifting as he twists around onto his back, Meg finds herself face to face with his armpit. She pushes herself up to hover over his chest, squinting in the bright morning light. Dark hair, tangled and messy, falls over one shoulder as Meg glares at him.
“It’s too fucking bright in here. You need better curtains.”
Sam smiles at her, far too sweet for this early in the morning, and gently untangles her hair with his fingers. “We could always stay at your place, I’m-”
“No.”
Meg’s not self-conscious about the scattered piles of dirty laundry in her bedroom or the not-quite-empty mugs of coffee that grow mold on the dresser. So not self-conscious. Sam might be a neat freak, but she doesn’t care what he thinks about that. The guy could stand to leave a stray dirty sock here or there.
Sam’s smile wavers a little after her terse dismissal, and Meg rolls her eyes. “You’re too picky, I don’t have anything you’d want for breakfast.”
“I live ten feet away from your front door.”
“Why do you want to know what my bedroom looks like anyway?”
“Curiosity?”
Groaning, Meg rolls onto her back and tugs at Sam’s arm. She’s not interested in doing any of the hard work this early in the morning. Sam, obligingly, shifts up onto his knees and settles between her thighs, rocking his dick against her stomach as he reaches for the nightstand.
“I like my privacy,” Meg mumbles, biting across Sam’s toned chest and distracting him with her tongue against his nipples, “And my space.”
Shivering and grinding down harder against her every time she bites him a little harder, Sam kisses her forehead and strokes a hand along her side, “Hey, I get it. It’s cool.”
Kneeling up, Sam bites his lip as he rolls the condom on. Meg waits, stretching her arms above her, arching her back and pushing her tits up. Somehow, Sam still manages to look shy and sweet right up to the second he gets his dick inside her. Innocent, overgrown vegetarian-jogger-I-volunteer-at-the-animal-shelter Sam all big eyes and easy blushes.
But he’s a fucking animal when he gets going.
Wrapping her arms around his chest, Meg rakes her nails down his back and Sam screws into her patiently, little shoves forward and back until he can get it all inside. It’s not like Meg’s particularly tight, but that dick needs to carve out it’s own space.
Finally getting her worked open, Sam gives a shove of his hips that pushes her up off the bed and slams the frame against the wall. It quivers through her, root to tip, body clenching at the sudden shift. Meg squeezes her thighs against his waist and pulls him down so she can muffle her screams against his shoulder.
Shifting, Sam bends her in half and hooks her thighs over his shoulders, pushing her knees almost to her ears as he fucks in rougher. Soft hair just long enough to brush against her face tickles, sweat beading on his brow, and Meg closes her eyes when a few drops fall. Pushing her heels against his shoulders, toes curling, the size of him inside her pushes out any thoughts about breakfast incompatibility and commitment-phobia.
She might have trouble committing to a person, but she can commit to this dick.
It’s big enough to hurt at an angle like this, trying to rearrange her insides but Meg can’t get enough of the sharp ache of it, the overwhelming pressure, the heave of his huge body hunched over her and the weight behind his hips.
Biting deep teeth-dash crescents into the curve of his shoulder, his neck, arms locked behind his head holding him down, Meg feels dizzy and light-headed, difficult to breathe all bent out of shape like a folding chair. Sam grunts low from the back of his throat, grinds his hips flush against her as he rubs his cheek along the side of Meg’s head. Tensing and flexing, he goes still between her thighs with a gasp.
“Goddam,” Meg wheezes as Sam slowly pushes up onto his hands, then knees, pulling out of her.
Wiping the sweat off his face with the back of a hand, he’s back to the shy act, averting his eyes, neatly pulling the condom off and tying it.
Meg stretches her aching body, twists her back and rolls her ankles, yawning. She pulls Sam back down to bed.
“I gotta go for my morning run,” he mumbles.
Meg tells him, “That was worth three morning runs.”
Snuggling against her, Sam drapes an arm over her waist. He tries to get her to roll with her back to his stomach, but Meg doesn’t do small spoon. Especially with someone so big; he can fold around her like an origami box. Ungh. It makes her antsy.
Squirming, she rolls over to face Sam, nudging him into small spoon position. She likes the spot below his shoulder blades, the little dip. He smells good, even sweaty. Pressing her chest to his back, his ribs still heaving out and collapsing in with rapid breath, Meg goes back to ghosting her nails over his abs and rubbing her toes on his hairy calves.
“Are you gonna let me make you breakfast?”
Sam curls himself into a smaller ball, engulfing her forearm in one of his giant paws.
“Unghh,” Meg fakes a gagging noise, “I am not eating another one of your smoothies.”
“I’ve got eggs.”
“Any meat?”
“There’s always Morning Star breakfast patties.”
She’ll never admit it to Sam, but the vegetarian ‘sausage’ is actually pretty good.
“Yeah, fine.”
Sam yawns, rubs his sweat off on the pillow, and Meg idly teases at his nipples. Neither of them make a move for the bathroom or the kitchen. It’s a Saturday, and other than getting groceries and maybe rounding up her moldy coffee mugs, Meg hasn’t got anything planned. Breakfast can wait. A nap not even an hour after waking up sounds like a completely feasible option.
Sam had just gotten back to the motel room not five minutes before there was a knock on his door. Turning, he stared at the door and listened while he pulled out his gun. He watched as the lock clicked, and the knob turned. Cocking his gun, Sam raised it and waited. The door swung open, and the woman who stood just beyond the threshold seemed unbothered by the gun aimed at her face.
“Heya, handsome.” She smirked, that sultry slur of her voice something he hadn’t heard in a while. She stepped into the room, and closer to Sam. “Long time no see, and look at you, all dressed up in your suit for little old me.”
“What do you want, Meg?”
“Can’t a girl visit an old friend?”
“We aren’t friends.” Sam snapped.
“History says otherwise, Sammy.” she winked.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” He asked one last time, finger on the trigger.
“Heard you were hunting Alphas alone. Thought you could use a bit of help.”
“I'm not alone.”
“Yeah, grand dad. I heard.” Meg rolled her eyes and waved her finger, shutting the door behind her. “But no Dean. Might as well be alone. Put the gun down, Samuel. You’re not going to shoot me.”
“It’s Sam.” He growled. “You don’t know me.”
The smile spread wider over her face. “Oh, I know you. Much better than you think. If you were going to shoot me, I never would have made it through the door. But you want the help.”
“How could you possibly help me?”
Meg reached out, running a finger under the length of his tie. “I can offer you power, Sam.”
“Been there, done that.”
“But not with me.” her eyes locked on his, and they shone with promise and lust. “I could offer you more than Ruby could have even dreamed. Did you forget who I trained under? Who brought me up? Who my father was.”
“Azazel..”
“Yeah.” She smiled again. “Ruby had nothing on me, Sam.” She saw the change in his eyes as he took her in. “So, want help?” Her eyebrow twitched up at him.
He didn’t bother to answer. Meg didn’t need him to. He pulled her in for a deep kiss, all bruising force and scraping teeth, as he tossed the gun aside onto the bed. Meg smiled into it, she knew she’d win. She knew she’d get him. She tugged at his tie, and Sam started to lead her back as he undid her jeans with far too much ease. Deciding to help him along, she pulled off her shirt as he pushed the jeans and her panties down. Her shirt got tossed one way as her shoes were kicked the other. Once her jeans were around her ankles, she hopped from one foot to the other and pulled them off along with socks, tossing them somewhere off to the side as Sam continued to move her back.
His mouth was on hers again when her back hit the wall between the motel room door and window. “You’re a little overdressed there, Sasquatch.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He growled, teeth scraping along her skin as he started moving down.
Sam was on his knees on the floor, lips ghosting over her mound, hands gripping her thighs as he hooked one over his shoulder. Meg moaned, head going back as it opened her up to him a bit, and he licked a stripe along her slit. But then he hooked the other leg over his shoulder as well, and Meg’s palms slapped flat against the wall, trying to keep her balanced as he started to stand.
“Sam!”
With a growl, he began to devour her. Tongue moving over her clit, teeth sometimes nipping at her lips. When one of her hands entangled in his hair and gave it a pull, Sam growled and turned his head, biting into her thigh with such force that she screamed and blood pooled into his mouth.
Meg had one hand in his hair, and one palm on the ceiling, head bent forward with her mouth open and panting, looking down on Sam. All around his mouth was covered in blood, the collar of his white shirt, no longer white, but a deep red. His face went to her folds again, a shake buried his nose against her clit as his tongue thrust into her cunt and she shook against him. Then he turned his head again, and bit into her other thigh, tearing through flesh as more blood spilled into his mouth and he drank it down. Her head went back against the wall as she cried out once more.
Meg tried to roll her hips, did everything she could to grind herself against his face as he held her up, his large hands holding tight to the curve of her ass. She moaned at the feeling of her blood and juices smearing together all over his face. That deep growl that seemed to never end, rumbled through her pussy and set her nerves ablaze.
Meg was starting to see why Ruby had enjoyed her time with Sam so much.
Sam was suddenly pulling away from the wall, and Meg let out a yelp as she held on to him for dear life. Looking down at him again, she could see his muscles in his forearms working to keep her up. The veins bulging before they disappeared beyond his rolled up shirt sleeves.
It was only a few steps, and then she was falling as he all but launched her down onto the motel bed, bouncing with the force before she settled. Sam ripping the blood stained shirt and tie off himself and tossing them aside had Meg hum in appreciation.
Sam smirked at her as he toed off his shoes and got onto the bed, slowly moving his way up between her legs. His mouth went immediately to her right nipple, latching around it, teeth scraping and tongue swirling, making her moan and writhe beneath him before he bit in, once again breaking skin and drinking down the blood, groaning when she screamed out once again.
Pulling him off her nipple, Meg brought his mouth to hers, desperate to get a taste of her blood on his tongue. It was metallic with a hint of the coffee she could smell on him, and the mint from his toothpaste.
There was a commotion outside, and then the door opened. And older man stepped in, his conversation with the younger man behind him halted when he saw the bloody clothes on the floor, and the two blood covered bodies moving together on the bed. “Sam-”
Sam didn’t even turn, didn’t even look at the old man who knew what he smelt, knew what she was and was pulling out his gun. “I’m busy.” Sam growled, hand shooting up, palm towards them. They were hit with a blast and pushed back as the door slammed in their faces and locked.
“Mm. I think I like you like this.” Meg licked her lips.
One of Sam’s large hands grabbed Meg just under the jaw, tilting her head back a touch and holding her nose to nose with him. “Don’t get fucking use to it.”
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Tagging : Sam - @evyiione @skycat41 @rebelminxy @purplecatterpiller @stark-red19
Can I ask for 22 with sam and meg (just as friends?)
things you said after it was over
Meg watches Sam from across the room. He’s tense, naturally, all the time even if he’s loosened up around her lately. Sharing space in these motels is beginning to pay off. Hell, sometimes she just says what’s on her mind and he responds and she forgets that she possessed him once. Forgets that she hated him.
Sam stops pacing and tears his eyes away from the files in his hands.
“What?”
It sort of snaps. She remembers. She remembers feeling his pain. His guilt. His loneliness and abandonment. His compassion. There was so much good in him. So much faith. Being so close to it made her feel, for just a moment, something close to her own humanity. And, naturally, it scared the fuck out of her so she tried to snap his spine from the inside out.
Sam crosses his arms, a look of impatience on his face.
“What? What is it now?”
If they didn’t have the past they shared… who knows? They could have been friends. Real friends
“I’m.” Meg swallows and shakes out of it. “Nothing. Find anything on our missing rednecks?”
“Not much. There’s no connection between any of them so far.”
“No shared cousins?” His gaze flicks to her briefly. “Hm. Surprising.” She ends up watching him for a few more minutes before his arms cross again startling her into looking at the laptop.
“Meg. What is it?”
“Nothing. Just remembering. And I.” She smiles and shakes her head. It’s so stupid. This is the so stupid, she knows it doesn’t mean anything coming from her considering what she is and what she’s done. “You’re not the worst person to be stuck with. Keep thinkin’ that Dean could be here and I’d have to worry about getting ganked while my back was turned.”
Sam scoffs.
“You think I wouldn’t?”
Maybe they need her. Maybe they don’t. There’s an apology on the tip of her tongue that stumbles backward because she wouldn’t really mean it and Sam wouldn’t believe her if she did.
“C’mon Sam, you’re not havin’ a good time?” He ignores it and goes back to pacing.
Meg doesn’t watch him.
Instead, she keeps searching for something she’s lost interest in hours ago and murmurs a ‘sorry’ that Sam never hears.
You know, I was fine shipping Sabriel. In denial about it at first, then liked some posts and then went ‘fuck it’ and here became a side blog over a year go. Absolutely fine. Cute , wonderfull ship. Bit wierd considering I barely watch Spn, but I like the ship and I love a lot of the fanfiction.
Then I discovered that I quite liked the idea of Sam/Meg. The whole went dark and came back form it, and the dynamic and shared history. I still like Sabriel, but I looked up all (not many) Sam/Meg fanfic on Ao3 and then kindo f like it even more when I discovered the possibilty of Meg being Nephilim.
And then I saw that single bloody gifset of an au where Meg and Gabriel met with flirty dialogue. And thought yeah, runnig from their own kinds, a discrace to their race, meet in the middle. I like that.
It didn’t take ten minutes for me to decide I fancy the idea of the three of them. Unfortunatley I seem to be the only person. So here I am, having completly oudone myself with what’s rapidly on it’s way to an OT3 that no-oneelse seems ot have considered, let alone ships.
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I can't decide if "The Devil Within" by Digital Daggers fits Meg or Ruby better. "I'm gonna make you suffer / This hell you put me in" makes me think of Meg, obsessed with revenge after the exorcism. "You'll never know what hit you / Won't see me closing in" and the "I tried to be the lover to your nightmare" verse could both be her, too, but sounds more like Ruby thinking on her upcoming betrayal and her bitterness over how Sam would react to it (especially the "I'll make you see" -- she wanted to convince Sam that her way really was for the best). "I'm underneath your skin / The devil within" could fit both; Meg possessing Sam, Ruby's blood flowing through Sam's veins. The rest of the lyrics all sound like a toss-up, but damn, they sound like they could be perfect for either character.
This would be so much easier if they were the same character as I occasionally fanon. >:c
askboxmemes: 1) Give me a pairing. 2) Give me an AU setting. 3) I will write you a three-sentence fic.
"Should I be flattered you're paying so much for one night with me?" Meg asked dryly, arching an eyebrow as she lay on the freshly debauched sheets.
Sam shrugged and tugged on his pants, struggling not to tear them back off at the sight of her lithe body stretching out before him. "I think you're worth it, Meg."
