VeinsOfAsh

Word Count: 673

Warnings: Sammy is lovestruck, FLUFFFF, mentions of Sammy wanting a soft life

Plot: You and Sam have a day to yourselves, and you decide to go to the local farmer’s market.

A/N: This summer weather is making me CRAVEEEE a little day out. This is also, unabashedly, based on me and my real-life partner. He has the heart of Sammy Winchester, let me tell ya <3

we already saw sex workers inside margot’s business. and all the everyday zaunites working inside the chembaron’s places and factories, did they all call out sick that day? the kids too?

it's weird to argue that only silco's goons could have been hurt when we've already established that children & civilians are employed by the chembarons and reside in those same businesses.

we also later see zaunites praying openly to Janna, the goddess said to bring clean air. that's also shown to us on purpose... and when do we see Janna next? when jinx confronts vi about gassing zaun. just because something is “strategic” (lol) at first doesn't mean there isn’t fallout.

this civilian looks like he’s coughing into a napkin. why else would they show us these scenes.

even though she tries very hard to be smart and independent and he just loves making her completely dependent on him. in and out of bed. praising her so nice and doting on her till she lets the dad/daddy title slip out . #needthat

okay i have another ask that’s very similar to this one so i’m going to kill two birds with one stone here lol.

sam lovessss a younger gf i don’t really make the rules but he does. it’s either years older or years younger there is no in between bc he’s in it… and if his gf is just a little too independent it infuriates him because he loves loves loves taking care of you so much. he feels kind of useless if he isn’t doing something for you despite how much you seem to be able to handle your own.

he really likes it when you get upset like this in his own weird way, when you come to him because you’re just a blubbering mess and don’t know what to do because you’d never been able to regulate yourself too well. he steps up like any good man should.

sam holds at your waist, gently bringing you into his lap and letting you lay on top of him while you sob. his large hand rubs at your back, cooing softly and kissing at your temple. “what’s wrong, sweetheart?” he says, that low, almost gravelly whisper filling your ears through your sniffles. you shake your head and shrug, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face into him. you feel like a small child, curled into his warm embrace protectively. “i-i don’t know. i feel like- like shit.”

he doesn’t try to press about it, just smooths your hair out of your face and brushes a thumb against your earlobe. “yeah?” he exhales. “hon’, maybe you’re really tired. you’ve been out and about the entire week.” that’s true. every day you leave early and come late, sleep in your shared bed with your back turned in fetal position. he knows because he always wakes up to your body rustling under the covers after a close to 2am shower.

you scoff through sniffles and blurred vision. “no, that’s not it. i’d never cry for something so stupid.”

gently, he pulls your head from out of his neck and forces you to look up at him. your eyes are puffy and bloodshot, every scrunch of your nose is that of a bunny. “come on.” he sighs, brushing a stray tear from your cheek and cradling your face. he takes in your trembling lip, eyes squinting through sensitive pupils while the artificial light above sinks in. you can’t help but burst into tears again. he just looks at you in such a kind, knowing way, like he’s telling you he understands even though he has no idea why the hell you’re crying in the first place.

you let him pepper your face with kisses, sweet pecks over your wet cheeks as you sob like a baby. it would be humiliating with anyone else, but sam isn’t just anyone else.

“it’s okay to be upset, sweetheart.” he murmurs against your skin, leaning his head away to stare at you. you nod somewhat, rubbing your eyes with the backs of your hands. you’re tired now, eyes heavy behind your skull. he can tell. he pulls you back in, leaning back against the mattress while you nestle against his chest again, cheek firmly pressed at his pecs. he brushes his fingers into your hair, kissing the top of your head.

“feel better?” he whispers. you hum softly, a croaky noise from the bottom of your throat. “yeah.. thanks, dad.” it’s an absentminded slip of the tongue. you didn’t mean it, and you don’t register it until sam kind of makes a weird noise. “..dad?” his hand stills and he twists his head to look at you. you furrow your brows, looking up at him. “what?”

baby

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☆ He always planned to fuck you on the hood of his baby. At least once. You’d thought it was being swept up in the moment, how a late night drive where you went dancing down a backroad in the headlights just so happened to turn into him pinning you to the hood of the car. But Dean had been thinking about it more than he’d cared to admit. You bent in half across smooth black metal. Legs pinned and tits bouncing as he rammed himself home, cock spearing you in half and moans echoing off the night sky. You didn’t tell him the drive had been your idea for a reason. That the sight of him basked in moonlight with guilt driven praise falling from his lips with every snap of his hips had been why you’d just so happened to turn him down an empty back lane.

☆ But it isn’t always planned. Sometimes it’s quick. Frustrated with a case? Only one motel room available? Deans pulling over and yanking you out, bending you’d over the backseat or you’re on your knees with his cock down your throat. He says you have to have the door open for space. So you can be quick. But he likes the thrill of it. He likes that he’s the only one who can see you, hidden behind the door pussy bare and glistening or big wide eyes looking up at him when he’s balls deep in your mouth. He likes that more than once you’ve almost got caught and he’s managed to style it out even when you refused to let him pull out. And he likes that you like it just as much to agree with his excuses.

☆ And he likes to tease you, hand drifting over to the passenger seat and up under your skirt only to find your bare pussy pressed against the leather. You don’t know how he can keep two eyes on the road when he’s got two fingers buried inside you and the heel of his hand grinding against your clit. Like you’re sitting beside him reading a case or something. Like it isn’t broad daylight. Like you’re not putting your feet up on the dash to let him go deeper. Like he never noticed the man who swerved across two lanes when he clocked you in his rear view. But he keeps his cool because doesn’t care about any of that because all that matters to you in that moment is him.

☆ Naturally you show more restraint. Or you wait until it’s dark at least. Two lane black top with not a soul around and you’re suddenly pawing at his belt and burying his cock in your throat. He doesn’t slow down, if anything his foot hits the gas a little harder with every hollow of your cheeks and swirl of his leaking cockhead. And when he cums it’s with his hand fisted in your hair, your head held in place as he unloads on your tongue. You know to protect the seats.

☆ And sometimes it isn’t even supposed to happen. He truly isn’t even thinking of it. But in those moments, when he’s tired or angry you climb into his lap. You listen and nod along. You make him feel better. Then you kiss him. Slow, languid. Peppered along his jaw whilst his hands knead your ass. And suddenly all bets are off. He’s hardly out of his pants and you’re just pushing your panties to the side but it’s enough. Frantic, thighs burning, head back watching you work. A tangle of limbs and rumpled clothes and an occasional honk of a horn before you’re both spent and whatever was wrong with him has long since left his head.

☆ But most of the time he has fun with it. Like the time he pulled you into the back seat, thighs spread either side of his, your back against his chest and the rear view mirror angled just so he could see where the two of you met. You’d whimpered and moaned and begged but he’d refused to touch you until he saw you creaming his cock, a mess of him and you running down his thighs in a way that Sam would no doubt bitch about if he ever knew. He’d made it up to you though, keeping you full and happy whilst his fingers worked against you, his whispers sweet and encouraging as he watched you fall apart in the reflection of the mirror.

☆ But usually leaves slow for the bunker or a motel. Makes the most of having a bed and some time together. But sometimes, even when there isn’t time, he makes it. He lays you down on the back seat and drapes himself over you. He kisses every inch of skin and makes you cum on his tongue before he’s back, burying himself in you with a plea and whimper, your legs wrapped around his waist like you’re scared he might float away. And then when he’s done he lays on your chest. Legs crumpled against the door awkwardly, swear soaked skin shivering as the temperature starts to dip. He says it’s because he’s appreciating the assets but it’s because he can feel your heartbeat from here. Strong, steady, and somehow in love with him.

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notes: missing him bad today

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or maybe you're embarrassed about the loud moaning and wet sounds that spill out of the flat behind him, porno still playing full volume on the TV.

in the midst of a heatwave and thinking about simon riley coming home from base, finding you in your bikini in the paddling pool in the garden, ciggie in one hand, canned cocktail in another, and immediately getting so hard he pulls you out of the pool and fucks you on the grass next to it, bikini bottoms hooked to the side so he can slip inside your sopping cunt.

yeah, the neighbours can see, but they don't mind, they're too busy jerking off to the sight of you getting railed by the terrifying guy that lives next door.