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You sighed. Maybe a little too loud but at the moment, you didn't care. Dean went on a beer run, leaving you in the motel room alone...with him. You've taken your gun apart and put it back together five times just for hell of it.
"You know," his voice just seemed like nails on a chalkboard ever since you found out he didn't have a soul. "You were really stupid on the hunt tonight."
You chuckled to yourself, out of annoyance really. "I honestly don't care what you have to say." You replied, standing to your feet and placing your gun back in your duffle.
"Well, you should," Sam rebutted. "If I hadn't shown up, you would have been vamp meat, for sure."
You growled lightly, turning your back to him. This wasn't Sam. Well, not really. The real Sam would never say such things because he would have known that you already knew what mistakes you made. The real Sam would have just hugged you and whispered that it was okay even if it wasn't.
It was true though, you supposed. You did get trapped by a very dominant male vampire, his fangs nearly nipping into the skin of your neck and just waiting to suck the very life from your body.
But Sam showed up, slicing it's head off with ease before it got the chance to taste your blood. You remember gasping as you saw the pissed off look on Sam's face as it came into view after the head fell. You composed yourself and pushed past him, mumbling a thank you.
Your recollections of the hunt left your mind preoccupied. So preoccupied that you didn't notice a large (very large) presence behind you. You quickly turned when you felt his breath on your neck.
"You save me one time and you think I owe some big show of thank you." You grumble, walking away from him only to have him grip your upper arm tightly.
He had a disgusting, shit-eating smirk on his face when you turned to look at him. "See, the thing is: I'm always saving you. You wouldn't survive without my help." He rambled.
Anger sparked through you rather quickly. "I was just fine long before you and Dean came into the picture. I'd say I did pretty damn good on my own before you two ever showed up." You sneered in his face. You ripped your arm from his grip, sure there would be a prominent bruise from where he held you.
"Yeah, right." Sam laughed as you walked away.
You quickly turned back to him, walking back to stand up in his face. "I think you've forgotten that I can have you on your ass in two-point-five seconds, Sam." You snarled, your eyes raging with a fire that could of killed him if you tried hard enough.
"You wouldn't da-" but you cut him off...with a quick (hard) punch to the nose, a cheeky knee to the groin and the wrapping of your foot behind his knee to pull his feet from underneath him. He landed on his back on the rough carpet with a loud groan and his hands cupping his assaulted manhood, also nursing his bleeding nose.
You were fixing to speak before Dean walked in, two six packs under his arms and a bag that had the name of a burger joint on it. He started saying something but stopped when he saw Sam on the ground in a heaping mess.
"What the hell is going on?!"
That was the last thing you heard before you grabbed your jacket and briskly walked out of the motel room. You found yourself in a bar across the street, nose deep in whiskey shots.
You were in the middle of taking another when you saw from the corner of your eye, Dean take a seat on the barstool beside you. He held a look of both confusion and understanding on his face as he called for the bartender, ordering a shot for himself.
"I'm not going to make up excuses for Sam. I think he deserved a broken nose and a kick in the balls." Dean said.
You were going to laugh but, "wait, I broke his nose?" You asked. Dean only nodded before tipping the content of the tiny glass into his mouth, gulping it down without a grimace.
Good, you thought.
"I don't know, Dean. Maybe it would be better if I just hit the road, did my own thing." Just the thought made your heart wrench and an uncomfortable sickness to lurch in your stomach.
"Now, don't go makin' rash decisions like that. You know we need you, I need you." Dean replied quickly, looking at you with a look of vast seriousness.
You felt the tears prick your eyes but you tried your best to hold them back. "But, he said he's always saving me. He's right, I'm no good for you guys." You felt like you were going to be sick saying those words.
"(Y/N), that's not Sammy. You know that." Dean reminded you, his own look of hurt resting on his tired face, wrapping an arm around your shaking shoulders.
That made it harder for the tears to be held by the cracked dam so you let them fall, sniffling then taking another shot. Your eyes became bleared and you felt like you just wanted to crawl away some where dark and never come out.
"I know," you whispered, voice broken. "I just-" you had to stop to wipe your tears away with the sleeve of your shirt. "I just miss him, Dean."
"I know," Dean looked at you with a look that almost mirrored yours, minus the tears as he pulled you closer to him. He understood though. He knew the relationship you and Sam shared before he went dark side. "I know."
That only made it worse for you. That, and the whiskey.
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The morning after the incident with Sam, you three hit the road en route to your next case. You remember Sam murmuring a shit apology from the front seat in the impala, a little nasally due to the white gauze covering his broken nose.
You only rolled your eyes behind your sunglasses, a massive hangover making it impossible to say anything back without snapping at him so you just let it go and stared out the window. You knew somewhere deep, deep down in Sam that he was sorry but you weren't going to let that wall down easily.
For the next few weeks, you tired avoiding Sam at all costs, hurt longing in your bones for the way he was before. You stuck by Dean's side for the majority of the hunts, annoyed when he told you to go with Sam a few times.
But your world was quickly turned upside down and twisted when Dean said he found a way to get Sam's soul back. You felt faint, like you were going to pass out.
He explained. You only got a few words because your brain has honestly turned to mush as all sorts of thoughts ran through it.
Lucifer's cage. Death. Play a Reaper for a day. Sam.
Right now, you were standing with Bobby in the basement, watching guard while Sam was tied down to a bed in the panic room. Your heart was beating a million miles per hour as your feet shuffled you across the basement floor, chewing on your thumb fingernail.
When you heard Dean, you knew it was happening.
"Bobby! Open the door!"
"What happened?" Bobby asked.
"Now!" Dean roared, walking quickly towards the panic room. And when you entered, you felt like you were going to be sick.
There stood Death, a bag in his hands as he sat on the edge of the bed Sam was bound to. Sam was screaming, making your body feel like jello as he pulled violently at his restraints.
"Get away from me! Don't. Don't!"
You, Dean, and Bobby watched from the doorway as the reaper opened his bag, a bright blue light shining from it. Sam's soul.
"Now Sam, I'm going to put up a barrier inside your mind." The reaper spoke in a solemn voice.
"No, don't touch me!" Sam begged.
"It may feel a little itchy. Do me a favor, don't scratch the wall because trust me, you're not going to like what happens."
"Please," Sam begged further, looking right at his brother with pleading eyes but turned back when Death held the bright light in his hands. "Dean, you don't know! You don't know what'll happen. Please, no, no, noOOOOO-"
Sam's scream was blood curdling and you felt it radiate through your entire body as the reaper shoved the light into Sam. Tears leaked from your eyes at the sight, quickly shutting them and turning to shove yourself against Bobby's side to prevent yourself from seeing anything further.
Many, many hours later, Sam was still knocked out. Catching up on the sleep he hadn't been getting at all. You and Dean were in the living room, looking at an old chalkboard where Dean had drawn a building and stick figures with horns and spiked tails on them to represent the demons guarding the doors.
"We have to go through this door."
"Dean, we're not just gonna dive head first into a pit of demons."
"It's the only way!"
"No, it's the dumb way! Not the only way."
"Well, what's your way, Miss I-know-better-than-Dean-Winchester?"
"Oh, bite me! I think we should-"
A very loud clearing throat broke you two up, Sam standing at the door way between the den and kitchen. You two quickly shut up, staring at the younger Winchester with large eyes and confused expressions.
You stammered on your words but stopped when Sam took four very large strides towards you, crashing his lips onto yours with much ferocity behind them. You gasped into the kiss, soon closing your eyes and melting against him.
After what seemed like years (at least to Dean it felt like that because he play gagged and pretending to tie a noose), you two broke apart. Your eyes met Sam's, noticing that look. The look that told you that was your Sam.
"Okay," you said, clearing your throat, feeling heat collect on the apples of your cheeks. Your gaze never broke his though, loving the small smile on his lips. Sam's smile.
After that, Sam said he was hungry. Really hungry. So he filled up on sandwiches he made from the supplies in Bobby's kitchen, groaning as he did. You left him and Dean to talk, taking purchase in a room upstairs.
Your mind was reeling, feeling like it was going to short out if you didn't lay down. Sam was back to normal. Well, as normal as he could get what with having no soul then having it forcefully shoved back into his body.
You lied on the bed after taking two Advil for the raging headache you had going on. The scratchy blankets felt unexplainably soft against your exposed arms and legs. It then occurred to you that you hadn't slept since you left the panic room. You don't even remember falling asleep, just falling into a comfortable black state.
It wasn't until you felt the left side of the bed sink with additional weight did you wake up, eyes blurred until they focused on the clothed back you'd ran your hands up and down many times.
"Sam?" You whispered, not trusting your sleep-filled voice. He didn't turn to look at you like you had expected, only sat there in silence.
"I'm sorry," his voice was low and slightly-broken. It sounded like he was about to cry and you quickly found yourself darting off the bed to sink to your knees in front of his slouched figure.
"Sorry for what?" You asked, searching for his gaze but he continued to look at his hands in his lap.
His face scrunched up in disgust, with himself you guessed.
"Tell me, talk to me," you whispered, reaching up to cup his face in your shaky hands, making him look into your eyes. When he did, your breathing hitched. His eyes were glossed over, tears threatening to fall any second.
You listened as he tried to control his breathing. "For the way I treated you, I was so nasty and all those women-"
You remember Dean saying "the wall" would block all Sam's memories of hell but not all the other things that happened after he was sprung from the cage.
"Shh, shh, shh," you cooed to him, nudging his knees apart so you could scoot closer to him. "That wasn't you, Sam. I know you wouldn't do that." You told him.
"But it was me! Just not me-" He rambled, the tears now falling down his cheeks. You kissed them away sweetly, whispering to him to calm down and breath. You kissed his trembling lips, trying to kiss away the pain he was feeling.
You felt him reach down to grip your hips in his strong hands, pulling you up onto his lap. His lips pressed harder against yours, frenzy and longing. He wrapped his arms around your waist, crushing you farther against him.
You let a moan slipped from your open mouth as he ground his hips up against you, showing you that he wanted, needed you. You knew he was tired, could feel it radiate from him. "You don't have to-" you tried saying after you softly pulled away.
"Please," he pleaded. "I want to. Let me make it up to you."
You couldn't deny the look in his eyes. That look of desperation and just pure want.
"Okay," your voice was smaller than you had expected. You wiped away the fresh tears from his cheeks, your thumbs swiping gingerly under his eyes. You felt like you had been set alight, drifting and falling into Sam's arms like it was a safe haven of some sort.
It didn't take long for your shirt and jeans to be torn from your body, leaving you in only a pair of black cotton panties. You moaned as Sam's mouth littered your chest and shoulders with open-mouthed kisses, his tongue dancing across your naked skin as your fingers tangled into his hair to bring him closer.
You noticed that he didn't release you to take off his own clothes, only pulled you closer against his chest to stand up and place you in the center of the mattress, your head resting on the pillows. You could feel the fire rumble in your stomach, nerves bunching up inside you.
"Sam," you whimpered when he wasn't in close proximity, standing at the foot of the bed to take off his flannel to reveal a grey v-neck under it. His eyes met yours as he climbed back on the bed, grabbing your knees to push your legs apart.
"I'm right here," he whispered, laying on his stomach with his head between your thighs, spread apart with his fingers digging into the soft flesh of the inner portions of them.
When you felt his lips against your cloth-covered heat, you jumped almost violently. It had been so long, far too long and it was causing you to tense up. "It's only me, just me and you," you heard him say, breath fanning out and causing your skin to pucker immediately.
You nodded, reaching down to pull off the last article of clothing that shielded you from Sam's eyes, sending him a nervous smile when you tossed the material to the side. You relaxed back against the bed and waited for what was coming.
And when it did, you couldn't stop the train of sounds that erupted from your throat and filled the room. Sam's mouth was hot and wet against you, making your body pulse and jerk against him.
Sam's tongue assaulted your clit, not hesitating to lick and lap at you like he had a thirst only you could quench, a hunger inside him that only you could satisfy. He wrapped his hands around your hips tightly, holding you down as he delivered your body the pleasure you'd longed for.
The back of your thighs rested on his shoulders, cradling his head between them as your heels dug into his back. You could feel the muscles move under his shirt and you wanted to wrap yourself all around him, feel him all over.
"Oh, fuck," you moaned, throwing your head back and arching your back as his tongue moved quicker against you, his groans reverberating into your tender skin. Your hands gripped desperately at the quilt under you, the pleasure making your body feel hot and ready to fall apart.
You could feel the familiar feeling, a feeling you hadn't felt in what felt like forever, coil inside of you and teeter on the edge of snapping. And when Sam wrapped his lips around your throbbing bundle of nerves, it was like your body shattered into a billion pieces.
Your orgasm ripped through you like a sharp blade but instead of pain, all you could feel was feather-like pleasure cover your body as you screamed out. You thrashed and moaned, begging and pleading for Sam as he nursed you through your release.
You were wet, so unbelievably ready for the man who climbed over your body when you slumped against the mattress. You wrapped your legs around his jean-clad hips, the rough denim rubbing against your sensitive center, crying out in a pitiful way as it did.
Sam's eyes met yours, his face flushed and his breathing labored as he examined your emotional features. You hadn't noticed the tears in your eyes until Sam swiped your cheek with the rough pad of his thumb where one had fallen.
"You're beautiful." His voice was low, filled with traces of lust and something else in the two words as he spoke like they were being etched in gold. He placed a gentle kiss on your lips, close-lipped and short.
You found the bottom hem of his shirt, tearing it up his chest and over his head, tossing it carelessly as his chiseled body came to view. Your lips met his left clavicle bone, sucking the skin covering it to leave a light purple mark on his skin.
In the flash of an eye, his jeans and boxers were gone, piled on the foot of the bed as he gripped your outer thighs in his hands, his naked flesh skimming yours as he took position between them.
"Please, Sam," your voice was shot as you pleaded, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck and your heels digging into the base of his back and bring him down against you more.
Sam Winchester didn't need to be told twice, harder than he's ever been for you. He gripped himself gently in one hand, using the other to spread you legs enough to slowly sink further between your thighs.
You gasped out, slamming your eyes shut. You could feel the slow, burning stretch as he filled you slowly, reminding you exactly how long it truly had been. "Look at me," Sam choked out, composing himself from going too fast, too soon.
And you obeyed, opening your eyes enough to look up at him. Your mouth hung open and your breathing was shallow. Your body shook with anticipation, your arms wrapping around his shoulders to calm yourself as he filled you to the brim.
"I'm sorry, I'm-" he was apologizing again for his actions when he was a soulless man, you knew that. Sam pulled out once he was fully inside and bucked into you for the first time that night and your eyes rolled back. "Sorry."
You shook your head and gripped his back, nails digging into the taunt skin for some sort of anchor to hold you down in the sea of Sam you were floating askew in. He filled all your senses: your sense of touch, ability to see, sense of smell, your hearing and your sense of taste. Sam was all could think about and all other things melted away without a second thought.
Sam. Sam!
"I've missed you," he groaned, thrusting into you a little harder. "You're so wet, always so wet." And you could hear it, too. The sound of your bodies meeting was enough to send your body into overdrive, the sharp, repetitive slaaaap of skin-on-skin contact and the vulgar squelch of him entering and leaving you was too much.
However, "don't stop," you found yourself saying, unable to control your words. "Please, Sammy, don't fucking stop." You begged, eyes locking with his as you licked your lips, noticing how dry your mouth had become and your hands gripping his face lovingly.
"Wouldn't dream of it, never gonna stop." God, his words seemed to shoot through you like a bullet, ripping your body apart in the best of ways. You could feel the sheer layer of sweat cover both of you as you bucked up against his working pelvis.
You felt the pillow dip above your head as he pushed his hands into it, driving into you with everything he had, giving you what you both needed. And then you felt it, his rock hard cock push against that spot inside you that made your toes curl and you moans falter.
"T-There," you gasped. "Oh, my--fuuuuck, right there!"
Your body was moving uncontrollably, hips crashing against Sam with an unhindered and wild force. You threw your hands out to the sides, gripping for anything in reach but stopped when Sam gripped them in his larger ones to bring them above your head, finger interlocking.
"Look at me, l-look right at me." His voice shook with his own pleasure. "I wanna see those eyes when you come, missed 'em so much, baby,"
Fuck, this was too much. Far too much. You could feel the ache in your body, flying so high that when you fall, you're bound to break entirely. You weren't sure if you could take it: how good Sam felt inside you as he pounding relentlessly, the tone of his voice and the endearing, down-right longing expression in his eyes as his gaze searched for yours.
Your Sam.
But you did once again, eyes meeting his. And that's when you found yourself saying it: "I don't t-think--too much, Sammy," you gritted out, honest to god tears falling from your eyes as you screamed out when he hit that godforsaken spot once again. You were a blathering mess.
"I know you can, come for me," he whispered to you, motions not once faltering as he delivered quick, deeeeep thrusts. "Come just for me."
And that's all it took, Sam's words of encourage, his burning gaze and his falling hips, to send you right over the edge, arching your back so much that your torso touched his. You could have sworn you saw the light, pleasure ripping through you and leaving burning trails all throughout your body, ending in your fingertips and toes.
You chanted his name like it was part of a sacred ritual you'd done a million times, your voice low, so low it was almost inaudible but Sam heard.
"That's it," *thrust* "so goddamn beautiful," *thrust* "all for me, yeeees." *thruuust*
You have no idea how long your orgasm lasted but you snapped out of your daze when you felt the sputter and broken rhythm of Sam's hips. He placed hot kisses all over your face, lips tasting the tears that stained your cheeks.
"You wanna make it up to me?" You asked, voice a mere whisper, tired from your release. You noticed the confused expression on his face as his hips shuttered and his mouth fell open, nodding his head quickly. "Then come for me."
You heard a growl as he buried his face in the crook of your neck and hands grip your slack hips harshly. He was pounding to his release, making you shiver and wrap your arms around his neck, cradling him as he cried out for you.
"I wanna feel it, Sam, give it to me. All of it." You voice shook, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. You felt his teeth sink into the flesh of your neck, biting just hard enough to bring blood just under the surface but not break the skin. "Come on, Sammy! Come on, baby."
You felt a warmth fill you up as Sam released inside you, buried to the hilt. He moaned your name over and over again as he released in thick, hot spurts. His hips slowed and delivered shallow bucks as he rode out his high, pulling out slowly and slumping down against you after he was done.
His tired body was solid and heavy against you but you didn't dare complain, loving the feeling of Sam's sweat-slick skin against yours. You ran your hands through his hair, damp and thick between your fingers as you placed a tender kiss on his forehead.
His breathing was low and very labored as he littered your neck and jawline with sweet pecks, tongue occasionally snaking out to lick at your salt-slick skin. The silence was warm and comfortable as you both basked in the post-highs, hands running over each other and lips kissing the spans of skin they could reach.
"Thank you."
You smiled at Sam's words, placing your index finger under his chin to bring his lips to yours, kissing him with what energy you had left, giving all you had left to him. His lips were almost frenzied, ready to drink you up and swallowed you down like a shot of the best alcohol.
You frowned as he climbed off you, laying down on his side next to you. He noticed and wrapped his arm around you, signaling for you to turn on your side as well. You did and smiled when he pressed himself against the back of your body.
You sighed when he placed gentle kisses wherever his lips landed, reaching behind him to retrieve a blanket. He draped it over your bodies, nuzzling his face in your hair as he let sleep finally over take him.
And you laid there, listening to his steady breathing, the sounds he made and reveling in the feeling of his puffing and falling chest against your back. A tired smile filled your lips when a chain of snores left his mouth, arms gripping around you tighter as if it were instinct.
"Thank you, Sam."