FIC - Small World
Title: Small World
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairings: Sam/OFCs, Sam/OMCs, RoboSam/Crowley
Summary: So, he’s got a thing for diversity. Whatever.
A/N: Written for the prompt: because he/she is from one of the countries you haven't had sex with a person from yet for the 50 Reasons To Have Sex Fic Fest
Taking the trip down memory lane was unexpected, but somehow satisfying.
Sam remembered when it all started, his senior year of high school, barely seventeen and not a virgin but also not exactly an encyclopedia of sexual experience. There was something about her, the exchange student from Costa Rica who’d landed in three of his classes. She wasn’t a conventional beauty, but she was whip-smart, and her accent made his head spin. That one afternoon cutting World Civilizations so he could fuck her against the brick wall of the back of the art building…well, it was fantastic, but he had no idea at the time what the consequences would be.
Eight months later, trying to find his way around campus at Stanford, Sam met a lovely young lady with a fascinating Eastern European accent and a pair of bright blue Doc Martens. After half an hour studying a campus map, the girl (who was, by the way, from Ukraine) set off to get a coffee with him and ended up on her knees, sucking him off in the stairwell of his dorm. He didn’t remember her name, and he never saw her again.
One of the many opportunities he didn’t realize he’d find quite so satisfying about attending a prestigious university was that he’d meet people from all over the world. As it turned out, Sam had a thing. He even kept track. Before Thanksgiving, he’d given his first blow job to a guy from England he met in a freshman biology study group. Over the Christmas holiday, when the campus was nearly deserted, he brought a girl from Egypt back to his room and spent two days experimenting with every sexual position and act either of them could come up with. Over spring break, Sam spent one very memorable night with a petite dark-haired Italian professor who’d initiated a conversation with him due to her being impressed with his knowledge of Latin despite not having been raised Catholic or gone to a private school. In the middle of the night, as they were taking a breather, she asked why he learned it. He told her he had to learn when he was a kid so he could exorcise demons, and she laughed and laughed.
Then there was Jessica. Beautiful, perfect, wonderful Jess who he loved with all his heart, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Jess, whose family had been in America since the Mayflower. She’d taken drama classes in high school, though, and indulged his whims with the occasional role-play, made even more exciting by her fluency in three languages.
And before he knew it, she was gone, and he was back on the road. There was no thought to forming another romantic relationship, but he still engaged in more one-night stands than his brother ever found out about.
The one case where they’d hooked up with a different breed of hunters, Sam had held an Asian woman with a distinct Wales accent against the wall of their motel room, her tiny legs around his waist as he fucked her senseless while his brother was still at the bar with her partners. He counted her as Wales and Japan in that secret little part of his brain that was still keeping track.
While Dean was…gone, he had occasion to be tied up and gagged by a gorgeous woman from Norway who got on top of him and rode his dick on the floor of her apartment after he’d rid the town of a skinwalker. A restless spirit brought him to New Orleans, where he gladly took the cock of a young Haitian man up his ass after he finished the job, reveling in the lilting accent of the filth he spewed into Sam’s ear while his face was pushed into a pillow.
And then there was Ruby. He never bothered to wonder where her new vessel was from. He just listened to her, and formulated his plan, and drank her blood, and had a thousand different kinds of sex with her, and enjoyed his new powers.
Of course, it all came crashing down. Didn’t it always? He had Dean back, and for a very long time, he could only think that there was nothing else he wanted.
And then the angels. And then more demons. Some friendly, some not so much. But the one who trumped them all, the one who brought Sam down, was the demon-angel who claimed Sam as his own. The one Sam had willingly given himself to, because he thought he was stronger. Stronger than Lucifer. Phosphorus, the bringer of Light. Maybe Sam could count him as Greek.
Not that he remembered his centuries with the devil. He knew only that he wasn’t in Hell, he was on Earth, and he was missing something he’d had before he left.
When Crowley approached him within weeks of his return, well before Sam had gone to fetch his brother, there was something…it took him a minute to get it. Scotland. Yes, that was it. Scotland had not been checked off the list. Yet.
“I always thought one of you Winchesters would be the death of me”, Crowley breathed into the million-thread-count sheets of his bed, while Sam was still on top of him, still inside of him. “Not like this, though. Thought your brother might do some buggering, but you, Sam…I figured you for a missionary-position-with-the-lights-off kind of bloke.”
Sam knocked him unconscious, got up, dressed himself, and made his way back to his beautiful new car.
American car.
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairings: Sam/OFCs, Sam/OMCs, RoboSam/Crowley
Summary: So, he’s got a thing for diversity. Whatever.
A/N: Written for the prompt: because he/she is from one of the countries you haven't had sex with a person from yet for the 50 Reasons To Have Sex Fic Fest
Taking the trip down memory lane was unexpected, but somehow satisfying.
Sam remembered when it all started, his senior year of high school, barely seventeen and not a virgin but also not exactly an encyclopedia of sexual experience. There was something about her, the exchange student from Costa Rica who’d landed in three of his classes. She wasn’t a conventional beauty, but she was whip-smart, and her accent made his head spin. That one afternoon cutting World Civilizations so he could fuck her against the brick wall of the back of the art building…well, it was fantastic, but he had no idea at the time what the consequences would be.
Eight months later, trying to find his way around campus at Stanford, Sam met a lovely young lady with a fascinating Eastern European accent and a pair of bright blue Doc Martens. After half an hour studying a campus map, the girl (who was, by the way, from Ukraine) set off to get a coffee with him and ended up on her knees, sucking him off in the stairwell of his dorm. He didn’t remember her name, and he never saw her again.
One of the many opportunities he didn’t realize he’d find quite so satisfying about attending a prestigious university was that he’d meet people from all over the world. As it turned out, Sam had a thing. He even kept track. Before Thanksgiving, he’d given his first blow job to a guy from England he met in a freshman biology study group. Over the Christmas holiday, when the campus was nearly deserted, he brought a girl from Egypt back to his room and spent two days experimenting with every sexual position and act either of them could come up with. Over spring break, Sam spent one very memorable night with a petite dark-haired Italian professor who’d initiated a conversation with him due to her being impressed with his knowledge of Latin despite not having been raised Catholic or gone to a private school. In the middle of the night, as they were taking a breather, she asked why he learned it. He told her he had to learn when he was a kid so he could exorcise demons, and she laughed and laughed.
Then there was Jessica. Beautiful, perfect, wonderful Jess who he loved with all his heart, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Jess, whose family had been in America since the Mayflower. She’d taken drama classes in high school, though, and indulged his whims with the occasional role-play, made even more exciting by her fluency in three languages.
And before he knew it, she was gone, and he was back on the road. There was no thought to forming another romantic relationship, but he still engaged in more one-night stands than his brother ever found out about.
The one case where they’d hooked up with a different breed of hunters, Sam had held an Asian woman with a distinct Wales accent against the wall of their motel room, her tiny legs around his waist as he fucked her senseless while his brother was still at the bar with her partners. He counted her as Wales and Japan in that secret little part of his brain that was still keeping track.
While Dean was…gone, he had occasion to be tied up and gagged by a gorgeous woman from Norway who got on top of him and rode his dick on the floor of her apartment after he’d rid the town of a skinwalker. A restless spirit brought him to New Orleans, where he gladly took the cock of a young Haitian man up his ass after he finished the job, reveling in the lilting accent of the filth he spewed into Sam’s ear while his face was pushed into a pillow.
And then there was Ruby. He never bothered to wonder where her new vessel was from. He just listened to her, and formulated his plan, and drank her blood, and had a thousand different kinds of sex with her, and enjoyed his new powers.
Of course, it all came crashing down. Didn’t it always? He had Dean back, and for a very long time, he could only think that there was nothing else he wanted.
And then the angels. And then more demons. Some friendly, some not so much. But the one who trumped them all, the one who brought Sam down, was the demon-angel who claimed Sam as his own. The one Sam had willingly given himself to, because he thought he was stronger. Stronger than Lucifer. Phosphorus, the bringer of Light. Maybe Sam could count him as Greek.
Not that he remembered his centuries with the devil. He knew only that he wasn’t in Hell, he was on Earth, and he was missing something he’d had before he left.
When Crowley approached him within weeks of his return, well before Sam had gone to fetch his brother, there was something…it took him a minute to get it. Scotland. Yes, that was it. Scotland had not been checked off the list. Yet.
“I always thought one of you Winchesters would be the death of me”, Crowley breathed into the million-thread-count sheets of his bed, while Sam was still on top of him, still inside of him. “Not like this, though. Thought your brother might do some buggering, but you, Sam…I figured you for a missionary-position-with-the-lights-off kind of bloke.”
Sam knocked him unconscious, got up, dressed himself, and made his way back to his beautiful new car.
American car.