Prompt: Businessman!Sam AU, a variation of the one I wrote in The Babysitter. The reader feels uncomfortable being surrounded by his high class colleagues, so Sam tries his best to make her feel a little better about being stuck at a tedious business dinner.
Character: Sam x Reader Reader Gender: female Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: Language, smutty goodness, a little PDA, dirty talking/rough/possessive/dom!Sam (give me a minute here), orgasm denial, I said the word “daddy” like once. let me know if I forgot anything else!
A/N: This is filth and I’m sorry. But I’ll admit right now, I’d let this version of Sam completely fucking destroy me. No shame. Dom!Sam girls, unite. And PLEASE tag me in your smut appreciation day fics!@fvckinpayno vs @balthazars-muse – let’s fucking gooo.
I think by the end of the episode , it was clear. The Amara thing is non consensual, Sam letting Dean know it’s ok, and not his fault, and the other message. Heart. Who Do You Love (I kept seeing that next to the title of this episode, was it a working title or alternate title, or subtitle?) Either way by Dean making it clear the hold is NOT LOVE OR DESIRE answers that question. Who does he really love. Cas. The heart theme is too strong with Dean lately and making it clear his heart is NOT pining for Amara, it has to be pining for someone and the only other person that makes any sense is Cas. (I seriously doubt it’s an ex) So while I try so hard to get through these weird episodes with Amara or other things that seem to be tearing Destiel apart, I actually think they’re doing the opposite and maybe, just maybe, this will all end with our Destiel hearts being filled.
Dean Winchester is very important to me, if you couldn’t tell. And from the minute Amara showed up, I have not been happy. I am not a fan, to say the least. And if you also couldn’t tell, I’m a pretty big Destiel shipper. So to me, this whole Amara business is bullshit. It’s predictable on the writers’ part, and it’s annoying as hell. But from what we just saw at the end of 11x13, I have some new ideas.
Dean says, “call it desire, call it love, but it’s not that.” The way he describes her, as wanting to kill her and end her when he’s not around her, but feeling this indisputable, unstoppable attraction when he’s with her leads me to believe that Amara is less of a love interest and more of a personification of an addiction or a toxic relationship. Dean wants to end her. He wants to get rid of her. But he can’t. Because he’s addicted. In a toxic relationship, you often want to end it, to cut the person out. But you can’t. Because your mind needs them. When you’re an addict, you often don’t want to take the drugs or drink the alcohol, but you have to. Because your body needs it. Dean doesn’t love Amara. He doesn’t, and he never will. He is addicted to her. And that’s going to be an interesting battle in and of itself.
(Also no one can convince me that Dean loves Cas and this addiction to Amara is killing him.)
Dean smiled as he watched Sam disappear up the stairs, triumphant in his win of their childhood game — a moment of frivolity in the midst of solemnity. He turned his back to walk around the room, fingers drifting over the plastic sheeting and hardwood panels, overturning boxes and shuffling papers around in search of the heart. In actuality, all he could do at this point was wait. Wait for the curse to catch up with him. His mind battled, racing back and forth over what he expected – hoped – to see; whoever it was could truly underline his fate. The form the curse took – whoever she turned out to be – could spell the end of Dean’s resolve. Perhaps it would reveal his true love, but a part of him feared he would meet a dark compulsion masquerading as desire. To see Amara would mean that he had lost control – body and soul.
Footsteps approached, a bang from behind as something clattered to the floor.
“Find anything?” He called to Sam, already sure that his brother was still upstairs, but he wished to cling on to uncertainty for a minute longer. Dean turned, his gaze landing on an angel. “Cas…”
“Hello, Dean.” Castiel replied, the hint of a smile pulling at his lips. Dean gaped, finally faced with a reality he had been ignoring for a long time. His gaze roamed the angel’s face, searching for the light in his brilliant blue eyes and the sincerity to his expression. Cas wasn’t looking back. His face was a mask.