Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8714923.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Claire_Novak/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Claire_Novak, Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, Castiel
  Additional Tags:
      Rough_Oral_Sex, Rimming, Mildly_Dubious_Consent, Underage_Sex, Daddy
      Kink, Daddy_Issues, Mild_humiliation_kink, Age_Difference, Choking
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-12-01 Words: 3738
****** Eat It Too ******
by theywere-neverhomeless_(notyourdadsaugspecialist)
Summary
     I want my cake, I wanna eat it too, I wanna have fun, and be in love
     wit you~
     The first time the Winchester brothers meet Claire, she is a little
     girl, eleven years old and terrified for her father. Sam sympathizes
     with her, reminded so much of himself at that age.
     When they meet her again six years later, Claire is no longer a
     child. Sam knows that if he hadn’t already been to Hell, he would be
     going there when he died.
The first time the Winchester brothers meet Claire, she is a little girl,
eleven years old and terrified for her father. Sam sympathizes with her,
reminded so much of himself at that age.
When they meet her again six years later, Claire is no longer a child. Sam
knows that if he hadn’t already been to Hell, he would be going there when he
died.
She’s beautiful. Her lips are full and lush, pink and shimmering with some kind
of chapstick that Sam hates himself for wondering the taste of. Her body is
slim, with full hips and tiny pert breasts hidden behind a fuck-everything
attitude that Sam can see right through. Hello, personal experience. And her
eyes. They’re piercing, molten pools of ocean, and every time they lock on him,
Sam gets hard, the arousal wrapping around the guilt so intricately that he can
hardly breathe. They’re filled with an angry fire that Sam recognizes so well
it’s like looking into a mirror, back at himself after Jess died. Angry at Dad,
angry at Dean, angry at God. It tugs at something inside him, resonates with
him in such an intimate way, and he’s spellbound by it.
By her.
Every time she bends over, to tie her shoe, to pick up something she dropped,
anything, Sam has to force himself not to let his gaze cling to the shapely
curve of her ass.
God, he wants to touch her.
He’s captivated, and he hides it pretty well in front of Dean, and Cas is too
oblivious to recognize it, but Sam is fairly certain that she knows. Sometimes,
he’ll catch himself staring at her, and just as he goes to look away, she will
turn to meet his eyes. Once the guilt registers in his expression, she smirks.
It’s not coy or sultry, it’s cocky, aggressively so, and that turns him on even
more.
Claire Novak is a goddamn hurricane, and Sam is just trying to ride out the
storm.
Things calm down for a while, but like the eye of the storm, Sam knows the
worst is yet to come.
It starts out small. She crowds into his space unnecessarily. It actually
reminds him of the way Castiel has no awareness of Dean’s personal space. He
can see the parallels there in a way he had previously been unable to, and
files that away for later.
That’s not all she does. She bats those dazzlingly thick eyelashes at him,
peers up at him from underneath them. Sam is pretty sure she even wraps those
pretty pink lips around a pen just to fuck with him. She has to be some kind of
sadist, to enjoy the way Sam’s eyes widen with shock and poorly concealed
arousal as he has to adjust his traitorously hardening cock. She follows the
movement, and guilt makes heat bloom in his cheeks and curl tightly in his
groin, and Sam dips his head to avoid moaning at the way she bites her lip in a
teasing grin.
She draws him into her trap without even trying, really. He's helpless to
resist her, but god does he try.
The first time she touches him, he comes his pants like a fucking teenager.
Dean and Cas have left together to do god-knows-what, and Sam is trapped in the
motel room with a very bored, very devious Claire.
Sam can feel her eyes on him as he cleans his gun. Her gaze is hot, scalding,
like a burning touch across his back, and it makes him restless. After several
agonizing minutes, Sam finishes cleaning and oiling his gun and gets up to get
a bottle of water from the fridge.
This is when Claire makes her move.
His extensive hunter training has him tensing when he hears her rise from the
bed, and his guilt keeps him from pushing back when she crowds him into the
wall. He backs up and she matches him step for step until his back touches wood
panel, and Sam closes his eyes for a moment to steel himself. He can't let
himself be weak.
But he fucking is.
“Hey, Sam,” Claire says in a deceptively casual tone, and Sam opens his eyes to
look down at her. Big mistake. His eyes are immediately drawn to her mouth,
where he catches the knowing smirk that tugs her lips up.
“H-hey, Claire,” Sam says haltingly, trying to match her friendly cadence, but
his voice trembles and breaks, betraying him. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Well,” she starts, pausing to bite her lip, and Sam can't help but track the
movement with his eyes. “I’m bored, Sam,” she says, like that explains
everything. Maybe it does.
When Claire looks up at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes, Sam has to
bite back the groan that threatens to burst forth.
He opens his mouth to speak, and suddenly she presses up against him, wrapping
her fingers in his hair and pulling him down into a kiss.
Claire kisses like it's going out of style, and it makes Sam’s head spin. She
presses her tongue into his mouth with no hesitation, and Sam moans into her
lips as the taste of bubblegum and cigarette smoke invades his senses. He’s
frozen, wanting so badly to kiss her back, but he can't. He can't. So he keeps
his hands at his side's and lets her take what she wants.
By the time she pulls away, Sam’s cock is hard and leaking in his boxers, and
he sways a little as she steps back, trying to stop himself from surging
forward to recapture her mouth.
She grins up at him as she clocks the movement, and Sam licks his lips when he
sees how swollen and shiny hers are. He wants to pull them into his mouth until
she's mewling beneath him, breathless and panting and wanton and-
Sam puts a shaking hand over his eyes to stop the train of thought.
There are so many reasons why they can't- the most pressing one being what
Castiel would do to Sam if he finds out, not to mention the age difference. Sam
is 31 years old, almost twice her age. She's still a goddamn child.
“No I'm not, Sam,” Claire says indignantly, rolling her eyes, and Sam realizes
he spoke his reservations aloud. “I'm seventeen, so I'm legal in Texas. And
half a dozen other states,” she adds with a grin.
“Claire, please, I can't-” Sam pleads, but he's choking on his words when
Claire crowds back into his space and presses an insistent palm over his still
throbbing erection. The zipper digs sharply into his cock, and he hisses with
an arch of his hips, but Claire is already moving her hand, pressing in at a
different angle and it feels so fucking good his head is spinning.
“But you want to,” Claire purrs as she strokes him, and Sam balls his hands
into fists at his side to stop himself from touching her. “I know you want to,
Sam,” she continues, rubbing his cock slowly and methodically at just the right
pace that Sam can't fucking think. “You want me so bad you can't stand it,
don't you?” She coos into his ear, and Sam whimpers.
She has to stand on her tiptoes to catch the lobe of Sam's ear between her
teeth, but she does it, digging her hips into her hand on his cock and Sam lets
out a broken groan.
“You want to know what I taste like,” she whispers into his ear like a filthy
secret, and despite himself Sam moans in affirmation. “Don't you, Sam? You want
to know what your cock will feel like when it's buried inside me. That makes
you feel like a dirty old man, doesn’t it? But that just turns you on even
more. You're a pervert,” she laughs.
“Claire, please,” Sam begs, unsure at this point whether he's begging for her
to stop or to go on, but Claire just smirks.
“Don't worry, Sam. You'll taste me soon enough. I'll wear you down eventually.
You can't resist me forever.”
She bites harshly into Sam’s neck and he's coming with a broken cry, spilling
into his pants in harsh spurts that have his knees buckling.
Before Sam even has a chance to recover, Claire steps back, dragging her eyes
triumphantly over every inch of him before walking off and plopping in front of
the laptop. Sam’s knees are still shaking as he slowly walks to to the bathroom
to make some futile attempt to clean himself. He eventually gives up and gets a
change of clothes before retreating again. He just barely manages to get
changed before Dean and Cas return. If he’s unusually quiet, nobody comments,
but he feels Claire’s eyes on him for the rest of the afternoon.
It happens again almost a week later.
Dean and Cas are making a supply run, and Sam’s barely shut the door behind him
before he feels her fists in his shirt as she whirls him around and presses him
roughly against the door.
“Claire, please,” Sam begs, but she responds by shoving her tongue into his
mouth and as usual, he’s powerless to resist. She kisses him until he’s panting
into her mouth, and he’s been too busy trying not to lose himself in that to
notice her unzipping his pants without even bothering to unbutton them or take
the belt off and the next thing he knows her mouth is wrapped around his cock
and his knees almost buckle with the force of the arousal that shoots down his
spine. She swallows Sam to the hilt with ease, despite Sam’s impressive length,
and his knees give out when the tip of his cock brushes the back of her throat.
Sam can’t help the way his hips thrust up into the heat, and he feels horrible
for half a second when she chokes on his cock despite the groan that’s pulled
from him when her throat spasms around it, but when she moans in response,
looking up at him hungrily, he groans again.
His control shatters, and he fists his hands in her hair and fucks her mouth in
earnest. She moans thickly around his cock, tears shining in her eyes and Sam
thinks that is the fucking hottest thing he’s ever seen. Her fingers dig into
his hips, urging him onward, and he quickens his pace, fucking into her mouth
with sharp, shallow thrusts. It feels even better than he imagined, and he
hates himself for having imagined it but the shame only makes his cock throb
with arousal. He groans when he realizes she’s got a hand down her pants,
thumbing at her clit, and she’s moaning around his dick and choking every now
and then and then she looks up at him again, eyes dark with lust, shimmering
with unshed tears, her mouth stretched around the thickness of his dick and
it’s all too much, too hot, and Sam comes suddenly, cock throbbing as he spills
into the back of her throat with a surprised shout. She swallows all of it,
bringing another moan to Sam’s lips, and she comes seconds later, he can tell
by the way her face scrunches up, mouth slack but eyes drawn intensely forward
as she pushes herself over the edge.
The hazy film of desire now slowly ebbing, Sam realizes what he’s done. He’s
struck with horror at the way her hair is knotted and mussed, at the shiny spit
slick on her chin, and at the completely satisfied, debauched expression on her
face after he just facefucked her like a toy.
“Oh, get over it, Sam,” Claire says with a roll of her eyes as she wipes her
chin on the back of her sleeve and rolls to her feet in a fluid motion that has
Sam kind of awestruck. “You didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to do.”
“Y-yeah, but-” Sam tries to protest, but she just unceremoniously shoves his
cock back into his pants and zips him back up, giving him a condescending pat
on the cheek and a smirk when she’s done.
“Get. Over. It.” And with that she turns away and puts her headphones in to
tune him out.
A few days later, someone else is murdered. They hear it come across the police
scanner, and Dean and Cas decide to go inform the families and press their luck
there while Sam checks out the crime scene. Claire insists on going with Sam,
and nobody can make her back down, so the men all shrug at each other and give
up.
Sam can see her triumphant grin in the passenger seat as he drives to the
scene, and he’s half hard the whole drive. The tension keeps piling on, and he
feels like he’s teetering on the edge of a knife. It’s going to tip soon, he
can feel it.
And tip it does.
Sam strides up to the detective on the scene and flashes his badge, nodding his
head to the body in silent request for information. She obliges, telling him
what they had discovered so far, but comes to a halt when her eyes land on
Claire behind him.
Shit.
“Uhm, it’s bring your daughter to work day at the bureau,” Sam says lamely,
internally cringing in preparation for the silent (or not) anger he expects to
be directed at him from Claire, but it doesn’t come. He turns to her with his
eyebrows knitted together in concern, and is very taken aback to see her
smirking coyly at him. She bats her eyelashes in his direction and adopts a
very demure expression, and Sam swallows thickly.
Shit.
She comes up to him and hugs onto his arm.
“I was so thrilled when he told me I could come with him, isn’t that right,
Daddy?” She beams up at him, all innocence, and he sucks in a sharp breath. He
hesitantly fakes a smile, but his cock is already responding to her proximity
and the usage of the title.
“Haha, yep, you sure were, honey,” he says haltingly, and the detective gives
him an odd look before continuing with her report.
Sam takes notes, and Claire is merciful enough to not distract him while he
works, instead making notes of her own. Once they get what they need, they walk
back to the car in silence, and Sam chews on his lip. As soon as they’re out of
sight, Claire is on him again. Her tight body is pressing into him and her
mouth is hot on his neck.
“I bet you hoped I wouldn’t notice the way you got all hot and bothered when I
called you Daddy, didn’t you?” Claire purrs into his ear as she nips at the
lobe, and Sam doesn’t even bother to hide the groan that rips from him.
“Goddamnit Claire,” Sam groans as she palms his cock.
“You look so fucking good in this suit, Daddy,” Claire says, completely
ignoring his protests, and Sam chokes on a moan. “Want you to bend me over and
fuck me on this car in it. Want you to fill me up with your cock,” she murmurs
against his ear, and his whole body wracks with a shudder. “Can you do that,
Daddy? Can you fuck your little girl out in the middle of the open, like she
belongs to you?” She grabs his hand and puts it up under her shirt to cup her
breast.
Sam is strong. He could endure centuries in hell with Lucifer’s torture. He
could withstand the Devil himself, but when it comes to Claire he’s so utterly
weak. He held out as long as he could, and really, he thinks he should get a
fucking medal for that. But he can’t handle it anymore.
The last of his control snaps, and he grabs her hips suddenly and whirls her
around. He does just as she asked, and bends her over the hood of the impala,
yanking her pants down to her knees roughly.
She moans in response to the aggression of the gesture, and cants her hips back
toward him in invitation. And really, who is he to refuse? With big hands that
practically span across the entirety of each asscheek, he pulls them apart and
groans. Her pussy is fucking gorgeous, pink and dripping. Her thighs are just
slightly damp, and Sam leans forward to capture her clit in his mouth before
delving his tongue into her hole, thrusting it into that tight heat and
wiggling. Her knees thud onto the hood of the impala as they give out, and she
groans. Sam groans in response as he laps at her pussy, circling her clit with
the flat of his tongue before pressing his tongue back into that hot wetness.
“Nngh, god, Sam, yes,” she groans, and Sam pulls back slowly, replacing his
face with his hand as he thumbs at her clit.
“Say it, Claire,” Sam says, voice gravelly with lust, his tone dark and
commanding. She shudders beneath him.
“Daddy,” she says on a breathy moan as he sinks two fingers into her. “Daddy,
yes!” Sam pumps his fingers into her, drawing out more breathy sighs and
whimpers, watching his fingers disappear into her wet cunt. On a whim, he leans
forward again and buries his face in her ass, not even faltering in his rhythm
with his fingers as his tongue flicks across the entrance of her asshole. “Nn-
Sam, I - oh, fuck, Daddy,” Claire cries out, unable to spur him on with words
but the way her ass grinds back into his face is encouragement enough, and he
shoves his tongue roughly into her ass, tongue fucking her even more
mercilessly than before as he adds another finger beside the other two. It’s
only a minute of that and Claire is coming, biting down a sharp cry as she
spasms around his tongue and fingers. He brings her down from that slowly,
letting her come down before standing back up. He flips her over with ease,
hooking one of her legs over an arm as he pulls out his cock with the other.
“You ready for me to fuck you, little girl?” Sam says, a dark smirk on his face
that has Claire shivering. His eyes are dark, all consideration gone, now that
he’s given in to his desire and is sure of her reciprocation. She bites her lip
and bats her eyelashes at him.
“You gonna fuck me on the roof of your car like a whore, Daddy?” Claire says,
biting her lip as if to hold back the ‘yes please’ that‘s so evident in her
tone, and Sam grins at the challenge in her voice.
“You bet your cute ass I am,” Sam says, and then he’s lining himself up at her
entrance and slipping into her in one smooth thrust.
They both groan at the feeling when he bottoms out, and Claire has exactly five
seconds to adjust before Sam is pulling out and slamming his hips back in. And
again. And again.
He isn’t gentle, and he knows he’s a lot to take, but she’s doing well, and he
tells her so.
“You’re taking Daddy’s cock so well, baby,” Sam praises as he fucks into her
relentlessly, pausing only to grab the back of both of her knees and splaying
her legs even further.
“Oh, god, you’re so fucking deep!” Claire cries out, and Sam snatches out and
grabs her throat, pulling her to him without slowing his pace.
“If you keep making noise, we’re going to get caught,” Sam growls, squeezing
down harder on her neck as he watches her eyes glaze over with pleasure. She
bites her lip, unable to make words now, but he can feel her pussy gushing
around his cock, and he grins at her, a sharp and dangerous smile.
“You gonna come for me, baby? Gonna come on Daddy’s dick? Hmm?” Sam says, and
he can feel his cock throbbing at the thought. He’s going to come soon, too.
Claire is nodding frantically, whining as best she can with his hand around her
neck, little abortive keening noises that let Sam know exactly how close she
is. “Then do it. Come for me Claire.”
She whines again, desperate and needy, and Sam squeezes her neck even tighter.
“I said come!”
This time, she obeys, with a silent scream as she convulses around his cock,
thighs trembling and that’s all it takes to push Sam over the edge as well. He
buries himself inside her, slamming into her twice more before he comes hard
and fast, cock pulsing as he fills her with come. She comes again from this,
and Sam lets go of her throat to press his hand between her legs and thumb at
her clit until she comes again, and one more time for good measure.
By the time he pulls out of her, Claire is a trembling, incoherent mess slumped
back on the car.
Sam carefully pulls her pants back up around her hips, and sits on the hood of
the car himself to recover.
“That… was amazing,” Claire chokes out when she’s finally able to speak. “That
was exactly what I’ve been hoping for. You’ve been holding out on me, man!’
Sam laughs, only slightly abashed. He glances over at her, and his heart
squeezes in his chest. She’s so fucking beautiful. She catches him looking, and
he turns away sheepishly.
“So, you’re not gonna tell Castiel, right?” Claire says, and Sam’s taken aback
by how much trepidation is in her voice.
“Are you kidding me? Cas would probably throw me into outer space if I told him
I fucked you! Not to mention what Dean would say if I told him I fucked someone
on the hood of his precious car, much less you,” Sam says, no small amount of
alarm in his voice as he dares to imagine it.
Claire laughs, finally sitting up. She brushes their shoulders together, and
Sam leans back into the contact.
“... Thanks, Sam,” Claire says, and Sam quirks an eyebrow at her in question.
“For… this. For everything.”
“No problem, kid,” Sam says just to piss her off, and he grins when it works.
“Shut up, old man,” she bites back, but Sam can see the smile threatening to
break through the storm.
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