1:12 AM
The knock at her door came late. Too late for anything good.
Sofia had been awake, sitting by the window, staring at the empty road beyond the motel. She wasn't expecting anyone. Certainly not him.
When she opened the door, Sam Winchester stood on the other side, looking wrecked.
She blinked, startled, gripping the edge of the doorframe. "Sam?"
He just stood there, silent, his gaze flickering over her like he wasn't sure she was real. His clothes were damp from the night air, his jaw clenched like he was holding something in. He looked exhausted. Haunted.
Her stomach twisted.
Sam exhaled, running a hand over his face. He shook his head, eyes darting past her like he was already second-guessing himself. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm here. I shouldn't—"
Before he could finish, Sofia reached for him.
Her fingers wrapped around his wrist, warm and steady, pulling him inside without a word. She closed the door behind him, sealing them into the quiet of her small apartment above the motel.
Sam stood in the middle of the room, tense, his hands curled into fists. He wouldn't look at her.
She stepped closer to him. "Sam," she said softly, reaching up to touch his face.
His eyes fluttered shut. He leaned into her palm, his breath shuddering out like he was holding back something too big to name.
"Sam, what is it?"
His throat worked. He shook his head. "I just… I just need - "
His voice cracked. He stepped back, like he was going to leave, but Sofia caught his hand again. Held him there. Wouldn't let him go.
She pulled him down, rising onto her toes, pressing a kiss to his lips - gentle, grounding. "It's okay."
Sam broke.
The kiss deepened, going from soft to desperate, from searching to taking.
His hands found her waist, fingers digging in. He lifted her effortlessly, and she gasped against his mouth, wrapping her legs around him as he pressed her against the wall.
His lips moved to her neck, hot and urgent, sucking, biting, needing.
His breath was ragged. "I just need to feel something good."
Sofia whispered against his skin, "Take it. Whatever you need."
Sam groaned, his grip on her tightening. Then - he kissed her again, harder this time, desperate, consuming.
He carried her to the bed, his lips never leaving hers, lowering her down as his hands roamed over her. His fingers found the hem of her shirt, yanking it up, almost ripping it in his urgency. She gasped but didn't stop him, helping him strip the fabric away.
Her hands moved to his shirt, pulling it over his head, her fingers immediately running over the hard lines of his chest. Over the scars. Over the bruises.
Her fingers traced along his ribs, over his stomach, as if she were memorizing every inch of him.
Sam groaned at the contact, his hands sliding down her back, pulling her closer, his mouth claiming hers in another heated, desperate kiss.
"Sam -" Sofia whispered against his lips, breathless.
He didn't answer.
Didn't have words.
He just kissed her again.
Deeper. Harder.
Like he was trying to burn this moment into his memory.
Like he already knew it was the last good thing he would ever have.
Sam's mouth followed his hands, kissing, touching everywhere. His lips traced down her collarbone, over the swell of her breasts. He paused there, sucking a nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking over it, drawing a soft moan from her lips. He moved to the other, his hands kneading her curves, desperate to feel, to lose himself in her.
His kisses trailed lower, over her stomach. He hooked his fingers into her waistband, dragging her underwear down, spreading her thighs, his breath warm against her skin.
She trembled, already shaking, already wet.
Sam groaned.
"Jesus, Sofia."
He leaned in, kissing her inner thigh, moving closer to where she so desperately wanted him.
"Sam -" her voice was barely a whisper, but before she could say anything more, his mouth was on her.
She arched against him, gasping, clutching at the sheets as his tongue moved, slow at first, then firm, deliberate.
Sofia gasped, her head falling back, her body arching off the bed.
"Oh—"
Sam groaned, gripping her hips, holding her still as he worked her open.
His tongue moved in slow, devastating strokes, teasing her, building her higher.
His fingers slid inside her, curling deep, coaxing, building the pleasure higher. Finding exactly the right spot to stroke, exactly how to ruin her.
Her body trembled, tightening around him, her moans growing louder, needier. Sam groaned against her skin, hooking her legs over his shoulders, holding her still as he took her apart.
Sofia cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair, thighs trembling.
"Sam, I—"
She couldn't even form words.
Couldn't do anything but feel.
He took his time.
Dragging her closer, closer, until she was right at the edge, teetering, barely able to hold on.
Sam groaned against her skin.
"Come for me."
And just like that—
She shattered.
Her body tensed, pleasure crashing over her in waves, her moans breaking into gasps, her fingers pulling at his hair as she lost herself completely.
Sam didn't stop.
Didn't let her come down.
He stroked her through it, dragging it out, making her shake, making her whimper, making her feel every second.
Sam didn't let her recover. Didn't give her a chance to come down. He crawled over her, kissing her deep and hungry, letting her taste herself on his tongue.
Sofia was still trembling, breathless, but she responded immediately, pulling him closer, hands roaming over his back, down his spine.
Her fingers found the buckle of his belt, fumbled slightly, urgency in every movement.
Sam groaned against her mouth as she worked it open, popping the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down.
He pulled back just enough to shove them down his hips, kicking them off completely, taking his underwear with them.
His body was solid, warm, tense with restraint.
Sofia reached for him, fingers wrapping around him, guiding him.
Sam let out a shaky breath, reaching for his jeans again, pulling a condom from his pocket before they hit the floor.
Their eyes met - something unspoken passing between them, heavy, aching.
Then - he rolled it on, lined himself up, pressing against her entrance.
His breathing was uneven, his body thrumming with need.
Then - he pushed inside.
Sofia gasped, her fingers digging into his back as he stretched her, filling her completely. Sam groaned, his forehead dropping against hers, his body tense, shaking with restraint.
His thrusts started slow, deliberate, almost like he was holding back.
But it didn't last.
He couldn't hold back.
His thrusts turned harder, deeper, rougher, desperate.
It was raw, consuming, like he was trying to carve this moment onto his soul.
Sofia moaned, meeting every movement, gasping his name, whispering broken words against his lips.
His hands gripped her hips tighter, holding her in place, chasing something he couldn't name.
Something he knew he'd never have again.
It was too much.
Too good.
Too raw.
And Sam felt himself slipping, felt himself going too hard, too rough.
Felt himself losing control.
He slowed, barely holding himself back. "Tell me to stop."
Sofia's breath was shaky, her eyes meeting his. She shook her head.
She reached up, cupped his face, pulled him into a kiss.
"It's okay."
"Take it. Whatever you need."
Sam groaned into her mouth, something breaking inside him, something desperate and aching.
He kissed her like he was drowning.
He picked up his pace, his thrusts turning rough again, his grip bruising.
Sofia moaned, her body tightening around him, her head falling back as pleasure coiled inside her, ready to snap.
"Sam - " she gasped.
"I got you," he whispered, kissing her throat, her jaw, his hands gripping her hips so tight it would leave bruises.
Sofia came again, crying out his name, her body pulsing around him, pulling him with her.
Sam groaned, thrusting deep one last time before he broke, spilling into her, holding onto her like she was the only thing keeping him tethered.
When it was over, he didn't move. Didn't pull away. Just held her there, breathing her in, feeling her warmth beneath him, memorizing this moment.
The room was quiet now.
Sam still hadn't moved.
Hadn't pulled away.
Hadn't tried to disappear into the night like he always did.
Sofia lay against him, warm, soft, tracing slow patterns over his chest.
She wasn't pressing him for answers.
She wasn't asking him to stay.
She just held him.
And Sam let her.
For the first time in longer than he could remember—he let himself have this.
Let himself be touched, cared for, anchored.
His hand rested on her back, his fingers absently stroking her spine.
Neither of them spoke.
Eventually, they drifted off.
Sam woke just before dawn.
The sky outside was still deep blue, tinged with the first hints of morning.
He should go.
Should leave now, before this became something harder to walk away from.
He shifted, about to move -
Sofia stirred beside him.
Her eyes blinked open, heavy with sleep, warm and searching.
For a moment, she just looked at him.
Like she knew.
Like she already felt him slipping away.
"Sam?" she whispered.
He swallowed.
His throat was tight.
"I should go."
Sofia didn't argue.
Didn't tell him to stay.
She just reached up and kissed him.
Soft, slow.
Like she was grounding him in this moment.
Before he knew it, he was kissing her back.
Deeper.
Hungrier.
Her hands slid down his chest, slow and deliberate.
Sam groaned, his body already responding to her touch.
Before he could stop her -
She was straddling him.
Her thighs framing his hips, her lips moving down his neck, his jaw, his collarbone.
Her fingers traced over his stomach, lower, lower -
Then—she wrapped her hand around him.
Sam sucked in a sharp breath, his grip on her hips tightening as she stroked him, slow, teasing, just enough to make his head tip back against the pillow.
"Sof-"
She shushed him with a soft kiss, dragging her hand along his length again, watching the way his stomach tensed, the way his jaw clenched.
Then - she pulled away.
Reached for the bedside table.
Sam barely had time to process it before she tore the foil open, pulled the condom out, and rolled it onto him with careful, steady hands.
His breath hitched, his fingers flexing against her thighs, his self-control unraveling.
Sofia met his gaze.
Soft. Warm.
Like she already knew he needed this.
Then—she lined him up against her entrance.
Sam's breath shuddered.
His hands gripped her hips instinctively, like he wanted to stop her.
Like he wasn't sure he could handle this.
Sofia just looked at him.
She sank down onto him.
Sam let out a shuddering breath, his head tipping back against the pillow.
Sofia moved slowly.
Deliberately.
Her hands splayed over his chest, her fingers tracing every scar, every muscle, every piece of him.
Sam watched her, his hands gliding over her thighs, up to her waist, holding onto her.
She felt so warm. So good.
So unlike anything he thought he deserved.
She rolled her hips, her breath catching as she took him deeper, as pleasure built between them.
Her pace never quickened.
She didn't chase it.
Didn't rush.
She just moved with him.
Letting them feel every second, every inch.
Letting him sink into her completely.
Sam groaned, his grip tightening, his body trembling beneath her.
"Sofia -"
She leaned down, kissing him slow, deep, consuming.
And that was it.
That was his breaking point.
He flipped them.
Sofia gasped, her back hitting the mattress, her legs still wrapped around him.
Sam slid back inside her, slow, deep, letting her feel him.
Her hands gripped his shoulders, her breath shaky.
"Sam," she whispered, pulling him closer.
He didn't answer.
Didn't need to.
Because he was showing her.
This wasn't like the rough urgency of last night.
This was soft.
This was aching.
This was him trying to memorize the feeling of her warmth, her skin, her body wrapped around him.
Sofia kissed him, slow and deep, her fingers running through his hair.
Sam groaned into her mouth, his hips rocking into hers, their bodies moving in perfect rhythm.
She gasped against his lips, her back arching as pleasure built between them again.
"Sam—"
"I got you," he whispered, his forehead pressed against hers.
And she did.
She fell apart beneath him, moaning his name, clenching around him, pulling him deeper.
Sam let himself follow.
Let himself come undone inside her, holding onto her, whispering something against her skin that neither of them would remember.
They stayed tangled together, his body still pressed against hers, his arms still wrapped around her.
Sofia lay against him, her head resting on his chest, her fingers tracing absent patterns over his skin.
Sam held her.
For a little while.
Let himself breathe her in, feel the warmth of her in his arms.
Let himself pretend, just for a moment, that this was something he could keep.
Eventually, morning broke.
The light slipped through the blinds, soft and golden.
Sofia stirred beside him, shifting slightly, blinking up at him.
Sam looked at her.
And for the first time that night, he smiled.
A small, barely-there smile.
She reached for him.
He leaned in and kissed her gently.
Then, Carefully, slowly, he untangled himself from her warmth.
She didn't stop him.
Didn't try to make him stay.
Because she already knew.
Knew that whatever had just passed between them wouldn't change his path.
Sam got up, found his jeans, his shirt.
Got dressed in silence.
Sofia didn't speak.
Didn't reach for him.
She just lay there, watching, softer than she should have been.
When he was finally ready to go, he hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then - he sat on the edge of the bed, beside her.
Sofia shifted, blinking up at him, her expression unreadable.
Sam reached out.
Tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering.
She leaned into his touch, just barely.
Sam exhaled.
Then - he leaned down and kissed her.
Soft.
Slow.
Final.
When he pulled back, his voice was barely above a whisper.
"Thank you."
He stood.
And walked out.
Leaving her alone in the quiet morning light.