#Sam Winchester/Reader

[star-wrote]

nsfw alphabet : sam winchester

ao3 link

character: sam winchester x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw(obviously) | sexual details | mentions of scars and monsters | intentional lowercase | 18+

a/n: roughly season 2 era, but applies for most of his eras. first time writing for sammy boy, enjoy :)

-praying this doesn’t get hidden like my daryl dixon one did </3

(not my image or character)

A- aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

sam is very big on aftercare. he’ll hold you until he feels like cleaning you up, gently kissing any parts of you that he was particularly rough with. when he lies down with you again, he whispers sweet words into your hair until you and him giggle and talk yourselves to sleep.

B- body part (their favorite part of both of your bodies)

sam’s favorite body part on himself is his arms. he loves how he can lift you and toss you around, and he knows you like how they flex while his fingers pump into you.

sam’s favorite body part on you is… everything. he knows that isn’t much of an answer, but it's true, he loves every atom of your existence. the way your eyes hold love and lust for him, how your hips are so easy to grasp onto, your lips that can take his length, and your ass that gets so red from his spanking.

C- cum (anything to do with it)

this man loves to cum inside of you. filling you up is better than the heaven he experienced in death. his load has to be bigger than average with how it fills you up and leaks out in thick globs. 

D- dirty secret (self explanatory)

sam secretly loves fucking you when you get back from a hunt since you’re more bratty than normal. he knows you want to be set straight and he’s just the man for the job. 

E- experience (do they know what they’re doing)

even though sam is a huge nerd, he’s very experienced. it probably causes you a little jealousy to think about how he got so experienced, but at least he’s using that experience on you and not some other girl.

F- favorite position (self explanatory)

any position where he can look into your eyes is his favorite. he likes to see them roll back when he pushes into you for the first time. he can’t deny how good it feels to take you from behind, however. occasionally he’ll let you on top, but somehow he still ends up in control.

G- goofy (how serious are they)

pretty serious, but he always laughs at any joke you make. one time, you guys even stopped halfway through since you both were laughing so hard.

H- hair grooming habits (how much hair do they have down there)

it varies, but he usually keeps it slightly trimmed since he doesn’t have much time or privacy in between hunts. he also doesn’t care what you do; he knows your body enough to bring you pleasure either way. 

I- intimacy (romantic or rough/dirty)

both. he can be romantic and kiss you sweetly as you both cum while looking into each other’s eyes. but he can also be rough, spanking you and making you cry into the pillow while you’re asking permission to cum.

J- jack off (how often do they masturbate)

again, not much privacy in between hunts. when he’s away from you, most showers in motel rooms involve him stroking himself while thinking of you.

K- kinks (self explanatory)

size kink- he loves to see how big he is compared to you.

choking- having his hand around your neck, whether squeezing or not, is usually a must.

spanking- he loves to see how red your ass can get from his hand.

praise and degradation kink- he loves praising you to see how your eyes glaze over. but he also loves to call you things like “a needy slut.”

crying- sam gets hard when you cry for him. you just look so pretty.

eating you out- sam could cum just from giving you pleasure this way.

marking- he loves to mark you up to show others that you’re taken. dean makes fun of the hickeys on your neck, but you smirk when you remember how you got them.

multiple orgasms and orgasm denial- he loves to deny you when you ask to cum, and then make you cum too many times after that.

sam is pretty much always the dominant one when it comes to sex between the two of you. not being in control for most of his life led to him needing to be in control in the bedroom.

L- location (where they like to get it on)

most often in motel rooms while dean is out. sometimes you guys get it on in baby while dean sleeps in the motel room, but you have to keep that a secret.

M- motivation (what turns them on)

when you get sassy with him, he wants to fuck that sass out of you. he also can’t help but get turned on when you look up at him sweetly. and when you research lore with him… and when you kill a monster. he pretty much just gets turned on by you being you. 

N- no (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

he won’t do anything with you in public or anywhere someone could see you. he gets a little possessive and doesn’t want anyone seeing what’s his. he also won’t do anything that will put you in danger.

O- oral (do they prefer receiving or giving)

definitely a giver, he could suffocate between your thighs with a smile on his face. however, he does love when you give him head. seeing you struggle to take all of him in your mouth is a sight that he wants ingrained into his memory.

P- pace (do they prefer fast or slow)

depends on how he’s feeling. if you both are hopped up on adrenaline after a hunt, it’s fast. if one of you had a near death experience, it’s slow and loving. 

Q- quickie (do they like them)

quickies are a must as a hunter sometimes. sam makes sure to take advantage of the time, though, assuring that you’re both sated. 

R- risk (do they like to try new things)

he’s down to try anything that you want to try, as long as it doesn’t put either of you in too much danger.

S- stamina (how many times and how long each round)

sam clearly has insane stamina. he can go for multiple rounds without finishing, making sure he’s pulled as many orgasms from your body as he can.

T- toys (do they like using them)

he’s not particularly into toys, but if you ask, he’ll use one on you in a heartbeat. maybe he could get one that’s similar to his cock so you can only think about him while using it.

U- unfair (how often do they tease)

sam is so unfair in his teasing. he teases you with his words and his body, making sure you’re begging to cum by the end of it.

V- volume (how loud are they)

not very loud, but dirty talk and grunts in your ear make up for it. he loves to hear you moan for him, though.

W- wild card (anything random)

sam is insecure about the scars on his body from hunts. but when he sees you kissing them gently and calling him a hero, he decides that he shouldn’t be insecure about them anymore.

X- x-ray (what’s going on down there)

larger than average; about 7-8 inches when hard. curves slightly upward and is cut. pinkish-purple that leads to an angry red mushroom tip.

Y- yearning (sex-drive level)

very high sex-drive, arguably higher than dean’s. he always wants you.

Z- zzz (how fast do they fall asleep)

he usually waits until you fall asleep, and then falls asleep with you if he feels like it’s safe enough, holding you through the night so the monsters in your dreams don’t hurt you. <3

#sam winchester #sam winchester supernatural #sam winchester smut #smut #sam winchester alphabet #sam winchester spn #spn #supernatural #spn fanfic #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester/reader

[happy74827]

Bring It In

[Sam Winchester x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: After a rough hunt, Sam seeks your comforting touch.

WC: 1747

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Sammy!! My adorable pookie. God, he was so precious in the early seasons that I just had to write about him.

『••✎••』

Waking up to a shadow in the middle of the night, especially when you were staying in a motel that was miles away from any civilization, was never a good thing. Especially when you could feel it even before opening your eyes, its presence heavy on the air. It made your senses scream and your heart race.

The feeling of being watched and studied was not something a normal person would like to wake up to, and as you lay there in bed with your eyes closed, that feeling struck you right into your core, making your muscles tense. Adding into the fact of the complete awareness of the supernatural world you were a part of, that was just the cherry on top of the cake.

But as you lay there, your brain going at 100 miles an hour, you realize this instance wasn’t one of those life-threatening situations you were so used to. It was an oddly comforting feeling as the flashlight you flew into the darkness was caught in the hands of someone you trusted with your life, the same hands that have touched every inch of your body in a way you could never forget.

He had been hunting all night, you could tell. Although it was dark, and only the soft glow from the motel sign illuminated the room, you knew his clothes were covered in dirt and leaves, and his hair was a mess. He didn't care, though, as he walked closer to you, his eyes becoming clear as he turned the flashlight on.

Sam had a tendency to get into these moods. A mood where he needed something to ground him and remind him that the life he was living was worth fighting for. You had always been that thing for him, his anchor, and as he approached the bed, his mind was racing with everything and nothing all at once.

As he sat down on the edge of the bed, his large hands reached out, touching you softly. It wasn’t sexual; he had no interest in that right now. He was looking for comfort. He just needed you.

You sighed, pulling yourself up from your position on the bed to get a better look at him. His eyes were tired and glistened over with some sort of sadness that he tried to keep hidden from you, but he knew he couldn’t. The tears reflected the moonlight that shined through the blinds and through the flashlight, and although the shadows under his eyes were more prominent than usual, he still looked at you with the most love you could imagine.

You didn't have to ask him why he was here, why he had been gone all night. You knew. He was a creature of habit, and Sam was very good at reading people. He knew when you were at your weakest when you needed him the most, and you did the same for him.

He needed reassurance. He needed to know he was doing the right thing, or else the guilt and shame would eat him alive. So when he saw the soft expression on your face, the gentle smile, and the look in your eyes, he nodded. It was soft, barely noticeable, but you saw it.

“You scared me.” You said, reaching forward to take his hand in yours. The flashlight was still clutched tightly in his other hand, the light shining up at the ceiling.

He sighed, squeezing your hand and looking away. It was silent for a moment before you felt him shift. The mattress moved slightly under his weight as he scooted closer, his eyes meeting yours once more.

Without a word, he reached forward, the hand that had been holding the flashlight coming up to rest on the side of your face. You leaned into his touch, the roughness of his hand feeling nice against your soft skin. He ran his thumb over your cheek before moving to cup the back of your head.

He was slow, almost hesitant, and you gave him a reassuring smile. You loved this man more than anything, and the gentle kisses he placed on your forehead and cheeks were the most tender of moments. You felt your heart swell as he finally kissed your lips, his hand moving from the back of your head to wrap around you, pulling you closer.

He let the flashlight fall to the floor, the loud thud it made against the carpet going unnoticed. You felt his lips tremble slightly, his emotions getting the best of him as he deepened the kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pulled him closer.

It wasn’t long before he pulled away, just slightly, his breath warm against your lips. Now you saw the blood, the bruises, and the cuts covering his face. He didn’t seem to care about them, but you did. It broke your heart, knowing that he had spent all night killing monsters and demons just to keep you safe. To keep everyone safe.

He let out a sigh, a long, hard breath as if he had been holding it in forever. Relief, the kind that came after a good cry or after a bad case of the flu was gone, washed over his face, and you could see the tension leave his shoulders. He leaned forward, resting his head on your shoulder, his arms tightening around you.

“I know,” He spoke, his voice cracking slightly. His tone was soft, his lips brushing against your ear. You shivered, rubbing your hands over his back. “I’m sorry, I just.. I needed- I needed to make sure that you were okay. That we were okay. It just... It gets overwhelming, and with what happened to Jess-”

You shushed him, turning to place a kiss on his temple. He sighed again, his breath tickling the side of your neck. His scent surrounded you, a mix of dirt and sweat and a hint of gunpowder. Dean’s presence was there, too, a bit of cologne and beer mixed into the air.

You didn't need to know where Dean was. You were pretty sure he had been on a hunt with Sam, and now he was at a bar, trying to get over his demons. The two brothers were so closely similar and yet so different, but in moments like this, where they were both torn down to their core, you could see the resemblance.

The two of them had a lot of things in common, but their biggest similarity was their stubbornness. They refused to ask for help, and they were afraid to show weakness, especially in front of each other.

Dean was off, drinking his worries away, while Sam came to you. A pattern the two had developed.

You had met the brothers in a motel very similar to the one you were in now. You were there for a simple vacation, a break from all the stresses of your life, but things changed when you were woken up to the sounds of gunshots and glass breaking.

Dean had burst into your room, dragging you out with him. He was a smart guy, and although he had no clue who you were, he knew you were in danger. He had gotten into a fight with a… well, it didn’t matter what it was; all that mattered was that the thing had a taste for human flesh.

You and Sam had bonded instantly, and Dean wasn't too far behind. It was the start of a beautiful friendship despite the poor circumstances. After a year of being around each other, helping each other out with whatever situation came, the three of you became closer than you ever thought possible. A little more with Sam, of course.

So, now, when Sam comes to you late at night, needing you, needing reassurance, you don’t hesitate. You give him all that he needs and more, and when he holds you close, his body trembling and his words shaky, you know it was the right decision.

His grip on you tightened, pulling you into him. You let him, holding him just as close, your hands gently running up and down his back. You could feel the fabric of his shirt under your fingertips, and the heat from his skin radiated through.

After a moment, he pulled back, his eyes searching yours. You could tell he was worried about Dean, about you, about the whole situation. He was afraid of what was coming, and although he didn’t know it, his fears were valid.

There was a lot to come, and it wasn’t going to be easy. The two of you had been through a lot, and although you didn't regret it, the thought of something happening to him was enough to drive you crazy.

You were about to say something, but the words never left your mouth. He was kissing you again, the force much stronger than the last, his hands gripping your arms tightly. It was an amazing kiss, filled with all the passion and love he had for you, and as he moved you, pushing you onto the bed, you felt his desperation.

It wasn’t a desperate need for sex, but a desperate need to be close to you. You knew this, and as you tangled your fingers into his hair, kissing him just as desperately, you knew he needed you more than anything. Who cared if you ended up losing more sleep than normal? Who cared if the sun came up and Dean returned to the room, finding the two of you still tangled up together in a mess of sheets? Who cared if the world was coming to an end and this was the last time the two of you would ever see each other?

He needed you, and as he whispered your name, his voice cracking with emotion, you knew he had no plans of letting you go. Not now, not ever. And when Dean did pop up a few hours later with messy hair and his shirt on backward, he would take a single glance and walk right back out the door, knowing he was going to be okay.

The three of you would be okay, and when the time comes and the world starts ending, you would fight till the very end. Because there is nothing worth fighting for more than your family, and you would do anything to protect the people you loved.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x female!reader #sam winchester/reader #samuel winchester #spn sam winchester #x reader #reader #spnseries #fanfic #fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #jared padalecki #jared padalecki x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fandom #supernatural tv show #supernatural #spn fam #spn fic #spn fanfic #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural series #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #platonic! dean winchester x reader #spnfandom #hurt/comfort #castiel x reader

[my-proof-is-you]

We Can’t Be Friends

Sam x Reader One Shot based on this request!

Summary: You can’t be around someone who broke your heart. You just can’t be friends.

A/N: This is a super long one shot. Sorry, not sorry :)

You

Your lips were inches from each other. You could feel Sam’s breath on your face, Your eyes were closed, the anticipation of the moment you’d dreamed of for so long killing you.

Suddenly, you felt his presence gone. You opened your eyes, Sam had stepped back, his hand running through his hair. 

“We can’t do this, Y/N,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut.

”W-What?” You questioned. 

“We can’t be together. It would never work—it’s too risky. You know that.”

You opened your mouth to argue but no words came out. He wasn’t wrong. Hunters dating each other was rough. There was always something out there that could use you against each other. There was always the threat of losing the other person on a hunt. Young death was common. Getting involved with each other would just make it more painful.

You wanted to scream at him that you could make it work. You wanted to beg him to give it a try. 

But all you did was nod. You swallowed, willing the tears stinging at your eyes to go away.

Sam nodded back, also at a loss for words. He turned, heading down the hallway to his room. When you heard his door close, you finally let the tears fall. 

Three Weeks Later

You

Your sharp hearing alerted you to someone other than Sam or Dean entering the kitchen. Your back was to the entryway as you had been filling your coffee mug. It was six in the morning, and even Sam who was an early riser was never up that early. 

Besides, you knew what the boys sounded like. They had very distinct sounds to their steps—individual ways of breathing that you knew like the back of your hand. 

This person was not Sam or Dean.

You pulled your gun from your waistband and spun around instantly, training your firearm on the intruder. 

The woman raised her hands in surrender instantly, a look of confusion on her face. She looked to be about your age. She had long, straight blonde hair, and doe-like eyes that were a bright shade of blue. Her long legs seemed to stretch on forever in the pair of boxer shorts she wore that were rolled up at the waist. She had a white ribbed tank top on with a flannel thrown over it. 

“There is no good way to enter a room that contains a hunter when they’re not expecting you,” she said, her hands still raised and a small smile on her face. 

“Who are you?” You demanded, unflinching.

”I’m Danielle. I guess Sam didn’t warn you I was here.”

”You expect me to believe you were invited here?” You had a hard time believing Sam had just “forgotten” to tell you about a guest.

”Well, it was kinda last minute…” she trailed off. You studied her awkward expression before realization hit you. She wasn’t just wearing a flannel and boxers. She was wearing one of Sam’s flannels. You weren’t sure about the boxers, but you had a pretty good guess as to who they belonged to. 

A sharp pain shot straight through you as you realized what that meant. This woman had spent the night.

”Oh,” you said lamely. You lowered your gun. 

“Whoa, Y/N, what’s goin’ on?” Dean asked, coming into the kitchen behind Danielle. “We don’t wanna scare off any chicks that actually like my brother,” he joked. 

Dean hadn’t known about what happened between you and Sam a few weeks before. You were pretty sure he knew about your feelings for his brother, but you hadn’t told him about your near-relationship. So to Dean, Sam having a girl stay overnight was just business as usual. 

He didn’t know it was making you bite the inside of your cheek so hard it bled. 

“Sorry about that,” you mumbled. She put her hands down as you put your gun back in your waistband. You turned to Dean. ”You knew she was here?”

”Yeah, Sammy texted me last night. He didn’t tell you?” Dean asked, confused. 

You feigned nonchalance. “Must’ve forgot,” you shrugged. 

“Huh. Well, Y/N, Danielle’s here,” he said, giving your shoulder a small shove as he went to get himself a cup of coffee. 

You realized that regardless of your feelings for Sam, you were being rude. 

“I’m sorry. I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Danielle,” you said, striding over to her and reaching out a hand. She shook it, smiling.

”It’s no problem, Y/N. I would have done the same thing,” she said with a chuckle.

”You’re a hunter too, I take it?” You asked, handing her the mug meant for you and going back to get coffee for yourself again. She sat down at the table and you sat across from her, trying your best to hide your shock at her mere presence. 

One-night-stands weren’t new to you. All three of you had them now and again. You just weren’t expecting Sam to have one so soon after your…incident. 

“Yeah, I met Sam at a shifter case nearby. We got a drink to celebrate when it was over and…well, here I am.”

You smiled lightly as Dean came to sit next to you. You could feel how forced it was, and by the way you could feel his eyes on you, Dean knew, too. 

You spent the next ten minutes getting to know Danielle with Dean before Sam finally stumbled into the kitchen. 

“Well, look who decided to show up,” Dean said. Sam didn’t seem that surprised that Danielle was still there. You watched him as he walked in and came to the table, leaning down and giving her a quick kiss. He turned and walked to the coffee pot, not once making eye contact with you.

”So what’s on the docket today?” Dean asked after taking a sip of his coffee. You were about to respond when Danielle spoke up.

”Well, Sammy and I are going to head up to Colorado for a werewolf case. Then we thought we’d rent a place up there, have a little mini ski vacation.”

Sammy.

We.

Vacation.

Realization smacked you in the face. Danielle wasn’t a one-night-stand. 

Sam was dating her. 

Sam

Sam dared a glance at you from behind his mug when Danielle finished speaking. 

He saw realization, shock, and anger flit across your face at an amazing speed before it turned to a blank mask. 

He was a dick, he knew that. He should have told you he was seeing someone. 

He didn’t even really mean to be seeing someone. He’d met Danielle and had a great night of distraction with her. But when morning came, the gaping hole in his heart returned, and he couldn’t stand it. He needed more distraction. 

Danielle was there. Danielle was sweet and beautiful. Danielle was interested in him.

Danielle wasn’t you, though. 

Before he knew it, a couple of weeks had gone by and he had been calling her up fairly often. He couldn’t find it in himself to tell you, and it hadn’t mattered. But Danielle eventually wanted to see the infamous bunker. So he brought her home. Before telling you.

He knew you’d be pissed. You couldn’t hold it against him forever, though, could you? After all, you’d both agreed it was for the best that you don’t pursue a relationship.

As he watched your face return from blank to your normal easy-going one, he felt a little relief. Maybe you had moved on. Maybe it didn’t bother you that much. 

Sam shook his head a little to clear it, listening back in on the conversation. He needed to focus on the upcoming hunt.

Your phone went to voicemail for the second time. Sam hung up, trying his brother instead.

”Yello?” Dean answered on the second ring.

”Is everything okay?” Sam asked.

”Yeah…why?”

”Where’s Y/N?”

”She’s right here, watching Dr. Sexy with me.”

Sam clenched his teeth and felt his jaw tick. You’d ignored his calls. 

“Sammy?” Dean asked after Sam neglected to respond. 

“Yeah, uh, nevermind. I was just checking in. Danielle and I finished the hunt. We’re gonna spend a couple days up here and then I’ll be home.”

”Alright, brother. Enjoy,” Dean said. Sam could almost hear his eyebrows wiggling. He rolled his eyes and hung up without responding. 

“Everything okay?” Danielle asked, putting her arms around Sam’s neck from behind and placing her face against his. He swallowed, pushing aside his annoyance. 

“Yep, all good.” 

You

Dean hung up the phone and turned to look at you. 

“What?” You asked, feigning innocence. 

“You wanna tell me what that was about?” He asked, eyeing you. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huffed, turning back to the TV.

Dean snatched the remote from next to you, turning it off. “Bullshit. You’ve been weird the last two days. What is going on? Did you and Sam have a fight or something?”

“Or something,” you muttered. 

“Y/N,” he said, staring you down. 

“You know how I feel about him, right?” You asked with a sigh. 

“Yeah,” he replied with a shrug.

”Well, that just makes it…hard to be around him right now. Or talk to him.”

Dean nodded slowly. “But, Y/N, this isn’t anything really new, is it?”

You let out a dry chuckle. “Well, it turns out my feelings aren’t so one-sided.”

”Well I coulda told you that,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Sam’s always been crazy about you.”

You nodded, pursing your lips. You gave him a minute to let what he was saying sink in. 

“Wait, if you know you like each other, why aren’t you together?”

”Because dating when you’re a hunter is a bad idea,” you said flatly.

”But…Danielle’s a…” he trailed off. “Oh.”

”Yeah. Oh.”

”I’m so sorry, Y/N/N. I wouldn’t have been so easy-going about her being here if I’d known,” he said, his eyes shining with regret.

”Don’t worry about it, De. I just…I need some space from him. I don’t think I can be his friend right now.” You felt your face crumple a bit as the words left your mouth. You sniffled, and you saw Dean’s eyes flash with a protective anger.

”I’ll knock some sense into him,” he said, his jaw ticking. 

“Dean, no. I’m a big girl. I don’t need you to beat up your brother for me,” you said with a chuckle. Dean really was your best friend outside of Sam, and you felt your heart swell a little at the thought of him siding with you over his own brother.

”Fine,” he sighed. “But Y/N, you say the word, and his ass is grass.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes, Dean’s antics cheering you up a little. “Got it.”

It was a little harder to avoid Sam when he got back from his “mini-vacation.” He had clearly caught on to the fact that you didn’t want to hang out with him. Not that you were subtle. 

Whenever Sam walked into a room you were in, you mumbled some excuse and left. You could see that it was bothering him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It’s not like he didn’t deserve it. 

He’d tried to talk to you about it a couple of times. You’d been able to avoid the conversation. 

Until now, that is.

”Y/N, stop.” He grasped your arm as you turned to leave the library. You’d come in from the kitchen and seen him there and immediately tried to escape. He was fast, though, and pulled you to a bookshelf, effectively cornering you.

You pulled your arm away from his hand as if he’d burned you. 

“What, Sam?” You asked with very little patience.

”What do you mean, ‘what’? You’ve been avoiding me for the better part of a month,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Yeah, well, you’ve been busy,” you said, emphasizing the last word. 

“I’ve been here almost every day,” he said, clearly not getting what you were saying. “Why don’t you want to hang out with me? I miss you.”

You almost softened your resolve when he said that. But the pain that creeped in when you remembered Danielle put the wall right back up. If he couldn’t see what he’d done, you weren’t going to explain it to him.

”It’s nothing, Sam. I’ve just been busy, too.” You met his eyes but made sure to keep yours blank. He searched them for a moment. “Can I go now?” You asked. 

He nodded, a look of sadness on his face. You slipped past him and out of the library before you could change your mind. 

A few more weeks went by and you could feel yourself becoming less and less like yourself. You continued to give Sam the cold shoulder, and it seemed he had given up trying to get you to talk, too. You spoke with him when it was essential for hunts, but rarely outside of that. 

Danielle had been joining many of your hunts and hanging around the bunker a lot. It was painful to see them together, but she really was a nice girl and a great hunter. It wasn’t her fault you were heartbroken. 

You breathed a sigh of relief when you heard Danielle wouldn’t be coming on the afternoon’s hunt. You were going to the next town over to take care of a vamp nest, which should have been quick and easy.

It wasn’t.

There were more vampires than any of you had thought. The three you killed easily were only a third of what the nest actually was. You each took on two more when they appeared. You could hear the sounds of Sam and Dean fighting theirs off as you lopped off the head of one of yours. The other one, though, got the jump on you. He threw you against the wall with unbelievable force, knocking the wind out of you. 

You laid crumpled on the floor, trying to get your bearings. You had hit your head, and you reached back to feel the bump, your hand coming back red with blood. Your back was screaming, and you could tell you’d at least bruised a few ribs. 

“Stupid girl,” the vampire said, closing in on you slowly. “You killed my family. That cannot stand.”

Your vision was becoming fuzzy around the edges, unconsciousness pulling at you. As the vamp leaned in, fangs bared, his eyes went wide just before his head was gone. It rolled to the floor and his body fell back with a loud thump on the floor. 

“Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?” Sam shouted. He was kneeling down in front of you where the vampire had just been. He held your shoulders and you blinked hard, trying to get your vision to clear. It was useless, though, and you felt yourself go limp before darkness took over.

“Y/N. Y/N,” you heard as you opened your eyes. You blinked against the harsh light of the bunker’s kitchen. You were sat in a chair, Dean holding you up by your shoulders and lightly tapping your face.

”Y-Yeah,” you said, your head pounding. “I’m okay.”

”I’ll be the judge of that,” he replied. He checked you over and when you both agreed that you’d just been knocked out and probably had some bruised ribs, he gave you a glass of water and left to go shower. You were still sitting, and realized that Sam was leaning against the counter, staring at you.

“You scared me,” he said quietly.

You pursed your lips, shrugging. “I’m fine.”

”You’re not fine. We’re not fine,” he said, looking away and shaking his head. 

“Sam, don’t,” you said. You stood up and took a moment to steady yourself. 

“Just talk to me, Y/N!” He said, suddenly walking toward you.

”Why don’t you talk to your girlfriend, Sam?” You said, unable to hide the hurt from your voice. 

Sam’s eye met yours, a look of regret taking over.

“I made a mistake,” he said quietly. 

“You—you made a mistake.” You stated sarcastically. 

“Yeah, Y/N. I made a mistake starting a relationship with Danielle. I still have feelings for you,” he said. He lifted a hand like he wanted to touch you, but dropped it when he saw the look on your face.

You felt the rage bubbling up inside as you held back the tears forming the best you could.

”What do you want me to say, Sam?” You said through gritted teeth. “I’m not going to feel sorry for you.”

He swallowed, his soulful eyes meeting yours. 

“You did this to us, Sam. You chose to date her. You chose this.”

”We both agreed it was better not to try!” He argued. 

“No, Sam. You said it was better. I only went along with it because it was what you wanted! And then you decided to try with her!” You sucked in a breath as the tears fell in an attempt to calm yourself. “She is a good person, Sam. She doesn’t deserve less than one-hundred percent of you.”

You stepped forward, gripping his hand. You brought your eyes up to his. “Be the good man I know you are. Be with her.” You squeezed his hand once before dropping it. You brushed past him and down the hall to your room. Closing the door, you collapsed onto your bed and let the sobs escape. Some time later, you felt the bed dip behind you. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in over your sobs. So much for your hunter ears. 

You knew from the scent of whiskey, cologne, and motor oil that it was Dean, though. He put a hand on your shoulder and pulled you toward him, and you let him. You rested your head on his chest and gripped his shirt as you cried. He kept his arms around you and let you, shushing you and kissing the top of your head. After what felt like hours, you fell asleep surrounded by the comfort of your best friend.

Sam 

It had been a few hours since he’d seen you or Dean, so Sam decided to go looking for you. After looking in all the common areas of the bunker, he carefully opened the door to your room.

Dean met his eyes from his spot leaning against the headboard of your bed and Sam slid his gaze down, taking in your sleeping form. He could see that the space around your eyes was puffy from crying. He took a deep breath in, letting it out in a pained sigh. 

“She been asleep long?” He asked his brother.

Dean just shook his head. “She’s really out, though.”

”Dean—“

”Sam, I don’t want to hear it,” Dean said, cutting him off. “Whatever bullshit reason you have for doing what you did—for doing this,” he said, nodding toward you with his head, “I don’t want to hear it.”

Sam bit the inside of his cheek and looked away, feeling the tears stinging the back of his eyes.

”What am I supposed to do, man?” He asked his big brother, his voice breaking slightly. “I love her.”

Dean’s eyes softened. “You do what’s right. You do what you always should have.”

”I can’t lose her,” Sam said quietly. He worried for a second that Dean wouldn’t know if he meant Danielle or you. 

“I get it,” Dean replied, and Sam wasn’t worried anymore. “But you have to decide what that means for you. Cause you can’t have it both ways.” He looked down at you again, effectively telling Sam that he was done talking. 

Sam left your room, closing the door quietly behind him. 

The right thing. He’d always tried to do the right thing. And look where it’d gotten him.

He knew what he was going to do, right or wrong be damned.

You

You’d woken at some point to Dean sliding out from under you and covering you with your comforter. You were already falling back asleep as he kissed your head and said, “Sleep, sweetheart.”

Now you woke again. Your phone on your nightstand told you it was 11 AM. You’d slept for twelve hours. 

Everything from the night before came rushing back to you. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to calm yourself. Your head throbbed and your ribs ached as you got out of bed and made your way to the bathroom. You showered, the hot water stinging your head wound but soothing your sore muscles. You dressed in your leggings and a t-shirt before throwing one of Sam’s flannels over it. You may not have been his girlfriend—or even speaking to him—but you would be damned if you were going to give up the comfiest piece of clothing you’d stolen from him.

You padded down the hall to the kitchen, noticing how quiet the bunker was. You didn’t know where the brothers were, but decided not to worry about it before you’d even had some coffee. 

You walked into the library, intent on sitting in one of the overstuffed leather chairs by the bookshelves. You stopped, though, when you saw Sam sitting at one of the tables. He wasn’t pouring over any old tomes or looking at his laptop like usual. He was just sitting there, staring at his hands. He looked up then, and you knew he’d been waiting for you.

”Sam, please, I can’t do this again,” you said, not wanting to argue with him.

He stood, walking to you in two long strides and taking your mug, setting it down on the table nearest to you. You watched him in confusion as he came back to stand in front of you. 

“You said I was a good man, Y/N.” He grabbed each of your hands with his, his eyes never leaving yours. “But a good man wouldn’t have broken your heart.”

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes. “Sam—“

”Let me just say this, Y/N/N,” he said softly. You nodded for him to continue. 

“I was trying to do the right thing when I said we shouldn’t be together. I thought it would just be too hard, and I didn’t want to lose you. But being without you created this—this hole in me. So I tried to fill it. I distracted myself with Danielle. I didn’t even really want to be in a relationship with her. It’s not like I forgot what I had just said about dating as hunters. But it was different with her. The stakes weren’t as high.”

You watched him as he continued, his grip on your hands staying firm.

”She only eased the ache for a little bit, though. It always came back. It came back because you are what I need.

”When you got hurt on the hunt yesterday, my heart nearly stopped. It didn’t matter that we aren’t together. Losing you would ruin me, whether we’re together or not. 

“I broke up with Danielle this morning. Maybe that makes me a bad person. I don’t know. I don’t care, though. I’m so in love with you, Y/N. And I can’t go another minute without you in my life.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, and you could feel the tears leaking out of your eyes and down your cheeks. Sam lifted his hands to your face, his thumbs wiping the tears away. 

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said when it was clear you were speechless. You nodded, finding it was the only thing you could manage at the moment. 

Sam smiled lightly and leaned in, bringing his lips to yours. In that moment it was like you had found everything that had ever been missing in your life. You were whole again. You brought your hands up around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. He moaned, wrapping one arm around your back and pulling you flush to him. 

After a few moments he pulled away, his eyes searching yours. You realized you still hadn’t spoken. 

You smiled. “You are a good person, Sam. And I love you, too.”

His face lit up and he pulled you back in for another kiss. 

“Thank God,” you heard from the bottom of the stairs. Dean stood there holding a few takeout bags. “I couldn’t take any more of y’all’s drama.”

You rolled your eyes at your friend before turning back to Sam. “So, do you want to try this?” You asked cautiously.

”Try? No,” he replied. Your heart sank for a moment before he continued. “We’re doing this. You’re it for me, Y/N,” he said, placing a finger under your chin before bringing his lips to yours again. 

You smiled as he pulled away. “Guess we’re friends again,” you joked. 

“Nuh uh,” he said, pulling you close again. “You’re mine,” he whispered in your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Then show me,” you whispered back. Next thing you knew, Sam had thrown you over his shoulder and was marching down the hall. 

“Guess I’ll see you guys later,” you heard Dean call with a chuckle. 

And as Sam tossed you gently on his bed and crawled up, hovering over you, you knew that he finally got it.

Being together was worth the risk.

Forevers:@divadinag @lynne1993 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​  @onethirstyunicorn @sammykb1994 @lilulo-12 @mellorine-paprika @tranquility-or-chaos @collette04 @hoboal87 @chevyharvelle @miraclesoflove @defenderrosetyler @babypink224221 @calaofnoldor @beatifuldisaster018 @coffeebooksandfandom @supernatural3002 @lainxcas @mylovelydame21 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @lovely-lynns-likes @ppeachygemss @screechingartisancashbailiff @metalfangirl @vicmc624 @polina-93 @hobby27 @sexyvixen7 @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @lyarr24 @amelia-song-pond @donnaintx @spnbaby-67 @traceyaudette @gh0stgurl @fiftyshadesgrl @tapedeck-hearts @lacilou @foxyjwls007 @stoneyggirl2 @kr804573 @cumuluscranium

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[scribeofwinchesters]

Secrets and Lies: Chapter 12 - Absolution

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 5,280

Summary: “I can’t change what I did and truly all I want is your forgiveness. Not absolution–or–or salvation… Just… forgiveness.”

Series Rating: Explicit/18+ TW: Rape/Non-con

Previous chapters:  One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Sevenandahalf Eight Nine Ten Eleven

A/N: I hope you all like this chapter and if my story makes you feel something, reblogs, comments, asks, etc are always welcome <3 Alsooo don't worry. This is not the end. I felt like this seemed like an ending so I wanted to be clear. I feel like I've been giving y'all blue balls so don't worry, we're gonna get our smut on real soon, folks! ;) Most likely the next part will also wrap everything up and will be the last part but I'm already working on a new sam x reader fic that takes place at the beginning of s.10 but is a continuation of the same relationship that is present in all my fics.

Tag list: @lauraashley93 @stoneyggirl2 @tiggytaylor @park-simphwa @dottirose

When you first woke sometime later, you continued to drift in and out of consciousness for what seemed like hours. You were faintly aware of Sam’s presence on the other side of you–your feet tangled with his legs as he curved around you. But the meds Dean gave you were strong and continued to pull you back down into unconsciousness. 

In the hazy moments of awareness, you could hear Sam and Dean talking quietly to each other. Their voices lulled you back into a comforted sleep. Another moment, despite your back to him, you could feel Sam sitting back against the headboard, reading. Each rustle of the pages turning was a quiet thrill that made you smile unconsciously in your sleep, even more so when he began using his free hand to casually caress figure eights onto your back.

Sometime after that, you found Sam alongside you, over the blankets but still snuggled against you, his flanneled arm draped over you. He’d laced fingers with yours and held your hand over your heart. You felt him nuzzle his nose into your hair and inhale deeply before gently pressing his lips to the crown of your head. This, combined with the sun shining in from the window by the door and your desperate thirst, was enough to finally push you fully into consciousness. 

The ice bag rested heavily on top of your cheek and was as cold as ever. Dean must have made a fresh one. 

You whined softly as you stretched your legs and let out a yawn. Instinctively, you moved your arms and Sam withdrew his, allowing you to stretch them out in front of you, noticing with each shift the aches in parts of you that you didn’t even know could ache. Your lungs felt bruised, somehow, from the strain the shifter had put on them in its attempt to suffocate you. The large bruises on the back of your arms, your waist, and your thighs where it had coiled itself tightly around you pulsed out painful reminders.

You turned over, taking the ice bag with you, and nestled it between your cheek and the pillow. Each movement brought on more frustration, stirring you further from your sleep as you wrestled with your appendages in a vain attempt to settle into a position that didn’t hurt.. Grasping the top sheet in your fingers, you pulled your hands together and rested them beneath your chin.

You blinked slowly as your eyes adjusted to the light.

Sam was right there, watching you. His face lit up as your eyes settled on his. His shaggy, brown hair was tucked behind his ears and he was dressed in jeans and an old grey and blue flannel. You took stock of the bandages on his neck and cheek and chin and wondered how many more there were that you couldn’t see.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey,” you croaked. A beat passed before you painfully cleared your throat and asked, “When was the last time you laid in bed this late?” 

Sam smirked as he thought about it for a moment. “Laid in bed with you, like this? At three in the afternoon? Hmm…,” his eyes narrowed on you as he thought. “Probably a few months… Was it New Year's Day? … Certainly not often enough.”

Your heart raced and you took as deep a breath as you could manage. Sam wouldn’t be talking to you like this if he hadn’t decided to stay, right?

“New resolution: stay in bed more,” you rasped with a careful smile before a tiny cough caught in your throat and you pulled the sheet over your mouth as you let it out.

“I can get on board with that,” Sam said grinning broadly as he climbed off the bed and made his way around. He grabbed the full cup from the nightstand as you carefully pulled yourself back to rest against the headboard. A groan or a hiss escaped your lips with each painful movement. Sam leaned over you, careful not to spill the water, and adjusted the pillow behind your back before moving the ice bag to the nightstand. He crouched down and handed you the cup which you drank down in seconds, stopping once to cover a painful cough. 

Sam’s brow furrowed as he tried to force his concerned frown into a smile. He grabbed Dean’s steel water container and refilled your cup as you held it out for him. Once he was sure you weren’t going to chug the second cup as well, he joined you back on the bed. This time he sat with his legs crossed under him and faced you. 

You glanced around the room. “Dean?”

“Supply run,” Sam said. You nodded before taking a sip of water. He watched you for several long moments before looking away, as if steeling his nerves. He took a deep breath and when he turned back you saw that his eyes were glistening again, like last night, and you were back in that old place, the place where your heart ached and begged to stop all of his pain and guilt and regret and longed to remind him how worthy and caring and honorable he was and how all the bullshit he’d endured wasn’t on him...

You took another sip and closed that door in your mind. You weren’t sure Sam still wanted you to take care of him in that way and until you were, that wasn’t a weight you could take on… not right now.

“Y/n… I’m so-” 

“I’m okay, Sam,” you said, cutting him off. The corners of your lips twitched up into your best attempt at a reassuring smile. “Dean stopped it. I’m still here. You’re still here. Everything’s okay.” 

Okay, so maybe that door didn’t close so easily…

“Please, y/n, just let me say this,” he said before inhaling sharply. “I— I never should have left.” 

You shook your head at him. “Please don’t do that.”

“What?”

“We both know by now that shit just happens and all any of us can do is be there to help pick up the pieces, maybe stop it if we’re lucky. We’re not always going to be lucky,” you shrugged. “So don’t act like you should have done something–like you could have done something… because clearly, life doesn’t work that way.” 

Sam swallowed hard and looked away from you. “I never should have taken that damn case. I should have given it to Dean. I should have come straight home,” he muttered. 

“Sam,” you said before biting anxiously at your bottom lip. The thing that had been gnawing at the edge of your thoughts was finally ready to bubble out. “Look, I know this has thrown a wrench in your, uh, plans. I still mean what I said the other night–if you’re not ready to come back, don’t do it just because of–because of all this. I’ll be okay for a bit. Awhile even. If you have any doubts… about–about us–I need you to deal with them before you–if you decide to…” You stumbled over your words and took a sharp breath, ready to push past the one word you couldn’t get your mouth to utter. “if you can– if you can forgive me.” 

Sam dragged his hand down his face as the tears started to slip down his cheeks. He pinched his bottom lip anxiously like he did when research was beginning to fail him. Normally, when you caught him doing that, you’d walk up behind him and pull his hands into yours as you leaned over and pecked little kisses down the side of his face until you found his lips, and–still grasping his hand in yours–tilted his face up and pressed your lips to his, taking a long, silent moment before opening your mouth to him and slipping your tongue gently and momentarily between his lips. Your breath turned shallow from the memories and you quickly wiped away a tear as you wondered how you’d ever be able to keep yourself from him. 

Sam stared up at the ceiling a moment before looking back and studying you for a long moment. His brows knit together and suddenly he leaned toward you and pulled you into his arms as he lifted you with an almost disconcerting ease. You fought through the ache in your muscles as you shifted your legs and nestled yourself around his hips before resting your chin on his shoulder and encircling him in your arms. He slowly caressed his fingers up and down your back.

“Sam…,” you said softly against his ear, your chin pushing into his shoulder as you spoke. 

“You know… when I was out in the woods, setting up my tent, hiking the trails, just trying to clear my mind–that plan completely backfired. All I could think about was you. I watched the creeks flowing, saw little pools of minnows and frogs and swimming ducks and I thought of you and how much you’d love it. I saw an owl up high in a tree and I wished I could show you. I watched the sunset and I wished you were there holding my hand, telling me what the colors reminded you of. I stared up at the stars and I swear I saw your face. The moon was a beautiful, clear, perfect crescent–just like you always love to point out to me when you see it. You were everywhere. It was so much that I almost prayed to Cass, sure that he was doing this to me on purpose. But I knew better. It wasn’t Cass or any other magic. It was just… you. My love for you.” 

Your heart caught in your throat and tears streamed down your cheeks as he spoke. You pulled your chin down to the fabric above his clavicle and pressed a kiss into him as you shifted your grip on your forearm, squeezing him tighter as your tears dripped onto Sam’s back. 

“I couldn’t sleep. I debated calling you–debated if I should just pack up and drive back home to you. Then I got news from a hunter about a case close to home and decided I could wrap it up quick and be home in a couple of days and that way you’d still get your space–in case you needed it now–after–after the way I’d treated you that night.” 

“Sam,” you said, whispering his name again. That wasn’t your favorite memory but you didn’t want it to be something he berated himself for forever.

“I know, just let me finish. I need to say this.” 

You loosened your embrace on him and trailed your fingers up his neck, unintentionally eliciting a soft gasp from him at your touch. Your fingers found your target as you brushed them–opened and closed–around his crown, gliding slowly through his hair. His chest, pressed to you, fell and rose shallower now. 

“Oh my god… you're making this… more difficult than I imagined,” he said, his voice strained.  

“Sorry,” you said, the small smile evident in your tone. “It’s just… this last week has been incredibly–excessively–unbearably shitty and I needed you so bad–not needed you, needed you–just–you know–needed you. Dean did his best–the best friend I could ever ask for–but when you hold me–I feel… healed… salvageable… I’m not-”

“Shh…,” Sam soothed you as he gripped your shoulders and pulled you away from him so that he could look into your eyes. “I’m here and I got you and I’m not going anywhere. Now, listen to me. Of course I forgive you, okay? I forgive you a million times over. Tell me you’d make the same choice again and again and I’ll say, ‘Yes, do it’. Tell me you need to wipe my mind again right now and I’ll say, ‘Please’ without giving it another thought. If you made a call then it was the right one. Full stop. I know you, and you know me,” he said, squeezing your shoulders before letting go and cupping either side of your face in his wide palms, ensuring you couldn’t look away from him as he spoke but careful to avoid the laceration on your cheek.

“It took me a little bit to sort through the memories of that night after Cass gave them back to me. At first all I could see was you–bloody, screaming in agony as I lifted you–I woke up hearing that scream in my nightmares, y/n… but then, there it was, a thought that prickled at the back of my mind as I held you so still that my arms were cramping–you didn’t deserve this life and Dean and I were monsters for pulling you into it–for keeping you in it. This is why we don’t do attachments in this life. It’s not safe. And loving me was going to be the death of you.” 

You shook your head and he let go of you, dropping his hands to find yours, weaving each finger with his.

“You were right, y/n,” he said. “Don’t you see? You were right.” 

“No, Sam,” you said, still shaking your head. “Don’t do that. I was wrong, okay? My choices were wrong. I can’t change what I did and truly all I want is your forgiveness. Not absolution–or–or salvation… Just… forgiveness.

Sam closed his eyes and was silent for several long seconds as your words washed over him. Finally, he whispered, “I love you,” and leaned forward to press his lips chastely against yours before he pulled back just enough for his heavy breath to warm your skin. “Is this okay?” he asked. 

You paused, surprised at yourself for not immediately responding, ‘yes’. And realized you were not sure what to make of it, of him. And his beautiful words were too much. It was all overwhelming.

“Y/n?”

“I’m so sorry,” you said as you dropped your head into your hands and squeezed your eyes shut. Fresh tears dripped into your palms as you quietly sobbed.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me–I know you’re Sam. You are Sam. You are my Sam. And I adore you, too. You know that, right?” you asked. “I can’t find all the words right now to convey it the way you did. I’m so–it’s just been a–a shitty fucking week,” you said as you lifted your red, blotchy face up to look at him and took in several slow, deep breaths. 

Sam’s eyes widened with concern and you saw his chest rise and fall rapidly with panicked breaths. “I do–I do know that,” he said as fresh tears misted his eyes. You could see he wanted to comfort you, to hold you, but he wasn’t sure anymore if that was right, so he pulled himself away. 

Your tears came harder then and you gripped the comforter into a ball. You were furious, you wanted to scream out in anguish. You wanted to stop. fucking. crying. But you couldn’t. It all just spilled out and all you wanted was for Sam to wrap you in a hug and hold you and kiss your forehead and stroke your back, but there was another part of you that wanted him to stay away from you–to leave you the fuck alone. 

You felt like you were being torn in two and it was an emotional agony that paled in comparison to what you felt the night you and Sam fought or even the misery of the days after. You stood and fumbled around your boots and clothing, looking for your phone. Sam’s voice sounded like it was being carried over a pool of water that sat above you as he called your name. You ignored him. You found your phone on the nightstand, no doubt plugged in and charged thanks to the ever thoughtful Sam, and made your way to the bathroom where you shut the door behind you, too scared to look back at him. It broke your heart to imagine his expression upon hearing the soft click of the lock but you did it all the same.

You turned the cold knob on the sink and tried to focus on the sound of the rushing water as you cupped your hands under the stream and watched the water rush across your skin in airy streams. It was cool and calming and you splashed several handfuls over your face before patting it dry with the hand towel, careful of your cut. 

You unlocked your phone and called Dean. 

“Y/n?” Dean asked as he answered the phone before the first ring had even finished.

“Dean?” 

“You good?”

“I, uh–yeah, I’m good,” you lied. 

Dean could hear the congestion in your voice and knew you’d been crying. 

In an instant his tone turned gravelly and flat. “What’s wrong?” 

“I just, um, I know it’s Sam but–I don’t know why but I suddenly wasn’t so sure–but that doesn’t make sense because I do know–I do know that’s Sam,” you choked back your tears and swallowed hard. “He–I just…,” you trailed off. There was a silence between you for a moment.

“Y/n, the shifter’s dead, okay? I killed it. And I just got the other one into the trunk so we can burn it, too. I’ll be there in ten but in the meantime, I’m sure Sam won’t mind if you have to test him again to be sure, okay, kiddo?” 

You nodded to yourself. “Okay,” you whispered before sniffing and wiping your nose with the back of your hand. 

“Deep breaths,” Dean reminded you. 

You took a deep breath and winced at the sharp pain in your lungs as you inhaled.

“Sorry,” you said as a guilty tear spilled down your cheek.

“Don’t be. I’ll stay on the phone with you ‘til I’m back,” he said.

You took another deep breath and counted to five before letting it out and counted to five again as you exhaled, ignoring the pain. 

“Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay, Dean,” you said as you hung up the phone before he could counter you.

You glanced in the mirror for the first time since you weren’t even sure when. Your hair was a crazy, tangled mess and your face was stamped with a bright splotch of red across your cheek, an almost perfect handprint. The two butterfly closures held the broken skin together. There was a big, dark bruise forming beneath your eye, above the cut. The shifter really had hit you as hard as it could, which was saying something for a monster. You quickly brushed through your hair with your fingers and pulled it into a manageable but loose bun. You turned to face the door and shut your eyes as you gently shook your whole self, before slowly opening the door. Sam sat at the edge of the bed, waiting quietly as he fidgeted with his fingers.

“You scared me,” he murmured as he looked up at you.

“Sorry,” you said as you hesitated in the doorway. “I know you’re not…,” you trailed off and took a slow step toward him.  “Your whole being–your whole presence is the opposite of it so I know you’re not–but for a second a part of me was there again and–well, without Dean here–I’m sorry. Not that you–” you said, fumbling over your words before Sam cut you off.

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” Sam said. “I know exactly what it’s like to have no idea what’s real and what’s in your head.”

Of course Sam would know; he’d told you vague stories of the torture he’d endured in the cage before you’d met him. The other pieces Dean filled in, about his visions of Lucifer taunting him, and the scar on his palm that reminded him he was safe. When Sam was having a really bad day you’d sometimes gently trace a finger across that scar to remind him of that fact. And on even worse days, when you had a moment alone, you’d peck small kisses to it.

He held his hand out and waited for you to take it as you approached him. When you did, he pulled you to him and wrapped his arms around your hips as he nestled his face into your waist. You twisted your fingers in his hair as he sighed a ragged breath into you. You stood there just like that, silent, as Sam breathed in and out, comforted by your fingers tracing up and down his scalp and twisting idly in his hair. 

“Will it help if you tell me about it?” he asked after a minute. 

You considered the idea. “Maybe–later though, or tomorrow–not yet–and besides, Dean’s gonna be back soon,” you said. He looked up at you. Those big, pitiful–beautiful eyes that you’d walk across shattered glass and hot coals to see just one more time. You didn’t need to cut his arm to know he wasn’t a shifter. This was all Sam. You disentangled a hand from his hair and lightly prodded at his left arm causing him to release you. You slid your fingers down the length of his arm as he bent it up to you. When you reached his wrist you gently grasped it in your palm and pulled it up to your lips so you could press a kiss to his scarred palm. 

“I love you,” you murmured as you released his wrist. He glided his palm across your jaw and cupped it as he rose to his feet. Your other arm slid down and you slipped it under the back of his shirt to hold him just above his hip, urging him to stay close.

“Love you,” he whispered back. He held fastly, now, to either side of your face as he ducked down and pressed his lips to yours. You released his hip and lifted your hands, resting them over his as he held you, ensuring he didn’t release you before you were ready. You opened your lips to him and he hesitated for the briefest second before deepening the kiss and slipped his tongue momentarily along yours. You could feel the electricity buzzing between you as he started to pull back. You leaned forward and captured his lips with yours. 

“More,” you murmured against his mouth. Obedient as always, Sam kissed you back, hungrily now, like he needed your lips on his to sustain himself. He angled your face up and deepened the kiss with his tongue. Gently, he sucked your bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it and going back to your lips for more. You sighed into him as you released his hands. He let one trail over your neck as the other gripped your waist, pulling you closer and eliciting a low gasp from your lips. You cupped the side of his face with one hand as you let the other one return to his hair, just behind his ear where you drew light circles with your thumb. 

“I should shower,” you said, remembering Dean was on his way.

“I’m the one that needs the cold shower,” he whispered with a smirk as you rested your hands on his chest. 

“Oh please, it takes way more than that to get you going.” 

“Don’t be so sure,” he said as he gently grasped your hand and pulled it down so that you could feel his partially stiffened cock beneath his jeans. He smiled at the blush that flushed your cheeks as he shifted sideways, turning his back to the door and walked you backwards toward the bathroom. 

“I really missed you,” he said as he pressed his lips to the juncture of your neck and jaw. 

The roar of the Impala broke the trance and you broke apart. You listened as Dean pulled the car to the door and cut the engine off. Dean entered the room in a rush, not even bothering to shut the car door behind him. He looked to you and then to Sam and arched an eyebrow. You made your way to Dean as Sam sat uncomfortably down at the edge of the bed, tugging at his jeans as he crouched.

“You good, sweetheart?”

“Something like that,” you said as you hugged him. “Thanks for–” 

“ ‘Course,” he said as he continued to study you before glancing again to Sam. “Okay, well, you two ready to put this place in the rearview after we eat a quick bite? Because I sure as shit am,” he said as he clapped his hands and rubbed his palms together. He turned and made his way back out the motel door, leaving it hanging open as he rifled through the back seat before returning with a plastic bag and a paper tray with three sweating cups of ice cold soda in one hand and a brown paper bag that smelled greasy and warm and delicious in the other. The smell awakened your appetite and your stomach rumbled in response. 

“Holy shit, I’m fucking hungry,” you said, eliciting a small chuckle from Sam. 

“Good, cause I got your favorite cheeseburger: extra mustard, extra pepper, add jalapenos,” Dean said as he kicked the door shut behind him and set the drinks down on the table. 

Your mouth watered as you took the bag from Dean and set it on the table, hungrily pulling a fistful of fries from the bag, and stuffing them in your mouth as you took a seat. You didn’t have the heart to tell him your throat may be too sore to enjoy mustard and jalapenos and you were too hungry to really care.

“Hey, those better not be my fries!” Dean shouted. You stiffened and glanced hesitantly in his direction. Sam’s lips twitched up into a small smile at you before he saw that Dean was handing him the plastic bag. 

“Oh, thanks,” he said hesitantly as he squinted at the bag. 

“Only thing around here was a wally-world so those’ll have to do,” Dean said as he made his way back to the table and sat across from you. He pulled one of the cups from the tray and took a long pull. 

You were already three bites into your burger and had dumped the fries on to the paper wrapping when Dean fished his food out of the bag. You turned and watched as Sam pulled a large shoe box from the bag and lifted one of the boots out. They were steel-toe, dark brown work boots. “They’ll definitely do,” he said as he pulled them on and fussed with the laces. To you, they looked closer to something Dean would choose for himself than what Sam normally wore but the options were surely slim.

“You gonna eat, Sammy?” Dean asked a moment later. You looked back to see Sam was still at the edge of the bed, watching you and Dean devour your meals. There was a hesitancy in his eyes that confused you and you furrowed your brows at him. He shook his head and smiled as he stood up.

“So, the bunkers good?” you asked Dean after handing Sam his burger. There were only two seats at the small dinette table so Sam sat at the foot of Dean’s bed and took a careful bite of his cheeseburger. 

“Good as it can be,” he said as he chewed a large bite. “Cass said everything was fine. Had to have been some kind of spell–a cloaking spell or an entry spell–that either the shifter already knew or got from, you know, Sam’s beautiful mind,” he said before taking another pull from his soda.

You grimaced at the thought. Sam let out a guilty huff before leaning his long body off the bed and over to the table and to take one of your fries as he kissed your cheek. 

“S’okay,” you said as he sat back down. You lifted your leg and rubbed your pointed toe along the side of his calf. A pained smile crossed his face as he looked to you.

You finished the last bite of your cheeseburger and took a giant gulp from the soda, tossed a few fries quickly in your mouth and stood up, wiping your hands off with a napkin. “Finish my fries for me, Sam,” you said. “Gonna shower real quick.” 

Sam’s palm rested on his knee and you made sure to pass him closely enough that you could graze two fingers over the back of his hand. His hand twitched reflexively from the sudden, unexpected touch. 

“Be careful of your cut,” he whispered. You smiled tenderly at him from the doorway before turning and shutting the door.

You showered–for the first time since–and it felt so good to finally, really wash the shifter off. You let the hot water relax the tension in your shoulders and neck and scrubbed gently at your scalp with the motel shampoo. You paid extra attention with the sudsy washcloth, trying to make sure you scrubbed every part of you that the shifter touched. It wasn’t enough, you could still feel it and as the memories started to enter your mind, you hurried through the rest of your shower, not comfortable to be alone with your own thoughts. 

When you were done, you put on fresh clothes you had tucked away in your go-bag. More plaid flannel, t-shirts and dark-washed jeans. The clothing was just practical for hunting, more than anything. Although, it was nice to look like you actually belonged with Sam and Dean when you went anywhere. Sometimes you would see other girls in their crop tops or chunky sweaters, baggy jeans and sneakers, floral dresses that cinched at the waist paired with platform boots–all things with even the vaguest whiff of a ‘fashion sense’ and you’d feel a pang of jealousy for yours long lost. 

You brushed gently through your wet hair and pulled it into a quick braid, easy and out of the way, the short pieces fell loose around your face. You peered out of the bathroom. Sam was packing his bag on top of his side of the bed.

He looked up when he heard the door open and turned back to smile at you. The front door hung open and you could hear Dean packing up the Impala.

“You’re so cute,” he said. You shrugged as you slung your duffel over your shoulder. 

You arched a brow at him. “I look like I went three rounds with a lawnmower,” you said with a huff of laughter as you sat at the edge of the bed to pull on your boots, dropping your bag back to the floor.

“I like when you braid your hair,” he said as he brushed one of the loose pieces back and tucked it behind your ear. 

“Cut to me–practicing a dutch braid–then–cue the montage–as I perfect the waterfall braid, the half-up half-down twist, the mermaid, the fishtail and the low plait as ‘Every Little Thing She Does is Magic’ by The Police plays,” you said with a grin as you laced your boots. 

Sam playfully rolled his eyes as he slung his bag over his shoulder before picking up yours and doing the same. 

“I can carry it,” you said, as you stood up and slipped your phone into your back pocket. 

“I know you can,” he said as he indicated for you to walk on in front of him. You shook your head before walking to the car and climbed in the backseat. Dean didn’t protest as Sam, too, climbed in back. You fell asleep, slumped against Sam’s shoulder, hands laced together over his knee as CCR crackled through the speakers.

#sam winchester x reader #supernatural fan fiction #reader insert #sam winchester #spn #sam winchester/reader #supernatural #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fanfiction #sam/reader #sam x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester/you #scribeofwinchesters #sam winchester reader insert

[samsexualdeancurious]

Separate Showers

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 996

Summary: A little post-hunt recovery

Warnings: Ambiguous Reader gender, non-sexual nudity, the bunker's shower room (thank god for Jerry Wanek's set photos lol), fluff

A/N: Just a dumb lil thing I wrote to get it out of my brain.

---

To say today was a long one would be an understatement. It feels like an eternity before you’re finally making your way down the bunker steps ahead of the Winchesters. You feel gross from the long drive. You might enjoy a road trip but even you have a limit and you definitely reached it sometime during these last few hunts.

“I need a fucking shower,” you complain.

“I think we all need a shower.” Dean’s right behind you on the steps, stinking like road sweat. You wrinkle your nose and he gives your shoulder a little shove. “Shut up. Like you’re any better.”

That’s true. The Impala’s AC went out just into Kansas and the last few hours of the drive were absolutely miserable as a result, even with all four windows rolled down. You don’t want to even think about how you might smell.

Sam is quiet as he follows you back to your bedroom. It’s clear your big-brained boyfriend is feeling more than a little overwhelmed and exhausted. He needs some non-diner food, some quiet time, and maybe a nap. Or a run. Knowing Sam, probably a run.

“Separate showers?” you suggest and Sam’s hazel eyes are grateful as he nods. “All right. I’ll meet you back here.”

It took you a little while to get used to the gym shower set-up the bunker has. Even now, you have a strong preference for the stall furthest from the door so the boys won’t walk past you on their way to their own shower. Not like it’s anything Sam hasn’t seen before but there are no shower curtains! It’s the principle of the thing.

Awkward set-up aside, the bunker showers are downright magical. Probably literally magical, knowing the Men of Letters. The hot water never seems to run out, either, which is fantastic. You take your time scrubbing all the sweat and dirt from the road from your body and then waste a little more time just enjoying the steady pounding of water on your shoulders and neck.

When you do finally step out of the showers, the boys are in their own stalls. Sam’s clothes are in a pile on the floor outside the stall right next to yours and as you stop to gather them up along with your own, you can resist peeking in.

“Hi,” Sam says with a soft smile, pushing his hair out of his face.

You can’t help a grin as you lean against the dividing wall, taking in the sight of him. The way the water highlights every perfect curve and point of his body as he tips his head back to get his hair fully under the spray. “Hey, gorgeous.”

“Don’t you dare have shower sex right now,” Dean calls from a couple of stalls down and you can’t hold back a laugh.

Sam shoots you a smirk and leans out of the spray to kiss you softly. While he might look absolutely amazing, especially naked and wet like this, neither of you is really in the mood to do anything even if Dean wasn’t in the room.

“Don’t worry, you’re delicate ears are safe,” you tease as you shoot Sam one last little smile and begin making your way from the room. You don’t look but you’d bet money that Dean flips you the bird as you go by.

You’re sitting on the end of the bed, having completed your post-shower routine, when Sam comes into the room. He’s dressed in just an old pair of lounge pants and the sight of him padding barefoot into the room warms you to your core.

“Feeling a bit better?” you ask as he rubs at his hair with a towel.

He nods, wiping water droplets from his forehead. His eyes are on the item in your hand. You smile and hold the hairbrush out in offering.

“Want me to?”

“Hell yeah,” Sam sighs and you laugh softly.

“Well, c’mere then.”

Sam tosses his towel in the hamper and lowers himself to sit on the floor between your feet, back against the side of the mattress. His hair doesn’t really need to be brushed like this. The man was blessed with magic hair that just needs fingers combed through it after a shower or in the morning to look perfect. It’s really not fair. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy the process of it, though.

You work methodically, taking your time as you start with his ends and make your way up. Sam is practically melting under your hands. When you’re done with the brush, you set it aside and begin gently massaging his scalp. Sam moans softly. His head tips forward and you move your ministrations to his neck and shoulders. In no time, he’s leaning heavy and sleepy against your knee.

“Sa-am,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple. “C’mon. Up.”

He grumbles but allows you to guide him up onto the bed. Once he’s snuggled up against you, head resting on your chest, he’s out in seconds. It’s only early afternoon but you don’t mind holding him while he naps. Not when he snuffles softly and nuzzles against your T-shirt.

A soft knock on the doorframe draws your attention from Sam’s relaxed face to the open doorway where Dean’s standing. He’s dressed completely in his usual jeans and layers but his hair is still damp from his shower, sticking up all over like it does in the mornings before he’s gotten around to style it. You give a little wave.

“He sleeping?” Dean asks, careful to keep his voice low.

You nod.

“All right. I’m going to get started on dinner in a bit. Think he’d be up for something light? I’m thinking some soup and grilled cheese.”

That sounds delicious. Hopefully, Sam will agree. You nod again and Dean shoots you a thumbs up, flipping off the lights and closing the door as he leaves you to watch over Sam’s nap.

#my writing #supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #sam x reader #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester/reader

[berettajane]

Dangerous Woman

Pairing: Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader [platonic]

Word Count: 662

Summary: Reader gets insulted while working a case but the boys have her back.

A/N:  I do not own the picture used! 

“Feds are allowing skirts to do the leg work nowadays, huh?  Don’t eat too many of those donuts there, sweetheart; you’ll lose your figure.  We all know how much you need that to be in your favor,” the robust deputy cackled, cramming the rest of the powdered donut into his mouth, patting your hip with his other hand.

You inhaled deeply, summoning everything within your being to not fuck this guy up. “My excellent marksmanship and interrogation skills are higher up in things that are in my favor than my ‘figure’, pal.  And I’m not just good for a skirt ; I’m best in my unit.  Keep your mouth up and you’ll find that out.”

You hear Sam snort behind you before he regains his composure. 

“Step aside, darlin’,” you hear behind you.  You turn to see Dean rubbing his hands together as he licks his lips.  “Nothing gets between a man and his donuts.”  

Having not heard the exchange between you and the deputy as he had been flirting with the receptionist, Dean unknowingly throws you over the edge with his comment.

You turn, stalking off to search for some space to breathe in peace.

 “She’s pissed, isn’t she?” Dean muffles around his mouthful.

“Yeah,” Sam sighs.  “I got her,” he mumbled as he turned to follow you down the hallway of the police station.  Even with your short stature and being in heels, you were able to put some distance between you.  Sam breaks into a light jog, quickly weaving through staff as he follows the sound of your heels down the hallway.

“Y/N!” he calls your name, putting the “agent” facade aside for the moment.  You turn on the ball of your foot, causing Sam to stop short to keep from running into you.

“Don’t you dare come down here defending that asshole, Sam,” you warn, stepping towards him with your finger raised and your eyes narrowed.  Sam puts his hands in the air as if asking for a cease-fire.

“I’m not here to defend anyone.  I’m here to check on you and calm you down.”

“I am no less of a hunter or investigator just because I’m a woman, and I know I’d be a better cop or agent than that piece of shit,” you quitely fume, leaning your back against the wall of the hallway.

“Without a doubt,” Sam agreed with you.  You look up at him stoically, feeling as if he’s only agreeing with you to placate you so that you can focus on the case again.  You begin to walk further down the hall towards the exit, only for Sam to lightly grab your upper arm.  You look down at his hand before meeting his eyes, a daring glare on your face.

“Y/N, you know that Dean and I see you as our equals, right?” he asserts, his voice low.

“Equal to the legendary Winchesters?” you whisper sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

“Equal to us as men, as human beings,” Sam clarifies.  “We don’t dismiss that you’re a woman, but we don’t believe you’re limited by it either,” he paused to tilt your chin up so your eyes met his. “There isn’t anyone on this planet we would choose over you to have our backs day in and day out.  I sincerely apologize if we’ve made you feel any other way up ‘til now.”

You smile at him thankfully.  “C’mon, let’s go bust this case open, now that we’ve got the chick flick moment out of the way.”

Sam belly laughs, shaking his head as he dutifully follows you, happy to see confidence back in your strut.

Meanwhile...

Dean encroaches into the deputy’s space, “Yeah, you ever touch her again, I’ll break your face.” Dean snarls, “And then, I’ll let her finish you.”  He claps the deputy on his back before breaking into a wide grin when you walk back into the room with Sam in tow.  “Ah, Agents!  Let’s get this rolling, shall we?”

Masterlist

AO3: BerettaJane

#berettajane #supernatural #dean x reader #sam x reader #protective dean #feminism #supernatural blurb #platonic #reader insert #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester/reader #dean winchester x you

[zepskies]

Patched Up (II)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader Summary: How Sam thanks you for treating his wounds.    

This is part of a 3-part series with Sam, Dean, and Castiel.

Word Count: 570 Warnings: Fluff, mentions of blood

Part II: Sam

He worked while sitting at the dining table. All the supplies he needed were laid out in front of him. 

Sam’s hands were steady while trying to stitch the cut on his side, but it was at an angle difficult for him to reach. From your spot on the couch, you could hear him when he sucked in pained breaths every now and then. 

He said he could do it himself, and you believed him. But the longer you surreptitiously watched him, the more you were unwilling to just sit there and do nothing. 

He glanced up at you when you came over and rested a soft hand on his knee. He offered you something of a smile, just a bit strained. 

“Can I help?” you asked. 

“I’ve got it,” he assured. You bit your lip, glancing at the blood dripping down his skin. 

“You’re about to stain the hardwood floor,” you tried teasing. His lips twitched at a better smile. You implored, “Please?”

When you pulled those eyes on him, it wasn’t often that Sam could say no to you. You were so sincere about it, not joking or playfully ribbing at him like usual (or like Dean would). So he relented, handing you the needle and thread. 

He watched you focus yourself and continue what he started. All the while, Sam tried not to stare at you too much. It was an oddly intimate thing, having you so close, touching his skin, even if it was for a purely clinical purpose. 

Maybe it was because he knew you cared. You knew he’d gotten hurt and slashed a thousand times before, and would again. But you cared. He saw it in the way you took pains to measure and pull each stitch—in a way he hadn’t quite seen before outside of a hospital. It looked professional. 

“Did you forget to tell us you’re a trained nurse?” he asked, only half-teasing. You glanced up at him in amusement. 

“High school Home EC,” you replied. “You should see me with a crochet needle.” 

Sam huffed a short laugh, smiling in apology when you narrowed your eyes at him for disturbing the stitch. Soon enough you were finished, tying off the thread with a looping double knot.   

He steeled himself at the feeling of your hand lightly resting on his abdomen while you leaned over to grab a damp paper towel. You cleaned the blood from his skin, then your own hands, and you sat back to look at the wound from all angles. 

“Well, I’m no nurse, but I think it’s okay,” you said. 

There you go, selling yourself short. Sam smiled, shaking his head. 

“It’s perfect, thanks.”

You looked up at him, and that smile on your face brought a swell of affection rising in Sam’s chest. But he could also swear he saw a blush staining your cheeks. 

Sam couldn’t help it. He reached out and brushed his thumb against your warm cheek.

Your eyes widened, but you didn’t pull away when he slowly leaned in. And he pressed a lingering kiss to your lips. 

It momentarily short-circuited your brain. He backed off a little to gouge your reaction, a silent question in his eyes. All you knew was that your lips were tingling and you wanted him to kiss you again. 

So when he did lean in a moment later, you had an answer ready for him. 

Onto Part 3: Castiel!

Or check out Part 1: Dean.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester/you #sam winchester/reader #sam/you #sam/reader #spn #spn fanfics #spn fics #spn fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fics #romance #fluff #zepskies writes

[justagirlinafandomworld]

games will play themselves out

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Song Prompt from Unclaimed Love Songs: Falling Slowly by Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova

Word Count: 100

Follow-up to Half Timing, Half Luck

Sam was deep in his internet search when Dean joined him at the high table chuckling. Without looking up from his screen and while taking the coffee held out to him, Sam asked what was so funny.

"Oh, just letting some poor girl down."

"You mean you didn't meet your soulmate while getting coffee?" Sam forced the shock into his tone before sipping his drink and grimacing. "This is yours."

Dean made an agreeing sound before adding, "she's cute though."

Sam rolled his eyes and slid the laptop over to his brother. Despite himself, his eyes wandered the little café.

next >>

#unclaimed love songs flash fiction challenge #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester/reader #sam winchester/you #sam x reader #sam x you #sam/reader #sam/you

[marerosa]

P L E A S E

|| sam winchester x afab!reader

disclaimer ; the content below is 18+, if a minor or uncomfortable with sexual content please click away, I am not responsible for the media you consume or interact with

summary ; Sam likes to go slow, you’re a little impatient

notes ; this all started because of that picture, idk it just does something to me yk

warnings ; f receiving oral, teasing, marks, mentions of a bad hunt

────────────────────────

-

Sam’s lips are soft against your sternum, kisses being trailed the farther down he moves on the bed, his hands warm against your hips. He moves slowly but teasingly at sucking light marks into your skin.

“So gorgeous baby.” He murmurs against your lower stomach under the golden lighting of the hotels lamps. Sam’s teeth nip at your hip bones, just by your underwear line, his tongue slipping under them before he hooks two fingers to drag the damp cloth off you.

“Sam please-.” He’s such a tease on normal occasions but the added tenderness from just finishing a rather jarring hunt makes you ten times needier.

Your pleas don’t go unanswered though, Sam’s tongue pressing flat against your slit before he drags the muscle up to your clit. The sensation is nothing short of heavenly and the moan it brings from the back of your throat is enough to let Sam know.

“Taste so good.” Vibrations from Sam’s voice send shoots of pleasure straight to your core, your hips automatically rocking up into his face as he laps at your wetness tentatively.

“Sam—.” You arch up against the bed when his nose bumps into your clit in time with his tongue pushing into your dripping entrance.

“Please Sam, please.” It’s a whine you can’t even try to cover, he’s moving so slow, forcing your hips down with his hands so you stop squirming.

“Shh, just be patient.”

#sammy writes #sw #sam winchester #sam winchester/reader #sam winchester x reader #guys I’m only on season 1 so if this is out of character just shhhhh

[lunarsaturn88]

Loose Lips- Sam Winchester

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Imagine Sam being very loose-lipped while he’s on pain medication and confessing that he loves you

Warnings: Injury

@thefandomimagine

Words: 478

You looked at Sam who was sound asleep in his bed in the bunker. You were worried about him because he had gotten severely injured this time and it worried you that he was becoming reckless. You hoped that it wasn’t because of you, but it was because he had saved you from getting hurt and in turn getting hurt himself. 

You let out a soft breath as you moved forward and stroked some of his long hair back from his face. “You shouldn’t have done that.” You whispered pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “I would have been alright on my own.” You honestly weren’t sure why you were saying this now but it was the only thing that you could say to him while he was sleeping. You felt terrible that he hurt himself because of you. 

You pulled back as you looked him over only to see a pair of stunning hazel eyes staring back at you. You bit your lip softly. 

“Y/N hey…” He said rather groggily looking up at you with blurred eyesight. You were beautiful in his eyes and he wasn’t about to have anything happen to you. You were too important to him and he just didn’t know how to say that out loud to you and admit his feelings towards you. 

“Hey, Sammy.” You said softly looking at him with tear-filled eyes.

 “Hey, why are you crying?” He asked softly reaching out to touch your cheek softly. 

“It’s all my fault that you got hurt.”

“Y/N… it’s never your fault pretty girl.” 

You blinked a few times. Pretty girl? That was a new one. He never called you pretty girl. Why would he be calling you a pretty girl? “Sam, how is it not my fault…” 

“It’ll never be your fault.” 

“Pretty girl?” You questioned softly. “You’ve never called me pretty girl before.” 

A dopey smile came to Sam’s lips. “You’re my pretty girl.” He said rather drunkenly in his haze of pain meds. 

You gasped softly as you looked at Sam wondering why he would even be saying that.

“You’re my Y/N… mine…” 

Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. You never expected feelings to be admitted when someone was doped up on pain meds. You supposed it was with how much he needed to take that he was going to be rather loose-lipped with you. You shyly looked away from him.

“I love you, Y/N. That’s never going to change.” 

Your heart beat quickly in your chest. You had to know when he wasn’t so doped up on pain meds if he was stating was true to you at that very moment. You could only hope that it was true and not going to be a huge letdown. But you had to wait and see to talk to him about this little admittance of feelings. 

#Sam Winchester #Sam Winchester/Reader #thefandomimagine #imgaine #oneshot

[love-from-the-other-side]

the two AO3 tags i read the most, before and after i filter them down:

here’s a little bonus because it’s what i’m reading rn:

#AO3 #archive of our own #fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #destiel #dean winchester/castiel #castiel/dean winchester #batman 2022 #the batman 2022 #sam winchester/reader

[star-wrote]

send in angst requests please!! i think i wanna try writing angst bc i have a feeling it’ll come easier than writing fluff :/

#angst #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd #twd daryl #daryl x you #daryl dixon headcanon #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester/reader #sam winchester angst #request

[natti-ice]

18+ mdni

Me: “fuck, I need his cock”

Him: *is literally just words on tumblr*

#natti’s 18+ #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #tom riddle x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x reader #rafe cameron x reader #jj maybank x reader #peeta mellark x reader #finnick odair x reader #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #peter parker x reader #bucky barnes x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #castiel x reader

[my-proof-is-you]

You’re On Your Own, Kid - Part 2

Inspired by a line of the song You’re On Your Own, Kid by Taylor Swift that I feel fits the hunter lifestyle: 

You’re on your own, kid

You always have been

Summary: You’re used to being on your own. You’d been on your own as long as you could remember. Could Sam show you that it isn’t the only way to live?

Sam x Reader

Masterlist

You

Your eyes snapped open the second you heard the door creak. You reached under your pillow for your gun before remembering that you were stuck in some kind of bunker, sans weapons.

After you remembered that, you relaxed a little, though your guard was still up knowing that you were in the home of two hunters you didn’t know. 

“Here,” you heard someone say gruffly from the doorway. You blinked harshly at the light from the hallway but reacted quickly enough to catch the bottle of water coming your way. You realized then how dry your mouth was and opened it, quickly downing almost the whole bottle. 

Dean leaned in the doorway, arms folded. You could tell he wasn’t your biggest fan, and the feeling was mutual. Still, he was allowing a complete stranger to heal in his home, so you couldn’t be too annoyed with him.

”Thanks,” you said, chucking the empty bottle back to him.

He merely grunted. He turned and left, seemingly satisfied that you’d taken in more liquid. 

You decided to scoot to the edge of the bed and attempt standing. Your bladder was screaming and you could only assume the place had a bathroom somewhere.

You stood slowly and shakily, happy when you made it upright without falling over. The second you took a step, though, your legs wobbled and you started to fall. 

“Whoa, Bambi,” Sam said, wrapping an arm around your waist and keeping you from hitting the floor. “You gonna make a habit of this?” he asked.

”I was fine, Sam,” you said, annoyed. Not only did you not like having a stranger’s arm around you, but you definitely didn’t like needing to be saved. 

“Sure,” he said, chuckling in a way you were starting to become accustomed to. “Where are you trying to go?”

You sighed. You knew you didn’t have enough strength yet to walk on your own. And as annoyed as that made you, you also resigned yourself to the fact that you didn’t have a choice but to let Sam and his warm, strong arms help you along.

Warm, strong arms? Where did that come from?

”Bathroom,” you responded finally. 

“Let me walk you?” he asked. You both knew you didn’t really have a choice, so you appreciated that he even bothered to ask. 

“Okay,” you relented. “But just to the door. I’ll take it from there,” you added, snapping at him. 

He slowly walked you down the hall, his arm never moving from your waist and his other hand grasping yours to give you more support.

”So, how did you sleep?”

“Fine,” you said flatly. The truth was that you’d slept the best you had in a very long time. You were sure that it was partly because you were so exhausted from blood loss, but you couldn’t discount the fact that you’d slept in a bed that wasn’t a crappy motel bed for the first time in years. 

He didn’t need to know that, though.

”I’ll give you a few minutes,” he said as you reached the bathroom. “You should be able to hold on to the counter to get around in there. There’s extra toothbrushes and toiletries under the sink. When you’re done, I’ll help you to the kitchen. Dean’s making breakfast,” he finished with a smile. 

You raised an eyebrow at him. 

“What?” he asked, confused by your look.

”Why are you being so nice to me?” you asked, your glare unwavering.

”My brother and I have had to patch ourselves up more times than I can count. I’m sure you have, too. It wasn’t until we moved in here that we were really able to do a better job and heal more efficiently. If I can help someone else do that, then that’s what I’m going to do,” he said with a shrug. He turned and walked down the hall to give you privacy. 

You rolled his words around in your head. It all sounded great, but you couldn’t help but wonder when the other shoe would drop. 

There was always another shoe. 

Sam

Sam helped you ease down onto the bench at the kitchen table before turning to get you a mug of coffee. You nodded in thanks, sipping the steaming liquid right away.

”Eggs and bacon,” Dean said gruffly, setting a plate down in front of you. Sam could practically see you drooling. You dug in after muttering a quiet ‘thanks.’ 

The three of you ate in silence for a while. Sam spoke up first, though, his curiosity getting the better of him.

”So, Y/N, been hunting since you were fourteen? How’d you get into the life?” He knew it was a risky question. Getting into hunting was almost always brought on by tragedy. 

“Why don’t you tell me yours, and we’ll see if I wanna tell you mine,” you said, almost as a challenge. 

Everything that had happened to the Winchesters never really got easier to talk about. He wasn’t going to back down, though. 

“Our mom was killed by a demon when I was a baby. He bled in my mouth and turned me into a psychic freak. Our dad hunted him until the day he died. We grew up hunting, and I left to go to school. Came back, though, when the demon that killed our mom killed my girlfriend.”

He watched as your mouth opened and closed several times. 

“Geez, Sammy, don’t sugarcoat it or anything,” Dean said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Sam shrugged. It was the truth, and he felt like you weren’t really one to beat around the bush anyway.

”Sorry,” you said quietly, but with sincerity in your eyes. You paused for a moment, and Sam wasn’t sure if he’d made you uncomfortable. 

“Did you catch the bastard?” you asked finally. 

Sam laughed humorlessly. “Yeah. Dean shot him between the eyes with the Colt,” he said, nudging his brother with his elbow. You nodded, seemingly slightly impressed.

”So?” Sam urged, not willing to let it go. Usually he was much more sensitive with people. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into him.

You sighed. “Parents were killed by a werewolf while I was at a friend’s house. Came home to their bodies and a hunter in the process of killing the wolf. He explained everything to me, and that’s how I ended up in the life.”

”Wow. Sorry to hear that, Y/N.” Sam said, his heart breaking to think of teenager-you losing everything like that. 

“Yeah, well, my parents were never really around anyway,” you said, not looking at either Winchester. “High-powered-business-types, you know?”

Sam nodded. “Still, couldn’t be easy, being on your own so young.”

”I was always on my own, Sam. My parents dying didn’t change much.” Sam could hear the aching in your voice, even if you did try to disguise it.

You cleared your throat. “Thanks for breakfast. I’ll think I’ll be fine tomorrow. I’ll head out then.”

”There’s no rush, Y/N,” Sam said. It was true, they had plenty of space in the bunker. Sam didn’t want you to leave regardless, though. He wanted to get to know you better.

”Like I said, Sam. I’ve always been on my own.” You stood up slowly and Sam stood too, ready to help you. You held out a hand to stop him, though, and took a few wobbly steps before you started down the hall to your room alone.

Sam bit the inside of his cheek as you disappeared down the hall. 

“Well, shit, Sammy. What’re you gonna do now?” Dean asked, not even bothering to hide his amusement. Of course he could tell Sam didn’t want you to go. He knew everything about Sam.

He didn’t respond, though, turning and heading to his own room instead. He’d think of some way to get you to open up—some way to get you to consider staying longer. 

Forevers:

@malfoysqueen14 @divadinag g @lynne1993 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @onethirstyunicorn @sammykb1994 @lilulo-12 @mellorine-paprika @tranquility-or-chaos @collette04 @hoboal87 @chevyharvelle @miraclesoflove @defenderrosetyler @babypink224221 @calaofnoldor @beatifuldisaster018 @coffeebooksandfandom @supernatural3002 @lainxcas @mylovelydame21 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @lovely-lynns-likes @ppeachygemss @screechingartisancashbailiff @metalfangirl @vicmc624 @polina-93 @hobby27 @sexyvixen7 @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @lyarr24 @amelia-song-pond @flashxspn @donnaintx @spnbaby-67 @traceyaudette @gh0stgurl @fiftyshadesgrl @tapedeck-hearts @lacilou @foxyjwls007 @winchestergirl2

#supernatural fanfiction #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #spn fanfic #supernatural imagine #sam winchester #angst #fluff #sam winchester/reader #sam/you #sam x you #sam x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester/you #spn fanfiction #supernatural fandom #supernatural family #supernatural fluff

[scribeofwinchesters]

Secrets and Lies: Chapter 11 - Rope

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 4,660

Summary: “You look at her like that again and I will make sure you die screaming."

Series Rating: Explicit/18+ TW: Rape/Non-con

Previous chapters: 

One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Sevenandahalf Eight Nine Ten

A/N: Definitely recommend catching up or re-reading before this chapter since we have some callbacks to chapter 1 here. Thank you all for showing me so much support after being gone for so long <3 This might be my personal favorite chapter yet :) Most of it's been written for years but had lots of rewrites and edits as I worked through it and came back to it again and again during my hiatus, so if there's anything that doesn't connect or track, please DM me so I can fix it! I've reread it like eight times, though, so I think we're good... I hope you all like it and if my story makes you feel something, reblogs, comments, asks, etc are very welcome <3 as always, link to AO3 if you prefer.

Tag list: @lauraashley93 @stoneyggirl2 @tiggytaylor @park-simphwa

You yanked hard on the door and sure enough, the door drug across the jamb and you had to give it a second hard pull to get it fully open. As soon as it was free Dean was right there, gun pointed ahead of him as he let his eyes adjust before quickly clearing the area to the left and the right. Just as planned you were directly behind him, gripping your gun but keeping it pointed safely toward the ground. 

The interior was completely dark except for rows and columns of sporadically blinking green and orange lights to the left. As Dean stepped in, you followed, remaining so close to him that you could literally feel your breath warming his neck. Dean should’ve known better than to exaggerate when telling you to do something that you didn’t want to do. He took another careful step inside and reached along the wall for a light switch. 

As he did, there was suddenly a soft tumble of footsteps and Dean deftly reached behind him to grip your arm and pull you along with him as he ducked to the right, pressing you safely between him and the wall. 

The shadowy form of a person was visible somewhere ahead of Dean, outlined by the blinking lights. It was wielding some kind of weapon that you couldn't make out in the darkness until it glinted in the light and you could see the flash of a long, sharp point. The figure darted into the darkness and from somewhere across the room you heard a deep, stifled scream. 

Dean gripped his gun with both hands and aimed it at each corner of the room, hoping to catch sight of some kind of movement. 

You shifted your handgun to one hand and silently pulled your silver blade from its holster and gripped it tightly. You scrapped it along the wall, using it’s extra length to find your mark. After a short moment it caught on the switch and the room was flooded with a dull, fluorescent haze; the bulbs flickered and buzzed faintly before steadying on. 

Momentarily blinded by the sudden light, you narrowed your eyes and squinted as they adjusted.

You peeked around Dean as you sheathed your blade. Your stomach dropped. 

There, in the middle of the room, was Sam. He was tied up in a chair, ropes tight around his wrists and ankles and mouth. He’d been stripped down to nothing but his boxers and socks and there was blood splattered on the ground beneath him. Sam had a black eye and a horrific mixture of blood and sweat dripped from his forehead. He had a handful of cuts and gashes across his chest. He caught sight of you and your eyes locked together. The marble pinged against your insides again as you saw Sam’s bloodshot eyes glisten with tears. Your heart caught in your throat and you could feel yourself forgetting to breathe. 

Sam glanced to his left, drawing your eyes away from him.

You froze. 

Standing in the dark corner, just a few steps away from Sam, was the last thing you expected to see...

It was...

you? 

Not current you... but clean, moisturized, fresh-faced, hair-brushed-and-styled-with-the-perfect-flounce-you-could-never-quite-achieve-despite-many-frustrating-hours-spent-fussing-over-it… you.

It was fully dressed in clothes that looked like something you’d wear if you had time to put thought into your outfits, and to top it off, she was wearing Sam’s wellworn green jacket and a blue flannel and something about that made your stomach churn. It held a long, jagged blade comfortably in it’s outstretched arm as it grinned and you pulled yourself back behind Dean as you tried to catch your breath. 

“ ‘Bout time you guys joined the party,” it said cheerfully and took a careful step toward Sam. It was bizarre hearing your voice come from another person… thing… it. 

“That’s close enough,” Dean warned as he pointed his gun at the shifter. 

“Oh, Dean,” it said as it suddenly dropped and rolled skillfully behind Sam. Dean fired his gun at the movement but missed the target, leaving a small smoking circle in the machinery. You jerked at the sudden sound and took a moment before taking in a deep, stabalizing breath. 

“Come on, after the last few days, Dean, stuck at home with… me,” it smirked as it slowly crouched over Sam and held the jagged blade to Sam’s throat.  “The sad, pathetic thing you rescued from purgatory,” she mocked with an exaggerated pout. “Listening to her whining, holding her as she cried, falling asleep on the couch as you held her… we both know you were dying to put a bullet in both of your heads just to get the pathetic misery to end.” 

You studied the back of Dean’s head, imagining the furious expression flashing across his face.

The shifter pulled the edge of  it’s blade through Sam’s sweat-slicked hair, causing the tip to graze against his check and scalp, just light enough to not break the skin. Sam flinched reflexivly and squeezed his eyes shut. The shifter sneered at Dean for a moment before catching your eyes as you peaked over Dean’s shoulder. 

It smiled and narrowed its eyes at you as it licked it’s tongue across it’s teeth. “Looking a little rough there, sister. My brother got a few good hits in at least. Tell me, how far did he get before you noticed? One finger? Two? Balls deep?” It laughed. 

“Stop it,” Dean seethed. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” the shifter sneered as it pressed the blade ever so slightly against Sam’s throat, drawing beads of blood to the surface. Sam winced and you felt the rage building inside of you. It took every ounce of control you had to stay put. 

You locked eyes with Sam as tears spilled from his wide, horror-filled eyes. The throbbing ache in your cheek was a painful reminder of earlier that night and you watched as his eyes drifted over it. 

The shifter crouched down again and licked Sam’s ear while looking at you. “Am I doing it right?” it asked before brushing your… its fingers through Sam’s hair and jostling his head around simply for the sake of reminding you who was in charge. 

“That’s what you asked the first time you put Sammy’s cock in your mouth, isn’t it?” it drawled right into his ear, its eyes still locked on you. 

Your heart raced, and you squeezed your eyes shut as the throbbing ache in your cheek worsened from your rapid pulse. You rested a palm against Dean’s shoulder to steady yourself as you felt yourself losing balance. All you could think about was rage. But for Sam’s sake you couldn’t let its taunts get the better of you. That was easier said than done. 

“You look at her like that again and I will make sure you die screaming,” Dean bellowed as he stepped fully in front of you, blocking you completely from the shifters view and sadly, from Sam. “Your brother went quick. Couple silver bullets and he was down. When I’m done with you you’ll be begging for a bullet, do you hear me?” 

You heard a brief squelching sound and something heavy and wet spilled to the ground.

“I needed to catch up,” Sam sneered. 

But it wasn’t Sam. It was the shifter, transformed now, into Sam.

“Mmmm, that’s some sweet, sweet pain and guilt, Sammy,” the shifter hummed. “Delicious..."

It pressed the knife further into Sam’s neck. Sam grimaced as the blood dribbled down his neck. All you could hear was Sam grunting in pain. 

“Your gun,” it said.

Dean dropped the gun, letting it swing from his pointer finger as he spread his arms.

“Cut the crap. What do you want?” Dean asked.

“I told him not to go after you Winchester’s,” it spat. “But he insisted.”

“Refresh my memory, would ya? What did we do to you anyway? We haven’t hunted a shifter in years.” 

You could hear Sam breathing rapidly as he tried and failed to catch his breath. 

“Charisse.” 

Dean hesitated. “Who the fuck is Charisse,” he asked under his breath. 

“The witch… from the other day… my last hunt with Sam,” you whispered. 

Dean gave you a small nod without breaking eye contact with the shifter. 

“Since when do shifters and witches work together?” Dean asked. 

“Please, Dean… we both know you don’t care,” the shifter replied. 

Dean shrugged again. “Eh… normally you’d be right, I don’t really care what you monsters get up to when you’re not hurting people. But a witch and shifters working together? Well, that’s not something I’ve ever seen before.” 

“Charisse was like a mother to us,” the shifter said as he stood, still holding the blade to Sam’s throat. “She fed us and took care of us and gave us advice about moving through the world as monsters that people like us never get. And in return we helped her… well, pay the bills…,” 

“So you were thieves,” Dean said. 

You silently crouched and glanced around Dean, desperate for a view. You caught sight of the shifter standing above Sam. The grip on its blade had loosened as it spoke. The top of Sam’s head reached just beneath the neck of the shifter but in Sam’s frame, with his broad shoulders, there was a clear shot; a small shot, but a clear one. 

As you stood, hidden behind Dean, and his open jacket which added several inches to his frame, you took advantage of the cover to check that the safety on your gun was released. 

“Don’t move,” you whispered so that only Dean could hear you. 

“So mommy dearest bites the big one and your brother decides to get revenge,,” Dean vamped to keep the shifter distracted. “You both came to this town and got up to no good in order to draw out Sam. But brother got dead and now it all rests on your shoulders. Did I miss anything?” Dean asked, taunting the shifter. 

As he spoke you slowly, carefully and silently turned so that your back was to Dean’s and aimed your gun forward, ignoring the throbbing in your cheek. You were going to have to move quickly or the shifter would get the drop and… and… well, that didn’t matter because it wasn’t going to happen. Your took a deep, steadying breath. 

As the shifter began to reply you swiftly and carefully spun around on one foot, ready to aim your gun at the shifter’s head.

It looked and sounded every bit like Sam and if it weren’t for the fact that he was sitting right there that may have given you pause. You aimed and without a whisper of hesitation, fired off a single silver round into its head. It dropped the blade, sending it cascading across Sam’s front before clattering to the ground. The shifter stumbled backwards and Dean made a break for it, crossing the room in several long strides as you dropped your gun and sprinted to Sam.

Dean pinned the shifter down with his knee digging into its back as he pulled its arms behind its back and bound them tightly at the wrists. It was unnecessary, though, it was as dead as the one you’d left at the bunker.

“Nice shot,” Dean said as he examined the thing. For the second time in just a few hours Dean had to deal with the lifeless and bloodied body of his brother.

You stood over Sam and leaned over him, your fingers trembled with adrenaline as you fumbled with the knot on the rope between Sam’s lips.

“Y/n,” Sam whispered between his panicked breaths the second his mouth was free. You crouched down in front of him as you deftly cut the ropes off his wrists and ankles, hardly pulling your eyes away from his for more than half a second.

You looked him over as he stood carefully. In addition to the blackeye he was bruised on his thighs and abdomen and there were deep, red rashes around his wrists and ankles. Sam’s eyes hung on you but he wasn’t looking into your eyes. He was examining you, studying whatever it was that Dean saw in the car earlier that made him wince. 

Without even thinking, you found yourself pulling your silver blade from your boot. “I’m… I’m sorry,” you said. “But I have to.” 

He nodded and pulled his hand into a fist as he held his arm out. Sam watched your eyes as you swiped the blade across his arm, drawing out a thin trail of blood. He winced and inhaled sharply, all the while never peeling his eyes away from you. 

You let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. It was Sam. It was really Sam. You dropped your blade to the ground with a clatter.

While you wanted nothing more than to leap into his arms and wrap yourself around him, to cling to him, you were still unsure of everything. You stopped short of a hug and instead stood there like an idiot, frozen, as you stared up at him. You had to remind yourself to breathe, again. He stared down at you, holding your gaze now, before briefly glancing to the side of your face and back. 

Dean picked up your gun and blade before giving the room a quick once-over. The electronic components, flashing green and orange, were kept to one side, opposite of the desk.

Sam caught your eyes lingering on the pile of rope and the blood spatters around the chair and pulled you to him. You wrapped your arms around his waist and inhaled deeply as he rested his chin on the top of your head. “I’m okay,” he whispered. 

You felt your insides return as he held you. Your heart and lungs and thoughts all fell back into place, stopping the pinging marble in its tracks as the walls crumbled. The marble, with one last ping, lodged into your heart. You were whole again… mostly.

“God, Sam,” you said, fighting back your sobs. “I… I-” 

He brushed his hands over your hair and tenderly shushed you. “I’m here,” he said softly.

“Is it dead?” Sam asked Dean, his tone hard as he continued stroking his palms carefully over you. You caught Dean giving Sam a small, silent nod as you pulled away, ready to not spend another second in this place. Dean handed you your gun and knife which you quickly put away.

Dean stood to the side of the door, ushering you and Sam out before flipping the light switch and pushing the door shut behind him. 

 Dean lead you all back to the Impala, his eyes scanned the area like clockwork as you all made a beeline for the car. You climbed into the front seat, the safety of the Impala enveloping you as you finally relaxed and your shoulders dropped. Dean quickly looked around as Sam climbed in the back. Dean started up the engine, it’s gentle rumble surely waking at least one person in the nearby houses. 

In less than fifteen minutes Dean had you all back at the motel. 

“We’re not going back to the bunker?” Sam asked. 

Dean shook his head and glanced at Sam in the rearview mirror. “We need Cass to check the warding. It’s not safe.” 

Sam looked at you and then back at Dean. “The… the bunker?” 

Sam shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He wanted to know more but the hesitation from you and Dean to say more made him scared to ask. He slowly opened his eyes and his gaze fell upon you and you could see in the rearview mirror the tears glistening in his eyes again. You had never seen him look so vulnerable: half-naked, no weapon, fighting back tears. You wanted to kill the shifter all over again. You bit at the inside of your lip, worried that it might start to dawn on him what had happened. It’s not that you didn’t want him to know. You just weren’t ready to deal with it. And as long as Sam didn’t know, you could almost pretend that it hadn’t happened. Almost.

Dean nodded curtly as he cut the engine and climbed out of the car. Sam’s eyes narrowed as he stared distantly ahead. 

“Stay here,” he said to Sam as you climbed out of the car, too. You raised an eyebrow to Dean. “I’ll be right back,” he added to Sam.

Dean, ever the over-protector, was now made even worse. He followed you to the door and once again, checked the entire place over. 

“Dean,” you sighed. 

“Not up for debate,” he said, repeating himself from earlier, his eyes still studying every inch of the room as he avoided your gaze.

“I’m not saying you can’t be protective but you’re not my security guard. There isn’t a monster in every closet,” you said. 

 His nostrils flared as he stood in the doorway, silent for a moment, before turning back to you. “What happened… tonight,” he inhaled deeply, “...will never happen again. I won’t let it,” he finished as he swallowed hard. “Not even for a single second will I let you go through something even remotely close to that ever again.” 

You stood there in the middle of the room, too shattered and exhausted to argue with him. This was exactly what you had been trying to avoid that night all that time ago when Cass manipulated Sam’s memory. 

“What are you gonna tell him?” you asked as you choked back your emotions. 

“Enough to catch him up,” Dean said as he turned away and headed back to the Impala.

He left the motel door open and climbed back into the Impala. Sam watched you from the backseat. You locked eyes for a brief second as Dean twisted to face Sam and rested his arm on the backseat. 

You stepped away from his line of sight, not prepared to handle what Sam’s reaction might be. As they talked, you kicked off your boots and jeans and slipped out of your flannel before climbing into the already unmade bed, leaving the fresh bed for Dean. You left half the bed for Sam, though you weren’t sure if he’d take it. Sure, he’d been emotional and comforted you, that still didn’t mean he’d forgiven you. 

You cozied up under the blankets and shut your eyes, desperate to fall asleep, though you weren’t sure what you’d find when you got there. More importantly, however, if you were asleep then you didn’t have to talk with Sam. You inhaled deeply as you nestled your face into the pillow. It smelled faintly like Sam and the longing for him slowly began building back up inside of you. You felt a single tear slip down, leaving a wet circle on the fabric. 

Dean’s booted stomps sounded as he crossed the threshold, followed by Sam’s silent, shoeless scuffles. You half wondered if he’d brought any other shoes with him but that was a problem for tomorrow. One of them flipped the lights off. Sam paused at the edge of the bed for a moment and you could hear him quietly breathing as he watched you. A beat passed before he continued to the bathroom and shut the door. Dean pulled the string on his bedside lamp, providing him with enough light so that he could walk about the room but not disturb you. Seconds later you heard the pipes squeak and water rushing as Sam turned on the shower. 

You carefully opened one eye just a sliver and watched as Dean grabbed the ice bucket from the dinette table and left, this time pulling the door quietly shut behind him. He returned moments later. You listened as the locks clicked and Dean slid the chain lock into place. He sat in the dinette chair and peeled open one of the empty plastic bucket liners. He scooped ice into it and tied a knot at the top, sealing it closed. The chair quietly scraped across the floor as he stood up and pushed it back. You could feel his presence looming over you, blocking out the light of his lamp on the other side of the room.

“I know you’re not asleep,” he whispered. 

You huffed and gently bit at your lip before opening your eyes. “What gave me away?” 

“Scooch,” he said. You turned carefully and painfully onto your back and pushed yourself back just enough for him to sit beside you on the bed.

As the adrenaline began to wear off, the pain of the near suffocation you'd endured back at the bunker was beginning to set in. Your chest ached deep down to the bottom of your lungs and you kept your breath short to avoid the sharp, stabbing pain that came when you inhaled too deeply.

Dean lifted the ice bag and slowly pressed the bag against the right side of your face, eliciting a hiss from you as it stung your tender skin. You reached up and placed your hand over Dean’s who pulled his away, letting you take over. You held it there as he watched you. 

“I’m gonna get the first aid kit,” he said as he stood back up.

“What for?” you asked. 

“Um, your face,” Dean said as he wrinkled his brows.

“Is it that bad?” you asked as he squatted down to pull it from one of the side pockets of his bag. 

“You haven’t looked?” he asked as he made his way back over to you and sat down. You shook your head slightly, the ice clinking along to each movement. He studied your expression before nodding. He kicked his boots off and leaned over. You let your hand fall as he pulled the ice bag back. 

“Can’t see,” he muttered as he reached over and pulled the string of your bedside lamp, illuminating your side of the room. He straightened up and zipped open the first aid kit to pull several items out. 

You glanced down and watched as Dean fussed over his tools. A little bottle of clear liquid caught your eye and inexplicably made your stomach drop.

“Not rubbing alcohol, Dean… please,” you said quietly, shocked at yourself as tears stung the corner of your eyes. You just couldn’t… hurt, anymore. Not tonight. You’d had enough.

“Don’t be a baby,” he said before catching your pained expression. “Sorry,” he whispered quickly. “It’s not alcohol,” he said, shaking the little bottle. “It’s like antiseptic or something.” He shrugged. 

You took a deep breath and looked away. Dean took that as his sign to continue. “Can you sit up a little?” he asked. 

You pushed yourself up and jutted your head forward. He held the washcloth beneath the cut. 

“Look up,” he said. You did as he asked. He squeezed the bottle’s liquid across your cheek, into your cut, cleansing it. The washcloth caught most of the runoff, but some did escape and run down your neck, slicking it. He pulled the washcloth away and refolded it to get to a dry edge and dabbed it gently along your check. You stared at a random spot on the wall as he worked. He returned the bottle to the pouch and pulled out an ointment tube which he squeezed onto a cotton swab and swiped it across your cut as gently as he could manage. 

“This is deep, y/n. I’m gonna have to stitch it in the morning,” he said as he pulled the wound tightly shut with two butterfly bandages. You grimaced at the thought.  

“Done,” he said with a gentle smile as he returned everything to the kit and zipped it up. 

The roar of the shower cut off and there was the familiar scrape of the shower hooks across the curtain rod as Sam exited the shower.

“Thanks,” you wheezed as you looked down and fiddled with your fingers. 

Dean cleared his throat. “Can I… do you need anything?” 

You shrugged as you locked eyes with him. “Water, I guess? And every breath hurts from when... And sleep, but… I’m also, I mean, I’m a little afraid… to sleep. Don’t know what I’ll…,” you trailed off. 

Dean glanced away and seemed to think for a moment. He left your side only to quickly return with the stainless steel water jug and a plastic cup from the motel. He filled it with water and handed it to you. As you sipped the water he returned to the first aid kit and pulled out a small plastic bag with two large white pills in it. Dean handed them to you and you let them roll over in your palm as you tried to guess what they were. 

“They’ll conk you out,” he explained. “And Sam and I will be right here the entire time. You don’t have to worry,” he assured you. 

“I never worry about that,” you said, giving him a lopsided smile. 

He frowned and took a deep breath. You wanted to tell him not to do that, that he had done everything he could and what happened wasn’t his fault, but you just didn’t have the energy. You swallowed the pills and finished the water. Dean refilled the cup and set it on the bedside table. You shifted onto your side, your injured cheek faced up, and got comfortable under the covers as Dean turned the lamp back off. He picked up the bag of ice and placed it gently back over your cheek. 

You were just beginning to drift off when you heard the bathroom door open followed by the quiet footsteps of Sam making his way to his bag to rummage for clean clothes. He returned moments later and climbed into bed beside you. It was quiet for a moment but you could feel his presence as he leaned over you, examining your face in the pale light.

“Did I miss anything?” he whispered to Dean.

“Just bandaged her up a little,” Dean whispered from his bed. “And gave her the good stuff to help her sleep.” 

“Maybe I should go to a pharmacy and get some real ice packs,” Sam thought aloud. 

“It’s four in the morning. There’s nothing open for over a hundred miles,” Dean reminded him. 

“I’m sure I could break into a doctor's office or something in this Podunk town,” Sam said. The bed creaked as he leaned back against his pillow. 

“Okay, simmer down, John Dillinger,” Dean teased. “It wouldn’t make enough of a difference to be worth it. Gonna have to stitch it up in the morning regardless. What about you? You good?"

"Yeah," Sam whispered. "Nothing deeper than surface level."

You wanted to move, to curve to Sam, or ask him to hold you, but the drugs Dean gave you were strong and were quickly taking over every muscle in your body, including your tongue and lips, and thankfully your aching lungs.

“Get some sleep, Sammy,” Dean whispered. Dean’s bed creaked and you slipped your eyes open a crack to see him turning onto his side, squeezing his pillow against his face. He hadn’t even bothered to change out of his jeans and flannel. You couldn’t see it but knowing Dean the hand under his pillow was resting over his Colt. He reached over and turned off the bedside lamp. 

Sam leaned over in the darkness and pressed his lips gently to your temple. You sighed as you fought tooth and nail against the drugs for more seconds with Sam, scared that in the morning, or when you were better, Sam would be gone again. Your body was so heavy you felt like you were going to sink into the mattress.

He pushed toward you, pressing his body carefully against yours and found your hand. He grasped it in his and with everything you had left, before giving into the heaviness and slipping under, you squeezed it, desperate to let him know you were there and aware and so grateful for every moment with him. He laced his fingers with yours and pulled your hand along with his to your heart, wrapping you in him like you were a gift and he was the bow. 

The message had been received. 

EDIT: Chapter 12

#supernatural fan fiction #reader insert #sam winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #spn fanfic #sam x you #sam winchester/reader #sam/you #sam x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester/you #sam winchester #sam angst #angst #supernatural fandom #supernatural family #supernatural imagine #spnfamily #scribeofwinchesters

[samsexualdeancurious]

Christmas Dress

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Prompt: Kitchen sex

Written for a Demon Patron request

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“Babe?”

“In the kitchen!” you call over your shoulder, not taking your eyes off the shredded cheese you’re sprinkling over the lasagna you’ve spent the last hour putting together.

You hear Sam’s footsteps in the hall, on the steps, and then he’s pressing against your back with a groan. One hand lands right on your ass.

“Y/N,” he says in a low voice and you smirk, grinding back against him. The fuzzy hem of your dress tickles your bare thighs.

“Like it?” you ask.

In answer, his other hand slides around to your pelvis and presses your ass against his hips. “What do you think?” he growls low in your ear.

That’s all the warning you get before he’s dragging you away from the lasagna, spinning you around, lifting you up to sit on the counter, and pressing in between your thighs. The speed of the movements steals your breath and his hands gliding your carefully-selected panties down your legs without a glance definitely don’t help. He shoves the dress up your hips and you lean back on your hands. He looks down then, at your spread legs and the red fabric clinging to your curves.

“Merry Christmas,” you purr as he frees his cock.

He slides into you with one smooth thrust that drives all further thought from your mind and pulls you in for a kiss. “Merry Christmas, indeed,” he murmurs against your lips.

The lasagna does get put in the oven eventually but dinner is definitely late.

#my writing #supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #sam x reader #sam winchester/reader #sam winchester x reader