AN: Hey guys! So this is my entry for @balthazars-muse‘s 30 First Dates with Sam Winchester month. It’s super late and I’m very sorry for that but she was gracious enough to let me submit it anyway. I hope you enjoy your date with Stanford!Sam at the Renaissance festival!
Tagging: @devsfan55 @thinkwritexpress @icecream-and-gadreel @itsallintheeyeofthebeholder @blushingsamgirl @fingersinsamshair @oriona75 @ohfora67impala (if I forgot any fellow Sam!girls, I apologize)
Word Count: 1408
Warnings: none, unless you have a thing against ren faires
Sam watches you out of the corner of his eye, mesmerized by the way your hand moves to tuck a stray hair behind your ear as you study. When he’d first signed up for the basic history class, he’d thought it would be another boring core curriculum requirement. But then the professor had split the class up for group projects, and Sam had been paired with you. When the two of you met up for the first project, he was drawn to you before a half hour had passed.
He fidgets nervously, glancing to the clock again as it counts down the time he has with you. Just ask her, he berates himself. It’s not that hard. His thoughts are interrupted when you touch his arm softly. “Hmm?” he mumbles, looking at you.
“Got a hot date?” you ask with a smirk.
“What? No!”
He says it too quickly and your face falls a little before saying, “Well that’s interesting, ‘cause you keep checking the clock as if it was counting down your death.”
Sam chuckles softly to diffuse the tension, smiling at you. “No, I just… had something I want to ask you. After we’re done studying, of course.”
Your heartbeat flutters a little and you quickly look back down at the books strewn across the table, reaching out to close a few of them. “Well I think we’re done for today, we’ve got it all planned out and next meet-up we can start--”
He stops your rambling with a gentle hand on top of yours. “Y/N, it’s okay,” he says, a laugh clearly present in his voice. “I just…” He takes a deep breath. Calm, Sam. It’s just a date… with a really cute girl. “So I know you’re really into the Renaissance period and there’s this Renaissance festival this weekend and I was wondering--”
This time it’s you who stops him rambling, a wide smile on your face. “You’re asking me on a date to the Ren faire?”
“If you want it to be a date. I mean, we could just go as friends and call it research or whatever but if you want--”
You stop him with a soft kiss on his lips, pulling away with a small smile. “It’s a date, Sam.” You finish collecting the books together and take an armful to return, knowing he’ll take the rest. “I know it opens at nine in the morning, so pick me up at 8:30?”
He smiles widely, nodding. “Sounds great. I’ll see you then.” You grin back at him, the smile only growing as you walk away, already imagining your first date with Sam Winchester.
~~~
You spend nearly two hours the morning of the festival getting ready for it. Most of that time is spent vacillating between wearing normal, modern clothes and pulling out your handmade Renaissance period clothing. In the end, you go with the period clothing, thinking you should go all out for something like this. If Sam doesn’t take to the clothing, then his loss. You slip on a long, dark brown skirt that cinches at the waist, and pull a long-sleeved white tunic shirt over your head, tucking it into your skirt. To complete the outfit, you slipped on some boots and a dark red embroidered bodice, and braided your hair back.
Turns out you needn’t have worried. When you open the door to greet Sam, he’s standing there in full Renaissance gear as well. Simple brown pants tucked into brown boots, with a burgundy shirt and dark, wide-shouldered leather vest; even his hair is tied back from his face. You smile widely at him, putting a hand on your hip and raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been holding out on me, Sam Winchester. Where’d you get this get-up?”
He chuckles sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck. “I, uh, went to the store yesterday after you said yes and bought it.”
Your eyes go wide before you break down in laughter. “Oh Sam. You didn’t have to do that, you know.”
“But I knew you would most likely have an outfit ready.” You raised an eyebrow and he smiles. “You seem like the kind of person who would.”
You chuckle and shake your head, grabbing your leather satchel as you head out of the house. “So how are we getting to the festival? Have you brought horses?” you joke as you shut and lock the door behind you.
“Uh, well, I do have a silver steed and it’s got the power of sixty horses.” You laugh again as he leads you down your driveway to the small silver car sitting at your curb. He opens the door for you and you smile at him as you get in, tucking your skirt in to keep it from getting caught in the door.
~~~
Sam hefts the double-handed sword, testing its weight as you watch him, smiling. “This is nice,” he says, swinging it carefully.
“Thank you,” the lady in the booth says. “I crafted it myself.”
“Really? That’s amazing!” He admires it for a bit longer before handing it back to her, smiling. “Thank you for letting me try it.” She nods and he smiles down at you. “What next?”
“I was thinking food,” you say as you lace your fingers with his. “My stomach is starting to rumble.”
His face flushes slightly at the touch of your hand. “The tavern it is, then.” As he leads the way, you watch his arm muscles move under the sleeve of his shirt. A light blush crosses your face and you look down quickly.
The dark of the tavern encompasses you, the air slightly musty and sweaty, and thick with the smell of alcohol. Sam leads you to an empty table, his tall form enabling him to see over the heads of the swarming crowd to find two empty seats together. “Save these seats,” he says, having to shout over the din of the tavern. “What do you want?”
“Ribs and a beer, please!” He nods and weaves off through the crowd to the counter, graceful despite his large frame. You get caught up in the live music being played at the far end of the bar, and the next thing you know he’s sitting down next to you, setting down a full plate of food and a mug of beer in front of you. “Thanks!” you say, smiling widely at him.
He nods and sets down his own plate and mug, and your eyes go wide at the huge leg of turkey in front of him. “I couldn’t resist,” he says, leaning close to your ear so you can hear him over the noise. “Barbeque turkey? Sounds delicious.” You chuckle and begin eating, trying your best not to make a mess with the ribs.
Sam watches you out of the corner of his eye, smiling softly as you make little noises of enjoyment. He looks back down at the turkey leg, laughing softly at himself for taking the challenge of eating the whole enormous thing. Sinking his teeth into it and pulling away to tear off a bite, he turns to you when he hears you giggle. “What?” he asks after swallowing the piece of turkey.
“You’ve got a little something…” you say, motioning to his face.
“Where?”
“Just… there.”
He chuckles. “You just motioned to my whole face.” A thought flits through his head, and he leans forward slightly, poking out his lips. “Clean it up for me?”
Your eyes widen slightly, but you feel bold enough after the beer to lean forward and lick a bit of the barbeque sauce from his cheek, tongue trailing to the corner of his mouth. “Is that it?” he asks softly, watching you closely.
“No, still got a little right… here…” You lean forward again and take him into a kiss, licking along his lips. He smiles into the kiss and deepens it, before pulling away to rest his forehead against yours.
“Wow,” he says softly. “That was a lot of barbeque sauce I got on my face.”
You giggle softly and nod. “Yep, but I think I got it all.”
“I think there’s still some there. One more time just to check?” You smile and he pulls you back into a kiss, one arm wrapping around your waist. Unnoticed by the two of you, the whole tavern cheers and claps at the show of love found at a Ren faire.
Summary: A little whisky, some wildly inappropriate humor plus a pushy big brother equals Winchester game night for Sam and Cara’s date. (AU where Sam and Dean are EMTs and Cara Roberts is the local ER doctor)
Pairing: Sam x Cara
Word Count: 1,291
Warnings: explicit language, drinking alcohol and playing a no-good game for horrible people
Tagging @balthazars-muse and @anotherwinchesterfangirl for the Game Night prompt of 30 First Dates with Sam Winchester. (OK, it’s their second date so sue me. Despite the warnings, this is really fluffy.) Fic on AO3.
“Dude, the answer to everything is not dildos and demonic possession,” Sam said, rolling his eyes as his brother gleefully collected the black and white cards from the center of the table.
Cara let out a snort behind her whisky glass. Losers had to take shots of Dean’s Fireball Whisky after each hand of Cards Against Humanity. Game night started civilly enough with a round of Trivial Pursuit but according to Dean, that took too long and didn’t provide enough opportunity to get Sam shit-faced and embarrassed in front of his date.
Cara Roberts knew both of the Winchesters from the ER where she was the supervising physician and they were the most popular pair of EMTs that Portland General had ever seen.
Everyone knew the story of the two brothers, who lost their mom when they were young and their firefighter dad when he died on the job a few years ago. With that kind of tragic backstory and those good looks, everyone on the hospital staff either wanted to mother them or sleep with them.
Looking across the table at Sam Winchester, Cara had no desire to mother him. She wanted to climb that boy like a tree.
They met during Cara’s first week on the job and her second week in Portland when the brothers brought two little boys into the ER with smoke inhalation. She immediately butted heads with Dean, who was busy issuing orders and charming her staff, before she noticed his bigger little brother standing quietly a step behind. Sam gave her a nod and a half smile before turning to follow Dean when they left.
The next day she saw Sam again, standing outside the ICU corridor, obviously no longer on duty since he was dressed in a simple grey t-shirt and jeans, instead of the blue uniforms the EMTs wore. She couldn’t help but watch as this huge man tried to melt into the background, politely staying out of everyone’s way while checking on the status of the two kids brought in the night before.
She offered to give him an update on the kids’ condition over coffee in the cafeteria, and they sat and talked for hours about the stress of their jobs, the best donut shops in town and whether anyone should read Chekhov for fun. The memory of Sam’s big hands nervously playing with that tiny paper coffee cup made her smile.
“What’s got you smiling?” Sam interrupted her thoughts, his cheeks flushed with alcohol, lips still shiny from that last shot of whisky.
She licked the cinnamon flavor off her own lips and stood up. “Just thinking maybe we could use some food with all this booze. Help me out, Sam?” She wiggled her eyebrows at him as she moved into the kitchen.
“Don’t think that you’re getting out of this game that easily,” Dean protested over his shoulder at them but was easily distracted by Amy, one of the emergency dispatchers, who was whispering something in his ear that made Dean grin like the Cheshire cat.
Moving to a new town provided a good distraction after Cara’s failed first marriage last year. After all that mess, she put up a wall between herself and any chance of another relationship. And not just any wall but the Great Wall of Cara. Sure, she dated guys but never took them up on the offer of a second date.
When Sam invited her to join them for family game night, her first thought was hell no. Of course, once he turned those soft hazel eyes on her, she was unable to refuse him. Now, two hours into an evening of horribly embarrassing and wildly inappropriate jokes, Cara couldn’t imagine saying no to Sam Winchester about anything.
As she reached for another bag of Doritos sitting on the counter, a much larger hand grabbed hers from behind and Sam’s tall body pressed up against her back. Resting his chin on her shoulder and spreading his hands across her hips, she felt heat rise up, flushing her face. She was a tall woman in her own right and had dated her share of big guys, but this blanket of warmth that enveloped her was something else entirely. She let her head drop back and rest against his chest, feeling safe and protected like a child’s doll nestled in the cage of his arms.
Feeling safe with someone like this and letting them inside was how you opened yourself up for a world of hurt, she reminded herself. There was no way she was going to let Sam crack the Great Wall of Cara.
She spun within the circle of his arms to face him - well, to face his broad chest anyways - and placed her hands on his biceps, taking the opportunity to rub up and down the muscle under his shirt sleeves.
Sam glanced over his shoulder at where his brother and Amy sat at the table, wrapped up in each other for the moment, before he hugged Cara to his chest and walked her backwards into the darkness of the kitchen pantry. As they bumped against the pantry wall, both of them laughed before kissing more deeply, exploring each other in that tiny dark space. The smell of cheap cinnamon whisky on their lips mixed with the scent of flour and sugar and vanilla in the pantry, filling her head with thoughts of home and love and her mother’s Sunday morning cinnamon rolls.
Sam released her and cupped her face between his large hands. “I can’t believe you came with me tonight.”
“And I can’t believe you made me play that game with your brother. I must really like you, despite your family,” Cara deflected and tried to turn away.
“Do you? Really like me?” Sam said, turning her head gently back to face him. The uncertainty in his voice tore at her heart because how could anyone not love this man? No, no, wait. Not love. Attraction and like. She really liked Sam a lot. Definitely not love. Get a grip, Cara told herself, this is only your second date with the guy.
She grabbed the back of Sam’s neck and pulled him down to her level, capturing his lips, feeling loose and warm, their soft tongues licking away the remaining taste of Fireball so that now all she could taste was Sam underneath it all. She felt ready to float away with only her hand on his neck as anchor.
Sam made a noise of need in the back of his throat that seemed so loud in that tight dark space. As he pulled her closer towards him, his broad back whacked the pantry shelf behind them and she heard something big and soft smack the ground.
“Oh shit,” Sam giggled and hit the light switch. A 10-pound bag of flour from the pantry shelf laid open on the floor and white dust swirled between them like some frantic domestic fairy dust. Sam’s pant leg had taken the worst hit but a geyser of it had sprayed up the right side of his face, settling onto his long eyelashes and the curls of his brown hair. He shook his head like a giant golden retriever, sending white dust to coat the front of Cara’s shirt.
“Hey, what the hell did you two do to my pantry? I just cleaned in there today.” Dean stood in the doorway, disgruntled and annoyed.
Sam glowered back at his brother with an annoyed look of his own and shut the pantry door on his face.
As they started to kiss again, Cara thought, well, it’s too late now. This may only be her second date with Sam but that wall was already coming down.
Prompt: Concert for 30 First Dates With Sam Winchester
Words: 1225
Warnings: Fluff, mentions of Smut and Angst... Everything I touch becomes angst.
A/N: Here’s my entry for 30 First Dates! Hope y’all enjoy it. Oh, and this wasn’t supposed to have angst, I promise!
Feedback is always welcome! Enjoy! xx
“You know,” Sam asked, making you look up from his chest. “We never went out… like, on a date.”
You smiled, pecking his lips in a sweet kiss. “What, you don’t like doing this?”
“No! No, it’s not that,” he said grabbing your hips and making you straddle him. “It’s just that I thought we should go out on a real date sometime.”
“For real?” You saw his eyes shine in the dark room, making your heart flutter.
“For real.”
You laughed as you kissed him again, your tongues fighting for domination as you rolled your hips against his.
“Round two already?” He joked between your lips.
“Fuck yes.”
'I'll get there in 5, be ready x'
You smiled as you answered and put your phone down. It had been two days since you agreed to go out on a real date and you were excited to see where he was taking you. You were wearing a pair of jeans and boots that matched with the white shirt you had on. He told you not to dress very formally, to wear something comfortable. You’d known Sam for a very long time, even though you shared your feelings for each other only a month ago, so he knew you like the back of his hand and so did you.
A knock took you out of your daydream, making your eyes fly to the front door. It was him, you could feel it. You rushed to grab your keys and bag before opening the door. Sam was standing there, wearing a red plaid shirt and a pair of jeans, stunning as always.
“Hey,” you said, staring into his beautiful hazel eyes.
“Hey,” he replied, never taking his eyes off of you. “You… you look gorgeous.”
You smiled as the blush painted your cheeks, looking down at your feet. Sam took your hand, making you look up at him. "Ready to go?”
You nodded as you turned to close and lock the door behind you, not letting his hand go. “Yeah, let’s go.”
You started walking to his car, holding hands and throwing glances at each other until you reached the vehicle. Sam opened the door for you, making you smile and slip into the car; Sam closing the door and moving to the other side to start driving. When he was in on the driver side, he looked at you, blush growing on your cheeks as you looked back at him. He smiled, your heart fluttering as his hand moved to your leg and stayed there while he started the car.
After a few minutes of driving in silence, you asked, “Hey, Sammy?”
His hazel eyes shone in the dark when he turned to look at you. “Yeah, Y/N?”
“Where are we going, exactly?”
His smile lit the whole night, showing off his beautiful dimples. “Well, I think you’ll figure it out soon.”
You rolled your eyes, making him laugh; his grip on your leg tightening.
Sam parked a few minutes later in a dark street. You raised a brow at him as he chuckled.
“Don’t worry, it’s not here. We’ll have to walk a few blocks only.”
You sighed in relief, opening the door like Sam did to get out of the car. He opened the trunk and grabbed a blanket, looking up at you and smiling as he locked it back. He moved to your side of the sidewalk, throwing an arm around your shoulders. It was a cold night, so having him like this around you comforted your senses.
You walked silently a few blocks until a park was visible. You looked up at him when you noticed that was where you were going, both of you grinning as he placed a kiss on your temple. “Ready for this?” He asked and you nodded, walking straight into the park.
You’d been walking through the park for a few minutes when you found yourselves on a hill, overlooking a big stage full of lights and musical instruments. You let go of his grip to look better, moving forward and noticing there was an actual audience around the stage.
You turned around and found Sam placing the blanket he was carrying on the grassy floor. He sat on in, patting the spot next to him for you to sit down. You rolled your eyes smiling and jumped into his arms, pushing him against the floor. He smashed your lips with yours, tongues meeting in your mouth.
Despite that, the kiss was soft. You didn’t know how on earth you could’ve been so lucky to find someone like Sam who liked you back. As the kiss continued, his hands started roaming your body, touching the skin on your hips. Before you could get too far, the music started playing and the crowd started cheering. You pulled away from him, looking into those hazel eyes that made you crazy. Sam laughed as he sat and so did you; trying to pay attention to the show in front of you, your hands never leaving each other’s.
When the concert was almost over, the singer stopped the show. “Uh, sorry about this, but there’s someone in the audience who told us he brought a girl with him here tonight.”
The crowd cheered and booed, making the singer shush them. You were resting your head in Sam’s lap as he stroked your hair softly. “How cliché is that? Oh my god!” You laughed at the situation. Sam’s touch faded, making your chuckle stop. “Hey! Why did you-”
“This message goes to Y/N, from Sam:”
You sat all of the sudden, looking at Sam and how his smile faded as his gaze fell.
“Y/N, Sam wants to know if you want to be his girlfriend! We hope the best for you guys, this song goes for you.” The singer finished as the band started to play a song you didn’t care about. You fucked up.
When you looked back at him, he was already walking towards the park’s exit. “Sam!!” You shouted as you stood up, chasing him down the path of little rocks that decorated the area. You grabbed his shoulder once you reached him and turned him to look at you. He was waiting for you to say something, and you had to be quick.
“What?” He asked dryly.
“Listen,” you panted from the previous run. “I didn’t know it was you who asked that, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, but you thought it was silly...”
“I think it was cute and I didn’t mean that!!”
“Whatever,” he sighed as he turned around. The rage in you was growing and everyone could notice by your, probably, now red face. You wanted to shout at him, tell him you were sorry…
“I love you, you idiot!!”
Sam stopped in his tracks, turning around slowly. You felt your eyes tear up a bit as you covered your face with your hands, sobbing on them. Sam reached for you, grabbing your wrists and lacing his fingers with yours and crashing his lips with yours. The kiss made all of your problems disappear. You melted with his touch, like if it was the first time. After a few seconds, he pulled away, your lungs scratching for air.
“I love you, too,” he said, making a smile appear on your face.
Summary: Your first date with Sam has it’s ups and downs, but you both have a great time anyway
Words: 1,400
Sam x Reader
Warnings: none
A/N: This is part of @balthazars-muse‘s 30 First Dates with Sam Winchester project! I got 17. Ice Skating...
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“What are you going to wear?” Charlie asked, sitting on the bottom bunk.
You shrugged at your twin, opening your shared wardrobe, “It’s ice skating. Something warm, I guess.”
She raised an eyebrow at you, “You’re going on a date with Sam Winchester, and you’re going to dress warm?”
“Char, I’m going ice skating. I’m not going to wear a low cut top and jean shorts,” you sighed, “I refuse to get pneumonia just to try and impress him with my, frankly, mediocre body.”
Your sister stood up and turned you around to face the mirror.
“You only think it’s mediocre because you dress like it is,” she told you, pinching your tee at the back, bunching the spare material to show off your figure, “See, look. You’re smokin’.”
“Shut up,” you laughed, pushing her away, “I’m still going to wear a sweater and jeans.”
Charlie sighed, “Fine. At least wear skinny jeans.”
You got into the passenger seat of the impala wearing an oversized sweater and leggings, your hair in a messy bun and little to no make-up on. If Sam could appreciate you like this, then maybe you’d try more for your second date. Charlie really wasn’t impressed with your little experiment.
“Your clothes are… cute,” Dean grinned from the driver’s seat, “Interesting look.”
You grinned back at him, “I’m doing an experiment.”
He nodded knowingly, “Can’t handle this, doesn’t deserve the best?”
“Damn straight,” you laughed, “You think it’ll work?”
“Kiddo, Sam thinks that’s you’re beautiful anyway,” he told you, “You could have come out wearing the contents of a trash can, and he’d have thought you rocked the look.”
You raised an eyebrow, and Dean smiled.
“Don’t tell him I told you that.”
“Secret’s safe with me,” you chuckled, “Where is he, anyway?”
Dean started up the engine and began to drive, “He’s already there. He took one of your dad’s cars. Wanted to get your boots and stuff ready so you can get straight onto the ice. I think he’s trying to be romantic.”
You smiled, “That’s cute. He doesn’t really have to try to impress me, though.”
“Why’s that?” Dean teased, “You already got the hots for the jolly green giant?”
“Well, yeah,” you rolled your eyes, “I’ve had a crush on him for the last six years.”
“Seriously? That long?”
“Yeah,” you sighed, pulling at the sleeve of your sweater, “But I always thought he just saw me as a kid. That’s why I kinda freaked out when he asked me out.”
“He’d liked you since you and Charlie moved in with Bobby,” Dean told you, “But you’re not allowed to tell him I told you that either.”
You felt yourself begin to blush.
You and your sister had moved into Bobby’s when you were twelve and he found the two of you hunting on your own. He’d taken you in as his own, got you both into a school, and you grew up with Sam and Dean as your best friends, despite the eight year age gap between you and the older Winchester.
“We’re here,” Dean told you, bringing the car to a stop outside the rink, “Go have a date with my brother.”
You grinned, leaning over and kissing his cheek, “Thanks for the ride, old man.”
“I’m barely thirty!” he protested as you left the car, “I’m not old!”
“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed, shutting the door and making your way inside.
“I thought you said you could skate,” you laughed, skating backwards and watching Sam flail, trying to catch up.
You’d already been on the ice for half an hour, and Sam had failed to move any more gracefully than a new-born giraffe.
“I haven’t been since I was like twelve,” he told you, stumbling a little and hanging onto the side to stop from falling, “I didn’t have all of this height back then.”
You laughed, skating towards him and taking his hands.
“Do you trust me?” you asked, and he nodded, “Okay, follow my lead.”
You began to skate backwards, pulling him along with you.
“This is so emasculating,” he grumbled, “I feel like such a child.”
You grinned, “Maybe you shouldn’t have chosen this as a first date activity.”
“I know you love it, so,” he shrugged, “I figured I’d give it a go.”
“Well, you’re doing it now,” you laughed, letting go of his hands, and turning around, to see where you were going.
“That’s not a good idea!” Sam called, and you heard a trip and span around, just in time for him to fall into you and send the two of you crashing to the ice.
“Shit,” he mumbled, pushing his weight off of you, “Sorry. I’m terrible at this.”
“Don’t worry,” you laughed, pushing his bangs off of his face, “It’s okay.”
“I’m such a klutz.”
“You’re adorable,” you told him, leaning up to kiss him chastely, before sliding from underneath him and getting to your feet.
You watched as he scrambled to get to his feet, laughing slightly.
“What?” he asked, a pale blush on his cheeks, “A pretty girl kisses me, I’m gonna have trouble getting to my feet afterwards.”
“You’re a pretty girl,” you shot back, winking, “Come on. I think that’s enough skating for today.”
You took his hand and skated to the side of the rink, stepping off and walking over to a bench to change your shoes.
“So…” Sam began, unlacing his boots, “If you’d let me, I’d like to make you dinner. Bobby’s given me full control of the kitchen tonight.”
“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
Sam shrugged, “Your dad loves me, what can I say.”
“Shut up,” you laughed, “Okay, fine. You may cook for me.”
The meal was delicious, the wine and conversation flowing easily, and by the time the two of you had finished washing up, you were both feeling a little more confident.
“I’ve had a crush on you since forever,” Sam told you, his hands resting on your hips, “I can’t believe you let me take you out.”
You grinned, surging with alcohol-induced confidence, “I’d let you do a lot more than that.”
He raised an eyebrow, leaning down, “Oh yeah?”
You nodded, closing the distance and kissing him firmly.
You felt him smile against your lips, and you ran your hands into his hair.
His tongue traced at your lower lip, and you opened up willingly, getting a thrill when his tongue touched your own.
The kiss was slow and sensuous, leaving you breathless.
“Wanna take this upstairs?” you asked, pulling at his shirt, “The spare room is empty.”
He grinned, kissing you again, “Lead the way.”
You giggled like a school girl, shushing his laughs on your way up the stairs so as not to disturb your sister.
“You’re gorgeous,” Sam told you, pushing you against the wall in the hallway, his hands coming under your sweater and stroking up your hips.
You kissed him, beginning to unbutton his shirt before your bedroom door flung open.
“No,” Charlie said, firmly, breaking the two of you apart, “No nookie on the first date.”
“Char,” you grumbled, glaring at her, “Why are you being a bitch?”
“Because if you were both sober, you wouldn’t be falling into bed together in the room in between your twin and your step-father.”
Sam ran a hand through his hair, taming the mess you’d made, “I guess you’re right.”
“I’m always right,” Charlie laughed, “I’m the brains, she’s the body.”
“Shut up,” you grumbled, “You’re such a cockblock.”
“You’ll thank me in the morning,” she chuckled, “Now, Sam, you can take the spare room. Alone. Y/N will be sleeping in our room. You two say goodnight and get to bed. Separately.”
She shut the door, and you rolled your eyes at Sam.
“Sorry about her.”
“No problem,” he chuckled, kissing you lightly, “We’ll have to get a motel next time.”
“They’ll be a next time?” you asked, hopefully.
“I freaking hope so,” he grinned, “I’ll see you in the morning.”
You nodded, kissing him once more, “In the morning.”
You turned and opened the door to your room, Charlie was sat on her bunk, arms folded.
“I take it was a good date?”
You grinned, flopping down next to her, “The best.”
“Good,” she grinned, lying down and staring at the bottom of the top bunk with you, “Maybe get a motel next time.”
