Things That Make Forts In The Night (Sam x Reader)
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader
Requested: Yes. (M: “Dude. It’s 3 in the morning.”)
Summary: Y/n hears crashing noises in the night.
Warnings: Mild Language.
Rating: Fluff.
Word Count: 568 (it’s short, I know.)
A/n: I am extremely sorry, this…I don’t know what it is. I just- uhffhf. It’s probably low-key cringey? I probably could’ve done a lot better with it but this is where my brain took the prompt? Ppdpffpt.
Title: Things That Make Forts In The Night
Y/n is awoken by the sound of several large crashes, and a loud, angry: “Whopsidaises!” She grumbles to herself as she slides out of bed and shuffles to her door. “Ah, ah shit!” Y/n swings her door open, mumbling some more as she walks slowly out into the library of the bunker, rubbing her eyes sleepily.
“Who the hell is making all this no-” She drops her hand from her face and squints slightly, looking forward to see Sam in a moose-in-the-headlights position, his eyes open wide.
“Oh, thank God, it’s just you.” He murmurs, going back to work on the pillow fort he was creating.
“S-sam, what the hell are you doing?” She mutters, watching as he finishes off the whiskey bottle beside him.
“I’m making a fort.” He declares, whipping around to face her- and almost knocking down his fort in the process. She nods slowly and moves forward, opening her mouth to speak. Sam holds his hand out. “Ah-ah-ah, a fort. Y/n/n, a fort.” She chuckles and shakes her head slightly.
“I can see that,” she raises her eyebrows. “And why would you be making a fort?” Sam grins at her, moving forward quickly to grab her arm.
“Come look, come on, it’s so peaceful, y/n/n, so damn peaceful.” He begins to pull her towards the opening, and she shakes her head.
“Sam…why are you making a fort?” Sam rolls his eyes slightly.
“I’ve been researching for the past hour and got bored.”
“So, you had some whiskey and built a fort?” Y/n confirms, cocking one of her eyebrows at him. He nods, smiling brightly and tugging on her arm again.
“Come on, y/n/n. It’s nice, has a lot of room, check it out? Please?” Y/n grins and rolls her eyes, allowing Sam to pull her into the fort.
“You should be sleeping…not, researching or building forts.” Sam pouts slightly, looking over at her.
“You don’t like it?” He slurs, leaning on her shoulder. “I thought you’d like it…it’s cozy, and warm…” She laughs, and pats his head.
“It’s great, Sam. I’m just worried about you, that’s all. Take care of yourself a little more…please?” Sam frowns slightly, meeting y/n’s gaze.
“You…care about me?” He whispers.
“W-well, yeah. I do. A lot, actually and I would appreciate it if-” Sam leaps to his feet, successfully collapsing the fort and crawls out of the debris, running quickly and crashing into multiple items as the fort crumbles around y/n.
“Dean! Dean!” Y/n can hear the muffled pounding of footsteps, and the click of a gun.
“What? What the hell’s the matter, Sam?”
“Y/n! She…she cares about me Dean. Y/n cares. About. Me. She cares- for me.” Dean instantly recognizes the slur to Sam’s voice and grunts.
“Where is she right now?” Sam’s gaze slowly drags the the massive pile of pillows and sheets, and he winces. “Oopsidaises.” He mumbles, a light laugh falling past his lips as Dean moves forward and drags her out from underneath the fort.
“Dude. It’s 3 in the morning,” he grumbles, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “Keep your boyfriend under control, mkay?” As Dean saunters away, Y/n shouts at him:
“Boyfriend?”
Sam smiles, and turns to y/n, lifting her into a tight hug. “Only if you’ll be my girlfriend.”
“What?” Y/n asks.
“What?” Sam echoes and crashes onto the couch, taking y/n down with him. “Oopsiedaises,” he murmurs just before passing out.
________________
Tags: Feel Free to ask to be added or removed at any time.
SPN: @thatshellfiredean , @elma-shay (also happens to be the one who requested this one)
Liked it? Leave feedback! It helps me see what y’all like, what you want more of, and helps me improve my writing.
You were up, sitting on your bed alternating from studying the notes you'd taken and painting your nails. There was classical music drifting around the room from you speaker.
You had needed something like this. Just time to relax, to breathe.
Stanford was stressful.
You leaned back against the headboard, inspecting you handiwork. You didn't do half bad for using your left hand.
A loud knocking startled you.
"who the hell is up at this hour?" you thought, quickly getting out of bed at the frantic loud knocking
You pulled open the door, doing your best to keep your nails intact. "I'm here! Geez you're going to wake up the whole damn complex with that knocking"
"Y/N" it was a rush a breath.
You smiled "Yeah it's me. What's up Sam?"
Sam looked haggard. Like he hadn't slept in weeks.
"Sam?"
"I-I uhh..."
Sam trailed off looking awkward.
You laughed "Well if you want to come in you're welcome to" you moved aside and gestured him in. Sam nodded smalley and stepped inside.
You shuffled around him and started moving papers around "No- No you don't have to-" You waved him off "Nah it's fine I wasn't really studying anyway." you brandished your paint job.
"uh i think you..."
"hmm?" You turned around, successful in cleaning off the bed, mostly.
Sam gestured to your nails. "Ahh man" you looked closer, wrinkling your nose. "damn" you whispered
"s-sorry"
You shook your head, chuckling "No big deal. This isn't the first time I've messed up a nail, and it sure won't be the last."
Sam smiled, "Ok." he turned to go
"Whoa, wait. Â You never said what you needed."
You wiped the ruined nail polish off and frowned at the stain it left on your thumb.
"I-I"
you raised your eyebrows, "Sorry. I'm not ignoring you." Â You wiped the nail polish on your pajama pants
"What'cha need?"
"No-" Sam cleared his throat "Nothing."
"Nothing? what you just popped in at" you checked the clock "almost one in the morning just to say hi?"
"Yeah. Yeah, just wanted to check up on you."
You rolled your eyes "BS"
"what?"
"I call BS. No one knocks like you did just to 'check up' on somebody"
Sam's face fell. "That obvious?"
You smiled ruefully, patting the spot next to you. "I just know I've knocked like that before."
Sam looked worried "Is everything ok? Are yo-" You waved him off, reaching for the bottle of nail polish again.
"So why'd you think I was dead?"
Sam frowned "I - I didn't think you were dead."
You hummed raised your eyebrows, but not looking up from where you were struggling to open the bottle.
"Want some help?"
You huffed and handed Sam the bottle, which he opened with ease. "Make yourself useful and paint the ones that got messed up. There's like 3."
It was a clear subject change. You wouldn't push, but you didn't believe him either.
"I've never?"
You laughed, dispelling a little of the tension that had arisen. "It's easy you moose. Just wipe it on the edge and paint it on"
Sam shot you a bitch face. "helpful"
You laughed again. "you want me to demonstrate on you?"
By the end of the night Sam's toes were a nice shade of blue, (he ran when you tried to do pink) your nails were perfect again and the both of you were concocted out in front of your laptop the words "are you still watching?" on the screen.
Tomorrow would be weird but you couldn't really find it in yourself to care right now.
A/N: Here is my contribution for Smut Appreciation Day: Vol. 2. I can’t believe it’s been a year since the first epic day. I want all of you to tag me in your filth while I’m at work today, and I promise I will read ALL of them when I get home tonight. Please let me know what you think. Happy reading (and masturbating)!
Word Count: 3,615
Warnings:
- smut. this is very graphic.
- if you don’t like reading about sexual situations, abort now.
- this is a threesome and can also be viewed as a polyamorous relationship between Sam, Dean, and reader.
- there is no wincest in this fic.
- language.
- always wear a condom, kids!
Tags: (at the end)
*gifs are not mine.
The three of you were covered in mud from head to toe. This particular hunt had gone a bit south, due to the unexpected rainstorm that had decided to fuck with your mission. Dean protested the entire way home about the state his interior was currently in, constantly pestering both you and Sam to keep your boots off the floor. Although you’d accomplished what you’d sought out to do, all of you were bickering back at forth at one another like children the entire ride home.
After what felt like forever, Dean pulled the Impala into the Bunker’s garage. You got out, slamming the door, which prompted Sam to sigh heavily, knowing what was coming, and Dean to grab your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.
“What the fuck is your problem?” he asked angrily, his brow furrowed into a deep v-shape on his forehead.
“You,” you spat back, wrenching your wrist from his grip. “You are my problem, you fucking asshole. You wouldn’t shut up the entire ride home about your precious car.”
“Hey, I told you both to take your boots off and put them in the trunk, but do you ever listen to me?” Dean hissed back, his eyes flashing.
“Guys, come on,” Sam interjected, leaning against the passenger side of the Impala. “We’ve had a long day, can’t we just go get cleaned up and forget about all of this? Sleep it off?”
“Hold on a minute, Sam,” Dean interrupted, putting his hand up to silence his brother. He shot him a fierce glare, before looking back at you. Sam rolled his eyes. You knew you’d fucked up, but you didn’t care. Your aching bones and fuzzy mind weren’t allowing you to think clearly. “What the fuck did you just call me?”
“Dean—” Sam tried once more.
“You’re an asshole,” you said again with gusto, hoping he’d get it through his thick, beautiful skull. “And so are you, Sam.”
“Me?!” Sam said with surprise, walking around the car to stand next to his brother now. “What the hell did I do?”
“All either of you do is bitch at me when I do something wrong. Neither of you ever praise me for when I do something right,” you whined, prying your wrist from Dean’s grasp before crossing your arms across your chest like a overtired kindergartner. You started to turn away, anger boiling inside you like a volcano ready to blow.
“I helped out alot today, but do I get a thank you? You looked to each brother and they both just stood there with scowls on their faces. “No? That’s what I thought. I’m going to bed.”
“Oh, no no no, sweetheart,” Dean said in a sing song voice, wrapping his fingers around your wrist again, pulling you back to face them. At this particular moment in time, they looked much taller than you remembered. “You think you could just talk to us like that and walk away?”
Sam arched his eyebrow at you, his arms also folded across his chest. Dean stared at you with his intense emerald eyes, waiting for your answer.
“Let go of me,” you said through gritted teeth, trying to pry your wrist away, but Dean wasn’t budging. He wasn’t hurting you either, he’d never dare, but you knew what was coming. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t prompt this.
“No,” Dean replied flatly, while Sam continued to stare at you. “What happens when you fuck up, Y/N?”
You were silent for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip, still struggling to break free of Dean’s grasp. When you didn’t answer, Dean looked to Sam to continue.
“Y/N,” Sam said fiercely. “What happens when you talk to us like that?”
“I get punished,” you finally said meekly, playing into their little game.
“Bingo,” Dean said, pulling you towards him until your body was pressed against his chest. You could already feel his denim-clad erection digging into your stomach. His lips were suddenly so close to your ear, his hot breath fanning across your neck. You felt your thighs immediately clench together. “When our good little girl is bad, she needs to be taught a lesson. Isn’t that right, Sammy?”
Sam nodded, a small smirk playing at his lips. You glanced over and could see his erection also bulging in his jeans. You knew what was about to happen and, while it didn’t happen all the time, you sure as hell welcomed it when it did.
“Shower,” Dean commanded, his voice gruff and hoarse from yelling earlier. “Now.”
With his hand still wrapped securely around your wrist, Dean led you to the large, stand up shower they had built in the bunker over a year ago, shortly after you moved in. It was where you spent your alone time together, where you took out your frustrations. Sam followed close behind, and you could feel his hazel eyes watching your backside sway back and forth as you walked down the hall.
When you reached the bathroom, the three of you filed in. You always felt so small when surrounded by the brothers, and it made your size kink rage out of control. Already so turned on, you could feel the wetness pooling in your panties.
This was a situation you never wanted to get out of. You had the best of both worlds here; both brothers. Sam, with his chin length chestnut brown hair, shaping his face so perfectly. Those gorgeous hazel eyes that literally sparkled in the right light; arms that you swore could stop a moving train. Especially those long, thick fingers, which became your utter demise when they were buried deep inside of you.
And Dean; he ran everything. He was the boss, and every part of your being was physically drawn to him like a drug. Everything about him was pure sex. Dark scruff dusting across his freckled cheeks, those jade eyes piercing your soul. But that mouth… oh, that mouth. It was the reason why you let him boss you around the way he did; why you let him do whatever he wanted to you. Because that mouth did unspeakable things. Your body shivered with anticipation now, and you hadn’t even undressed.
“Take off this filthy top,” Dean demanded, tugging at it with his fingers. You swallowed hard and looked at Sam, who nodded for you to continue. You unbuttoned it slowly, glancing up every couple of seconds to gauge their reaction. Dean was intensely staring at you, the muscles in his jaw working overtime. Sam’s eyes were also on you, biting his bottom lip harder with each button you undid. When you shrugged the flannel from your shoulders, Dean took it from you and handed it to Sam, who placed it over the arm of the metal chair in the corner of the room.
“Good girl,” Dean praised softly, and you felt your face get hot. A small smile spread across his lips at your reaction, knowing how much you loved hearing him say those two simple words. He looked back at his brother, leaving you wanting more. “Sammy, help her with her bra.”
Sam walked quickly around you and, with shaky fingers, he undid the clasp. Your breasts swung free, and Dean took your bra from Sam’s hands. Sam’s warm palms suddenly reached around and cupped your breasts, covering them completely. He kneaded them, making your head lull back to rest on his shoulder.
“You like that don’t you, Y/N?” Dean asked, palming his erection through his jeans. “You like when Sam touches you like this?”
“Y-Yes…” you stammered, as Sam’s long fingers began to tweak each nipple until they stood at attention.
“Does that feel good?” Sam breathed in your ear, sending goosebumps along your skin.
“Mmhmmm,” was all you could muster, as Dean softly drug his index finger past your navel, just barely touching you, before hooking it into the waistband of your pants.
“You want these off too, don’t you?” Dean asked, while Sam continued to roll your pebbled nipples between his fingers.
All you could do was nod your head, as Dean undid your belt and whipped it out of the loops. Sam’s hands roamed down your stomach now, unbuttoning your pants while Dean unzipped them.
Dean leaned down and worked your jeans and panties down your legs, stopping to untie your muddy boots and helping you to step out of them.
“Look at you,” Dean said, followed by a low whistle, as he drank your body in with his eyes.
“So fucking beautiful,” Sam breathed in your ear, and Dean nodded in agreement. “Do you have any idea how crazy you make us?” His fingers moved up to wrap around your neck, not squeezing, just resting there.
“Oh, I think she does,” Dean answered with a sly smirk, taking one finger and swiping it over your aching sex, before popping it into his mouth. “Already so wet for us…”
“On your knees,” Sam whispered to you, releasing his hand from your throat. You did as you were told, your knees meeting the sharp bite of the cold tile floor.
“Good girl,” Dean purred, walking forward to stand in front of you. “Now, unzip my jeans, sweetheart.”
You reached out and slowly lowered the zipper on Dean’s mud caked jeans. His cock was so hard beneath the denim, and your mouth began to salivate. You could hear Sam shifting back and forth behind you, waiting for his turn.
After his button was undone and his zipper down, you reached your shaking hands into his jeans and felt his cock through his boxer briefs. It was so soft in your hands, yet so hard and firm at the same time. You squeezed slightly, producing a soft hiss from Dean’s chest. He helped you to pull his jeans down his legs, your nails softly grazing down the sculpted muscles in his thighs. When his boots and jeans were off, you wanted so badly to taste him, but Dean had other ideas.
“Now, now,” he leaned down to whisper. “Don’t leave Sammy hangin’…”
Still on your knees, you turned around and Sam’s bulge was right in your face. You looked up at him and he was staring down at you, his face shadowed by the halo of his hair. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his nostrils flaring, as he anticipated you touching him.
You palmed his erection through his jeans, your brain boggled by the length and size of him. Sam and Dean were both very well endowed, but Sam was on another level. Just looking at it made your eyes bulge, your stomach flip in the best way possible.
“Go ahead,” Sam urged you, while Dean pumped his own cock with long, lazy strokes. “Take it out…”
Unzipping Sam’s jeans you watched him lick his lips. Instead of pulling his cock out, you opted to just take his jeans and boxers off, trying hurriedly to pull them down his tree trunk legs. They both chuckled as they watched your eagerness.
“Someone’s a little impatient,” Dean’s gruff voice sang from behind you, as you wrapped your hand around Sam’s thick cock.
“You have no idea…” you muttered, wanting desperately to put your mouth around the swollen head of Sam, but you didn’t dare. Not without permission.
“What do you want to do, Y/N?” Sam asked, moving your hair out of your face, his fingertips grazing your collarbone as he did.
“Tell us,” Dean coaxed, his hand still working over his shaft.
“I want to taste you,” you answered, looking right into Sam’s eyes, before looking back to stare into Dean’s. “Both of you.”
“Come here,” Dean commanded. “Sam, come closer.”
The brothers moved until you were kneeling between them, both of their hard, swollen cocks inches from your face.
“Go on, princess,” Dean said, taking his thumb and hooking it under your chin. “Show us what you want to do.”
With permission, you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the head of Dean’s cock. Swirling your tongue around the head you tasted the saltiness of his precum, your pussy positively throbbing between your legs.
“Mmmm,” Dean moaned, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. You took more of him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and tracing every vein with your tongue. “That’s it, baby…”
With your free hand, you reached behind you and wrapped it around Sam’s cock, stroking and squeezing the hard flesh. You continued to bob your head up and down on Dean’s cock as you did so. The moans and groans being produced from the brothers, by you, were enough to make a woman faint.
After a few minutes you switched, putting your swollen lips around the head of Sam’s cock. His hips arched into your mouth, while your thumb swiped over the cum beading from Dean.
“Fuck yeah…” Sam breathed, his chest rising and falling. His chest was red, and Dean’s eyes were closed. Just the sight of them made you want to cum.
Suddenly Dean’s eyes flipped open, and he grabbed your hand. His chest was also red, his eyes hooded with sheer lust.
“Stand up,” he commanded, breathing heavily, helping you up off the floor. “Do you want us to touch you?”
“Yes…” you replied, wiping the saliva off your lips.
“Make you cum for us?” Dean asked again.
“Yesss,” you all but begged, your fingernails grading down Dean’s stomach.
“Yes, what?” Sam asked behind you, his voice deep and dark.
“Yes, sir,” you corrected yourself, looking deep into Dean’s emerald orbs.
“Good girl…” Dean cooed. “Now bend over this chair.”
Doing as you were told, you grabbed onto the back of the metal chair or leverage. Sam and Dean both walked towards you, each of their hands reaching out to caress the small of your back, rubbing the globes of your ass.
With a stinging swing, Dean smacked your ass, your back arching immediately. You cried out, as Sam’s hand came down in succession on the opposite side.
You felt Dean spread your ass, his fingers tracing your soaking wet entrance. Sam came around to the front of you, taking his cock and tracing your lips with the head.
“Let me taste this pretty pussy,” Dean said, before swiping his tongue in the same line his fingers had just drawn. You moaned around Sam’s cock, your head bobbing faster and faster as Dean’s tongue explored more.
When his lips wrapped around your clit you moaned so loud it made Sam chuckle, knowing Dean had found your favorite spot. He sucked softly into his mouth, his soft lips working over your most sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Cum for me,” Dean said between licks. “Cum for me once and it’s Sam’s turn, sweetheart.”
He knew; he knew those fingers were your downfall. As Dean sucked a bit harder, you came just as hard, stroking Sam’s cock fast as you tipped over the edge.
With a soft kiss to your ass, the brother’s switched places. Except now Dean positioned you so you were sitting on the chair, Sam’s hands underneath you, keeping you in place. You reached up and took Dean’s cock in your hand, stroking it softly, so hard it was throbbing.
Sam dropped a line of spit from his mouth onto your clit, rubbing it with his thumb. You immediately felt yourself jump, still sensitive from your first earth shattering orgasm.
Slowly, he began to insert two huge fingers inside you. You could feel them fill you, feel them crook up to caress your sweetest spot just right. Your hand worked along Dean’s shaft as Sam pumped his fingers in and out of you at an agonizing pace. You were already so close to cumming, your legs shaking while Sam tried to hold them in place.
“Go ahead, baby,” Sam purred, leaning down to trace soft circles around your clit.
“Let go…” Dean said breathlessly and you did. You came so hard your head tipped back and you screamed both of your names, your hands entwining in Sam’s soft, thick hair, bringing his mouth as close to you as possible.
Dean chuckled as he leaned down and kissed the top of your head, Sam kissing your inner thighs. He walked over to the shower and turned it on, the heat radiating from it beginning to creep over your skin. Sam got up from the floor and picked your limp body up under your knees. He carried you to the shower, placing you down on your feet. The warm water washed over your feet and you felt so sleepy.
“Oh we’re not done just yet,” Dean said with a grin, as he walked into the over sized shower, the water falling over his body. He extended his hand and pulled you to him, your lips connecting. With your fingers, you made his wet spikes stand at attention. Kissing the freckles on his cheeks, you took a brief second to admire how beautiful his eyelashes looked so wet and dark.
Sam came up behind you, and you were suddenly sandwiched between the brothers. Dean’s cock was rubbing against your stomach, while Sam’s poked the small of your back. Both of their hands roamed along your wet body, your head leaning back to rest on Sam’s shoulder as Dean caressed your breasts.
Suddenly, Dean took your arm and roughly put you against the wall. His lips and teeth were on your neck how, his hands grabbing your hips and pulling with need.
“I want to fuck you until you can’t stand,” Dean growled in your ear, the head of his cock lined up to your entrance. With his strong hands he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around him, your back against the shower wall. As he pumped his hips, his cock worked inside you inch by inch. You felt so full, your walls clenching around him.
“So fucking tight, sweetheart,” Dean breathed, fucking you harder and harder with each passing second.
“Yes, Dean, fuckkk…” you moaned, your eyes locked on Sam. He was watching your face, watching your hands grab for your nipples as Dean fucked you. His hand was pumping his swollen cock, getting off on your facial expressions of pleasure, waiting patiently for his turn.
“I want you to cum for me,” Dean commanded, and you knew why. You were so tight and wet for him, he was going to cum. “Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” you moaned, your body tending up at his demands, biting your index finger. Dean reached down between you and worked his fingers over your clit. That was all it took to make you jump the cliff, your orgasm rocketing through you, making you weak.
Dean put you down softly, your feet hitting the warm floor again. Sam’s turn was up and he hurried forward, bending you over. You grabbed the bar in front of you and propped up your leg, arching your back. Sam gave your ass a slap, before easing himself inside you. He was so thick, so long; every push and pull from him sending shocks to your core. You gripped the bar hard, as he began to fuck you deeper.
“That’s it,” Dean crooned, moving your wet hair out of your vision with one hand, the other stroking his cock. “Let me see that pretty face.”
Sam’s hands gripped your waist as he fucked you, your eyes seeing stars. You were so overcome with pleasure, you had no idea what sounds you were making now. If Sam kept it up, you’d be cumming again.
As if Dean knew, he crouched down in your sight, rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb.
“Cum for Sammy,” he said. “Cum for us so we can cum for you.”
The most intense orgasm you’d ever experienced almost knocked you out with its force, your eyes rolling back in your head. Sam smacked your ass once more as you came, rubbing your hips as you came down from your high, before pulling out of you.
“Come here,” Dean said softly, helping you to kneel down on the tile just outside of the water stream. Both brothers surrounded you, stroking their cocks. You tipped your head back and waited for what was to come, as you began to hear their moans get deeper, more needy. They were going to cum, all over you.
You watched both of their expressions as they shot their hot cum all over your face and chest. Reaching down to rub your clit, you came again just seeing the ecstasy on their face, just hearing their whines and groans.
Only a few moments passed before they both helped you up under the arms, taking you back under the water. They washed you off, caressing your skin with their hands, leaving kisses along your neck and face.
The next ten minutes were kind of a blur, your body so weak and tired from everything today; the three mind blowing orgasms taking their toll. You remembered Sam drying you off and Dean dressing you in his t-shirt and sweatpants, before brushing your hair. You remembered Sam carrying you to your room, placing you in bed, before telling Dean he was going to make dinner. Sam kissed your forehead and left, while Dean climbed in bed with you. His legs wrapped with yours and he pulled you close by the waist, resting his nose in the crook of your neck.
“You do everything right,” Dean whispered, and with your eyes closed you smiled, squeezing his hand. “And we love you more than we can ever express.”
“I know…” you replied, trailing off, loopy from exhaustion. “I love you both sooo much.”
“Good girl…” Dean whispered, before falling asleep next to you.
Summary: Where you (yes, you) have a bad dream the night before your first hunt and Sam comforts you.
Word Count: 1308
Warnings: reader!fic, tickling
A/N: This is my first ever reader!fic so I really hope it came out okay! I tried my best to accommodate as many spectrums as I possibly could for everyone’s enjoyment.
Merry Squealing Santa 2k16, Fanficsandfluff <3
Fanficsandfluff’s note: Honestly, this is so fucking good I have read it three times already. THANK YOU SO MUCH I FEEL BLESSED!!!!!
It’s different once the shotgun in your hands is pointed with intent. It’s different when the clean slate walls and yellow paper target are replaced with the stench of aged bodily fluids and a glitchy ghost, and it’s coming right at you. You, left to guard the lobby while Sam checked the hallway ahead. Your body is petrified, helplessly unable to pull the trigger, as the ghost is suddenly upon you. A violent shove to your chest hurls you into a wall-
Your body jerks awake, and the bouncing from old springs is disorienting. Your arm and face feel frigid compared to the rest of you sweltering under the duvet. The desire to stretch your aching body and curl up so small you vanish war within you. Hot tears prickle at your eyes and threaten to spill onto your cheeks. A warm hand palms your side. You flinch, blinking hard.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sam’s voice is quiet and exhausted, croaking and sighing as he begins to wake.
You roll away from Sam despite the impossibility of him seeing your face. It’s too dark to see anything beyond the green LED clock reading 3:48 AM and the red blinking dot of the smoke detector. You push off the heavy comforter and sit on the edge of the bed, breathing in the cold air. Goosebumps spread across your body but you don’t attempt to rub them away. It’s a welcome return to reality after the dream.
“Hon, talk to me.” You feel Sam shift behind you. His long legs slide along either side of yours and long fingers gently pull your back into his solid chest. You don’t resist. The heat of his body melts the chill from yours where they touch and only amplifies where he isn’t. Your arms cross tightly over your chest. Sam’s follows suit and envelopes you. “Hmm?”
You tell him that it’s stupid, that it’s nothing, but he doesn’t respond with words; he slowly rubs your arms and brushes his lips to your shoulder. So you tell him about the dream. How you fear you are going to fail when face to face with a monster. That you’re going to be a disappointment to him. You don’t fight the tears as they come this time.
Sam’s thumb gently wipes your cheeks dry. “Now you and I both know that’s not going to happen.” He interrupts you as you open your mouth to protest. “You’ve been practicing for months to prove that you’ve got this. You begged me to let you come along for a ‘milk run’ job. And when I told you ‘no’, what did you do?”
You smile beside yourself. Sam hadn’t been expecting you to tackle him to the ground and wriggle your fingers into his armpits. At the memory of his shocked laughter and immediate change of heart, you remind yourself to thank Dean for the tidbit.
He smiles against your cheek. “You made me change my mind. And not just anyone can change a Winchester’s mind.”
You smirk, recalling aloud how it wasn’t hard.
“Oh? Someone sure has a lot of confidence when in a vulnerable position themselves.” Fingertips lightly graze your sides, slowly crawling across your stomach. The muscles in your shoulders tense as you ball your hands into fist. A playful stubbornness replaces the melancholy that had been clinging to you.
A wicked chuckle enters your ear. “I’ll make you change yours.” As if you were nothing, Sam wraps an arm under your knees and lifts you up and back, turning you both and effortlessly plopping you beside him on the bed. He lays a leg heavily across yours and tucks his foot under your calf. One of your arms is pinned under him, while his arm acts as a pillow for your head and laces fingers with you. “Just say you’ll come with me on the hunt and we can forget this ever happened,” Sam says, the words parroting your own from when you had him like putty in your hands.
You become acutely aware that his free hand has yet to be seen (or felt), and that your thin night garments offer no form of protection. Anticipation swells in your chest and an embarrassed heat rises to your face. You tell him that he’s being ridiculous.
His forehead nudges your temple gently as his fingers softly land upon your wrist and begin an agonizingly slow trickle down your forearm. “I’m pretty sure I’m being sensible,” he responds. Down they tickle the inside of your elbow, down under the curve of your bicep. Your breath hitches as you expect their next destination only to feel the feather light touch your lower belly near your hips. He grins against your shoulder at your reaction. “You worked so hard and now you’re trying to sell yourself short due to a couple of jittery nerves.” His fingers pick up their pace atop your skin, tickling a languid circle around your stomach, pausing to play with especially sensitive spots before moving on to the next.
“Can’t be nervous if your nerves are busy.” Blunt nails spider up your side to your underarms, scrabbling for a second before lifting away. A scritching of your kneecaps takes you by complete surprise only to jump moments later to your gently kneading your ribs. Your thighs are squeezed and tummy clawed. It all happens so rapidly that when the sensations stop your lungs are only catching up.
The backs of his fingers skim your neck and trace the shape of your ear as he affectionately mouths the other side. Then his fingers find their way along your clavicle and into your armpit. The tickling drips down each of your ribs, lingering near the back and lower ones. His fingers lay waste to your side before skating along your trembling stomach. Not long after are they dancing upon your hips and thighs. Sam, all the while, feigning complete ignorance of the ticklish assault his dexterous hand is delivering as he peppers your neck, ears and face with warm kisses.
It takes you a few moments to realize his hand has stilled to lying flat upon your belly. Endorphins zip through you with each quick heartbeat that pounds happily in your chest. You can barely making out Sam’s smiling face in the gloom as you tell him how mean he is with your tired voice.
“How am I the mean one? You’re the one trying to ditch me.” He laughs at your incredulous expression. “So, will you stop beating yourself up and help me finish this hunt? Or do I have to get that spot before you’ll concede?”
Your heart does a backflip at the notion. You tell him he wouldn’t dare, in an obvious dare.
“Is that a yes?”
When you don’t answer right away, he springs into action. Abandoning his original pin, he pounces to precisely tickle your worst spot with both of his hands. He varies from quick and light scribbling to deep tickling to draw out the most loud and free laughter he can from you. “C’mon, Sweetheart, just say you’ll hunt with me,” Sam teasingly whines, smirking at the silly sounds escaping from your throat.
Only after you cry out your compliance to his demands does Sam scoop you into his arms and holds you close as your giggles peter out. He strokes your back soothingly and kisses your forehead. Sweet exhaustion blankets you and, shyly, you feel bad for your neighbors for how noisy you were. But even that feeling fades as security and bliss radiate through you. Sleep comes quickly.
* * *
The next day, in the small haunted cottage outside a small town, you pull the trigger as easily as you had in the practice range. “Told you you couldn’t disappoint me,” Sam says with a proud smile on his face.
Summary: Sam talks to Cas about your plan and things go wrong
Word Count:1643
Warnings: None
A/N: Seriously guys, I’m sorry my summaries suck on this series. Also, I’m not sure when I’ll have time to write this month. It’s crazy busy between work and friends and my best friend getting married (What? We’re not old enough to get married! Gimme a juice box and my snuggie for goodness’ sake!) so I’ll try to write when I can because I’ll definitely need some down time that always comes when it’s just my laptop and me, but I’m not promising anything. Also, I kinda have no idea where this fic is going. So there’s that too. I’m open to any suggestions or anything you think might happen. Besides a vague plot and ideas that are still in the fetus stage, I’ve got nothing. I never thought this series would turn out this long and this intricate.
Unseen World – Upper Hand – Distrust and Scars – Drastically Deadly–Tone of Finality – Blind Spot – Good Intentions – Fleeing Inhibitions –Roundabout Conversations – Simple, Straightforward, and Stupid – Firm and Secure – Lingering Effects -- Ultimate Control – Magnetized -- Means to an End
“Simple?” Cas asked. Sam had just recounted your idea to the angel as quickly as he could. It took more time than he wished, but he needed Cas’s input. “That’s anything but simple.”
“But could it work?” Sam asked anxiously. “Y/N can get everything for the spell in a week or two except for—“
“The grace,” Cas broke in, thoughtfully. “You’d need more grace than what Dean has, because he already has the Mark. Preparing to take on a spell of this magnitude… it would be like the trials again, Sam. Are you prepared for that?”
Sam shrugged. “It has to be done, and it has to be me.”
He knew that you wanted to be the one to take this risk, but there was no way it could be you. To get the angel grace, you needed to be in Heaven, and you couldn’t go there. Besides, if the spell worked, but you still didn’t defeat Dean, then your soul would be his and he would control Heaven for all intents and purposes. So it had to be Sam.
Cas shook his head and turned away, struggling internally. “I don’t like the idea of killing my brothers or sisters to get you this grace…”
“I get it, Cas. I really do. But it’s either a few angels, or handing every last human, angel, demon, and monster to Dean on a platter.”
After a moment more, Cas nodded. “We should get started now, if we only have a week or two.”
Cas laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder and they were suddenly in Heaven’s prison. As Cas unlocked a cell and dragged out an angel, he kept speaking to Sam. “I’m not sure how this will affect you. Putting an angel’s grace in a human… But if any human has a chance, it’s you.”
“How many times do you think we’ll need to do this?” Sam knew how much you hated using this spell on him, watching him die. But it was necessary.
“At least two more times if this works.” Cas hesitated with his angel blade at the throat of the angel. Sam could tell the angel’s cries of mercy were getting to Cas, but his friend had his sorrowfully determined look painted on his face. “But I’m not certain how much you’ll need.”
Sam acknowledged Cas’s limitations and nodded at him to continue harvesting the grace. This whole situation was based on guess-work.
Cas made a careful slit in the throat of the angel and the glowing, misty blue grace slithered out. At first it protested going toward Sam, but with a few words of Enochian from Cas, the grace directed its stream to Sam and slipped past his lips. It burned going down his throat, but the worst was how the feeling permeated every cell of his body instantly.
Suddenly, Sam was sent back over ten years in the past. This rush of power was too much like the demon blood. Memories of Azazael and Ruby rushed up and Sam bent over, gagging and choking on the grace.
“Sam,” Cas’s concerned voice reached Sam moments before he realized Cas’s hand was on his shoulder, sending waves of… something calming through his veins. Slowly, he could feel the grace inside him start to settle, but there was still a searing pain shooting every which way.
Sam, your faint voice tore through the pain.
“Sam, are you okay?” Cas asked.
Sam, something’s wrong. You need to come back now.
“I’ll be fine, Cas,” Sam waved him off, trying to focus on you. “I gotta go. Time’s up.”
“I can’t hold on much longer,” exhaustion and strain coated your voice and Sam’s concern for you shot up a hundredfold. “C’mon Sam. I need you.”
Slipping back through the veil was easier this time, but Sam still woke up gasping for air. As soon as his body had enough oxygen to function again, he turned to you immediately. “Y/N?”
You had collapsed on the floor next to the bed, clutching your head. “Y/N!”
Sam swept you up in his arms and sat back on the bed, holding you close and pushing your hair out of your face. A sheen of sweat covered your brow. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
You just shook your head, groaning at the action. Sam eased your head into the crook of his neck and rubbed your back as you gasped for breath. He had no idea what to do. No idea what you needed. Nothing.
After a few minutes, you started breathing normally and the muscles in your body slowly started to unclench. Carefully, he eased you away so he could look into your face. Your eyes were still closed, but he could tell the pain had subsided slightly. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” you whispered in a scratchy voice. “When I started the spell… it felt…” you cut off, pursing your lips for a moment before finally opening your eyes a crack. “Did it work on your end, at least? What did Cas say?”
Sam related everything that happened. He left out most of the pain he’d felt with the grace, but other than that he told you everything. You lifted your hand to his chest weakly, resting it just over his heart. At your touch, his heartbeat picked up and the corner of your lip twitched. Then you looked up at him with concern. “How does it feel? The angel grace?”
“It hurt at first,” Sam understated. He didn’t want you to worry about him. Not when you weren’t sure what had just happened to you. “But I feel fine now. I mean, I can feel it inside me, but it’s just there. I don’t think it’s changing anything yet.”
*****
“Good,” you mumbled, wincing when another knife of pain stabbed through your head.
“What happened?” Sam repeated for the third time, arms drawing you closer as if that would fix the problem.
“I started the spell and I just felt… off. But it wasn’t too bad. The longer I held the spell, the worse it got. Then I did the reversal and…” The memory of that white-hot agony that paralyzed you for a precious few seconds had you shivering. “But I can handle it. You said we have to do this at least two more times?”
“If it’s gonna do that to you each time—“
“I’m a dead man walking if we don’t, Sam. I’d rather die doing this than wait for my time to be up and Dean to come collect my soul. I can handle pain.” Just the thought of going through pain like that again, though, made you want to curl up in a corner and never leave. But you had to do it. “Besides, it might not happen again. I mean, it’s never happened before. Maybe it was just a fluke.”
“Maybe,” Sam repeated, not convinced one bit.
Time to change the subject. There was nothing you could do about this now. “Could you get me some water and pen and paper? I need to make a list of what I need for the transferal spell.”
For the next two days, you watched as the angel grace took effect on Sam. He would wake up in a cold sweat, feel perfectly fine an hour later, only to puke up breakfast. It was like a virus, or like his body was rejecting the grace. But Sam was determined to make it work, so somehow he did.
After he felt normal, though slightly more inhumanly strong, for twelve straight hours, he decided it was time to go back to Heaven for the second dose of angel grace.
You apprehensively gathered the ingredients for the spell that was becoming too familiar. You were worried about what it would do to you again, but Sam didn’t need to know that. He had enough on his plate with the angel grace. If it would help him, you would put on a brave face and push through this.
“It’s still so weird to me,” Sam chuckled while you crushed the silverweed.
“What is?” You asked, glad for anything that would take your mind off the tingle of wrongness that was coursing through your body.
“Dean would have told me to wait longer to try again. He would have thought I couldn’t handle it and twelve hours isn’t enough time. But you…” He smiled over at you and you couldn’t help but smile back.
“We’re a team. You say you can do it, I believe you.” You shrugged and focused on the silverweed again. “Besides, we don’t exactly have the luxury of time right now. I figure it’s best to just plow ahead and not overthink things. We’ll crash if we slow down.”
“So we don’t slow down,” Sam agreed.
You both got lost in your own thoughts while you finished the spell. Every ingredient you used intensified the gnawing itch that was pulsing through your veins. The pain was coming on more quickly this time, but you pushed it away as well as you could. You didn’t have the option to take a breather. You had to push through.
“You good?” Sam asked when you handed him the cup. You nodded your lie and motioned for him to drink, not trusting your voice at the moment. “See you in six.”
Sam downed the potion and lay back. As the spaces between his heartbeats grew, the pain shot to your head, taking ahold in a vise-like grip. Sam’s heart stopped beating and you fell to the floor with a cry. Unable to move or even think, you didn’t notice the seconds ticking by, adding up to one minute. Two minutes. Three, four, five.
Six minutes.
Seven minutes.
Eight minutes passed. The agony grew so bad that the world caved in and your vision dissipated into flecks of stars.
Summary: Sam dies and goes to Heaven so he can talk to Cas
Word Count:1702
Warnings: None
A/N: If you ever watch Supernatural with me, you’ll find out that there are two things that I say every episode. 1) “Look at his eyes!” (This is usually for Dean, but honestly I’m a sucker for eyes so anyone goes in the right lighting) and 2) “He needs a hug! Just hug him!! Hugs all around!!!” (Everyone needs more hugs in their lives, but especially my Supernatural boys). So anyway, I’m starting this part off with a hug because I am a firm believer that hugs can solve all problems.
Unseen World – Upper Hand – Distrust and Scars – Drastically Deadly–Tone of Finality – Blind Spot – Good Intentions – Fleeing Inhibitions –Roundabout Conversations – Simple, Straightforward, and Stupid -- Firm and Secure
Sam opened his eyes to the glaring whiteness of Heaven’s halls. And so the countdown began.
“Cas?” he called out, unsure if the angel would be able to hear him. He’d only taken a few steps when Cas appeared in front of him, confused and concerned.
“Sam? What are you doing here?”
“I’m not dead.” He figured that was good to get out of the way. “Well, I kinda am, but someone’s going to bring me back in a few minutes. Look, I need to know if—“
Sam cut off when Cas stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly. Sam returned the hug, feeling really emotional all of the sudden. It had been years since he’d seen Cas and he hadn’t realized just how much he had missed his friend. “It’s good to see you, Sam.”
That low, growly voice took Sam back to the days when it was just him, Cas, and Dean against the world. If he had known those would be some of the best days of his life, he would have enjoyed them more. “Yeah. You too, buddy.”
Cas cleared his throat and stepped back, gripping Sam’s shoulder a second longer. “You said you only have a few minutes.”
“Yeah. Look, I don’t know if you can see what’s happening on Earth, but Dean’s taken over Crowley’s place and the freaking apocalypse is happening and we need some way to stop him. Preferably without killing him, but at this point…”
“I understand,” Cas said softly. He knew how hard that was for Sam. Cas was practically family himself—hell, he was family. “What can I do?”
“Y/N thinks that he’s getting some of his power from whatever he did to lock you guys up here. Do you remember anything that he did? Any way we can reverse the spell?”
“Hannah and Adina might know. They’ve been obsessing over this since we got locked up here.” Cas reached over and gripped Sam’s shoulder. In the blink of an eye, they were in a room where a group of angels were meeting around a table.
“Sam Winchester?” Hannah asked, shocked.
“Yeah, look, I don’t have much time.” He repeated the request and spent a few agonizing seconds as the angels all thought about it. Then Hannah and Adina shared a look and Adina leaned forward.
“It’s not like the trials. We know that much. Dean didn’t get this from the angel tablet.”
Hannah cut in. “We think it was just a powerful spell that he made… celestial.”
“So, like a one-way spell?” Sam asked, proud that he’d been right about that. “Souls can get in, but not out?”
“Yes,” Hannah’s forehead drew together and she looked at Sam with concern.
He just waved a hand. “I got it covered. What can I do on Earth?”
For the next few minutes, the angels told Sam everything they could. They informed him of the intel they’d gathered on Dean before being banished to Heaven, they told him briefly about the chaos that Heaven was, and they brainstormed what Sam could do. Then his watch beeped, signaling the end of six minute.
A tingling sensation wrapped around Sam, but he couldn’t go anywhere. As hard as he tried to get back, nothing was happening. He pictured you, thought of memories of you laughing, his promise to bring music back to you; he thought of you. But still, he was in Heaven.
Then, almost like a whisper of the past, he could hear your voice. All of his focus centered on that sound. C’mon, Sam. Wake up. You promised you would come back to me.
A frantic tone tripped into your words, but Sam could hear more clearly now, and the room of angels started to fade. “Sam you can’t leave me alone. I need you. I lied earlier when I said I was only kinda into you. I’m all in, Sam. Get your soul back here so I can tell you that I love you.”
The world snapped and suddenly Sam was coughing and gasping and sputtering for air back in the bunker.
“Oh, thank god. Here, drink this.” The cool lip of a glass was held to his mouth and Sam automatically did as you told him. Another vile mixture went down his throat and he gagged. A few seconds later, he could breathe normally, though the stench of the drink still coated his tongue.
Your hands were all over his face, turning his head this way and that checking for any damage or lingering effects. “I thought I lost you. We are never doing that again. Too close. Did it work? Did you see Cas? Get any answers?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sam held a hand up to ward you off for a moment. “I just died, can’t I get a minute to recover?”
You backed off a little. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right. Sorry. I’m just…” you held a hand to your chest as if trying to slow your heartbeat. “I thought you weren’t coming back. I’m… I’m so relieved.”
I love you.
Sam grinned affectionately and bumped your shoulder with his. “Glad to hear it.”
“So what happened?”
*****
“What was that nasty stuff you made me drink?” Sam asked, walking into the kitchen wearing only jeans. His hair was damp from the shower you’d insisted he take. From experience, you knew that after using that spell, a shower did wonders. “It was nasty.”
“It was either that or take around three hours to fully recover. Trust me on this one. That nasty stuff I made you drink was the lesser of two evils.” Your eyes trailed over each ripple of his muscles appreciatively. Now was definitely not the time to think about Sam’s body, but he was making it pretty hard to ignore. “Never thought I’d say this, but can you put on a shirt?”
Sam smirked and walked over, resting his hands lightly on your waist, fingers sneaking under the hem of your shirt. “Why? Am I distracting you?”
“Yes,” you breathed, not even embarrassed at the admission. Your fingers wandered up his chest and around his neck, burrowing into his hair of their own accord. “There’s a reason I didn’t shower with you, Sam.”
“And what would that be?” He slid his fingers under the waist of your jeans and tugged your hips to his.
This was more than distracting. This was… you didn’t have a good explanation. “We’ve kinda got the world to save. And since I can’t seem to think straight when you’re fully clothed, much less—“ you gestured to him, which was a mistake because it drew your eyes down to his chest again. You managed to look away, up at the ceiling. “I just think it would be best for now if we both wear clothes. All the time.”
Sam chuckled, his breath brushing the side of your neck. “Sure. I’ll go find a shirt. Just… one… more… minute.”
He guided your lips to his and kissed you sweetly, tenderly. You felt yourself losing the battle for self-control, but found that you really didn’t care. Gently, he walked you backwards until you hit the counter, then his strong hands gripped your thighs, lifting you onto the cold metal, not breaking the kiss once. Sam took the kiss deeper, more passionate. You pressed as closely as you could, twisting your hands in his hair until he moaned into your mouth.
Then, he suddenly pulled back. You made a noise of protest in the back of your throat, but it just made him smirk smugly. “I’ll go find that shirt now.”
Your frustrated groan followed him out the door and you could swear he had a swagger in his step that hadn’t been there before. It took you a few minutes to fully recover, and by then Sam was already in the library, wearing a tight t-shirt. He was determined to distract you, wasn’t he?
Somehow, you managed to tear your attention from the man in front of you and flip through lore and spell books for a few hours. You weren’t finding any spell like the one Dean could have used, and nothing that could counter it. In your years with Danny’s witch mafia, you’d never done anything like this. Mostly your deeds had been more like what drug lords and organized crime leaders dreamed of. Murder without leaving a trace. Scare tactics. Eavesdropping. Hiding shipments from the law. Convincing people to transfer loyalty.
But nothing this… huge. This was Heaven, you were talking about.
“Hey, Y/N. Let’s call it a night.” You looked up from the book you were poring over to see Sam leaning against a pillar in the doorway. All of the books he’d been looking through were neatly stacked. When had he left? He held his hand out to you. “C’mon. It’s late and it’s been a long day. We won’t get any further tonight.”
You eyed the books piled around you and agreed. You didn’t even take the time to organize them like Sam had with his. You were just going to pick up right where you left off in the morning anyway.
Hand in hand, you and Sam walked down the hallways to your bedroom. Once inside, you let go of Sam and walked over to the drawers where the clothes he’d left behind were still nestled, but halfway there you heard a scratchy sound the tugged on a memory. Seconds later notes of a song started and Ella Fitzgerald’s low, beautiful voice filled the room. You whirled around and saw Sam standing by a record player with a half-smile on his face.
“I know it’s not your music but—“
You didn’t let him finish. In the next second, you were across the room kissing him with all you had. Tears sprung to your eyes. “It’s perfect, Sam. It’s music again.”
One of Sam’s hands trailed down your arm until his fingers tangled with yours. “Dance with me?”
Dancing to real music. It was almost too much, but you nodded anyway. He pulled you close, enclosing your joined hands between your bodies and the two of you swayed and circled for an eternity.
Pairing: Sam x Reader
Words: 955
A/N: This one’s a little shorter so I hope you don’t mind. This also marks my first Sam fic which I’m really excited about and I have another in the pipeline that I’m working on. Tbh I’m glad requests for him are trickling in bc he needs more love😊
Bucky kicked your ass. You would never tell him that, but he did. Every inch of your body ached as you waddled back to your room. Sweat dripped down your face and you wiped it off with the back of your hand. The rest of it pooled on your clothes, causing a particular scent to roll off of you. A whiff of it made its way into your nose and you cringed when it hit you.
You peeled off your clothes and jumped in the shower as soon as you got back to your room. The cool water felt like heaven against your hot skin and it cleaned the salty wetness out of your hair. After a thorough scrub, you hopped out wrapped a towel around your body. You squeezed the excess water from your hair and let the rest of it drip down your back. It wasn’t long before you realized how much of a hunger you worked up from sparring with Bucky.
You were so hungry you didn’t even bother getting dressed first. Your tired legs carried you to the kitchen where you pulled a bowl out of the cabinet before you began your search for some cereal. Thor would kill you if you ate his Fruit Loops again and Natasha would come after you if even a scoop of her Coco Pebbles went missing. After a small internal debate, you figured you could take on Scott if he decide to ask who ate the rest of his Frosted Flakes. You were happily pouring a bowl of the forbidden cereal when company arrived.
“Hey, Y/N, what’s for breakfa-oh my god.” Sam said, instantly clamming up when he walked in.
“Just some cereal.” You answered nonchalantly, “You want me to pour you a bowl?”
“No uh I’m f-f-fine.” He swallowed a lump in his throat and you noticed he was getting awful squirmy.
“Are you sure? I won’t tell Scott we ate his cereal if you won’t.” You joked, trying to gauge his current state.
“I’m not that hungry now that I think about it.” He made to leave, but you blocked his path.
“Wait up, you don’t look too good.” You said in a worried tone as you set your bowl down and wiped your hands on your slightly damp towel. He moved away from you when you went to check his forehead as if you were going to burn him with your touch.
“Me? Oh yeah I’m just perfect.” He said, avoiding your glance, hands shaky as he crossed his arms.
“Sam, you’re shaking like a leaf and you’re sweating like a pig. There’s obviously something wrong.” You said in your motherly voice.
“Actually, I was training with Bucky and I’m probably still feelin it.” He laughed nervously, deliberately looking away from you and pretending to rub his sore muscles.
“No you didn’t,” You said simply, crossing your arms too, “because I just got done sparring with Bucky.”
“Uh this was a different time, earlier because you weren’t there.” He was slowly backing out of the kitchen and you followed him out.
“What are you talking about, Sam?” You asked, just the slightest bit suspicious, but more worried for your friend than anything else.
“Nothing! I just remembered that I need to go, right now.” He said as you blocked his path again, but he just pushed past you.
“Samuel Thomas Wilson, what has gotten into you?” You asked as you followed him into the living room, his back still to you.
He had never acted this weird around you before. You grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around, forcing him to look at you. He recoiled at your touch and held his hands up to make sure he didn’t come into contact with you. His eyes were looking everywhere except for directly at you and you were almost hurt at his behavior.
“What-nothing!” He said much too quickly.
“Sam, you’re really starting to worry me now.” You said and made another attempt to feel his forehead. He continued to back away from you, making you feel like a predator stalking its prey.
“I’m really fine, Y/N, I promise!” He said as the back of his legs bumped into the arm of the couch.
He tried to reach forward, but quickly pulled back when he came close to grabbing you. His arms were swinging like pinwheels trying to steady himself and he started to fall back. You reached out to grab his hand and help him stay up, but he was too heavy. Not to mention, you were exhausted and your muscles gave out as soon as you tried to keep you both from falling. He fell all the way back onto the couch and took you with him. You landed on his chest and knocked some of the air out of him.
“Oh my god, Sam, are you okay?” You asked, straddling him and looking down at him with your damp hair falling forward. His face was turning redder than a tomato and you were even more worried than before.
“Shit, no-I mean yes!” He sputtered
“I’m so sorry, here let me help you up.” You said, trying to move your legs off of his hips.
“It’s fine I got it!” He said, pushing you off of him and causing you to land on the hard ground.
“Ow! Sam, what is your problem?” You caught sight of his blushing face as he raced out of the room.
“Sorry Y/N!” He called back over his shoulder as he ran away from you. “I just really need to leave!”
“What the hell was that…?” You asked out loud and contemplated going after him, but he was long gone.
First prompt from @one-shots-supernatural‘s Hiatus Challenge!
Around 1500 words!
Reader and Sam attempt to defeat way too many demons at once. Prompt is in bold!
Sam Winchester was crazy. Sam Winchester somehow convinced me that we’d be able to take on eight demons with the just the two of us. Not that we had much choice- they were planning on killing us in just a few short hours; just when I had started to believe I wasn’t going to die.
Sam Winchester saved my life. Or rather, he tried to save my life from those same demons we were now trying to finish off. The demons had kidnapped me as I walked home from my mundane job but I wasn’t the only one. There were three other girls in this room with me just two days ago who had suffered a worse fate. I was stuck in this concrete room for five days, losing every last bit of hope I had of ever feeling the sun on my back again, until Sam Winchester barged in like he owned the place.
Not that he was there solely for me but I was the only one still alive and he was there to save anyone he could, ‘cause that’s how Winchester’s rolled apparently. In the process of finding my location, Sam took down two demons but didn’t know of the remaining eight. They managed to get him and strap him into a chair identical to mine. Their biggest mistake was also my greatest blessing- they left him in the same room as me.
While we waited for Sam’s brother, Dean- who we weren’t even sure was actually going to notice that Sam was missing- we got to know each other. Talking to Sam made me realize how badly I didn’t want to die. After two days of being in his company, Sam’s compassionate nature was what got me far enough from rock bottom that I didn’t question his reckless plan.
When Sam and I heard the whispers of our demise we knew it was time to get out. Sam rubbed his wrists raw to get out of his binds and then cut me out of my own. When the right time came around, we struck. Sam had the upper hand with being a seasoned hunter while I followed him and tried to stay alive.
The room was chaos as the demons tried to rush us. One was stupid enough to carry Sam’s demon-killing-knife to try and use it against us but with a quick punch to the nose Sam had it back in his possession. Sam tried to chant an incantation that was supposed to exorcise the demons but got interrupted whenever he had to step in to save my life, which was pretty often. But somehow, the demons started falling.
“See?” Sam asked as he plunged our only weapon into another demon. “Told you this was going to work.”
I snorted and side stepped a woman twice my size. “I’ll congratulate you when we make it out of this alive.”
Sam pulled the knife out and was by my side to finish off the woman with two quick steps. “I like your optimism.”
“Thanks,” I flashed him a smile and ran at one of the few remaining monsters. “Maybe this fighting thing is for me.”
As soon as the words came out of my mouth, my world was tipped and the man I had attempted to kick in the face had me pinned to the floor. He smirked down at me and taunted,
“Maybe not?”
In the same amount of time it took for him to take me down, Sam offed him and stood over me and had a hand outstretched to help me up. I winced and took it sheepishly, ready to crack a joke when Sam’s face contorted in pain before he slumped to his knees. I looked up to black eyes and had Sam’s knife in my hands without realizing I took it.
Something else in me took over as I stepped over Sam’s body to finish the demon off. We tussled for a while, neither of us willing to give in but somehow I won. It was so very satisfying being able to take one of them out without Sam to finish it off. But it was very tiring.
I bent over to catch my breath when a deep, unfamiliar voice called for my attention. I turned around with the knife ready for any attack to see a way too pretty man stomping my way. I raced for him too, weary of letting him get too close to Sam’s unconscious body. When we were closer to each other the pretty man went to swipe for the knife and I knew better than to let it go easily. It was the only thing that could kill the things like him.
I dodged his grab and tried to puncture him but he stepped out of the way. We went back and forth for a while- me trying to drive the knife into any part of his body, and him avoiding me almost easily. My frustration was growing with how effortless it seemed for him, my gaze snapping to Sam to make sure his condition hadn’t changed. But I couldn’t even tell what condition he was in to begin with. I had no idea what the demon did to make him black out like he did- I could only hope it wasn’t permanent.
“You know what?” The gruff voice of the man surprised me and I faltered with my next jab, giving him enough time to swipe a gun out of his waistband. I stopped completely, weak at the sight of the gun aimed for my heaving chest. The man let out a chortle, almost breathing as hard as I was.
Sam let out a groan and I was by his side without hesitation. Before I could press my hands to his chest the man yelled out,
“Stop! Step away from my brother!”
I did stop, but not for fear of the gun still pointed at me. I looked him straight on, “Brother? So you’re Dean.”
“Yeah,” he retorted and took a step closer to us. “And if you don’t back away from him right now you’re-”
I snorted. “Oh, shut up.”
Dean stopped short and I took the silence to press my head to Sam’s chest to listen for a heartbeat. He hadn’t moved a muscle since groaning but luckily his heartbeat was strong. I let out a sigh of relief and began prodding his head to figure out if that were the cause for his unconsciousness.
“What’re are you-” Dean tried to asked but, again, I interrupted him.
“One of the demons must have hit him or some- aha!” I cried when I found a sizeable bump on the bottom of his skull. I looked up to celebrate with Dean but saw that he was conflicted, still half pointing the gun towards me with a frown. I scoffed, “Oh, no- please, point the gun at me if it helps you relax.”
Dean glared at me as he switched the safety on his gun before returning it to his waistband. “Look, you attacked me first.”
“Did not!” I retorted. “You tried to grab the knife!”
“It’s our knife! All I saw was you had it, and brother’s body on the floor!”
“That doesn’t automatically mean-”
Sam moaned again and both of our attention was on him instantaneously. He brought a hand to his forehead and muttered my name which filled my heart with more happiness than I thought possible.
“Hey,” I tried to sooth him, pressing my hand on his chest gently. “I’m right here. You’re okay.”
His eyes opened and I grinned down at him, a feeling I wasn’t accustomed to blooming in my chest. He asked, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Sam.” I assured him, looking to Dean to share the relief. “Even if your brother did try to kill me.”
Sam turned his head and grinned as he greeted his brother. Dean smiled right back, coming close enough to offer a hand to bring Sam to his feet. Sam pulled me along with him and accepted the half hug his brother pulled him into without his smile faltering.
“Dude,” Dean sighed as they pulled away. “You were missing for a while.”
“Took you long enough to find us.” Sam retorted, wincing as he assessed the bump on his head.
Dean chucked and began leading the way out of the warehouse, Sam following close behind. I stood there and watched them, suddenly feeling like a third wheel. Sam had a brother and I had no one to notice I was missing for a week. I was suddenly envious of their relationship as they moved in sync. And then Sam stopped and turned to me with a perplexed look.
“Aren’t you coming?” Sam asked, nodding towards the exit.
“I don’t have anyone to go to.” I admitted.
Sam shook his head slowly. “I assumed you’d be coming with me.”
And there was that feeling in my chest again.
“Do you really want me to?” I couldn’t help but ask even as I stepped towards him.
“Of course.” He smiled at me, and looked to his brother. “Right, Dean?”
Dean shrugged. “I’m cool- as long as you don’t try to kill me again.”
I grinned as I reached them. “Deal.”
And that was that.
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