Jan 9
SAM WINCHESTER in random scenes 23/?
SUPERNATURAL | S12 EP11 : Regarding Dean
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SAM WINCHESTER in random scenes 23/?
SUPERNATURAL | S12 EP11 : Regarding Dean
"I wasn't expecting to have to argue with you, Sam. I thought you, of all people, would understand why I have to do this."
His brow was furrowed deeply, with a cavern of worry lines in his forehead. "I do understand. Completely. I just—disagree. You're going to get yourself killed." He sighed heavily and took a few hesitant steps toward you. "I wanted revenge after what happened to Jess. I chased after it. Blindly. And the only thing it gave me was a heaping pile of regrets and things I wish I could change. I don't want the same thing to happen to you and I definitely don't want to see you seriously hurt or killed. There are other ways to find peace," he said more gently.
And if anyone could talk you down off that ledge, it was Sam. Sam and his fucking soft kaleidoscope eyes and worry lines. You might as well put your bag of gear back into your closet when he was looking at you like that... Prompt: "I thought you, of all people, would understand why I have to do this." / "I do understand. I just disagree."
Birthday Dress
Request: Can you do a reader where she is turning twenty one, and the boys don’t want to celebrate, but Claire and her sneak out and Claire ends up taking her to a club, and she gets wasted AF, and they have to sneak back into the bunker, but they get caught. - Anonymous
Pairings: Dean x Reader; Sam x Reader
Warnings: Drinking; drunkenness; overly protective Dean; protective Sam; the tiniest bit of language; angst; fluff
Word Count: 2.1k
Author’s Note: Thank you for the request, Nonnie! I had fun writing this one! For the sake of this story, let’s assume Claire is also 21-years-old.
“What do you think?"
Tufts of gold lame billowed as you twirled in your birthday dress. Sam and Dean sat opposite each other at the library table, both wearing a similar shade of bitch face.
"No.” Sam stated flatly.
“Nope.” Dean agreed. “You’re not going out like that.”
“Like what?” you challenged.
“Like,” Dean struggled to find the words, “like some floozy.”
“Floozy?!” You looked down at your dress, confused and angered by Dean’s response. The skirt hit just above your knee, and while the neckline didn’t leave much to the imagination, it was far more tasteful than anything you’d ever seen on the women Dean liked to bring home.
You tried to compose yourself with a deep breath. You knew Dean’s overprotective nature could get the better of him, and his criticism of your appearance was his way of showing that he cared. Winchester men had many strengths but emotional expression was not one of them.
“I’m a 21-year-old woman,” you calmly reminded him, “I’m not asking permission to wear this dress, I’m showing it to you.”
“Don’t sass me, young lady!”
While you could appreciate Dean’s well intentions, your patience always faltered when his safeguarding shifted to defensive bickering. You knew you had to stand your ground.
“Or what?” You stared him down. “What are you gonna do about it, old man?”
“I will lock you in your room.” Dean threatened without hesitation, not even acknowledging your insult.
“I’d like to see you try.” you dared.
She’s Got This
Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader
Tags: badass!reader, scared!Sam, protective!Sam, ectoplasm
Word Count: 659
A/N: I know this one is a little underwhelming in comparison to what I usually write, but I’m moving tomorrow, and I’m big stressed :’)
(Gif not mine)
Sam had been scared before. Hell, he had been downright terrified. Actually, he didn't even think a word existed to accurately portray the copious amounts of fear he had felt before. There had been times when he found himself face-to-face with death, knowing damn well that his time could finally be up. But he had always been incredibly lucky. So, yeah, he knew fear. With all the shit he had seen and dealt with, how could he not? But nothing even came close to when he heard her high-pitched scream, sharp and piercing, shatter the eerie quiet in the cemetery.
Panic all but consumed him, and he broke into a sprint without a second's hesitation. His worst fear was that he would get to her too late, and she wouldn't be there. Or worse: she would be, but in a heap on the ground with blood soaking into the soil around her. Sam couldn't help but imagine the worst-case scenario. At this point, his brain was practically hardwired to do so. The wind whistled in his ears as he ran, long hair tumbling into his face, and patches of dry grass crunching beneath his shoes. Even as fast as he was running, his heart still pounded in his chest faster than his feet against the ground. He wanted to scream her name, desperate to hear her voice, but he knew if she was in any immediate danger, it was best not to alert whatever had her that he was on his way.
Hot Springs Blow
a/n: From the Land of the Ice and Snow (Part 4). Last part.
()()()()()
It took Sam less than a minute to figure out what happened to his brother.
Overcoming his initial gut-wrenching panic at the empty space in front of the barn, he cleared his head and focused on finding Dean. The bright red blood was bright against the white snow, and Sam thanked whoever was listening that the trees right above the barn had limited the amount of snow that otherwise would have covered the stains. He followed the blood trail up up up the road, until he got to the Impala. Sam grimaced as he saw the bloody handprints on the roof and sides of the car. Brushing away the snow piled on the windows, Sam pressed his face to the glass and peered inside, hoping but already knowing that Dean wouldn’t have dragged himself all the way to the Impala to get warm. Not if Dean thought that Sam was in danger. No, knowing Dean, he wouldn’t have let himself get a moment's worth of rest before staggering off into the whirlwind of snow in search of Sam.
Cursing his brother, who by the looks of the first aid kit and bloody rags strewn around the trunk of the car had actually managed to remove the bullets from his body, Sam realized that Dean’s plan had been to walk until he got to Sam. But that was impossible. Sam would have seen Dean on the road. Unless the snow was falling too quickly. Unless something had happened to Dean along the way. Cursing louder, Sam took off at a jog back to the car he stole- no, borrowed, from the men. It roared to life, too loud in the still silence surrounding him.
Sam wanted to speed down the road, yelling out for his brother, but fought his every instinct to do so. He might miss something that way. A footprint. A bloodstain. A small, seemingly insignificant thing that could save his brother’s life. So Sam grit his teeth and drove slow, whipping his head from left to right, looking for something, anything, that could help him.
Even then, he almost missed it. The slightest depression in one of the growing snowdrifts by the road. At first, Sam drove right by, but then with a screech of tires he put the car in reverse and scrutinized the snow. He couldn’t take the chance of driving off without knowing for sure, and he clambered out of the car and walked around. Sam froze. There was a faint trail of red splotches leading up to the slope, and then they got to the indent and vanished. Fearing the worst, Sam swallowed thickly and looked over the side of the road. Down down down went the hill, and what spurred Sam into motion was the glaring red stain on the snow at the bottom of the hill.
Sam talks to Mary. He’s worried about Dean. But Mary isn’t really worried. She thinks he needed a break after what he’s been through. Sam isn’t sure about that. Primarily because Dean hugged Sam before he left.
(sidebar: worried Sam :) *coughs* I mean, also worried!Sam :( )
:)
Dean!
@kittycat-cas has written a new, updated version of this as a tag to 13x05. Enjoy!
White hot pain. That’s the first thing he feels as he stabs the needle into his chest. Then he falls, he registers Sam behind him, holding him as he dies. How many times have they done this? The pain stops, and the next thing he knows, he standing over his own body as Sam moves him to his back and keeps his promise, protecting him.
Sam does all he can to wait and not stab Dean with the reverse of the drug. He knows what Dean has to do and he needs to play his role too. When the time comes he’s quick to grab the needle to revive his brother. Uncapping it with his mouth and moving his shirt down to gain access, he stabs it into his brother’s chest. Hoping he isn’t to late.
A few seconds pass, then a few more, and nothing. He digs his knuckles into the middle of Dean’s chest, trying to rouse him. But again, there is no response.
“Dean?”
“Dean!”
“Hey Dean” another, more violent shake.
“No, no, no, no, no, no. Dean! Hey!” He shouts, both hands on his brother’s shoulders, kneeling beside him in the salt circle.
“You hear me? Dean!” He shouts once more, still not believing this is happening.
He turns his brother on his back. “Dean! Dean! Hey! Wake up!” He swallows back the emotion and leans down next to his brother’s mouth. Hoping to feel the warm breath tickle his cheek. Nothing.
Then his fingers probe at his brother’s neck, feeling for a pulse. Again, nothing.
Sam can’t wait any longer, he puts one hand on Dean’s chest, his other interlocked on top. He brings to compress his brother’s chest, one...two...three...he continues to thirty. He opens his brother’s airway, one hand gently on his forehead, the other under his chin and blows, watching his brother’s chest rise and fall.
He’s about to give him another breath as Dean gasps awake. His chest is in agony, the two needles and compressions not being gentle with his body.
He sits up without warning, mouth and wide open, gasping for breath. He takes a few more, catching his bearings and his breath before turning to his younger brother.
“Dude, you better have not kissed me.”
Sam let’s out a breath of relief not wasting a moment as he grabs his brother, pulling him close to his chest.
“You really need to stop doing that.”