jV

don't dream its over - crowded house

[vxmpdean]

Taking Story Requests !

Got an idea for a Dean or Sam Winchester x Reader fanfic? I'm open for requests ! 🥸

If there’s a plot you’ve been dying to see written, shoot me a message- I’d love to bring it to life <3

[nondelphic]

"just write a little every day" ok but what if i write nothing for 3 weeks and then suddenly type like i’m being hunted by god

[vxmpdean]

A man who yearns, IS A MAN THAT EARNS !

SAY IT WITH ME NOW

A MAN WHO YEARNS IS A MAN THAT EARNS 🗣️ !!!!

[vxmpdean]

I just spent most of my time just rewatching Supernatural … and forgetting that I have some fanfics to write

But trust to believe that I am watching that Wendigo episode (S1 E2) more than once to see those beautiful men AYYY 😛😛😛

[vxmpdean]

The pure agony I feel whenever I hear "Lover, You Should've Come Over" by Jeff Buckley

OMFGAAHDMIUEH IMGONNAKMSILOVETHISSONGBUTITPAINSMESOMUCHSJDN

[vxmpdean]

Me when y'all like my fanfics 👅

( this is your sign to read them R N ! ! )

[vxmpdean]

THE SOFTEST LIGHT

Sam Winchester x Reader

AUTHORS NOTE: Hey Alexa play “Fade Into You” by Mazzy !

WARNINGS: Slice of Life, Fluff, Mention of Size Difference (Reader is Shorter than Sam Winchester), Yearning, Stanford!Sam Winchester, Lots of Dialogue in the end lolz 

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

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The drive to the coast was quiet, the kind of silence that had weight but no discomfort. The windows were cracked just enough to let that salt air drift in, and the sky hung in its greyness- soft like a hazy memory that was covered by a fog. 

Sam didn’t speak much, just glancing at you every once a while, enjoying the way the faint light rays from the sunset painted your face, casting out all your features he adored so much. 

You inhaled the sweet air, the comforting setting making the body at ease. Everything was good.

This was good. 

You leaned back in your seat and gazed out in the distance, watching those waves crash onto shore, the sand darkening the moment the water swam over it. The music played softly from the radio, almost creating a background sound for them to enjoy this moment even more. 

You glanced at Sam, silently soaking up his side profile and silent presence. His sleeves pushed up to his elbows, showing his muscular forearm and you forced yourself to look away, feeling your cheeks heat up. 

He could feel your eyes on him and he suddenly felt very aware of his presence, feeling more than nervous the longer you held your gaze on him, “Once we unpack everything, let's share a beer and take a walk?” 

Sam’s soft spoken voice alone can make your heart melt, just the pleasing sound of it was like a melody that cannot be described in words but feeling. 

You looked at him again, nodding and watched the corner of his lips curl into a smile. 

God that smile. 

At this rate, it was like you yearned for him in ways that it became concerning to feminism. 

When you discovered your feelings for Sam, you tried to push it down. It was worthless. It had to be some silly crush…the way his laugh made your stomach twist, or the way he looked down at you with those puppy eyes- fuck you had to stop yourself from thinking too much, and not fanasize about that stupid height of his. 

_ _ _ _ _ _ 

“Sam how in the hell did you fit all this in the trunk?!” You laughed as you looked down at the bags and luggages that tumbled down to the ground. You moved your way through the maze of bags and huffed as you stumbled. 

Sam caught you just as quick and pulled you close, his warmth radiating on your skin. His delicious scent drove your mind and thoughts you never knew existed flashed through your head. 

Your heart raced at the close contact, wanting nothing more than to just lean in more and melt onto his skin. To feel his skin in ways you never felt before, to feel the way his body moved against yours in such inappropriate ways. 

“A man never shares his secrets.” He said with a smile, finally letting you go- and thankfully not hearing the small noise of protest from the lack of warmth from you- as he quickly went over to pick up the bags, linking them one by one on his arm and he grunted his way back to the cabin. 

You paused at his statement, frowning, “Isn't it supposed to be ‘a woman who never shares her secrets’?” 

He let out a snort and turned towards the cabin, creating the perfect opportunity for you to flip him off. You smirked at the sight, amused and somewhat grateful that you didn’t have to do any of the heavy lifting.

_ _ _ _ _ _ 

The cabin was perfect. 

Perfect from the hand crafted ceilings to the decorative pillows. 

The big windows overseeing the grey ocean, the fireplace where its smell linger in every room, and the picture frames decorated in cracked seashells. 

“What happens if I put an offer on this cabin?” You breathed out, jumping onto the couch and bounced on the soft cushions with a bright smile on your face. 

Sam placed the last bit of bags onto the floor and chuckled, shaking his head in response to your ridiculous question. You grinned at his reaction, finding everything adorable about him- and threw a pillow at his head, laughing out when it hit him square on the face. 

“Hey!” He protested. 

Just the way his muffled laughter made your heart squeeze- it was too much. Maybe it was a bad idea for the two of you to be alone like this. 

For you especially. 

Maybe you'll do something you'll regret, like confess your feelings to him that's been gnawing at your chest for god knows how long. That desperate nag to let it all out just so you can hold him in your arms without guilt, or to finally kiss those lips you spent way too much time staring at. 

This was almost pathetic. 

And embarrassing. 

But god, you can’t help it the way your body gravitates towards him, feeding off his smiles and soft looks, and wanting to sink your teeth into his neck to just taste him like a vampire. 

Yeah, really pathetic. 

All of a sudden it's too hot in this cabin and all you can think about is his lips moving over your skin to your lips and-

“Let's go on that walk hm?” You strained out, giving him a smile too wide and quickly jumped off the couch, making your way to the door without looking back. 

“Wow and forget the beer? You're a changed person.” Sam teased, following you without question and shut the door behind him, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he protected himself from the cool salty air. 

The water was cold, but it made every part of your body feel alive. Free. Awake. You squealed as new waves came washing by, drowning your feet with its foamy whites and clear blues. 

“You’re going to catch a cold.” Sam grumbled, keeping his distance from the water as much as possible, and also keeping an eye on you. Watching your every move as you walked peacefully in the cold water, finding it hypnotizing the way the light breeze pushed back your hair, the soft look on your face as your lips kept forming in smiles whenever the water hit your skin. 

You playfully kicked the water in his direction and snorted, “And you’ll be there to make me feel better.” 

Sam groaned but couldn't help himself to smile, already creating images on how that would look, seeing you bundled up in one too many blankets,  “You suck… the last thing I need is to get sick too.” “I will gladly buy you a hazard suit.” You hummed. 

Sam laughed, a hearty sound that sent Cupid's arrows spamming into your heart. You weren't able to stop yourself from laughing along, his laughs are just as contagious as it is addictive. 

_ _ _ _ _ _

His jacket. 

Raw vanilla. 

Sandalwood.

Coffee. 

And most importantly, warm. 

You didn’t know how to react when Sam offered his jacket, draping it over your shoulders before you could even say anything and quickly started the outdoor fire so he himself wouldn't freeze to death. 

It should be illegal how he smells like comfort. Peace. Love. Hope. Stubbornness. 

It sounds stupid when you put it into words. 

But feeling it is a different story. 

Sensing it is a different story. 

You watched him silently, sipping on wine, as he grabbed a match, with a flick of the wrist, beheld the tiny spark of fire on the stick and threw it into the pile of woods. The hit of firewood washed over your senses immediately, filling the air soon after with its smog that crawled up into the dark sky.

The smell of firewood was one of your favorites, and today just seemed to hit more different than other times. You weren't sure why. Maybe you enjoyed it more because it mixed in the smell of Sam. 

God this is pathetic. You don’t know how many times you said that already. 

The crackling of the fire, the ocean waves, the seagulls all drowned out by the long conversations you both had. Some were filled with more laughter than others, some more thoughtful, and some more meaningful, emotional, soft. 

You stared at Sam as he went on about his future, what he wants best and some of his worries. You listened, but some parts you zoned out when you followed the shadows that casted on his face from the fire, every now and then the light flickers and more features showed in the hazy light. It was mesmerizing. The way he was patient with you when you didn’t understand something, or the way he smiled and his dimples popped in, or the way he was able to voice out his thoughts so clearly, it was like he was painting a picture for you. 

More like you were a painting to Sam. 

He liked seeing you in his jacket. In some ways, there is a small part of him that enjoys it because it marks you as his and no one else's. Almost like marking you. 

But it's the way you drown in the dark brown material, your eyes bright and clear where you can see every movement through them just as well as wearing glasses. It holds so much emotion and quality that it makes him feel grateful to be able to stare into them long enough before looking stupid. 

You looked breathtaking in the light of the fire. The orange haze that shined over your face made every feature reveal itself. And Jesus fucking Christ- it was like falling in love with you again.

 It was like realizing he wanted to kiss you more than anything when you guys went on that trip to the Dunes back in Nevada. How he wanted to brush off the sand from your cheeks just to have an excuse to feel your soft skin underneath his fingers. 

As the night went on, bottles of wine seemed to go empty faster than usual and laughs were more in the air. 

“I forgot how good this feels. Fire, waves, no phone signal… like the world finally shut up for a second.” Sam sighed, bringing the glass to his lips. 

“Yeah, it's weirdly nice,” You hummed, placing the cool glass against your flushed cheeks, “I thought I’d hate being this disconnected, but I kind of wish we could live like this.”

Sam chuckled and nodded in agreement before raising an eyebrow at you, “Well, maybe not the part where I saw a raccoon steal our chips.” 

You laughed, “Hey! He earned them! Bold little thief. You didn’t even try to stop him.” 

“I wasn’t about to wrestle a raccoon, I like my face the way it is.” He grins before going silent for a second, “This place reminds me when I was a kid… those small moments of peace. No plants, just… whatever happened, happened. My dad would drive my brother and I do random wrestling games and… I miss that in some ways.” 

You hummed again, smiling softly as he recalled that small memory. 

There was a moment of silence, Sam's eyes stayed on the shining stars that panned over the dark sky, and yours was stuck between the fire and Sam. 

“I don’t think I’ve felt this calm in a long time.” You said quietly, moving your gaze to the fire before Sam could meet yours, “You always have that effect though.”

Sam tilted his head, making sure he heard that right before fully looking at you, his puppy dog eyes digging into your soul, “What? Making people feel calm?” 

“No, just…” You shrugged weakly, “Making me feel okay. Even when everything else feels messy.” 

They fell into a quiet pause, Sam’s eyes still on you as you looked away, feeling flustered and fuzzy for saying such things, it almost felt like a confession more than a casual statement.

No more wine for you. 

Sam couldn't help but smile faintly, looking down at the red liquid in his glass as he tried to find his words, anything to keep this conversation going to he could hear what's on your mind, What had possessed you to say such thing to him and how he just wanted to kiss your future worries goodbye,

“You know, I still remember the first time we talked, First week of Stanford, that giant lecture hall. You were sitting alone with your headphones in and somehow still looked stressed.” 

“Because I was stressed!” You groaned in small protest,” But then you sat next to me and offered me half of your weird, sugar free granola bar.” 

Sam rolled his eyes at the last comment, finding it amusing how much of a sweet tooth you can be with particular things. He opened his mouth to respond to that but you managed to beat him first by saying, 

“And I thought, “Okay. Maybe I won’t fall apart.”” 

Sam’s gaze softened and you swear your heart stopped, his eyes were already soft- now they looked kinder, softer… he had to be doing some sort of witchcraft the way your mind seemed to spiral at the sight. “I didn’t know what I was doing either. I just saw you and… I don't know. Something about you made me want to sit down.” He said quietly, the crack of the fire jolting in the background. 

“Funny how things stick like that.” You commented even quieter. 

God how can you get cuter than this. Sam thought he could fall to his knees and praise the shit out of you to the universe, starting out every reason why you are perfect and why you should be with him.

 “And somehow, we’re still here. You and me.” 

“You and me.” You repeated back. 

Your eyes meet for a second, a soft kind of silence settles, like you guys are both aware of something unspoken just under the surface.

“Have you ever thought about it?” Sam whispered, his voice low and steady, like he was scared to say something wrong, “How close we’ve gotten? What is this?” 

It feels like your heart is going to explode, you kept your eyes on his, trying to read his expression the best you can, 

“All the time.” You whispered a beat softer, “But I guess I never want to say the wrong thing and mess it up.” 

“Me too.” 

Another long pause. The seagulls sang while the fire pops, the waves crashing onto shore switches back and forth. The night heat made everything feel more vivid, more alive as the alcohol in your systems seemed to make everything move in slow motion. 

Sam shifts, his knee brushing against yours and he inhales sharply. 

Neither moved away. 

“It feels right,” Sam croaked out, finally breaking the tension, “Being here with you. I don’t know how else to say it.” 

“You don’t have to,” You said, leaning closer before grabbing at his collar and pulling him even closer, your breaths mingling in with each other, “I feel it too.” 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

AUTHORS NOTE: Sooo.. did we like this one chat?

What do you think Sam Winchester smells like? I honestly just did these scents because put together they make a yummy warm scent, which suits Sam perfectly with how strong and soft-spoken he is yk?

I am back on the grind of making more stories for you cuties !!

Love you lots ! Stay safe ! Drinks lots of water !

Requests are still open ;)

[brimstonebxtch]

[vxmpdean]

Hi! Since you take requests, can you do one with Dean Winchester x type1diabetic reader? It can be about whatever, that if you are comfortable doing so. Please and thank you!

SUGAR AND STEEL

Dean Winchester x Type1Diabetic!Reader

AUTHORS NOTE: Heyheyheyyy ! This is a little cute slice of life fanfiction and I hope I didn’t give out misinformation about type 1 diabetics in any way ! I have done some research just so I can write this properly and not go off with what I knew- which wasn’t very much tbh :,0

I hope you enjoy & thank you for being the first request :p !!

WARNINGS: 

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Dean Winchester wasn’t exactly the textbook definition of a caretaker. He was more "duct tape and whiskey" than "tender love and care." 

But somehow, when it came to you, he figured it out.

It was well past midnight and the bunker was quiet. The pattern of the machines humming, making the whole place rumble faintly- it was a white noise that can put anyone to a deep sleep. You had crashed early, thinking you'd make it through the night without an issue, but something tugged you awake. Your blood sugar was tanking, and you felt it in the tremble of your hands and the fog in your head.

You fumbled for your glucose tabs on the nightstand, cursing softly when you knocked the container to the floor- the sounds of the tablets crashing on the floor wasn't exactly the comforting sound you needed at the moment. 

Dean’s voice came from the doorway- breaking your deep concentration for breathing as you looked up from the floor-, rough with sleep, but alert. Always alert. You assumed he was in the library, doing endless research and finding more hunts to do the next morning… he was still wearing those ridiculously adorable reading glasses you gave him a while back when you noticed how he would squint ever so slightly when he reads. 

You didn’t even have to answer before he was by your side, crouching down to pick up the scattered tabs and handing one to you like it was second nature.

“You okay?” he asked, watching you closely, eyes scanning you like he would a wounded hunter. Not panicked, but focused. Ready.

You nodded, chewing slowly, savoring the bittersweet taste that exploded on your tongue. “Low. I felt it coming on.”

“Yeah, figured. You get that look,” he said, softening just a little. “Like you’re here, but not really.”

You gave a weak smile. “Sexy, huh?”

Dean chuckled and carefully wrapped his arms around you, carrying you onto the bed before climbing in beside you, wrapping an arm around you once again gently,

“Yeah, well. Beats the hell outta demons and ghost guts.”

You leaned into him, the warmth of his chest grounding you while your body started to stabilize. He didn’t say much-just held you like it was something he’d trained for, like he’d done a hundred times. 

Because he had.

After a moment, he nudged your forehead with his lips. “I hate that you have to deal with this. I’d take it from you if I could.”

You swallowed, the sugar finally kicking in, and whispered, “It’s really not that bad once you get used to it. But you being here? That helps more than you think.”

Dean stayed quiet after that, letting his hand trace lazy circles on your arm until your heartbeat settled. 

You both drifted off- him curled around you protectively, as if daring the world to mess with you while he was there.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

AUTHORS NOTE: Requests are still open xx

[spokitten]

[vxmpdean]

Rewatching season one of Supernatural and forgot how soft spoken Sam was omg ☹️☹️☹️

MY BABY OH 💔 (bro is a 6’4 grown ass man)

[vxmpdean]

I have the worst case of writers block right now

SOMEBODY FREE MEEEE I CANT

I’m just staring at my computer screen, having great ideas, but I can’t write them ? ! OOHH LOOORRDD IM GOMNA TWEAK

[vxmpdean]

Soulless For Me? PT.2

Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

AUTHORS NOTE: Finally part two!! I honestly cut it short by like... five pages because I felt like it sucked and erm... I don't know how to write good "smut" ykykyk

So I'm sorry if this story cuts short! I promise in future writings it wont' happen :)

{ Reminders that I do take requests ! Send me a message of your amazing idea and I will try my absolute hardest to bring it to life :p I need some inspo anyways! }

WARNINGS: Emotiona; (?), Fluff, Light Smut (Cut Short. & Doesn't Go Into Detail), & yeah :0

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Okay,” You whispered, patting his back, signaling him to let go,” I need to tell your brother and Bobby. I need to start packing soon.” 

The words felt like a punch to his stomach. Sam reluctantly loosened his grip on you, allowing you to leave. 

But every part of him was screaming and resisting, telling him to hold you back, to find other ways to convince you to not do this, or hold you until you were pried away from him.

He let out a shaky breath, the pain in his chest was almost unbearable- he was about to lose you.

He was losing you the more time passed. Every hour counted, every minute, every second, every breath, every blink. 

Sam slowly took a step back, putting some distance between the two of you. He looked at you silently, the storm of emotions messed up his thinking skills. Everything he wanted to say, everything he held back before, just everything needed to be known but he couldn’t. It was like someone glued his mouth shut and forced him to suffer in pure silence- drowning in his suffocating, overwhelming emotions and feelings. 

You smiled sadly at him before stepping out the bedroom, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and walking down the stairs silently, letting yourself soak up every detail of Bobby's messy, but homey house. 

You walked in the living room where Dean and Bobby were speaking in hushed tones, their expressions tense yet strained. Whatever Bobby said last made Dean frown, opening his mouth to protest before hearing your footsteps waltz in. 

A mixture of emotions flashed on his face- worry, sadness, and even anger. But he knew losing his temper wasn’t going to help. Not when he could read your stubborn body language. 

He sat up straighter on the couch after hearing your small, ‘Hey’ and watched as you made your spot on the couch, bringing your knees to your chest with a weak smile. 

“Hey…” He mumbled back in a low voice.

“So…” You glanced at them, “You guys figured out my whole deal with the hellhound thing huh?” You laughed weakly, seeing Dean wince silently from your words. 

“Yeah, yeah… you’re really not the secretive person out there.” Bobby grumbled, keeping his gaze stuck on the scattered papers on the desk. 

An awkward silence between the three. Unspoken words hung in the air like broken ornaments just waiting to fall and cut into saddened skin.

You cleared your throat- something to disturb the silence that made you want to peel your skin off- looking at the two boys again, “I’ve decided that I will go back to my hometown. I haven’t been there in years and I think it's best that I just…stay there, in a place where I am comfortable and… and safe.” 

Both Dean and Bobby stayed quiet, listening to you with heavy hearts. The room became silent once again after you said your plan- the words “I am leaving tomorrow night’ seemed to echo in their heads repeatedly. 

Dean furrowed his brows, the pain of losing you clear on his face. He wanted to argue, to somehow convince you to change your mind… but there was nothing he could do knowing Sam tried just as hard to fight against this. 

After a moment of silence, he managed to find his voice and muttered, “Are you… are you sure about this?” 

You smiled weakly with a small nod, “It's for the better.” 

Dean let out a shaky breath, glancing back at Bobby for a second. He knew you were set on this, but it was a hard pill to swallow. He looked back at you, noticing that forced smile on your face,

“How the hell is this better?” He asked in a strained voice, fighting back to start an argument, “Losing you? How are you saying that so calmly?” 

“Well, it wouldn't be really nice nor comforting for me to sob my heart out in front of you boys.” You shrugged, scrunching your nose. 

As you said that, he suddenly realized how strong you were. You were trying to hold yourself together and stay strong, even though you were gonna go through hell. 

He felt a pang in his heart, feeling guilty knowing that he should be fighting against you and for you. He should be grabbing every book to exist and read every single word- just to find a way to escape this. Of course there will be a way- there has to, him and Sam always made sure of it.

Bobby shook his head softly, the raw, pained feelings getting to him more than he liked, “You can cry, you know… you don't have to pretend to be strong in front of us. You’re my kid, I care about you. 

“I know,” You whispered, smiling when you heard Bobby call you his kid… it left your heart blooming just a little from the sweet word, “I am going to start packing, so I’ll be in my room if you need me.” 

Dean watched as you hurried away, biting on his nails as he frowned, silently praying for some kind of miracle to stop this from happening.

----------------

Sam was still in the room, sitting on the bed with an empty stare. He blinked when he heard the bedroom door click and looked up at you, his eyes saying so much but not enough at the same time. 

You silently sat next to him, pushing your hands under your thighs as you kept your gaze on the floor, tracing the hardwood shapes and bumps.

“You okay?” You asked before thinking- immediately regretting it as soon as it came out of your mouth. 

Sam answered, “No.” 

You glanced back at the bags, staring at the neatly folded clothing and items stuffed in, each bag having their own meaning and place to it, each holding your entire life in them. 

It was like those bags were mocking you.

Making your thoughts go negative than already is.

Giving you second thoughts.

Creating fear. 

You looked away before you could drown in your thoughts, quickly pushing them off the bed with a huff. 

Sam flinched at the sound of the bags hitting the floor, ripping him away from his own thoughts and looking at you, sitting next to him so quietly, so beautiful, so perfect. 

“Want to sleep with me tonight?” You asked quietly, meeting his puppy-dog eyes, that ache in my heart more pronounced at the sight. 

He froze for a second at your question, a wave of surprise washed over him. He blinked, opening his mouth to say something but nothing came out. 

He craved for you touch- even though the only thing he felt was your accidental light brushes and hugs. He wanted nothing more than to keep you in his arms forever, breathing in your scent, and feeling your skin against his. 

He nodded slowly, not trusting his voice to speak. 

You nodded back, almost melting at how adorable he looked in this moment. 

Gosh what has life become. 

“You know…” You croaked out, shifting to look at him more clearly, “I regret not telling you how I feel about you sooner. I feel like things would've been different…” 

Pain washed over his face and he forced himself to look away, his fists so tight his knuckles turned while.

 It was all too much. Too soon. Too overwhelming. 

He swallowed down the lump that waa forming in his throat, inhaling sharply before looking back at you, his eyes immediately softening- like they couldn't stay mad at you even for a minute,

“I wish I could go back and fix the past.” He whispered, “The amount of times I wanted to kiss you… to hold you…to just call you mine…” He couldn't help but cup your face, feeling your soft skin underneath his large hands. 

You leaned in his touch, breathing out a heavy breath as your heart squeezed at his small confession. 

All those times where they had tension, those glances at each other, when they caught each other's eyes just as quick, where they were so close to kissing- it all brought down to this. The sorrow and pain but the love and affection that fought so hard to take over- 

“You would have heard me say ‘I love you’ in a way that doesnt feel like longing or mourning.” You said weakly, wrapping your fingers around his wrists. 

“Then why didn’t you say it before?” 

“Because I was scared… and blind,” You mumbled, “I wasn't able to see if you shared… these puzzling feelings for so long.” 

He looked at you deeply, taking in your words.

How stupid and blind he's been. 

The answer was right in front of him this whole time but he was too stubborn to even glance at it. All those feelings he has never felt before were always around you- the way his heart jumps when you laugh, or the way his body relaxes when you talk in that quiet, sleepy voice, or the way his ears perk up everytime he hears your voice. 

“Why did it take you to say goodbyes for me to realize I'm in love with you.” He whispered, watching your once gleaming eyes look at him with tired, scared eyes that were filled with tears. 

“I'm so sorry it has to be like this Sammy,” You whispered back, your eyes fluttering shut as you leaned in to place soft kisses over his face, “I’m so sorry.” 

Sam felt a rush of emotions when he felt your soft lips press on his skin, it was like a bittersweet torture, a gentle goodbye and apologies that hurt like fucking hell. He closed his eyes, relishing in that feeling of your touch, trying to engrave it in his memory. 

He couldn't hold back any longer. The need to feel you closer became overbearing, his emotions too much to handle anymore. He gently grabbed your hips, pulling you to sit on his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist soon after he pushed his lips against yours. 

He held you close, the taste of your lips were godsend. The way you fit so perfectly, like a puzzle piece, was a clear sign that you were his. You were his and no one else's. 

You were his to love, care, worship, cry, kiss, hug, touch, feel, hear, see- 

Despite all the pain, the despair he was feeling, he knew he could find comfort in this moment. 

For a moment, he could pretend everything was okay, that this was just another night together. 

He held you closer, as if trying to erase the space between the two of you, trying to savor everything. Your lips never part, too desperate to fix something, to fix anything that was left unheard or unspoken of- to fix all the lost time they could have had together. 

He deepened the kiss, wanting to get even more closer to you, to feel more than just touches and fast kisses; to keep the memory of you etched in his mind forever. 

His hands traveled up to your hair, gently running through the soft locks. He couldn't get enough of you, the feel of your body against his, the sweet addicting taste of your lips, the sound of your voice being muffled from his lips. The way you nipped at his bottom lip, inserting your tongue to slide along his made his head spin, soft groans escaping him as the rest of his body reacted violently towards your gentle touch. 

His hands started to wander, pushing under your shirt and gently running over the soft skin of your back, feeling the goosebumps that danced on your skin. He felt those delicious curves of your body, letting his mind go blank at the feeling. Sam didn't want this to end, knowing it's the last time he’ll be this close to you- paining him even more when realizing that this love will be shared for the first and last time. 

He loved the way you reacted to his touch, how it sent a jolt through his body, how every gasp and shiver made him want more of you. He needed more of you, he needed to feel every inch of you. He broke the kiss and started to trail kisses down your neck, his hands moving to tug at the hem of your shirt, silently asking permission.

His teeth sank the moment you tilted your head back while nodding, finding the sensitive skin addictive and tasteful, and sighed against your skin at the sound of your small groan. He pulled away for a moment to pull off your shirt, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, his body burning and aching with want. He couldn't believe he's finally getting the chance to see you like this, feeling you this close to him. He ran his hands over your smooth skin, each breath feeling heavier and heavier with every touch, his lips soon returning to your neck, kissing and nipping down your collarbone. 

You choked out a gasp, melting at every movement he made, the feeling of his large warm hands wandering wherever they liked, the sharp tug from his lips and teeth on your skin, his touch felt like fire on your skin and you never wanted to stop. 

He let out a low, guttural sound, your gasps and sighs only encouraged him to have his way with you. He wanted to take his time, feel you squirm on top of him, to worship every inch of you, to make you feel loved and wanted in this last moment together. 

You brought his face back up and pulled him in, your noses brushing against each other, heavy breaths twirling together, “I love you.” 

Sam searched your eyes, seeing the depth of your feelings in them. He kissed your lips once, looking at you with desperate eyes, 

“I love you.”  

Oh how that sounded like devotion and neediness. 

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AUTHORS NOTE: Aaaand the rest to your imagination :,)

I am not the biggest fan of part two since I felt like it was almost useless... but nonetheless it is written and soon will be forgotten (lolz)

Hugs and kisses to you all ♡

[vxmpdean]

I love procrastinating !

# I need to get out of bed

[vxmpdean]

“ SOULLESS FOR ME? “ PT. 2 will be out by tomorrow !!

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& Thank You for the likes on my past writings, it brings me joy that the ideas in my head are brought to life on a lil page and people enjoying it just as much :)

Be safe ! Drink water and don’t forget to eat - I just know you’re forgetting because we are fanfic addicts.. 🤭

[vxmpdean]

Soulless For Me? PT.1 

Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader 

AUTHORS NOTE: A long one so there will be two parts !! … I seriously need to get more sleep and stop listening to sad music so I can stop these sad story plots lololololol

{ Hey Alexa play I Can't Handle Change by Roar :,) }

WARNINGS: Angst, Emotional (?), Mentions of suicide and trauma, Mentions of death, Lots of dialogue oops ><

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It was a mess.

Everything was a mess but you had no choice. 

You had to breathe in and out and stare off into the distance to blink away your tears- God why can’t you just have a stupidly peaceful life? 

Your heart ached and ached and ached- it was the only thing your body knew what to do. 

You sold your soul. 

For Sam Winchester.

For Sam.

For Sammy. 

After the hunt went wrong- you saw the way life flickered on and off in Sam's eyes. His pained sounds and weak voice faded before he could finish his sentences… it scared the shit out of you and you couldn’t think straight. 

Dean was spiraling as well, panicking and drowning his troubles with all kinds of cocktails. His eyes heavy from the computer screen, the blue screen damaging his tired eyes the more he pushes through to find something- anything to help Sam. 

Bobby tried his hardest to keep his cool in front of them- treating them quietly and helping Sam with anything he needed. But his gaze was still sharp, taking in every detail and mistake in place and he himself was trying to find a solution. 

Nothing. 

And that wasn’t enough for you.

You needed Sam.

You needed him alive. 

Even if that means you have to hurt yourself in order for him to keep breathing, seeing, hearing, loving, feeling. 

The moment you stumbled back into Bobby's place; Bobby immediately knew what you did. He saw your tear-stained eyes. He caught the small box that was stuffed poorly in your puffer. It was like watching a baby deer try to find meaning to life after seeing its mother pass right then and there. 

This could end badly.

Hell- it will end badly. 

But Sam would be okay. He will heal and get to continue living his life with his brother and Bobby and the other hunters–

The door slammed open and you flinched at the loud bang, turning around to see a pissed off Sam and you could feel your stomach churn and twist into knots. 

Sam's eyes held so much anger, but his face weakened into guilt and disappointment and slowly closed the door behind him, taking slow, small steps towards you,

“Please.. Tell me you didn’t do it.. Please tell me I’m wrong and Bobby doesn’t know what he is talking about.” He strained out.

Hearing those strained words swirled all kinds of emotions in you, the tug in your chest was almost painful and you forced yourself to look at him, meeting his darkened eyes, 

“No,” You lie through your teeth as you shake your head, “No.. No, of course I didn’t.”

He looked at you with a serious face- he knows you’re a terrible liar. He hunted with you for two years now- he should know what it looked like when you lied. Or laugh, or grin, or brighten up. 

“Don’t lie to me. Don’t do that to me.” He said sternly, taking another step forward. 

You felt your mouth go dry and looked away, it was starting to become unbearable to look at his beautiful face that was filled with so much pain.

“I had no choice.” You croaked out quietly. 

Sam’s eyes widened hearing you say that. 

You confirmed it. 

You sold your soul for Sam.

Bobby wasn’t lying. 

You weren’t lying. 

He finally stood in front of you, gripping your shoulders tightly as he gave you a little shake, “You had no choice? Are you fucking kidding me right now?! You had plenty of choices!”

“No Sam I didn’t!” You choked, placing your hands over his chest as you looked up at him with teary eyes, “You were dead Sam! Bleeding out in my arms! I-” You stifled back a sob, covering your mouth with a hand and tried to pull away from him. 

Sam tried searching your eyes, trying to see what in the world you were thinking- what made you feel the need to save him like this, why would you do such a scary thing? 

“And Dean was devastated. He wouldn’t eat but drink his sorrows away- not even talk! He was mute and trying to force him to say something was a challenge itself. He just mourned as he looked over your body. I had no fucking choice Sam! There was no other option!” You shouted, rambling on as tears finally rolled down your cheeks. 

With every word you said, Sam’s heart was slowly shattering. He didn’t want to admit this, it wasn't fair. Not one bit. You were still so young, finally trying out hobbies you were too scared to do and reading all sorts of books because you had access to them…

He hated seeing you cry. 

It was like chips of his heat peeled away one by one as each tear escaped your shimmering eyes. 

“You did have another choice.. You did,” He said desperately, “But you decided to sell your soul!”

He paused, breathing out with a pained breath and his eyes softened, not stopping the tears that formed in his eyes, “How long?” 

“What?”

“How long god damn it,” He spat, his grip on you only tightened, “How much longer do you have?” 

“It doesn’t matter-” You dismissed before getting cut off. 

“It fucking does!” He shouted, his heart squeezing tightly when he felt you flinch away from his shout. 

A lump formed in your throat and you didn’t know what to say. Your thoughts spiraled and the weight on your shoulders weighed you down, everything felt like it was going in slow motion and every single word, every single action just seemed to go down the drain because in the end:

You are going to be gone. 

“One year,” You whispered, unable to bring your voice any higher, “One year and that's it.” 

Sam’s grasp loosened as he closed his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks silently and he dropped his head, holding himself back from crying out loud or lashing because he didn’t want to make the pain worse. 

One year. 

It repeated over and over again in his head. 

One year. Twelve months. Three hundred and sixty five days. 

One year. 

You watched as his face shifted from all sorts of emotional pain. The anger, the disappointment, the guilt, the shame, the fear. You wanted to reach out and wipe away his tears, whisper in his ears and hug him till his worries wash away. But it was no good. Not when the tension is this thick and so heartbreaking. 

“I would’ve lost both of you,” Your trembling voice replacing the tense silence, “ Dean would’ve killed himself. Then I would have to deal with two deaths… deaths I have to see first hand.”

You sniffled and shook your head weaky,” You boys need each other more than anything.” He was speechless. He has no answer for that, you were right… Sam and Dean have this deep, inexplicable connection that causes more problems than fix. He couldn’t imagine living without Dean… but he also can’t imagine living without you as well. 

“I know that… that's not the point!” He lets go of you as he wipes his tears away roughly, drawing out a heavy sigh that wants to escape, “I don’t want to lose you.” 

His weak statement made you want to sob right then and there. 

“You’re going to have to get over it.” You said, wincing at how harsh it sounded. 

Sam looked down, frustrated. He took another deep breath, trying to calm himself down, to not burst into tears. There was something you didn’t understand. He would never get over losing you…

“You don’t get it, I can’t lose you.” He muttered, sounding desperate as his hands twitched to grab you. To pull you in and hold you. 

“Sammy please.” You strained, “Just stop please.. Don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.” 

“How can I stop?” He clenched his jaw, almost growling in anger. 

Everything he wanted to tell you was stuck in his throat, “You’re going to die! How am I supposed to be okay with that..?” he said as a fresh tear slid down his cheek. 

You stepped closer, wiping away the running tear with your sleeve and croaked, “I’m not asking for you to feel okay about this. What I am asking is that you have to understand. Stop forcing yourself to not understand this.” 

He shivered, feeling your hand on his cheek. His eyes locked with yours and he could see the pain in them. But there was no hesitation. Yes there was fear, but only for the pain that you have to endure but other than that- it was like you were proud of your decision. You were sacrificing yourself for him… 

“I don’t want to understand. I don’t want to say goodbye to you. You’re going to leave me…” He muttered with a broken voice, unable to hold back his pain any longer. 

You had to close your eyes, forcing yourself to think about something other than his voice. Other than his face. Other than his emotions. Other than him. 

Other other other other other-

It was unbearable. His voice was so small, like a little kid who is filled with sadness and fear. When you look in his eyes, it was like looking at little Sammy, seeing his puppy eyes filled with tears. 

“Oh Sammy…” You mumbled before pulling him into a tight hug. 

Sam put his head in the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulled you even closer. He let out a shaky sigh, fighting back a fresh batch of tears that threatened to spill, but he lost the battle and let a few tears roll down his cheeks.

“Please don’t leave me.” He repeated in that same broken voice. 

Tears of your own fell as your heart shattered more than you thought it could. 

You stroked his hair, your fingers getting tangled in his brown messy hair. You stayed silent, not knowing what else to say to comfort him, because… you couldn’t. It was the harsh truth for the both of you. 

He buried his face in your shoulder once more, taking a deep breath in. He inhaled your scent, not wanting to forget about it even after you’re gone. As he held you tighter, his heart was hurting. He hated feeling this powerless, having no control over this situation… his only thought was that he would lose you. 

This is so unfair. 

You kissed his temple and pulled away slightly, cupping his face and wiped away those pained tears with your thumbs. You looked at him with a tender smile and hummed, “You’re going to be okay.” 

He closed his eyes and leaned at your touch. He held onto your hand, keeping it on his face as if he could keep you here forever, sharing this bittersweet moment. Once he opened his eyes, he saw your warm, familiar smile, and his heart skipped a beat. 

“How are you so calm about this? You’re the one who's going to… die in a couple of months.” 

“Because in the end…” You began with a whisper, leaning forward to press your forehead against his, “You and Dean are safe together. I was able to help you both.” 

He shivered once more when he felt your warmth, closing his eyes and hoped this could last forever. He felt his chest contract, it was breaking his heart how much you worried about them. He opened his eyes again and looked deep into yours. How were they so gentle yet so sad at the same time? 

“Is that what you’re thinking about? Our safety?” He asked, his voice cracking.

You kissed his forehead and nodded, still cupping his face, “When she told me that you would be brought back to life and that she’ll keep a close eye on you boys- my mind didn’t listen to the rest. I didn’t care that she gave me one year. I didn’t. The first thing I thought was ‘Sam and Dean are safe now.’” 

Sam tried to keep it together, but your words broke him even more and that tug of hopelessness felt stronger than ever. He never thought someone could care so much for him, for him and his brother. You would your soul, your entire life… for them. He swallowed a sob as he looked at you. You were too good, too kind to end up in hell… his voice was low and shaky, as he looked in your eyes, his eyes gently holding on your wrists, 

“You should care about yourself… please…” 

“Don’t worry about me Sammy.” You said gently, smiling weakly as a tear rolled down your cheek, “Just…just worry about staying alive.” 

He felt like all the air had been sucked out of his chest. You were telling him to not worry about you when in reality, you’re all he could think about. He wanted to tell, to argue, to tell you that it wasn’t easy, that he could never do what you’re asking. 

But in the end, it will just keep going in circles over and over again. 

“I know,” You mumbled, “I’m sorry.” 

“I am going back to my hometown… just… just to be back there since I haven’t been there in years.” 

There was a moment of short silence, the next words feeling heavier than it should, 

“And you and Dean will continue on the road.” 

That sounded so final, like this was the last time he’ll ever see you.

Because it was. 

He nodded softly, taking in the information. Even though every part of him wanted to tell you he doesn't want you to go away, he knew it was useless. He knew how stubborn you can be, no matter what he said, you were still going to leave. 

“W-When?” He croaked. 

“Tomorrow night.” 

Another deafening silence draped over the room. 

Sam had to force himself to breathe normally. 

One last day. 

He swallowed, trying to ignore the sharp pain in his chest and the swirling thoughts that formed in his head. He couldn’t stand the thought of practically losing you in twenty-four hours. He looked at you again and held your gaze, staring down at you. 

His eyes traced over your features. Your soft eyes, your cheeks that were flushed pink and stained from your dried tears. Savoring in this moment as more tears formed in his eyes once again. 

“This is really it, isn’t it?” 

You nibbled your bottom lip, nodded and sighed softly, “Yeah.” 

He wrapped his arms around you once more, keeping you closer than ever and mourned over everything. From the day he met you in that hunt, seeing you coated in dirt and blood, fighting with such ease and flexibility; to when you pranked Dean so badly that he grounded you for a week at your grown ass age and all Sam could do was laugh; to when you two spend those quiet nights together, looking up at the sky and had competitions on who can name the most constellations; to when he realized that he had feelings for you. You were dancing in the middle of the bar with a cowboy hat that was two times the size of your head with that gleam in your eyes, that lips curled in a sweet drunken smile- god how is he ever going to forget you? 

“Okay,” You whispered, patting his back, signaling him to let go,” I need to tell your brother and Bobby. I need to start packing soon.” 

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AUTHORS NOTE: Part 2 in the works right now ;3 !

[vxmpdean]

Nothing brings me more joy than seeing my friends finally watching Supernatural after MONTHS of convincing and sending me edits of Dean/Sam/Castiel

This is your sign to watch Supernatural 😏

( or rewatch it again !! Hehe >:) )