borderlineex

[borderlineex]

i just wanted to let you guys knows that my inbox is open rn !! i’m kinda stumped on what to write lol and i need to get rid of writers block which is slowly getting to me before i finish fault lines (which you can read here). any suggestions are welcome!!

[borderlineex]

shopping at victoria’s secret with sam (slightly suggestive)

Sam follows you inside the Victoria's Secret, looking a little out of place amongst the racks of bras, underwear, and frilly things. He clears his throat, glancing around curiously.

He shoves his hands into his pockets, standing awkwardly next to you and watching as you begin to go through the clothes on the racks.

He continues to watch you select different pieces of clothing before his gaze catches on a particular set of lace panties and bra, his eyebrow raising a bit as he glances away, a light dusting of pink appearing on his cheeks.

He clears his throat, trying to look casual as he glances back over at the piece of clothing, now a look of intrigue in his expression. He's quiet for a few moments, watching you as he ponders something, before he finally speaks up.

"That.. That would look pretty good on you.."

His cheeks grow darker at the realization that he actually said that out loud, quickly looking away as he shoves his hands back in his pockets, trying to act like it was a casual comment and not something that he'd actually considered.

He hesitates for a moment, shifting on his feet before he finally looks over at you again, his expression a mix of nerves and embarrassment.

He blushes, trying to keep his gaze from wandering back to the lingerie set on the mannequin. He shifts a bit, trying to look more casual as he stands next to you, his heart beating a bit faster at what he was currently thinking.

The air between them feels more heated with every look and comment. His gaze drifts back over to the mannequin and the lingerie set again, lingering on the outfit for a moment before he quickly averts his eyes, trying to find something else to focus on to distract himself from his.. distracting thoughts.

"I just mean.. the color would look nice on you.. and the cut of it. It would look.. really nice.."

"How about we try it out later, hm?"

You run your hand down Sam's arm as he shivers at your action, his heart rate speeding up instantly at the suggestive offer. His expression is suddenly more intense, his gaze dark as he looks at you.

"Yeah.. I'd.. really like that."

divider creds @bernardsbendystraws !!

[borderlineex]

𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡ ˚ the right side of my neck, still smells like you 𓂃⋆.˚

a/n : just a short lil imagine of boyfriend!sam cuddling girlfriend!reader! hope u enjoy c:

With you draped over his body, Sam lazily let his fingers brush through your hair. You always laid together like this after a hunt, a moment of comfort. Dean had returned by now, and the motel room was mostly quiet, with the exception of a low hum of the shitty air conditioning unit.

He lifted his head to look at you, his arm hooking around your middle to pull you closer against him, his chest warm against your side. A lazy hum passed his lips and he murmured, "You okay, sweetheart?"

Your eyes slowly fluttered open when he spoke, his hand stroking through your hair comfortingly. Being held by Sam was as familiar as comfort to you at this point. Though hearing him speak still made your heart skip a beat. The word sweetheart falling from his lips always made things feel a little too domestic.

You shifted to look at him, unable to help the ghost of a smile on their lips as they moved into his arms more, nuzzling into his chest. "Yeah," you answered quietly, your arm draping over his chest. "Just tired."

The way you nuzzled into his chest made him smile, his arms instinctively giving you a tight squeeze; it was almost a habit. The words so cute almost passed his lips, but he held his tongue.

Sam nodded in agreement, his head resting back against the crappy motel pillow, his fingers continuing the motion of playing with your hair. In this moment, things felt so normal and easy, but the words that always sat on the tip of his tongue threatened to spill out. He swallowed them in favor of saying, "But you're so stubborn, you won't get any rest until you're basically passed out." He scolded lightly, his tone almost teasing. "Can't even remember when you last got proper sleep, hm?"

[borderlineex]

imagine mechanic!sam (nsfw- no smut just suggestive) …

𓂃⋆.˚ imagine mechanic!sam who goes outside to wash his own car, but notices that you’re already there, wearing a ridiculously skimpy bikini at that, with soapy water running down your tanned skin, along with some denim micro shorts (with a very visible bulge forming in his pants) , “what did i do to deserve this view, huh?”

𓂃⋆.˚ imagine mechanic!sam who sees you biting your lip at the sight of his arms and previously white, tight wife beater smothered in black grease and oil, before chuckling darkly and slowly coming up to you, his large frame towering over you befoe he whispers hotly in your ear, “you know, sweetie, there’s something else i’d much rather you have a go at biting.”

𓂃⋆.˚ imagine mechanic!sam who has heavy drops of sweat dripping down his muscular arms and forehead, the salty scent of them hanging in the air, he runs his hand through his scruffy, uncut hair and looks you up and down, then smirks over at you “you’re looking real good baby, real good.”

𓂃⋆.˚ imagine mechanic!sam who comes up behind you, running his hands down both sides of your torso and groaning softly, “ ‘s all mine?” and letting his calloused, rough hands roam your figure.

[borderlineex]

Fault Lines

dean winchester x reader (part 2)

read part 1 here

cw and pairing : bittersweet :c 𓏲 earlyseasons!dean x hospitalised!reader 𓏲 fluff 𓏲 themes of injury, car accident, medical trauma, and memory loss

summary : Dean is devastated to realize you have no memory of him or the life you shared, but he hides his heartbreak behind gentle care and unwavering presence. Despite the pain, he finds a bittersweet comfort in reintroducing himself, clinging to the hope that you might fall for him all over again.

a/n : I've been working on this series for a while now, but I'll be slowly posting the parts (there will be a lot lol) and I find the idea of the reader who lost their memory and has to re-kindle with their bf sooo cute so I hope you guys enjoy part 2!! pls don't let it flop T-T (i did try to make this part longer since I wanted to leave part 1 in suspense)

"Who are you?"

His eyes widen momentarily, surprised that you're asking him that, but he quickly reigns in his shock and tries to collect himself. For a few moments, he's left dumbfounded but finds his words quickly.

"You don't... you don't remember me, sweetheart?" Dean asks hesitantly, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of worry and confusion.

"I'm sorry, I- I don't know you."

His heart sinks a little as you speak, and panic starts to rise up in his chest. The way you're looking at him - it's like you have no recollection at all. Dean swallows heavily, trying not to let the fear show.

"You... you seriously don't remember me? At all?!" he manages to say, his hand remaining on your chin.

You shake your head - his eyes never leave your face, searching yours desperately for even a hint of recognition, but he sees none.

"Damnit," he mumbles under his breath, running a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. This was much, much worse than he expected.

He looks at you intensely.

"How far back do you remember, then?"

"I-,"

He notices your hesitation, his green eyes narrowing slightly.

"Go ahead, sweetheart. Tell me." His tone is gentle yet insistent, the need to understand your memory loss driving him. His other hand finds yours, fingers intertwining instinctively. You touch your head in an attempt to examine what was going on, but wince in pain at the feeling.

"Hey, careful." Dean's free hand immediately moves to stop yours from touching the bandaged areas on your head. "You don't want to aggravate that."

He scoots a little closer, concern etched on his features. "How much does it hurt?"

Ignoring his question, you ask, "What happened?" while looking up at him with glassy eyes, which his gaze softens at. Damn he missed you.

His expression turns serious. "You were in a car accident," he answers bluntly. "You got hurt pretty bad."

He leans closer, his fingers still intertwined with yours while he gently strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. "What's the last thing you remember before waking up here?"

"If I'm being completely honest, I don't even remember being put in this place," you proceed to look around the room before locking eyes with Dean once again.

"Nothing?" His eyebrows furrow, and he's unable to hide the disbelief in his voice.

Dean exhales slowly, trying to keep his composure. This was far more serious than he'd thought. No memory whatsoever? He tries a different angle. "Do you remember your name at all, sweetheart?"

"Why do you keep calling me sweetheart?"

Dean blinks, taken aback by the question. He'd been subconsciously calling you that for so long it had become second nature. Aside from the fact that you had been dating for 3 years.

"I..." he starts, then pauses, clearly caught off guard. "Well, I... that's just what I usually call you," he explains awkwardly.

His grip on your hand tightens a bit as the weight of your lack of memory really hits him. He tries to keep it together, for your sake and his.

"Do you... even know who I am?"

You proceed to shake your head with a slight frown on your face, visibly affected by Dean's yearning manner.

He swallows hard, the weight of your words making his chest tight. You didn't remember your name, and worse, you had no idea who he was. It was like he was a complete stranger to you.

This was a nightmare.

"Right," he manages to say after a moment, his voice gruff. "So... let me try something."

Dean's eyes lock on yours intently. "How old are you?"

You open your mouth to speak before closing it again - the way you fall silent is like a punch to his gut. He'd been hoping that you at least would remember something as basic as your age, and the fact that you seem unable to even speak it leaves him sick with worry.

He tries to keep his voice soft, his fingers gently squeezing your hand. "Take your time. Just... try again."

"Twentyy...," your eyebrows furrow, clearly attempting to dig into the back of your mind to look for the answer. Finally, you give up and pretend like nothing happened. "Maybe you should answer my question first- who are you?"

Jesus Christ… The question hits him like a blow to the chest, and he can't help but clench his jaw in helplessness. Not only do you not remember him, but you also don't recall being together. This whole situation was worse than he thought.

"I'm… I'm your boyfriend, sweetheart," Dean finally speaks up, his voice gruff with suppressed emotion.

He notices your eyes soften - the shift in your gaze causes a fluttering feeling in his stomach, hope sparking that maybe, just maybe... you still recognize him in some way.

He leans even closer, his hand still tightly grasping yours. His expression is intense, almost desperate, as he searches your gaze for the smallest hint of recollection.

"Sweetheart...?" he prompts quietly.

"Hm?"

There it was again. That feeling of hope.

The way you tilt your head at him, your gaze softening... it was somewhat familiar to him.

"Say my name..." he says quietly, the words nearly a plea. Your eyebrows proceed to furrow in confusion as your head tilts slightly.

Damn it...

The furrow of your eyebrows only adds to the despair he feels. You were so close to remembering him, to the life you shared together, but it was like trying to grab smoke.

He lets out a frustrated breath, his grip involuntarily tightening a bit on your hand.

"Come on, sweetheart," he continues, his voice low and gruff. "Please just say my name.."

"I'm sorry- I really don't know-,"

Your soft apology only strengthens the growing desperation he feels. He lets out a sigh, his thumb still caressing the back of your hand in a comforting gesture.

"Don't apologize," he murmurs, shaking his head. "Not your fault."

A moment of quiet passes between you as he struggles with the wave of emotions crashing over him. He can feel his shoulders sag slightly as he leans closer, his voice almost a whisper.

"You really don't remember anything about me, huh?"

"I mean- you seem really sweet," you say in a friendly tone and giggle softly, "quite handsome too."

He can't help it; a small, weary smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Even in this messed-up situation, you could still manage to make him feel better with your words.

His thumb continues its gentle caress on the back of your hand, the small action almost becoming a grounding element for him.

"You think I'm handsome?" he asks, a touch of his usual confidence peeking through his weary demeanor.

"Mhmm." a warm, hearty laugh slips out.

That laugh. That laugh...

It was so familiar to him, and the sound of it causes his heart to clench in both affection and sorrow. You were here, physically with him now, yet so far out of reach because of the damn memory loss.

He swallows heavily, his gaze softening. "Damn it..." he mumbles under his breath, his fingers entwining more firmly with yours.

"Hm?"

God, this was so frustrating...

You were right there, talking to him, laughing, but you didn't even remember who he was. It was making him feel both relieved and utterly helpless at the same time.

"Nothing..." he mutters, shaking his head.

His free hand moves up to gently brush a loose strand of hair away from your face, his thumb lingering against your cheek for a moment. His touch is gentle, almost reverent.

And oh that smile. It's a punch to the gut, that simple smile of yours, and for a moment, he finds himself just... looking at you.

His fingers absently continue to brush against your cheek, tracing gently along your jawline.

He can't help but give a weary sigh as he keeps his gaze fixed on you, his voice gruff. "Damn, you have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart..."

"I'd love to get to know you again, you know."

Those words..

They make his heart ache, both with hope and sorrow, all at once. The idea of you wanting to get to know him again, even as a stranger, causes a mix of emotions to swirl within him.

He can't help but chuckle softly, a bittersweet smile on his face.

"Be careful what you wish for," he replies, his thumb still absentmindedly caressing your cheek. "I can be a damn pain in the ass, you know."

"It's like if we met for the first time... again."

A soft huff leaves him as he considers your words. Meeting for the first time... again.

It was both ironic and a little heartbreaking. You were a blank slate, no memory of the time you'd shared together... yet here you were, expressing curiosity and openness towards him.

He leans a little closer, his expression soft. "Yeah... in a way, it sorta is like meetin' for the first time. Again."

"I still need to know your name so…" you stick your hand out for him to shake, "I'm.. you have to help me out here", you say with a soft chuckle.

God, you were going to be the death of him.

The way you stick out your hand, asking for a damn handshake with that sweet laugh, was just... too much.

But he doesn't hesitate. He doesn't complain. He just takes your hand in his, his large, calloused palm enveloping yours completely.

"Your name is Y/N and mine's Dean," he says gruffly, giving your hand a firm yet gentle shake. "Dean Winchester."

"Well, it's nice to meet you Dean."

You were right. This was like meeting for the first time - the way your eyes sparkled, Dean felt like he was fully in a trance. He felt as though butterflies danced around in his stomach - just like on your first date.

It should be ridiculous. Hearing you say "nice to meet you" and knowing that you have absolutely no memory of him whatsoever, and all the time you'd spent together.

But damn it all, he can't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction from it.

He returns the sentiment, his voice gruff yet sincere. "Pleasure's all mine, sweetheart."

He holds on to your hand for a little longer than necessary, his thumb gently tracing over your knuckles before he reluctantly lets go.

His gaze remains fixed on you, watching for any flicker of recognition in your eyes, even though logically, he knows it's unlikely.

"There," he murmurs, a hint of a small smile on his face. "Now we're properly introduced, I guess."

There's a brief moment of comfortable silence between you two, just the soft sound of your uneven breathing and the steady hum of the medical equipment nearby.

Dean can't help but study your face, his gaze tracing the features he'd come to know so well - the slight furrowing of your brows, the curve of your lips, the way your hair drapes gently on your shoulders... even the small things like a freckle on your cheek he'd kissed a hundred times.

Yet he had to act like he was seeing them for the first time.

His mind is a maelstrom of thoughts and emotions. He's relieved you're alive and awake, but the fact that you've lost all memory of him... it's a constant ache in his chest. He wants to hold you, pull you close, shower you with affection, but what good would that do when you don't even remember him?

creds to @cursed-carmine and @anitalenia for the dividers !!

all likes and reblogs are appreciated!!

[borderlineex]

The Pain Before

soldier boy x reader

“I didn’t mean to hurt those people-”

“I’m not a bad guy”

Were the last words Ben said, thick with regret, before he began to weep in your arms softly. His warm, wet tears fell down onto your shirt. You could see the heartbreak in his eyes after he mentioned the war- guilt and regret clouding them.

“Ben-” you say sweetly, with your hand cupping his face and your thumb sweeping across his cheek gently. Ben's gaze lingered on you, as if searching for some sort of understanding, for someone who wouldn't recoil in disgust at the sight of him. There was a moment of silence as Ben's confession hung in the air, the weight of it nearly palpable. He continued with a slightly shaky voice, his gaze fixed on the ground.

"I-," you begin, before he cuts you off without realising. Ben's confession seemed to have opened a floodgate, as he continued to speak in a quiet, broken tone.

"The things I've done... The things I've had to do... I never wanted any of this. I just... I wanted to be a hero. To protect people, to make a difference..." He finally dared to look up at you, his eyes searching yours, perhaps for a glimmer of understanding, forgiveness, anything that could quell the torment within him.

"I know, baby. I know," you coo, running a hand through his chestnut brown locks.

Ben's rigid stance relaxed just a fraction as he heard the gentle sound of your voice. As your fingers threaded through his hair, he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch almost instinctively.

"You... You believe me?" He asked, the desperation in his voice palpable.

"Mhm- of course I do. None of it is your fault."

Ben's shoulders sagged slightly, relief and gratitude washing over him as your words sunk in. He reached up and laced his fingers through yours, holding your hand against his forehead as if it were a lifeline.

"God… I don't deserve you." He muttered quietly.

[borderlineex]

Fault Lines

dean winchester x reader (part 1)

read part 2 here

cw and pairing : bittersweet :c 𓏲 earlyseasons!dean x hospitalised!reader 𓏲 fluff 𓏲 themes of injury, car accident, medical trauma, and memory loss

summary : After causing the accident that put you in the hospital, Dean pushes past doctors just to sit by your side, guilt written in every breath he takes. But when you finally wake and ask, “Who are you?”—what’s more devastating: the crash or your lost memory?

a/n : hello lovelies! this is a new mini-series i've been working on- hope you enjoy reading part 1! mwah xo

"Let me see her," Dean nearly growls at the doctor trying to block his path to your hospital room.

He pushes past without hesitation, bursting in with a single-minded determination that might’ve been funny—if not for the oxygen cannula under his nose and the thin hospital gown hanging off his frame.

"Y/N, you okay?" he asks, voice low and rough, as he drops into the chair beside your bed.

A car accident—his fault. And now you were the one lying here, hurt. Dean worriedly waits for you to wake up.

"Y/N, babe, come on, girl." Dean gently brushes some loose hair away from your face, eyes tracing the bandages and scrapes on your forehead and arms.

His expression is hard, jaw clenching as his eyes dart around the room. Anxiously, he watches the monitor with your heart rate and breathing -- he's worried, and guilt gnaws deep in the pit of his stomach.

"Wake up, sweetheart." he pleads lowly.

Before he knows it, your eyelids flutter open - your eyes glassy.

He's instantly at attention as you wake, and a visible sigh of relief leaves him. Thank God.. he thinks to himself.

"Shhhh, easy," he murmurs, gently taking your chin in his hand to get you to look at him. His eyes search your gaze intently, looking for any sign of pain, confusion, or disorientation.

Your gaze runs around the room before your eyebrows furrow in confusion, Dean notices the gentle creases of your skin adorning your face.

"Who are you?"

creds to @cursed-carmine and @anitalenia for the dividers !!