#Sam Winchester x Brother!Reader

[supernaturalscribe67]

Lucky

Words: 4,699

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Dean/Sam Winchester x Trans!FTM!Winchester!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Mention of surgery, references to top surgery recovery, slight gore (maybe?), language (also, maybe?), loving and supportive family members, fluff

Summary: Top surgery was never something the reader thought was possible. With the help of Sam, he was able to make his dream come true, and his brothers are there for him to help while he's in recovery.

Request:

I would absolutely love Dean and Sam with a younger trans brother who just got top surgery and is in recovery? Just fluff of like helping him wash his hair or getting things for him and reassuring them? Love your content so much!! It so nice to see some more trans content in the supernatural fandom :)

@cometcreates

A/N: I am so sorry this took a little longer to get out than I planned - work has been extremely hectic and draining recently - but I hope you like it! Let me know what you think! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Much love!

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People define luck in many different ways. Some say luck is a dollar bill lying on the ground, some say it’s a passing grade once they get their tests back, and others say it’s their true love. (Y/N), however, would define his luck as waking up every morning in the Men of Letters bunker with his brothers. 

Years ago when he came out to his older brothers as transgender, although they were a little confused at first, they were fully supportive. They did everything in their power to make sure that their little brother was comfortable, not only in their home and out in public but in his skin as well. They purchased a binder for him, got him better clothing, adjusted rather quickly to his name and pronoun change, and got defensive - sometimes a little too much - whenever someone misgendered him. With all that they were doing for him, (Y/N) couldn’t imagine how luckier he could get. He already had an amazing support system, what else could he need? 

At the end of last year, Sam approached him and asked him if he had been wanting to get top surgery, something they had talked about once or twice, but never regularly. When (Y/N) showed his interest in getting the surgery, Sam told him that he had done some research about different places where he could potentially get the procedure done, as well as all the criteria that certain places needed for him to qualify. After they sat and talked for a while, they concluded that, with Sam’s assistance, they would get started on (Y/N)’s journey toward top surgery. 

The months following consisted of semi-monthly visits with a psychologist Sam found in Hays, KS - all of the medical professionals required a steady diagnosis of gender-dysphoria from a registered psychologist to be able to consider the patient for the operation - as well as reading up on the aftermath of the surgery and what was to be expected. Of course, (Y/N) knew he would get all of the information from his surgeon before it was done, but he wanted to make sure he was well-informed and nothing was left out of the consultation. 

The consultation went well, and, after waiting for an eternity in the examination room, the doctor finally came in and set up the date for the surgery. (Y/N) was over the moon, and he immediately began to count down the days. Sam and Dean helped him get all of the necessary items he needed for the surgery recovery; various snacks, scar care creams, a surgical binder, a mastectomy pillow, and an extremely cozy blanket that he had begged them to buy. Even after they had gotten everything on the list, occasionally, they would buy something they thought would be beneficial for the recovery period. 

Then, they waited. Day after day went by and (Y/N) found it difficult to focus on hunting rather than the anxiety and anticipation that bubbled within him, but his brothers kept him grounded in times of distress. They could tell just how excited he was, and they never wanted to dampen the mood by turning his focus back on the job. They wanted him to keep that enthusiasm even after he had the surgery. When the day of the surgery came, they didn’t even try to calm his excitement. Just seeing how happy he was made them feel the same. 

The surgery went well. The recovery was going to be the hard part. The doctor made sure to prescribe him pain medication, which the brothers had picked up before they left the surgical center to head back to the bunker, and gave him a pamphlet describing all of his recovery needs in grave detail. Of course, they had already been well-prepared for the occasion, but it was nice to have it on hand. (Y/N) stayed in the hospital under observation for two days until he was finally released, clad in nothing but a pair of shorts, some slides, his surgical binder, the drainage tubes and bulbs connected to each incision underneath the binder, and one of Sam’s flannels that rested against his shoulders, keeping the front open to allow his chest to breathe. After he was wheeled and loaded into the back of the car, the three brothers made the drive back home. 

By the time the Impala edged its way into the well-lit garage, the sun had gone down, and the night sky was littered with stars. It wasn’t a long way to Lebanon from Kansas City, about five hours depending on traffic, but the trip wasn’t entirely painless. (Y/N) was thankful for the medications he was given after his surgery, but the bumpy backroads in Kansas were ruthless and did little to provide a comfortable drive home. He initially tried to sleep through the journey, but every pothole they hit - accompanied by an apology from his oldest brother - sent another wave of discomfort coursing through his chest. He had never felt more joy in his entire life than when he saw the familiar dirt road as he and his brothers got closer to the bunker. 

Dean parked the car and killed the engine. He turned, arm draped over the back of the front seat. “You feeling okay?” He asked. 

(Y/N) glanced over at him and gave a small nod. He adjusted himself and winced as the pain shot through his arms and chest. “Just sore, hurts like hell. When am I due for my next round of meds, Sammy?” He turned to his older brother in the passenger’s seat. 

Sam looked back at him for a moment and then down at his phone screen. “You should be able to take some more now. Why don’t we get you inside and into your bed first? That way we can get you something to eat and drink with your medicine.” 

“No food,” (Y/N) groaned. “I don’t feel like eating now.” 

“You have to eat something.” 

“Fine, I’ll eat some crackers, or something small, or one of those snack cakes I got, but I really can’t eat anything filling right now. I’ll eat some more in the morning when I’m feeling better.” 

“Alright,” 

“Now, can someone let me out? These doors are surprisingly heavy.” 

“Yeah!” Dean said, quick to jump out of the car and head towards the back passenger’s side. He opened the door and held out a hand. 

(Y/N) smiled weakly as he reached over and grabbed Dean’s hand. He was slow to move out of the seat and plant his feet on the ground. When he stood, his legs shook, but he let out a sigh of relief. His legs were weak. The recovery had consisted of laying in his hospital bed and, occasionally, getting up and taking a few steps inside his room, just to keep the blood flowing in his legs. With the lack of energy he had and the five-hour ride back, his legs felt completely numb, as if they were made of Jell-O. 

Dean held (Y/N)’s hand tightly while his opposite arm wrapped around his waist. He moved him away from the car and shut the door. The two of them made their way to the bunker door. Sam jumped out of the car and caught up with them as they walked inside. When they were greeted with the metal stairs that landed in the War Room, (Y/N) stopped. He let out a sigh of defeat. 

“This is going to hurt like Hell,” he mumbled. He reached a shaky arm over and grasped the railing until his knuckles paled. 

“We’ll take it slow,” Dean nodded softly. 

(Y/N) returned the nod and they began to walk down the stairs, one step at a time. The entire time they walked, Dean held onto him tightly, both of their eyes cast down towards the steps. Each step, despite the snail’s pace they walked at, made a jolt of pain shoot through (Y/N)’s back. A pained expression crossed his face multiple times as he pressed his lips together tightly. 

Finally, they reached the bottom of the stairs and another contempt sigh left (Y/N)’s lips. Sam brushed past them. 

“I’m going to grab your crackers and water and meet you in your room, okay?” He placed a gentle hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. 

“Sounds good,” (Y/N) flashed a thumbs-up towards him before Sam walked down the hallway, toward the kitchen. 

(Y/N) was a little quicker when they walked through the halls, and he was thankful when they reached his room. He wasted no time parting himself from his brother and making his way over to his bed. Despite his shaky legs, he held himself up well. He turned on the lamp on his nightstand, illuminating the room with a faint yellow glow. 

His bed was neatly made with multiple pillows resting at the head - the doctor recommended that he slept elevated for the first week or so and then slept on his back for several months afterward. It would be an adjustment, but (Y/N) knew that he could get used to it. 

He climbed into his bed, careful of the collection bags on his chest, and crawled underneath the layers of blankets. Instantly, he relaxed into the plush mattress, head resting on the stack of pillows behind him. Dean waltzed deeper into the room, eyeing him carefully. 

“You okay?” He asked. 

“Better now that I’m in bed,” (Y/N) looked over at him. “Although it just feels like I’m in another hospital room.” 

“At least you won’t be eating any more hospital food,” 

(Y/N) grimaced. “Don’t remind me of that, I’ll throw up.” 

Sam entered the room, a bottle of water in one hand, the white bag with (Y/N)’s prescription narcotics tucked under his arm, and a small sleeve of saltines in the other. He set the water bottle and saltines down on the bedside table and opened the bag. He took out the orange pill bottle and fished out an oval-shaped white capsule. He handed it to (Y/N), who took it gratefully. He popped the pill into his mouth and drank some water to wash it down. 

“You should probably empty those soon,” Sam said, gesturing towards the bags that rested against (Y/N)’s stomach. 

(Y/N) glanced down at them and shook his head. “The doctor said every twelve hours should be good. They changed them right before I left the hospital, so they should be fine for right now.” 

“Alright, if you say so,” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you need anything? TV? Books? Some snacks?”

“I’m good, thanks. I think I’m going to catch some shuteye for a bit. That car ride took all the energy out of me.” 

Sam nodded and turned to walk towards the door. “If you need anything, let us know.” 

“I will, don’t worry.” 

“Seriously,” Dean piped up. “If you need anything, even if it’s small, just holler or shoot us a text.” 

(Y/N) couldn’t help but chuckle. The overprotective nature of his brothers was something that never changed. “I promise I’ll call if I need anything.” 

Dean and Sam both gave him a small smile before they turned and left the room, closing the door behind them. (Y/N) marveled in the silence. No nurses walking outside of his room, no snoring from his brothers on the pull-out beds, no heart monitors beeping constantly. It was peaceful. He reached over and turned off the lamp light, flooding the room, once again, with darkness. The darkness was something he missed. He would never take his pitch-black room for granted ever again. 

He awoke six hours later, around the time when the medication began to wear off and the pain resurfaced. He had tried to reach over to the nightstand and grab the pill bottle, but his arms were too stiff. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, a grunt falling from his lips. The pain wasn’t as bad as it had been the day after surgery, it was mostly the sore tenderness he felt in his chest and back that bothered him. When his feet touched the floor, he was able to lean over and grab the pill bottle with ease. He uncapped it, took out another capsule, and popped it into his mouth, followed by a drink of water. The medication would start working in twenty minutes or so. 

The ache wasn’t only in his chest and back, however. As he downed the water, he felt it fall into his stomach. A gurgle sounded from his gut and he placed a hand over it. He probably shouldn’t have taken the medication on an empty stomach. He needed some food. For a moment, he considered the saltines on the bedside table but quickly tossed out the idea. They didn’t sound as appetizing as they had before he went to sleep, and even then he had only accepted them to make his brother feel better. He wanted some real food. He wanted some of the snack cakes that he got for the occasion. The real question was; could he get up and walk to the kitchen by himself without bothering his brothers? It was still early, so they were most likely asleep. They had been with him the entire time he was in the hospital, and he wanted to make sure that they got the sleep they deserved. 

(Y/N) placed his hands on his knees and let in a deep breath, his eyes falling closed for a second. With a quick exhale, he hoisted himself off of the bed. His legs quivered, and he had to reach back towards the bed to steady himself. After he stood for a couple of minutes, the blood seemed to flow back through his legs. They were unsteady, but less than they had been before. He shuffled his way towards his door and opened it, glancing up and down the hallways. He then made his way towards the kitchen. The sound of his stomach growling echoed throughout the corridor. 

“Damn, I’m getting you food, calm down,” (Y/N) mumbled to himself. 

It took a lot longer for him to get to the kitchen than it had taken to get to his room the night before. He was slow, uncomfortably so, and he hated it. He felt like an old man. At least I’m an old man without tits, he thought. 

When he got into the kitchen, he walked over to the pantry shelves and glanced up. Sat on the second highest shelf were the cupcakes that he had been craving. Those delicate, chocolatey, packaged goodies. They were teasing him with the pictures on the front of the box. He wanted one so bad, and he couldn’t even reach them. He could barely lift his arms enough to reach the shelf directly in front of him. He tried to scour the shelf in front of him for something that sounded at least a little bit appetizing, but nothing made his mouth water as much as the soft, chocolate cakes near the top of the pantry. 

Curse you, Hostess. 

Just as he was about to give up and pick something from a more accessible shelf, the sound of padded footsteps echoed down the hallway. (Y/N) turned his head towards the door as Sam entered. Sam furrowed his brows. 

“Hey, what’re you doing up?” 

“Oh, the pain medicine wore off, so I took another one. Plus I’m starving,” he then turned his gaze back to the cupcakes. 

“Do you want me to make you something for breakfast? I can make scrambled eggs.” 

“Sure,” (Y/N) shrugged. “But…I really…want a cupcake.” 

“For breakfast?” 

(Y/N) looked back at Sam. His bottom lip was pushed out in a small, child-like pout. His eyes were big and his brows were tilted up slightly. It was his own signature puppy-dog eyes. Sam’s puppy-dog eyes were good, but (Y/N)’s was better. Those eyes were the reason behind him getting to pick a place to eat or what movie they watched most of the time. 

Sam sighed as he walked over, grabbed the box of cupcakes, and ripped it open. He took out a package and handed it to (Y/N). (Y/N) beamed and ripped the plastic open. He took a big bite of the cupcake and hummed happily. 

“Ok, you have your cupcake, but I’m still going to make you some scrambled eggs. You need to have some real food in you.” 

“Cupcakes are real food, Samuel. Maybe you’d be happier if you ate one once in a while.” 

“And maybe you’d be happier if you ate healthier.” 

(Y/N) stuck his tongue out at Sam. Sam rolled his eyes and smirked before he walked over to the fridge. Meanwhile, (Y/N) trudged over to the table and sat down. 

“You should probably change your bags soon,” Sam said. 

(Y/N) glanced down at the bags and noticed that they were halfway full. He cursed under his breath. “Let me enjoy my cupcake and then I’ll empty them.” 

“Do you need help?” 

“Nah, I got it, thanks, though.” 

Sam smiled and nodded. Without hesitation, (Y/N) shoved the rest of the cupcake in his mouth, a hum of pleasure emitting from his throat. Sam grimaced and turned away. (Y/N) glanced over at him. 

“Don’t judge me,” he mumbled with a mouthful of food before he stood up and made his way to the bathroom to drain his bulbs.

Three days had passed, and (Y/N) had already started feeling better. His movement had increased, the pain was starting to diminish, and the fluid that filled the bulbs slowed. His mental health had noticeably improved and every time he looked in the mirror, admiring his newly sculpted chest, the smile would never fail to stick to his face for hours on end. One thing that he didn’t like about the recovery process though, something that stayed a consistent issue, was the lack of personal hygiene. 

When his doctor told him that he wouldn’t be able to shower for a while after the procedure, he didn’t think that it would affect him as much as it was. Granted, he still took whore baths, using a damp washcloth and some soap to clean his body off the best that he could, but he could still feel the grime that coated his skin. Specifically, his hair was what bothered him the most. It was wet with grease to the point where it could stand up without any assistance from haircare products. (Y/N) felt disgusting. He needed to get his hair clean, quickly, and he couldn’t do it by himself. If he leaned over too much, the strain on his chest would cause the pain to flair up. He needed help. Sam had been busy researching and assisting other hunters who had called while the brothers were on a break from hunting themselves, so (Y/N) went to the next best person.  

(Y/N) knocked on Dean’s door rhythmically. A faint ‘come in’ sounded from inside. He opened the door to see his brother on his bed, lying on his stomach, eyes glued to the television screen in front of him. 

“Hey,” Dean said with a smile. “How’re you doing, kiddo?” 

“Pretty good. The pain’s not as bad today. I was wondering if you could help me with something, though.” 

“Sure,” Dean reached over, grabbed the remote, and turned off the television. He shifted himself so that he was sitting down on the edge of the bed. “What do you need?” 

“Can you wash my hair for me?” 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to shower yet.” 

“I can’t get my chest wet, but I can clean the rest of my body. I’ve been taking whore baths for the past couple of days, but I haven’t been able to get my hair cleaned. Could you help me with that?” 

Dean hummed and pursed his lips. “Yeah,” he said as he stood up. “Meet me in the bathroom, I’ll be in there in a bit.” 

(Y/N) didn’t wait in the bathroom for long before Dean rounded the corner, a chair dragging behind him. He placed the chair in front of the sink and gestured to it. 

“Sit,” he said. 

(Y/N) awed. “It’s like a trashy hair salon.” 

Dean rolled his eyes and chuckled. He grabbed the shampoo and conditioner from the bathroom cabinet as (Y/N) sat down in the chair. He leaned his head back so that it rested against the cool basin. Dean walked over to the sink and glanced down at his head. He grimaced. 

“Damn, kid, you definitely need to wash that hair.” he reached down and touched a lock of his hair, wincing as he pulled his hand back, studying the sheen that the hair left on his fingers. “Ew.” 

“Thanks,” (Y/N) deadpanned. 

Dean smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you all cleaned up.” 

Dean turned on the hot water, the spout shooting out the liquid into the sink. Dean began to run his fingers through (Y/N)’s hair. (Y/N) instinctively closed his eyes. Dean wet his hair, pouring the water over the locks with his cupped hands. 

(Y/N) could remember the last time he went to the hair salon. He was young, around the age of six, and Bobby had taken him to get his hair done. Even though Bobby seemed uncomfortable the entire time he was there, he wanted to make sure that (Y/N) had a somewhat normal childhood experience. (Y/N) was ecstatic, and enjoyed every minute of the haircut. His favorite part, however, was when the stylist was washing his hair. It was something about the way her fingers caressed his scalp, massaging the product into the roots of his hair, that brought an overwhelming sense of bliss. Dean’s fingers weren’t as gentle and soft as the stylist’s, but he sure knew how to give a good head massage. 

Two fingers gently tapped against the side of (Y/N)’s head. He opened his eyes and looked up at his brother. He hummed in acknowledgment. 

“I said ‘Do you like it’?” Dean repeated, a smirk curled into the corner of his lips. 

(Y/N) slowly nodded. The suds dripped down from the side of his head and caressed the outside of his ear. “Feels nice. You should have gone to cosmetology school.” 

Dean laughed. “I meant your chest. How do you…feel now?” 

“Oh,” (Y/N) let out a short laugh. “Honestly, I feel great. I don’t have to bind anymore, which means I won’t have to worry about hunts and catching my breath. I no longer have to worry about if clothes will fit me because of my chest. I don’t look in the mirror and hate what I see…” his voice trailed. “I look in the mirror and I see me. The me that I was supposed to be.” 

The two of them were silent for a while as Dean poured water over his hair, washing out the soap. His fingers caressed the back of (Y/N)’s scalp, watching intensely as the conditioner ran down the drain. 

“You know, if it makes you feel any better, Sammy and I always saw you as our little brother. I mean, you never really did all that girly crap - makeup, playing with dolls, stuff like that. You were always interested in playing with the mud. The amount of times that you would get in trouble with Bobby because you would bring mudpies into his house, or whenever you would track mud inside when it was raining. He got so pissed,” he chuckled, and (Y/N) joined him. 

“But then you got older,” he continued. “And it started to seem like you weren’t really my brother. But…something wasn’t right. I knew something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Calling you my sister felt wrong. I started calling you my little brother again whenever I told people about you, and then it felt right. When you told us you were transgender, it all made sense to me. It clicked. You never really were my little sister. You were my little brother, just with a few extra parts. Now that you got your surgery, I can see just how happy you are. How comfortable you are, and that means more to me than anything else.” 

The conditioner was gone. (Y/N)’s freshly washed hair laid against the basin. Dean reached over to the cabinet and grabbed out a small hand towel. He ruffled the towel against (Y/N)’s damp hair, making sure to get all of the water off of the side of his face and his ears. When his face was dry, he helped him sit up. 

“And me seeing you like this, I have never felt more proud of you,” Dean concluded. 

(Y/N) glanced up at Dean, brows raised. His wet hair dripped onto his naked shoulder. “Really?” He asked in a quiet voice. 

Dean smiled softly. “Yeah. I’m proud that you told Sam and me how you felt. I’m proud that you got the courage to go through with the surgery, and,” Dean knelt in front of the chair. “I’m proud to call you my baby brother.” 

A lump had formed in (Y/N)’s throat. His eyes glimmered with tears that pooled in their corners. Without saying anything, (Y/N) reached forward and wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, pulling him into a loose embrace. Dean placed his hands on (Y/N)’s back and smiled into the hug. 

“I owe you and Sam so much,” (Y/N) spoke softly. “You guys take such good care of me.” 

“You don’t owe us anything. That’s just what big brothers are supposed to do.” 

“Not even if I bake you a pie?” 

“Now, if you decide to bake a pie, I won’t turn it down,” Dean pulled away and held his hands up. 

(Y/N) sniffled and wiped the tears away. “I should make Sammy one of those fancy salads he likes.” 

“Oh, he’ll go crazy for that,” Dean mumbled. “Him and his damn rabbit food.” 

“You go crazy for pie, though.” 

“Yeah, but pie is good. Actually good.” 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes, causing Dean to chuckle. Dean stood up and brushed his jeans off, stretching his arms above his head. 

“What do you say we get Sammy and go watch a movie?” Dean asked. 

(Y/N) smiled. “I’d like that.” 

“Great! You go get Sammy and I’ll get the snacks.” 

Dean turned and jogged out of the room. (Y/N) stood and tilted his neck from side to side, noting the small strain in his muscles. (Y/N) grabbed the back of the chair he had been sitting in, but stopped as he saw himself in the reflection of the small mirror. His eyes scraped over his body, from his head down to his exposed hips. He shifted so that he could see his torso from the side.

It was almost as if he was in a dream. Like, at any moment, he would blink and wake up in his bed with his breasts still attached to his chest. For years, he had been wanting to get top surgery, but it never seemed like something he was able to achieve. Never in his wildest imagination did he see himself standing in front of a mirror and feeling proud of the body that he stood in. He no longer saw the body of a woman, the man he was trapped inside and desperately attempting to claw his way out. He saw a man, who he truly was, the real (Y/N) Winchester. 

And as he stared at his chest, a smile appearing on his lips, the words Dean spoke echoed in his head;

I’m proud to call you my baby brother.

Now, (Y/N) Winchester could confidently say that he was the luckiest man alive.

[staplegrapes]

Restore (Winchester Brothers x Platonic!Reader)

Description: The Winchesters finally get you (their found family younger sibling and resident lore expert) back from the BMOL after you had been kidnapped and tortured for days. As relieved as you are to be safe, your mental and physical recovery are far from over.

Words: 2.6K

TW: Mentions of canon-typical violence, specifically torture. No graphic depictions of it. Accepting vulnerability, because that can be scary in itself.

✨Gender Neutral Reader✨

You weren’t proud of the tears streaming down your face as Sam and Dean ran towards you. You couldn't help it. You had never been so relieved in your life. Stumbling towards them, fate had timed it perfectly for your body finally give up. You can still feel the relief initiate your collapse as you saw the brothers, the closest thing you had to family. Before your knee even hit the ground you felt an arm brace your fall as you lost consciousness.

Memories of the drive home come in waves. You would wake up and feel Sam's hand on your head as it rested on his lap in the backseat of the Impala. You can't recall anything he would say, but whatever it was, it was soothing and coaxed you back to sleep. You had no visual on Dean, but the fact the car was silent and no sound of classic rock in the background told you he was either angry or worried, maybe a bit of both.

Arriving at the bunker, Dean remained silent as he helped Sam pull you up and out of the Impala.

The bunker door slammed shut behind Dean as Sam carried you in. There was a tension of rage, relief and agony in the air. They had you back, but why were you taken in the first place? Monsters were one thing, but humans were another. Weren’t the Men of Letter supposed to all be on the same side? How could humans justify torturing someone so young and blameless. Sure, you had done your part in the research portion of hunting for years, but you had never done the slightest thing to directly aggravate the British Men of Letters.

The Winchesters were your brothers, your protectors, not by blood, but by choice. You were dealt a bad hand of cards as a kid, the Winchesters saw that and shoved themselves in the mix. Now they began to feel responsible for your current state. The only thing you could have done would have been to be their associate, their family.

You clung to Sam, hard. It hurt, but you knew he was safe, and you had that to hold onto. Sam and Dean weren’t saying much. They still couldn’t see all the damage that had been caused. What Sam could feel was the agony of each step as you groaned into his shoulder. It hurt him to hear your cries. The consistency of the pain burned all of your energy. It was an odd state of being too tired to stay awake but also too pained to rest.

Placing you on one of the infirmary beds Sam noticed your trance like state, just blankly staring at a wall with no reaction. You didn't notice of course. Your vision had become narrow, and your hearing turned fuzzy. You knew you were physically safe, but just the thought of speaking seemed like too much. Mentally you were still in nearly as much pain before, speaking would only add to that. You heard the words you would normally say in your head, but subconsciously had no desire to make them known.

“Are you ok?” Sam speaks just loud enough for you to hear him over the white noise in your ears.

You shrug.

“I know it may feel safer not to talk, and you can do that, but just know it’s ok.” Sam whispered kissing your knuckles as he squeezed your hand. You hear Dean walk in the door silently. Him and this silent thing was starting to wig you out. Somehow in your panicked haze, you knew the other shoe would drop with Dean, it was only a matter of time.

You just stare blankly at the wall.

Many consider the ordeal to be over once they’re back safe, but for you there was still a long road ahead. For your sake, the brothers tended to your injuries in spurts and simultaneously, that way it was manageable and quicker. If in your right mind you would have cracked a joke about the two doting over you, but you couldn’t muster it, not in this state. And even if you could’ve, them “babying” you is exactly what you needed. Still, after all the cleaning, stitching and bandaging you were even more exhausted. You had no idea how banged up you were, but you're sure Sam tallied it up on a mental note. The rope burns on your wrist were left for last. Dean just stared at one of your wrists, antibacterial wipe in hand, looking over the damage to the skin on your wrist. It wasn't till Sam said something, that he actually started to clean it.

Just as soon as they're done and you’re in fresh clothes, Dean picks you up and leaves Sam behind to clean up. You notice how tight he holds you, probably not even thinking if it hurts you at all. It’s rare when Dean is the one to pick someone up. Sam seems to do it most of the time. The time you sprained your ankle on a ladder in the library, Sam was the one who piggybacked you out of the Bunker and to the ER. Anytime you’ve fallen asleep on the couch after a movie it was Sam who carried you (that you knew of). You’d never been held by Dean. This whole strong silent type with Dean just tells you this is serious and he’s pissed. Before any real damage can be done by his firm grip, he is lowering you down onto your bed. Helping you settle in, he makes sure you have everything you could possibly need on your nightstand. Ibuprofen, water, your phone, granola bar, damp washcloth seemed to cover all the bases. Looking around he did a once over of the room to just assure himself you’re safe. You saw the uneasiness in his eyes. He stands there for a moment, just looking at you. His expression is a mixed one. You watch the emotions visibly wrestle on his face as he opts for a empathetic one.

“You’re safe. Ok? Nobody is gonna get you here.” It sounds like he’s reassuring himself just as much as you. You nod. “You want me to stay?” He questions and you shake your head. You can feel it is only a matter of time before you lose your grip and start crying and you rather him not see that. He accepts your response with a ruffle of your hair before heading out of the room and turning the lights off. With the shadow of him in the doorway he turns back to you one last time.

“Just take it easy kid, holler if you need anything."

And like that, you’re alone with your thoughts.

There was a lot to worry about right now, as per usual with the Winchesters. But you wouldn’t have guessed it from how the boys gave you all their attention. Right now, in the bunker, you were the only thing that mattered and you knew it to some degree.

You knew the scene in the war room right now. It was both brothers sitting there anxiously trying to find something to distract themselves with, but not succeeding. Healing wasn’t something that ever came as quickly as they would like, and they knew that, but they hated it.

The aches in your body refocused your attention to yourself. Feeling the warmth of your bed and your body finally relaxing for the first time in days, you can’t help the sob that escapes your throat. The relief of finally being rescued is setting in. You start to tremble. Shaking and crying, smothering your sobs with the pillow, you eventually find yourself asleep, truly exhausted.

You wake up to a startling bang in the bunker. Heart racing you instantly think back to being tied to that chair. Yet the soft sheets and the warmth remind you that was over. Suddenly a voice echoes through the halls, Dean’s voice, Dean’s yelling voice. This was the other shoe dropping. Dean Winchester can’t keep the silent & stoic act up for long. You feel like its actually sorta good that he’s angry, means he’s actually dealing with his emotions, not a Winchester specialty. Still, it doesn’t stop you from jumping when the bunker door slams. Muffled voices make quick remarks at one another, you know these voices to be Sam and Dean's. Odd, why did the door slam if they're both still here?

The day drags on uneventfully. The boys continue to give you space. At least you think they do. It's hard to keep up with your surroundings as you float between fitful sleep and achy consciousness. Your only method of processing time is when one of the brothers comes to give you pain-relievers every few hours to help with the aching.

You don’t know how long you had been crying when Dean walked in your room later. The pain and exhaustion must’ve just ganged up on you and took over. What little of your face was outside the covers must’ve looked absolutely pathetic because Dean was instantly at your side digging you out from underneath your pile of blankets. “Aw, kid. C’mere.” He pulled you up into his arms as he sat down on the bed next to you. The feeling of his worn flannel was comforting, it was much more relaxing than the salty damp pillow you had been crying into. The two of you just sat there as you sniffled, hiding your face in the crook between his shoulder and neck. Still not talking, you let Dean calm you down and rock you back to sleep. Arguably a “chick flick moment” neither one of you seemed to mind. Well after you fell back asleep Dean stayed with you and just listened to you breathe. He and Sam had you back, he had to remind himself of that.

Your door opened later and Sam walked in with a bowl of your favorite soup and a mug of tea. “How you feeling?” He tilts his head with a smile, trying to get a word out of you.

“Okay, j-just sore.” You whisper, breaking your silence. Your voice sounding hollow as you try to clear your throat. Sitting up in the bed, you attempt yo appear less ailed.

“Let me grab you some more ibuprofen.” He shuffled to place the soup and tea down on the bedside table next to you. He passes Dean as the older emerges from the hallway.

“Hey Kiddo,” Dean whispered as you sat there waiting for Sam to come back. “H-hi.” It’s silent for a bit, neither of you are likely sure of what to say. you feel like it’s a given, but you decide to say exactly what you were thinking.

“Thanks for coming to get me.” To which Dean shakes his head in disbelief.

“Shut up. We’ll always come a get you.” He says as he presses a kiss to your hair and pulls up a chair next to your bedside.

“I hate to ask kid, but did they say anything that could be useful to know?”

“T-they said they wouldn’t kill me. I meant too much to you. They needed to send a message. To which I replied, well you’re busting up the envelope and got the black eye.”

“Atta kid.” You don't miss his proud smirk.

Sam returns with the medication as you take it quickly, to which Sam urges you to eat the soup to help your body accept the medication. You take a few bites, each of which is wonderful, yet somehow underwhelming.

“Is that making it any better?” Sam asks.

“Eh” you shrug. Both brothers give you a look of concern. You're wondering if you're about to get scolded for something or told some terrible news. Before your mind can reach the worst conclusions, Dean speaks up.

“Look kid, you don’t have anything too serious. Mostly bruises and gashes, but your shoulder looks like it’s gonna need some time. And you’re just exhausted kid. It’s hard being on edge like that. Being…” he clears his throat, not able to continue, but you knew what he meant. But before he could feel too much he cut himself off.

“Sam and I are doing the work here. We’re gonna keep you fed and hydrated and your only job is to rest and let us take care of you for once. You’ll get your strength back, just don’t rush it.”

You nod easing back into bed.

“What about the Bri-”

“We’ll deal with them. You can get your chance to rough one up if you want it later. You just get better.” Dean nods as he heads out of the room. Sam is about to follow suit when you grab his wrist. He looks down at you worried, but you wait until Dean is out of earshot before continuing.

“What was he yelling about before?”

Sam winces as he sits back down on your bed. “He was yelling about you and how they got to you.”

“That’s not your fault.” You reach for his arm.

“He wasn’t yelling at me.”

You sit up confused.

“He was yelling at our mom. She came to check on you.

“How did she know?”

“Exactly.” He sighs, “Didn’t take us too long to guess how they found you.”

Now you and Mary had a weird relationship. When she returned with Dean she looked at you with a weird look and that seemed to set the tone for your relationship. Any time she was around, she made you feel like you didn’t belong there at the bunker. Those were her boys, her family, and you weren’t a part of that family. Not to say she treated you badly, just different. She always seemed to be friendly, but when she thought you weren’t looking she always gave you a questioning look. But to give you up like that? Was she really that cold?

“She says it wasn’t intentional, but Dean wasn’t buying it."

You’re not sure if you believe it was intentional as Dean does, but you’re suprised how quickly Dean defended you.

“What do you think?” You ask.

He runs a hand through his hair, a sign he’s conflicted. “I don’t know what to believe. But regardless Dean made it clear she’s not welcomed here.”

“But what if it wasn’t her?”

“Either way I think both Dean and I think it’s safer to keep her at arm’s length.”

You’re about to respond when he speaks up, seemingly reading your mind. “No matter who she is, she’s picked a side.”

You nod. He goes to leave. There’s not much else to say. All you had to do now was recover, both physically and mentally.

Today’s the day, you can feel it. You stretch out, shaking away any stiff muscles. You’re still healing, but it’s time to gradually head towards normal. Fully dressed and showered, you open your own door for the first time in awhile. Taking your time, you make your way to the library. Sam is hovering over a lore book while Dean is walking from the kitchen with two cups of coffee. You catch Dean’s eye and he gives you a quick worried once-over (what a mother hen) before giving you a smile.

“Hey kiddo, you need something?”

You straighten your back, trying to look more lively.

“Do y’all need anything? I’m ready to get back to work.” The brothers share a look, before Dean continues.

“Take it-” but you cut him off.

“Slow, and don’t hesitate to stop if needed. I got it.”

They’re both quiet as you ease yourself into one of the library chairs, accepting your rebuttal. A book on the table reads European Men of Letters Chapters. Opening the book, you can’t help but feel slightly excited to be back to normal. You give Sam and Dean a determined smile.

“Let’s get these SOBs.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Protector

Requested by @captaincvans

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, a little bit of Sam Winchester x little sister!reader

Synopsis: your big brother Dean has always been your protector

It started when you were four years old. Dean answered one of John’s phones, and was shocked to hear your tiny voice on the other end.

“Who is this? How did you get this number?”

“My mommy,” you were sobbing into the phone, and Dean’s heartbeat picked up. Had someone hurt the little girl on the other end? “My mommy said to call if-if bad things happened. She said it was my daddy’s number.”

To say Dean was shocked would be the understatement of the century, but he forced himself to remain calm, if only for the little girl who clearly needed help. John had gone out on a job, and Sam had walked to a nearby store to grab some supplies.

“Ok, well where’s your mommy?”

“The monster…he-he…” you broke down into sobs, and Dean didn’t need to hear anything else.

Dean was usually used to waiting for John’s orders before doing just about anything, but somehow now he knew just what to do. Every instinct inside him screamed to help you from the moment he heard your voice.

He didn’t know then, but that instinct would follow him for the rest of his life.

…

Dean’s relationship with you was different than his with Sam. Dean had practically raised Sam, but he literally raised you. The older the boys got, the more John left them for hunts. And there was the age difference; he was only four years older than Sam, but Dean had already grown up and started hunting by the time you came into his life. And after John died, the two of you became closer than ever, and he took on his role as caretaker even more seriously.

So, needless to say, hunting wasn’t in the cards for you. Of course Dean taught you how to defend yourself, but he knew that once you started hunting, you’d be stuck in that life forever, and that wasn’t a choice he was going to let you make as a teenager.

A part of you always wanted to fight him on it, not because you thought you’d love hunting, but because your big brothers risked their lives on an almost-daily basis, and you wanted to be there to help them. However, it didn’t take long for you to realize that being on a hunt would just put them in more danger; Dean would be so worried about you that he wouldn’t keep his head on straight. You weren’t going to be the reason he got distracted and killed on a hunt.

So you stayed behind.

But that didn’t mean that you were always safe.

…

“Crowley I swear, if you touch one hair on her head-“

“Let me guess, they’ll never find the body?”

“Oh no, they will,” Dean’s fists were clenched so hard, his palms were going numb. “They’ll find it, and they’ll keep finding it. Little bits, everywhere, maybe I’ll even drop you in a couple of different states. I’ll cut you up nice and slow, it’ll take weeks before you’re dead, and that’s if I’m feeling generous enough to let you die at all.”

“My my my, someone is very protective about his little pet. However, your mummy should’ve taught you some manners, because you see…” Dean flinched when he heard your screams over the phone. “I don’t like to be threatened, squirrel.”

“Ok, ok!” Dean relented. Your screams stopped.

“Good. Now, here’s my ultimatum,” Crowley’s voice rose in anger, “If you ever want to see this little runt again, the first thing you’re gonna do, is drop the attitude, and show some respect!” Crowley cleared his throat, and returned to his easygoing, neutral tone. “After all, I am the king of hell. And then, after that, you’re going to stop meddling in my affairs. That’s not so bad, is it?”

Dean was about to throw out a snarky response when your voice broke in.

“Don’t listen to him, Dean. He’s just a liar, he’ll betray y-“ your desperate, frightened voice cut off with a high-pitched scream, and Dean could swear he heard Crowley laughing.

“Now now, darling, that’s not very nice. Name-calling is for children. Oh that’s right,” Crowley’s laughter started up again. “You are a child.”

“Stop it!” Not seeing what was going on was driving Dean insane. He could only imagine what Crowley was doing to you. “Alright, Crowley, you get what you want. Just let her go!”

The screaming stopped again.

“Now, that’s sweet, Dean. But I’m afraid I don’t exactly trust your word. So, I’m going have to keep your little rugrat here for a little longer, just to make sure you make good on your promise. Deal?”

“No no no, Crowley you can’t just-“

“I think we’re done here.”

The click that followed might as well have been an atomic bomb.

…

“We got a location.”

Dean had never jumped up that fast in his entire life.

“Finally, let’s go.”

“Dean, hold on,” Sam placed his hand out, stopping Dean in his tracks. “We don’t know how many demons are guarding it.”

“You know what, Sam? I don’t really care. There could be a thousand demons in there for all I care. She’s in there, so I’m going.” Dean brushed past Sam, who reluctantly followed him into the Impala.

“I’m just saying, it would be nice to have a plan.”

“I have a plan.” Dean peeled out of the driveway and sped along the road.

“The plan is get her back.”

…

You heard them before you saw them. It would be impossible not to; the screaming of demons and the thud as bodies hit the floor wasn’t exactly quiet.

However, when the door burst open, it wasn’t your brothers who came in.

Crowley rushed toward you, his hand outstretched to grab you and teleport you with him. A split second before his hand reached your shoulder, the demon blade whizzed past his ear and struck his arm, throwing him off balance and onto the floor. Before he could get back up, Dean was on him, not even bothering with the knife as he pounded on Crowley’s face. Sam rushed in after him, grabbing Dean by the shoulder and pulling him off.

“That’s enough, Dean! Just use the kni-“

Before either brother could move towards the demon blade, Crowley had disappeared.

“No!” Dean slammed his fist against the wall, and was about to do it again when he heard it.

“Dean?”

Never, not even when you were little, had Dean ever heard you sound so small; so fragile. He turned, his gaze instantly softening, his fists relaxing as he rushed to your side. He quickly untied the ropes holding you to a metal chair, and as soon as you were free you collapsed into his waiting arms.

“You’re ok,” Dean’s eyes stung as he gripped you tightly to him. “You’re safe now, I’m here.”

“Is she ok?” Sam stepped up behind Dean, and Dean reluctantly pulled away to check you for injuries.

There was a gash along your cheek, and he saw several cuts on your arms and legs, but what really worried him was the blood covering the front of your shirt.

“Baby, can you…” Dean touched the pool of blood dripping down your stomach. You lifted your shirt a few inches, and he saw a deep cut running along your ribs. Blood was still gushing freely from the cut, and Dean quickly removed his top layer of flannel, pressing it against the wound.

Sam flinched when you cried out, and Dean winced.

“I know, I know it hurts honey. I need you to hold it there, though.” You took the shirt from him and he nodded, “Yeah, good, press it tight.” He glanced around one more time to be sure no demons were coming, before he scooped you into his arms. You cried out again when he jostled you, and he tried to ignore you as he turned to Sam.

“You gotta watch my back, I’ve got her, but I don’t know if there are any more demons still here.”

Sam nodded, taking the demon blade.

“Alright, I’ll drive.”

…

“Do we need to take her to a hospital?” Sam glanced to the back of the Impala, where your head was resting in Dean’s lap as he held his shirt against your cut.

“I’m ok,” your voice was quiet, almost sleepy.

“We should take her in,” Dean insisted.

“It doesn’t look like she’s lost that much blood,” Sam hesitantly argued.

“Dean, I’m ok,” you turned your gaze from your injury to your big brother. “Really, just stitch me up. I’ll be fine.”

Dean relented hesitantly, mostly because he didn’t put it past Crowley to try to alert local authorities to all the bodies he’d left in his wake saving you. The last thing you needed was to be stuck in a hospital while Sam and Dean got arrested.

“Alright, ok. But you gotta stay awake, understand?”

You were silent for a few seconds, and when your voice lifted he could hear the tears you were trying to hold back.

“He wouldn’t let me sleep.”

Dean felt the white-hot anger rising in him, but he forced it down.

“You…but you were gone for three days.”

“I know. But ev-every time I tried to sleep…” you picked at one of the cuts, and Dean got the picture. He glanced up to see Sam gripping the steering wheel with all his might, his knuckles turning snow-white.

“I’m sorry,” Dean’s soft voice was only beat by the softness in his eyes as he looked down at you. “I’m so sorry. But you gotta stay awake just a little bit longer, I’m sorry.”

You knew he wasn’t just apologizing for that.

“Dean, it’s not your fault.”

He turned to look out the window, and you knew he didn’t believe you.

“Dean,” you tried to raise your voice, but it just sent you into a fit of coughing. His head whipped back to look at you, and he squeezed his hand under your head, lifting you up a little so you could breathe.

“Honey, don’t talk, don’t talk. You’re ok, just breathe.”

“Dean,” you took a deep breath, “Dean it’s not. It’s not your fault-“

“Shh, shh,” he insisted, eyes flitting nervously over your face. “Kiddo please, don’t talk.”

“Then say it.”

Dean sighed, and you knew he wouldn’t mean it, but you wanted him to say it anyway.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

…

“I’m sorry,” Dean winced when you sucked in a breath, trying desperately to stay still as he sewed you up.

“I’m ok,” you insisted.

“Ok, I’m done,” Dean tied off the last stitch, and you hesitantly stood and headed to your bathroom to shower off the blood that was all but covering you.

Dean sat on your bed while you were gone, staring down at the blood on his hands, disgusted but somehow unable to get up to wash it off.

He stayed there until you returned, a clean shirt and your pajama pants on. You stepped up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again. You tugged on his arm without speaking, and he followed you mechanically as you pulled him into your bathroom.

You turned on the sink water and guided his hands under the flow, rubbing his hands until they were clean and your blood was running down the drain. You handed him a soft towel, and he slowly dried his hands.

The two of you stood there in silence, unsure of whether to move or not. Then suddenly, the two of you moved in sync. He opened his arms just as you moved towards him, and he wrapped you into his arms. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, while the other rested on the small of your back. You felt his chin rest on the top of your head, his arms tightening around you.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked.

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but you knew that you could scream it til doomsday and Dean still wouldn’t believe it. So instead you said what he needed to hear.

“I’m ok.”

…

You weren’t the only one who hadn’t been able to sleep during your captivity, and you knew it. Dean looked horrible, his eyes dark and his hair greasy and sticking out in strange angles. You didn’t think you could convince him to eat or shower, not yet at least. He hadn’t left your side in the hour since you got back, and you figured he would want to watch over you while you slept.

So, if you couldn’t make him eat, you figured you at least knew a way to make him sleep.

You let him tuck you into your bed before grabbing onto his arm as he turned to go.

“Stay with me,” you insisted. He nodded and reached to grab a chair.

“No, with me,” you lifted a corner of the blanket. Dean didn’t speak, he just climbed in next to you and let you lean against his arm.

After a few minutes, Dean’s breathing evened out and you smiled.

He was your protector, always.

But maybe there was some ways that you could save him, too.

[nyxiswrites1200]

🩵𝑺𝒂𝒎'𝒔 𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍🩵

Sam Winchester x Fem!reader

Warnings: NSFT, MDNI, Crushing, friends to lovers, pet names, Sexual tension, Mellow sexual thoughts, Size kink, p in v, nipple play, multiple rounds, oral sex, praise kink, aftercare

Mentions: She/her reader pronouns, Reader wears a skirt, Reader is implied to be shorter than Sam, Imagining early seasons Sam, Dean is present

"In a world of boys, he's a gentleman"

AN: uhh I know I died for like a month but supernatural brain rot is incoming. Sam girl for life <3 anyhow, happy holidays loves. This is so self-indulging, sorry babes.

----

Sam Winchester is an awkward man. He's so respectful he doesn't know what to do with himself sometimes. But don't mistake his sweet attitude for a lack of attraction.

When you bend over to pick his book up off the floor for him, he notices your skirt sliding up your thighs. He quickly looks away as he runs a hand through the back of his messy brown hair.

Sam always opens the door of the Impala for you when you join him and Dean on road trips. He notices the way you let your hand brush over his arm as you help yourself into the car. Dean just lets out a small laugh as he climbs into the driver's seat.

Sam watches you saunter around the motel room in his shirt. Under the claim that 'it's just more comfortable'. He loves the way your figure is swallowed up by his larger clothes.

Sometimes it was almost degrading how respectful he was. In truth, you were trying to get his attention. To catch him peaking under your skirt, getting hard from seeing you in his shirt, or him finally being pushed over the edge by your 'discreet' affectionate touches. You swore you were gonna have to climb in his lap and say "fuck me" for him to actually do it.

In truth, Sam wasn't oblivious to what you wanted. Rather he was too kind to give it to you. He thought you were so precious that he needed to deny you. Sleeping with you would be too personal, too intimate and he wouldn't be able to let go of you after.

Dean let out a small laugh, Sam and him were alone in the hotel room while you went to go get dinner for the three. "What, Dean?" Sam asked in his partially sassy attitude as he read through his book. "Nothing nothing...it's just funny watching her pawn for you. Think you might be hurtin' her feelings." Dean smirked as he looked over at his little brother. Sam sighed in response, knowing he could only be talking about you. "I'm not that stupid, I know what she wants...I just..." he ran a hand through his hair "I don't think I should". "Sammy" Dean inquires "Look, she knows what we do. She hasn't gone running yet and she's perfectly human, there's nothing dangerous about that girl" he chuckles. "I know you're afraid because of what happened but...I think this might be something worth risking".

Sam let Dean's words simmer in his thoughts all night. For once he might actually agree with his older brother.

The next night you and Sam were alone. You finally spilled, being brutally honest. Sam watched with a bit of shock as you admitted how you'd be pawning for him. All your actions had a purpose and how bad you wanted to be his girlfriend. You almost wanted to cry with how emotionally overwhelmed this made you trying to explain yourself.

"Lovely, I'm sorry..." Sam stands as he cups your cheek and tilts your head up to meet his gaze. "I know you want me but I was being selfish because I know if I...indulge myself in you, I won't be able to let you go ever again." he explained, his voice was so gentle and his eyes reminded you of a puppy with the way he looked at you. "Maybe...I'm a little selfish too" you chime in "I just...I wanna be yours so bad that I don't really care what happens".

Those words alone tumbled the tension between both of you over the edge. Sam's kisses were soft then heated and needy. He had you pushed against the motel wall while both of you discarded your clothes. His larger figure covered you as he kissed you desperately. His hands engulfed your hips as he gripped them.

Once you two were on the bed, his hands fondled your breasts, teasing your nipples between his fingers. His chest pressed into your back as he kissed along your neck. You reached back to tangle a hand into his hair.

Sam was so sweet but he was a fucking god in bed. He knew exactly where to kiss, fondle, and tease. Nothing but deeply slurred words of "How does that feel?", "You okay?", "Taking me so well, lovely", and "Good girl...". You went three rounds with him...

He rubbed your clit and toyed with your nipples, leaving kisses and sucking up your neck. You came on his fingers, feeling him stretch you open. You wanted to watch his strong hands fuck into you so bad.

He nestled himself between your thighs. His tongue lapping up your first orgasm. You watched as you tugged on his hair, noticing the dominant look in his eyes. His hands gripping your thighs to keep them spread as you squirmed beneath him. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked on it until he fucked his tongue inside you while you came again.

Then finally he fills you with his cock, only after making sure you were okay. He had you stuffed to the brim, grunts and moans leaving him with each thrust. He pressed his forehead against yours as he kissed your cervix with the tip of his dick.

When you came for a third time, he let you ride your high until he pulled out and finished on your stomach. A gentleman as always, not stuffing you with his cum on the first night. Even if you wouldn't have minded.

Sam carefully cleaned you up in the bath. Warm water envelops you both. He placed a soft kiss on your shoulder and gently rubbed your side as he cleaned you up. His actions are no longer lustful, this was just affectionate. "Did you enjoy yourself? Wasn't too much?" he asked softly, his expression back to looking like a puppy. "I'm fine, Sammy. It was perfect..." You smiled and kissed him softly.

[pnwvegan]

“Stamina Break”

Sam Winchester x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+

Summary: Sam and Y/N decide to take a break from sex to build stamina up, and decide instead to jog every morning. Where will this fitness journey turn?

“Just a little bit longer!” Sam called as you were rounding the corner of the path you were jogging on. You were on the last mile of your three mile jog and you felt sweaty and winded.

It wasn’t all bad, you loved the endorphins and the extra bonding time you got with Sam. What inspired this fitness journey was at first just a simple bed room challenge for the both of you. You had been having a lot of sex recently and decided that you needed a stamina break. You both then figured that the next time you had sex, the orgasms would be mind blowing.

You had gotten about three to four days in when you both started getting antsy, to make matters worse, one of your rules of this challenge was no getting yourself off. After hungrily staring at each other from across the library table, white knuckling and glaring, you decided you both needed to put the energy elsewhere.

The next morning you went jogging and now you were two days in, running side by side, giving each other longing glances. You were half a mile away from the bunker when Sam stopped for a breather, you in tow a few steps behind. He stretched upwards, flexing in his shirt. You eyed him fully, knowing that only Sam could look like a god in workout clothes. He caught you staring and smirked,

“Like what you see?” Sweat glistened down the valley of his throat, onto his chest. You bit your lip,

“Just admiring something I’d love to get my hands all over.” His eyes went dark immediately at this, running up and down your body, sizing you up. You gulped as he took one big step closer to you, your exercise sweat turning into anticipation drops all over your body. Just before he could take another step, you put your foot down in front of him and took a step directly in front of him.

You stared at each other for a long moment, deep in contemplation. Deciding who was going to be the one to throw the towel in first on this challenge between you. Sam answered that question a moment later when he took a deep cleansing breath, looked both ways down the path and scooped you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and pinned you against a tree.

Sam bit your lip and started grinding against your clothed middle, feeling how hard he was. And it honestly only made you wetter. He rested his forehead against yours, breathlessly he said

“I can’t take this anymore, I have to take you now or I’m going to cum in my pants”. You moaned into his mouth as you kissed him, the kiss getting hotter by the minute.

You continued kissing him, your hands running down his firm back muscles. He then moved down to kissing your neck, him kissing it so passionately that you thought he was definitely going to leave a few marks. Your nipples pointed through your shirt and sports bra begging to be touched as your hand reached down and grabbed his weeping cock. A painful/relieved sigh came from his throat as his hands went to palm your breasts.

You got lost in this pleasure filled haze of hands and lips, suddenly forgetting that a stamina break was a good idea at all. You both looked around again to see if you were indeed still alone. Sam nodded reassuringly and you turned around and pushed your ass out to his still clothed cock, he put his hands on your hips and you could hear the smirk in his voice as he said,

“I can’t wait to see this perfect ass bounce on my cock,” he began to pull your yoga pants down and you felt goosebumps rise as your skin was revealed to the chilly morning air. His hand ran in a circular motion on your ass,

“Don’t worry baby, we’ll get you all warmed up,” you chuckled and before you could say anything in return, your breath caught in your throat as his hand came down hard on your ass.

You heard fabric ruffling behind you, holding your breath with anticipation. You felt Sam’s tip slide along your lips, you groaned.

“You want this dick, baby?” He grunted in your ear, you could tell he was impatient to be inside you.

“Yes,Sammy, yes” you whined. He pushed inside you without warning and you let out a long sigh. He put his hand over your mouth before you could scream from the pleasure.

He started rolling his hips agonizingly slow and you pushed your ass back to get more friction, moaning in the palm of his hand. His other hand firmly gripping your hip.

“This pussy was so worth the wait, god I love being inside you, just the perfect fit for me,”

He rocked inside you deeper at his last words, then he began to rock harder. He pushed your hips back so hard that you could hear the skin slapping, Sam audibly moaned. The noise making you wetter, if that was possible. Sam must have noticed, because he said,

“I’m not going to last much longer,” you smirked,knowing he couldn’t see your smile.

He reached around and started rubbing your clit, you moaned as he moved his hand from your mouth to your hair. He pounded you harder and you let out several breathy moans before you came all over his dick. Leading Sam to cum only minutes later, cursing into your ear.

Breathless you looked at each other while leaning on the tree, sweaty and tired. You had Sam’s cum coming down your legs. He cradled your face into his hands and said,

“That stamina build wasn’t a bad idea Y/N” you giggled and just said,

“I’ll race you to the shower for round two”

[inlovewhithafairytale]

POV: The Winchester's have a little sister

[super-incorrect]

Sam - Dean, what did I say about PDA?

Dean, with Y/n on his lap and in the middle of a make-out session - I don't know what you're talking about.

[aloneatpeace]

Dean : *Screams*

Sam : * Screams louder to assert dominance*

Y/n: Should we do something?!

Cas, observing: No, I want to see who wins this.

[supernaturalfreewill]

"What are you doing? Hey—Y/N!" Dean jogged over and saw you tossing your gear into the trunk of your car. Sam wasn't far behind him.

"You're leaving?" Sam asked, eyeing your duffel bag already loaded and watching as you slammed the trunk. "We need you," he emphasized.

You fiddled with your keys. "Look, I'm staying well enough away from... that. I've seen all this before and I know where it leads. Not interested," you said pulling the driver side door open. The Winchester brothers drifted after you.

Sam sighed heavily. "I get all that, I do. I understand. But we really need you on this one. Without you, our chance of success is—"

"Zero!" Dean interrupted. "We need your freaky psychic mumbojumbo or we're going to be turned into—vapor! Mincemeat!"

Sam shot him an annoyed look. "Not. Helping." He pushed a hand back through his hair and fixed his earnest eyes on you. "If you really can't do this, it's okay. We'll figure something else out."

Dean threw his hands up and paced a tight circle.

"But you know we'd never ask you to do anything that we knew you couldn't handle."

You looked up at him and his expression was so sincere, his eyes so soft, you felt yourself melting. You sighed and closed your eyes, leaning on your still-open driver's door. "Fuck," you murmured. "Fine! But one of these days I'm going to build up enough immunity to those Sam Winchester puppy-dog eyes and be able to actually say no to you!"

Sam smiled and actually let out a light laugh, relieved. "Thank you. You don't know what this means to us."

"Yeah, yeah..." you waved him off, popping your trunk again. "You two can carry all my shit back inside then..."

Prompt: "I'm staying well enough away from... that. I've seen all this before and I know where it leads."

[virtualreader]

broken hearts and healing souls

deanwinchesterxfem!reader

summary: carrying the ruins of the broken heart the death of his father had left behind, Dean pushes you away, fearing hurting you as well. or perhaps he’s just scared of being hurt himself, one more time.

word count: 3,3k. (does not include lyrics)

warnings: alleged age gap, fierce anger, heated argument, drinking out of spite, supressed feelings, cursing, yelling, not the happiest end, and lots and lots of angst.

part 2

a/n: i started watching supernatural about a month ago and I'm loving it so far. and god, i couldn't help but fall truly, madly, deeply in love with dean winchester. this scenario came to my mind while listening someone to stay - vancouver sleep clinic, so this one shot is based on this song. feedback is always appreciated. please, comment if you think I should write a part 2 to this one!

"You can't boss me around, Dean! I'm not a child anymore!" you barked at the hunter standing by the motel room's door.

"I can't? Watch me!" Dean retorted, breathing heavily and extending his arms upward to appear bigger. "As the eldest here, it's my call to make the hard decisions. And I've decided that you won't come on any more hunts, end of story. You're risking your life out there—it's dangerous, y/n. What's not clear about that?!"

You and Dean had been arguing for a while. He came into the motel room the three of you—Sam, Dean and yourself—were forced to share, stringently declaring you were not allowed to go with them on hunts anymore.

After the previous mission ended with you being kidnapped by the demon you were after and tied to a chair in an old building's basement, the oldest brother wasted no time in making a decision. Despite your eagerness to rid the world of evil, Dean prioritized your safety, even if you didn't see it that way.

Dean Winchester was an undaunted and confident man, he had been since his mother died, he had to be, for his family's sake, for his own sake. Yet, when it came to you, potential bad outcomes constantly assaulted his mind. He could not afford to lose another loved one, so he did not take a gamble.

"It is my life that I am endangering, so I strongly believe that I get to choose whether I want to expose myself to hunting hazards or not. You are not my dad and cannot give me orders, Winchester!" you declared, raising your voice with anger and trembling as you pointed your index finger at him.

You were hurt and confused. Hunting had been your life for as long as you could remember and now he was taking that away from you. You tried to plead your case, but he had already made up his mind.

In response to your defiance, Dean raised his chin, pursed his lips, and clenched his jaw. Yet, even in his anger, he maintained steady eye contact with you. It was clear he was not going to back down easily.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he queried exasperated. “That demon back there, could have killed you, and you know that. This is not some inoffensive deer we’re going after.”

He was undoubtedly referring to the incident that happened earlier that day, when he was able to free you from the grasp of the demon. It was the same demon that mercilessly took your father’s life, leaving you fatherless at the tender age of twelve and subsequently placed under the care of the Winchesters.

Growing up with them, you learned to navigate the dangerous world of hunting and the supernatural. From hours-long road trips and campfires to cozy movie-evenings and pancake Sundays, your memories with your new family included a wide variety of experiences that left a lasting impact on you.

The bond you formed with the Winchesters was one built on mutual respect and a shared purpose, making them more than just your guardians; they were your family, and you were theirs.

"God, what a pig-headed dude you are," you muttered, oozing frustration, as you let out a peeved sigh. "So you, old man, can risk being killed by these heartless creatures, but I can't? Is it just because I'm younger than you guys? ‘Cause I already told you, I am as much of an adult as you are.”

Clearly, you would not be swayed by Dean's demands. You were your own person, with your own will and your own desires. You were determined to stand up for yourself and live your life on your own terms.

He took a moment to observe your bruised appearance as he pondered his answer. The blood that had previously emerged from the wound above your eyebrow was already dry, while the cut on your lip was still struggling to form a scab.

He noticed the swelling around your left eye, a tell-tale sign of the force of the blow that had landed on your face. And as he looked at you, he could not help but feel responsible for your emaciated state.

"If you're such an adult, you'll be fine on your own. You don't need me, do you?" the hunter sassed back, towering over you, tilting his head and upturning his brows.

Dean's words hurt you deeply, and you felt tears welling up in your eyes. But you refused to let him see you cry. You straightened your back and met his gaze with a fierce determination.

"Do you want me to leave?” you said, your voice shaking a little. “Fine. If that's what you want, I'll leave. But don't expect me to come back."

You walked past him, feeling his eyes on your back. You didn't turn around, didn't give in to the urge to look at him again. You needed to be strong, to show him that you could make it on your own. But deep down, you knew that you didn't want to be alone. You needed Dean, more than you wanted to admit.

"Hey, girl!" you called out to the waitress, raising your voice above the noise of the tavern to get her attention. "Can I get a refill, please?”

You were alone, left out in the cold Clinging to the ruin of your broken home Too lost and hurting to carry your load We all need someone to hold

As you waited for your drink, you couldn't help but replay the argument with Dean in your mind. You felt hurt and betrayed by his words. You were mad at him for not understanding your desire to be by his side, no matter the risks.

You were lost in thought when a voice snapped you out of your reverie.

"Rough night?" inquired a gold-haired man as he took a seat on the adjoining stool.

The man seemed to be a bit younger than Dean, possibly in his mid-twenties, closer to your own age. He wore a white crewneck t-shirt that hugged his muscular arms around the biceps, and his dark slim fit jeans matched the black pattern printed on his shirt's front.

It was difficult to determine whether it was the effect of the second-rate alcohol or your personal taste in men, but it was safe to say he was far from unattractive and he was, in fact, quite handsome.

"You could say so." you answered his question with a touch of apathy but still flashed a slight smile his way.

You've been fighting the memory, all on your own Nothing worsens, nothing grows I know how it feels being by yourself in the rain We all need someone to stay We all need someone to stay

The man took a slow, deliberate sip from his beer bottle and leaned back, his eyes fixed intently on you. His gaze seemed to linger for a moment, as if he were trying to gauge your reaction to what he had just said.

"You know," he said, his voice low and suggestive, "I can make it better for you, pretty."

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks at the man's brazen suggestion, and you couldn't help but feel a little intrigued by his offer.

You glanced around the dimly lit tavern, taking in the smoky air and the clinking of glasses. It was the kind of place where people came to drown their sorrows and forget about the troubles of the day-to-day life. And in that moment, you couldn't help but feel like you were just another lost soul adrift in the sea of humanity.

The man's eyes were still fixed on you, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be waiting for your response, as if he knew that his offer had the power to change the course of your night—or maybe even your life.

You took a deep breath and met his gaze head-on, feeling a sense of daring that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"And how, exactly, do you plan on doing that?" you asked, your voice tinged with a hint of amusement.

The man smiled, a slow, confident grin that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Let's just say that I know a thing or two about making a woman feel good," he replied, his voice dripping with innuendo.

It was abundantly clear what his intentions were at this point in time, and to be entirely candid, it did not annoy you at all.

You eagerly accepted the charming man's alluring offer. And with a sense of anticipation, you followed him out of the sleazy bar, seeking shelter from the gentle patter of the light rain under the protective eaves.

As you walked alongside him, you found yourself captivated by his confident stride and the way his eyes sparkled in the dim light emanating from the street lamps.

You could feel his hand slowly making its way towards your hip, until it rested there, just barely grazing the upper part of your buttocks. This subtle touch sent a sparkling feeling coursing through your body, starting from the core and reaching all the way up to your chest. It created a warm whirlwind of expectancy, causing your heart to beat faster in anticipation.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice asked, a hint of pain in it.

Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day you were helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?

Dean narrowed his eyes, anguishedly taking in the sight in front of him.

As you stood there, drenched from the rain and your mind clouded by the alcohol, Dean's sudden appearance caught you off guard. He was directly facing you, his eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the pain and anger etched upon his features.

"What the hell are you doing here, y/n?" Dean asked incredulously, his voice laced with anger and hurt. “And who the fuck is that jerk?”

You froze, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. You had been so caught up in your own emotions that you hadn't even considered how your actions might affect Dean.

You've drunk it down and you've spat it out And nothing tastes like the things you had So tear it off, why don't you let them go? We all need someone to stay We all need someone to stay

"I didn't know she was taken, mate. I didn't mean to meddle in your relationship," the guy standing next to you apologized, his voice trembling as Dean's contempting gaze threatened to pierce his soul. Green eyes—usually a symbol of grace—had never held such a look of hatred. “She’s all yours, mate.”

Once the man marched back into the tavern, with tail between legs, the hunter’s emerald orbs landed on you. And as he beamed down at you, you noticed how much woe his gaze held. He wasn’t someone to let his emotions surface, not at all, that would leave his feelings too exposed, too unguarded.

He didn't seem to mind the rain dribbling over his leather jacket or his well-styled hair as he approached you. Although you had a defiant demeanor, you took a step backward in response, and your back met the wall covered in graffiti.

“Thought you said ‘I’d be fine on my own’.” you tried to sound confident as you quoted him, yet the alcohol running through your veins caused your words to slur together.

"Yeah, I said on your own! Not with some opportunistic macho man!" he said, referring to your previous companion.

He looked at you with a mixture of disbelief and anger, his eyes scanning your face as if he was trying to find some kind of explanation for what he was seeing.

And then, his anger boiled over, and he let out a shout that echoed through the empty streets. "No way. Are you fucking drunk?!" he yelled. "Are you nuts?!"

The force of his outburst hit you like a physical blow, and you could feel your heart racing in your chest. You had never seen Dean like this before, and it was clear that he was at his breaking point.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, staring at each other in silence, the rain pouring down around you like a curtain. And then, slowly, you began to speak, your words tumbling out of you in a jumbled mess.

"You're one to talk. You, my dear friend, are the very reason I'm here, drinking my sorrows away." you scoffed at him.

Your eyes darted around, looking at anything but Dean. You felt intimidated—what with Dean’s tall figure and the disappointment you could discern in his expression.

“Drinking won’t solve anything, y/n. You know better than this.”

"Do I really?” you uttered, struggling to keep at bay your wobbly lip. “Last time I checked, I was just a kid to you.”

Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?

As the rain continued to fall, the rhythmic clattering of the water drops mixed with the sound of cars cruising over the wet pavement, creating an overwhelming melody.

The droplets seemed to grow in size and force. You welcomed the heavier rain, grateful for the way it obscured the tears that threatened to overflow from your eyes.

You knew that if he saw you crying, he would only see you as weak and immature, even more than he already saw you. You had always been strong and independent, and you didn't want him to think any less of you.

So you stood there, letting the rain soak into your clothes and hair, hoping that it would wash away the pain and sorrow you felt inside.

“I don’t think of you as a kid. I just prefer you staying away from those creatures. You know better than anyone what that demon is capable of. It killed your father, and you could’ve died today too, y/n!”

“Do not act like you care! And do not dare mentioning my dad ever again! You are too self-centered to take others’ needs into account.”

With a trembling voice, you lashed out at Dean, your emotions running high and your patience wearing thin. You couldn't stand the way Dean tried to control your life, always telling you what to do and what not to do.

You had grown up fast in the world of hunting, learning to fend for yourself and to take care of others. You had seen things that most people couldn't even imagine, and you had faced danger and death head-on. You were not some delicate flower that needed to be protected at all costs.

And yet, Dean seemed to think otherwise. He was always trying to shield you from harm, even if it meant keeping you from doing what you loved most.

"Do you even hear yourself, Dean?" you continued, your voice rising with every word. "You act like you're the only one who knows what's best for me. You don't trust me to make my own decisions, although I've been hunting just as long as you have. You're so wrapped up in your own fears and insecurities that you can't see how much you're hurting me."

"You're part of my family now, and as such, I must protect you," Dean declared, helplessness building up inside his chest. "Why do you find it so hard to understand?”

You were alone, left out in the cold Clinging to the ruin of your broken home Hear the falling and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? The end of the day and we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me?

“I-…Just…leave me alone. Please, Dean.”

And it was then when, acting on your most primitive impulses, you took off, walking away from Dean with no determined destination.

It was not that you were afraid of Dean, no, you had spent too many years among the Winchesters to know he would never voluntarily hurt you, at least not physically. You found him sort of intimidating, more like it.

It was well known among the Winchesters' acquaintances that Dean, although not often, could become livid if you pressed the right buttons. And no one would ever want that fatal rage to be directed at them, unless they wanted to know what hell felt like.

However, the emotion the hunter was feeling now was not anger. It was something else, something both mysterious and intriguing. Although his muscles remained tight, his eyes shone with unshed tears, and a pinched expression was plastered on his face.

You fought against the urge to turn back and run into his embrace, to apologize to him and leave this dispute behind. It was a struggle to hold onto your never-so-fragile pride when your love for him had never felt as powerful as it did now. Not since you had first fallen in love with him, at least, back when you were a silly, naive teenager.

A hand grabbed firmly onto your arm, forcing you into a halt. You did not have the courage to turn around and face him with a trail of tears cascading over your cheeks, even if the drizzling rain disguised it somewhat. There was no need for that, however, when he began speaking, not waiting for you to look at him.

"I'm sorry, y/n," he apologized in a small voice, unaccustomed to saying such words. "I didn't mean to push you away. I... I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you. I'm scared, y/n. Scared of losing you like I lost my father, like I lost my mother," Dean confessed, his voice softening, dropping in pitch.

You turned to look at him, really look at him, and saw the pain and fear written in his face.

You felt a lump form in your throat at the raw emotion in Dean's words. You had always known that he cared about you, but you had never realized just how much you meant to him.

"Dean," you said, stepping closer to him and placing a hand on his arm. "I'm not going to die. I'm strong, and I know how to take care of myself. But I need you to trust me. I need you to let me make my own decisions, even if it means taking risks sometimes."

You stopped, taking a big deep breath before continuing.

“What you said back at the motel, it hurt me, a lot. I have nothing left, Dean. My family is dead, I have no place to stay, no job, no nothing. I’ve lost everything.”

“You have me.” He took a step towards you, getting closer, and caressed your feathery cheek with his large hand. “You always have and always will have me.”

Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?

Dean wiped away a tear from your cheek, his thumb tracing your skin softly. "I'm sorry for pushing you away, y/n. I was just so afraid of losing you. But I promise, from now on, I'll trust you to make your own decisions. We'll face everything together, as a team."

A turmoil of heartfelt emotions whirled its way down to your very core as Dean's words sank in. And, as you looked up at him, you saw the love and devotion in his eyes, and you felt grateful like never before to the Winchesters for taking you in.

Seizing the proximity, you took a moment to admire him. The softness on his eyes only adding to his already perfectly alluring features. The green orbs standing out his face had never shone as bright, and his nose glowed as red as his eyes, probably from the cold air of the drizzly night.

Yet the part you spent the longest time observing was his lips. Sultry pouty lips, that rested slightly parted.

And as if in a dream, he leaned in intertwining his lips with yours in a genuine kiss. Sliding the hand that previously laid on your cheek to the back of your neck, bringing you nearer to his own body.

His grip was both firm and steady, but no less gentle, just so as if he never wanted to let go of you. Your movements kept in step with each other's, as your mouths melted in a much-needed dance.

None of you cared about the rain soaking your clothes or the idling engine of the precious impala of Dean’s, nor about the small crowd by the tavern’s entrance looking at you. You were in a deep immersion into the depths of the moment, and all you saw, all you could regard was the man in front of you - the man you’ve always loved.

The idyllic moment was short-lived, much to your dismay, as Dean pulled away and apprehensively took a step backwards. But the pain you felt then was nothing compared to the stabbing sensation in your heart when he opened his mouth to speak again.

"I'm sorry. This was a mistake."

part 2

[ellieslittleburrow]

Siblings

Summary : You live near campus, away from Dean and Sam. You haven't seen them in a while. How do you react when you find them right at your door?

Pairings : Dean and Sam winchester x sister

Warnings : nooone, just fluff.

A/N : Hi, babies ❣❣ I hope this is as refreshing to you as it was for me.

------

Oil sizzled as you set the stove on the lowest heat. You tossed the chopped up onions into the pan, filling the room with the familiar aroma.

The house phone rang. And you moved the pan aside before heading for the phone. You pressed a button, setting the phone near your ear when a familiar hum sounded.

Oh my god!

"Dean!" You excitedly shouted, earning yourself an "ouch" over the other line. You pressed a another button, opening the complex door for him and since you were only in the third floor, it only took him a quick minute to appear, followed by Sam.

"Hii" You opened your arms, running to embrace both of them. "What a surprise."

"Hey, kiddo." Dean tightly wrapped his arms around you, letting you go when Sam spoke.

"Hey, honey." Sam pulled you into a hug.

"I missed you both so much." Your voice vibrated into Sam's chest. "What are you doing here?"

"Eating, apparently." As Dean's voice went distant, you pulled away from Sam, spinning around to find Dean marching towards the kitchen.

You let out a little chuckle, following behind.

-----

After setting the plates and beers on the table, you plumped down on the couch, waiting for your brothers to join. And as all three of you started eating, an hour and a half of talks about life, uni, cases and john flowed seamlessly.

"So..." Dean coughed. "Anybody in your life....kid?"

You rolled your eyes at Dean's sudden change of voice. You knew this one, a low tone, manipulative and curious. You're not falling for it.

"Nobody, Dean." You smiled at him, not caring that he already knew you were lying.

"Are you sure about that? Because i'm pretty sure you don't wear size 12 flip floppers." He eyed the entry door and you snorted a laugh. Fucking hell..This guy's eyes..

"Leave her alone, Dean." Sam rolled his eyes before turning to you. "As long as you're happy, honey."

You smiled at his response....your eyes darting around the room when silence set in...

"Alright....Time to head out, Dean." Sam slapped his thighs, readying himself to get up when you pushed him back down.

"No!"

"We have to go, honey. We still have 5 hours to go before we get there." Sam argues and you shook your head.

"Please don't....it's only been an hour." You pleaded, looking over at Dean, who, to your surprise, was staring at you with pleading eyes.

He did not want to go either.

"Come on, Sammy. It's-" you spun around to get a look at the clock. "It's 6pm, don't you wanna get some sleep and head back for the road tomorrow morning?."

Sam grimaced. "I don't know if that's such a good idea, honey. I really do want to stay, but we could always stay over on our way ba-."

You turned to Dean, leaving Sam hanging. But Dean was already laid back, quiet, waiting for you to do all the dirty work. That's when Sam spoke again.

"Okay, how about this" He started, and your eyes grew wide, anticipating what's about to happen.

Sam straightened his back as he held his arms out, positioning one hand on top of the other, his right fist resting on top of his left palm. And as Dean understood the assignment, he got up, mirroring sam.

And in silence you watched, as for the very first time, Sam laid a rock, losing the fight as early as the first round.

You burst into laughter as Sam's eyebrows arose. Nobody expected that. And as you lifted your arms up, jumping in pure ecstasy, Dean grinned triumphantly.

"I won."

You nodded. "And you spend the night here."

Sam smacked his hands together. "Alright, then. Let's prep for a night in."

----

And we're done! If yall can spare a minute and tell me about my writiing pleaase? if i should change it up, if it's too repetitive and stuff. No pressure and thanks in advance ❣ 🖤🖤🥀🥀

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Anything You Need (Supernatural One-Shot)

Dean Winchester x Sam Winchester x GN!Reader (no Wincest) / requests are open

Summary: The boys discover you've been having some... unpleasant thoughts.

Fic type: emotional hurt/comfort

Potential Triggers: mentions of suicidal thoughts and regret over not having perished to the MOTW

SPN: @wereallbrokenangels (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Not that many things made you cry these days. You'd seen some shit, that's for sure. Mothers pinned to the ceiling in flames, vampires being beheaded, babies crying out for family members that wouldn't come home- and spirits that cried out for company and whose sadness waded through towns like thick, boggy, slimy water.

None of that made you cry.

Almost having the sweet release of death and having it ripped from you by your partners in (quite literal) crime, however? That. That made you cry.

The boys, they chalked it up to you having a near-death experience and copping a few new badass scars in the process. They thought it was shock at first. And it probably was. At first.

But the hours ticked by and you were ushered back into the safety of the Impala and, well, the shock wore off. You'd almost died. You would have been grateful for it, to be quite honest, but no. They took that away.

"Come on, sweetheart," Dean said, leaning over the back of the front seat to look at you, curled up and watching the window with a fairly dead-inside expression on your face. "You can't still be upset. We almost die every damn week- so tell us what's up, huh?"

Your eyes shifted from the window to the door handle. If you pulled it you'd fall out onto the road and get flattened like a pancake by that semi crawling up the Impala's ass.

"I'm fine," you replied thickly, not making eye contact.

"All due respect but that's a load of crap," Dean said, scoffing to himself. You could see Sam watching you in the rearview mirror as he drove along the highway. He knew something serious was up. It was only a matter of time before he pulled over and sat you down for a big long chat about your feelings.

"All due respect but I don't care," you replied back before the words had registered in your head. You regretted them as soon as they left your mouth and the clenching of his jaw and flash of hurt in his eyes as he looked to his brother for help just lodged that heavy stone of guilt further into your gut.

"Sorry. I'm- I've not been myself lately," you sighed, not wanting to get into this but not feeling as though you had much of a choice now. "You-you ever just... wanna die? Like, not actually die, but you just feel like it sometimes?"

Dean was quiet, looking at your knee as he processed the words. Sam's eyes flicked to yours in the mirror again.

"Yeah, I've felt that before," Sam said after a beat, avoiding his brother's piercing stare. "I get why you didn't, but you could have told us."

You dropped your head onto the car door, huffing out a grunt because to be honest- that was all you could muster right now.

"Fuck, I didn't know I was living with the Downers' Club," Dean said, scratching at the back of his head. He didn't mean anything by it, of course. Humour was his coping mechanism. He was quiet for another moment. "Shit, I- you know I'm not good with the whole words thing. Hang on-"

Then Dean set down his father's notebook and clambered over the back of the seat, landing unceremoniously next to you with a grunt, mumbling something about mud on the leather.

"Wh-Dean-" you said, moving to make room for him. He just shushed you, set his feet down in the footwell and turned you around so your head was in his lap. You looked up at him, melting into his touch. He put one hand under your head, bracing you and making sure you didn't get a neck-ache, and with the other, caressed your hair, massaging at the scalp.

"No good with words but I'll be damned if I don't know how to play with someone's hair. Sammy used to love it when he was a kid. Used to get these nightmares 'n nothin' would calm him except me touchin' his head. Little weirdo. Got damn good at it, though."

You snorted, but you couldn't deny the magic he was weaving with your nerves, untangling them and braiding them back together. You felt your muscles slowly start to un-tense, and your eyes drift closed with pleasure.

"We're always here for you, darlin'," Sammy said, reaching a hand back and over the seat to brush your cheek comfortingly. It looked like an awkward angle, and it was gone a moment later, back on the wheel.

"Absolutely," Dean said reverently, looking down at you with so much love in his eyes that you could feel it warming you up from the inside even with your own eyes closed. "Anything you need."

[cheynovak]

Crush

Dean Winchester x Reader (Y/N) & Sam Winchester (platonic)  

Warnings: Fluff, Implied smut, body shaming, alcohol, trauma, nothing too extreme,  

This story does not follow the SPN timeline.  

Side note: English isn’t my first language.  Words: 5166 

Y/N is a high school crush/friend of Sam, when they were 16 y/o they attended the same school for a while. She was one of the only kids who didn’t made fun of him, they became friends pretty quick. Sam always thought Y/N was a nice, friendly and cute girl, a little bigger than most of the girls in school but cute. Sam spends his entire time hanging out with her, trying to ask her to prom, only one problem, Y/N likes another, older guy, he didn’t know the older guy was Dean.  

 Now years later the brothers path crosses again with Y/N.   

Cursive are memories. 

~ Part 2 out now! ~

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

Dean looked at the menu in front of him, waiting for Sam, hoping he had more news over the case they were working on. Vampires, only this time the nest seemed big, they had killed a few they found, but somehow more and more people seemed missing. It looked like every time they took one down another one popped up.  

“Dean? Dean Winchester?” The older brother heard his name and looked up, to see the waitress. “Yes... that’s me?” He answered reluctantly. “It’s me... Y/N. A high school friend of Sam.” He took a good look this time.  - “Y/N?” Sam had just entered the diner. “It’s been so long! How are you!” He asked her while immediately pulling her in a hug.  “I’m great! Too long I know. How are you?”  

Dean witnessed the conversation, still not entirely sure who she was. He started to think about all the high schools they attended to. Sure he would have remembered it when Sam had a girl friend... definitely a girl this... hot. Unless he didn’t attend school anymore. And then he remembered.  

-- 

“Thanks Dean, for driving us!” - “No problem sweetheart.” He winked at Y/N while she got out of the car. “Sam, wait a sec I need to talk to you.” He held his brother back. “Can’t this wait after school? I’m going to ask Y/N to the dance.”  “Yeah, about the dance...” he mumbled under his breath. “Hey, Y/N wait up!” Sam rushed out of Dean’s car, he watched his little brother jog to the slightly chubby but cute girl, knowing he won’t be taking her to the dance.  

-- 

Dean remembered, making him unconsciously interrupt their conversation, without filtering his words first. “Now I remember... Y/N the chubby friend from when you were 17!” - “What the hell Dean! ” Sam hit his shoulder, while he looked apologetic over to Y/N, who seem to be amused by Dean’s bluntness. “Yeah, well that’s what most people remember of me.”  

“I’m sorry, you look great! You’ve changed... A lot!” Dean apologised in a yet flirty way, looking her up and down. “And you haven’t changed, have you.” Y/N laughed at his attempt. “Please tell me you’re staying in town a little longer this time?” She turned to Sam. “Eh, a few days at least.” - “Great...” she kept looking at him, “Jeez, almost forgot to take your order.” They talked a little more after they had their food and in between orders.  

“Hey if you want, we can stay a little longer after the job is finished.” Dean told his brother. “Maybe you and Y/N over there can catch up some lost time.” - “I don’t know Dean, she seems to have a great life I don’t want her to be involved in ours.” - “Did you ever go out with her?” - “No, she eh, liked someone else.” - “Really who?” - “Don’t know, an older guy, didn’t attend our school.” - “ Oh really? I seem to remember she liked you.” Dean felt bad for his brother.  

“You’re lucky again, Y/N.” Her co-worker said while they were making their orders. “What do you mean?”  - “You always get the handsome or cute boys at your tables.” She nodded to Sam and Dean. “Old friend of yours?” - “I went to school with that one...” she pointed at Sam. “And that is his older brother. He, eh was the first guy I ever kissed.” - “Lucky you.” Y/N her mind drifted away to an old memory.  

-- 

School dance was in two weeks, but Y/N still had no dress. All the dresses she tried on were either, too long, short or small. The popular girls who bullied Y/N for being overweight seemed to notice Y/N struggling in the store and decided to ad a little salt to the wound.  

Dean dropped Sam off at the library a few streets away, he had to run an errands for his dad and decided to buy some magazines at the store for himself, the store he needed was across from the store Y/N was in. He noticed her, standing in front of a mirror, she looked good, but he noticed her cheeks were red, she was almost crying. Then he heard the 3 popular girls walk out “Can’t believe little piggy thinks she will find a dress that will look good on her.” - “No way she finds a guy to take her.” Another one added.  

Dean felt bad for her since she was the only kid in Sam’s class who was nice to him, he walked in the store, the second she saw the older Winchester enter the store she fled to the fitting room. “Y/N? Are you ok?” He placed his ear next to the door, he could hear her sniff. “Yeah, yeah I'm great thanks.” - “Don’t lie to me sweetheart... Is it those girls?” - “They just make fun of me. Nothing special. I’m used to it.” - “It is if it makes you cry.” She didn’t answer. “Why don’t you show me your dress?” Y/N slowly unlocked the door, looking up with teary eyes, Dean still leaning on the fitting room. “They are right, I look ridiculous, I won’t find a dress that fits me.”  

“What are you talking about? You look amazing.” He smiled slightly. “You just say that to make me feel good.” She felt her cheeks glow, afraid to look up. “No, no, no you look stunning in this dress.”, “This one maybe, the others are horrible.” - “Then buy this one.” - “Can’t, too expensive.” Dean’s heart broke. Y/N got back in the dressing room, changed and hung the dress back.  “Hey, why don’t we go get some burgers?” Y/N was surprised. “You want to hang out with me?”  

Dean never really wanted to hang out with Sam and her, he always felt too cool she thought, he always dated the ‘hot girls’ she knew he was a player from what Sam told her, but him being nice to her made her feel good. “Hey eh, why don’t you go in and order already. I have to buy some things for my dad, I’ll be right with you.” - “Sure... You know what you want?” - “I’ll take what you‘ll have.”  

Y/N watched Dean drive off, only to see that the girls from before were at the same diner. Great, she thought. “Keep your head up Y/N, you can do this.” Little did she know Dean went back to the store to buy that dress she liked. He walked into the diner to see the girls standing around Y/N’s table. “ How much do you eat Y/N, no surprise no dress fits you.”  - “It’s for not for me, it’s for Dean.” - “Did you really think a boy would want to be seen with you?” - “Yeah, especially Sam’s hot brother.”  the 2nd girl added. Dean felt the anger boil inside him.  

“There you are sweetheart.” Dean said a little louder than needed, he walked past the three teenage bullies. “Sorry, it was busy at the store.”  He took the place beside her, pulled his arm around her, while his other hand holds her cheek. “Let me make it up to you.”  Without warning he kissed Y/N’s lips. Leaving the other girls stunned. Then he turned to them “Friends of yours?” - “Not really” she said bold, that kiss and his arm made her confident. Dean waved them goodbye, while keeping his arm around her almost for the entire time.  

-- 

Y/N her memory faded when she noticed Dean walking up to her. “Can I get the check?” He asked. “Sure” She smiled. “You know, I never got to thank you.”  - Dean smiled confused, changing the subject “... hey, we are eh, staying in town a little longer. Why don’t you give us a call on your day off.” he wrote his number on a napkin and shoved it forward. “Well, I don’t know.” Dean still looked confused. “Are you planning on kissing me and then leaving me again, Winchester?” she flirted, leaving Dean startled.  

“Ready?” Sam asked dropping a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Eh, yeah, I-I'm ready.” By the time Dean got to the Impala he remembered every detail. He had kissed her to shut those mean girls up, he and Y/N stayed at the diner talked, laughed, way longer than he was planning, he just felt bad for her but the longer he talked to her the more he actually cared for her, by the end Dean realised why Sam likes her so much, she was really smart, funny and mature. She made him smile like no one had done in years.  

-- 

He dropped her off at her house, but not before he kissed her again in the impala, “I, eh heard you have no date to the school dance yet.” He asked nervous. “No, I don’t.” Y/N’s heart was racing and her head spinning, is he really asking her what she thought? “Well, I-If you would like, I have no plans that night...” He looked up at her, she responded by pulling him in for another kiss.  

He opened her door for her, pinned her against the car and asked her not to tell Sam yet. “I want to tell him myself.”  

-- 

“Dean?” - ” Hm?” - “Why so quiet?” Sam asked in the car. “What? Oh nothing, nothing.”  

The next day Sam and Dean split up again, Dean wanted to surprise Y/N after work now he fully remembered. But he saw Y/N and Sam walk out of the diner, holding a milkshake, she had her arm wrapped around Sam’s arm. They were laughing, too involved in their conversation to notice Dean at the corner of the street. He could see the two of them being the perfect item since they were so similar, he for some reason even forgot about her. He decided not to drag himself down and went for a drink at the local pub.  

“You know, you never told me who the guy was who took you to the dance.” Sam casually asked Y/N while taking a seat at the bench in the park. “Wow, he never told you did he?” Sam looked confused. “Dean... He asked me.” - “Dean... my brother Dean?” - “Yeah... Please don’t tell me you’re going to mad at him? It was ages ago.” - “No, oh no not at all, it just makes sense.” Sam laughs sincere. “Why are you laughing?” - “He acted all weird yesterday morning, after seeing you and I can remember he spend all dad’s money, later he admitted it was on a dress for a girl, didn’t want to tell us who. And before leaving he snuck out.“ - “He brought that dress to our front door, with a note, telling you guys were leaving.”  

-- 

The night of the school dance Y/N got nervous, she still had no dress but Dean told her not to worry. “Y/N!” - She heard her dad call out to her “Come down here honey.” The second she got the end of the stairs she saw her dad holding a bag, a black clothing cover. “I think this is for you.” He helped her open it. Y/N recognised the dress immediately. A little note dropped out of the bag. “I’m sorry sweetheart, our dad decided to move today. I wished I could see you in this dress, no doubt you will be the most beautiful girl. D.”  

--  

“Did you go?” - “Sorry?” - “Did you go?” Sam repeated the question. “No, I didn’t. I wanted but it wouldn’t be the same without my best friend.” She said bumping her shoulder to his arm. “You know, I really felt bad when you said you liked someone else.” He admitted looking shy at her. “But I’m glad it was Dean. He is a nice guy.” - “Ha, not what you said years ago.” - “Yeah, well in my defence he did get all the girls, even the once I liked back then.” He bumped her back. “I think he still likes you.” Sam casually said. “What? Oh, come on Sam. It was years ago, he didn’t even recognise me at the diner yesterday.” - “I’m serious Y/N he acts strange, his I like a girl but I'm afraid to say it, strange, call him.” - “You don’t mind?” She asked afraid of his answer. “No, not at all, to be fair, Jess is still in my heart and mind.”  

Sam and Y/N walked back to the diner where she parked her car. “Oh my god... He still drives that impala?” She asked while crossing the street to see the car up close. “Dean’s baby.” - “Great memories.” She said looking inside the car. “Oh please don’t tell me... you two...” Sam looked disgusted. “What?” Then it hit her “Oh god, no Sam! Dean and I, we never did, never...”  Sam looked relieved, he looked around “He is probably in that pub over there.” He pointed out. “It’s now or never Y/N.” He smiled like a child who had a secret. “Fine, I’ll talk to him.”  

Y/N walked in, a little nervous, if Dean really hasn’t changed, he had found himself a hot girl by now. To her surprise he was sitting alone at the bar, drinking a beer while watching the game on the small tv above the bar. 

“Hi stranger.” She smiled while taking the seat next to him. “Mind me sitting here?” Y/N asked when she saw his surprised face. “Yes, I mean no, no please sit.” - “I eh, I saw your car outside thought I’d say hello... Sam and I were at the park, reminiscing about high school. Would have been great if you were there” - “I saw you two when I walked to the diner, didn’t want to interfere your date.” - “Date?! Oh no Sam and I weren’t on a date.” -” Well, I think you two should.” Dean answered looking back at his beer. “Considering your history and both being really similar personalities and all.”  

“I’m afraid a little too similar.” Dean looked up. “Don’t get me wrong, Sam still an amazing person... I like him, but I might still like his older brother a bit more.” Y/N was afraid to look directly in Dean’s eyes when she confessed that. “Even when he didn’t take you to the dance like he promised?” - “Even when he didn’t recognise me.” Dean felt his cheeks burn, “You have changed a lot.”  

“It’s ok, deep down I knew it wasn’t the same for you like it was for me.” Y/N said without feeling any grudges. “At the beginning maybe, but after that day at the diner, after that first kiss...” Dean felt bold admitting this. “Please don’t tell me that you fell for the chubby girl?” - “I did.” - “You never do.” - “Oh I did, I fell hard, I used my dad’s money to buy you that dress! He was pissed!”  

“Sam told me, you didn’t have to get into trouble for me.” - “at least you were the prettiest girl at that dance.” - “I didn’t go.” - “What!” Dean dropped his beer back at the bar. “My date and best friend were abducted by their father, I didn’t want to be alone.” She joked but was serious about the alone part.  

After a few beers Y/N and Dean found themselves still at the bar. Laughing, joking and even flirting. 

“As much as I don’t want this night to end, I have to go. I have an early shift tomorrow.” They both stepped out realizing it was late, the sun had gone down. “Let me drive you.” - “Don’t you think you had a little too much to drink?” - “Bullshit, I can drive get in.” He said while holding her door. Y/N got in and immediately recognized the same smell as all those years ago.  

While driving Dean remembered their last night together.  

-- 

Dean had asked Y/N to go to the movies with him; to his surprise she accepted. During the movie he couldn’t keep his eyes on the screen. He kept looking over at Y/N wondering how to tell Sam he fell for his best friend, for his crush. He felt guilty but couldn’t keep sneaking around with her. “Sam asked me to the dance Yesterday.” She whispered without looking at him. "What did you say?” Dean asked, shifting in his seat, feeling a little nervous.  “That I liked someone else.” He could see her cheeks blushing. While his heart made a jump.  

“Oh really?” - “Uhu, he is handsome, a little older, a real prince charming, I didn’t tell all that to Sam, obviously.” - “Well, tell me who is this prince I need to fight?” he joked while playfull attack her, kissing and licking her neck, which made her giggle. His lips found hers, the kiss deepened “Let’s get out of here.”  

When they walked out of the theatre, holding hands, he saw his dad outside. He pulled her back hushing her with his hand on her mouth. “He has no idea I’m here.” he whispered in her ear. When he was out of side they ran to the car, and Dean drove them to an open spot next to the football pitch at their school. He pulled her closer to him, immediately kissing her again, seemingly not getting enough of Y/N.   

 

His hand moved under shirt, over her stomach, making her clench up and pulling back. 

Dean let go of her “Did I do something wrong?” - “I’m just not really comfortable in my skin.” She admitted shy. “Oh, I'm sorry sweetheart” - “it’s ok, I-I just never. No guy ever touched me like that. Probably because of my... size.” - “Don’t be ridiculous, you look amazing. I don’t get it why no guy ever took a change to be with you before.”  

But Dean held back the rest of the night, making her comfortable again. Keeping it to kissing and touching above the clothes. He didn’t want to push her away, thinking she deserved to know not all man are the same.  

--  

The drive home was quiet and filled with tension. Seeing Dean driving his car made Y/N feeling warm and safe again. He looked the same but at the same time different, broken. He looked at her, noticed her staring. “Like what you’re seeing sweetheart?” She blushed, looking at her hands that were folded on her lap. “Sorry.” - “Don’t be, I like it, reminds me of the good old days.” he jokes.  

“Here we are.” Dean said trying to sound neutral, but his heart beats fast. “Why don’t you come inside for a second, I have something to show you.” Y/N said very enthusiasts.  Dean followed her up to her apartment giving himself a peptalk, thinking this may be the moment. “Wait here.” Y/N’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.  

He looked around, no pictures or signs of a man. “Great!” he mumbled. “What was that?” she asked? Dean flinched “Nothing!” He turned around to see Y/N in the dress he bought for her.  

“Wow” Was all he managed to say. “It’s a little big, I know but I kept it.” She said while looking down at herself, not noticing Dean getting closer, “The first boy I ever loved gave it to me.” She looked up, meeting Dean’s eyes. Feeling the air shifting. “I never thanked you for the dress, did I?” Dean’s eyes flicked from her lips back to her eyes. “No, not really.” his lip pulled up in a half smile.  

“Hm. In that case.” Y/N’s hands moved over his shoulder, neck, to the back of his head, feeling his hair move between her fingers. Pulling him closer. “Thank you.” she whispered against his lips before closing the space with hers. Dean still tasted the same as she remembered, his full lips felt even better than before. Dean’s hands moved up to hold her ribs, pulling her closer to him but letting go of her lips. “Remind me to buy you more dresses.” she smiled before he finds her lips again.  

After a long passioned kiss Y/N spoke again, “I’m going to put on something more, comfy, mind helping me with the zipper?” She asked while turning her back to Dean. Knowing very well what she was doing. Dean moved her hair to one side of her shoulders, kissing the one that was showing, while unzipping her dress, letting it fall on to the floor. His hands roaming over her body, Y/N’s head fell back, letting out a deep breath, while he moved over to that one spot behind her ear.  

“Still as beautiful as I remember.” He whispered in her ear while he held on to her hips. Y/N turned around finding his lips again, walking him back to find the couch. Dean sat down slowly, while Y/N took a seat on his lap, straddling him. Dean’s hands holding her hips, his finger brushing over her ass, it was the first time she paid no attention to her own body, she usually was very well aware of the stretchmarks she had from being fuller, but for some reason Dean made her forget all of that.  

Their kisses deepen, hips grinding, breaths getting heavier, hands roaming each other's body, hungry for more... Until they were interrupted by the sound of Dean’s phone. Dean searched for his phone, “It’s Sam. He can wait.” Dean said tossing the phone on the other side of the couch, only to pull her back in for more, but his phone rang again. “D-Dean, maybe you need to pick up.” Y/N said between kisses. 

Dean sighs picking up the phone, “Sammy?” - “Dean? I found the nest, where are you, I need back up.” - “I eh, I am... I’m on my way.” He said, while looking apologetic to Y/N. - “Brother in need?” she asked still sitting on his lap. “I’m sorry, I really need to go.” He kissed her, holding her face in his hands. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.” he said looking deep in her eyes, just to be sure she knew he meant it. She nodded.  

"I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/N kissed Dean and closed the door behind him, slightly hating Sam for ruing the moment, but over the moon, feeling the same butterflies as she felt all those years ago.  Y/N got ready for bed, Dean promised to have breakfast at the diner tomorrow and to pick her up after her shift, so there was no reason not to get in her pj’s. 

But by the time she got to the bathroom she heard a knock on the door. Smiling she yelled “Forgot something, Dean?” Only to open the door seeing no-one. She stepped outside to feel a presents behind her...  

Dean pulled over at the motel he and Sam stayed, so he could pick up his brother, before taking down the vamps nest. “Really Sam, fighting a nest in the middle of the night, smooth timing!” - “I thought the fast we take them out the quicker we can move on.” the younger brother looked at his sibling putting the weapons and the machetes in the car. “Unless you have a reason to stay.” Dean gave his brother a dead stare before closing the trunk.  

“Did you talk to Y/N yet?” Sam was curious. “Well, since you ask so nicely. We were in the middle of a... conversation, when you called.” he emphasised but keeping his eyes on the road. “That escalated quick.” Sam smirked. “I really think you should give her the benefit of the doubt and think, maybe, just maybe she is your ticket out of this life.” - “And leave you alone? No way.”  

“Think about it Dean, we liked living here. This town, the people we were mad at dad for leaving, again.” - “You were always mad at dad, you left for college.” - “Y/N’s idea.” - “Really?” Dean looked over to his brother this time. “Y/N told you to go study law?” - “No, she told me that we were more than our dad wanted us to be. That we could do what we wanted. Bet she didn’t want you to be in dad’s footsteps.”  

The rest of the ride the brothers were quiet. Sam’s words lingered in Dean’s head. Maybe there was a way to be with Y/N. He could tell her everything, no there was no way he would let her in to this life.  

The Winchesters arrived at the old warehouse where the nest was. When they entered, they immediately saw Y/N tight up to a chair at the back, unconscious. “Good for you to show up, I figured since you two killed my girl, I might just take yours.” One of the vamps spoke. “It’s remarkable how the smell of humas linger on our dead. So easy to track them down. And like today we were very lucky to find us a little surprise.” - “Let her go you son of a bitch!” Dean growled.  

Y/N heard Sam’s voice in a distance. “Y/N? Y/N wake up.” She slowly opened her eyes. “S-Sam? What happened. W-where am I?” She looked around, the haze in front of her eyes disappeared, she saw Dean chopping of the head of the last vampire, making her scream. “Hey, hey sweetheart, you’re ok.” He came running towards her. Y/N was too afraid to react, trying to wrap her head around the things that happened.  Only moments before she lost consciousness again.

Dean carried Y/N to the car, the vampire drank so much blood she felt too weak even to stand on her legs.  

The drive home was filled with awkward silence, Sam kept looking back at her trying to see how she was doing, but Y/N kept looking outside the window, trying to hold back the tears. Dean parked outside the motel they were staying, while Sam tried to help her out of the car. “What are we doing here? I thought you would bring me home?” Dean could hear the fear in her voice.  

“Home isn’t safe now sweetheart.” - “And this motel is?” - “It’s just for the night, tomorrow we check out your place and if it’s safe we can take you home.” Sam answered in his sweet voice. 

Sam supported her while they walked inside, her eyes roaming the place. “If there is anything we can...” - “I would like to take a bath.” She interrupted Dean, still not giving him a look. Y/N grabbed Sam’s arm again, “Can you give me a hand?” Sam looked over at his brother, hesitated before he answered “Eh, yeah sure.”  

Sam filled the tub before helping her with her clothes, in any other situation Y/N would have felt embarrassed but after tonight she didn’t care anymore. Sam held her arm when she stepped in the bath. She could feel the warm water touching her skin, stinging at the small bite marks that covered her body. “Are you going to be ok?” Sam asked before leaving her alone for a minute. “I’m fine Sam, thank you.” Sam left de door slightly open, Dean still stood in the middle of the room, he looked at her while his brother walked toward him, seeing her back all bruised.  

Y/N heard the brothers talk, “Why won’t she talk to me Sammy?” She could hear the pain in Dean’s voice. ” One, she just got ambushed by vampires. And two she saw you chop off someone’s head.” Sam took a deep breath. “She is probably traumatised, look at all the bite marks and bruises on her, they drained her, to the point of fainting. Give her some time.” He whispered knowing Dean meant well. “I’m going to get some painkillers and bandages for her.” He padded his brother’s shoulder. “Be right back.” 

Dean leaned against the bathroom door. “Y/N?... May I come in?” He waited for an answer, but she didn’t respond. Dean slowly walked in kneeling next to her. He slowly lifted his hand to caress her hair. At first, she flinched but the second she truly felt his soft touch, she couldn’t hold back her tears. Dean shifted on to the side of the tub, her head fell against his thigh. He held her hand and stroke her hair with the other, while he whispered to her over and over reassuring words “Shh, you’re going to be ok, I’m here.”  

By the time Sam got back he heard Dean and Y/N talk in the bathroom. As he walked over to take a peek, he saw Y/N in one of Dean’s old shirts while he towel dried her hair, or at least he was trying to. She was asking him questions about what happened, and he answered them honestly. Dean walked Y/N out of the bathroom towards his bed. “You need some sleep, take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.” he said while tucking her in. “Are you sure?” her voice was still very shaky. He kissed her head in response.  

Later that night Y/N woke up from a bad dream or was it a memory. She looked around the room to find something to recognise, seeing Dean sleeping on the couch he looked so peaceful yet in a very uncomfortable position. “Dean? Dean?” She whispered, by the third time he woke up. “Dean?” He woke up startled rushing over to her. What’s wrong?”  

Y/N opened the blankets, gesturing him to lay down next to her, doubtfully he crawled into bed next to her. For a second, they were looking into each other’s eyes. If the circumstanced where different he would have kissed her now. But instead, she pulled herself closer to him, her face was snugged against his shirt, she could hear his steady heartbeat. Dean’s chin touching her hair, he tugged an arm around her pulling her close. She let go of a sigh “I had a bad dream.” She confessed. “I’m here, try to get some sleep.” he kissed her head.  

--

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[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Heat of the Moment

Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: Gabriel tortures Sam with visions of you dying over and over

“Heat of the moment…”

Sam groaned as he lifted his head from his pillow.

“Rise and shine, Sammy!” Dean grinned, much too chipper for so early in the morning.

You groaned next to Sam, pulling your pillow over your head.

“Five more minutes,” you whined.

“Nope, time to go,” Sam huffed as he sat up.

“Not yet,” you huffed. “Please?”

“C’mon honey.” Sam grinned as he poked at your side. “Get up!”

“Hey!” You squealed. “Sammy, no!”

“Then get up!” Sam laughed, tickling your sides.

“I—hI a—ha—AM!” You laughed, squirmed away from your big brother.

“Doesn’t look like it to me,” Sam argued. “What do you think, Dean? You think she’s getting up?”

“Doesn’t look like it, Sammy,” Dean chuckled.

“You-hou’re so mean!” You whined.

“Mean? I’m just helping you wake up,” Sam replied, grabbing your arms with one hand when you tried to hit him, continuing to tickle you with the other.

“Alright Sam, let her get up,” Dean said as your laughter fell silent, your face bright red.

“Ok, ok,” Sam relented, pulling you into his lap.

“You’re mean,” you giggled, burrowing against his chest.

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam ruffled your hair before pulling away. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“I’ll pack the car!” You jumped up, grabbing a few bags and heading for the car.

“She got her energy fast.” Dean chuckled.

“No kidding.” Sam spotted a bag that you’d left behind. “I’m gonna help her.”

“Ok, ok just put it down.” Your frightened voice was the first thing Sam heard as he reached the Impala. He stepped around it to see you, your hands outstretched in front of you, the bags on the ground at your feet. Sam turned to see what you were looking at, only to come face-to-muzzle with a gun.

“Stay back!” The man wielding it yelled, waving the gun from you to Sam, then back to you.

“Ok, ok.” Sam held his hands up in surrender, sidestepping closer to you in an attempt to shield your body with his.

“Stop moving!” The man demanded, pointing the gun at you and…

Bang!

Your body slammed into the Impala after you staggered back from the impact of the bullet. The masked robber dropped the gun in surprise; clearly he hadn’t meant to shoot.

“No!” Sam cried, kneeling down next to your wheezing form.

“Sa-Sam?” You whimpered, your hands searching out his in a panic.

“Hey, hey I’m here,” he soothed, pulling you into his lap. “No no, keep your eyes open sweetheart. This isn’t it, don’t give up, ok?”

You weren’t responding anymore, your eyes drifting shut even as you fought to keep them open.

“No…no!” Sam shook you, but it had no affect as your breathing slowed to a stop. “No…”

“Heat of the moment…”

Sam jolted upright with a gasp.

“Rise and shine, Sammy!” Dean grinned.

“Wha…” Sam looked around, confused. He snapped out of his stupor when you groaned next to him.

“Five more min—“ your whine was cut off when Sam pulled you into his arms. “Sammy, you’re squishing me!”

“Uh, Sam?” Dean questioned Sam’s strange behavior with a raised eyebrow. “You ok?”

“I’m…yeah I’m fine,” Sam breathed, letting you go. “I just…” he trailed off. Just a dream. It had just been a dream.

“I’m gonna go pack the car,” you said, rubbing your eyes as you jumped off the bed.

“No!” Sam yelled, jumping up and standing in front of you. “No, don’t.”

“Uhh…” You looked past Sam and made eye contact with Dean. Dean spoke up for you.

“Ok Sam, what’s going on?”

“Just…just trust me, ok?” Sam said. “Go brush your teeth or something, I’ve got the bags.”

Sam slung the bags over his shoulder, making sure his gun was visible as he stepped outside. It took him only a few seconds to spot the man from his—dream? He was skulking in the corner alleyway, a gun limp in his hands. He stepped away from the wall upon seeing Sam, but disappeared into the shadows when he saw Sam’s weapon.

Now safe, Sam’s mind went back to racing. Was it just a dream? How had he known the guy would be there? Were you safe now?

He had too many questions and no answers, so he decided it was best not to bring anything up to you or Dean.

“So what’s gotten into you?” You asked, a toothbrush hanging from your lips, once Sam came back into the room.

“Nothing, just hungry I guess.” Sam shrugged.

“Sounds good to me,” Dean butted in. “Let’s eat!”

…

“Turn here, Dean.”

“I’m going left, it’s a shortcut,” Dean responded as Sam tried to give directions.

Just as he turned down the side street, a car came backing out of a driveway much too fast.

“Dean, look o—“ your voice was cut off as the car slammed into your door. The Impala spun around, throwing Sam back into his seat. Once the car settled, he quickly took stock of himself and his siblings.

“Dean?” He groaned, and Dean responded with a muttered—

“I’m fine.”

“Y/N?” Sam craned his neck to see you sitting limply in your seat, blood trickling down the side of your head. “Y/N!”

“Heat of the moment…”

Sam sat up with a groan.

“What the…”

“Five more minutes,” you groaned next to him.

“This can’t be happening,” Sam breathed.

“What’s the matter, Sammy?” Dean noticed his brother’s labored breathing and upturned brow.

“Y/N, go brush your teeth,” Sam demanded. You sat up with a groan, punching Sam on the shoulder before begrudgingly obeying.

“Dean, something’s wrong here.”

“You mean besides you?”

“Not funny. I’m serious,” Sam huffed. “It’s like…it’s like this day has happened before.”

“You mean like Groundhog Day?”

“I…I don’t know.” Sam frowned. “But listen, this is the third time I’ve lived through this morning. It keeps starting over!”

“And you’re sure it’s not just…deja vu, or something?”

“Yes Dean, I’m sure. I remember other things, things that haven’t happened today. Like…like Y/N.”

“What about her?” Dean frowned.

“She…she keeps dying.”

Dean stiffened.

“Sam. What are you talking about?”

“I’m starving.” Both boys jumped as you came back into the room. “Can we go eat?”

“Sure,” Sam sighed. “Let’s go.”

He tried hard to ignore the way Dean was staring at him.

…

“Go straight,” Sam instructed as Dean reached an intersection. When Dean started to turn left, Sam grabbed the steering wheel and jammed it straight again.

“Hey!” Dean protested. “It was a shortcut!”

“Don’t.” Sam breathed. “Just don’t.”

He glanced back to see you staring in wide-eyed confusion, but when he looked back at Dean he saw a horrified understanding in his big brother’s eyes.

…

“Finally, food,” you said as you jumped out of the car and headed inside.

“Hey, wait!” Sam ran to catch up to you, Dean trailing behind him. Sam was on edge, and Dean was struggling to figure out how seriously he should take this. Reoccurring days? It sounded ridiculous, yet the thought that you could be in danger kept Dean from completely dismissing it.

To Sam’s visible relief, the three of you made it into the diner without incident.

“Pancakes!” You blurted out before the waitress could even ask. Dean ordered the same, with a side of sausage, and Sam distractedly muttered,

“Just coffee.”

“Are you ok?” Sam seemed to snap out of it when he saw you looking at him. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m alright,” he promised with a fake smile. You looked to Dean for an explanation, but he wouldn’t meet your eye.

Your confusion was forgotten, however, when your pancakes arrived. The thought had barely crossed Sam’s mind that he should tell you to slow down your eating, when you started to choke.

“Hey.” Sam was out of his booth seat and by your side in an instant, patting your back in an attempt to dislodge the food stuck in your throat. It didn’t work, and he was forced to watch as your lips turned blue and your face went ashen.

“No no no.” Sam’s distress only lasted a manner of short minutes before—

“Heat of the moment…”

Sam tried everything after that. The three of you went to four different breakfast places, he tried to keep you in the motel all day, he tried to skip food altogether and just get on the road…

He was running out of things to try.

He’d seen you choke on pancakes, bacon, water, seemingly nothing (you were apparently bad at breathing today). He’d seen you get hit by a car, a bus, a kid on a bike (you were now very fragile). You’d tripped over a sidewalk, a dog’s foot, the air (you were also clumsy).

He didn’t know what else to do, or how else to save you. It was as if the universe didn’t want you to be saved.

Then one day, something changed. As he was yet again leading you and Dean towards the Impala (he stopped letting you go in front of him after that one time you got hit by a car), he noticed the motel desk worker through the window. He must have seen the guy a thousand times without really looking at him, so why was he catching Sam’s eye now? Then Sam saw it; the man was wearing a ludicrously ugly green jacket.

The jacket had been red before.

“That guy!” Sam pointed.

“What about him?” You asked, craning your neck to see.

“His jacket. It’s not red.”

“And we care about this why?” Even Dean was confused.

“Because yester—I mean, today—I mean, before…whatever, it was red! And now it’s green.”

“He changed,” you said, frowning. “Why is this a problem?”

Dean eyed Sam over your shoulder, and Sam knew he understood now. Sam had explained everything to him for the thousandth time while you were in the shower. Nothing changed, not on this day.

“You think it’s something?” Dean asked. He was still skeptical about Sam’s story, but he was willing to follow his little brother’s lead.

“It is. It has to be.”

Dean nodded.

“Lead the way.”

…

“What’s going on?” The man in the green jacket asked in a shaky voice as Sam held him up against the wall.

“I’d like to know that too,” you added.

“Make it stop!” Sam ordered as he lifted the man off his feet.

“Whoa, hey, what?” The man asked.

“You heard him,” Dean spoke up. “We know you’re the one doing it.”

“We know what you are,” Sam said. “No one could be powerful enough to do this except a trickster. We’ve killed one of you before.” Sam wielded a stake covered in lamb’s blood. “And I’ve kept this around just in case it needed to happen again.”

“Not…again,” the man’s face twisted into a grin, before his features shifted.

“The trickster?” Your eyes were wide as you looked from your brother’s to the man you all thought was dead. “What’s going on here?”

“Why are you doing this?” Dean demanded.

“Because it’s fun,” the trickster laughed. “Watching you run around like a maniac trying to save your little sister from inevitable doom? It’s hilarious.”

“Trying to what?” You asked. “What’s he talking about?”

“Yeah, well why just Sam? How come I don’t have repeating days?” Dean asked.

“Oh, you haven’t figured it out? It’s really quite poetic if you think about it. Especially since you’ve kept her in the dark about all this, just like she’s in the dark about another little secret of yours.”

Sam and Dean met each other’s eye. This was about Dean’s demon deal. Dean had made Sam swear not to tell you, because he wanted to do it when the time was right. The secret had been torturing both of them for far too long.

“So, Dean’s left useless in this scenario, your poor little sister doesn’t even know what’s happening, and you, Sam…” the trickster grinned. “Without the help of your big brother, you can’t even begin to know how to take care of that little girl.”

“What’s he talking about?” You demanded. “What secret? Why can’t Dean help? What don’t I know?” Your voice got high and frantic. “Guys, what’s happening?”

“I think that’s my cue,” the trickster chuckled. “After all, you three have a lot to talk about. And if you don’t…I’ll be back.” The man disappeared from under Sam’s grasp, but he didn’t have long to wonder where the man went…

“But you better promise me, I’ll be back in time…”

“What…” Sam groaned as he sat up.

“Do we have to go already?” You huffed from next to him.

“No Asia…” he muttered, before turning to look at the clock. “It’s Wednesday!”

“Yeah, that’s what comes after Tuesday,” you said as you sat up.

“What do you remember?” Sam asked both you and Dean as Dean stepped out of the bathroom.

“You were saying the days were repeating…” Dean struggled to remember.

“The trickster,” you spoke up. “He was here. What did he want?” You looked to Sam for answers, but when he avoided your gaze you turned to Dean, who was equally unwilling to meet your eyes. “What did he mean about a secret?”

“Honey, I gotta talk to you,” Dean sighed as he sat on the edge of Sam’s bed. “It’s about…it’s about how Sam came back after he got stabbed.”

“You said he got better,” you spoke softly, the looks on your brothers’ faces making your voice quaver in fear. “You said it wasn’t that bad.”

You had been staying with Ellen and Joe when Dean went to look for Sam, so the news hadn’t gotten to you until Dean told you when he returned.

“I lied.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Sweetheart, I…I died,” Sam reached over and held your hand.

“Then how—“

“I…sold my soul. To bring him back.” Dean stared hard at the bed, unwilling to lift his gaze. “The demon gave me a year.”

“A year?” You shook off Sam’s hand as you jumped up. “You-you…” you took deep breaths as you struggled to get the words out. “You’re going to hell?”

Neither brother spoke.

“And you knew?” You looked at Sam, who lowered his eyes. You turned back to Dean. “Both of you…just kept this from me?”

“I was going to tell you,” Dean argued, finally looking up. “I just couldn’t find…it wasn’t…”

“There’s really no good opportunity to mention that you’re going to hell, Dean! That’s why you just say it!”

“Hey, look, I know, ok?” Dean pleaded. “I know, and I’m sorry. Just…just please, I don’t want to fight. You know now, that’s what matters, can we just…”

You took a deep breath, turning away from your brothers so they wouldn’t see the tears streaming down your face as you struggled to collect your thoughts. You didn’t want to stop being mad at Dean, but you also didn’t want to be mad at Dean. He wasn’t being fair to you, asking you to just forgive and forget when he and Sam both lied to you. But it didn’t feel fair to him to keep being angry when you knew he just wanted to protect you.

And when you knew that he was going to be dead in a matter of months. You couldn’t stay mad, not when you had so little time with him.

”Y/N?” Sam spoke up. “Honey, say something, please.”

“Ok,” you choked out as you turned back to your brothers. “Ok, we won’t fight.” You took two steps towards Dean, and he met you with open arms, folding you into an embrace.

“It’s gonna be ok,” he promised. “You’re gonna be just fine.”

Taglist:

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[welldonebeca]

One Wife for Two Brothers

Summary: The infamous Winchesters brothers are in your village, and the old ladies in town won't stop gossiping about how they are looking for an Omega. You are happy to offer yourself to the role. Warnings: Vaginal fingering. Smut. Teasing. Seduction. A/B/O dynamics.

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Masterlist

You swept the floor of the church clean in a silent trance, humming a hymn to yourself while other women whispered to themselves in a corner.

"Hey," you called. "If you are not going to clean, just go talk outside. It will make my job easier."

Mrs Harvelle threw a look in your direction, pressing her lips in a worried look.

"Come here, kid," she called. "Come listen to us."

"Ellen," Mrs Mills hissed.

"You know she needs to know, Jody," she nearly barked back.

Mrs Mills didn't look pleased and you sighed, not wanting to get another scolding from your father for ignoring your chores to listen to gossip, but the trio of women practically pulled you to stand with them.

"She is too young to even know of any of this, Ellen!" she protested.

"She is nineteen," Mrs Harvelle argued, keeping a tight grip around your elbow. "My girl is younger and I already taught her what she needs to know about them."

Them?

"Who is them?" you frowned.

"Those Winchester boys," Mrs Harvelle told you.

The name rang a bell, and you just frowned more. They were Alphas from a clan that lived a day away from your town. They would often come to represent their group in legal situations and to buy things they couldn't produce.

You hadn't heard much from them, honestly, only what your father always said. He called them heretics who followed the old ways, prayed under the moon and were rumoured to still be able to shift into wolves - something that had been lost for centuries now.

Rogue Alphas who followed no human laws.

Aside from the rumours, though, they never seemed to cause any trouble. You had never heard of them disrespecting anyone, or doing anything to earn such a reputation.

And yet, people still feared them.

"Some people said they are looking for a mate," Mrs Mills told you.

"Well, they can forget it," Mrs Harvelle growled. "No Omega in this town will sign themselves away to be their breeding bitch."

You swallowed down and she scowled.

"My Jo said she isn't leaving the house until they are gone," she shot you a look. "You should do the same thing. It's safer."

Jo had just turned 15, you doubted she would even want to think of that.

You didn't know what to think of it. So far, you hadn't even thought about marriage, much less mating.

"Be careful," Miss Hanscum told you.

And then, just as soon as they had pulled you closer, they pushed you back into work, leaving you alone to finish cleaning the church.

You were just two benches away from the door and the sun was almost down when you heard it opening loudly, and heavy steps - that you didn't recognise - walked inside.

"My father is gone," you warned them. "He won't be back until..."

You stopped midway as you looked at who it was, stunned to see the tall and large figure at the door, an imposing man with eyes that caught the light and bigger than any other you had ever seen in your life.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, face soft. "I just came here to pray."

His scent hit your nose, and you weren't surprised.  He was an Alpha - and a very good smelling one.

"It's... fine," you mumbled.

He nodded, and stepped on the carpet, cleaning his boots before taking the furthest seat from you and sitting right in the front, on the other side of the church, maybe hoping it wouldn't disturb your cleaning.

You waited a bit and pretended to have to clean a different spot, trying to take a better look at him as he prayed with his eyes closed.

His clothes weren't too well stitched and looked like they were redone several times to fit his size, as if he had grown faster than he was supposed to. He was just so muscular.

You had never seen an Alpha looking so...  traditional.

Whoever this man was, he looked like he had come straight out of history books. You were shocked that his fingers didn't have claws or his ears didn't have fur.

Though it wasn't like you could see his ears with his long, luscious hair.

You froze, a little embarrassed when you realised you were staring. Why were you so fixated on him, why did you even care about his hair?

Alpha opened his eyes and stared right at yours, and you had to will your knees not to buckle.

"Are you from the Winchester clan?" you asked.

His lips curled in a teasing smile.

"Yes," he confirmed.

His big hand moved to his side, and he patted the seating spot by his side.

Any warnings to stay away just flew away from your head.

You rubbed your thighs together as you followed his silent instructions, sitting at the bench right by his side, eloped by his delicious scent, and tried not to let yourself be tempted.

You were a smart Omega and weren't going to fall into the lap of the first alpha with soft-looking hair and kind eyes and big hands that looked like they could dwarf both of yours...

"So… you pray?” you asked. “I thought you believed in your moon god."

He chuckled.

"We do, as a clan," Alpha explained. "But I like to believe all gods have a reason to be respected. Maybe this one will be nice and help my brother find us an inn that will let us stay the night."

You laughed a bit.

"Maybe we can pray together?" you offered. "It can't hurt to try."

He smiled and took your hands, moving so that he could face you, and you did the same.

"Close your eyes," he whispered.

You obeyed, but you couldn't quite do anything as close to praying.

Instead, you could only think of his scent, of how it was all around you. Could he scent you?

Maybe he could scent how you were getting wet by just breathing his scent in alone.

"What is your name?" he asked, breath so close to your neck you could almost feel his lips on your skin. "And why are you trying to tempt me in such a holy place?"

. . .

. . .

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. . .

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Supernatural Kinky Fics (+18): @stoneyggirl2 @phoenixblack89 @that-dark-girl

[pnwvegan]

Early bird gets the worm

Sam Winchester Smut

Sam Winchester x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut! 18+

Summary: Sam wakes you up in the middle of the night to satisfy an itch he simply can’t scratch by himself.

It was three A.M, you were sound asleep with Sam’s arm around you. Unknown to you, Sam was wide awake with a big problem. He tried to palm his “problem” but decided it was too hard to deal with himself. He leaned over your sleeping frame and whispered in your ear,

“If I don’t fuck you, I’m going to explode.” You shuddered in your sleep. You stretched, rubbing you ass on his arousal unintentionally, eyes remaining closed. Sam sighed and leaned over once more. He nibbled your ear then started kissing your neck, whispering in your ear the second time,

“Come on baby, I need you so bad right now.” As he begged, your eyes fluttered open. You turned to look at him and saw he was flushed and his forehead glistened with a small bead of sweat.

“What is it baby?” You asked, still sleepy. He took your hand and placed it on his dick, whispering,

“Please” he was rock hard, making you wonder if it was painful. You rubbed him slowly through his pants and the way his head shot back, while letting out a groan answered your question.

“What do you need love?” You asked, palming him slowly. He hissed through his teeth, you smirked knowing what you do to him. He hesitated, you urging him to go on,said,

“Can I be inside you?” His puppy dog eyes extra pleading, you couldn’t resist those eyes usually, but now it would hurt you just as much as him if you said no. And you were honestly as turned on as him, your wetness prominent. You grabbed his hand,letting it run down your stomach,

“Go ahead,” you nodded, his hand meeting your heat. He starts to kiss your neck, rubbing your clit, you moaning into the pillow. The friction making your stomach burn with desire. Before you knew it, Sam put two fingers in you. You gasped in response, him chuckling against your neck.

“You love when I make you feel good, don’t you baby? Who’s my good girl?” And that’s what did it for you, your eyes rolled back and you tightened around his fingers, but Sam wasn’t taking just that response this morning. He put his fingers in your mouth, you sucking your juices off him and he asked again with raised eyebrows,

“What was that? Who’s my good girl?” His fingers lingered down to your throat, applying just enough pressure so that you could still talk.

“Yours, only yours” you replied. He nibbled your ear, smirk still prevalent on his face. He whispered in your ear once more,

“You ready for me baby? Will you take my cock please?” The begging tone returning his to voice only made you wetter, if that were possible.

He turned your chin towards him and kissed you deeply, you gasping in his mouth when he pushes himself inside you.

“You’re so big Sammy”

“You can take it” he said as he kisses your nose. Him filling you completely, you reached your arms out, clawing at the sheets as Sam pushed against your hips. He then got on his knees and positioned you on all fours, bouncing your ass against his hips. The new angle deep enough to make you scream his name as you came. Sam came seconds later, his body now relaxing, his painful erection now a memory now only remembered with pleasure instead.

An hour later as you laid on Sam’s chest, you signed with contentment.

“That was so good babe,” you muttered breathlessly, he smiled and said

“What can I say? Early bird gets the worm.”

A/N: Hope you all enjoy! Let me know what you think 😁