#imagine Supernatural

[frost-queen]

Family Business //part 4 (Reader!Winchester x Spencer Reid)

Forever tag: @missmelodramatic​, @theletterhart​, @alex--awesome--22​, @elllie-does-the-posts​, @floatlosers​, @merlieve​, @queen-of-books​, @glimmering-darling-dolly​, @denkisclown​, @wildieflower​, @meyocoko​, @bubblybrianna​, @justanothercoco​ @idkwhatmyusernam,  @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23​, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr​, 

Summary: The BAU closing in on you stirs up a lot of emotions. Will they finally have their clutches on you or can you stay out of the approaching danger?  [Series list]

Heavy breaths filled the forest. The trees passing by like smudged paintings. Your arms moving around with the movement of your running. Hounds growling and snapping their mouths not far behind. Flashes of flashlights illuminating your path. You avoided running in a straight line, but it was useless. The dogs had already picked up your scent. Stuck in their noses that pulled them in like a lifeline. 

Muffled voices echoed through the woods as you could only distinguish the tone in their voice. Ducking down from a low hanging branch, you nearly cut your arm at a sharp edge. Freedom was too far out of reach to make it. This might be your final run. Your breath forming like a cloud in front of you as you moved to the right of the forest. In the distance you spotted red and blue lights. 

More voices came from somewhere in front of you, forcing you to take a turn, running east. Chased down like a prey by hounds and men. The voices became louder as they were closing in on you. You could sense it as the little hairs in your neck spiked up. They were closing in on you. circling around you like a swarm.

You groaned loud, running on adrenaline. Your heart pumping faster to provide your organs with the fuel they needed. – “Y/n Winchester!” – you suddenly heard loud and clear. You could recognize that voice from anywhere. It was Hotch. Spencer’s chief. You stopped briefly, looking over your shoulder. There you saw him running over followed by a few policemen holding the rabid hounds. Snapping their mouths in your direction. Turning your head you saw Morgan approach from the side, gun up. – “Stay where you are Y/n!” – Morgan shouted, fingers firm around his gun. You moved a bit back, greeted with Prentiss. – “Y/n don’t do this.” – she said aiming for you. 

You felt trapped as from all four sides, you were blocked. You couldn’t just surrender yourself. Not to them. Not to the BAU. You made brief eye contact with Hotch. He slowly shook his head, keeping his stern expression up. – “Hands up Y/n.” – Morgan spoke forcing you to do so. You kept them down, slowly moving your hand to your back. Keeping your focus on Hotch.  – “Y/n!” – He shouted re-aiming his gun at you. Your chest rose heavily with pain in your eyes. Then there was a shot. Bang!

24h earlier

Cars drove by as the impala stood at the side of the road. A map laid out on the hood. Sam and Dean hovered over it. You leaned against the car door eating a sandwich you bought in one of those small gas station / shops at the side of the road. Spencer was in the car searching for his jacket as he found it rather chilly this morning. It was after all 6 in the morning. You turned your head seeing him crawl back out. Feet and bottom sticking out first. – “Got it.” – he said victoriously, showing you, his jacket. 

You gave him a smile as a reply. He shut the door of the back seat. You watched him put on his jacket, hesitant as one arm was already in. – “Oh, are you chilly Y/n? You seem chilly.” – he observed from the way you gently rubbed your hand against your arm. Spencer was already taking his jacket off to give to you when you received another one. You frowned turning to your right. Dean holding his jacket out for you. – “Put this on!” -  he insisted. 

You took his jacket. – “You can keep yours, thank you Spence.” – you told him, laying the half-eaten sandwich aside. – “Hey not on the car!” – Dean protested, taking your sandwich off his car. You shrugged your shoulders, putting his jacket on. It was warm from his body heat. Spencer lowered his gaze, putting his jacket back on.

You took your sandwich back from your brother who held it in sight, arms stretched out to you. – “So where to?” – you asked coming to stand in between of your brothers. Spencer coming to. He felt a bit left out and wanted to be included once more. He came standing behind you, sliding his arms around your waist, closing you in. He let his chin rest on your shoulder to have a closer look of the map. – “I really have no idea…” – Sam sighed scratching his chin. 

“At this point I feel as if nowhere is safe.” – Dean tilted his head to take a better view of the mapping. – “I mean we’re not dealing with some lazy cops. The BAU tracks serial killers for a living. If they can find them, they can find us.” – Sam continued. – “It’s true.” – Spencer spoke. – “Garcia is the best at finding those that want to remain unfound. I’m surprised they haven’t showed up yet.” – you elbowed Spencer in the rib. 

Now was not the time to lessen your chances. – “I just think they should know what kind of trouble we are in.” – Spencer spoke fully ignoring your plead to silence. – “We.” – Dean spoke letting his finger move from Sam to you and him. – “Not you, us. Remember this is your mess profiler.” – Dean said making Spencer lift his head up. – “I know…” – he replied, turning his head away. – “And I have regretted it ever since.”

“If you perhaps told me sooner, I wouldn’t have…” – he said to you. Your eyes widened spinning sharply in his embrace. – “I’m sorry? If I told you, you’d had send me to therapy!” – you spoke back, removing his hands from you. Sam nudged Dean to give you some space. Dean collected the map, following Sam to the back of the car. – “I wouldn’t have send you to therapy.” – Spencer answered. – “Oh really!” – You sarcastically replied. – “So you are saying, you Spencer Reid the man of facts and logic would’ve believed me when I said ��hey darling how was your day, oh by the way my brothers hunt monsters, and so did I before I met you. Here’s your mail’.” – you called out making Spencer roll his eyes at you. 

“You would’ve laughed in my face and ask about my sanity.” – you continued. – “If you had explained it better I perhaps would’ve understood more and not put us in this mess.” – Spencer answered loudly. – “I am not the one who called the BAU into this!” – you shouted. Spencer folded his hands, lowering his gaze. – “Can we please not fight.” – he begged knowing this conversation was taking a dreadful turn of pointing fingers. You took a deep breath to calm yourself. Turning on your heel, you went for the backseat. – “Everything okay Y/n?” – Dean asked as you had opened the door. – “Fine!” – you snapped at him, getting in.

Spencer exhaled deep feeling awful in an instant. He moved around the car to the other door. Meeting Sam on his way. – “Hey, keep your head up Spencer. We’re all just a bit on edge.” – Sam reassured him with a pat against his arm. Spencer nodded, getting in the back with you. He glanced your way, but you refused to look back. Dean started the car, driving off. By midday sat you in a motel room off the road. Dean and Sam cleaning their guns at the table. 

Spencer’s phone went. He looked at the screen seeing who called him. He tried to make eye contact with you, but you didn’t respond yet. He swallowed moving a bit away to pick up the phone. – “Reid!” – he said even though the person calling him already knew that. – “Is your personal business handled?” – Hotch asked on the other end of the phone. Spencer moved his head a bit further into the room to catch a glimpse of you in the sofa. – “No… why…” – he answered trying not to sound shaky. 

“We… need you, Reid. You know the Winchesters best. Garcia has been tracking them for days now. We’ve found camera footage of them near a gas station two days ago. We are landed ten minutes ago, if you could meet us, that would be great.” – Spencer listened with worry in his heart. – “We really could use your brains, Reid. I…I know it might be hard for you since… since you and Y/n well…” – Hotch didn’t need to explain any further. Hotch sighed deep on the other end of the phone. – “We need you Reid to have this handled swiftly and smooth.”

“I…I…can’t help you…” – Spencer answered, staring at you. Finally you returned his gaze with furrowed brows. – “I… can’t… not like this…” – he spoke seeing you get up and approach. You motioned to him if it was his team. Spencer nodded slowly. – “I’m sorry Hotch… I can’t…. you’ve got to stop the chase. It’s not them…” – Spencer told him, staring into your eyes. – “You told us yourself it was them. If they had nothing to do with it, their innocence can be proven with an interrogation… but Reid, I must tell you we found their blood on the scene. It is no coincidence.” – Hotch explained. 

Spencer briefly closed his eyes with a heavy heart. – “I know…” – he answered, already knowing that. – “My offer still stands.” – Hotch said. – “We loved to see you return for this Reid.” – Spencer moved the phone down, ending the call. – “And?” – you asked anxious. Spencer swallowed hard, looking over at your brothers. – “I…I…” – he exhaled loud, moving his hand over his face. – “Just spit it out!” – Dean insisted, his fist pressed onto the table. – “Camera footage from that gas station two days ago got in Garcia’s radar.” – he informed calmly. – “My team is already at the scene, drawing in closer to us.” – Dean got up from his chair furious. Sam jumping up to hold his brother back. – “So you are to say me that we are being circled as we speak?” 

Spencer nodded at Dean’s question. – “What else?” – you asked seeing there was more he was hiding. – “At the scene of the murder… where I…” – Spencer stopped talking, lowering his gaze remembering his own actions. He needn’t more words as everyone knew what day he was speaking of. – “They found your blood on the scene Y/n… on the victim…” – you gasped taking a step back. You didn’t even remember getting hurt from fighting that monster, but perhaps you were. – “They are determined to arrest you.” – Spencer finished.

“And blame me for murder?” – you filled in with disbelieve. It was now Dean’s turn to hold Sam back. Who was ready to fight Spencer to out his rage at. – “How long do you know this information?” – Sam shouted, puffing his chest. – “A while…” – Spencer confessed since there was no use in lying. – “So… so I am doomed to hang for murder.” – you called out, your knees going shaky. – “Y/n No!” – Spencer replied approaching you. – “I will do anything in power to prevent that.” – he wrapped his arms around you. 

You punched your fist against his shoulder. – “I’m sorry… I’m sorry Y/n.” – he told you, keeping you tight in his embrace. You stopped punching him, breaking down on his shoulder. – “No matter what I do, I can’t keep the tag of my back.” – you cried against his chest. – “This is all my fault…” – Dean spoke. – “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have called you back. If I hadn’t… you’d wouldn’t get sucked back into our shitty family business.” – You turned to Dean, shaking your head.

“I made my choice…” – You let go of Spencer to hug your brothers. After some take-out went you all to bed. Spencer slipped under the covers as you moved over to him. He moved his arms around you, you laying your head on his bare chest. – “I promise I’ll figure it out Y/n.” – he mumbled, letting his fingers stroke through your hair. You hummed loud staring at the wall. Spencer’s hand slid down to your back, taking a deep breath. – “I’m not letting you be blamed for murder.”

You lifted your head up, arm resting on his chest. – “We have no way of proofing my innocence Spence. We were there. There is nothing left of the monster.” – you told him drawing little circles on his chest with your finger. – “I’ll figure it out… you know I will.” – he kept his hand behind your head, fingers intertwined with your hair. – “I hope so…” – you answered with a faint smile. Letting your gaze go from his eyes to his lips, you leaned in closer. Spencer parted his lips to you, fully accepting your kiss. It felt like the kiss hid many emotions. 

Emotions you dared not to speak off. Somewhere in the middle of the night, you woke up. Spencer vast asleep beside you. You kissed his cheek before slipping out of the bed. Putting on your clothes, you snuck out of the room. The motel room was eerie silent. Too silent. You needed to think, put your head straight. With one last glance, left you the motel, going for a night walk. You wandered off into the woods across from the motel. The neon sign flickering Mtel vacacy avlable. A few words not lighting up.

Bang. Spencer shot awake. Sitting up, he let his hand slide across the matrass. Once feeling that it was empty and cold, panicked he. – “Y/n!” – he called out, moving his hands desperately over the matrass as if he simply misplaced you. – “Y/n!” – he repeated loud, throwing the covers off. He got out of bed, running out of the room. Switching the light on, he looked around hastily. 

“Y/n!” – he shouted moving to the bathroom. It was empty making his heartbeat faster with worry. Another door opened, Dean and Sam popping their head out. – “What’s with the noise profiler?” – Dean asked still very sleepy. – “Y/n! She’s not here.” – he blurted out in a panic, throwing some pillows away. Dean suddenly was awake, eyes wide. He ran to the front door, opening it. – “Y/n!” – he yelled loud, his voice scraping from the intensity.

You dropped to the ground, hearing footsteps approach. Morgan knelt beside you, putting your hands behind your back. – “I’m sorry Y/n…” – he said cuffing you. – “You are under arrest.” – he filled in, helping you up your feet. You let your head hang following his lead. The dogs barking dangerously in your direction, luckily still on their leash. You lifted your head up, coming in contact with Hotch. His expression contracted with conflict and determination. You received a shove, guided towards the police cars on the road.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[canyouimaginethatstory]

Wrongfully Accused Part 15 (Lucifer X Reader)

PART 1: Here  PART 2: Here PART 3: Here PART 4: Here PART 5: Here PART 6: Here PART 7: Here PART 8: Here PART 9: Here PART 10: Here PART 11: Here  PART 12: Here   PART 13: Here  PART 14: Here

Later that day when you got home you did what you always did when you were upset or angry and needed to channel it. You got out one of your canvases and your best paints. You made yourself a drink and got comfy on the couch as you started to paint. A little while later your phone rang. It was Lucifer. "Hey," you answered. He could pick up on your mood just by your tone.

"That bad huh?" he asked.

"Yep, Sam handled it well but you know Dean," you said.

"how about I pick up dinner for us and we just spend the rest of the night inside," he suggested and you smiled.

"That sounds amazing," you said, "don't forget something sweet,".

"I'd never forget you beautiful," he replied and you couldn't fight the smile that appeared on your face. After you hung up and decided to put your painting away, for now, you went ahead and picked a movie and had two glasses and a bottle of fancy cider ready on the table when Lucifer arrived with Chinese takeout and a chocolate cheesecake.

"Oh nice choices," you said giving him a hello kiss.

"Just let me grab a quick shower and we'll eat beautifully," he said placing the food on the counter in the kitchen.

"Hm, feel like some company for the shower?" you asked with an innocent smile on your face.

"Lead the way gorgeous," he said as you took his hand and headed for the bathroom. After your much needed shower, you two got comfy on the couch and enjoyed dinner. You two were cuddled up watching the movie. "I think since you took a big step today that it's my turn to take one," Lucifer said. You shifted so you can look at him.

"What step are you thinking of taking?" you asked.

"Well you finally faced your brothers and told them about me," he said kissing the back of your hand softly, "so I think I need to finally face my past. I'm gonna go to the book event,". You sit up and took his hands in yours. "I'll be right there with you," you said before giving him a kiss on the cheek. A few days later Lucifer was at work. It had been a busy day. Cars seemed to show up one after another but he didn't mind. He could use the money. 

"Shurley!" Bobby called, "Come in my office for a moment!". Lucifer grabbed his grease rag to wipe his hands as he hurried into Bobby's office.

"Yeah Bobby?" he asked leaning against the door frame.

"Why don't go on home for the day?" Bobby suggested. Lucifer was a little confused.

"Why should I go home?" he asked.

"Your father is coming in with a car," he said, "I didn't think you'd want to be around him,".

"I can just hang out in the crew room until he leaves," Lucifer said as there was a knock on the door.

"Hey Bobby," Dean greeted before he spotted Lucifer. Lucifer just looked back.

"I'll go see about the last few cars Bobby," he said as he went to leave.

"Shurley wait," Dean ordered, "we need to talk,".

"We really don't Dean," he said.

"Yes we do," he said anger clear in his tone, "I want you to leave my little sister alone,".

"Nort gonna happen," Lucifer said standing his ground.

"You will leave my little sister alone!" he ordered getting in Lucifer's face, "she can do better than some ex-con loser like you!". Against every fiber of Lucifer's body telling him to fight back he just took a slow breath.

"You know what Bobby?" he said stepping back from Dean with a smile, "I think I will take the rest of the day off. My girlfriend hasn't been feeling well so I should be taking care of her," with that he headed out.

"You just wait you son of a bitch!" Dean said going after him but Bobby stopped him by pushing him back into the office.

"That's enough Dean!" Bobby said making him sit down.

"No Bobby I don't like this!" Dean said running his hand through his hair, "He is not right for her!" "Dean you don't even know them together so you can't really make that call," Bobby pointed out as he leaned against his desk.

"I don't need to know them together!" he said standing up, "I know him and he is not good enough for Y/N!" he stormed out as Bobby just shook his head. You were sound asleep on your couch when the sound of a slamming door woke you up. You looked around but didn't see anyone. You figured maybe it was from Lucifer's apartment so you got up and walked out into the hall. You knocked on the door.

"Babe?" you called, "are you home?" He opened the door and you could tell he was a little upset. "What's wrong?" you asked caressing his cheek.

"You're brother stopped by the shop today," he explained, "got in my face. I walked away so nothing happened,". You sighed.

"I'm sorry," you said, "he can be a jerk,".

"Y/N are you sure you want me to come between you and your family?" he asked. You took his hand and sit down on the couch with him.

"Lucifer, you are not coming between me and my family in any way. If my brother can't accept you that's his issue. I love you, and thats all that matters,". He pulled you into his lap and hugged you close as he kissed your cheek.

"I love you too," he said as he gently rubbed your stomach, "are you feeling any better?".

"Still a little bleh, but yeah a little bit,". He gently swept you up bridal style causing you to giggle a little as he carried you back to your apartment. After making sure you were comfortable on the sofa he headed into the kitchen to make you some soup as you watched TV. The next day when lunchtime rolled around you barged into Sam's office where you knew Dean would be.  "We need to talk," you said, "now,".

"Y/N don't start," he said rolling his eyes.

"Don't start!" you crossed your arms, "you started when you got up in Lucifer's face yesterday while he was at work!".

"Really Dean?" Sam shook his head.

"I can't help it!" he said, "Y/N he's bad news,".

"No Dean, you just like almost everyone else in this town are too busy kissing his dad's ass to see beyond what his dad has made him out to be. I'm telling you this one more time. Back off or we will no longer be talking," and with that you stormed out.

MASTER LIST: Here

PROMPT EVENT: Here

REQUEST INFO: Here

1K FOLLOWER WORD PROMPT EVENT: Here

[little-big-fan]

Imagine com Sam Winchester.

n/a: esse é um pedido da juu! Ela já leu, mas espero que vocês também gostem

Sam’s pov. 

Respirei fundo enquanto observava Dean pela janela, ainda na volta do Impala quase destruído. Caminhei até a cozinha, onde Bobby estava sentado em frente ao computador, com uma caneca de café a sua frente. 

Nos olhamos quando o barulho de uma discussão veio da sala, andamos rápido até lá, encontrando Dean que discutia com uma garota. Ela era um pouco menor que ele, cabelos castanhos não muito escuros, e encarava Dean com um olhar de puro ódio.

— Você costuma invadir a casa dos outros assim, garota? — Ele dizia, segurando seu braço, tentando impedi-la de avançar mais na casa.

— Me solta, porra! — Ela praticamente rosnou, virando o rosto para mim e Bobby, como em um pedido de ajuda.

— Dean, solta ela. — Dean suspirou alto, fazendo o que o mais velho mandou.— O que está fazendo aqui? — Bobby disse, enquanto a garota se jogava em uma das poltronas muito velhas.

— Nossa, eu também estou feliz em te ver. — Ela disse com ironia.

— Você sabe que não estou dizendo que não. — Bobby suspirou. — Mas você deveria estar em...

— Eu larguei a faculdade. — A garota o interrompeu, se levantando da poltrona. 

— Como é que é? — Bobby estava vermelho, furioso. A cena era muito estranha, e os dois pareciam não lembrar da minha presença e de Dean na sala.

— Eu já aprendi tudo o que precisava. — A garota deu de ombros.

— Bobby... — Dean começou, mas o mais velho ergueu a mão, demonstrando que não queria que ninguém se metesse. A garota andava pela sala, como se a discussão não estivesse acontecendo, e Bobby parecia a ponto de ter algum tipo de ataque.

— Você não pode simplesmente largar a faculdade! — Bobby praticamente gritou.

— E por quê não? — Ela perguntou o encarando, — Medicina não é pra mim… 

— s/n! — O mais velho disse alto, tirando o boné da cabeça para puxar os cabelos ralos.

— Pai! — Ela disse no mesmo tom.

— Peraí. — Dean interrompeu. — Pai? Você tem uma filha? — Disse parecendo confuso. 

— Ah, claro. — s/n deu um sorriso que transbordava ironia. — Esses são os Winchester, não são? — Ela colocou as mãos nos bolsos de trás do jeans, encarando Bobby. A atmosfera do lugar era bizarra, tensa demais. — Os seus filhinhos de mentira. — Ela apertou os lábios, transformando-os em uma linha fina. Dean abriu a boca para dizer algo, mas eu o encarei, esperando que ele entendesse que era uma péssima ideia.

Bobby suspirou mais uma vez, colocando o boné na cabeça e se dirigindo até a garota, segurando-a pelos dois ombros. 

— Eu estou feliz em te ver, querida. — Ele disse a puxando para um abraço, que ela demorou um pouco para corresponder. — Mas você não deveria ter largado a faculdade.

Chamei a atenção de Dean com um movimento de cabeça, e ele me seguiu até a cozinha. Eu sabia muito bem que aquele tipo de conversa deveria ser entre os dois, e uma plateia não seria bem vinda no momento.

— Você sabia que ele tinha uma filha? — Dean falou baixinho, enquanto servia uma dose de whisky em um copo de metal. — O Bobby pai! — Falou incrédulo.

— Eu também não fazia ideia, ele nunca comentou. — Dei de ombros.

— Ela é brava, mas até que é bem gatinha. — Ele disse dando um sorriso de lado, me fazendo encará-lo com censura.

— Nem pense nisso. — Avisei baixo. — Bobby te mataria.

Ficamos “escondidos” na  cozinha por um bom tempo. Por mais que não posso tão perto da sala, podíamos ouvir a conversa toda vez em que eles se exaltavam. Bobby queria que ela voltasse para a faculdade e se formasse, s/n queria caçar. O que ele achava um absurdo. 

Ri com a ironia do assunto. Poucos anos atrás havia tido uma discussão completamente oposta com meu próprio pai. 

De alguma forma, isso parecia ter sido há muito mais tempo do que realmente era.

s/n's pov

Sentei no capô de um dos carros parados em meio ao ferro velho. Dei um longo gole na cerveja, sentindo o líquido gelado passar pela garganta. Respirei fundo, deixando que o ar de casa me acalmasse. Por mais que eu odiasse brigar com meu pai, e isso acontecesse com frequência, era bom estar em casa para variar. 

Me virei rapidamente quando ouvi passos no cascalho do chão, vendo um dos Winchester se aproximar. Ele se sentou ao meu lado, observando o sol que estava se ponto em meio aos escombros do que um dia foi um automóvel.

— Medicina, hum? — Ele disse me olhando de lado. Ele estava com o rosto machucado, mas mesmo assim era muito bonito. Os cabelos levemente compridos e era muito alto. Assenti com a cabeça e ele sorriu sem mostrar os dentes. — Eu fiz direito por algum tempo.

— Ah, então você é o Sam. — Afirmei, me lembrando vagamente de uma conversa onde John havia me contado que o filho havia fugido de casa para entrar na faculdade. Ele me olhou com curiosidade. — Não é porque vocês nunca ouviram falar de mim que eu nunca ouvi sobre vocês. — Ri pelo nariz.

— Não fazíamos ideia de que Bobby tinha filhos. — Ele disse, voltando a olhar para frente.

— Ele não fala sobre mim com quase ninguém. — Dei de ombros.

— Mas, como? Nós passamos nossa infância vindo aqui e nunca te vimos.

— Estudei em um internato. — Revelei. — Meu pai não tinha muito tempo pra cuidar de mim, e levar uma criança pequena para caçar não era uma opção pra ele.

— Diferente do meu. — Ele disse baixo, como se dissesse para si mesmo. Eu sabia que a relação de John com os filhos era complicada, principalmente com o mais novo.

— Sinto muito pelo seu pai. — Falei, e ele me olhou. — John era um bom homem.

— Você o conheceu? — Assenti com um movimento de cabeça.

— Ele ia me ver de vez em quando. Sabe, como o meu pai ficava de olho em vocês, o seu ficava em mim.  — Sam suspirou, ainda me olhando.

— Porquê desistiu da faculdade? Poderia ter fugido dessa vida. — Seu tom não era de julgamento, apenas de curiosidade.

— Não tem como realmente fugir dessa vida, Sam. — Dei de ombros. — Essas coisas sempre dão um jeito de te encontrar.

— Eu sei bem como é. — Ele bufou.

— E, meu sonho nunca foi ser médica. — Admiti. — Só aceitei cursar a faculdade, porque meu pai insistiu, e conhecimento médico pode ser útil. — Dei um gole na minha bebida, agora já não tão gelada.

******

— Você está bem? — Sam perguntou sem som, enquanto nos escondemos atrás de uma mesa de madeira, assenti com um movimento de cabeça, começando a sentir calafrios. Um tiro foi ouvido, e logo após um grito. Sam ergueu um pouco a cabeça, e então se levantou. — Vamos sair daqui. — Disse estendendo a mão para que eu também levantasse. 

Saímos os três apressados da casa abandonada, faziam alguns meses que meu pai havia concordado em me deixar caçar, desde que com os Winchester. Dean não havia gostado muito da ideia, ele achou que eu fosse atrapalhar, mas com o tempo, pareceu se acostumar. 

Na realidade eu passava muito mais tempo com Sam do que com Dean, sempre que tinha uma oportunidade o mais velho dava um jeito de sair por aí, encher a cara e sair com alguma garota, voltando apenas na manhã seguinte com um sorriso enorme no rosto. 

Eu gostava de passar esse tempo a sós com Sam, ele era muito mais calmo do que Dean, e eu achava sua inteligência fascinante. Ele tinha paciência para ensinar o que eu não sabia, o que de alguma forma foi me cativando. 

— Encontrou alguma coisa? — Perguntei entrando no quarto de motel dos irmãos, encontrando Sam sentado em frente ao notebook.

— Sim. Annabel Chase, morta em 1926, pelo marido que a encontrou com outro homem. — Ele disse me olhando, dando um sorriso que causou arrepios pelo corpo. A falta de sexo de tantos meses me deixava a beira da loucura. Me pegava encarando Sam nos momentos mais inoportunos. Mas, como não olhar?

— Sabe onde foi enterrada?

— Pelo que conta a lenda, o corpo dela foi deixado no porão, deve estar até hoje. — Ele coçou a nuca. — Já está anoitecendo e Dean ainda não chegou.

— Podemos ir nós dois. — Falei dando de ombros. E Sam sorriu em resposta.

Entramos na casa em silêncio, empunhando as armas de bala de sal. Ele ia andando em minha frente, com passos cuidadosos. Chegamos a escada que levava ao porão sem muitos problemas, e eu estava estranhando o fato de estar tudo tão tranquilo. O lugar não era muito grande, estava muito empoeirado e cheio de todo tipo de coisa. Haviam alguns móveis cobertos por panos que um dia foram brancos, brinquedos de madeira. Em um lugar no chão, havia um montante de roupas, e saindo do busto um crânio.

— Acho que essa é a Annabel. — Sam disse tirando a grande bolsa de suprimentos que estava pendurada no ombro e a colocando no chão. junto da arma. 

— Sam, cuidado! — Falei ao enxergar o fantasma de Annabel Chase atrás dele quando Sam se abaixou. Antes que pudesse reagir, o corpo de Sam foi lançado contra a parede. Engatilhei a arma e descarreguei um cartucho de sal nela, fazendo com que sumisse. — Você está bem? — Perguntei me aproximando. Sam assentiu, mesmo se levantando com dificuldade. Com uma agilidade que eu nunca tinha visto, Sam jogou álcool e sal sobre o corpo jogado no chão, Annabel apareceu mais duas vezes, mas eu a impedi. Até que Sam jogou o fogo, fazendo o espirito sumir em uma nuvem de fumaça.

— Isso foi insano! — Falei ao chegarmos em frente ao motel. A adrenalina ainda corria pelo meu corpo, era meu primeiro caso de espíritos, eu precisava admitir, tinha adorado.

— Você gosta mesmo disso, hum? — Sam disse abrindo a porta de seu quarto. — Quer entrar e tomar uma cerveja? — Assenti, e entrei quando ele me deu passagem.  

Agradeci a cerveja com um sorriso, e Sam se sentou à minha frente, batendo com sua garrafa na minha em um brinde.

— Ao seu primeiro fantasma. — Falou com divertimento. 

— Dean ainda não voltou. — Falei olhando para as camas vazias.

— Parece que alguém se deu bem essa noite. — Ele falou dando um gole na garrafa.

— Que inveja. — Falei baixinho, mas ele me escutou, pois me encarou. A adrenalina em meu corpo deu lugar a um calor já conhecido, era assim toda vez que ele me olhava. Sam limpou a garganta antes de tomar mais um gole da cerveja, e então se recostou na cadeira, fazendo uma careta de dor logo em seguida. — Você se machucou? — Perguntei me levantando e indo em sua direção.

— Acho que foi só um mau jeito. — Disse tentando esticar as costas, fazendo outra careta.

— Me deixa dar uma olhada. — Depois de alguns segundos de hesitação, Sam se levantou e tirou a camisa, e então se virou de costas para mim.

Respirei fundo, tentando controlar minha pulsação acelerada antes de erguer as mãos e tocar nele. Não havia nenhum ferimento aparente, mas passei os dedos pela coluna à procura de alguma lesão. — Acho que você só precisa de uma massagem. — Falei ao pressionar em um ponto e ele soltar um pequeno grunhido. — Deita ali.

— Não precisa. — Sam disse virando para mim. Ele era tão alto que meu rosto ficava na altura de seu peito.

— Não vai demorar mais do que dois minutos. Sou boa nisso, pode confiar. — Tentei sorrir, e então Sam apenas se dirigiu para uma das camas, deitando-se de bruços. — Vou precisar subir em você. — Falei hesitante, me sentindo uma idiota. — É estranho falar isso. — Ri pelo nariz.

— Tudo bem. — Sam disse rindo também.

Sentindo meu corpo inteiro tremer, tirei meus tênis e subi na cama, apoiando minhas pernas na volta de sua cintura, mas sem apoiar meu peso nele. Comecei a tocar a pele quente, pressionando os pontos que eu sabia que iriam relaxar seu corpo. Parecia uma prova de autocontrole, minha pulsação estava acelerada, e sentir seus músculos debaixo dos meus dedos era quase enlouquecedor. 

Qualquer resquício de sanidade sumiu no momento em que um gemido rouco fugiu de seus lábios. Meu corpo inteiro travou, o incômodo entre minhas pernas parecia só aumentar. Pensei em sair, dizer que já havia terminado e correr para o meu quarto, mas antes que eu o fizesse, Sam se virou embaixo de mim. Por alguns segundos esqueci como se respirava. 

— Eu… — Tentei formular uma frase coerente, mas as palavras se perdiam em minha mente. Ele estava com a respiração desregulada, o peito bem definido subia e descia rápido, os lábios entreabertos. Parecia uma visão vinda diretamente do fundo da minha mente.

Nos encaramos por alguns segundos, e então, Sam se sentou, colando os lábios aos meus. Não consegui conter o gemido baixo que escapou, havia passado por semanas de expectativa sobre aquele momento, imaginando que nunca aconteceria. 

O beijo era urgente, levei minhas mãos até seu rosto, infiltrando meus dedos nos cabelos compridos, puxando-os levemente.

Sam quebrou o beijo, puxando minha camiseta para cima, revelando o sutiã preto.

Ele passou a língua no vão entre meus seios, me fazendo morder o lábio para segurar o gemido eminente. Senti minhas pernas cederem, e me sentei em seu colo, sentindo seu membro duro pelo tecido da calça. 

Tudo estava evoluindo rápido, meu corpo inteiro parecia em ebulição 

Agora Sam estava em cima de mim, meu sutiã já havia sido jogado em algum canto do quarto, juntamente das nossas calças. 

— Não deveríamos estar fazendo isso. — Ele disse baixo, com a boca colada na pele do meu pescoço.

— Por que? — Perguntei suspirando.

— Bobby vai me matar. — Ele disse subindo beijos para o meu queixo.

— Para de pensar nele...— Sussurrei, puxando-o para mais um beijo. 

Nos livramos das últimas peças de roupa, e o sentimento era de urgência. Sam parecia ansiar tanto quanto eu. Gememos alto com a primeira estocada, arranhei suas costas a medida que nosso ritmo se tornava mais frenético. 

Nossos corpos estavam na mesma sintonia, buscando pela mesma coisa. Uma camada fina de suor se formava em sua testa, a expressão de prazer em seu rosto tornando tudo ainda mais erótico. 

O orgasmo me atingiu com força, me tirando de órbita. Pouco tempo depois, Sam também atingiu seu ápice, se jogando ao meu lado na cama pequena. 

Quando o clima de sexo apaziguou, uma raio de realidade passou em minha mente. Meu Deus, o que fizemos. Me levantei para procurar minhas roupas, e Sam fez o mesmo, vestindo sua cueca.

— Vou voltar para o meu quarto. — Falei vestindo minhas calças. — Não quero que Dean chegue e nos encontre assim. — Falei sentindo meu rosto aquecer. 

Antes que eu saísse do quarto, Sam me puxou para mais um beijo, muito mais calmo do que o outro, mas igualmente maravilhoso.

Não consegui dormir por nenhum minuto. Minha mente criava centenas de cenários, ensaiei frases prontas para o caso de ele dizer que tudo havia sido um erro. Quando amanheceu, decidi tomar um banho e tentar ajeitar minha aparência, me sentia cansada, mas minha mente não me permitia dormir.

Os Winchester estavam arrumando as coisas no carro quando saí do quarto, carregando minha mochila nas costas. Sam informou que iria fazer o pagamento dos quartos, me chamando com um movimento de cabeça. Meu coração parecia ter subido para a garganta, minhas mãos suavam e o ar parecia não ser suficiente para encher meus pulmões.

Porém, assim que saímos do campo de visão de seu irmão, quando eu achei que ele iria dizer algo, Sam agarrou meu rosto com as duas mãos, colando a boca na minha.

Começamos a manter um tipo de relacionamento escondido no começo, queríamos ter plena certeza do que sentíamos antes de falar sobre com qualquer um. E era muito bom, Sam era compreensivo, carinhoso e quente. Muito quente.

Não demorou mais do que duas semanas para que Dean descobrisse o que estava acontecendo entre nós. Na realidade, ele havia voltado mais cedo do que o esperado de mais um dos seus encontros, me encontrando sentada no colo de Sam. 

Passamos dias ouvindo piadinhas sobre aquilo, mas acho que no fundo ele estava feliz pelo irmão. 

— E aí, prontos? — Dean perguntou, o sorriso enorme nos lábios. Ele passara a viagem inteira rindo e cantando junto do rádio. Sam estava no banco de trás do carro, e eu estava com a cabeça encostada em seu peito, ouvindo-o bater muito forte. — Sabe que ele vai estar armado, não sabe? — Ele disse como se aquela fosse a melhor piada de sua vida, e Sam bufou alto.

— Você é sempre de muita ajuda, Dean. — Falei com ironia.

— É para isso que servem os cunhados. — Disse me olhando pelo espelho retrovisor, e piscando um olho. 

O carro dobrou a rua, o ferro velho no final da rodovia se aproximando cada vez mais.

[imgaine-it-all]

Friend Request  Y/N: BACK UP I TOOK OUT THIS INTRUDER I WON’T BE AFRIAD TO TAKE YOU OUT TOO! Sam: Wow wow wow hold on, we’re the good guys. We here to stop that guy from hurting you  Dean: From what I can see you don’t really need our help -looking at the knocked out demon on the ground- Damn, what did you even use to knock him out. Y/N: My 7 pound salt lamp and I’ll use it again if you get to close.  Dean: Salt lamp hmm, that’s one way to salt a demon Sam: Dean, I think 7 pounds of weight would knock anyone out.  

[fuiabarcelos]

Champagne problems: Amar é sofrer?

Versão português Br

Ship: Sam Winchester x leitora.

Resumo: Ela queria casar, ele queria terminar. Ou isso foi apenas um mal entendido?

Bingo: Uma música de evermore - Champagne problems.

Gênero: Muita tristeza (o flashback é fofo) - 4600 palavras.

Avisos: Sam sem alma quebrando o coração da leitora, tentativa de suicídio, saúde mental, depressão, hospitalização psiquiátrica, família toxica, manipulação.

N/A: Isso é como eu imagino que seria o Sam sem alma se estivesse em um relacionamento. Eu considero a história um pouco pesada.

Ele entrou na sala junto a Dean. Assim que seus olhos encontraram os dele, você sentiu seus ombros relaxarem e lembrou da sensação de ter um coração novamente, ele estava batendo como todas às vezes que via ele. É incrível como Sam conseguiu restaurar o amor de dentro de você apenas com sua presença.

Você correu para os braços dele e o abraçou o mais forte que podia, sentindo o seu cheiro. Estar perto dele restaurou os bons sentimentos que há muito tempo foram perdidos e você finalmente se permitiu lembrar do dia que tanto lutou para esquecer desde que ele se foi.

A lembrança do dia mais feliz da sua vida se tornou a mais dolorosa no último ano.

— Não acredito que você me trouxe aqui novamente! — Você exclamou com felicidade. Vocês estavam no restaurante onde ele te pediu em namoro. Desde aquela noite vocês nunca mais voltaram a esse lugar.

Ele estava completamente reformado, você só o reconheceu pelo letreiro brilhante com o nome do restaurante e pelo garfo gigante em sua entrada.

— Pensei que poderíamos relembrar os velhos tempos. A comida não foi das melhores, mas aquela noite foi incrível.

— Eu me lembro perfeitamente de você elogiando a sobremesa por dias! — Sam fez uma expressão ofendida, como se estivesse sendo acusado de algo que ele não fez, quando, na verdade, os dois sabiam que o que você disse era verdade. Você riu antes de continuar a falar — Mas devo concordar, foi uma noite incrível.

A comida havia melhorado e Sam estava novamente elogiando a sobremesa.

— Por que não pede mais uma? — Você perguntou quando ele terminou de comer.

— É uma ótima ideia, mas eu tenho outros planos.

— Já sei! — Você disse enquanto pegava um guardanapo e retirava os resquícios de chocolate da boca dele — Vamos caminhar pelo parque.

— Como você adivinhou?

— Sam… Você pensa que eu não entendi o que está acontecendo aqui? Você está recriando o nosso primeiro encontro. Me trouxe a esse restaurante, pediu os mesmos pratos, as mesmas bebidas, sobremesas…

— Eu esqueci que você é uma garota esperta — Ele brincou — Vamos?

A noite estava calma e silenciosa. O céu estava totalmente iluminado por diversas estrelas que brilhavam incessantemente ao lado da lua que, por sua vez, refletia sua beleza no lago à frente de vocês.

— A noite está tão bela — Você suspirou aproveitando o silêncio e o calor das mãos de Sam nas suas.

— Assim como você — Quando olhou para Sam, os seus olhos estavam brilhando enquanto ele olhava para você. Esse tempo todo ele estava te admirando.

— Você ainda é aquele rapaz completamente apaixonado daquela noite.

— Sim, e apaixonado pela mesma mulher — Ele sorriu. Você sempre soube que esse sorriso, algum dia, seria o motivo do seu colapso. Ver Sam sorrir despertava em você uma felicidade inexplicável, como se nada mais no mundo importasse. Como se não houvesse nada mais belo.

E então vocês finalmente estavam no campo à beira do lago. Cheio de flores coloridas que pareciam as mesmas sob a luz do luar, mas você tinha a lembrança clara de como era estar aqui durante o dia. Esse lugar conseguia ser belo em ambos os turnos.

Não tão belo quanto Sam.

Você o observou enquanto caminhava sozinho em direção às flores, logo após pedir para que você aguardasse um momento. Seu corpo estava iluminado pelas estrelas, destacando-se no meio do campo de flores, e exalava a essência de sua natureza romântica e etérea. Era evidente para você que ele estava colhendo uma flor, assim como havia feito tantos anos atrás, um gesto que ecoava a admiração dele por você.

Não demorou muito para ele voltar, afastar o seu cabelo delicadamente (o que certamente lhe trouxe mais arrepios que o normal) e colocar a bela flor na sua orelha. Agora, vocês dois estavam sorrindo intensamente um para o outro, não querendo que esse momento acabasse.

Sam aproximou seus lábios da sua bochecha e a beijou suavemente algumas vezes. Ele sabia exatamente como demonstrar seu amor.

Os pensamentos de que você não merecia isso, não merecia todo esse amor explodiram em sua mente, você estava pronta para afastá-lo e pedir para ir embora. Ele e o amor dele a deixavam tão vulnerável e, ao mesmo tempo, tão feliz, isso te assusta!

— Foi aqui que você me pediu em namoro — Em vez de pedir para ir embora, você tentou expulsar os pensamentos e reviver as lembranças daquela noite perfeita — Você estava tão nervoso, mas conseguiu me fazer tão feliz.

— Eu espero mantê-la feliz pelo resto da minha vida — As mãos dele deslizaram para o bolso da calça, retirando uma caixa vermelha. Sam se ajoelhou no chão, sem se importar que a grama sujaria seu jeans. Você arregalou os olhos quando percebeu o que estava acontecendo e pensou que desmaiaria a qualquer momento — Eu estou há um tempo planejando isso porque queria que fosse perfeito. Você é a mulher que eu amo e quero amar pela eternidade, ter você como namorada durante todos esses anos foi a melhor coisa que me aconteceu, mas ainda é pouco para mim. S/n, eu quero colocar um anel no seu dedo, levá-la ao altar vestida de branco, beijá-la na frente de todos depois do sim e, finalmente, tê-la como minha esposa.

— Sam… Você não pode fazer isso — Seu rosto estava encharcado de tantas lágrimas. Havia pouco ar em seus pulmões e você estava tonta, muito tonta — Eu te amo e o que eu mais quero é passar o resto da minha vida com você, mas...

Sam já estava preparado para qualquer reação “negativa” que você tivesse, pois te conhecia há muitos anos e lutava com você para curá-la desse sentimento de que você não era digna de nenhum amor.

Ele sabia que o pedido de casamento traria de volta os seus traumas, traria as lembranças do seu pai espancando a sua mãe, da sua avó traindo o seu avô e ele ameaçando matá-la. Você ficou no meio desses casamentos fracassados, mas eles sempre afirmavam que isso era amor.

Amar para você é sofrer.

Por isso, Sam fez questão de reviver o dia que vocês saíram pela primeira vez e começaram a namorar, pois ele sabia que isso a traria conforto.

— S/n, meu amor — Ele disse, ainda ajoelhado — Já conversamos sobre isso, você merece sim ser amada, porque o amor não é nada daquilo que você presenciou. Você não precisa ter medo. Eu estarei aqui por você e nunca vou fazê-la sofrer.

— Eu não queria que meus problemas insignificantes estragassem esse momento, me perdoa.

— Você não estragou nada, não se preocupe, baby — Ele passou as mãos pelos cabelos antes de segurar a sua e olhar nos seus olhos — Então… Você aceita se casar comigo?

Você respirou fundo e se lembrou de toda a felicidade que Sam te trouxe desde que estiveram juntos. Ele estava falando a verdade quando disse que nunca te machucaria, você tem certeza disso.

— Sim, Sam! Eu aceito me tornar sua esposa.

Ele finalmente colocou o anel em seu dedo e a puxou para um beijo apaixonante e demorado. Vocês passaram a noite inteira escorados em uma árvore, com você sentada no colo de Sam enquanto contavam histórias e trocavam muitos e muitos beijos.

Você se casaria com o homem que pensou que não existia. Um homem romântico, respeitoso e extremamente lindo. Você se casaria com Sam Winchester.

Agora ele finalmente estava aqui. Um ano depois de ele dizer sim a Lúcifer e cair na jaula.

Depois que Sam se foi, Dean seguiu o próprio caminho e foi tentar ter uma vida normal com Lisa e Ben, mesmo com a dor da perda do irmão, ele parecia estar contente com a vida que estava levando e você estava feliz por ele. Você os ajudou em algumas caçadas antes e sabia o quanto essa vida é difícil.

Quanto a você, depois que Sam caiu na jaula você se afastou de todos, pois sentia que precisava vivenciar seu luto sozinha. Sua família tentou manter contato, eventualmente ligando para saber o motivo do seu sumiço, mas você não deu nenhuma informação sobre o paradeiro seu e do seu noivo.

Todas as noites você sentia falta de Sam passando as mãos pelos seus cabelos antes de dormir enquanto contava como foi a última caçada, dos beijos e toques carinhosos dele. Você sentia que a melhor parte da sua vida foi arrancada a força e, o pior, seria para sempre.

Você pensou que seria para sempre.

Você esperou que ele a abraçasse de volta o mais apertado que conseguisse, afastasse seu cabelo, segurasse seu rosto e junta-se seus lábios no dele. Você finalmente poderia dizer o quanto sentiu falta dele, mas ele não fez nada disso. Sam ficou parado, olhando para você como se aquele abraço que você tanto sonhou em ter novamente, não significasse nada para ele.

— Ele está um pouco confuso, S/n — Dean disse — Sam passou um ano com lúcifer, vai demorar um pouco para ele ficar bem.

— Você está certo. Me desculpa, Sam — Você acredita no que Dean disse. Sam precisava de um pouco de espaço para entender e superar tudo o que aconteceu — Eu só… Senti muito a sua falta.

Sam concordou antes de dizer que precisava sair para tomar um banho.

-----

Ele finalmente estava a amando novamente. Foi um pouco mais bruto do que costumava ser, mas você sentiu que isso restaurou a conexão entre os dois. Os seus corpos estavam dando prazer e amor um para o outro.

Sam a beijava como se precisasse desesperadamente de você, e você sabia que ele estava pronto para continuar.

— Amor, eu estou cansada — Você disse, afastando os lábios dele dos seus para olhar em seu rosto. Você acariciou suas bochechas suavemente, sentindo agora que precisava daquele momento de carinho após um sexo intenso e após ficar sem ele por 1 ano — Nós podemos apenas ficar aqui por um tempo, conversando e dando carinho. Eu preciso desse momento com você depois de tudo o que aconteceu.

— Não estou interessado em fazer isso agora, talvez depois — Ele disse. A boca de Sam encontrou com seu pescoço onde ele deixou uma mordida intensa e desesperada. Certamente ficaria uma marca profunda depois.

Você ficou um pouco decepcionada, pois sentia falta daquele amor que durante muito tempo foi um medo e uma insegurança, mas depois do pedido de casamento se tornou o que você tinha de mais importante. Entretanto, você entendeu o lado de Sam e entendeu que ele precisava colocar a cabeça no lugar antes de estar vulnerável novamente para você.

— Sabe, eu estava pensando, agora que você voltou, podemos finalmente fazer o nosso jantar de noivado com a minha família. Para comemorar nosso futuro casamento e a sua volta.

— Tudo o que você quiser, desde que continue gemendo embaixo de mim.

Num misto de incerteza e desagrado, você se viu cedendo. Você não sabia se aquilo era chantagem ou uma forma de parecer sexy, mas abriu mais as pernas e esperou que ele entrasse em você novamente, mesmo já tendo o suficiente daquilo.

Você passou semanas planejando o jantar de noivado perfeito. A ajuda de Sam foi necessária, mas ele não estava disposto a planejar isso, então você fez o trabalho todo sozinha e esperou que ele gostasse.

Sam não havia voltado ao normal ainda, depois que ele retornou da jaula ele não era mais o homem doce, romântico e fofo de antes. Agora ele é frio e você constantemente se pega exigindo a atenção dele. Às vezes você se sentiu egoísta por não gostar das atitudes dele e sentir que precisa entender o lado dele, afinal Sam esteve preso com Lúcifer durante 1 anos, é inevitável que isso tenha afetado a saúde mental dele.

Mas estava afetando a sua também.

Antes, você costumava ser muito instável mentalmente, todos os dias você acordava e esperava ansiosamente pela chegada da noite, pois enquanto dormia era o único momento que você não sentia dor. Sam estava lá por você, tentando alegrá-la e reacender a sua vontade de continuar. Você ainda se arrepende por fazer ele passar por tanto sofrimento quando decidiu tirar a sua própria vida, mas ele estava lá segurando a sua mão no hospital e cuidou de você como ninguém fez antes.

Você sentia que aquela sensação de desgosto pela vida estava voltando, mas que não podia contar com Sam dessa vez, não por que ele não se importava, mas por que ele já estava sofrendo demais.

— Eu estou tão animada! — Você disse quase dando pulinhos enquanto ajeitava a gravata de Sam — Nossa… Você está tão lindo, meu amor.

— Eu poderia dizer o mesmo, se me permitir mostrar o que posso fazer com você no quarto.

Você revirou os olhos, mas se arrependendo imediatamente. Não era para o seu descontentamento ficar tão explícito.

Parecia que Sam estava constantemente te chantageando para levá-la para cama. Você sentiu que sexo era a única coisa que importava para ele, que você só estava servindo para satisfazer os prazeres dele. Onde está todo aquele afeto que ele costumava lhe dar? Era como se o amor estivesse vindo apenas do seu lado…

Você balançou a cabeça, tentando afastar esses pensamentos idiotas. É claro que Sam ainda te amava, ele só estava confuso. Levá-la para cama é a forma dele mostrar que te ama, certo?

— Temos um jantar à nossa espera, Sam. Podemos deixar isso para mais tarde — Sam não gostou da resposta.

— Prefere agradar a sua família idiota do que a mim? Eu pensei que você me amasse.

— Eu amo, amo muito. Mas eu planejei com tanto carinho nosso jantar de noivado, eu quero comemorar o nosso casamento — Você sorriu tentando acalmá-lo, suas mãos agora estavam no rosto dele esperando que ele entendesse seu lado — Nós vamos casar, Sam! Isso não é incrível? Poderemos transar quantas vezes quisermos.

Sam claramente não estava convencido, mas desistiu de argumentar. Você colocou a mão dele na sua e o guiou até a sala de jantar, onde estava sua família.

— S/n! — Sua avó gritou de felicidade quando a viu — Você está tão linda nesse vestido! — Rapidamente ela puxou você para um abraço — Sam, quanto tempo! — Ela chegou perto para abraçá-lo também, mas Sam se esquivou. Você ficou em choque com a reação dele e a sua avó extremamente desconfortável, ele percebeu o clima que havia deixado ali e tentou consertar.

— É ótimo vê-lo novamente — Ele disse estendendo a mão para cumprimentá-lo.

— Eu estou tão feliz por vocês, vocês são o casal mais fofo que eu já vi. Tenho certeza que esse casamento não terá nenhum problema.

Se ela pudesse ver além das aparências, saberia que vocês tinham diversos problemas. Que você não sabia mais se estava feliz.

A campainha tocou e você correu para atendê-la, deixando Sam sozinho para cumprimentar a sua família. Quando você abriu a porta, viu Dean parado com um sorriso no rosto.

— Que bom que você veio, Dean! Estava esperando por você.

— Eu não perderia isso por nada, estou aguardando esse dia há muito tempo. Eu trouxe isso — Ele lhe entregou uma garrafa de Dom Pérignon.

— Champanhe! Muito obrigada, Dean.

— Uma noite especial, merece uma bebida especial.

Durante todo o jantar a sua família elogiou o seu relacionamento com Sam, eles relembraram vários momentos entre vocês dois nos almoços em família. Era nítido que todos estavam felizes com a notícia do noivado, exceto uma pessoa… O noivo.

Você pediu para que todos se levantassem, pois finalmente tomou coragem para realizar o discurso que havia preparado.

— Sam e eu agradecemos muito a presença todos, é muito importante para nós termos todos aqui apoiando e celebrando essa nova fase na nossa vida — Você respirou fundo antes de olhar para o homem com quem desejava passar a eternidade, o homem que fizera juras de amor eterno a você — Nunca achei que chegaria a este ponto de anunciar para todos que vamos nos casar. Desde que te conheci, acendeu um amor dentro de mim que eu nem sabia que estava lá. Você trouxe felicidade para a minha vida e me amou do jeito que sou. Quero que saiba que sempre estarei ao seu lado, Sam, e mal posso esperar para usar um vestido branco e me casar com você — Você sorriu e secou as lágrimas solitárias que escorreu pela sua bochecha — Eu te amo tanto, amor.

Os seus familiares aplaudiram a cena e você esperou ver algum resquício de felicidade em Sam. Esperava que ele declarasse suas belas palavras de amor a você ou que falasse que ele te amava também. Ele não fez isso, apenas permaneceu com sua expressão descontente por estar ali.

— Você está bem, Sam? — Você sussurrou.

— Na verdade, não. Eu estou cansado de todo esse teatrinho. De fingir que eu me importo com você para consegui-la levar para a cama, só por que transar com você é bom para caralho — Todos ali estavam em choque com os gritos do seu noivo — Eu não me importo com você, S/n e nem a amo. Eu nem sei por que eu aceitei vir nesse jantar de merda com essa família que se acha perfeita quando, na verdade, se odeiam profundamente.

— Sam… Para com isso, por favor — Você implorou chorando.

— O que deu em você? — Dean gritou do outro lado da sala de jantar.

— Você é tão ingênua, S/n. Estava fazendo de tudo por mim achando que em algum momento eu retribuiria. Como pode pensar que eu amasse você ou que me casaria com você? — Em fúria, Sam retirou o seu anel de noivado e o jogou dentro de sua taça de champanhe — Já chega de tudo isso.

Ele bateu a porta antes de sair, ligar o seu carro e sumir na escuridão.

Ao fundo, tocava uma das músicas que você fez questão de colocar na playlist, pois era do cantor favorito de Sam: Blue Suede Shoes de Elvis Presley.

“One for the money, to for the show”

Eu não estava pronta para isso, então eu vejo você ir — Você pensou.

Sua cabeça doía descontroladamente com tanta informação, a sua família não calava a boca dizendo que Sam é um homem horrível e que você encontraria algo melhor.

— Ele seria um marido adorável, se não fosse fodido da cabeça — Disse a sua mãe.

Você não conseguiu se manter ali, no meio daquele caos. Então, minutos depois, você estava ajoelhada no chão da rua, enquanto suas lágrimas se misturavam com a chuva.

Você se entregou a um homem que prometeu lhe amar e nunca a machucar. Você se entregou ao homem que quebrou o seu coração. Sam Winchester arrancou seu coração de seu peito e o jogou no lixo.

Sua depressão a havia consumido novamente. A fofoca de tudo o que aconteceu no jantar havia se espalhado pela cidade, pois sua família não conseguia segurar a própria língua. Sua mãe lhe ofereceu um quarto na casa dela por alguns dias, até que você se sentisse um pouco melhor, mas estar lá foi a pior decisão que você poderia tomar.

Todas as vezes que alguém te via chorando, você ouvia que não precisava ficar assim que logo você encontraria alguém melhor. Sua prima, que sempre gostava de se sentir superior a você, disse que isso não passava de problemas insignificantes e todos ao redor concordaram com ela. Você só queria se sentir acolhida.

Após perceber que sua família não ligava para o seu sofrimento, você sumiu. Você mudou de número, alugou um apartamento em um estado mais longe possível e deixou a depressão tomar conta.

Em uma noite, você fez novamente. Eram 11:45 pm quando o telefone da emergência tocou e eles ouviram suas súplicas por ajuda. Os paramédicos correram para tentar te socorrer, você estava caída no chão com cortes profundos nos pulsos e uma pilha de frascos de remédios vazios ao seu redor.

No hospital, quando você se recuperou um pouco, eles pediram explicações. Você havia tentado tirar sua própria vida novamente. Os médicos conversaram com você sobre te mandar para um hospital psiquiátrico. Você ficou com medo, mas aceitou, pois sabia que precisava de ajuda e sua família não estava lá por você… Nem Sam.

Como você sentia falta de Sam. O Sam que a levou àquele restaurante, a fez sorrir e, no fim da noite, te pediu para se tornar oficialmente dele. Do Sam que te amava assim como você amava ele.

E agora você está aqui, deitada em uma cama de um manicômio esperando o horário do seu próximo remédio.

— S/n, nós vamos fazer uma sessão de terapia em grupo para receber o novo paciente, você quer se juntar? — Uma das enfermeiras perguntou. Você estava entediada, então concordou. 

Você entrou na sala onde a terapia em grupo iria acontecer, chegando por último. Sentou-se e esperou o início, mas ao dar uma olhada ao redor procurando por rostos familiares, o arrependimento de ter concordado em vir se intensificou.

— Esse é o novo paciente, Sam. Nós decidimos fazer essa sessão para acolher ele, Sam está em um estado avançado de psicose e precisa se conectar com a realidade.

Sam estava péssimo. As olheiras escuras e profundas abaixo de seus olhos denunciavam que ele não dormia há dias, ele possuía diversos cortes em seu rosto e mãos e estava claramente exausto.

Ele não estava prestando atenção em nada que a psicóloga ou os outros pacientes falavam, os olhos dele estavam fixos nos seus. 

Sam queria abraçá-la e pedir desculpas por tudo o que aconteceu, porque ele finalmente se lembrava de todas as coisas ruins que fez quando estava sem alma. Ele sabia das suas questões psicológicas, mas não sabia que você havia ficado tão mal a ponto de ficar internada em um hospício.

Você não aguentou ficar mais um minuto naquela sala e correu de volta para o seu quarto, duas enfermeiras vieram atrás de você, pois achavam que se tratava de um surto depressivo, talvez elas estivessem certas. No ápice da angústia, você se jogou no chão, soltando gritos de dor e frustração que ecoaram pelas paredes. Suas mãos correram para os seus cabelos e você os puxou com força como se estivesse tentando extrair a agonia de dentro de si.

 As enfermeiras agiram rapidamente para conter o seu sofrimento físico e emocional, te conduzindo à cama e imobilizando-a para evitar que se machucasse ainda mais. Não demorou muito para você sentir a picada da medicação em seu braço e um sono profundo a consumir.

Agora, você está frente a frente com a psiquiatra que costuma te atender, ela está interessada em saber o que causou o seu último surto.

— Ele está aqui… O meu ex noivo.

— Isso explica muito coisa. Você está falando do novo paciente? Sam — Você concordou — Eu não sei quais foram as razões para ele ter agido tão rudemente com você, mas eu sei que vocês não conversaram depois de tudo. Eu posso levá-la até o quarto dele, porque eu sei que você ainda tem muitas dúvidas.

— Eu tenho medo de ele gritar aquelas coisas horríveis para mim de novo, ele não me ama… 

— Essa escolha é sua, desde que você chegou aqui você me contou que queria ter a chance de conversar com ele pela última vez, mas se não se sentir pronta para isso, está tudo bem.

— Alguém pode ficar perto?

— Claro, você não estará sozinha.

O percurso do seu quarto até o de Sam foi envolto em uma atmosfera sombria. Suas mãos tremulavam e a boca seca era uma manifestação do seu nervosismo. No entanto, você fechou os olhos por um momento, respirou profundamente e, reunindo coragem, adentrou no quarto dele.

A enfermeira ficou te esperando atrás da porta para dar privacidade aos dois, ela prometeu ficar atenta a qualquer sinal de alerta.

— Oi, Sam — Você disse baixinho e quase chorando.

— S/n! — Ele veio até você e a puxou para um abraço apertado. Não foi o mesmo abraço frio e sem afeto que ele lhe deu no dia que voltou da jaula. Havia carinho nesse abraço, mas você acreditava que isso era apenas sua cabeça te sabotando para fazê-la se sentir melhor. Em seguida, Sam depositou um beijo na sua testa antes de segurar o seu rosto e olhar em seus olhos — Eu senti tanto a sua falta.

— Foi você quem me afastou. Foi você quem disse que não me amava, que me humilhou na frente da minha família inteira! Você provavelmente é a causa de eu estar aqui! — Você o afastou e tentou não falar tão alto para a enfermeira não achar que estava tendo alguma briga e te tirar de lá antes de terminar essa conversa. 

— Eu sei, mas por favor, se acalme. Vamos conversar — Ele segurou a sua mão e a guiou para se sentar na cama — S/n, quando Castiel foi tentar me salvar, ele não conseguiria me tirar de lá com a minha alma. Eu voltei, mas minha alma continuou presa com Lúcifer, até agora.

— Então, você estava agindo daquele jeito por que estava sem sua alma?

— Sim, com a minha alma fora do meu corpo, não restou nenhum tipo de emoção. Eu fiz coisas horríveis que durante um tempo eu não me lembrei. Eu perguntava para Dean  constantemente o que havia acontecido com você e ele nunca me contou a verdade, até que um dia eu finalmente me lembrei. Eu te procurei para tentar me desculpar, mas não a encontrei em lugar nenhum.

— Por que você está aqui, Sam?

— Minha alma continua sendo torturada por Lúcifer. Ele estava sentado ali, rindo de nós dois — Ele aponta para uma cadeira isolada no canto do quarto, mas não havia nada lá. Não era psicose, mas Lúcifer atormentando Sam.

— Isso é... Horrível. Você não merece isso.

— Dean e Castiel estão procurando uma maneira de me curar — As lágrimas desciam por ambos os rostos, vocês estavam sofrendo por motivos diferentes, mas conseguiam entender os sentimentos um do outro.

— Minha família estava certa, eu tenho problemas insignificantes comparados a isso.

— Não diga isso. Sua família não sabe o que diz — Os olhos de Sam estavam fixos nos seus e você não conseguiu desviar o olhar daqueles olhos tão lindos, mas agora tão cheios de dor — Seus problemas não são insignificantes e eu estou feliz que você tenha procurado ajuda. Eu sinto muito por tudo o que eu te fiz, S/n. Eu prometi que nunca a machucaria, que protegeria você para sempre, mas olha a onde eu te trouxe! Eu espero que um dia você possa me perdoar.

— Você se lembra quando ficamos hospedados naquele hotel velho e você disse que ele era um manicômio nos anos 90 e eu fiz uma piada: então ele foi feito para nós? — Você riu com a lembrança — Olha onde estamos agora.

— Você está certa — Ele riu com você. Quando ambos pararam de rir, vocês se olharam novamente — Eu sempre amei você e nunca desisti de levá-la para o altar — Os lábios dele estavam a centímetros do seu e você não poderia esperar mais nenhum minuto para beijá-lo novamente. Foi um beijo que carregava consigo toda a bagagem de suas emoções entrelaçadas. A princípio hesitante, mas logo se aprofundou em uma busca mútua por consolo e conexão.

— Eu preciso me curar primeiro, Sam. Eu não estou pronta para isso.

— Eu sei, e estou disposto a esperar o quanto for preciso. Eu não desistirei de você, porque você é a mulher da minha vida.

— A vida não foi justo conosco, mas eu espero que ela se arrependa e peça perdão. Eu preciso me curar antes de perdoar você, Sam.

[cas-poisoning]

destiel fans genuinely we are so lucky that Misha is our guy because nothing drives that man more than a need for attention and a lack of ability to feel shame

[allurilove]

Yandere Ghost x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: A little introduction to very pretty and demure yan ghost x gender neutral reader, perverted behavior, mentions of cheating and murder, he wants to be your one and only.

Yandere ghost had been alone for five hundred years. He had seen many people come and go, and none of his lovers had last long. They were all peaceful people who accepted death and their untimely demise, and no matter how hard he would beg for them to become a spirit and stay with him—they chose to go to heaven. Yandere ghost was scared to let go. He wanted to be on earth forever.

Yandere ghost had the prettiest hair that rivals the finest silk. Before he had died, he was a paramour. He fell in love with a married woman that made him want to be the best version of himself. He started to learn all the beauty secrets he could, traveling around the globe for the best ingredients for his skincare and hair. He dabbled in makeup, adding a bit of rouge to his cheeks and stained his lips pink. He took care of his body well. He used sugar to wax any hair on his torso or legs, and slathered scented creams he made himself so he smelled rosy. He made sure he would massage his legs and face after he woke up, and put ice on any puffy areas.

Yandere ghost was murdered by his ex-lovers husband. He didn’t like to dwell on his death, and he hadn’t exactly been truthful to you about it as well. He didn’t want you to think lowly of him for being the “other woman” and breaking a relationship apart. But, when he does get unwanted memories from that unfortunate night, he appears in your bedroom. You could feel his presence whenever he comes and goes, his cold hand would gently tug at your blankets, and you shivered as his body slowly sided next to yours. He would play with your pajamas, kiss your cheeks and bite on em. Not too hard, but enough so he could see his teeth marks.

Yandere ghost was grateful that you weren’t creeped out by the sight of him rubbing his cheeks on your inner thigh. He liked resting on your lower half since it was so unbelievably warm. He liked pressing his tongue against the crotch, and he smiled often at the wet spot that usually formed down there. He doesn’t want to be too forward with you, so simple touches like these was all he did. He kissed the fabric of your underwear, trailing upwards to your midriff, and his fingers grazed over the soft skin of your thighs. Yandere ghost was more active during the night time, and he preferred to keep himself hidden from you. Sometimes, he would pop out if you had another man over. His beautiful face would twist into disgust, and for a brief moment, he would reveal the most ugly parts of himself to the man he considered to be “trespassing.”

Yandere ghost was a little mischievous and jealous man. He didn’t like seeing you with anyone else because he had felt like you were the one. Yandere ghost was a man of many talents. He could rip his body into half on command, his intestines hanging like strings, and his mouth could detach from the jaw. He often liked to scare the men by hovering over them, his eyes wide and white without a pupil on sight, and his breath that reeked of spoiled fish would waft into their nose. If that didn’t work, he would beg them to free him from this house, and scream that there was a curse for any man that stepped foot on this land. He would crawl on the ground, sobbing endless black tears. Every time they would snitch on him… yandere ghost just disappeared immediately. He wouldn’t want you to see this jealous side of him.

[sunflowernovak]

look at my doctor dawg im gonna die

[samsno1]

One Hell Of An Agent

Sam Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: After weird deaths start happening and your friend becomes a victim of it, two men appear at your door for questioning and your day turns into the weirdest you've ever lived.

Warnings: SMUT, size kink (if you squint), oral (f. recieving), big d sam (obviously), dean gets forgotten lmao, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), piv, tit sucking, sam is a sweetheart, pet names (doll, baby, beautiful), a bit of body insecurity but, as i said, sam is a gentleman, reader is shorter and overall smaller then sam, use of y/n, NOT PROOF READ, english isn't my first language (if i forgot anything TELL ME)

Read it on AO3

WC: 6.1k

You can learn how to change the "Y/N" for your actual name here

enjoy your meal babies, mwah mwah

It was supposed to be just another day where you went to work to get pennies in exchange for spending close to 12 hours in front of a computer screen, get back home to drink until you decided you should take a shower and sleep. Then repeat.

You, standing in your living room with a circle of kitchen salt around you and two men who were supposedly FBI agents holding shotguns and the ghost of an old woman trying to kill you, wasn't in your plans.

They both had arrived at your house in suits earlier that day, knocking on your door. You groaned and got up from the couch, leaving your beer bottle settled on the coffee table. Once you opened the door you widened your eyes at the two men standing there.

The taller one greeted himself first. He had a – almost – shoulder length brown hair and beautiful hazel eyes. To say you were shocked at how handsome he looked was an understatement. The shorter one had deep green eyes and short hair, he was pretty too but his partner…

“Hello, I'm Agent Page, this is my partner, Agent Plant” He said, showing you his badge and nodding to Plant, him copying what his partner did.

You furrowed your eyebrows, recognizing the names from the Led Zeppelin band.

“Plant and Page as in…the Led Zeppelin guys?” You questioned and they shared a look. The shorter one stepped foward, giving you a once over, clearly checking you out.

“Just a coincidence Ma'am” He said, smiling at you and you nodded, still a bit skeptical.

You opened the door wider for them both to get in.

“Come in, please. Have a seat” You said, gesturing to the couch and they sat besides each other. Page eyed the beer at the coffee table in front of him and you cringed.

“Sorry, I wasn't expecting the FBI at my door” You chuckled lightly and took the beer bottle to the kitchen in the other room. When you came back, both their eyes were on you and you felt a bit intimidated.

“Well…why are the feds at my house…?” You asked, sitting at the armchair and resting your hands on your lap, fidgeting nervously with your fingers.

Page put his elbows on his knees, his fingers crossing in front of him as he leaned forward to talk closer to you. You took notice of his big frame wondering how someone could be so…wide?

“Miss…”

“Y/N” You filled in the gap.

“Miss Y/N” He said, licking his lower lip with his tongue “We are here to ask about the recent murders around”

“Oh” You said. You knew well about one of the victims, a friend of yours. It had been a little over 2 weeks since her death but you always went with the mantra to keep going no matter what. At the memory of her you felt your throat restrict and you blinked back tears.

Page seemed to notice and put a gentle hand on your knee to comfort you. When you looked up he was smiling slightly and you calmed down.

“We know Beth was your friend and we are sorry for your loss” He said, squeezing your knee “But we'd like to ask you some questions, if you don't mind”

You nodded and looked between the both of them, taking a deep breath.

“Yeah…yeah of course” You said and he nodded, pulling his hand away from you, the warmth still lingering where he had placed it.

“Did you notice any weird behaviors before your friend passed? Like she was distant, cold…?” Plant asked and you made a face trying to remember anything. You recorded a night you two went out

“Five days or so before she died…” You started, turning your head down to stare at your fingers over your lap. “We went to a bar near my house and she kept glancing behind her, nervous, on edge, as if something would jump her at any moment. When I asked her what was wrong she looked at me, terrified, grabbed her things and bolted”

You sighed thinking you should've went with her now that she was gone.

“I tried calling, texting. Nothing. For those five days I didn't hear anything from her then…they called me announcing that she was gone” You started tearing up again and closed your eyes to hold them back.

“She didn't have anyone else, y'know, I should've been there for her, I–” You choked on an inevitable sob and covered your face with your hands. Then you felt the taller man's hand on your knee again, his thumb stroking your leg.

“We are truly sorry, it wasn't your fault” He said, a voice so comforting and calm you felt it in your heart.

You took your hands away from your face and sniffed, letting out a slight chuckle. You felt a bit embarrassed to be crying in front of them both.

“I'm sorry” You said and brushed your hair back with your hand “I think this was it. She was always a very quiet girl but sweet, caring, I couldn't think of anyone that would do this to her”

The men nodded and looked at each other, a silent conversation you weren't a part of. You looked down to see Page's hand still on your knee and you smiled to yourself. What a nice fed.

"Thanks for the information Ma'am" Page said. When they looked back at you, he patted your knee lightly and got up with his partner. You stood up as well to accompany them to the door, them both behind you.

You opened the door and looked at them both going out, your gaze lingering longer on the taller one, looking him up and down.

They turned to you with a tiny card in his hand and gave it to you, your finger brushing against his.

“If you remember anything, give us a call. Thank you for your time” He smiled warmly along with the green eyed Agent.

“Will do, thank you so much” You said, smiling back seeing them walk away to the Impala parked in front of your house.

You kept your gaze locked until they drove away, snapping you out of your daze getting back in your house and locked the door, smiling like an idiot at the image of the handsome guy you just met.

Inside the Impala, Dean kept glancing towards Sam, who had his face buried into the newpaper about the couple murders happening.

“Dude” Dean finally said, a grin on his face. Sam looked up at him and made a questioning face at his side profile.

“What?” He asked

Dean laughed lightly and looked at his brother.

“She was eating you with her eyes” Dean said and at that Sam's full attention was on him, lowering the paper with a confused face.

“Who? Y/N?” He asked and Dean nodded. Sam sighed and rolled his eyes at his brother. “Dean, c'mon” He said.

“I'm serious, the look she gave you when we left, staring you up and down like a feast” Dean laughed mischievously, looking for a couple seconds at Sam's shocked expression. “She's pretty, y'know, if you don't want it, I'll have it”

“Shut up Dean” He said but he couldn't help thinking about your looks towards him and the impulse he felt to comfort you with a hand on your leg when he realized you were upset.

Dean laughed and shook his head at the stubbornness of his brother, driving back to the cheap motel they were staying at.

Your day went by as usual, some couple more beers here, a whiskey there, some movie you had on the TV.

You ended up falling asleep on the couch for a couple hours until about 2AM when you heard a loud thud in your house and your entire body entered fight or flight mode.

You got up and kept your ears trained for any more sounds until you heard your stove, the gas being poured out in your house and the color drained from your face. What the hell?

You went into the kitchen and for sure the smell of the gas hit hard on your nose and you gagged.

Suddenly the door to the kitchen closed behind you and you jumped in shock. Your heart started ringing in your ears and your hands were trembling.

“Hello?! Is anybody there?!” You asked, your voice shaking as you went to the door. Locked. You started to panic, were you crazy? Was this a dream?

There was a noise behind you and you turned, seeing the knife cabinet open and you glued yourself to the door, trying to get the lock open when a kitchen knife started to float up and towards you.

You screamed and banged at the door.

“Help! Someone, please!” You screamed and the knife was plunged in the door, close to your head and your body fell back in the ground, tears rolling down your cheeks when everything stopped.

You slowly got up and tried to open the door. Success. You scrambled out of your kitchen and unlocked the front door, sprinting out of your house terrified.

You remembered the card the Agent gave you. You didn't know if it was okay to call him this late but you just almost died. You thought he could make an exception.

With trembling fingers, you dialed the number on your phone, putting it to your ear. Please pick up, please pick up.

“Hello? Agent Page speaking, who is this?” He said with a gruff voice, he was definitely sleeping and you felt a bit bad for waking him up.

“Agent?” You practically whispered, your voice shaky with fear.

“Y/N?” He recognized your voice and made a confused face, sitting up on the bed. “What's wrong?”

“I– I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have called I–” You spoke fast, nervous. He took notice of that “Something happened” You said simply.

“We are on our way” He said and slipped on his shoes, already on outside clothes. He nudged Dean to wake him up. “Hang in there”

“Okay” You said in a whisper as he turned the call off, biting your thumbnail in order to stay calm in the circumstances.

Dean woke up to see Sam getting his bag ready in a frenze, a worried look in his younger brother's face.

“Y/N called, something happened, she seemed stressed, let's go” He said, throwing Dean his bag, the oldest groaning as he grabbed the keys for the Impala.

As they drove there, Sam couldn't help but get even more stressed the long it took for them to arrive. He wondered if you were okay, if you had gotten hurt, or worse. When they arrived, you were sitting on your porch, legs tucked close to your body as you shivered.

When you heard the noise of the car you got up. The two came out and you were a bit weirded out to see them in normal clothes but relieved nonetheless.

When they got closer you breathed out in relief, the taller of the two coming closer then Plant, grabbing your shoulders and eyeing you up and down, looking for any visible damage.

“Are you hurt? What happened?” He asked and you shook your head at the first question.

“I don't know…If I explain it I'll sound crazy” You said

“Oh, sweetheart, believe me, we know crazy” The green eyed Agent said and you looked at him, the nickname foreign but you brushed it off.

“I was sleeping in my couch when I woke up with a loud bang” You began. “I got up to see that my stove started leaking gas and…when I wnt to the kitchen, the door…It shut behind me, locked” You said, shakily and Page brushed his hand on your shoulder, the same way he had done to your knee earlier “I couldn't get out and a knife started to fucking float, it charged at me, caught the door and then it all just…stopped”

“I was able to leave my house and…call you” She said and looked into his eyes, the comforting gaze seeping into her. “I'm sorry, I know it's late”

“Don't bother, it's fine. Let's try and see how we can help you, okay?” He said

You looked at him, puzzled, tilting your head at him

“You believe me?” You asked and he let out an aired laugh in amusement.

“What if I tell you we aren't truly FBI agents” He said.

“Oh” You widened your eyes and looked between the both of them, shameful smiles on their faces. “Right”

“Get in, we will explain everything we can to you” He said and you nodded getting inside your house.

After a couple minutes you learned that they were actually brothers, the tall one was named Sam and the shorter was Dean. They told you all about what they did, the family business, how real the supernatural was and tried to explain that you experienced something ghost-like.

You were absolutely dumbfounded as they said all that. It was hard to believe that, how is all of it real if you hadn't seen anything your whole life similar to what they explained to you? Just now?

“Okay so…you both are like…the Ghostbusters?” But hotter. You noted, mentally.

“Basically, yeah” Dean said.

You sat there with your hands over your face. You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or cry at the situation.

The brothers walked around with the so called EMFs, machines you learned could sense the presence of ghosts.

You couldn't help but glance at Sam. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, his hair falling around his face and from time to time he bit his lower lip.

You were entranced at how annoyingly handsome he was until loud beeping from Dean's EMF startled you.

Sam whooped his head towards him and they shared silent looks. Sam turned to his bag and got a shotgun out and you widened your eyes at him. He took notice of that.

“They are loaded with rock salt, don't worry” He said and you made a confused face. He smiled at you and your heart skipped a beat. “Let's say…ghosts don't like salt. Salt and iron are their weaknesses” He said and you hummed in acknowledgement getting up and going to your fireplace to get an iron rod.

Sam stared at you as you walked back to him and you shrugged.

“It's iron, you said it could keep them at bay” You said and he nodded.

A loud noise startled all of you, in the kitchen, where Dean was the closest to and he cooked his gun, Sam doing the same and protecting you with his body.

“Stay behind me” He murmured to you and you nodded, iron rod in your hand prepared for any attack.

“Come on you son of a bitch!” Dean said and, as if on cue, the ghost of an old lady appeared in your kitchen and you gasped, recognizing her immediately.

“Mrs. Greene?” You whispered and apparently she heard you because in a moment she was there and in the other she was behind you.

“Y/N, watch out!” Sam yelled in front of you and you turned around, swinging your weapon and making her vanish for a couple of moments.

You were breathing heavily, your ears ringing until Sam snapped you out of your daze, turning you around by grabbing at your arm.

“Are you okay?” He asked, concern laced in his voice as he gave you a once over.

“Yeah, I think” You replied and Dean appeared as quick as possible making a circle of salt around you and Sam stepped out of it, letting your arm go.

“You need to stay there, she can't get you because of the salt” Dean said.

“You know her?” Sam asked and you looked at him, nodding.

“She was Beth's mother. Died in a car accident that…my father caused. Me and Beth bonded through their deaths but I guess her mom didn't really approve of that” You said, smiling sadly to yourself.

“Where is she buried?” Dean questioned.

“The cemetery near the only church in town. About 5 miles from here” You replied and Dean gave Sam a quick nod as he got his bag and gave his brother extra ammunition.

“I'll go do the dirty job, you, protect her, make sure that bitch doesn't kill her” Dean said as he went out the door, shutting it behind him.

You sat on the ground, in the middle of the salt circle, mindlessly playing with the iron rod in your hand. Sam looked down at you. You looked more than upset, understandably.

“Everything is going to be okay” He reassured you and you looked at him with a gentle smile. Until you weren't smiling anymore and instead was looking behind him.

“Sam, behind you!” You said, getting up again and he turned shooting the ghost and she reappeared behind you, outside of the circle.

You turned around, shaking and lifting your weapon at her. She looked down at the salt circle and the creepiest smile you've ever seen opens up in her face, sending shivers down your spine.

Suddenly the windows broke open and a strong gust of wind came in with full force. You covered your head to protect it from the glass until you looked down and the salt circle was broken around you.

Your heart dropped as she started approaching you and Sam shot her again from behind you.

To your dismay, she was behind him again, and before you could warn him about her she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and threw him against a wall.

“Sam!” You screamed and she turned to you again, slowly walking towards your frame and you backed away, the iron rod propped in front of you protectively.

She knocked the rod out of your hand and you looked desperately at it on the ground.

Your back pressed against the wall and you closed your eyes, preparing for your death when she started screaming and you opened your eyes.

She was quite literally burning right in front of you, with her hands reaching for your throat until she was just gone, no burn marks on your ground, weirdly, and her desperation echoed through the house.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, your heart beating in your ears. You heard a groan and remembered Sam was basically knocked out on the other side of the room.

You rushed to him and kneeled down besides him with a hand on his cheek and the other in one of his knee.

“Sam, are you okay?” You asked as he slowly opened his eyes. When he seemed to retrieve consciousness again he breathed in deeply and scrambled to get up but you held him down by putting a hand on his chest.

“Hey, hey, it's okay, she's…gone, I guess” You said and he focused his eyes on yours when you smiled. You felt your face heat up at the look he was giving you until Dean barged in through the front door, whistling at the mess.

He looked towards both of you on the ground and made a face, holding back a smirk.

“Burned her up…Am I interrupting something?” Dean asked playfully and you felt a tad of embarrassment, helping Sam get up with a grunt.

They started to gather their stuff and you wondered how the hell you were going to clean up your whole house. Glass and salt everywhere, a hole on the wall where Sam was thrown at.

When they were all done you got each a beer. They tried to deny it but you insisted, claiming it was a thank you treat for saving your life.

You finished all your drinks, throwing the bottles away and you walked them to the door, the Impala parked in front of your house. They got out and stood outside as you smiled at them.

“Thank you, again, really, you both saved my life” You said.

“It's nothing, really, we do this everyday” Dean said with a dismissive wave. “I'm going to load the car” Dean said, giving Sam a pat on the back and a look you didn't understand but apparently Sam did, since he gave a deep breath and a practically death glare at his brother, his chest going up and down.

“So…” He started, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

“So?” You nudged, smiling up at him and biting your lower lip. His eyes stared at your mouth and you felt small under his gaze.

“You were amazing back there, you know?” He said, crossing his arms in front of him and smiling. “You knew what to do, few people can do what you did”

He complimented and you looked down, smiling like an idiot. He’s so sweet.

“Oh I just…went by logic I guess, nothing much. You said iron and I reached for iron” You said, fidgeting with your fingers as you looked up again.

“Yeah…” He said, looking from your eyes to your mouth and back up again. You decided to be a bit brave and got into your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek, holding on his shoulder for support.

When you pulled back he didn't pull away and one of his hands cupped your cheek, looking between your eyes when he leaned into you, his lips against yours in a light kiss.

You responded almost immediately, your hand going to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss and he placed his hands on your waist. You reluctantly pulled away with a hum, dazed by the kiss with your eyes still closed.

When you opened them his eyes were on your face and you felt warm again. He pulled you back in your house and you giggled in surprise when he closed the door, his hand still holding you.

“What about your brother?” You said as he turned his attention back to you, a smirk on his face when he squeezed your waist. He leaned in closer and you held your breath.

“He can wait” He whispered against your lips before kissing you again, this time more intensely then before and you hummed, burying your hand on his hair while the other stroked his chest.

You started taking his jacket off when you stopped and pulled away.

“Is this okay? I mean I'm totally fin–” He cut you off with another mind blowing kiss and you gasped.

He shrugged off his jacket, dropping it to the ground and clasping your face in both his hands.

“Does this answer your question?” He smiled teasingly and you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss his lips again and his hands grabbed your hips in response.

He brushed his tongue against your lower lip and you opened your mouth to let him explore it, moaning lowly against his mouth.

He lowered his hands to the back of your thighs, not breaking the kiss, and lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and you yelped in his mouth.

You noted he was big, you just didn't know he was this strong, lifting you in his arms as if you weighed nothing.

He walked to the kitchen and placed you on the counter, his hands going under your shirt and experimenting with his touches on your bare skin.

You whimpered, shivers running through your whole body as his big hands roamed through your burning skin.

You pulled away, your forehead touching his, a whispered “Fuck” coming out of your lips. Your hands went to the hem of your shirt and slowly pulled it over your head, leaving your torso bare besides your bra.

Sam drank you in, his adam apple bobbing when he swallowed and you felt embarrassed under his strong gaze, your hands slowly coming to wrap themselves around your stomach.

He held your wrists gently, pulling them away from you and his hands went up and down your arms.

“Don't hide from me, you're beautiful” He whispered and started to leave kisses down your neck, nibbling and biting where he noticed you liked the best with the noises leaving your mouth.

Your hand wrapped in his hair to pull him back to your lips, his kisses addicting like a drug.

He pulled away again to pull his shirt over his head, revealing his defined torso and your jaw physically dropped at the sight. He had some scars, some pale, old, others a pink tone, more recent but it just made him look even better, showing how much he had lived through. He chuckled at your reaction and settled his hands on your hips again, gently squeezing.

“See something you like?” He teased and you closed your mouth, your hands reaching slowly to touch his bare chest. He gasped at your feather-like touch on his tanned skin and you looked at him again, his eyes dark with desire.

“You're…stunning, like– I knew you were…muscular…from the get go but you're…” You trailed off and he chuckled, a bit embarrassed and leaned down to crash his lips against yours again.

His hands went to your back and unclasped your bra, helping you take it off and toss it on the ground along with the rest of your clothes.

His hands came to the front and grabbed at both your breasts, squeezing them and making you moan into his mouth. His fingers teased at your hardened nipples and you arched into his touch.

His mouth started trailing down towards your neck, your collarbone, until he got to the valley of your breasts and looked up at you. Your mouth was open, eyes hazed and deep breaths were making your chest go up and down. What a sight.

He closed his mouth into one of your nipples and you whined, the warmth of his tongue circling around it making you grasp at his locks with a certain strength that made him groan around your skin. His fingers teased the other breast until he switched sides, feasting on your breasts.

“Sam…” You gasped his name and he hummed in acknowledgement of your plea, pulling away from your breast with a smile. “Please”

He gave your lips a peck and went down your body again, leaving open mouthed kisses down your stomach until he got to the waistband of your jeans and looked at you again, asking for permission and you nodded at him.

His fingers popped open the button of your pants and opened the zipper. You lifted your hips to help him pull the clothing off and he dragged it down your legs slowly, drinking you in.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his hungry gaze on your frame when his eyes noticed your soaked underwear.

He discarded your pants and ran his hands up your legs, his look never leaving your covered pussy. His hands stopped at your thighs as squeezed the flesh and you closed your legs instinctively.

He looked up at you and pried your legs open with his hands.

“What did I say about hiding from me?” He said, his tone deep and dominant making you swallow a whine as you spread your legs wider and he settled between them with a smirk.

He kissed your covered sex and you let out a low moan, his mouth traveled to your inner thighs, biting and kissing at the flesh, driving you insane.

“Please…” You begged, grabbing at his hair and he hummed.

“So desperate” He said against your skin, grasping your panties and pulling them down. You gasped at the cold air hitting your dripping core and he groaned at the sight.

He cupped your whole cunt with his hand, making your hips buck up into his touch and a low moan left your throat.

“Beautiful” He whispered and gave your thigh one last kiss. “Tell me if it's too much, okay?” He said and your heart melted.

“Okay” You breathed out and he smiled up at you. He took his hand away and you almost frowned when his lips wrapped around your clit and you moaned, bucking your hips against his mouth.

He smirked against you and put one hand over your hips to hold you still as he did wonders against your cunt. His tongue eating you out as if you were his last meal, ripping loud moans from your throat.

“Oh, fuck” You moaned, pulling at his hair “Sam– God” He hummed and groaned against your pussy sending jolts of pleasure through you.

He teased your hole with his finger, slowly entering you and stretching you out, hooking up and rubbing right at that spot and you moaned loudly.

“Jesus, fuck, right there– Shit” A string of curses left your mouth and he grinned proudly, adding another finger to your torture, making you cry out, his name slipping out of your lips.

You felt the knot inside of you tighten, your pussy clenching around his fingers and Sam knew you were about to cum.

“Cum for me, doll” He said and quickened his movements against you and your moans got louder.

“Fuck!” You groaned loudly as you finally came against his lips, your orgasm hitting you like a truck, your eyes closing in bliss, your fingers tightening in Sam's hair.

He helped you ride your orgams until the stimulation got almost painful and you started to try and close your legs.

“T'much, Sam–” You moaned and he pulled away, your juices shining against his face as he got up from his knees and grasped your waist tightly, smashing his lips against you, the foreign taste of yourself lingering on his tongue as he attacked your mouth.

“Taste as sweet as you look” He praises and you smirked.

You glance down at his still covered legs and crotch, the tent in his pants looked almost painful and you bit your lip. He noticed that and took you in his arms again, wrapping your legs around his hips, making your sensitive core grind against his jeans and you whined.

“As much as I'd like to bend you over that table and fuck you senseless” He said, getting closer to your ear and whispering: “I want to fuck you on a bed to see your cockdrunk face when I make you cum”

You shivered, not expecting these words coming out of his mouth and you attacked his neck with kisses and bites.

“My bedroom is down the hall, on the right” You mumbled against his skin, breathless, and he carried you to the room, his hands squeezing and digging in your ass as you continued marking his skin.

He gently placed you on the bed, kissing your lips hungrily and you led one of your hands down to his crotch, palming him through his jeans and he pulled away from your lips to groan, his forehead against yours.

“Fuck me, Sam” You breathed out and he kissed you one last time before standing up and unbuckling his belt and opening his zipper, dropping his pants to the ground and taking off his shoes.

You were staring, eating him with your eyes as he took off his boxers teasingly slow, stepping out of them and looking at your face for a reaction.

Your mouth watered and your pussy clenched around nothing. He was big. You expected him to be large, he was tall after all but you still were very shocked and wondered if you'd be able to take it all.

Sam seemed to notice your worries and grasped your chin to give your lips a comforting kiss. He wasn't cocky but he was aware of his size and knew it could be intimidating.

“We'll go slow, baby, if you want to stop, just say” He assured you and you felt all fuzzy and warm on the inside. It was hard to find men that actually cared and it seemed like you hit the jackpot with Sam. You nodded and he crawled over you, smashing your lips against his again.

He rubbed his cock up and down a couple times and lined it up with your entrance making you whine in anticipation. He slowly pushed into you and you pulled away to let your mouth hang open in a soundless moan.

Sam made sure to distract you from the pain, rubbing your thighs up and down and kissing your neck and collarbones. It took everything inside him to not pound into you. You tightened around him deliciously and he pressed his forehead against your shoulder.

“You feel so fucking good Y/N, God” He whisper-moaned against your ear and you hummed, your nails digging into his shoulders, definetly leaving marks to remind him for a couple days of this encounter.

“I feel so full, it feels so good” You moaned breathy as he was almost all the way inside you, his kisses soothing your hot skin, his fingernails marking your hips as he held back to let you adjust to his size once he was all the way inside.

You felt him in your throat and it took you a couple of moments to let the pain turn into pleasure and Sam was willing to wait as long as you needed.

When you finally stopped feeling the pain of the stretch you wiggled your hips against his cock and grabbed his cheek to give him a messy kiss.

“You can move, please” You said and he pulled back and forth, both of you moaning at the feeling, his dick hitting deeper than you thought was possible.

“Y/N” Sam moans against your shoulder, his strokes inside you making his whole body tremble with the tightness. His hand roams down your body until it reaches your lower stomach. He presses his hand down against your skin and you moan loudly. He grins, his breathing heavy as his hair makes a curtain around his face.

“Oh– fucking God!” You practically scream, your eyes rolling back as your nails scratch at his shoulder. He felt impossibly deeper and he quickened his thrusts, your whole body going limp and your mouth letting out incoherent babbles and moans of his name.

He was panting as he held himself up in his elbows to look at your fucked out face, kissing your cheeks and your lower lip.

“You look so pretty like this” He said against your skin as he kept his thrusts steady and deep. "I told you I wanted to look at your pretty face...when you came undone under me."

You felt your skin tingle, your body trembling and that familiar feeling on the pit of your stomach like a fire lighting up.

"The looks you were giving me..." He groaned against your skin, his hips sttutering as his orgasm came closer "I wanted to make those beautiful eyes roll back the moment I saw you" He admitted, giving your neck a harsh bite, definetly leaving a mark.

“Sam!” You moaned out, your hand tangling itself into his hair. “I'm cumming” You warned and he quickened his pace and your head shot back, exposing your throat to him.

“Cum for me beautiful” He said, leaving a hickey just below your jaw.

You unraveled below him with a loud moan of his name, your heels digging into his ass. A few more thrusts and Sam pulled out, stroking his cock one, two, three times until he came over your stomach, groaning and panting your name.

You looked at his face, sweat sticking some hairs on his face, his eyes closed, mouth agape and his hair a mess thanks to your hands.

You smiled in a daze and traced your fingers over his face and he opened his eyes, catching you already looking back at him. He leaned down and kissed you passionately for a couple seconds until he pulled away and stood up to go to your bathroom.

He came back with a wet towel to clean you up, gentle in your sensitive sex then he left the towel on the bathroom sink and layed down on the bed beside you again, pulling you into his chest and kissing the crown of your head.

You hummed as he wrapped his arms around you, massaging your sore muscles.

“That was…” You said, not finishing. No words were able to describe what you felt.

“Yeah, it was” He confirmed, smiling.

You snuggled into his chest, your hand tracing mindless patterns against his skin. Then you started to chuckle and he looked down at you.

“What?” He said with a hint of a laugh behind his tone.

“Your brother must be pissed” You said between laughs and he started to laugh too, feeling his chest vibrating against your cheek as his hand stroked your upper arm.

“I don't care, this, you, was worth it” He said and you looked up at him with a shy smile, not knowing what else to say.

After a while of silence between the two of you you started to think a bit.

“You're leaving town soon, right?” You asked and he hummed an affirmation. You hid your frown from him. “You're welcome back anytime, you know that, right?"

You said but didn't look at his face when you felt him looking down at you and he squeezed your arm as if to say I know.

You started to fall asleep against his steady breathing, your eyes heavy.

As you were almost sleeping you felt him leave a kiss on your forehead.

“I will” He whispered and you smiled to yourself, letting yourself fall asleep in his embrace.

☆

☆

☆

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing. Feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading. Xoxo

[ohsc]

₊˚⊹♡ letting you | sam winchester x reader

a/n - this might be the fastest i’ve ever written a fic??? it’s pure filth so that might be why but LMAO, i love love love the idea of soft dom sam sm he melts my brain, hopefully this is good!! getting back into writing after taking a break from being sick bc my brain wouldn’t work. special thanks to my friend who helped me brainstorm the delicious idea ilysm !! <3

cws - fem!reader, 1.6k, nsfw 18+, softdom!sam, sub!reader, cockwarming, masturbation, praise, kinda unedited

other fics can be found on my masterlist

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The only thing she could hear was Sam’s soft breathing, and the soft tap tap tap of his laptop keys behind her.

If she paid close enough attention, she could hear the way his shirt rustled when he moved his arms, the soft fluttering of book pages being turned, but her focus wasn’t really attainable, it was slipping through her fingers with each excruciating moment that she was sat there.

Sam shifted in his seat out of a pure intention to get comfortable, and his cock nudged deeper inside of her wet heat, dragged a soft gasp from her lips, which just earned her a soft “shh, honey” against the shell of her ear.

It had been her fault that she was in that position in the first place. She’d been a little too needy with Sam when he was trying to research, and on her third attempt at trying to initiate a — much needed, mind you — make out, he’d grabbed her hips and tugged her into his lap facing him. His voice had been a little stern as he told her to pull his cock out, and the tone of his voice alone had her cunt clenching around nothing as she quickly did as she’d been asked. She knew that voice, she’d had it in her ear most nights, whispered against her throat, against the plush of her thighs. It meant he was in control.

Sam had sat back from the library's table for enough time for her to pull his cock out and pull aside her panties, sank down onto him with a soft moan, but before she could move he grabbed her hips tightly, kept her still.

“Don’t move,” he’d dipped his head down and kissed her throat, pulse fluttering beneath his lips. “Stay there while I finish up and I’ll take care of you after, hm?”

If she was feeling a bit more bratty she would’ve whined or complained or just moved anyways, but his voice in her ear and his hands on her hips had her head spinning, so she just nodded and tucked her head against his throat as he leaned over her to continue what he was doing, completely focused, as if he wasn’t buried deep inside her pussy at that moment.

That had been twenty minutes ago.

It was becoming torturous.

Sam was unfairly skilled at keeping composed. He was also unfairly skilled at winding her up. Those two went hand in hand, it seemed, because each second that passed just worked her up more and more. All she could focus on was the warmth of his body pressed to hers, his cock nestled deep inside of her, the lack of stimulation. When she’d came out to the library with her attempt at bothering him, she’d craved a genuine release, not this.

Her hips shifted slightly and she squeezed her eyes shut, huffed out a soft “Sammy” against his throat when that slight movement was enough for her pussy to throb around him.

“Stay still.” He murmured without as much of a look in her direction. She glanced up at him and his eyes were locked forwards, pupils shifting left to right as he read whatever was displayed on his laptop screen. Tap tap tap, more pages turned, more reading, rinse, repeat. He was killing her.

Barely a minute had passed before she made another soft sound against the warm skin of his throat, lips brushing his neck, “Baby please-”

“My hands are busy, sweetheart,” his voice was so nonchalant it drove her up the wall. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

Her eyes squeezed shut as she huffed against his throat again. “Can you just take a break?”

“No,” he shook his head. “No, I’m almost done, you’ll just have to wait,” he tsked, a hand briefly pet her hair, the touch so light it was like he was purposely depriving her of any stimulation. “If you’re that needy, you have two hands of your own, baby. Sort yourself out until I’m finished with this.”

She released a shuddered breath against his throat, squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. It wasn’t the answer she’d wanted.

“Hey,” one of his hands came up to the side of her neck and he pressed his thumb against her jaw, tilted her head back until he could meet her eyes. “I told you I’d sort you out once I finished, didn’t I?”

She nodded, bit the inside of her cheek.

“So isn’t it nice of me that I’m letting you get yourself off in the meantime?”

Letting you. Her cunt throbbed again.

“Yeah.” She whispered.

Sam leaned down and kissed her, just a soft little peck, and somehow it just riled her up more. “I’ll be done soon. Go ahead and sort yourself out for me, sweetheart.”

He let go of her jaw and moved his arms to the table again, continued tapping at his laptop, and her eyes scrunched closed again as she tipped forward and rested her forehead against his throat. But she was so needy that she didn’t think twice about following his instructions. One hand stayed tucked at his waist, fingers curled into the soft material of his flannel, and her other reached between them and tucked under the material of her shirt, fingering at the waistband of her panties until she slipped beneath those too, and she was so fucking wet that she was undoubtedly making a mess of his jeans from just sitting there.

Her fingers dipped down, pressed against her clit, and she shuddered as the stimulation made her clench around his cock deliciously. She pressed her fingers forwards again, started to shamelessly rub herself, exhaled soft little moans and sighs against his throat.

Before she could do anything else Sam’s voice was in her ear again, “Quiet, sweetheart. You’re meant to be letting me work, don’t make me tell you to stop.”

Her jaw clenched as she exhaled shakily, eyes squeezed shut, and she huffed a breath against his throat as she took a moment to compose herself. Now that she’d started touching herself, it’d just be a torture to stop, so she just nodded against his throat with the intent to keep herself quiet.

It took a moment for her to settle on a pace. She was a bit too needy with it, her hand squished between their bodies, knuckles pressed to his hard muscles each time she shifted her hand, but eventually she settled into a pace that had her eyes rolled back and squeezed shut, the fingers of her other hand curled tightly into the material of his flannel.

She circled her clit with the pads of her fingers again and again, but it was the feeling inside of her every time her cunt clenched around his cock that made it hard for her to keep quiet. She was half tempted to bite down on his collar to shut herself up, but Sam seemed to be letting her get away with the slight gasps and whimpers that she couldn’t stop herself letting up.

It took an embarrassingly short time for her to get close — her forehead was pressed to his throat, hot breaths puffed out against his skin, trying not to shift her hips as she rubbed at her clit with a need that thrummed within her veins. Her jaw clenched and she held her breath, eyes squeezed shut tighter as she worked herself closer.

“Breathe,” Sam’s breath tickled her ear as he spoke softly. She had a tendency to hold her breath when she came sometimes if she was especially worked up — she didn’t even know Sam was paying attention. She took a shuddery breath, and he murmured a soft, “that’s it.”

It only took a few more circles on her clit before she came and she grit her teeth, huffed out a sharp breath through her nose as the feeling washed over her. Her cunt pulsed in pleasure, waves that kept her rubbing at her clit until it felt too much, and when she finally stopped she was breathing sharply against his neck. Her hand was a bit cramped, fingers wet, heartbeat drumming, but the release felt so nice after she’d been so worked up.

“Good girl,” Sam crooned, and she could’ve cum again at the tone of his voice. “Good girl. Did that help?”

She nodded against his throat, relaxed into his front.

“Yeah?” He asked. “Are you gonna keep still until I’m finished now?”

She nodded again.

“Baby,” she felt his hand smooth up her back until his fingers delicately tangled in her hair, only enough to pull her head back to look at him. “I wanna hear you say it.”

She blinked a few times up at him. He was so devastatingly handsome, it wasn’t fair. “I’ll keep still,” she mumbled, face feeling far too hot. “Promise.”

“Oh, you promise?” She didn’t miss the teasing edge to his words, the smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

She nodded again. “Yeah, Sammy.”

“Good girl,” he praised once more, and was nice enough to give her a proper kiss that time. It still wasn’t what she craved — she didn’t feel his tongue in her mouth, he didn’t kiss her until she went dizzy — but it was nicer and kinder than a little peck. “Ten minutes and I’m all yours.”

She settled back into his chest as he went back to work, comfy to just rest against him in her post-orgasm euphoria, happy to wait the ten minutes until he was finished. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d fucked her on the library table that week.

[cosmicanakin]

𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐆𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐀𝐘 ⟢ | dean winchester.

next part … 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄.

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⟣𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. dean winchester x female reader.

⟣ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. where you accidentally give dean a hard on during a hunt.

⟣ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). sexual tension, strong language, sex innuendos, implied smut.

kari's corner ⟢ ݁⋆ he's been running on my mind all day and i needed to let my thoughts run wild. so enjoy — you'll definitely thank me later!

the hunt had taken an unexpected turn, leaving you and dean pressed up against each other, your back flush against his chest. you shifted slightly, trying to get a better vantage point, when you felt dean's grip tighten on your hips, holding you in place.

"dean—" you began to ask, but the words died on your lips as you felt something hard pressing against you from behind. your eyes widened in realization, heat creeping up your face.

"shit, sweetheart, i'm so sorry," dean murmured, his voice strained. "i didn't mean for that to happen."

you whisper to dean in his ear, "we'll deal with this after the hunt, okay?"

he nodded mutely, your heart racing, already imagining ways to help him with his... situation. a small smile plays on your lips as he replied, "you're the best," he murmurs, hearing the mix of relief and anticipation in his voice.

"of course, dean. i've got you."

dean let out a shaky breath, his grip on your hips tightening ever so slightly.

with that, the two of you turned your focus back to the hunt, both eagerly awaiting the chance to properly address the growing tension between you.

[canyouimaginethatstory]

One Night Standards (Dean X Reader)

Being a hunter was hard and rewarding when you saved someone or stopped a monster but it was incredibly lonely. Loneliness like that could make some ruthless. So one night stands were usually the way to go when seeking an intimate moment. You were no exception of course. Do the deed and go. That's how it worked. And if the time was right you ever only slept with one person when the urge would come. And that was none other than Dean Winchester. He understood the rules of a one night just like you did.

No staying longer than a few hours to overnight. No sharing personal or emotional moments. No romantic gestures. No exchanging numbers or any form of contact. And most importantly no forming feelings. It sounds harsh but in the hunting life romance was an extremely rare occurrence and for most, it ended badly. You and Dean first hooked up when randomly meeting at a bar. You both had different cases in the town you were in. One drink lead to another and you had to admit he was amazing. At first, you two would run into each other at random times and just let yourselves loose with each other for the night. With Dean, it was safe and comforting and man was it the hottest moments you'd ever had. These hookups lead you to break one of the rules. No exchanging contacts.

You hadn't even given it a second thought. Neither of you did. Both thinking you could keep an eye out when you were in the same area and meet up for the random night of passion you've both unknowingly come to crave. Just getting that "wanna get a drink?" text became something you looked forward to upon finding out you two were in the same area.

Having sex with Dean was just pure bliss. The way he touched you. Kissed you. explored your body in ways that always took you way over the edge. It was like Dean Winchester was made for a woman's absolute pleasure. Soon without either of you realizing it the sexual moments you shared became deeper. More affectionate than a typical one night stand should be. This caused you yet again to break another rule unknown to you both. No spending longer than overnight together. It started off as a weekend here and there. But soon you were practically hunting with him and Sam. You went through a lot with the boys. Especially since you and Dean did most of the footwork as Sam stayed back and did research. Which caused yet another rule to secretly become broken. No forming feelings. When they started you didn't notice them at first. But over time you noticed, that you were being affectionate with Dean in ways you never had before. It started with cuddling. Before you and Dean would have sex and then sleep that was it. But lately, you would find yourself snuggled up into his side or he would have his arm over you when you woke up. Then when you two were saying goodbye you would either hug him or he would kiss your cheek. Then more intimate and caring touches happened from giving each other massages when one was sore from a hunt or Dean holding you on the rare occasion you would break down after a rather stressful than usual day.

Then you two started talking. Sharing things and opening up to each other. It flowed so naturally between the two of you. No matter if it was serious or silly it just felt so natural. You kept telling yourself none of it was serious. Then it happened. One night while you and Dean were getting cozy and talking sweetly to each other he made you giggle and three little words slipped right out. Your eyes widened as did Dean's. You panicked and hurried out of the hotel room before he could respond. You ran down the street to the little diner you guys passed on the way to the hotel. You just sat there at a booth for a while sipping on a cup of coffee. You felt so stupid. How could you let that slip out? how could you let yourself fall? You knew better! You sat there scolding yourself until you felt a gentle but firm hand on your shoulder. You looked up and met the bright green eyes you'd come to love getting lost in. He softly smiled at you as he slid into the seat across from you.

You rambled an apology but Dean silenced it by gently grabbing your hand. He looked at you softly and it oddly helped calm you. He brought your hand up to his lips and placed a feather light kiss on your knuckles before repeating those same three words back. "I love you too,".

MASTER LIST: Here

PROMPT EVENT: Here

REQUEST INFO: Here

1K FOLLOWER WORD PROMPT EVENT: Here

[zepskies]

Headcanon: Wearing His Clothes

Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

AN: I haven't done one of these in a while! This one was requested by the lovely @luci-in-trenchcoats. 💜

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Fluff, spiciness/implied smut

Headcanon: How Dean, Beau, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to you (getting caught) wearing his clothes.

Dean Winchester

Ugh, what a cocky SOB. 😆 (And yet, not the cockiest of them all.)

You've been doing it for weeks now, without comment from him.

But every time he sees you in one of his undershirts, getting ready for bed, it's always accompanied by a little once-over. A curve of his lips. A smirk, if you will.

He likes the look of you.

He likes that you're his.

And he likes the fact that you feel comfortable enough to steal his clothes.

He also likes welcoming you into bed next to him, with a hand running up your back, or venturing under whatever undershirt you've decided to slip on to feel the warmth of your skin.

"'S this mine?" he asks. You give him a quirking smile.

"You know it is," you say, with playful challenge.

Dean accepts that with a hum and leans in for a kiss as payment.

Sometimes that one stolen kiss leads to another, simmering with heat. And he’ll take great pleasure in taking back his shirt, casting it to the floor and rolling you underneath him on the bed.

But it doesn't stop at his undershirts. You steal his plaid ones if you want something to comfortably drown in when you're doing research, or just lounging in the bunker. The material is soft from several hundred washes. (The red and black one is one of your favorites.)

Rare though it is for him to wear hoodies, it's rarer still, because Dean can never even find one in his side of the dresser.

That's because you're keeping it hostage on your side, buried under your lingerie. (Even if he tried to find the hoodie, odds are he’ll get distracted.)

It gets to the point where he can hardly find anything of his.

His brows furrow as he rucks through his drawers for something clean to wear, while clad in only his most threadbare sweatpants.

"Damn it, woman. Where are my shirts?" he grouses.

You bite your lip and pretend to keep reading your book. You're already safe in bed, covered up to your chest by the blankets.

"I don't know. Have you done your laundry?" you ask, smiling to yourself. Dean catches you, with a suspicious brow raise.

He climbs into bed and snatches the covers away from you. You yelp at the suddenness and try to grab at them, but it's too late.

He discovers that you're wearing one of his newer shirts, which he had to buy to replace the ones he just can't seem to find.

"Are you kidding me? This is Theft in the First goddamn Degree!" he exclaims, even though he's close to laughing at the way you're already giggling. He manages to pin you underneath him on the bed, and he has half a mind to take this shirt back as well, by whatever means necessary.

And yes, tickling is one of those means.

"Sweetheart, for the love of God. Why do you keep taking my shit?" he asks, in a way that's half-serious in his frustration, but also half-teasing.

You shrug shamelessly, still smiling. You run your hands up his bare arms and shoulders, and back down his chest.

"I don't know. It's comfortable," you say. But your eyes lower as your face begins to warm with a blush. "Makes me feel safe...like you're always with me."

At that, the tension in Dean's shoulders eases. His smile can't help but soften around the edges as he looks down on you, now with fondness. After a while, he lets out a deep sigh.

"All right," he says.

You grin, because you know he's given up. You lean up for a kiss that successfully distracts him.

Dean still gets annoyed sometimes when he can't find a specific item of clothing in his drawer, but now, all he has to do is go over to your side of the dresser.

There he knows he'll eventually find what he's looking for.

Beau Arlen

Heh, in this episode of “Whose Hat is it Anyway”...

Beau's wardrobe reminds you of a cowboy in modern times.

Lots of browns and beiges, lots of slacks and buttoned-down shirts tucked in with an army of belts to choose from (even though the man only owns a few pairs of boots). Not to mention a slew of jackets that often pull the look together.

But being that he's new to Montana (specifically, Montana winters), you like to buy him sweaters. Cable-knits and soft ones in earth tones that you think bring out his eyes.

Beau accepts whatever you get him and graciously wears them. He trusts your judgment on what looks good on him, and he appreciates the way you think of him.

It's just one of those ways, however small, that you show that you care and that you're looking out for him.

One night while he's working late, however, you find yourself trying to reorganize the closet. The man is "organized chaos" at best, and you find one of his sweaters on the floor. It's a nice burgundy one that you bought him recently.

Ooh, so soft, you think, while feeling the fabric between your fingers.

You don't know what possesses you, but you decide to slip out of your pajamas and try it on yourself.

SO damn soft, you realize, as you practically drown in the sweater. It hangs about to mid-thigh.

Then you see one of his beige Stetsons hanging on the wall. A sneaking smile curves your lips, before you slip on his hat.

To complete the ensemble, you dig into the recesses of your closet and find a pair of your old cowboy boots. You go out into the bedroom and check yourself out in the mirror with a growing smirk.

"Hey there, darlin'," you try to impersonate your boyfriend's subtle Texan twang, and even his mannerisms by winking at yourself, tipping the hat forward.

You giggle at your own silliness in this moment, but alone in your own house, who freakin' cares? You should feel free to dance naked through the whole damn place if you feel like it.

So you spin on your heel and do a little twirl in your boots.

"Who's the sheriff now, huh?" You mime a pair of guns with your hands and shoot at your reflection. "Psh, psh!"

But that's when you catch sight of one Beau Arlen, leaning against the bedroom doorway with his arms crossed. An amused grin is plastered to his face.

You freeze in shock, still with your "gun hands" held up.

"Oh, don't stop the show on my account," Beau says slyly. He gestures at you. "Please, continue."

Your hot blush spreads from your cheeks and quickly begins to travel down your neck. "Uh...I was just...you know, cleaning the closet. You're very messy, you know!"

Beau snorts and draws closer. Those green eyes of his take in the full sight of you, down your bare thighs and cowboy boots, and back up to your embarrassed face. You bite your bottom lip on reflex.

"You know, I like what you got goin' on here," he says, waving a hand down your form. "But it's just...it's missing something."

He takes his badge with the gold star off his belt and pins it to your sweater.

"There you go. Perfect fit," he says, even as his hand slides up the slope of your back. You find yourself pulled further into his orbit as you try (and fail) to stamp down a smile.

"You're late, you know," you remind him. Beau bows his head and presses a kiss into your neck. You feel his smirk there.

"I'm sorry, Sheriff. Gonna arrest me, or let me off with a warning?" he teases. His other hand comes up to adjust the hat on your head. You smirk and cling to his arms over his dark brown jacket. It's one of his nicer ones.

"I think I can let you off," you play along. You lean up to skim your lips across his cheek, and closer to his ear. "But only for good behavior."

He has to chuckle then. "I can accept those terms..."

Beau's hands slip under your stolen sweater and begin to slide it up your body, inch by inch.

"Though I'm gonna need you to keep the boots on," he says lowly, just before he claims you with a searing kiss.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Oh, here we go. 😅

As with most things, it's a point of pride for Ben.

He'd prefer you be too fucked out to move, let alone put on clothes after he's finished with you.

On the rare occasion that your body doesn't feel too much like warm molasses after a few hot rounds with your boyfriend, you like to at least grab one of his discarded shirts to cover yourself.

If he still has energy, he'll take that as a challenge. He'll try to slip his hands underneath whatever shirt you've found and divest you of it, so he can start devouring you again.

However. Ben does like seeing you in his clothes, in a possessive, claiming way.

There are days when you just want to be swallowed up in one of his large, comfortable shirts as you lounge about the house.

Ben sometimes watches you putter around, cleaning, working, cooking, reading, or watching TV in nothing but his clothes. He wonders if you're even wearing panties. You could be bare faced with a severe case of bed head, but his eyes will still occasionally follow you.

His expression doesn't reveal too much, but he likes it. (And because you know him, you know it too.)

Maybe he'll catch you as you pass by, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. You startle with a yelp, but then you grab onto his arms and smile.

"Can I help you, sir?" you tease.

"Think you can just walk by me, looking sexy as fuck?" he remarks. He steals a slow, thorough kiss. You cup his face and bring him back in for more, tenderly stroking his cheek.

"You know why I like wearing your stuff?" you ask. Your smile hints at teasing.

Ben arches a brow. "Why?"

"Because it keeps you looking," you reply. And you reach a hand around to slap his ass, for good measure.

Then you saunter away from him to get back to what you were doing.

Or at least, you try to.

Ben grabs your hand and pulls you back towards him, back into the cage of his arms, where he falls back into the trap you've so often laid. And he finishes what you started.

AN: Well, then. 😂 I hope you guys enjoy this! Who had your favorite reaction: Dean, Beau, or Ben? 😘

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Big Sky Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean, Beau + Soldier Boy Tag List (Part 1)

@melancholictearz @spnwoman @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @rizlowwritessortof @anticxrrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky

@teehxk @midnightmadwoman @agalliasi @venicesem @deans-spinster-witch

@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx

@mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken

@deanfreakingwinchester @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore

@agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @emily-winchester

@tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @dope-trope-105 @liuope @beautyvaliant

@xxlaynaxx @beskarfilms @tmb510 @iamsapphine @roseblue373

@lacilou @jackles010378 @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse

[fluffsnake]

[phrysic]

food for the soul

[little-diable]

Mine to Claim - Dean Winchester (smut)

While I'm still wondering if I should write for James Beaufort, I decided to run with the enemies to lovers theme for Dean. I know y'all love jealous Dean as much as I do. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader wants Sam to have a nice birthday, but all she can focus on is Dean, the man she had always sworn to hate, the man who gets all possessive as soon as somebody else finds her interesting enough to chat her up.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, thigh riding, full on jealous Dean, Dean's a bit of a dick in the beginning, possessiveness, fluffy end

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (about 4k words)

“A party? And who should we invite, huh?” Dean’s voice filled the library. He had his feet placed on the table, arms crossed in front of his chest while nursing his second beer of the night. 

(Y/n) had her eyes focused on the laptop, typing away as she tried to pierce ideas together to celebrate Sam’s birthday. But while she was set on putting something special together, trying to trap the man she couldn’t stand into helping her, Dean could only give room to annoying comments. 

“How about some werewolves, vampires maybe or a wendigo to make this exciting!” Sarcasm dripped from Dean’s words, leaving her groaning as she finally looked at the handsome Winchester brother. The two of them had never been fans of one another, but while (y/n) generally tried to keep her distance, Dean was set on annoying her at any given chance. She had lost count of the dates he had ruined for her, the friendships she had tried to build but had been torn down by him, no matter what she tried to do, Dean was always right there to cross her plans.

“Have you always been such an asshole or have you just not outgrown your teenager phase yet?” She shifted her weight onto her forearms while staring at Dean as if he was the most fascinating thing she had ever seen. His eyes had a twinkle to them as he mimicked her movements, taking his feet off the table to lean further towards her. 

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart, we both know you enjoy our dynamic more than you let others believe. You have never been good at hiding your crush on me.” The angry scoff clawing through (y/n) forced a chuckle out of Dean, who looked at her as if he had just goaled a win. Whenever he managed to rile her up, to get her angrier by the second, his smirk would grow as if he was proud of himself for getting under her skin like that. 

“Fuck you, Dean!” She rose to her feet, unexpectedly to Dean who now studied her with confusion laced in his gaze. “I’ll just take Sam out for dinner, anywhere without you near will be good enough.” 

(Y/n) tried to walk past him with angry tears welling up in her eyes, but she didn’t manage to get far, forced to a halt by the hand clamping down on her wrist. Dean stared up at her with an unreadable expression, shooting shudders down her spine while she tried to rip herself free. Something inside of her told her that he was close to apologising, urged on by the guilt he may feel, but the moment passed within seconds, forcing his smirk back to his lips.

“Dream of me tonight, sweetheart. But first, tell me, do you still sleep in my shirt?” The angry huff clawing through her made Dean chuckle, watching her rip herself free before storming out of the room. Her heart was aching in her chest, pounding against her ribs while her feet carried her towards her room. 

With her laptop tossed onto her bed, (y/n) allowed her tears to fall, urged on by her anger and confusion, torn between the way she had always detested Dean and the silent longing for him and his closeness. God, she hated him, hated him more than words could ever express, and yet a small, fucked up part of her wanted him and every part of him. 

It was time to finally get over Dean Winchester and the confusing emotions he pushed through her. 

……

“Thank you for this, (y/n). This is by far the best birthday I ever had.” Sam squeezed her shoulder as she looked up at him with a proud grin. She shot Sam another smile before she let her gaze wander, finding Dean’s frame. Even though she had tried to lure Sam away from his brother, knowing that the night wouldn’t end well if she and Dean would have to spend it together, Sam had begged her to take his brother with them, ending up at this very bar.

“Let me get you another beer, birthday boy. I’ll be back in a second.” (Y/n) rose to her feet with an unwavering smile, pushing past a few people to reach the bar. Music rang in her ears, not loud enough to leave her body buzzing, yet just enough to distract her from her wandering thoughts. 

“Hey,” an unfamiliar voice forced her attention away from the bartender, waiting for her to make her way towards (y/n). A guy was standing close to her, he was a bit taller than her, a handsome face she smiled at. “Is that your boyfriend?”

He tilted his head towards Sam, leaving her chuckling as (y/n) shook her head no. A relieved smile managed to find its way to the guy’s lips, he was visibly relaxing while taking a step closer. Even though her body begged her to chase the distance, her mind urged her to stay right where she was, reminding her of her promise to finally find a distraction from Dean Winchester.

“Are you from around here?” She kept her voice quiet as she studied the guy, the plaid shirt he wore and those dark jeans that had a similar touch to the ones Dean currently wore. For a second, she let her eyes wander, not paying attention to the words the guy spoke, but Dean was nowhere to be found, disappearing from her sight. 

“It’s my friend’s birthday today, so I’ll have to get back to him.” (Y/n) mumbled while she shot the guy another smile. She turned towards the bartender to speak her order before the guy could gain her attention again, with his phone in his hand.

“Give me your number, maybe I can take you out for dinner or something?” The soft chuckle leaving her made him smile, watching her type her number into his phone before reaching for the two bottles of beer. She took a step away from him, with her gaze still focused on him, but the second she turned away, (y/n) stumbled into a broad chest, having to tighten her grasp on the bottles before she could drop them. 

Wide eyes found a pair of familiar green ones, getting lost in the darkening pupils for a moment or two. Dean’s jaw muscles were ticking in anger as his gaze flickered between (y/n) and the guy she had been talking to. It took her a moment to rip herself out of her frozen state before she tried to push past Dean, though without any luck. 

“What did he want from you?” Dean’s voice had something to it she couldn’t pinpoint, something that left her insides churning; something that left her straightening her spine. Her eyes wandered over his angry features, allowing her to take in his handsome features. If he weren’t such an asshole to her, she would have instantly fallen hard for him, begging the man for a chance to love him like he deserved to be loved. 

“That’s nothing of your concern, Dean. Let me go.” But Dean didn’t give in, he tightened his grip on her arm to pull her even closer. 

“Oh, but we both know that it is, sweetheart.” She couldn’t find a reply, the words were stolen right from her as his lips graced her warm cheek with his eyes set on the guy who was still watching the two. And with another squeeze of her arm, he finally let go of her, only to gently push her into Sam’s direction. 

……

She woke with a groan, forcing her eyes open to take in the darkness surrounding her. Slowly, (y/n) rolled onto her side to reach for her phone, reading the time. It was in the middle of the night, only a few hours after they had found their way back home from the bar. 

Since that moment with Dean, (y/n) had been deep in thought, not understanding the way he had behaved at the bar. She crawled out of her bed with a sigh, set on grabbing a new glass of water to clear her thoughts. Still surrounded by darkness, she made her way to the kitchen, carried by tired limbs that begged her to make it back to bed. 

“I knew you were still stealing my shirts.” Dean’s voice left her jumping, ripping a squeal out of her as she turned towards him. He was leaning against the table, arms crossed in front of his chest, eyes set on her frame. Heat rose to her features as she remembered that she was once again wearing a shirt of his, and nothing more. 

“You jerk, why do you always have to scare me like that?” He walked closer to her, allowing her to find his pupils. His chest was almost pushed against hers while he wordlessly stared down at (y/n). She was close to speaking up again, set on throwing another insult his way to get herself out of this situation before she could say or do something stupid. But the second his hands found her waist to heave her onto the cold kitchen island, she forgot every word she had planned to speak. 

“Did that guy call you?” His voice was raspy, making goosebumps appear on her exposed skin. (Y/n) could barely focus on his voice, distracted by the feeling of Dean lingering between her spread thighs and the way he grasped her hips with his big hands. 

“Maybe he did, so what?” His tongue kissed his teeth while he pondered over her words, staring at (y/n) with something she’d dream of for a while. It felt like heaven and hell were clashing, forcing them to balance a strong energy neither had felt before. It drew them closer with every passing second, growing between them while both could only endure its strength. 

“You’ll lose his number.” It was a simple command, words that drew a soft laugh out of (y/n) while she shook her head no. A laugh that lost its strength as Dean’s big hand found her throat, forcing her to quiet down. Her pupils grew wider at the touch, drawing a shaky breath out of (y/n). “He’ll never have you.”

“And you will?” She could only whisper her question, words that left Dean smirking as he dipped his head down. He was close to kissing her, lips ghosting over hers while her heart picked up its beat. 

“We both know that I already have you.” With one last squeeze of her throat, Dean pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips before letting go of her. (Y/n) was at loss for words, could only watch him take another step away from her with his teeth buried in his grinning lower lip, front still turned in her direction. 

(Y/n) needed a handful of seconds before she snapped into motion, jumping off the metallic kitchen island to haul herself into his space, lips finding his with her arms wrapped around his neck. Dean instantly replied to the kiss with one hand placed on her waist and the other cupping the back of her head to keep her close. Their tongues met to deepen the kiss, leaving both groaning at the new sensation. 

“I belong to nobody and if you keep on being such an asshole to me, you’ll be the last person to ever have me.” She mumbled the words against his lips before pushing him away, leaving Dean breathless while she walked back to her room with a smile glued to her slightly swollen lips. 

……

Music filled her room, cozying (y/n) along while she was reading. It had been hours since her kiss with Dean, a memory that left her buzzing with nerves whenever her mind took her back to those minutes. She was proud of herself for finding the confidence at that time, for pushing him away after a kiss she longed to experience again. 

His lips had felt all too soft, a perfect kiss she had always read of in books but had never experienced herself–until that very moment. He had tasted of beer and home, a strange sensation she hadn’t been able to shake so far. 

A soft knock forced her out of her thoughts, eyes flickering towards her door to watch Dean step into the room. They hadn’t shared a single word since that kiss, while she had hid herself in her room, Dean had given her enough space to sort through the chaos both were stuck in now. 

He closed the door behind himself before walking towards her bed. (Y/n) could only watch as he plopped down on her bed, gently taking her book to place it on her nightstand before pulling her into his chest. She could hear his heart racing as both were laying there in silence. 

“What are you doing, Dean?” (Y/n) shifted on his chest, eyes finding his while he kept his hand placed on her side. He stayed quiet, seemingly deep in thought with his eyes set on the ceiling rather than her face. 

(Y/n) barely allowed herself to properly look at Dean, to take in the beauty of the man who made her feel the most confusing emotions imaginable. She wanted to count his freckles, every single one of them reminding her of a galaxy million of lightyears away, each telling its own story. She wanted to get lost in the green eyes reminding her of a forest that had seen the most gruesome things and yet still managed to offer a home to those needing shelter. She wanted to kiss those plush lips again that made her feel more alive than she had ever felt before.

“I,” he cleared his throat as if he was trying to rip himself out of a trap, forcing his eyes back down to meet hers. “Somewhere along the way, since meeting you, I’ve realised that it’s much easier to rile you up, to annoy you and have you as an enemy rather than admit my feelings to you but also to myself. From the first day we met you at that diner, I knew I had found my match, the one who finally belongs to me. But fuck, my anxiety got the best of me, and I began spiralling. It was fucking immature of me, but I couldn’t stop, not as long as I couldn’t accept that I’ve loved you for years.” 

Tears welled up in her eyes as she pondered over his confession, the words that cut deeper than she liked to admit. Dean’s thumb wiped away her falling tear while tightening his grip on her. Both were choked up, struggling to keep on speaking as silence engulfed them once again. The seconds kept fading by, moments she desperately needed to sort through her confusion, the words she wanted to speak but was unsure of. 

“And you’re ready to accept it now?” (Y/n)’s voice trembled, buzzing through her body like lightning set on burning holes into her skin. Dean’s hand stroked up her spine until he found the back of her neck, pressing (y/n) close to kiss her softly. It took her a few seconds to let her lips move, tongues meeting much slower than they had for their first kiss.

“If you’ll let me love you like you deserve to be loved, I am ready to accept it and fight for it.” A part of her knew that she should leave his side, kick him out of the room, and curse him for thinking she’d ever give him a chance, but the other, bigger part, begged her to give in, to finally grasp this chance she had silently hoped for whenever her anger turned into desperation and longings. 

“Kiss me, Dean.” He didn’t need to be told twice. Dean dipped his head down to kiss her with one hand finding her cheek. It wasn’t a soft kiss, fuelled by unspoken emotions and longings, and yet both took their time to properly explore their newfound territory. Carefully, Dean pushed her off his chest to hover over her with one leg finding its way between her thighs.

They didn’t break the kiss as he softly pressed his thigh against her heat, drawing a moan from (y/n) at the sudden contact. Heat buzzed through her body, down her spine and straight to her pulsing bundle. (Y/n) tried to push herself closer, moving with just enough strength to moan once again. 

“Can you make yourself cum on my thigh, sweetheart? Show me how much you need to be touched.” Her eyes found his stormy ones, getting lost in the rich colour for a second before a shaky exhale left her. (Y/n) pulled Dean down for another kiss while she moved against his thigh again, supported by him as he met her movements with more urgency.

Her body was burning, shaking from the excitement she couldn’t let go of; the anticipation pushing her towards the edge she’d fall from at least two times that day. Dean kissed his way down her throat, sucking on the spots that made her arch her back off the mattress. Goosebumps covered her body while she lost grip on reality, allowing her body to move without her mind’s guidance while searching for that high she could already feel creeping closer. 

“Such a good girl, look at how perfect you look, fuck, I can’t wait to see you all done with my cock buried inside of you.” He rasped the words against her ear, forcing (y/n)’s hands to find his forearms to hold on, clawing her fingernails into his skin. She was close already, about to let go with his name rolling off her tongue as the fabric offered just enough friction to make her gasp. 

His name rolled off her tongue as she came, eyes squeezed shut, back arched, toes curled. Dean could only stare down at her, mesmerised by the sight he’d take to the grave, forever remembering the first time he made her cum. With his lips meeting hers again, he managed to rip her out of her hazy daze, forcing her hands to move as they tugged on his shirt. 

They parted for a moment, allowing Dean to get rid of his shirt and his trousers, while she mimicked his movements, undressing herself with trembling fingers. Her mind was racing, leaving her buzzing as it slowly began to dawn on her what was about to happen, that she was about to let the man she had hated for years fuck her. 

“Tell me you want this as much as I do. I won’t touch you otherwise.” Dean’s murmured words made a smile widen on her lips. Even though she struggled to reply, eyes and mind fully focused on his naked body, the muscles she wanted to kiss, the cock that grew harder with every passing second, she parted her swollen lips. 

“I want you, Dean, mark me up.” With his grin glued to his lips, he watched her reach for a condom, rolling it down his cock to draw a soft groan from him. They held eye contact as he positioned himself on top of her, letting his fingers brush through her dripping slit for a moment before finally pushing into her. 

Groans and moans left the two at the new sensation, with her walls fluttering around him and his cock disappearing further and further inside of her. Dean pressed his forehead against hers as a deep exhale left her as if she needed to relax, to tell herself that everything was alright. He moved slowly, careful at first, giving (y/n) enough time to adjust while their bodies kept meeting with every thrust. 

“Fuck, you feel so perfect.” Dean’s words drew a small chuckle out of (y/n). Her arms found their way around his neck, letting her fingernails scratch at his skin on their way up his neck. The second she found his roots to tug on them, Dean added more speed to his thrusts, set on leaving marks just like she had asked him to. 

She was about to moan his name, about to beg Dean to move faster, but the sound of her ringing phone forced her attention away from him. For a second, his pace began to falter, but then a smirk widened on his lips. 

“Who is it?” Her wide eyes found their way back to his. 

“The guy from the bar.” She was breathless, struggled to reply while a desperate whine left her. She needed Dean to move again, to push her closer to the edge with his cock buried deep inside of her. 

“Pick up.” Confusion was laced in her gaze as she watched Dean reach for the phone. He answered the call before he pushed it into her direction. They held eye contact as he began to move once again, fucking her even deeper than before.

“Hi, (y/n). I wanted to ask if you’re free tonight? I’d like to take you out for dinner.” (Y/n) struggled to stop her moans from leaving her, not wanting to give away what she and Dean were currently doing–even though Dean was clearly set on proving to the guy that she was now taken. 

“Hi, listen,” Dean’s thrust met her swollen spot the second she began speaking, drawing a moan from her she couldn’t bite down. Embarrassment was about to flush through her, widening her pupils while Dean’s smirk kept growing bigger. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Another moan left her as Dean met that spot again and again, letting the phone fall from her hands while hoping that the guy would simply hang up. No longer could she care about anything but the way Dean fucked her, letting his fingers meet her pulsing bundle to give her the needed push. 

“Cum for me, baby.” His lips met hers as she came, swallowing her moans while he fucked her through the sensation. (Y/n)’s body was buzzing, trembling beneath Dean as he searched his own high with fast thrusts that left her whimpering. He came with a groan moments later, thrown over the edge. 

“Fuck, that was something.” His husky words left her chuckling. She watched him roll off her to get rid of the condom before finding his way back to her bed. Dean’s warmth engulfed her, his arms pulled her against his chest as he pressed a kiss to her hairline. 

“We still have to talk about all of this.” (Y/n) whispered words drew a hum from Dean, who found himself being pulled back into his hazy thoughts. 

“I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness, I promise, sweetheart.” Her eyes flickered up to meet his, studying the unreadable expression he wore. 

“As long as you keep touching me like that I’m sure we’ll find a way.”