#amanda's 200 followers 90's baby challenge
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Sometimes I Don’t Run
Characters/Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader
Warnings: Smut, slight angst maybe, little bit of fluff
Word count: 906
A/N: This is my contribution for @megansescape ‘s 300 challenge and @iwriteaboutdean Amanda’s 200 Follower 90′s Baby Challenge I now realize I never asked you guys if it was okay to combine your challenges, I’m so sorry!!
Songs promps:
Runnin’ by Adam Lambert
Sometimes by Britney Spears
Sometimes I Don’t Run
He turns around in your arms, silently, knowing how much you like to be the big spoon and you wrap one arm around him, slipping under his heavy arm in order for your hand to rest on his strong chest. Your other hand, the one trapped between your bodies caresses his naked back, sliding under the waistband of his boxers.
Your fingertips dance over his chest, drawing shapeless lines, curling the already curled soft hairs. unconsciously, or not so much, you grace the soft tissue that is his nipple and rejoy at the feeling of his muscles tightening under your touch.
He hisses when you do it again and immediately you press your lips against the taut skin of his broad back, inhaling deeply the scent that is all him. Your own lower stomach coils. Forefinger and thumb close around the hard little pebble, twisting and turning, earning softs whimpers from him and an involuntary thrust of his hips.
Sam moans your name as you do it once more and your other hand goes lower, scratching his butt, making him squirm. As your tongue darts out to lick his now sweaty skin the hand on his chest travels south, lovingly tracing a path down his stomach. The sweet noises he makes turn you on even more.
The moment your fingers follow the marked line of skin under the elastic band, Sam bends forwards, sucking a breath through clenched teeth, pushing his ass closer to you.
You bite your lower lip feeling your underwear grow damp at the sudden rush of arousal pooling from you. Without hesitation your hand passes the fabric barrier and your fingers wrap around the base of his stiff cock.
“Fuck!” Sam swears and you start to move, leisurely up and down, torturing him with a slow movement instead of providing any real pressure.
His big hand finds the back of your ass and he pulls you closer to him. “Ugh. Don’t stop!” he begs when you still your movements for just a second, waiting for whatever he might wanted to do as his head turned around.
You move faster, tightening your grip around him, as your hand gets higher up his shaft you feel the small cold patch of wet fabric, dying for a taste of his delicious precum.
“I wanna see you. Kiss you!” he states before turning around completely, taking you by surprise.
You act quickly, when he tries to sit up, both hands on his chest push him right back, the slick in your right hand making a little difficult by causing you to slip a bit. With your legs at both sides of his hips you climb on top of him, dragging his underwear down his thighs and pulling your to the side.
A strangled cry leaves you mouth as you sink down, taking all of him. And with every rock of your hips Sam moans. His hands move all over your body, alternating from fondling your breasts, pinching your nipples, circling your clit over the soaked material covering it or just tugging at your skin.
Overwhelmed by the moment when you both reach your peaks together, Sam’s mouth repeats the words, those you’re not quite ready to speak yet.
“I love you, Y/N” they just spill from his lips, the way his seed did seconds ago inside you.
Heaving, from the exercise and the tight pressure on your chest you roll to the side, leaving the mess on him as you run to the bathroom.
It takes you more than just a few minutes to gather yourself up and get up from the toilet. Letting the cold water run, you splash your heated face and open your eyes, to stare at your own reflection.
“You can’t keep doing this, Y/N,” you wipe your face with a wet hand.
Your lower lip trembles as you take a sip of water with one of the glasses above the small counter, and you take in ragged breath. This is it, you can’t postpone it any longer. You know deep inside you feel the same, but you can’t just say it…
When you finally leave the bathroom, Sam’s already asleep, on his side, his back to you. Your eyes take in the beautiful scene. The way his body rises and then falls as he breath, so at ease.
My heart's beating faster, I know what I'm after. I've been standing here my whole life, Everything I've seen twice, now it's time I realize It's spinnin' back around now, on this road I'm crawling Save me cause I'm falling, now I can't seem to breathe right Cause I keep runnin', runnin', runnin', runnin' Runnin' from my heart.
Your legs take you to the corner of the room, where your duffle bag is, you dig for a clean shirt and pull it over your head.
Sam’s always so warmth to the touch and it makes it so simple for you to cuddle him, be the big spoon. As your arms wrap around his waist, you peek up to make sure he is indeed sleeping.
You lay down, burying yourself deeper beneath his big body. “I love you,” your voice is barely a whisper and your heart stops when a little snore is heard. After a few minutes you drift off.
Sam’s hand lands on yours, never caring about the sweat his skin gathers under your touch. He sighs, containing his happiness.
Just hang around and you'll see There's nowhere I'd rather be If you love me, trust in me The way that I trust in you
He knows how hard it is for you, to open up and show the way you really feel, and he knows you have the tendency to run away when it becomes too much. That’s why he won’t ever push you, and gladly takes whatever you give him. Even if it is only when you think he’s not listening.
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#megansescape 300 challenge#amanda's 200 followers 90's baby challenge#megansescape#iwriteraboutdean#Sometimes I Don't Run#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester smut#sam winchester fluff#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural one shot#supernatural smut#supernatural fluff#spn one shot#sam winchester one shot
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Ironic
Summary: The reader is in the bunker tidying up when Castiel pops in surprising her and catching her singing along to a song that he struggles to understand.
Characters/Pairings: Pre-Castiel x Reader (they like each other but no one is talking or even really thinking about that)
Word Count: 988
Warnings: None? It’s really quite fluffy.
A/N: This is my (late) entry for @iwriteaboutdean’s 200 followers celebration! My 90s song was “Ironic” by Alanis Morissette. 2 Cas song fics in just a few days! Aren’t you lucky ducks?? (Or maybe not? Maybe you don’t like Cas fics. Or song fics. Or my writing. Who knows? Only you!) I’m feeling really goofy today... sorry you had to deal with that if you made it this far into reading the A/N...
Ironic -
You were alone in the bunker. Sam and Dean were off having some brotherly bonding on a vampire case - a milk run, they had assured you - and you were bopping around the bunker cleaning and jamming to your 90s playlist. The playlist had everything from Cher to Salt ‘N’ Pepa, from Britney Spears to Matchbox 20 and you loved it. The music from the 90’s was some of your favorite but you rarely got to listen to it; “driver picks the music,” and all that. Since Dean wasn’t home to complain and inflict his enjoyable but limited taste in music on you, you’d decided to ditch the headphones in favor of a bluetooth speaker and you were washing dishes and singing along at the top of your lungs.
“It’s like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife. It’s meeting the man of my dreams and then meeting his beautiful wife… And isn’t it ironic; don’t you think? A little too ironic; yeah, I really do think…”
Alanis Morissette was your jam and when the music picked up as it headed towards the end of the song, you really started getting into it.
“It’s like rain on your wedding day! It’s a free ride when you’ve already paid! It’s the good advice that you just didn’t take! And who would have thought? It figures!”
About half a minute later the song ended and you still had a few dishes left to wash. “Ironic” was the last song on the playlist and the room was silent apart from the sloshing water in the sink.
“When the playlist ends but the dishes aren’t done…” you sang quietly to the rhythm of the song, chuckling to yourself.
“I don’t understand,” a gravelly voice said from behind you, causing you to drop the glass you were washing. You whipped around to face the intruder as the glass shattered in the sink. Your mind quickly ran through all of the options you had at your disposal for protection. The easiest would be to grab a shard of glass from the sink and use it like a knife but you ran the risk of cutting yourself that way. You hadn’t washed any sharp knives, though, and those were stored across the kitchen from where you were working...
“None of those scenarios were ironic. The entire song is a series of unfortunate coincidences.”
“Cas!” you shrieked, your hand flying up to your chest where you heart was pounding. “How long have you been standing there? You can’t sneak up on people like that! What if I’d had a gun? I could have shot you!”
“I’ve been here long enough to hear that song. Your singing was quite enthusiastic,” the angel informed you. “Unlike that song, this is irony. Situational irony if we’re being specific,”
You didn’t respond. Instead, you just stared at him with wide eyes so Castiel continued to explain, assuming you didn’t understand what he was getting at.
“My presence was meant to be comforting but it’s had the opposite effect. Your quickened breathing, elevated heart rate, and hypothetical threat to shoot me when you logically know bullets can’t hurt me are all ironic responses considering my intention to spend a relaxing evening with you.”
You continued to stare at Cas, your mouth agape as silence stretched out between you. Just as the angel was about to speak again, a laugh bubbled up from your chest. One laugh led to another and, eventually, you were laughing hysterically in the kitchen until you were gasping for breath.
“Are you alright?” Castiel asked, reaching towards you as you doubled over in laughter. His concern only made you giggle more and he observed you as if he were trying to find something that he could heal with his grace. That reaction only served to make you laugh harder.
“I’m fine, Cas,” you squeaked out amid your giggles.
The angel was still staring at you with a look of consternation so you forced yourself to calm down and talk to him.
“Seriously, I’m fine,” you assured him. “You were just taking the song so seriously, I was so freaked out, and the moment was so absurd… I got the giggles. A relaxing night with you sounds wonderful.” You rose up on your tiptoes and gave Cas a peck on the cheek, a recent development in your friendship. “I just need to clean up this glass first.”
Cas waved his hand. “It’s done,” he told you, taking your hand in his and leading you into your bedroom.
You crossed the room and flipped on the tv and dvd player. You had introduced Cas to your favorite television show and the next time he had popped into the bunker, he had brought back the series on dvd so that you could watch it whenever you wanted. Since he had enjoyed the handful of episodes he had watched with you, you decided that the best way to thank him for the gift was to do a series rewatch with Cas whenever he was around for a few hours.
You started the next episode and joined the angel on the bed. You had started the series sitting on opposite sides of the bed but as it had progressed, the two of you had started getting closer, both physically and emotionally, and now you would share one another’s space while you watched television together. About fifteen minutes into the show, your head was leaning on Castiel’s shoulder and he had an arm wrapped tightly around you.
“I understand,” Cas said suddenly, looking down at you with a revelatory smile on his face. “The irony is that none of the situations are ironic. The entirety of the song is verbal irony.”
You fell into a fit of giggles again, burying your face in Castiel’s arm to muffle the sound until you could calm down and watch your show with your angel.
ALL THE TAGS! (forevers): @deathtonormalcy56 @supernaturalyobsessed @roxy-davenport @sumara62 @ginamsmith
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#amanda's 200 follower 90's baby challenge#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural#SPN#spn fanfic#castiel#castiel x reader#reader insert#spn fanfic pond#guppy fic#90s song#song fic#ironic#fics by Rev
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Meant For You
This is for @iwriteaboutdean, congrats on your 200 Sweetheart, you deserve so many more, thank you for creating a wonderful challenge and allowing me to finally write this idea. Word Count: 7275 Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam, Mom & Momma K (ofc), John, others mentioned Warnings: angst (you’ll need tissues), suicide, maybe fluff, little bit of smut, supernatural violence Summary: When you spend your whole life connected to someone, you believe they're going to be around forever. And that's okay, when they believe it too. But when a deal is made that rips them from you, how do you go on? A/N: I’ve borrowed this idea from a movie (In Your Eyes), just to be honest with you. I’ve played with this thought for quite a while, and this song seemed to scream for it. The biggest THANK YOU to @avasmommy224 for being there from the beginning, I wrote something, I asked for brutal honesty, and you gave me the shove I needed and wrung this out of me. Thank you for being my brilliant beta as well. Flashbacks are in Italics. And lyrics are in bold.
Mom was saying goodbye to everyone who’d come for my fourth birthday. Momma K was tidying the house. I was talking with Bean, he was meant to be asleep, his Mommy and Daddy had tucked him in an hour ago, but I was showing him all my presents. “And this one I got from Uncle Adam,” I informed, rolling the yellow truck around the carpet. “And my friend Annie gave me this…” I held up the jewellery box, “But she’s not my bestest friend. You are. Did you get me anything?” I asked him. “I got you…” He looked around his room, turning on the lamp next to his bed and going to his small blue book shelf. “Iss okay if you didn’t, Mom says that sometimes people forget or can’t afford but they still love you.” I explained, but I was eager to see what he was looking for. “I can give you this.” He pulled out a thin book with bright colours on the front, “But can we share it, iss my favret and Dad reads it to me. It’s by a Doctor.” He explained, opening the book and pointing to the pictures inside, “That’s Foona Lagoona Baboona.” I climbed onto the couch and pulled a pillow into my lap, resting my head against the lounge’s arm. “Thass crazy.” Dean said when the lamp in his room began to flicker. He put down the book and went over to it, “Dad fixes the t.v like this.” Bean offered, raising a hand to smack the bedside table the lamp was on. It stopped flickering, the roll of thunder outside made us both start, Dean picked up the book and took it back to his bed, freezing when he heard the scream. He turned when he heard a man yell out his Mom’s name. “Whass happening, Bean?” I asked, slipping further down the couch, behind the pillow in my lap. His terror was mine, we were both confused and scared. “Don’ worry. It’s okay.” Bean whispered, taking a step backwards towards his bed. The sound of loud footsteps stopped, the yelling stopped, Dean sat down on his bed, pulling the book into his lap. “See? Iss okay.” The little boy looked down at his book, but then there it was again, a man yelling out Mary. Then there was a bang and a crackling noise. His baby brother started to scream, Dean dropped the book and went to his door, opening it. “Don’t, Bean.” I whispered into the pillow, I was so scared, so was Bean, I could feel it. There was a bright orange light coming from Sammy’s room as Bean’s Dad rushed out carrying the baby. “Daddy!” Bean exclaimed, he was wondering what was happening as his Dad crouched to his level, pushing Sam into his arms. “Take your brother outside as fast as you can, don’t look back.” Bean was frozen, looking at his Dad, wondering what was happening and where was Mom? “Now, Dean, go!” His Dad demanded, Dean ran down the hall and down the stairs, holding tight to his baby brother. “Bean? Whass wrong?” I asked, I had started to tear up, my bottom lip was quivering as I watched on, terrified. Bean got outside and stopped, looking up at the window that was bright yellow. “Iss okay, Sammy.” Bean reassured the baby in his arms. Then out of nowhere there were strong arms around us and Dad’s voice in our ear. “I’ve gotcha.” Good thing we had a tight hold on Sammy. The house exploded as Dad ran us across the yard and towards Mrs Thompson’s house. Then everything went silent. I couldn’t see what was happening to Bean, I couldn’t feel the heat or Dad’s arms or Sammy, it was just black on that side. I started to cry, my little frame shaking as I sobbed hard into the pillow. “Hey, baby, what happened? Is it Bean?” Momma K asked, pulling me into her lap and smoothing circles into my back. “Bean!” I squealed, over and over. Mom joined us on the couch, both sat rocking me, pressing their lips to my head until I fell asleep.
I hear the clock, I roll over and squint one eye open, it’s 6am. I turn it off and collapse onto my back, rubbing at my eyes till they open and adjust to the dim light of my room. I stare at the ceiling, another day without you. I don’t know if I can continue, I feel so far from where I’ve been. But I have to go on. I have to for you. I sit up and push myself out of bed.
“YN, he’s not imaginary, he’s real.” Momma K said, holding my hand. My breathing stuttered from the aftermath of sobbing, but I calmed enough to listen to them. “Do you know what your soul is?” Mom asked, I nodded my head and touched my chest. She smiled and nodded, then Momma K smiled. “Sometimes special people share a bond, and it’s there from birth. They’re linked to your soul and you to theirs.” Momma K tried to explain, I frowned and looked between my moms. “Like you and Mom.” I asked her, crawling into Momma K’s lap, placing my hand over their intertwined fingers. “Yeah, like us.” Mom answered, I looked at their hands then up into Mom’s eyes. “Bean is out there, sweetheart. I’m sure he is.” She reassured, both Mom and Momma K placed a kiss on my head and temple. I sniffed and wiped the back of my hand across my nose. “Bean will come back?” I asked, watching as Mom and Momma K shared a look, I knew they were talking with their minds. They’d been doing it since I was born. “Only you can answer that, honey.” Momma K muttered into my hair before placing another kiss there. “Do you think he will?” Mom asked, squeezing my little hand. I closed my eyes tight and concentrated real hard. “Yeah, I know he will.” I said, confidently.
I sit at the kitchen bench, staring at my breakfast, I got my eggs, I got my pancakes too, I got my maple syrup, everything but you. I sigh heavily and push at the white, breaking the yolk, watching it run over the side of the pancake and mix with the syrup. You taught me how to poach eggs, you were so excited the first time I succeeded. I drag my fork through the yellow liquid and make a smiley face, I kind like it in my brand new place. You’d like it here too, it’s a small town, away from all the evil you fought to protect me from. It’s surrounded by farms, which means fresh produce, I swear that’s the only reason Sam visited.
Mom had tucked me in and kissed me goodnight, closing the door and leaving me lying in bed, eyes closed, the room pitch black, except for headlights coming through the window. Which was weird, my room was on the second floor. I could see a small boy next to me in bed, I could feel him stealing my warmth as he pressed his freezing feet against my shins and his cold nose against my collarbone. I shivered against the cool breeze that blew in from under the door, tightening my hold on the little boy. The headlights turned off and a car door slammed just outside. Keys rattled on the other side of the door then it burst open. I ducked my head into the little boy's hair, trying to hide myself as I watched the tall man stumble in, pushing the door closed before he started to wrestle with his jacket. A passing car's headlights illuminated the side of his face, he had scratches and blood all over. His eye was half swollen shut. I gasped and he turned towards me. “You should be asleep.” He slurred, returning to his attempts to pull his arm out of his jacket. “Well, I'm not.” Even though I was terrified, I managed to sound confident. The man eyed me for a long minute and I sat still, frozen under his gaze. “Well, come help your old man, then.” He said, nodding his head for me to join him. I shuffled the boy out of my arms, pulling the blankets further around him and shushing him as he stirred. “S’alright, Sammy.” I cooed, wiping the hair from his forehead like mom did for me. I braced against the cold of the room and went to the bathroom, making sure to stand on the towel on the floor, protecting my feet from the freezing tiles. I ran the water till it was warm and wet one of the fresher towels, pulling the red bag from under the sink, I returned to the man. He was sat at a small table, staring at the sleeping boy. I glanced between them and then handed the man the wet towel. He pressed it to the larger scratch and hissed at the sting. “He’s six now, he shouldn't need to sleep next to you any more.” The man said, grabbing my hand as I emptied a small bottle over the cut. “It's freezing, Dad. How else do you expect him to stay warm?” I answered. But that didn't sound right, Dad? I didn't have a dad… where was I? I struggled against the confines of sleep, trying to bring myself out of this dream, wake myself up. “If we don't look after him, who will?” I muttered under my breath, but the man heard and grabbed my shoulders faster than my heart could beat. “We? You still seeing her? Dean!” The man roared, shaking me, his fingers dig into my shoulders and it hurt bad, like the time I'd sprained my ankle, but I didn't move. “We talked about this, it could be a witch, it could be a link to… god knows, Dean. With what I do, it could be anything. Don't let her in. Stop trying.” The man demanded, shoving me a little, snatching the bag from my feet. “Bean?” The little boy called, his voice wavering as he was close to tears. “It's ok, Sammy.” I said, going back to the bed and crawling in with him, pulling him back into my arms. “We’re here.”
I wipe the spots off of the mirror and stare at myself, expecting to see your face next to mine. But you’re not there. You wouldn’t be. I shake my head and throw the towel over the rack, straightening it before I walk to my bedroom, naked. I never leave wet towels on the floor anymore, you’d be proud. I put on my bra from yesterday and clean underwear, then pull the dress over my head. I don’t bother with makeup anymore, I know I should try, but without you there to make fun of all the different processes and procedures… I sling my bag over my shoulder and almost smile as the keys and coins jangle together in my bag, another thing you’d be proud of; don’t leave my keys in the door, any more.
I was in the back of my boyfriend’s truck, lying underneath him in the flatbed, we were puffing and panting, moaning and grunting. It was my first time, I was sixteen. I was completely unsatisfied as he began to shudder and shake over me, I looked up at him and saw someone completely different. There was a face I knew, but couldn’t place. He had a strong jaw, a smattering of freckles over his cheeks, a smile hinting at the corner of his mouth, I could only see a part of his face and neck, I assumed I was looking at a rear vision mirror. I closed my eyes and focused my mind, only just aware of Jake gasping that he was close. The boy moved and caught himself in the mirror. I’d know those green eyes anywhere. Then he was gone and I felt an intense pleasure, my back arched, my hands clung to Jake’s arms, fingers digging into his flesh. “Bean.” I whispered, as my muscles fluttered and a white heat spread over me. “Better get you home.” Jake panted, planting a half kiss to my forehead and slipping out of me, rolling to the side and pulling his boxers up.
I didn’t even kiss Jake goodbye, I hopped down from the cab of his truck and ran up the path, climbing the trellis and lifting myself through my bedroom window. I went to the mirror and stared at my reflection. The small fairy lights I’d left on made my face glow in the dark. “Are you there?” I whispered, tentatively. There was no answer, yet I could hear breathing that wasn’t my own. “Bean? Is it you?” I tried again, letting my eyes fall to the ground before closing them and running my hands down my face. “YNN?” The male voice answered. My heart beat faster and a flush rose in my cheeks, I looked back into the mirror. “I knew it was you. I knew you’d come back.” I hushed excitedly. There was a few noises as he moved around, then a pain shot up my leg, my toe throbbing. “Shit. Jeez-us. Farh!” Bean cursed, as I tried to keep my own expletives to a minimum. “What the hell did you just do?” I questioned. “Wait.” Bean said, I could feel his heart rate settle, the pain in my toe slowly ebbing to a dull throb, “You felt that?” He asked. “Hell yeah, I did! Don’t do it again.” I warned, a light came on and there he was, his face. “This is all too weird.” He muttered, his hands came up and covered his eyes, taking away the vision of his face. “What’s weird?” I asked, truly concerned, he stayed quiet with his eyes covered for a minute, “Bean, let me see you. What’s weird?” I demanded this time. His hands came away from his face and there he was, the hazel, almost green, eyes, the strong jaw, the scattered freckles, the plump lips. “This.” He gestured at the mirror, “I thought you were an imaginary friend, I’d forgotten about you till I saw-” His tone changed, cracking as realisation hit, “You didn’t see what I was doing, did you? You didn’t see her, me-- it?” He asked, but before I could open my mouth, “Oh my god, you didn’t feel it, did you?” His voice dropped an octave and I giggled at his terror.
The walk to work is full of street sounds, cars honking, trucks reversing, people calling out to each other, yet it’s eerily quiet for me. I pulled out my phone and know who I’ll call, if anyone, she’ll understand, so I call my Momma but she was out for a walk, sending a quick text instead of picking up. I suppose it had been quite a while and I couldn’t keep depending on my Moms and friends to come to my rescue all the time, I suppose that’s why I didn’t call Sam too much. I didn’t want to be a burden, they all had lives to lead.
“Tell me again, cause I’m sure we have a concussion.” I thought. Since discovering each other again, we discovered we didn’t have to talk out loud to hear one another, if one of us thought it, the other could hear it. Like it was their own thought. “Thanks Momma.” I said with a smile as Momma K pushed a bag of frozen peas to my temple. She smiled back, letting her hand fall to squeeze my shoulder as I took hold of the bag. “Tell him to take better care of you.” She warned, looking deep into my eyes as if she could see him there, hiding. “I swear she can actually see me.” Bean thought, though I heard the sigh that escaped him when the cold pressed against my skin. “Bean, again, hunter?” I questioned, trying to bring him back to answering me. “Why do you call me Bean?” He was so easily distracted. “Cause that’s your name, or at least that’s what I called you when I was four.” “Why Bean? My name’s Dean.” He informed, the car he was in stopped and he turned his head, looking at his Dad who was behind the wheel. “You okay? You’re mighty quiet.” John said, pinching Dean’s chin and turning his head to get a better look at, what I could only imagine was, the lump and swelling from the smack he’d copped to the head earlier. “Looks like that swelling’s gone down, some.” John muttered. “Yeah, Dad, I’m fine.” Dean said, annoyed as he swiped at his father’s grip on him. “Right. I’ll go get Sam, then we’ll hit the road.” John offered. “I wish you wouldn’t.” Was the thought that was screaming through Dean’s head, and now mine. “Dean!” I called, trying to break through to him, but he was fading, his thoughts clouded with anger and guilt.
I arrived at work, dumping my bag at my desk and grabbing my mug, going to the kitchen to fill it up. I went back to my desk and sat down, putting on my headset and opening my line, I didn’t seem to get too many calls nowadays. I sipped at the hot sludge, I guess you could say I consoled a cup of coffee, but it didn’t want to talk! So I picked up the paper it was more bad news, I’m sure it’s something you would be investigating, well now Sam and Bobby. I put it to the side and answered the call that would probably be my only one for the day.
“If you wanna go so bad, then go! But don’t you ever come back!” John yelled, Dean was on the other side of the door, listening to Sam tell their Dad he was leaving for college. Underneath all the confusion, anger and feelings of betrayal, Dean was truly happy for his little brother, surely this meant he got to escape the danger and live a normal life. Dean shut me out when he felt me pick at the positive thread. “Dean?” I asked tentatively, a whisper of a thought. I’d woken up at 6am, everything was fuzzy, the stench of whiskey the only clear thing. “Deany?” I whispered again, closing my eyes against the harsh morning rays. I could feel him there, the loathing, the anger, the questions spinning round his head. Most importantly, the feeling of emptiness, my chest ached as if I’d just lost a loved one. “Bean?” my thought was like the voice in the back of your mind, easy to ignore, but this seemed to get Dean’s attention. “I can’t, YN. Not now. Can we just…” He opened his eyes, he was in the corner of a shower cubicle, the ugly stained white tiles of a motel bathroom staring back at him. I started rubbing soothing circles around the surface of my stomach. We stayed like that for a good ten minutes, silent, listening and sharing in each-others thoughts. “YN!” Dean suddenly thought, making me jump, “Sorry. Aren’t you moving today?” He asked, I smiled, amazed that, even though college was a sore topic, he still remembered. “Yeah, should be leaving in a few hours.” I answered, opening my eyes and looking across at the packed boxes, “Dean, I don’t have to go just yet, you know… if you wanna talk?” I tried, touching the subject his mind had been dancing around the edges of. “I didn’t mean to… Drive safe.” Dean was suddenly gone, the last thought, the tiny voice that often goes unnoticed, You’ll be at the same college as Sam.
It was bucketing down when I stepped out of the office after being ‘let go’, I sighed and pulled on my coat in the pouring rain, it was too late though, there were small drops that had landed on the back of my neck and started trickling down my back. But I couldn’t be fussed with them, feeling anything was better than nothing, and discomfort was a start. I started towards home but I couldn’t bring myself to return to an empty apartment, the silence would kill me. I stopped outside the cinema and bought a ticket, settling myself into the new leather seats. The speakers hummed to life, vibrating the chair. So, I saw a movie, it just wasn’t the same, cause it was happy and I was sad and it made me miss you, so bad. Without you there, critiquing and commenting on every small bit of action that wasn’t like the real thing, it was lonelier than being at home by myself.
Dean had been really loud for the past few years, if he wasn’t on a hunt, he’d establish the connection and annoy the crap outta me. I’d been the one to ‘hang up’ when he was chatting up a lady in a bar. I knew he missed his brother and when John let him hunt solo he was craving a partner in crime, but for fear of being connected if he was beaten, he seemed to leave me out of it. So when I hadn’t heard a peep in two days, I hadn’t had that familiar throb in the back of my brain, I knew he was up to something stupid. I tried to connect. He wasn’t picking up. A whole four days went by, I’d called the number he’d memorised for his Dad, it went to voicemail. I called the number he gave me, it rang out. I sent a text, warning him I’d call the police and put out a search for him if he didn’t answer. “YNN! Cut it out.” Dean’s voice was loud and sudden, startling me in the middle of a lecture. “Dean! Where are you? Are you okay? What have you been doing? I’ve been so worried. I even tried calling John.” I thought, waving an apology at the boy next to me who had knocked his knee from my sudden reaction. Dean’s eyes were closed and he was blocking his ears. “Dean? What are you up to?” I asked. I felt someone knock him on the shoulder, making me fling forward in my seat. My friend gave me an odd look and I gave a sorry smile in reply. “Dude, what are you- you still got that connection?” The voice was muffled but enough for me to know exactly who it was. And if I hadn’t, Dean’s incessant Shutup, Sam! thoughts sure gave it away! “Sam? You didn’t.” I begged, knowing the only reason he would’ve been quiet so long was because he’d gone to get Sam. He knew I would’ve made him talk about it, make him really think it through. Dean let go of his ears and blinked his eyes open, glaring at his brother. Sam had really grown, he was tall and slightly muscular, his hair was longer than I remember ever seeing it. “Yeah, YN and I still have that connection.” Dean grunted at his brother before returning his attention to me. “Dad’s disappeared, what else was I supposed to do, huh?” Dean sniped, his thoughts were a blur as I struggled to make any sense of them. “Just… be careful.” I managed to get in before he cut me out again.
I reheat my leftovers, go about my business, it’s all the same, every night. Make dinner, eat, clean, answer the phone, it’s one of the people I love, I say I’m doing fine, but it’s you I really want to talk to, not that we can, besides what would I say if I had you on the line? It was Sam tonight, we talked about his life cause it’s the same old story here, there’s not much to say; hearts are broken, everyday. I look forward to him visiting on the weekend, but I don’t know why he still insists on coming. I can’t be much fun for him, I know he sees the heartbreak when he hops out of the car and engulfs me in a hug.
“YN?” I could hear my Mom, she was distant and garbled, I opened my eyes but it was blurry and I couldn't focus on anything, but the light was so bright. I shut my eyes against the offense of bright white to my corneas. “What's happened? What's he done?” Momma K cried nearby. I faded out then, drifting off into darkness. It was odd, I was sat at home with my Moms, telling them all about my final exams when suddenly Dean started sharing. He was in immense pain. I doubled over at the kitchen bench, my head was pounding, my body ached. “We’re near the hospital.” Sam said, glancing back at Dean in the rear vision mirror. For Sam to be driving and Dean to be in the backseat; this was bad. Dean blinked, the flash of lights in his peripheral caught my attention, but before I could even think a warning, I was flung from my seat at the kitchen counter. My head thudded against the hard wood floor as Dean’s smacked against the window, knocking both of us out.
Dean died and I felt every moment as if it were an hour. It felt like centuries without him, then he was back. And my heart began to beat, my mind began to whir, my limbs didn’t feel heavy and I could breathe. Dean had come back and I was once again complete. But he’d come back to hear that his Dad had given his own life to save Dean’s. Ultimately saving mine, not that anyone thought about that, Dean hadn’t said another word about me to John since he was ten.
There was an anger and guilt that reverberated through every nerve Dean had, it took a toll on me, exhausting me. And I didn’t help Dean’s anger by thanking John for making the deal. I understood that he’d lost his father, he wanted to hunt the demon that had taken his only living parent. And for every happy thought I had, I felt guilty, the only way I could amend that, was by sharing my energy and stamina with him, helping him find the demon faster, or so I hoped.
“Sweetie?” Mom whispered, shaking my shoulder to wake me. “What?” Dean snapped, he was woken from a drunk stupor and it took every fiber of my being not to let his demand stumble from my mouth as well, instead I hummed. “You can’t keep letting him do this to you.” She said, her tone was filled with concern and love as she looked into my eyes, past me and to Dean. He was quiet for the first time in a while. “Dean, I know you’re hurting, hon, but you gotta stop.” She was talking directly to Dean and I didn’t have the energy to stop her, to sever the connection, not that I would’ve chosen to anyway. “Stop what?” Dean asked, his strength surged through me, the words spilling from my lips. Mom raised an eyebrow, I’m sure she was trying to figure out if it was me asking, me asking for Dean or if it was in fact Dean. “YN will gladly keep giving you everything she has, but, sweetheart, she doesn’t have anything left. You got to take control here.” Mom smiled sadly and kissed my forehead, finally blinking her unfaltering gaze and stood. Dean’s thoughts were a blur till he finally settled on one. “When was the last time you got out of bed?” Dean asked, I could feel the guilt seeping into his mind. Mom watched me a moment more, aware that Dean and I were now talking, then left, closing my door. “It’s okay, Dean. You need this more than me. Find the demon, kill it, save Sammy.” I begged, the resounding need to continue to help Dean was something I knew he could feel, and I couldn’t hide it from him. “YN, look after yourself.” It all went black. Like it did when I was four. And just like when I was four, I cried myself to sleep. Who knows how long it would be till Dean was back.
I squeeze out the paste onto the old bristles, I know it needs changing, and I know you’d be disgusted. I brush my teeth and put the cap back on, gargling like you always do with the leftover bubbles. I spit and rinse and step out of the bathroom, stopping. I know you hate it when I leave the light on, I turn it off and smile at the memory of you chastising me for being so energy deficient. I go through the rest of the apartment, turning off the lights. I pick up a book from next to the couch, I really should read the novels Sam leaves for me I tuck it under my arm and shuffle to my room, setting the book on the nightstand and then I turn the sheets down.
It was weeks before I heard from him again. Dean had moved on as much as he could, facing the real possibility of losing Sam to the same demon, to a dark path already mapped out for him. He’d explained it all, let me troll through his memories, catch up on what I’d missed, all while I was in the bath. “So where are you now?” I thought, even though I could see he was in a shitty motel room. “With Sam, I wanna believe, real bad, that this whole Demon-blood-gives-you-powers business is just a crap, but you’ve seen my life-” “That YN?” I heard Sam ask in the background. “What? How-” Dean asked his brother, I smiled at the confusion that swirled through Dean’s mind. “Hi Sam!” I chimed in response, not that he could hear me. “She says hi-- how do you know I’m talking to her?” Dean finished his question with a tiny thought that scared both of us: telepathy. Sam tossed him a beer from the motel’s mini fridge, my hand flew out of the tub as it came close to Dean’s face before he caught it, chuckling at my reaction. I could hear him mocking me with his thoughts and pinched my inner thigh, making him jump. “You get this,” Sam waved at his own face, his fingers curling and straightening as he pulled his mouth into a pucker, furrowing his brow, “look on your face, you’ve been doing that since you were ten and she’s been around since you were ten so…” Sam shrugged, slamming the heel of his palm down on the top of the beer bottle, effectively taking off the top from where it was positioned on the corner of the bench top. “We should go meet her, right?” Dean said after a moment of contemplating what his little brother had said. “With all the spare time you have.” Dean didn’t need to be connected to be able to sense the sarcasm. “Yeah, once all this is done.” Sam said, ever the practical thinker. The picture in Dean’s mind made me laugh, a pencil hovering over a calendar, scribbling my name over a date at the end of the year. “It’d be able to put a face to your imaginary friend.” Sam muttered, both Dean and I wore the same bitch face, our thoughts deadpanning in Sam’s direction. “Rude.” We both said in unison. “You think this is weird, I think that’s weird.” Sam gestured at himself then at Dean’s head in defense of himself. I rolled my eyes, heaving a sigh. “Tell him I’m out for the night because of that comment.” I instructed, hearing Dean’s acknowledgement before mentally hanging up our link. I wasn’t sure how it worked, even now in my early twenties, I was still figuring things out. It had taken me a good five months to figure out if we ‘hung-up’ we weren’t about to interrupt each other while we were … in the middle of “me-time”. I took a deep breath and submerged my head, I could hear the water lapping against the tub, see it swirl above me, around me, but I could still feel Dean. He’d always be there, if not in my mind, then in the background, I’d always be able to feel him.
I fish around under my pillows, flinging the found items free from the headboard, I put on my pj’s and hop into bed. I pull the sheets up to my chest and shuffle down the bed, settling into the large pillows, pulling across the book I should’ve read months ago. I read the first sentence over and over, but the words are a blur, I can’t make sense of what’s in front of me. I rest it to the side and try and tell myself it’ll all be alright.
Losing Sam was heartbreaking, worse than when John had died. It tore at Dean to have lost his only remaining family member, to lose his brother, especially when he’d been so close. He was only a few feet away, watched his brother get stabbed in the back. I’d screamed Sam’s name from where I was standing in my kitchen, letting the wine glass smash to the floor as I sunk to my knees. Dean ran to Sam and caught him as he fell forward, holding him close as his little brother, our little brother, died in his arms. Dean had wanted John back but instead turned to revenge, with Sam by his side they both sought vengeance and stuck to the small plan that John had put in play. But this time, Dean wanted Sam back, he needed Sam back and there was nothing I could do to dissuade him. I was sure of only one thing when Dean shut me out at midnight, he’d do the same for me if I was dead. He’d summon a Cross roads demon and make a trade for my life as well. “I have a year.” Dean thought as soon as the deal was made. “You traded your soul?” I asked, thinking selfishly of how half of that was mine, he had no right, he’d be taking himself away from me, what life would I have, where would this end? “It’s the only way I co-” I cut him off, tuning him out for the rest of the night. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t need him to hear the thoughts that were building, I didn’t need him to see or feel me cry.
“Sam’s back!” Dean’s bright and cheery voice rang through me as I woke up. I shared in his excitement, just as happy to see Sam alive again, but I didn’t miss the sadness that knocked against the door of Dean’s mind, that ever-present reminder of just what he’d done, he was going to take himself away from Sam and Me. But he’d push that away and promise he’d make the most of it. Who was I to tell him that Sam would just do exactly the same? Dean could hear it in the back of my head, just that tiny adult voice begged to be heard; you have to tell Sam. Every time Dean would speak of Sam or get excited, I couldn’t subdue the feeling and I knew Dean could hear it.
“YNN?” He tried as I was waking up. I hummed in response, arching my back up into the air and stretching my limbs till they shook. “Can we not think about Sam, can we… have you…” Dean was clearly alone wherever he was as he was saying it all aloud. But his thoughts spelt out the rest, it was a stream of different pictures, but the most vivid was me naked on a bed. “You know I can see that, right?” I laughed, lord knows we’d both caught the other thinking inappropriate thoughts, but none as forward as that. The picture turned into a question. “Can we… I know we’ve both thought about it, but could…” For as cocky and confident Dean acted, he was really struggling. I blocked him out, only to truly think it over for myself. Dean was attractive, and when this was all over and Sam and Bobby had found a way to get Dean out of this deal, maybe there could be a future for us, why shouldn’t we… it seemed that everyone who was soul-bound ended up romantically involved. My Moms, my Grandpa and Nanna, why not Dean and I? I shed my pajama top and bottoms and lay still, feeling anxiety settle in my stomach and excitement flood my heart. “Dean? You still there?” I whispered, keeping my hands flat on my bed sheets. “Forget it, it was stupid of me to ask, I’m sorry if-” Dean began rattling off, he was sitting on the edge of his bed now, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. “Shutup a second.” I thought before continuing aloud, “I had to think about it without you… I want this, Dean. I think I’ve wanted it since we were sixteen.” Realisation sinking in. I lifted my right hand from the sheets and placed it over my jaw, my fingers tickling my hairline and ear as my thumb stroked my cheek bone. I imagined it was his hand, nuzzling my face further into my palm, smiling when I felt Dean understand. “Sweetheart, you have no idea.” Dean conjured a picture of me and him together in the same room, his hands ran down my naked body, his calloused fingers spreading wide over the expanse of skin beneath him. I cupped my breasts as his vision did, tweaking my nipple when he pictured it. I bit my lip, changing his image to me trailing my hands down his chest, over his stomach and through the short curly hairs, my fingers wrapping around his hard cock. I felt Dean match the image, pulling himself from his boxers and slowly pump himself once. “YNN,” He growled, the need coursing through both of us, begging the other to speed up the introductions of our bodies and get to the pleasure.
I push myself down the bed and lie still. I know sleep won’t come till I’m truly exhausted. I just shouldn’t think anymore tonight ‘cause it’s even more depressing, I know I’m not the only one out there. With more hearts being broken and people being used every day, I shouldn’t wallow. But without you I’m half alive but I feel mostly dead. People say it will get better, but I see how Mom and Momma K hold each other tighter when I’m around, how they cling to each other mentally, cause losing part of your soul is unimaginable. It’s worse than death, and with that realisation…
Dean was flickering in and out, he’d hunted down Lillith, was with Bobby and Sam, it was a trap, he felt it and I was thinking it. He said he’d keep me at a distance, as usual, but something felt off, I needed to know that he was alright, I needed reassurances every few minutes. So that’s what he was doing, keeping me sane by letting me know he was okay. Dean connected for the millionth time that night, but he was following Sam and Ruby, grabbing at Sam’s shoulder as Sam begged Ruby to tell him how to help. “No, Dean! No. I’m not gonna let you go to hell, Dean.” Sam snapped, shrugging his brother’s grip off. “Yes you are.” Dean barked, I gasped as I listened, I could hear Dean’s clear and concise thought process, he was going to hell to save his brother and that was that, it was right and there was no turning back. “Yes you are. I’m sorry, I mean this is all my fault, I know that.” Dean’s voice settled, he was sad but honest in his words. Sam stared back, hurt and confused, resilient. It’s like I could read his thoughts then, no matter what Dean said, Sam would never give up. “But what you’re doing, it’s not gonna save me. It’s only gonna kill you.” Tears flowed down my face as Dean began to welcome death in his mind. “No, Dean. Don’t. You don’t have to.” I begged, sobbing into my pillow. "And what am I supposed to do?” Sam asked, tears were brimming his eyes as well. Dean stared at his brother, the love and respect he held for his little brother evident in his thoughts. And the guilt over what he had to say… “Keep fightin’.” Dean said seriously, I choked on my next sob, unable to silence the never ending scream of refusal in my brain. If Dean could hear me, he didn’t show it, like he had me on mute, “Take care of my wheels, my girl.” Dean breathed, the tiniest quiver in his voice as he mentioned me and his Baby. “Sammy, remember what Dad told you, ‘kay? And remember what I taught you.” Dean attempted a smile at his brother. My lungs hurt, my chest hurt. I couldn’t breathe, not without Dean. Then midnight struck, the clock behind him chiming, I jumped, swallowing a breath between sobs that were now coming harder than ever before. Dean turned and looked at the clock. “It’s okay, YNN. You don’t need me. All along, you’ve never needed me, it’s always been the other way around. I needed you. Now I need you to be strong, okay?” He thought quietly. I shook my head, my thoughts were incoherent as the tears flowed freely into my already damp pillow. “Bean.” I cried as he faded away, ending our call for the very last time. I screamed over and over for him, pushed my mind with all my might, begging for him to answer. I could still feel him there, he was still alive. I wished and prayed to anyone listening, Dean needed me. I needed him. We were meant for each other, I had to be there, he couldn’t die alone.
I sit up, slide out of bed and then I take a deep breath and a good look around. I ghost down the short hall to my bathroom and open the cabinet where I’ve hidden all the medication that won’t ever help. I open the bottle of sleeping pills and empty out a handful into my palm, running the tap, I slam my hand against my open mouth, tossing my head back. I dry swallow what I can and then gulp down water from the tap. I shut off the faucet and stumble back to bed, climbing in next to the empty spot you left.
I wasn’t sure I was still breathing when my phone began to vibrate later that morning. I closed my eyes and opened them, there were no more tears to shed, I couldn’t even conjure a thought. My brain told my muscles to move, to answer the phone. I was silent. I couldn’t speak, there was nothing to say. “YN?” Sam sobbed into the other line. “Sam?” I rasped, my throat was dry and hoarse from all the screaming. “He’s gone.” Sam broke down on the other end of the phone. I blinked a few times and then pulled the phone from my ear, looking at it, then hanging it up.
Dreams last so long, even after you’re gone. But, I know that you love me, and soon you will see, you were meant for me, and I was meant for you.
I hope I didn’t break you. More honesty - I cried twice while writing this. And I’ve never done it, but I so enjoyed delving into the different ages of Dean. Here’s some tags:
@whispersandwhiskerburn
@redlipstickandplaid
@impala-dreamer
@jalove-wecallhimdean
@whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname
@melonberri
@percywinchester27
@avasmommy224
@wayward-mirage
@waywardjoy
@wi-deangirl77
@sdavid09
@bringmesomepie56
@babypieandwhiskey
@kristaparadowski
@gabby913
@charliebradbury1104
@blacktithe7
@thegreatficmaster
@impala-dreamer
@mrswhozeewhatsis
@i-like-your-assbutt
@yoursmilemakesmeloveyou
@chaos-and-the-calm67
@frenchybell
@chvalkenberg95
@ackleholic-hunter
@green-love-red-fantasyhearts
@impalaimagining
@leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid
@lucifer-in-leather
@manawhaat
@nichelle-my-belle
@lipstickandwhiskey
@grace-for-sale
@hasta-impalasta
@oriona75
@ilostmyshoe-79
@eyes-of-a-disney-princess
@kazchester-fanfiction
@ellen-reincarnated1967
@beckawinchester
@notnaturalanahi
@autopistaaningunaparte
@mogaruke @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @purgatoan @jensen-jarpad @munlis @fandom-queen-of-the-world @fandoms-are-the-best-escape @wheresthekillswitch @iwriteaboutdean @sherloki-moriartea @lucis-unicorn @dancingalone21 @ruprecht0420 @dreamilyjensen @anactorya
#Amanda’s 200 Follower 90’s Baby Challenge#spnfanficpond#Meant For You#soul bound#soulbond#dean winchester#challenge#angst#heartbreak#you'll need tissues
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As Long As You Love Me
This is my entry for Amanda’s @iwriteaboutdean 200 Follower 90′s baby Challenge. The song I chose was “As Long As You Love Me” by the Backstreet Boys. This is my very first story on Tumblr, and I hope you all enjoy it. Ugh. I’m so nervous I kinda don’t want to post this. Writing second-person present tense is hard as all get out. Characters: Sam x Unnamed Female Reader Word Count: 2793 Warnings: Angst
It is raining when he first sees you. Sam and Dean had finished their latest hunt, a salt and burn job that had left them exhausted. All Sam wanted to do was drive back to their motel and rest, but Dean wanted to celebrate. They drive to the nearest bar, and Sam soon finds himself sequestered at a small table and nursing a cold beer as he watches his older brother flirt with one of the waitresses. Judging from the giggles and the coquettish glances from beneath her lashes, Sam knows she’s enthralled. He lets out a sigh. I guess this means I’m catching a ride to the motel, he thinks.
After losing Jess, and Madison, and Amelia, after being betrayed by Ruby, Sam does not want to open his heart to anyone. Love, permanent romantic love is just not in the cards for the Winchesters. His family history can attest to that. They will have to make do with meaningless one night stands and casual ‘when I’m in the area’ hookups. At least, that’s what Sam believes. Loneliness, thy name is Sam Winchester.
Then he spots you. You’re standing by the lone pool table at the back of the room, leaning on your pool cue as your opponent takes their shot. He misses, and you laugh wholeheartedly, throwing your head back, shoulders quivering. Sam can hear it through the din of the bar, it’s loud and sweet and Sam is willing to do anything to hear it again.
He tries not to stare at you as you play. Once the last ball goes in, you raise your hands above your head in triumph and do a little dance. Sam snorts at your antics. When you turn, he jerks his head in the opposite direction and heads over to the bar for another beer. Sam doesn’t realize you’re standing behind him until you say, “Did you enjoy watching me win?”
He chokes on his drink, eyes wide. “I wasn’t staring!”
You smile gently. “I have eyes in the back of my head, and even if I didn’t, my friend told me. We look out for each other. But don’t worry. I didn’t mind it.”
Sam blinks. “You-you didn’t?”
“Nope. You’re a giant, but I can so take you if you try anything.”
Sam knows better than to belittle you, though he’s surprised when he means what he says next. “I don’t doubt it.”
“So, what brings you here? This place isn’t the greatest or most well-known bar, but the grub’s good,” you say.
“And the beer’s even better,” Sam adds. “My, uh, brother and I are just passing through. Headed home tomorrow.”
“And where is home?”
“Kansas.” Sam doesn’t say anything else. The less you know the better.
You nod, and flag down the bartender for a beer. As you lean forward, your loose shirt slips down, revealing an anti-possession tattoo on your right shoulder. Sam’s mind is torn. You could be a hunter. Or you could be a Supernatural fan.
“What’s your name?” you ask him.
Mind still reeling over the tattoo, he stammers, “S-Sam.”
You squint at him. “Not Sam Winchester, right?”
“That’s me,” he admits after a moment.
You give him a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Sam Winchester.” You give him your name, and add, “I’m a hunter, too. Not as good as you guys, but I can hold my own.”
He tells you about the ghost he and Dean ganked, and you tell him about the Djinn you took down a few states over. He finds that you have a lot in common. You both like books and are adept at spell work.
He’s so involved in his conversation with you that he doesn’t even notice Dean until he clears his throat. His hair is disheveled and his flannel unbuttoned, revealing the black T-shirt beneath. “Sorry to interrupt. You ‘bout ready to go, Sam?” Dean asks.
Sam looks at you, and you say, “I need to be heading home anyway. Maybe I’ll see you around some other time.”
You go your separate ways, but not before exchanging numbers. Dean’s wary of your budding relationship, and Sam understands. You barely know each other, and Dean knows him so well he can tell he’s already falling and it’s not fair that you’re both hunters because it’s rare that hunters get happy endings but with you he desperately wants to try.
“I don’t want you getting hurt, Sammy,” says Dean, weeks later after you and Sam have become an item.
“I know you don’t,” Sam responds. “Thanks for looking out for me.”
“You trust her?” his older brother asks.
Sam looks down at you, watches you sleeping peacefully on the couch in the bunker. You’re guarded and have secrets, sure, but in this life who doesn’t. He knows who you are, and he trusts you. The look on his face has Dean raising his hands in defeat and backing off.
“Well,” says Dean as you patch up Sam’s wounds. “I’m going to get us some grub. No canoodling while I’m gone.” The three of you had just come back from a grueling hunt involving werewolves. Find the werewolf. Kill the werewolf. It was supposed to be easy. None of you had known that the one werewolf was actually two. Dean’s mostly unscathed, with a few bruises and cuts here and there. You’ve sprained your ankle in addition to your scrapes. Sam’s wounds are the worst. He has a concussion, a sprained wrist, and bruised ribs from being tossed around like a chew toy.
“He’s injured, Dean!” you cry. “What kind of sex are you having? Never mind. I don’t want to know. Bring me back something big, greasy, and covered in cheese. Thanks!”
The door clicks shut. You look at Sam, who’s eyeing you with a quasi-predatory expression. “You heard Dean. No hanky-panky till you’re better. Besides, sex makes you tired, and you need to stay awake.”
You tape up his arm and hand him a granola bar. “Eat this before you take any pills. They’ll burn a hole in your stomach otherwise.” Sam does as he’s told, and you both sit down to watch TV.
“You know, I’m really, really glad you’re here. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Sam says.
You smile softly. “You’d survive. You’ve been surviving before you met me, and you’ll survive when I’m gone.”
He frowns. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
You shake your head. “I’m not going anywhere, Sam.” It’s the truth. You hadn’t expected to feel the way you do, and as flighty as you are, you’re sticking around for Sam.
“Good. I’d hate to see…”
There’s a heavy pressure on your side. Sam is leaning against you, eyes closed, breathing shallow. Fear washes over you.
“Sam? Sam, honey, c’mon! Wake up!” He doesn’t respond. You carefully place him on his back on the floor and look him over. Beneath his T-shirt is bruising that wasn’t there before, a deep purpling on his chest. A trickle of blood comes out of his mouth. And Dean’s gone off in the only vehicle.
You begin to panic. Sam’s going to die if you don’t do something. What do I do what do I do what do I do? Shitshitshitshitshit.
Then you feel it inside you then, the power that lay dormant within you. You don’t have time to wonder if it’s really going to work this time, you have no choice but to trust whatever it is. It’s either going to save Sam, or kill him.
You press your lips to his. It’s a gentle touch, almost feather-light, like Sam is a fragile doll that will break if you squeeze him too hard. You place your hands on his chest, and close your eyes.
Power explodes out of you in a bright flash of light. The windows shake, the lights blow out. Around the room objects are falling from their positions, and you can feel your brain begin to hurt, but you keep going even if it kills you this time because it’s Sam and he’s dying and you won’t let him die because you love him so Goddamn much it physically hurts you.
When the light fades away, Sam’s breathing is even and his coloring is good. His wounds have been healed, each and every one of them. The room is a mess. It’s as if a tornado attacked the room. You stumble to the bathroom mirror and look at your reflection. Your body feels tight, as if whatever is in you is trying to escape. Electricity crackles around you. It’s happening again. You have to get away before you hurt Sam or anyone else. You grab your bag and flee, leaving Sam alone in that darkened motel room.
The next time he sees you, it’s bright out, a perfect day. You’re shoving your car key into the door, trying and failing to get it in. Your hands are shaking. You’re a wreck. Sam knows enough about you to recognize it. He calls out your name.
You freeze and drop your car keys.
“You left,” he accuses. “That night after the werewolf hunt. You left me.”
“I did,” you respond. Your voice is sad but hollow.
“Why?”
“Because I had to.”
“Look at me,” says Sam. You refuse to turn around. He grips your shoulders with his large hands, his grip firm. Sam frowns. You’re a bit thinner now. He spins you around to face him, and his frown deepens. Your face is gaunt, your pallor sickly. There is a part of him that relishes in the thought that maybe, just maybe, you have been suffering as much as he has. There is another part of him that wants to get answers and leave because you don’t deserve him. After everything he’s been through he does not deserve to be tossed aside by you like garbage. But there is an even bigger part of him that wants to hold you tight and never let go. “Tell me why you left.”
You shake your head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Are you married? Engaged? Were you seeing someone while we were together?” he demands of you.
You gasp, appalled that he would ever think to ask such a thing. Then again, you know you deserve his ire. “No, Sam. I wasn’t cheating on you. It wasn’t anything like that.”
“Then why? I thought things were great between us. We were as normal as two hunters in the life were ever going to get.” He stares you down with an incredulous look on his face. “God - I was in love with you, did you know that?”
You keep shaking your head as you tremble in his iron grip. “I didn’t. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I’m so sorry.”
“Well, it did happen,” he says hotly. Then, in a softer voice, he adds, “I loved - love you. I love you, okay? I’m pretty sure I have since the day I met you. Do you love me, too?”
“I do. I do love you, Sam. You have no idea how much I love you, but I have to go.” You begin to struggle, and Sam worries that this will cause a scene. He snatches your keys off the ground and has you tucked into the front passenger’s seat before you can even blink.
You hear a click. He’s activated the child safety lock. You aren’t going anywhere.
You burst into tears. “You shouldn’t love me, Sam,” you sob.
His voice is almost as wrecked as yours when he responds. “Why not? What happened that night to make you leave? Did I do something, say something that caused this?”
“No!” you cry out in anguish. “You didn’t do a thing. You’re perfect, Sam.”
He looks at you in confusion. “I don’t understand. One minute we were watching TV, then there was this bright light and the next thing I know Dean’s hauling me off the floor. What happened that night?”
“You almost died that night, Sam, that’s what happened! One minute you were fine and the next you were on the floor choking on your own blood! Dean had the car and he wasn’t going to make it back in time. I intervened.” You rub at your eyes.
Sam’s jaw drops. He doesn’t remember this. Why doesn’t he remember this?
“How? What did you do?” Sam demands.
“I healed you. I’m only glad that I was able to. It doesn’t always work,” you tell him in a quiet voice.
He asks if you’re a witch. You shake your head. You don’t know what you are, and you tell him as much. One day you woke up with the ability to heal people, hear voices in your head and see things you shouldn’t, but your powers were sporadic at best and sometimes violent. The last time you tried to heal someone “I could have killed you trying to heal you, Sam. Dean would have returned to find me sobbing on the floor covered in your blood. He would have killed me, and I would have let him.”
Sam doesn’t understand, and you know you have to make him see that you aren’t good for him, that the feelings you had for each other had to end. “You think I’m some well-rounded, calm individual, Sam, but the truth is I’m a mess! I break everything I touch. Everything I’ve ever dreamed of, everyone I have ever cared about has suffered because of me. I can’t let that happen to you. I care about you too much.”
You both sit in silence then, you staring ahead and Sam staring at you. You want to badly for things to be different. You wish you could go back in time and save you both the heartbreak by never meeting each other in the first place.
Sam’s tight grip on the steering wheel lessens. He opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again.
“Look. I know things are hard, and I know you’re scared, but before that night, were you ever afraid while we were together?” he asks.
You weren’t, and tell him so. You had never felt as safe as you were with Sam when you were without him. Being around him made you feel safe and protected, that you were invincible so long as you had each other.
“Well then. That settles it. You’re coming back to the bunker with me,” Sam says.
“Sam.”
“Hear me out. You felt safe with me, you said you yourself. Whatever these powers of yours are, we can work on controlling them. Together. I need you in my life. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. I feel like we’re meant to be. I’m not ready to let you go.”
“I’m not ready to let you go, either,” you admit.
“I’m a simple man. I don’t care who you are, where your from, what you did or what you can do as long as you love me,” he says.
You look at each other. “Did you just-?”
“I did,” Sam says, straight-faced.
You snort. “You unbelievable dork.”
“Don’t blame me for knowing that song. Blame yourself for telling me all about your boyband phase, and then singing said tunes at the top of your lungs in the shower.”
You find yourself laughing then, and Sam joins you. “Yeah, but I never thought you’d use it against me.”
“Did it work, though?”
“It did.”
Sam nods resolutely, then puts the car into gear. “I’m taking you back to the motel Dean and I are at.”
“He’s not going to like this.”
“He’ll forgive you once everything is explained,” Sam assures you. You believe him. You believe in him. Everything’s going to be fine.
The drive to the motel is short. He parks the car, releases the child lock, and herds you towards his room. Dean isn’t facing the door when you enter. He’s talking on the phone with someone, leaving them directions.
“Sam,” Dean says without turning. “What took you so long? Did you get food? Cass will be here soon, by the way.”
“Uh, no, actually. I brought back something else.”
Dean turns, and his surprise gives way to anger. “You! What the hell are you doing here? Why the hell are you letting her back into your life? She broke you, man, like the death of Jess broke you. This should not be happening again.”
“I know, Dean, but let her explain,” Sam begs.
There’s a knock at the door. Dean yanks it open. Standing before you all is a man in a trench coat. You presume this man is Cass.
He stares at you.
You stare back.
Then you say, “Sam, what is up with his face?”
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Chains
Written for Amanda’s 200 Follower 90′s Baby Challenge! @iwriteaboutdean
My song: Hold On by Wilson Phillips
Pairing: Sam x Reader
Warnings: Mental and emotional abuse, angst
Sorry this one got away from me, it’s a little bit of my personal life written in this one.
“I know this pain Why do lock yourself up in these chains? No one can change your life except for you Don't ever let anyone step all over you Just open your heart and your mind Is it really fair to feel this way inside?”
XXX
“Look at you, it’s no wonder you haven’t got a boyfriend. Why can’t you be more like your sister, she’s so skinny, and pretty. She makes good grades, she’s so smart, you’re just so average, God you’re just so disappointing!”
(Y/N) sat up in her bed, trying to shake her mother’s words out of her head. Running her fingers through her hair, she repeated to herself. “I’m not a disappointment, I’m successful. I’m not average, I’m exceptional.”
She tried to believe her words, but it was hard, after a lifetime of being told other wise. Even at the age of twenty-five, sometimes her mother’s negative words often came back to haunt her.
Grabbing her phone, she saw she had a text from her mother. Letting out a groan, she opened it. Don’t forget cousin Misty’s wedding is this weekend. Are you coming alone, yet again?
I thought about sending her a reply telling her to F off that I wasn’t coming at all, but I knew that would only cause more problems. I remember mom, and I’m bringing a friend.
I counted to five before my phone chimed. A man friend? Do you FINALLY have a boyfriend? I knew if you took my advice and lost weight, you’d finally snag one! Now, if you’d just get a real job, and give up your silly dream of being a writer.
Rolling my eyes, I threw my phone on the bed, I wonder if I’d ever out grow being reduced to a emotional mess because of my mother’s words. I let out a sigh, and tried to push her insults out of my mind. I had to get moving this morning. I needed to get ready, I had a breakfast meeting with my editor.
XXX
I rushed into the cafe, seeing Sam already seated waiting for me. His hazel eyes lit up when he saw me. He stood up as I neared the table, he leaned down, kissing my cheek.
“Good morning (Y/N). You look beautiful as always.”
I felt myself blush. “Always the flirt and charmer, aren’t you Sam?”
He frowned at me. “Dean, is the flirt and charmer, that’s not my style. I really think you’re beautiful (Y/N).” I felt myself blush. We started at each other for a few minutes, before he pulled out my chair for me. His hands resting on my shoulders for a minute.
“Thank you Sam.” He sat down across from me, reaching over his hand covering mine.
“Are we still on for the weekend?” The waitress took our order, then left the table.
“If you still want to go, I mean it's a whole weekend with my crazy family.”
He grinned at me. “They can't be that bad.” If he only knew, he'd probably run in the other direction. He was going as my friend, and support system, and nothing more.
“I really appreciate this Sam. Thank you.”
“That’s what friends are for. Now, let's get down to business. How's the new book coming along?”
“Taskmaster!” I laughed. “I have twenty-five chapters written.” I pulled out a flash drive, tossing it to him.
“You’re such good little worker bee!” The waitress placed our orders in front of us. He looked at her plate frowning. “Is that all you eating?”
“Not very hungry.” I didn’t want to tell him the truth, that my mother's words were always in the back of my head. I wasn’t skinny and beautiful like my sister or cousins, I was voluptuous, and average looking. I had been all my life, something my mother couldn’t stand. She was forever putting me on diets, trying to make me “perfect”.
“Earth to (Y/N), are you with me?” Sam was smiling at me.
“I’m sorry what?” I focused on Sam, pushing the memories of my painful past out of my head.
He laughed, his hazel eyes lighting up. “I said, I’ll read over your chapters today, make my notes. Which I’m sure will be very few, and get them back to you. I can leave Thursday night, if you want.”
“Sounds great, and are you sure you want to spend that time with my family?”
He reached across the table, squeezing my hand. “It will be fine.”
XXX
Thursday evening we walked into my parents house, my stomach was a bundle of nerves. He squeezed my hand before we walked into the door. The house was full of activity, the whole family was over. I was hoping for a quiet night, ease Sam into thing,
The room went quiet when we entered. “Who do we have here!” My dad asked.
“This is my friend Sam Winchester, Sam this is my mom and dad; Robert and Faye (Y/L/N), my sister Jennifer, my cousin Misty, her fiancee Mike, my aunt Tammy and Uncle Mark.” I looked around the room, rolling my eyes.
“Don’t forget me pork chop!” I rolled my eyes at the horrid childhood nickname.
“This is my cousin Jax.” I felt Sam’s arm snake around my waist pulling me to him.
“What do you do Sam?” My mother asked.
“My brother and I own Winchester Publishing, I’m (Y/N)’s editor.” The whole room laughed. I hung my head, fighting back the tears, home not even ten minutes, and here I was reduced to a mess.
“Pork chop is a writer....” Jax laughed. “Still dreaming, you need to get a real job!” I felt Sam’s body tense.
“She’s a very successful writer, she has fifteen books published. All of them have been on the New York’s Times Best Selling list for weeks. She’s working on her sixteenth book.” He glared at Jax. “And I’d appreciate it, if you’d stop calling my girl friend pork chop!”
Jenny started to laugh. “You’re her boyfriend? How did she get someone like you? She’s just so....”
“Beautiful!” Sam finished. He pulled me from the room, stopping at the door. “We’re leaving, we may or may not stick around for the wedding!” Stopping on the porch he pulled me into his arms, his hands cupping my face. “Are you okay?”
I nodded my head, he lowered hos lips to mine, kissing me. I felt an electric shock shoot through my body. He pulled away, he smiled at me. “Let’s get out of here.”
XXX
“Lettin' your worries pass you by Don't you think it's worth your time To change your mind?”
Sitting in my hotel room, Sam and I were watching a movie together. Sitting side by side on the bed, our thighs touching, his hand slowly moving to cover mine. His hand gently squeezing mine. “Why did Jax call you pork chop?” His voice was a soft whisper.
I felt my face turn red, I turned to look at him. “Because I my family thought I was fat and ugly when I was growing up. They use to joke that they’d need to tie a pork chop around my neck to get the dogs to play with me.”
“That’s horrible....you’re so beautiful.” He pulled me onto his lap, kissing me. His hands entangling in my hair. “You can’t believe anything they say.”
“Sam, I....” I hung my head. His hands lifted chin, so I was looking into his hazel eyes.
“Tell me you believe me when I say you’re beautiful.” I closed my eyes, tears starting to fall. “(Y/N), you are the most beautiful, smart, funny, and wonderful woman, I’ve ever met.”
His thumbs wiped away my tears, I opened my eyes. “You’re sweet to say all those wonderful things about me...thank you for being my friend.”
“I want more then being your editor and friend....when I said I was your boy friend, I want it to be true.”
I smiled at him. “I’d like that.” We cuddled in bed, he held me in his arms. For the first time in my life, I felt beautiful.
XXX
.”....Break free the chains”
Standing in line to get dinner at the rehearsal dinner, Sam was behind me, his hand at the small of my back. We were laughing having a good time, not paying attention to my family.
My mother was standing in front of me, staring at my plate disapprovingly. “Really (Y/N), don’t you think you should go easy on the food?”
I heard Sam mumble something in the background, my body tensed. I took a deep breath, and exhaled. “You know what mom, I’m going to eat whatever I want and enjoy it! Because I’m beautiful, I always have been, you’ve just been to blind to see it. I’m a successful writer, it’s my job.”
I slammed my plate on the table, and stormed out if the hall. I heard Sam running after me. His arms snaked around me, pulling me to him.
“That was fabulous, way to break the chains of abuse. You just have to hold on for one more day baby. Things will be better, get through the wedding and we’re out if here.”
“I don’t think I could have done that without you Sam. You made me want to stand up for myself, I’m not going to let them make me cry anymore. I think thinks are going to change.”
He smiled, kissing me. “I’ll be right her by your side, stay strong for one more day. Just hold on baby, I’ve got you.”
THE END
@notyourtypicalpunkgirl @small-town-wayward-daughter @impalaimagining @clairese1980 @charliebradbury1104 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian
#Amanda’s 200 Follower 90′s Baby Challenge#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester imagine#spn imagine#supernatural imagine#supernatural#spnfanficpond#jellyfish writes#jellyfish fic
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Characters/Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader
Warnings: Smut, slight angst maybe, little bit of fluff
Word count: 906
A/N: This is my contribution for@megansescape ‘s 300 challenge and@iwriteaboutdean Amanda’s 200 Follower 90′s Baby Challenge I now realize I never asked you guys if it was okay to combine your challenges,I’m so sorry!!
Songs promps:
Runnin’ by Adam Lambert Sometimes by Britney Spears
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