Hi! Can you pretty please make a part two to the imagine where Sam hates you but you're in love with him?
Hi! I’ve never written a Part Two to an imagine before so I hope I did an okay job.
Link to Part One:
http://imagines-supernatural.tumblr.com/post/83163112089/i-really-loved-the-imagine-you-made-and-here-i-am
~~~~~
You and Cas had been sitting side by side on your bed in silence for about twenty minutes when you heard Sam and Dean’s voices coming from outside the motel room. Your fingers tightened around Castiel’s trenchcoat and you shrank further into him.
“Y/N, I think that perhaps you should just talk to Sam,” Cas murmured. “Perhaps there is an explanation for all this.” You sat bolt upright, staring at him in disbelief.
“An explanation? What is there to explain? I’ve never done anything to him!” you exclaimed.
“I know,” he agreed with you. “But I still feel that you and Sam should talk. You can’t keep putting yourself through this.” You bit your lip, frowning up at him.
“I don’t like this one bit,” you told him. “But…maybe you’re right. I feel bad that you and Dean always have to be around to fix me up.”
Cas was about to reply when Sam and Dean entered the room. Sam’s laughter cut off abruptly when he saw you sitting on the bed. You looked down at your hands, suddenly losing the confidence to speak with him. However, before you had a chance to inform Cas of your change of heart, he spoke up. “Dean, would you mind accompanying me for a moment?”
Dean frowned, glancing between you and Sam. “Cas, are you sure that’s the best idea?”
“Trust me,” Cas said, grabbing Dean by the arm. The sound of beating wings filled the room and they were gone, off to who knew where.
“Well this is just great,” Sam muttered under his breath, dumping the cartons of take out on the table. Every muscle in his body seemed to be stiff with tension, and you could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was seriously pissed off to be alone with you.
You glanced around at the peeling wallpaper of the motel room, hoping desperately for some kind of distraction to come along to prevent you from having this conversation with Sam. Unfortunately, none were forthcoming, so you took a deep breath and stood up. “Sam?” you asked timidly, moving towards where he had seated himself at the table.
“What do you want?” he answered harshly. It was obvious in his voice that talking to you was the last thing on his agenda.
Suddenly, you felt angry. And not the kind of angry that made teens lock themselves up in their bedrooms with rock music blasting, but the kind of angry that made you want to grab Sam by the shirt and pin him against the wall, demanding that he listen to you. “I want to talk to you,” you stated firmly, this anger of yours manifesting itself in confidence.
Slowly, Sam swivelled around to face you. “What about?” he questioned in an annoyed tone.
You swallowed, taking another step towards him. Folding your arms across your body, you began to rant. “Why do you hate me, Sam? I’ve only ever been kind to you. I’m a pretty damn good hunter, even if I say so myself, so you can’t say I hold you back. And Dean and Cas like and respect me, so why can’t you? I understand that a lot of hunters don’t like working with others, but you’ve done so in the past, so you can’t use that as an excuse.” You stopped, staring at him expectantly. “Well? What have you got to say for yourself?”
“I don’t hate you,” he responded simply. He didn’t address any of the other things you had said, which infuriated you.
You let out a humourless laugh. “Wow, Sam. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one. Maybe I should get you a dictionary for your next birthday. That way you can look up the definition of hate.” Sam stood up to face you.
“You don’t understand,” he said. “I honestly don’t hate you.”
“Then why are you always such a dick to me?” you whispered, on the brink of tears.
Sam blew out a long breath. “It’s just…we’ve had practically all of our friends die, Y/N. Simply because they were our friends. And I don’t want that to happen to anyone else. And if it doesn’t happen to you, then what does that mean about the others? Does it mean that they were somehow supposed to die?” he questioned rhetorically. “You hunting with us…I don’t know. It just somehow feels like a punch to the gut, reminding me of everyone else.”
You let your arms drop to your sides, unsure how to handle this revelation. “Sam,” you began slowly. “I’m not any of those people. I haven’t even really met any of them. And I know things have been really tough for you in the past, but you can’t hold that against me. I’m my own person and I have feelings. And quite frankly, I really don’t deserve to be treated like this.” You gazed up at him, waiting for a response. After a minute, it came. But not in the form of words - he instead offered his hand. “Sam?” you questioned.
“It’s a truce,” he explained. “A peace offering, whatever you want to call it. I’ve been a dick, and I’m sorry. So do you think we could start over? Try to be friends?”
You looked into his eyes, at the genuine regret and hopefulness you found there. Although being friends wasn’t exactly what you had in mind, you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity to be on good terms with Sam.
You reached out and shook his hand. “Friends,” you agreed.
~~~~~
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I have been feeling really sad lately because my mother is diagnosed with cancer and it's really hard so I was wondering if you can do an imagine for me when Sam is really mean to you because he thinks you like dean? Please I read your imagines in the hospital and I have to take counseling.
Anonymous
Hi. I’m so sorry to hear that. If you ever want to talk, my ask box is open. And I really hope this imagine helps, even if only a tiny bit.
~~~~~
You walked into the bunker, your arms loaded with shopping bags. “Hey, Sam?” you called out, peering over the top of the bags to where Sam was sitting on the couch. “Do you reckon you could help me carry some of these bags in?”
“Why don’t you just ask Dean?” he asked harshly, standing up and turning to head out of the room. His mouth was set in a hard line and his shoulders were stiff with tension.
“Why would I ask Dean?” you questioned, dropping the bags down on the kitchen counter. “He’s all the way on the other side of the bunker.” Sam whipped around, turning to face you with a furious expression.
“Oh, I don’t know. You just seem to be doing everything with him these days. Why not add packing away the groceries to the list?”
“What the hell, Sam?” You strode over to him, your hands planted on your hips. “Dean’s my friend. I hang out with him sometimes. I don’t see why it’s any of your business,” you added, jabbing your finger at him on the word ‘your’.
“I just think that if you want to get in his pants, you could be a little more subtle about it,” he spat. You staggered back, his words a slap in the face. You gaped at him. Where was the Sam you knew, the one who was always so sweet?
“Sam!” you exclaimed. “What the hell is wrong with you? How could you say something like that?” Your heart ached, and you knew that your face must’ve mapped out an expression of hurt. Sam noticed this and his own expression softened slightly, his hand reaching out to brush against your arm.
“Y/N -”
“No!” You slapped his arm away. “You can’t just be horrible to me and then expect to make it all go away by touching my arm as some kind of peace offering!”
“I know, Y/N. And I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’m sorry,” he apologised, his eyes gazing at you sorrowfully.
You folded your arms across your chest. “Then why did you?” He didn’t answer and you cocked an eyebrow at him, waiting impatiently for an explanation. “Any time now, Sam.”
Sam glanced away, biting his lip in frustration. He turned back to you, evidently uncomfortable at having to provide an explanation. “I was jealous,” he burst out. “Happy?”
You dropped your arms, staring at him in surprise. Of all the responses you had predicted would come from him, this was one that had never been on the list. “You were what?”
“I was jealous, alright?” Sam repeated, clearly wishing for a change in subject. You straightened up, a slight grin curling the edges of your mouth.
“And why would you be jealous?” you asked in mock innocence, secretly pleased at Sam’s discomfort.
“Because I like you!” he exclaimed. “There. I said it. Is that good enough for you? I thought that the reason you and Dean have been hanging out so much was because you liked him. And I got angry because I like you, and it would kill me to see you start dating my brother!” He stopped, his chest heaving from his outburst. You stepped up to him, a full-blown grin now spread across your face.
“Do you want to know the real reason I’ve been spending so much time with Dean lately?” Sam nodded almost imperceptibly, seeming to dread what was going to come next. You stood up on your tiptoes, stretching up so that your mouth was in line with his ear. “I was getting his advice on how to ask you out,” you whispered.
“You - what?” Sam asked, staring at you in disbelief. “So this whole time I’ve been jealous of the two of you, I should’ve just come straight out and told you how I feel?”
You paused for a moment with your finger against your lips, pretending to contemplate his words. “Pretty much, yeah,” you told him.
“God, I’m such an idiot,” he moaned, covering his face with his hands. You grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands away so that you could see him properly.
“I know,” you agreed, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “Now help me with the rest of the groceries.”
~~~~~
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Hey, how are you? Good. Can I please have an imagine where Sam finds the reader, his girlfriend, being insecure in the bathroom and tries to comfort her?
Hi. I’m good. How are you? I’m sorry for the wait, but it hope you like it.
Warnings; Reader is feeling very insecure.
~~~~~
You sat down on the lid of the toilet, your head cradled by the palms of your hands. Tears slipped down your cheeks and dripped onto your shoes, and your shoulders shook with suppressed sobs.
“Y/N?” Sam knocked on the door. “Are you alright? You’ve been in there a while.”
“N-no, I’m f-fine,” you answered weakly, running a shaky hand through your hair.
“You don’t sound fine,” Sam observed. “Can I come in?” You reached out, fingers fumbling against the lock. It clicked, and Sam swung the door open, stepping in and looking to where you sat.
“Hey, what’s wrong, beautiful?” he asked, crouching down on the ground in front of you. You shook your head at him, unable to respond. “Come on, you can tell me.” He brought his hands up to rest on either side of your face, wiping away the tears with the pad of his thumb.
“I suck,” you told him miserably, stray strands of hair hanging down around your face. He frowned at you in confusion, tucking the wisps of hair back behind your ears.
“What are you talking about?”
You took a deep breath, readying yourself to tell him everything. All the negative thoughts, all your fears, all your insecurities. They had been building up over the past few months and were finally boiling over. “I suck at hunting,” you explained. “I always stuff up and people get hurt. I’m never going to be like you and Dean. And then whenever we go out somewhere, there are all these pretty girls eyeing you off and I just know that I can’t compare to them. One day you’re going to look at me and think, ‘why is she even my girlfriend?’” You stopped abruptly, scared that you had overloaded Sam with information and scared him off.
“Y/N, I want you to listen to me,” he told you, gazing directly into your eyes. “You are one of the best hunters I’ve ever met. And I have come across a lot in my time. And for the record, you don’t want to be like Dean and I. Just remember that we’re the guys who opened the Gates of Hell and started the Apocalypse, just to name a couple of our greatest mistakes.”
“But you’re also the guys who fixed both those things,” you pointed out.
“True,” Sam agreed, smiling ruefully. “But we wouldn’t have had to if we didn’t stuff up in the first place. And about what you said after that? I look at you everyday and wonder why I love you.” You looked down, your vision blurring, the colours running together. Your worst fear had just come true. “Hey, look at me.” Sam titled your head back up to look at him. “Every time I ask myself that, I come up with a whole list of reasons why I love you. You’re smart, funny, sweet, badass, beautiful and about a million other things. And yes, you never could compare to those other girls. Because you’re a thousand times more perfect for me then any of them could ever be.”
Your eyes swam with tears again, but this time of the happy variety. “Really?” you asked softly.
Sam smiled. “Really.”
~~~~~
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Can you please do an imagine where the reader is currently in a relationship with Sam and she's alone in a motel doing research while the boys are out and she sees Jessica , Sam's ex girlfriend and tells her that she is watching out for Sam and her.x
Anonymous
Hi. Sorry for the wait! I hope this is what you were after.
~~~~~
“Y/N, we’re going out to pick up some dinner,” Sam told you. “Will you be alright?”
“Sam,” you answered, getting up off your bed, “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” You walked over to him, draping your arms around his neck. You pulled him towards you and planted your lips on his in a slow, passionate kiss.
“I should go. Dean’s waiting in the car,” Sam mumbled against your lips. As if having heard Sam, Dean blared the Impala’s horn from outside, causing you to giggle and pull away from Sam.
“Alright. Bye.” You watched him as he headed out the door, locking it behind him. When the sound of the Impala’s engine had finally faded, you turned towards the table where Sam’s laptop rested, ready for you to do some research.
You sat down in the chair, opening up the laptop and logging in. You read over pages of information, the text swimming together and blurring before your eyes. For twenty minutes you carried on like this, the sound of your fingers hitting the keys being the only noise in the room. It was then that you noticed the room had become cold, so much so that your breath came out in a white cloud. The lights in the room flickered and you whipped your head around, looking for anything out of place.
Across the room, a silhouette seemed to be emerging, the image gradually strengthening. Before you stood a beautiful girl in her early twenties, with long, wavy blonde hair and a white nightgown. She could’ve been some sort of model. If it wasn’t for the dark, red stain spreading across her midsection.
You jumped up, fumbling around for the gun you had loaded with rock salt earlier in the evening. “Wait,” she girl said in a soft voice. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to talk to you.”
You laughed harshly. “Right. Well, I can’t afford to take that chance.” You picked up the gun, holding it up at her.
“Please!” she cried. “I just wanted to tell you that I’ve been watching over you and Sam.” You lowered your gun slightly, staring at the ghost in confusion. She smiled gently before continuing on. “You make him very happy. Thank you for that. Please just take care of him for me.” Those were the last words she uttered before vanishing, leaving you to scan the room, searching for any signs that the ghost was still around.
Eventually, you put the gun back down, returning to your place in front of the laptop. “That was weird,” you muttered, the sound of the Impala’s engine filling the parking lot again.
“Hey, Y/N,” Dean called, stepping into the motel room.
“Hey, guys,” you replied, standing up as Sam came into the room and walked over to give you a kiss.
“Anything happen while we were gone?” he asked.
“Uh, no,” you told him, deciding not to reveal the strange encounter which had just taken place. As Sam went to go sit down on your bed, he dropped his wallet, causing it to open as it hit the ground. You reached down to pick it up and saw a picture of you stuck into one of the slots. But right behind it, the corner of another photo stuck out. You reached into the pouch, pulling the hidden photo free. When you could see it properly, your breath in your throat. The picture was of a blonde girl on a beach, the very same blonde girl you had seen just minutes before. “Who’s this?” you asked shakily, holding the picture up for Sam to see.
He glanced up from the TV, his eyes filling with sadness as they fell upon the picture. “That was my girlfriend from college,” he told you. “She was…she was killed by a demon. Her name was Jess.”
~~~~~
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Someone should do an imagine where dean and sam like the same girl :)
Anonymous
Hi. Your wish is my command! I hope the wait was worth it.
~~~~~
“Y/N? Come on, wake up.” Slowly, you began to regain consciousness, Dean’s voice reaching into the deep waters of sleep and pulling you out. You felt yourself being rocked and realised that Dean had his hand on your shoulder and was shaking you, trying to rouse you from your slumber.
You sat up slowly, running your fingers through your hair to pull it back from your face. Blinking sleepily, you glanced around the room, noticing the sunlight filtering in through the curtains, lighting up the dated motel furniture. “What time is in?” you muttered groggily, pushing back the covers.
“It’s about 9:30,” Dean answered, causing you to look up at him in surprise.
“9:30? Huh. You actually let me sleep in for a change. And you didn’t throw a pillow at me to wake me up,” you observed. “What’s the deal, Winchester?”
“Nothing,” Dean shrugged. “What, I can’t just be nice for a change without having having my motives questioned?” You eyed him warily, checking to see if this was some kind of trap or prank.
“I suppose you can,” you answered. “And thanks. The sleep in was nice,” you added, heading towards the motel’s kitchenette. “Woah! What’s going on this morning? First Dean letting me sleep in, and now you’re making pancakes?”
Sam stood before you, a bowl of batter on the counter beside him and the frying pan in front of him. He stood with a spatula in hand, flipping over a pancake before transferring it to a plate. “Yeah. Aren’t they your favourite?” he asked, sliding the plate across the counter towards you.
“Um, yeah. Yeah they are,” you answered, picking up the bottle of maple syrup and pouring some across your pancake. You began to tuck into it, but after a few bites, you lowered your cutlery.
“Is it not cooked through?” Sam asked in concern. You shook your head, swallowing the piece that was in your mouth.
“No, it’s fine. Great, actually. But it’s just…” You trailed off, not sure how to pose your question. By this point, Dean had come over as well, and he lowered himself into the chair beside you.
“What’s wrong?” he queried, giving you a once over to check for any signs of harm. Sam had lowered the spatula and he, too, was watching you.
“There’s nothing wrong! I just don’t understand why you’re both being so nice to me!” At their looks of confusion and hurt, you hurried on. “Not that I don’t think you’re mean to be or anything, but you’ve got to admit, you’re both being weird this morning. You’re acting completely different than usual. And whilst the sleep in and pancakes are great, I just want to know why.”
You gazed at the brothers expectantly, hoping for an answer. The two of them exchanged a glance, before directing their gaze elsewhere. Sam looked down at the pancakes, prodding at them to see if they were cooked. Dean stared into his coffee mug, swishing it around. After a couple of minutes, you finally decided to break the silence. “Is there something you guys aren’t telling me?”
Dean cleared his throat, before starting to speak. “Actually, Y/N, Sammy and I were talking last night and we found out that, um…” He glanced up at Sam for assistance.
“It turns out that we both have feelings for you,” Sam stated, picking up where Dean had left off. You sat in stunned silence, processing this revelation. You opened and closed your mouth several times, trying to work out how to respond.
“So you guys are treating me like this because you’re trying to impress me?” you finally asked. When they both nodded, you sucked in a sharp breath. “Wow, um, I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s alright,” Sam assured you. “There’s no pressure on you or anything.” Dean nodded in agreement. It was this action that drove you to your decision.
“Look, guys…you’re both great. And I love you both. Just not in that way. But even if I did, I don’t think I could go out with either of you. I just couldn’t pull you both apart like that,” you explained. Both boys looked down, attempting to hide their disappointment. “I’m really sorry. To both of you.”
“Don’t be,” Dean answered, looking up at you. “It’s not your fault. You can’t help the way you feel. And what you said…well, I think you make a very good point. I don’t think I could ever go out with you knowing Sam likes you, and I’m sure he feels the same way.”
“Exactly,” Sam agreed. “Did you want another pancake?”
“Am I still allowed to have one?” you joked.
“Of course,” Sam assured you. “You’re our friend, and friends make each other pancakes.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” You grinned, helping yourself to the fresh pancake Sam handed to you.
~~~~~
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Can you do an imagine where the Y/N isn't like the usual super pretty girls Sam usually likes. She's tall and curvy. But she thinks she's fat because society has made her believe that. She was a overweight kid and was bullied. But maybe Sam loves her anyways? I hope he would. Please?
Anonymous
Hi. I think Sam would love her anyway as well. And I’m so sorry for the wait. I hope it was worth it.
Warnings: Reader is self-conscious about her weight, there is a flashback to bullying about the reader’s weight.
~~~~~
You looked around the diner at all the young, pretty waitresses. Girls with gorgeous hair, the perfect figure and who could pull off just about any look. They were the kind of girls that Sam always seemed to go for. Girls completely unlike you, with your immense height that dwarfed half the guys you met, and your curves. Well, that was the polite way of putting it. Even as a kid, you’d been bullied for being overweight.
——
“Hey, Y/N!” a voice called out. You turned to find a group of popular kids a few tables away staring at you. They were the girls everyone wanted to be, and the guys everyone wanted to be with. Most of them had smirks on their faces, and a few were even whispering to each other, casting glances in your direction every few moments. You looked down at your plate, dreading how this exchange would go.
“What is it?” you called back.
Drew, the captain of the football team, stood up and began sauntering towards your table. As he passed his team mates, a few reached up to offer him high fives, whilst most of the girls giggled at him as he walked by. “My friends and I,” he began, glancing back at his table with a smirk, “were just talking to the lunch ladies, and much to our disappointment, we were told that all the doughnuts had gone.”
You crossed your arms across your body, looking down to avoid eye contact with him. “Why are you telling me this?” you asked quietly, knowing that some snide remark was sure to come.
“Well, we were told that if we wanted doughnuts, there were plenty over here at your table. Apparently you’re a regular with the lunch ladies. You’re even known to some as the ‘Doughnut Girl.’” His friends burst out laughing, cheering him on. Some even began to pound the table and chant ‘Doughnut Girl,’ causing several groups of students across the cafeteria to join in.
You bit your lip, pushing back from your table and fleeing from the cafeteria, leaving your uneaten lunch behind. “Why the rush?” Drew shouted out to you above the noise of the other students. “Was there a special at McDonald’s or something?” You picked up the pace at these words, wanting to escape the cafeteria before the tears started to stream down your face.
Finally, you locked yourself in one of the cubicles in the bathroom, the sound of ‘Doughnut Girl’ ringing in your ears.
——
“Y/N? Y/N!” you jumped in your seat, looking up to see Sam staring at you from across the table. You blinked a couple of times, trying to clear the memories from your mind.
“Um, sorry, I zoned out for a bit. What were you saying?”
“I was asking which size fries you wanted,” Sam said. You turned your gaze downward, suddenly ashamed to be ordering something so fatty. Sam was one of the sweetest guys you’d ever met and although he’d never say anything, you knew that he had to be thinking the same thing your classmates had all thought. You were fat.
“Actually, I don’t think I want the fries anymore,” you told him, avoiding eye contact. You glanced down at the menu, picking the first thing that caught your eye. “I think I’ll have a garden salad instead.”
Sam cocked an eyebrow, glancing at you questioningly. “Are you sure?” When you nodded in response, he called over a waitress and placed your order. When she went off to the kitchen, Sam turned his attention back to you. “What’s wrong?”
“Why would you think something was wrong?”
“For starters, when you zoned out before, you looked pretty upset,” he answered. “And then you decided not to order the fries, even though yesterday you claimed that they were the best fries you had ever had.” Sam was looking at you intently, studying your features. “You know you can tell me if something’s up.”
“Nothing’s up. I just thought that I should probably start watching my weight,” you told him, tugging at the hem of your sweatshirt.
“What?” Sam exclaimed, looking genuinely surprised. “Why would you need to watch your weight? You’re in great shape!”
You glared at him. “Maybe diner dinners and take outs every night work for you, but not everyone can be so lucky,” you said witheringly. Sam gazed back at you in confusion, understanding slowly creeping over his features.
“You think you’re fat,” he announced. You didn’t answer, which he took as confirmation. “Y/N, why would you think that? You’re beautiful. And you have a great body! I mean, you seriously rock those curves -”
You scoffed, cutting him off. “Curvy is pretty much a synonym for fat.” You looked up to find Sam shaking his head in disbelief. He reached across the table and clasped your hands between his own.
“Y/N, I want you to listen to me right now. You are not fat,” he stated firmly. “You know what you are? Tall, curvy and beautiful. How could you possibly think otherwise?”
“Everyone I went to school with used to tell me I was fat,” you murmured, swallowing the lump in your throat. Sam looked outraged, and you continued on before he could make a comment. “They called me ‘Doughnut Girl.’ And then you always seem to go after all the skinny, model-type girls.”
Sam frowned at you, trying to read the meaning of your words. “What have I got to do with any of this?”
You smiled weakly. “I thought you were smart, Sammy.”
Realisation dawned upon him, and his fingers tightened their grip on your hands. “Y/N, do you like me?” You nodded slowly, afraid of his reaction. Your worst fears were confirmed when he started laughing. You were about to snap at him, but he started speaking again. “God, I thought my feelings were only one way!”
“Wh-what?” you asked shakily, stunned by his response.
“I’ve liked you for ages,” he explained. “You’re so smart, and funny, and kind and sexy. I never thought you could ever be interested in me.” A grin broke out across your face, and your heart picked up its pace. A waitress walked by, and you signalled to her to get her attention.
“Can I help you with anything?” she asked.
“Um, yeah,” you answered, sending a quick glance in Sam’s direction. “Do you think we could have a side of fries?”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! And you guys are all beautiful, so don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Also, I’m sorry if anyone called Drew is reading this. I’m sure you’re a lovely person.
Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Can you do one where the reader and Sam are dating but Gabriel gets jealous and tries to kiss you then you and Sam have a huge fight then some fluff at the end, sorry if it sucks :(. Love your writing over read all of you stories gosh they're amazing <3
Anonymous
Hi! Thank you so much! That really means a lot to me. I’m sorry this imagine took a while to write. I hope you like it!
~~~~~
You turned around at the sound of fluttering wings. “Gabriel?” you gasped, your eyes widening in shock. “What the hell? I thought you were dead!”
“Death is so…boring. Doesn’t suit me at all.”
“But how…?”
He brushed your question aside. “So many questions. Just go with it.”
You straightened up again. “Sam and Dean will probably be back soon. I suppose you could wait for them, but I don’t know how they’d react…”
“Actually,” Gabriel cut in, “it was you I was hoping to see.”
“Me? Why would you come to see me?”
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re pretty hot. I thought we could get to know one another.” Gabriel sauntered towards you, a cocky grin plastered on his face.
“Actually, I don’t know about that. I’m with Sam. I love him,” you explained, backing up until your back met the wall.
“What a shame. We could always just not tell him.” Gabriel leaned towards you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you close.
“Gabriel -”
“What the hell is this?” Sam demanded. You looked around Gabriel to find Sam striding into the motel room, a furious expression on his face.
“I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” Gabriel announced, vanishing into thin air.
“What are you doing here, Sam?” you asked shakily. “I thought you and Dean weren’t going to be back for another half hour.”
“Oh, so that makes it okay for you to go around kissing other guys, huh?”
“No, Sam. You don’t understand -”
“You’re right,” Sam interrupted. “I don’t understand. How could you do that to me? I thought you loved me! But now you’re going around cheating on me? How long has this been going on, huh? Did you know Gabriel was still alive this whole time?”
“Sam!” you yelled. “I literally found out that he was still alive five minutes ago. And I wasn’t cheating on you! I’d never do that!”
“It didn’t look that way to me.”
“That’s because you came in at the wrong time!” you exclaimed. “Sam, he just appeared in the room and tried to kiss me. But I said no! I told him that I love you!”
“So…you aren’t cheating on me?” Sam confirmed.
You sighed in exasperation. “No, Sam, I wasn’t. Although I’ve gotta say, it kind of hurts that you don’t seem to trust me.”
“Oh, no. Of course I trust you,” Sam assured you. “It’s just…relationships don’t really work out for me. I got jealous and I assumed the worst. I’m sorry.”
Your expression softened. “Hey, it’s okay,” you told him, drawing him into your arms. “Just promise me that if anything like that happens again, you’ll hear me out first.”
“I promise. As long as you let me kill Gabriel next time I see him.”
You burst out laughing. “Good luck with that.”
~~~~~
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can I get "first kiss with Stanford!Sam", please? Girl, you are awesome!
Anonymous
Haha. Thanks! You’re not so bad yourself! Anyway, I’m sorry this took so long. I hope it’s what you were after.
~~~~~
You ran your fingers over the spines of the books, looking for the one you needed for your paper.
“Ah, crap,” you murmured, glancing up to find that it was above your head. Standing up on tiptoes, you grabbed at it, but you lost your balance and tipped to the side. At least you started too, anyway, before strong arms reached out to steady you.
“Hey, you alright?” a voice asked.
You looked up to find a gorgeous man with hazel eyes staring down at you. “Um, yeah, I’m fine,” you breathed.
“Did you want a hand getting something down?” he asked.
You blushed. “If you could, that’d be great. I just can’t reach that book there,” you told him, pointing at the book you wanted.
“Here,” he said, handing it to you with a smile.
“Thanks…”
“Sam,” he supplied.
“Thanks, Sam. I’m Y/N, by the way.”
“Y/N. That’s a really nice name. It suits you,” Sam said.
Your blush deepened and you ducked your head so that he wouldn’t see. “Thank you. Well, I should probably be going. But thanks again for helping me out,” you said, turning away.
“Wait.” Sam’s arm reached out to touch the crook of your elbow. You turned back and looked at him expectantly. “Uh, do you think…do you think we could maybe go get some coffee or something?” he asked nervously.
A soft smile spread across your face. “I’d like that.”
Sam grinned back at you. “Let’s go then.”
—-
“Alright,” you began, “I’ve told you all about me. Now it’s your turn.” The two of you were seated opposite each other in a booth of a coffee shop on campus.
“Well, what do you want to know.”
“Dreams, hopes, aspirations, childhood memories. You know, the little stuff,” you joked.
Sam smiled. “Well, I’m studying law.”
“That’s a start. And I must say, I’m impressed. Fancy me meeting a law student in the library and ending up with him at a coffee shop,” you said. “So what else is there? What about your family?”
“Uh, well, it’s just my dad, my brother and I. But I haven’t seen them in a couple of years. My dad wanted me to stay and be part of the family business and I wanted to go to college. And we had a huge fight and he basically kicked me out,” he explained.
“Oh. What about your mum?”
“She died when I was 6 months old.”
“I’m so sorry, Sam. I shouldn’t have asked about all this. I mean, we just met. It really isn’t my place to be asking you all these personal questions,” you rambled. “I just wanted to get to know you and -”
You were cut off as Sam’s lips pressed against your own. For a moment, you were stunned but once your brain registered what was going on, you began to move your lips slowly against his.
After a minute, Sam pulled back, resting his forehead on yours.
“What was that?” you murmured.
“I just wanted you to know that it was alright. You didn’t do anything wrong,” he answered.
“I think you should tell me I didn’t do anything wrong more often,” you whispered. “You’re a good kisser,” you added, bringing his lips to yours once more.
~~~~~
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