alluvision

[alluvision]

to love

Pairing → Sam Winchester x GN!Reader (no pronouns mentioned)

Summary → Sam and Reader had a fight about how you guys should take hunting down a notch, even though both of you feel at fault, a compromise isn’t actually hard to come by this time.

Warnings → Fluff? Angst again maybe? Idk and there are like four cuss words, calm down-

A/N → Hope you enjoy lmao, I now introduce to you my bad writing for Sam. He needs some love.  Hope I can provide :,))) 

Notes → Nothing. But I guess it’s mentioned reader is shorter than Sam, but there was no specific height difference spoken.

Word Count  →  1216

Requested  → No

To say the least, you and Sam had gotten into a fight.

It hadn’t been pretty. You yelled a few too many times for your liking but all Sam had done was look at anything but you and keep his mouth shut. 

The topic; hunting. 

Hunting had always been a topic hanging around your heads. An unavoidable nuisance that never really brought a good conversation to the table. 

You knew what you were getting into when deciding to get into a relationship with Sam. 

You had also grown up hunting, the only difference being you lived a half normal life. Moving around wasn’t always an occurrence because you had been raised by only doing hunts which were fewer than a ten hour drive from your house. 

The rest were to be taken care of by other hunters, or it would ultimately be decided that you would be left at home, continuing school, and being a normal person. 

Normal as the world knew you to be. 

And now, hours after that argument, more one-sided than most would be, you were getting ready for bed. 

You were an adult now, over the span of decades the job of hunting did what it does best, and took away most of your friends and family. 

Your mother was the only blood relative left alive, having been retired from hunting for longer than you had been fully sucked into it.

Getting ready for bed wasn’t the same without Sam’s presence. 

You missed the remarks he made as you brushed your teeth. The way he decided to look into your eyes through the mirror or plant a kiss along the side of your neck, or a peck on your shoulder. 

You missed how he not so subtly rested his head on your shoulder, closed his eyes and planted his hands on your hips, holding you with the idea stuck in his head that he could never let go of you.

He had once said it was physically impossible to let you out of his arms, a cheesy line he’d made early in bed one morning. 

But as the routine pushed forward, none of those touches, none of the interaction you had ingrained in your daily schedule, ever came.

You brushed your teeth alone, and finished your nightly routine alone. 

The bed felt empty, it felt like a part of you was missing and you hated yourself for not trying to apologize when you could’ve still found him in the bunker.

He’d left before you even had the chance to catch him, and you hadn’t seen him return. 

You snuggled as best you could into your sheets, instinctively stealing one of Sam’s pillows to hug because there was no Sam to hug. 

You fell asleep, unease bubbling up in you, and hoping you could talk with him the morning after. 

He was safe.

You knew he was safe. 

And by the next morning, though you hadn’t felt it climb into bed, you woke up to warmth. 

Warmth which your gut told you was normal.

It was a feeling that always managed to comfort you, but as you slowly woke up, you remembered how that warmth hadn’t been there last night.

You opened your eyes, Sam’s face being the first thing you see. 

You were entangled. The bedsheets were a complete mess from how you had ended up practically being smothered by your resident moose. 

As the feeling of simply waking up next to Sam settled in, you wrapped your own arms around him. Somehow managing to wrap yourself around him more than he around you.

It was tender. Every breath swallowed up by the morning that hadn’t yet woken up Sam.

Minutes passed, or maybe it was seconds, but to you it felt like an eternity of calm. 

Sam woke up, slowly adjusting to his compromised position of being trapped in your arms. 

“Hi,” he mumbled, most likely still half asleep. 

He continued cuddling you, choosing to bury himself into the crook of where your collarbone and shoulder met.

“Hi,” you said back quietly, smiling softly as you allowed yourself a moment of happiness. Your fingers lazily stroked his hair, your mouth pressing kisses to it of its own accord. 

Another few minutes passed before Sam removed himself from you, claiming, “I’m up.”

Though it didn’t really sound like it, you allowed him his freedom and let him go about his way. 

While he got ready you waited for your turn. The situation was still blurry for you, you understood it as much as you would a language you’d never heard of. 

Which was about zero percent. Maybe zero-point-one if you were lucky. 

Sam shortly came back from the bathroom, looking at you square in the face, “We need to talk.”

You had barely even opened your mouth when he had begun talking again, “And we will do that after breakfast. So come with me, please.”

Puppy dog eyes had never failed Sam, and they had yet to fail him. 

You complied, finding yourself walking alongside him. 

Routine seemed to be routine. It was something you never wanted to break.

Breakfast was filled with unadulterated affection. 

You were happy to have it, but couldn’t help but let your mind wander into the conversation which still needed to be had.

Ah, breakfast. As enjoyable as it was it inevitably had to end. 

“So..,” you broke the silence, elongating the ‘o’. 

He chuckled, “Yeah, so. I spent a lot of time thinking.”

You smiled slightly, remembering about the many jokes made in the past which usually went along the lines of, “Wow, you thinking? Dangerous right?”

“I- I want to be here more. With you and- and somewhere down the line, maybe we can get some of that apple-pie life?” It was a question, it was him exploring his options, to see if he’d messed up by just leaving the night before.

You felt as if you were the one that messed up much more. You had yelled. 

Biting your lip and feeling extremely exposed you nodded your head, “I want that. God you have to know how I feel when we go on separate hunts, it terrifies me not knowing what could happen. I-” You took a deep breath, wanting to not mess up this time around.

“I don’t want you to quit hunting, hell, I don’t want to quit it! But I- okay… I want to focus on us too. You know? What I meant, through all the shitty yelling I did last night, was that I love you. I love you so much and I never want to lose you, but I know you also have this weird ass complex of wanting to save people, which frankly I do too-”

Sam shut you up with a kiss, maybe this time he didn’t want to listen to your rambling, though he would never deny that he loved it.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” he said lips still against yours, cheesy as the situation was. “How’s that apple-pie life idea sound to you?” He continued, your foreheads connected as if you were one. 

As if the world would end if he wasn’t staring into your eyes, and you weren’t staring into his.

Thinking about it, that apple-pie life sounded like an amazing idea.

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x gn!reader #sam winchester x male!reader #sam winchester x female!reader #sam winchester x gn reader #sam winchester x male reader #sam winchester x female reader #spn x reader

[alluvision]

intertwined

Pairing → Dean Winchester x GN!Reader (no pronouns mentioned)

Summary → You got hurt on a hunt and Dean is angry at himself. You just want him to get some sleep, so you drag him back to bed after some gentle convincing.

Warnings → Fluff? Teeny weeny bit of angst if you squint enough-

A/N → I literally have just been waiting to watch the full episode of spn but I freaking saw a gif of Sam and his old man wig and was like NOPE-

I can’t do it! I literally cannot bring myself to watch the last few episodes, I have basically learned how this ends through tumblr and I’m scared :,))

Notes → Nothing lol

Word Count  → 867

Requested  → No

This was the millionth time you’d turned over in bed. Yet again, finding the opposite side of it, empty. You knew he’d be beating himself up somewhere else in the bunker. 

No matter what you tried he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself, at least not anytime soon. 

Yet, deciding you didn’t want to try and fall asleep again without Dean by your side, and deciding that he also needed sleep (though he’d deny it). You rose from the bed and stood, carefully placing most of your weight on your right leg. 

You limped your way outside of Dean’s room, hand along the walls for a bit of extra support. 

As you approached the center of the bunker, the library, you saw him sitting, a beer bottle at the table. 

He knew you hated it when he drank too much. At least there was only one. 

You sighed before moving further through the room, crossing your arms across your chest before saying, “Dean. Come to bed, please?”

You spoke softly, trying to comfort him, but letting out a small side of you that wanted to plead with him to just lie down with you.

His head turned to look at you before he slightly shook it and his eyes moved to refocus on the bottle in front of him.

“Baby, please. If this really is about what I think it is, what happened wasn’t your fault,” you tried, moving towards him and pulling out the chair next to his. “Just look at me, will you?”

He obeyed, Dean knew he could never say no to you, but he also couldn’t stand knowing he wasn’t quick enough to save you from getting hurt.

“Come on,” you stuck your hand out, waiting for him to respond. He slowly grabbed it, finally turning his whole body to face you, eventually sticking out his other hand. You answered by grabbing his other hand. 

You then brought each one up separately, kissing the inside of his wrists.

It was a ritual.

Something so natural, neither of you had to even think to complete it.

You both knew it happened each time either of you got so much as a scrape, leaving the other feeling guilty. 

“It wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t have done anything. You were busy getting them safe,” them being the most recent people you’d saved on a hunt, a group of people who stupidly sold their souls for riches. 

That seemed to happen too often.

Hellhounds seem to happen too often.

“I should’ve been paying attention,” he replied grumpily. 

You were only happy he was finally speaking. 

“But you can’t pay attention all the time, there are other people who need saving, Dean,” you replied while tugging on his wrists, pulling them into your lap.

“Yeah,” he said stiffly. “But you’re the most important one,” his gaze dropped to your interlaced hands. 

His thumb had been rubbing against your hand rhythmically. 

That line made you chuckle, Dean had never been extremely affectionate. You loved when he got all sappy with you. 

“If I say I forgive you, even though you’ve done nothing wrong,” you had quickly added. “Will you come to bed?” 

“I’m making it up to you in the morning,” he said after a few seconds of contemplation. 

You smiled and shook your head, “Okay, yeah. That works for me.”

Even though he wouldn’t fully forgive himself for a while, you always managed to put him on the right track.

He stood first, pushing in his chair. 

He knew how snappy you’d get if he didn’t. You had actually grown up with manners, ‘a chair has to be pushed when you get up’ you had told him (and Sam) once you’d moved into the bunker with them.

He had only looked at you incredulously at first.

Until one day you tackled him onto the floor, put him in a headlock and told him that if he didn’t push his chair in, there would be consequences. 

That may as well have been the day he fell in love with your personality. It certainly was enough for him to start keeping an eye on you.

You stood with his help, a nasty gash from the hellhound healing on your leg. Walking to the center of the bunker was about all you could handle without an extreme amount of pain.

“I love you, you know,” you said quietly as you walked back to your shared bedroom. 

You would never let Dean carry you, he knew you’d turn down the offer no matter how many times he tried. 

The both of you were a pair of stubborn, in love idiots.

“I love you so goddamn much, it’s unbelievable.”

You laughed as you finally settled on the bed. That once cold spot, being filled with Dean’s warmth after he’d changed into suitable sleeping attire.

The beer bottle sat at the table, abandoned. 

You and Dean lay on his bed, your bed, together and comfortably intertwined. Your injured leg, laying on top of his. 

Both of your lives weren’t perfect, but it was moments like these that made you appreciate the opportunity you had to live at all.

And god were they great moments.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x gn!reader #dean winchester x male!reader #dean winchester x gn reader #dean winchester x male reader #spn x reader