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justsomerandomfanfic · 6 months

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An Angel's Dilemma - Sam Winchester X Female (Angel) Reader

Title: An Angel's Dilemma

Sam Winchester X Female (Angel) Reader

Additional Characters: Dean, Castiel, God (Mentioned), and Anndro the Vampire (OC) (Mentioned)

Five Times Sam Winchester Tries To Confess His Feelings to Angel Reader And The One Time That He Does

WC: 7,350

Warnings: Angel Reader, oblivious Reader, alcohol, teasing, banter, Supernatural canon violence, vampires, hinting towards Destiel, cursing, death mentioned, killing mentioned, nicknames, Dean being Dean, blood mentioned, protective Sam, jealous Sam, slightly suggestive, Reader wears a dress, angst, pining, crying, confessions, and fluff

- 1 -

"You gotta tell her," Dean said simply the moment Sam walked into the main room of the bunker. The younger brother let out a sigh, looking over at Dean who sat on the couch with a beer in hand, staring at whatever was playing on the TV. Sam just wanted to grab a snack, not a lecture.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Sam then spoke, grabbing a half-eaten bag of Dorito chips from the counter, ready to head back to his own room again.

Dean snorted, taking a sip of his beer, "Sam, don't give me that crap. It's obvious as Hell how you feel about her."

Sam felt his grip tighten around the chip bag, making it crinkle obnoxiously, but Sam didn't care, "Well, how am I supposed to tell her?"

Dean shrugged, "Just tell her how you're madly in love with her. Simple."

"It's not simple, Dean." Sam said, eyes narrowed towards his brother, "She'll think I'm weird or something."

"I mean, yeah, you might sound like an awkward nerd," Dean replied, grinning slightly before getting up off the couch and heading toward the fridge. "Which you are," Sam glared as Dean shut the fridge door, holding a plate with leftover apple pie. Dean gave Sam a look before patting his shoulder, "You'll be fine. If it makes you feel better, she likes you too."

"Yeah? How do you know?"

Dean popped a few bites of pie into his mouth as he made himself comfortable on the couch once again, "It’s obvious. You'll have the perfect opportunity to tell her durin' this week’s hunt."

Sam felt his throat close up, his eyes widening slightly, "She's - She's coming with us?"

Dean paused chewing, staring at Sam intently before swallowing, "Yeah, Cas is busy." Before resuming, “I thought I told you last night.” He said with a mouth-full of pie; it made Sam cringe a bit.

“I was half asleep, Dean,” Sam then swallowed thickly before speaking up again, "Your angel's too busy to help you?"

Dean shrugged, "Yeah, but he said he'd come back later. Must be somethin' up in Heaven."

Sam pursed his lips as he nodded, bringing his fist to his mouth and clearing his throat, "When will she be here?" Sam asked as Dean shrugged.

"Ya'know Angels, Sammy. Always poppin' up unexpectedly."

Sam just let out a small sigh in response before quickly making his way back to his room.

~~~

Sam sat at a table, looking through book after book about mythical and mystical creatures. He didn't really need to, both he and Dean knew what they were going to be killing in this case, but Sam needed to get his mind off of you - which proved to be a very difficult task. Sam had been lost in thought, trying to keep reading, keep his eyes on the words on the page, but his mind quickly wandered to you.

You were an Angel, like Castiel, but you had only recently joined Cas whenever he came to the bunker for hunts. It had been a couple of months since you joined, and Sam was quick to notice that you acted a lot like Cas had when he first came down to Earth.

You were very kind to start off with, but you were always confused about something. Asking about practically anything under the sun, Sam was more than happy to help you answer your many, many questions. He had noticed after a couple of weeks, that you would always come to him for help on anything. He understood, when Cas wasn’t available, and Dean was too… Intimidating, Sam was an excellent person to go to when with questions. He had spent a good amount of time with you, and that was when Sam felt him falling for you.

When you had first joined over a year ago, Sam had found out that you were the Angel, with a different name, but you went by Y/N. Why? Sam never asked; he didn’t want to upset you or anything. Either way, he liked your name. It suited you.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Sam froze before he heard a voice, "What are you reading?" You asked, peering over his shoulder at the current books he had open on the table.

Sam cleared his throat, heart racing from the slight jumpscare, "Vampires... We're going after one tomorrow night.” He answered, his body growing warm beneath your touch, "Three women have gone missing in Louisiana in the past month." He continued, feeling your hand slip away as you took a seat beside him.

You gave his side profile a sweet smile, your hands clasped together in your lap, "Well, that seems easy enough. Castiel had spoken that you and Dean have encountered those before." You remarked, leaning forward in your chair.

Sam looked up, meeting your gaze, "Yeah, we have." His chest felt a bit warm as you looked right back at him with a small, that perfect smile on your face. "How have you been, Y/N? It's been a while since I've seen you." Sam then asked, and you just gave him a shrug, fidgeting in your seat; it was hard for you to keep still.

"I think I am feeling fine." You let out a small laugh, Sam found it hard not to match your smile.

Sam shuffled his booted feet on the floor, his smile falling slightly into a nervous frown. He felt his palms begin to sweat as he glanced away from you to the books on the table, "So, uh, Y/N, I've been meaning to ask you something for a while now… But, I never had the time to before you’d leave with Cas, but…" Sam began, his throat becoming dry as he spoke, but once he met your gaze again, he was at a loss for words. He tried his best to ignore the heat that was rising up into his cheeks as your eyes locked onto his. He didn't even realize you had moved closer until your fingers brushed against his. Sam blinked rapidly before looking down at your skin which was smooth and silky, almost like marble; your fingers slowly intertwining with his. He knew you had taken his hand to help him with his obvious nerves, but he couldn't help but get more tongue-tied.

Unable to confess his feelings for you, Sam sputtered out the next best thing he could think of, "Not that I don't want you here, I love having you here, but why didn't Cas come?" Sam asked, completely ignoring what he was trying to say in the first place, making you tilt your head to the side; your eyebrows furrowing slightly. Sam felt his heart plummet as you slid your hand out of his, leaving Sam without your warmth.

"Castiel had said that he had some unfinished business to attend to, but he did not tell me what that was. He had just said to find you and Dean; that you both needed help." You answered, voice soft.

Sam nodded, turning his eyes back on the books in front of him; unable to keep looking at you in fear that he might explode. "I wonder what he had to do that was so important..."

"That's what I've asked myself too, Sammy," Dean entered the library, a small grin on his lips as he saw the two of you sitting pretty close to one another, "Hey there, sweetheart. Fun flight here?" He asked you, making you smile towards the brother, a little bit confused. Dean only waved a hand before pressing both hands onto the table, "Nevermind, so, let's get ready, hmm?"

- 2 -

"So, you're tellin’ me that there is only one Vampire, and he's throwin’ a party at his house, and that's where he finds his victims?" Dean asked Sam, crossing his arms as he leaned against the table in the library, and Sam nodded in return.

"Yeah, that's why all the victims were wearing fancy clothes, found in swamps, with all their blood drained," Sam explained, Dean nodding his head as he listened, a frown on his face.

Dean scratched at the back of his head, "How are we going to get into there, it's all invites only, right?" He asked his younger brother, who nodded, turning to the table where his computer sat.

"Yeah, all invites. It turns out this Vampire is very picky. I was able to find out who he had invited and all these people have been registered blood donors since the 90s," Sam continued as Dean's eyebrows furrowed, looking between Sam and the computer screen.

"What's that got to do with anythin’?" Dean asked, gesturing towards the computer, Sam shook his head before pointing to the screen, about to answer when you slipped in.

"They all have AB Negative blood." You interrupted, perched up on the table, your ankles crossed, legs gently swinging, "It's a very rare blood type."

Dean seemed impressed as he glanced around the library, thinking before he paused, looking down at Sam, "Haven't all the victims been women?"

Dean questioned, and Sam nodded, "Yeah, so far, yeah."

You watched the two men talk to each other, continuing to swing your legs back and forth. As they talked, quietly arguing about how to get into the party to kill the Vampire in the first place, your gaze slowly moved down to Sam. You hadn't meant to stare at the handsome hunter, but you just couldn't help yourself. When you first came down to Earth with Castiel, you would've said, 'All of Father's creations are beautiful,' but, after being on Earth for so long, learning things, and meeting Sam... Sam was so attractive, and it was kind of overwhelming. You never had these feelings before, and you didn't even know that you were capable of these types of feelings before.

You had gone to Castiel with your questions since you knew that he had spent a longer time on Earth than you, and you were more or less convinced that there was some sort of bond between him and Dean. Angel Bonds were special, and you knew Castiel had given him one when he saved him from Hell. You had also had an inkling that something else was going on between them, but you didn't want to assume; even though they'd share longing glances and Castiel would stay in Dean's room when he'd visit. You didn't know why. Angel's do not need to sleep, but you know that Dean had a better TV connection than Sam or the main room in the bunker.

When you had gone to Castel with your questions, he was more than willing to help you. Angel to Angel. You had told him that whenever you were near Sam, you would feel a strange sensation; a pull towards him. You had never experienced anything like that before. You also told him that you would feel your heart race, your breath catch in your throat, and your stomach would flutter every time he smiled at you or even talked to you. Castiel said that what you felt was normal, that you were experiencing the attraction towards Sam. Still a bit confused, so you read books... A lot of books. After every book you read, the more you learned about love, attraction, and relationships. It made sense now why you felt this way towards Sam. Your attraction to him was completely natural.

You always got so excited to see Sam when you could, so much so that you felt like you were going to burst with joy any moment. Every day that you spent with him, and every minute that you were with him, you noticed so many cute, small things about him. You noticed how compassionate and forgiving Sam was, how he really liked Celine Dion, which you had still yet to listen to, and you noticed that Sam really liked eating salad. You loved it when he read, his eyebrows would furrow when he concentrated, and sometimes his nose would scrunch up as he took in a deep breath and released it with a big exhale, causing his eyelids to droop. Sometimes, your gaze would raise to his hair, your mind wondering what it would feel like to run your hands through it; your fingers would twitch at the slight thought. You really, really liked Sam, but you didn't know if you had the courage to say anything to him.

"What do you mean Y/N would have to do it?" Sam's voice grew a bit hostile as he stared up at his brother, and your attention immediately went back toward the conversation that you were missing.

You watched, tilting your head slightly as Dean tried to reason with Sam, "Sammy, she'll be fine, she's an Angel. She can protect herself if something were to happen."

Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean, "I don't like it," He spat out, turning to look at the computer as his right leg bounced up and down anxiously, "She could still get hurt. You and I can do this ourselves."

You sighed as the two continued to argue; a small frown appearing on your lips. Reaching down, you grabbed Sam's hand, which helped slow his bouncing knee to a stop. You then noticed that Sam took a deep breath in before letting it out, and you didn't miss the look Dean gave the two of you.

"Sam," You began, gaining his attention, his hazel eyes looking up at you. You gave him a small smile, hoping that would calm him further before speaking, "I know you may be worried... But, Dean is right. I can take care of myself. And I can easily eliminate the Vampire. And you have seen from our research that he only goes after women, I doubt anything distressing will happen."

Sam didn't seem convinced by your words, but he nodded anyway. "Okay," Sam mumbled, looking at his hand in both of yours, resting on your lap, "But if anything happens-" He looked back up at you, only for you to shake your head, interrupting him.

"Nothing will happen," You gently squeezed his hand, almost not noticing Dean leave the room, "I will be alright,"

Sam let out a big sigh, closing his eyes and dipping his head, his hand tightened around your hands, his thumb brushing against one of your wrists, "I know that you can defend yourself, I just get worried." Sam spoke, and you nodded, giving him a smile as he looked back up at you.

"That is alright, Sam. Being worried is a normal human emotion to have. It's understandable."

Sam opened his mouth before closing it, nodding, "Y/N, I'm just worried 'cause I-"

"Alrigh', we should probably head out. We should be able to get to Louisiana by tomorrow night." Dean spoke up as he re-entered the library, unknowingly interrupting Sam and extinguishing his courage.

- 3 -

The drive to Louisiana was a long one, around fourteen or fifteen hours. You sat in the back, staring out the window as buildings, trees, and cars passed. The three of you stopped at a few places to eat, a couple of diners, and whatnot. Dean got his pie while Sam got a salad. Getting back into the Impala, you felt a bit restless, propping your feet up on the back seats as you just zoned out. By the time night came around, the three of you found a motel that was pretty cheap but was decent enough. Sam had tried to let you take the second bed, but you opted for the couch, to read until it was time to continue the drive. Sam needed to sleep more than you did. For obvious reasons. Soon you were all back in the Impala the next morning, finding a place for breakfast, and time just flew by after that.

You leaned your arm against the door, your face pressed against the cool glass as you just watched everything speed by. You were all listening to something on the radio, some song that Dean apparently liked since he was bobbing his head along and tapping the steering wheel with a couple of fingers to the beat. You heard Sam let out a big yawn, your eyes landing on him as he moved around in his seat.

"Hey, Y/N, you alright with me lowering my seat?" Sam asked as you shifted to the middle of the backseat bench.

"Yes, of course, Sam." You spoke as Dean glanced at his brother as he lowered his seat back.

Dean turned back to the road, a small grin on his face, "Feelin' a bit sleepy there, Sammy?" Dean lightly teased him, making Sam huff as he crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah," Sam muttered, "Didn't sleep well last night,"

"Really?" Dean asked, his tone becoming mischievous as his grin turned into a smirk, "From what it sounded like, it would've seemed you slept pretty good; mumbling a certain person’s name…"

"Shut up, Dean," Sam grumbled, his cheeks starting to turn pink as he turned away from his brother, facing the window and shutting his eyes. "Don't start that crap."

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. You couldn't really tell what was happening, you were just mostly confused by their whole conversation. So you shook it off. Looking over at Sam from the middle seat, you tilted your head to the side, seeing that his body was slowly becoming less and less tense. After what felt like maybe an hour, you brought your gaze back to Sam, his eyebrows furrowing, and a deep frown settling on his features. Your attention switched between Sam and Dean, and back.

Dean seemed to notice your worried look, glancing over at you, "Are you alright, kid?" He asked you, his voice softening.

"Sam's upset," You murmured, not wanting to wake him as you stared down at the younger brother, "He isn't hurt, is he?" You asked, making a smile slowly appear on Dean's face at your words; you reminded him so much of Cas when he first came to Earth. Even though you had been on Earth with Castiel for little over two years; going up to Heaven most of the time. There was still so much for you to learn.

"No, he's not hurt, kid," Dean spoke, glancing from the road to you, and back, "Probably just a restless dream or somethin'." Dean answered with a shrug, making you hum and turn back to Sam.

"That's what I had thought." You said softly, resting your arm against the shoulder of Sam's chair, your cheek resting on your open palm. You raised your other hand, hesitantly reaching out to place your hand on Sam's head. Dean gave you a glance and a small grin reappeared on his face as you began to brush your fingers through Sam's hair.

Slowly, you noticed Sam's face soften, and you smiled as you continued to gently scratch your nails against his scalp. As you continued, you realized that you had never touched Sam's hair before, and it made your heart flutter, butterflies erupting inside your stomach as you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his thick strands beneath your fingertips. They were so soft.

It was late at night when Dean pulled over at the motel. Sam had woken up a couple of hours prior, only minutes after you had pulled your hand away and decided to zone out for the rest of the trip to Louisiana. Time quickly went by as the brothers went to bed, and you sat on the couch, quickly watching the TV, occasionally switching the channels.

~~~

That night, you were getting ready in the motel bathroom, and you looked in the mirror, smiling to yourself. You thought you looked beautiful. The dress fit you perfectly. Dean had helped you pick it out that morning for the party. You never really thought about having a favorite color, but this color made you smile. Your hair was also done up nicely, as best as you could do it. You were ready.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you brushed down the skirt of the dress, hearing a quiet, 'Oh, damn' from Dean. Looking up, Dean stood beside Sam, who was also nicely dressed in an ebony, black tux. Dean was seemingly pretty impressed, his arms crossed with a smile on his face. Looking over at Sam, you were a bit surprised to see his eyes wide in awe. His lips slightly parted, his eyes wandering over every detail of you as if he were trying to process all of the information in front of him. It was a sight that made you chuckle under your breath - your cheeks feeling warm - causing Sam to snap out of his trance.

"I- uh, wow," Sam muttered, his hand coming up to rub his neck, his eyes still glued to your figure, "You look like an angel..." Immediately when Sam said that out loud, he wanted to slap himself, he cringed mentally.

You let out a small laugh, looking up at him through your lashes. "I am an Angel, Sam."

Dean gestured behind him, taking a few steps back with a grin on his face, "I'm gonna get Baby all warmed up, it's chilly out."

Sam cleared his throat once Dean left, his eyes shifting from the floor up at you. Your smile faded a little, and you took a step closer to Sam, moving your hands up to readjust his tie that was slightly crooked, "Are you alright? You seem... I don't know... Distracted..?" You questioned, tilting your head to the side, and giving Sam a slight smile.

"What? Oh yeah, no, I'm fine. I just think you... You look really beautiful tonight, Y/N." Sam spoke, a nervousness in his voice. He knew he had already ruined any chance at being smooth, but he just couldn't seem to help himself; you looked stunning.

"Thank you, Sam. You look rather handsome as well." You replied with a nod, your smile returning as you took Sam's hand into yours, squeezing it before letting go.

"You think so?" Sam's small smile turned into a frown, his eyes falling to his shoes momentarily. He then sighed, shaking his head as he looked back up at you, his brows drawn together, "Y/N, I need to tell you something-"

"Alrigh', come on, love birds," Dean interrupted, clapping his hands together once to gain both of your attention, "Let's head out," Driving to the mansion where the party was going to be held, Dean spoke up once stopped at a red light. "So, there was some couple that were unable to go to this party, so you two will pose as them," Dean spoke, beginning to drive again when the light turned green. "Their names are Marie Frank and Christian Frank."

"I'm Christian?" Sam asked from the passenger seat, and Dean let out a small snort.

"Yeah, unless you want to be Marie?" Dean said, turning his gaze towards him from behind the wheel, "Cause that'll definitely make things easier for everyone involved."

Sam rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance. You laughed quietly in the back seat.

- 4 -

Walking inside the mansion where the party was being held was easier than Sam had thought, but he kept his guard up. Turning to look down upon you, he took in an almost shaky breath before offering his arm out to you. Smiling sweetly up at him, you took his arm and allowed him to lead you inside. Walking in, you saw many people dancing, drinking, laughing, eating, talking, etcetera. All of these people were unknowingly standing within a monster's lair, and you were confident that you, Sam, and Dean would vanquish the Vampire before he could take any more victims.

Leaning against the large bar, you looked over as Sam leaned down to speak to you in a hushed voice, "So, how are we going to find out which one is the Vampire?" He asked you, his warm breath wafting over your face, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin.

You glanced around the room, trying to spot anyone who could in fact be a Vampire. Soon, your gaze then landed on one man, his boisterous laughter echoing throughout the large ballroom as he spoke to a couple. His long, dark hair cascaded down his shoulders, and his brown eyes shined with humor as he told a story. As the man chuckled, you noticed him wearing burnt red-orange attire; he stood out like a sore thumb.

You leaned to the side, your eyes not leaving the man you were sure was the Vampire in question. "That one," You whispered to Sam, who leaned towards you to hear, "He's the Vampire."

Sam hummed, nodding his head slowly. "How do you know?"

"I- I don't know... I just do." You answered, pushing off of the bar counter, "Meet me at the back entrance, I can take care of this." You spoke, giving Sam a smile before going to walk off, but Sam stopped you, taking your hand.

"Wait, Y/N..." Sam trailed off, his hazel eyes boring into yours. He wanted to say it, he wanted to say that he was in love with you, but he couldn't bring himself to say those words, not yet anyway. Not even close. He let go of your hand, "Be careful, okay? We don't know what he might do."

Smiling lightly as a flush rose onto your cheeks, you nodded. "You know I will be."

Sam watched as you walked over to the supposed Vampire seeing that he was all by himself now, a drink in his hand. Sam felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach as he watched you talking to the Vampire. A smile on your face as you batted your eyes; it surprised Sam, seeing you so easily flirt with someone; much less a Vampire. Sam hated the way the Vampire was looking at you, the way he licked his lips every few moments or stared at you hungrily. Sam finally snapped out of it when he watched you lead the Vampire to the back of the ballroom towards a door. That was Sam's cue.

- 5 -

It was over, the hunt, that is. Sam sat in the front seat, hands curled into fists. He didn't say anything after Dean picked both you and him up after Sam killed the Vampire. You sat in the back, fiddling with your fingers as you glanced at the back of the passenger seat periodically. You could practically feel the rage pooling off of him in waves. Dean could sense it too, glancing at him but saying nothing. You didn't know what to say, or if you should say anything. You didn't know if Sam was upset at the Vampire, at you, or the situation.

When you brought the Vampire out, which you had learned was named Anndro, he immediately pinned you to the side of the building. You listened to him talk before he told you that he was going to kill you, drink your blood, savor it before throwing you in a swamp for dead. You pretended to be frightened, and you let the tears fall down your cheeks, but in reality, you were ready to end him.

Sam had popped around the corner, and once he grabbed the Vampire's attention, you grabbed the back of his head. And... Then he was gone. The walk to the car was awkward, Sam's back was hunched slightly, shoulders stiff as he opened his passenger side door and got inside.

Dean looked up at the rear-view mirror at you, seeing how upset you looked. A deep frown on your face, your arms crossed over the other, holding yourself as you glanced out the window.

It was very awkward and nerve-racking for the rest of the trip. Sam hardly spoke, and when he did, it was only a sentence or two. Dean tried to liven up the atmosphere but it was all for not. You didn't want to try for fear that you would make it worse. Once you got back to the bunker, Sam went straight to his room and slammed his door. Your shoulders deflated, drooping, but you were thankful to be in your regular clothes, not wanting to ruin or wrinkle your dress when you flopped down on the couch; burying your face into the cushions.

Dean let out a sigh, shoving off his shoes and walking over. Dean sat beside you, tapping the back of your calf with a hand. "Just give Sammy some time," Dean offered, his voice low, "He just needs space." He added, knowing full well that Sam would eventually come around.

You gave a slight nod, turning around to sit up. Tucking your legs into your chest, you wrapped your arms around them, looking up at the older brother, "Why is he acting so cold?" You asked softly, "Was it something I might've done?" You asked, a frown on your face. It was something you did, wasn't it?

Dean hesitated for a moment, "No, sweetheart, Sam's upset with himself is more likely."

"What?" You questioned, sitting upright in your seat, "But why?" Looking away from him, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Sam's not the best with emotions, ya'know?" Dean began with a small shrug, "Hell, I'm not either," He let out a small laugh, making you feel slightly better, "It takes him a bit to actually say anything, and if he doesn't... He bottles it up until he explodes. He’s currently exploding." Leaning forward, Dean lowered his voice a bit. "Sam's never been good at showin' his feelings, especially in situations where his heart's on the line." He added, making your eyebrows furrow.

"What do you mean?" You questioned, leaning closer to him as your curiosity peaked.

Dean smirked, "I think I'll let him tell you that when he's ready."

~~~

Sam finally left his room to grab some food, pausing when he noticed you on the kitchen island, reading a book. At his entrance, you looked up, setting down your Agatha Christie book beside you. You clasped your hands together in your lap, staring right back at Sam. He was the first to move his gaze away from yours, heading to the fridge.

"Are you alright, Sam?" You asked, and Sam paused briefly before grabbing a drink from the fridge and shutting it. You watched as he fumbled through cabinets looking for something.

"Why are you sitting all by yourself in the kitchen?" He asked, deflecting your question, which you noticed.

You tilted your head slightly, swinging your legs back and forth, "Well, I have the understanding that humans have the urge to eat typically every two hours, so I only found it reasonable to wait in the kitchen to talk to you; since I did not want to bother you while you were in your personal room." You replied quietly, watching as Sam continued to search through the drawers. Seemingly, he seemed to not be able to find whatever he was looking for - giving up - he let out a sigh. Turning around, leaning against the counter, Sam looked back up at you. You both looked at each other for a long while, Sam's knuckles turning white from his grip on the counter behind him. The way you stared at him made Sam nervous. His eyes darted about the room nervously, trying desperately to ignore the burning feeling in his chest. "I deeply apologize if I have upset you in any way, Sam." Your words surprised him, "Dean had tried to reassure me that I had nothing to do with your behavior earlier, but if Dean was wrong, I think it is best that I say that I am sorry." You admitted sadly.

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, "No, Y/N, no, you did nothing wrong." He explained, "If anything, I should be apologizing for ignoring you... I just needed time to think."

Your eyes widened slightly, "You're not angry at me?" You asked, tilting your head to the side slightly in confusion.

Sam shook his head slowly, stepping forward towards you until he stood right in front of you, finding himself in between your legs. "No, honey, I'm not mad at you. I was upset about the hunt."

Your heart flipped at the nickname, "But, it was successful, was it not?" You tilted your head, Sam's own heart racing under your eyes as he reached out a hand and rested it on the side of your cheek. His thumb rubbed across the soft skin gently, sending chills up and down your spine.

"It was, I just... I-" Sam let out a deep sigh, his head falling, his chin to his chest. Again, Sam lost the courage, he couldn't get himself to say it. Not yet anyway. Your hand came up, resting on his forearm, rubbing slow circles onto it, making Sam lift his head again. His hazel eyes caught yours; you looked at him sympathetically before dropping your arm. Leaning forward, placing a kiss on your forehead, Sam breathed out deeply from his nose, shutting his eyes before backing away and leaving the kitchen.

You sat there, confused, but with a warm feeling in your heart as you grabbed your book and continued reading.

- 6 -

Castiel arrived the next day, to accompany you back to Heaven. You didn't want to go, not just yet. You knew you had to go but you didn't want to leave Sam. You went to Castiel, asking him if it was possible to stay one more day. He said you could stay a couple more hours at most, and that was all you could really ask for; just a bit more time.

"Well," Dean had begun, a small Winchester grin on his face. "How ‘bout I set up a movie for us all to watch? Sammy, you make the popcorn, I'll get the beer."

You and Castiel sat on the couch, sitting silently as Dean and Cas got the food and drinks ready, and before you knew it Dean was sitting next to Cas at one end of the couch, and Sam and you were at the other. Glancing over at Dean and Castiel, you noticed Dean's arm lying lazily on the back of the couch, behind Castiel; they looked pretty close and cozy. You shrugged that all off, trying to pay attention to the movie as you became aware of how close you were to Sam.

His thigh was basically pressed against yours, his arm just brushing yours whenever either of you moved. You were becoming acutely aware of Sam's presence, your heart hammering as you bit your lip. You were sure this was an invasion of Sam's personal space, but if he was uncomfortable being so close to you, he would have moved. There was another seat to the left of you. And you knew Sam, at least from the two years you've been on Earth, you knew that Sam would've gotten up if he were uncomfortable. You weren't uncomfortable, no. You rather liked being so close to Sam, his body radiating warmth and comfort. You never felt more safe being so near Sam Winchester.

Your heart plummeted, you'd have to leave back to Heaven soon. A small frown fell onto your lips at the thought; it hurt. What if you didn't see Sam again? Or Dean? What if you never saw either of them again? You knew that wasn't true. You had been through this before, you'd see them again. You just didn't know when. You weren't going to cry, though. Even with tears in your eyes. Your eyes remained glued to the screen.

Sam looked down at you, and had been doing so every once in a while throughout the movie. His eyes glanced down at your hand, noticing it was tightly curled into a fist on your lap, tugging softly on the sweater he let you borrow, your knuckles white. Sam frowned in confusion, wondering if you were upset by the movie, or something else. Without even thinking, Sam reached over and took your hand, and it seemed that was all you needed. Intertwining your fingers with Sam's, his large hand engulfing yours, his warm thumb rubbing small circles on the back of your hand; Sam was being so sweet.

That's when the dam broke. Those tears that you were trying to hold in, fell. You reached up with your free hand, brushing your fingers against your cheek. You had never really cried before, not for real...

"Y/N? Are you okay?" You heard Sam ask, looking up at him, he had such a worried expression on his face. Your mouth opened to speak but no sound came out. With a shaking hand, you pushed the hair out of your face, nodding slightly.

"Hey, is she okay?" Dean then spoke up, peering around Castiel with a frown. "I can turn the movie off, Hell, we can watch a different movie."

You said nothing, trying to stop the tears that kept falling. Sam beside you shook his head, pulling you up to stand with him and leading you down the hall to his room. You followed along blindly, your eyes so full of tears. Sam led you to sit on the bed, taking a seat next to you. He brushed the hair from your face, caressing your cheek gently with his thumb, brushing the tears away. Your lower lip quivered, and you leaned forward burying your face into Sam's chest, wrapping your arms around him tightly. The room filled with silence, the only noise coming from the steady rhythm of Sam's breathing, his heart racing, and your small sniffles. Sam held you, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other gently caressing the back of your head; his fingers brushing through your soft hair. Sam closed his eyes, leaning down to press his nose into the top of your head.

After a few moments, you felt like you could speak without crying. "Sam," You whispered, breaking the silence, pulling back out of his arms, "Is this normal?" You asked, gesturing to the many tears on your face.

Sam gave you a small nod, his hand coming up to brush those said tears away, "Yeah, Y/N," He murmured softly, "Humans cry for a lot of reasons.”

"But, I’m not human…" You responded quietly. "I've never cried before. This is all very new." You felt a little bit better. "I guess this is the closest I'll ever be to being human. Humans and their emotions..." You muttered, turning your gaze downwards.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Sam then asked, "You don't have to if you don't want to," He added, reaching out to take your hands in his own.

You stared down at the floor, unable to look Sam in the eye for long. Eventually, you nodded your head, "Yes" You whispered, "I don't want to go back to Heaven... At least, not yet anyway."

Sam smiled slightly, squeezing your hand gently. "Well, we'll just have to have Cas bring you down here more often," He replied, clearing his throat lightly, "Dean loves you here, I... I love you... Here."

Your head shot up, seeing Sam had brought his gaze to his lap, "Really?" You asked, and Sam nodded, looking up at you with an unknown expression on his face.

"Yeah, Dean’s much nicer when you’re around,” Sam tried to joke, before he continued, “Listen... I've been meaning to tell you this for a while now," Sam began, obviously nervous as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I... You're amazing, Y/N, you are... And..." He trailed off, letting out a breathy laugh, letting go of your hand, he brought his hands to his face, rubbing it as he let out a sigh. You could tell that whatever Sam wanted to tell you was pretty difficult, and it was difficult, Sam felt like he was choking on what he wanted to say. He needed to tell you, he didn't know when he was going to see you again. So you waited patiently for Sam to continue. "I... I think I'm in love with you." He said finally, his voice quiet.

You looked at him for a second, your mind processing what he had just told you. It was so sudden, so unexpected. "You... You.. Can you please say that again?"

"I'm in love with you." Sam repeated, sure of himself, still not meeting your gaze, rubbing his hands on his jeans nervously. He looked up at you, and you saw that Sam seemed a little scared. He was waiting, hoping that you'd say the words back to him, that you were in love with him too. He couldn't help but wonder if you felt the same way.

"Are you sure?" You asked hesitantly, you swallowed thickly, "I mean... I am not-"

"I'm more sure than anything..." Sam interrupted, "More sure than I have been in a long time," He released a sigh, running his hand through his hair. The two of you sat silently for a moment, the silence filling the air; Sam's thoughts swirling around in his brain, he was trying to figure out what to do next. He didn't know where this was going. But you weren't saying anything...

You stared right back at Sam, staring into those hazel eyes that you called your home; he was a slice of Heaven away from Heaven. He was perfect. No matter how much time passed, you couldn't get enough of him. Every time you got to know him, you fell a little bit harder. You never thought that you'd fall for Sam Winchester when you accompanied Castiel to Earth two years ago. But here you were. Falling for him, loving him, wanting to spend the rest of eternity with him. You watched as Sam bit his lip, his eyes studying your features. He looked deep inside, searching for some emotion, some hint of doubt.

Complete joy seemed to flow through you, your hands shaking as you grabbed Sam suddenly by his stubbly cheeks and pulled him towards you, connecting your lips with his. You felt Sam relax instantly; you kissed him with all you had, feeling Sam smile against your lips and wrap his arms around you. You sighed happily, the soft press of lips on your own sending chills down your spine. Sam's hand slid down to the nape of your neck and he deepened the kiss. His other hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb stroking the soft skin underneath your eye, making you lean into his touch.

As the two of you broke away, Sam gently nudged his forehead against yours. "You'll come back, right?"

You let out a small breath, "I'll do all that I can to come back to you, Sam." You replied simply. A slight smile appeared on Sam's face as he leaned in again, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss.

~~~

"Should we check on your brother and Y/N?" Castiel asked Dean, who only shrugged, watching the two cowboys have a showdown on the TV screen.

"Nah," Dean let out, a smirk on his lips, "They'll be fine. When do you and Y/N leave?"

Castiel shifted in his seat slightly, making Dean look over at him, "Tomorrow. I will endure any wrath for us being late."

Dean let out a chuckle, looking back at the screen, "I think I'm rubbing off on you, Cas." Dean teased, causing Castiel to roll his eyes good-naturedly. "I think you wanted to see me, huh?" Dean asked, and Castiel turned to him, a small smile gracing his features.

"It would seem so," Castiel admitted, his blue eyes meeting Dean's emerald green ones.

Dean sighed, his arm on the back of the couch dropping on Castiel's shoulders, "I knew it," He continued to grin, though, this time it was much softer, "I'm awesome."

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findingcrow · 7 months

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I just realized that Will didn’t get the actual gathering experience for so long. His first one was interrupted by the Kalkaras, maybe he went to the second one, but his third? His fourth? The ones where he should have been celebrating, the ones where he should have been making friends and meeting the other rangers that he could have looked up to? He was in Skandia, forgetting everything because of warmweed. He was fighting in wars, battling enemies so much larger than him, and he was doing it almost entirely alone. He didn’t get to sing songs and show the other rangers his mandola, or yell to them Greybeard Halt, for at least 4 years. He barely got the full ranger experience until he was an adult.

#rangers apprentice #john flanagan #will treaty #ranger's apprentice #halt o'carrick #books #horace altman #gilan davidson #gatherings even though they’re meant to be professional always feel like family reunions and yet will only got that after almost dying like #five times #will treaty I’m so sorry #he deserved better #at least he had half #he did say that halt was family enough for anyone in kings of clonmel so #ok that’s all #thank you for coming to this ted talk

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skalidra · 2 months

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: DCU (Comics) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jason Todd/Slade Wilson Characters: Jason Todd, Slade Wilson Additional Tags: Flirting, Five Times, Competency, Peril, Fade to Black Summary:

Jason's used to using his words to distract. Being able to chatter away and keep attention on yourself is one of the core skills of a Robin, and just because he's gotten bigger doesn't mean that he's forgotten how to do it. Most of the time, it works. But for some reason, he never seems to get the chance with Deathstroke.

Jason remembers how Bruce used to stress the importance of communication, back when he was tiny and honestly mostly there for the distraction. It was always a little ironic — and Jason's feelings about that have only grown over the years — to hear Bruce make speeches about the importance of conveying information and being thorough in your explanations for the sake of your team, when he had a tendency to sink into monosyllabic answers if you gave him half a chance, but maybe that was just down to him expecting them to understand him. Maybe he got better with Tim and Damian; Jason hasn't really hung around enough training lectures to know. Maybe he's just an enormous hypocrite.

The point is, that Jason knows he has a tendency to overcompensate for those remembered silences. He learned from Dick to be chatty and to poke at insecurities and weak points, make jokes to hide his own competency in the field, and irritate people. An annoyed enemy (or a really angry one) is usually one that's going to do something stupid or reckless, and yeah, creating opportunities like that isn't as important as it used to be when all his opponents were three times his size, but it's still helpful, so why not let his mouth run? It's worked for him all his life, after all.

It is not working for him tonight.

Read more on the Archive of Our Own!

#I wrote this #SladeJay #Jayde #Five Times #thejasonandsladeagenda

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abugeatbugworld · 3 months

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Five times Dot made Flik laugh and one time she made him cry

"Why do you and Atta hang out so much?"

A smile played along Flik's lips. He glanced over at the small princess sitting beside him on the bank of a puddle, her feet swinging back and forth over the water below them like tiny pendulums. Her eyes were concealed by the sunglasses he'd made for her out of berry stems and translucent flower petals.

Instead of answering Dot's question, Flik asked one in return. "Why do you think we hang out so much?"

"I dunno," she replied with a shrug. Sunlight bounced off her glasses and into Flik's eyes, making him squint. "She's pretty boring, if you ask me. What do you even do when you're together for all that time?"

Flik was glad for the tinted lenses that kept her from seeing the pink in his cheeks. "Oh...we find things to do. You'll understand someday."

Dot wrinkled her nose at the suggestion. Flik loved the way this made her freckles fold into the creases of her skin, like they were playing a game of hide-and-seek.

"Come on, there's no one in your class you're interested in?" he prodded, giving the princess a gentle nudge with his shoulder. "No boys you like spending time with?"

Dot reached up and lowered the sunglasses to the tip of her nose. It took everything in Flik not to burst out laughing at the incredulous look she was giving him.

"The only boys I like are Miss Francis and Dim," she said, her matter-of-fact tone daring him to argue. "The rest of them are dummies."

Flik gasped and put his hand over his heart. "I'm offended!"

A mischievous dimple appeared at the corner of Dot's mouth. She pushed her sunglasses back up to the bridge of her nose, then turned to gaze out over the water.

"You're not a boy. You're Flik."

#a bug's life #pixar #disney pixar #personal #fanfiction #fanfic #pixar fanfic #disney fanfiction #flik #dot #princess dot #five times

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themarginalthinker · 2 months

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Three times Marko woke up

and the one time he didn't ;)

based on the 'five times and the one time not' format, an unedited drabble about our favorite chaotic little vampire gremlin.

Marko wakes to the ever-present rumble of waves against the shore outside.

The sound rolls across the walls of the cave like a heartbeat of its own - the breathing of the world. It seeps into the very stone, a hum that's never quiet distant enough to ever fall deaf to.

The ocean is in his blood.

Marko opens his eyes.

The roost is as it always is - velvety dark, the smell of salt and old wood and his pack in his nose when he takes his first breath of the night. He raises his arms from their bracing cross, letting his hands unfurl and his arms drop with gravity. His back arches, tensing muscles and flexing bone, a wonderful stretch.

He's not the last up, but he is later. He can tell. Some, supernatural sense giving time not numbers, but a feeling. Like sensing the turn of the world. It's early, but the night is moving on.

Marko glances to the side, and sees Dwayne still wrapped in himself, unmoving in his slumber. He's the only other around.

Marko's grin is little and sharp. He moves his feet, sidling his way over to his packmate a grip at a time, until he's right behind him. Close enough that his bare stomach is brushing the edges of Dwayne's coat, inches, if that, separating them.

Dwayne doesn't move, truly dead to the world.

The youngest vampire reaches out a hand, and winds a few locks of the silky, thick, long, dark hair around his fingers. He fucking adores Dwayne's hair, will absolutely start a riot if he ever decides to cut it. (Unlikely, given everything, but there's always the terrible possibility.)

His teeth flash in the darkness.

He tightens his grip, and in one motion as liquid as water over smooth rocks, pulls Dwayne's head back, and bites.

Blood bursts in two little pricks across his tongue, cold and rich, pack blood - not nearly enough to be in anyway satisfying or a danger, but more than enough for its intended effect, which is nigh instantaneous. Dwayne's eyes snap open with a golden glitter, and he swings about with a guttural snarl, his own teeth dropped and claws out.

"You little fucker-!"

Marko howls with delight as the utter, sheer annoyance in the packbond sears into his head. He pulls back, letting himself drop from the roost bars and landing catlike on the dirt floor. Dwayne isn't far behind, bounding after him to do horrible, terrible things to Marko once he catches him.

His laughter and Dwayne's sleepy, irritated grumbling echo across the nest.

Waking up flat isn't very common. Star's bednest is in the main antechamber of the caves, and the sunlight filters in too much to risk trying to actually sleep there. Not to mention she hates having anyone else in her bed. (Including Laddie for that matter.) And anyway, it's not like she has anything Marko's interested in spending a night in the bed.

Star doesn't, that is.

Marko blinks his eyes open. It's still night, though late into it, and the hall of the main chamber is dim, the fires in the bins having burned low a while ago. In the dark, there is the feeling of bunched sheets. A draft breezes over cool skin, where the blood had long since settled from the firey heights. Marko's nose is at a neck littered with marks, and he drags it up a jaw, to an ear.

Paul mutters something incoherent as he tries to burrow his head further into the mass of pillows, trying to hide from Marko.

He doesn't let him. He smiles, and presses lips against the marks he'd made before. Paul sighs. Marko flicks out his tongue and laves over a couple particularly dark ones, where the indent of teeth had turned deadly sharp. Paul's breath hitches. The ghost of salt and iron seeps through Marko's mouth.

Always hungry, always wanting more.

Marko braces his arm across Paul's shoulders, and swings his leg up. Bare in the night, he straddles thin hips, looking down the long body before him, the bites and claw marks. They'll fade soon enough, but for now he's pleased with his night's work. Paul blinks the lingering nap out of his eyes, and stares up at Marko, face open and innocent, and so. Fucking.

Those blond eyebrows quirk.

"Y'alright?" Paul mumbles. He moves his hand, as if to reach out and touch him, touch Marko's face and the line between his eyebrows.

He doesn't let him. Marko takes hold of that hand, and laces their fingers together as he does, bringing it back down to the mattress, the soft pile of things that they've made a perfect mess of. (Blood mingles with other things in stains on the bedding, and they'll get more than an earful later, but right now, it's perfect. Exactly what Marko wants.

Rather than answer, Marko merely lowers himself so he can rest his head on Paul's chest, below his collar bones. Right over his heart. Inside, it sits, so still, so dead. A beat maybe only every other minute or so, keeping unnatural time.

That blood is in Marko's veins, until it's not. Until none of it is.

Normally, this would be the part where Paul get's squirmy, not really liking being weighted down like this, and Marko usually lets him up. But, tonight, be it Marko's lack of response, or the later hour of the night (early hour of the morning?) Paul clicks in the back of his throat and squeezes Marko's hands in his a little tighter.

Leans forward to press a quick kiss to Marko's forehead.

Marko shuts his eyes again, and lets the darkness of the cave fade back into the blackness of rest. He'll have to get up again soon so they can go to sleep properly, but right now, in the bednest, with Paul, between them, this is good.

Its not waking up in the sense that he was ever asleep.

Awareness creeps in in fits and starts. First one sensation, and then another, until they're overlapping and intertwining with each other in such a way that Marko wishes a little like he could go back, to the place he was before this.

The stone of the ground under his legs where he's say is hard, uneven. Little stones leave marks in his skin, through the layers of jeans and chaps. He hadn't noticed them before, and they're like the teeth of the cave itself, biting into him in a shade of what inhabits it.

His head jostles a little as the knee under it moves him, purposefully getting his attention. It had begun to wander again, and it could tell.

"Hey."

A word. Words. Words mean things, and the understanding of this novel concept garners an amused laugh from above him, from above the knee where Marko wants to press his face. Wants to follows the call of the blood under the skin under the thick denim of the pants and ask for more, please, please...

"No."

Marko stops.

The word is like a beam of light through his cottony head, both in hearing it aloud and in the way the meaning cuts through the bond. Marko freezes. One hand had been creeping upwards, up the clothed calf, from the leather boot, the other gripping the opposite knee to get a better hold and fit himself between those legs-

But he cannot. Not now.

Marko's eyes snap upwards with that word, and ocean blue eyes meet ice.

David stares down at him, sitting upwards in the wheelchair, back straight, but, relaxed still. He's god one arm draped over one armrest, bare hand tapping a pale finger against the end, and the other is braced on the other rest, curled fist against his head where he's leaned. Looking down at Marko. Watching him.

Marko turns his face, to rub a cheek against his leg.

David's lips twitch, and Marko feels the pleasure leak into his head like blood staining water.

"You're pushing."

He is, and he knows that. Marko watches David's face as he opens his mouth and runs a wet tongue over the black jeans, above the knee. Mouthing in a pantomime of what he wants.

David's eyes narrow, shards of burning cold that mark his every move and determine just how much he'll allow.

Marko slips the points of fangs into the weave of the fabric, just enough to catch, and faster than a blink, a clawed hand is in Marko's hair.

The pull at his scalp is exquisite. Marko hisses as his head is yanked up to expose his teeth in a grimace. He lets David feel it too, in each other's heads, and this close, he can see the black of the other vampire's pupils widen.

"Are you going to be good, or do I need to put you back down?"

As if he really needs to ask that. As if David doesn't know this game as well as Marko does, and knows that every action Marko takes, is to garner a reaction from David.

But...but.

Marko supposes that tonight, the thought of continuing this particular play ends up feeling like too much. If he kept going, he'd have to get up. Get off his knees, move, speak. He'd have to be...here.

Not tonight.

David sees the change in his face, and feels the shift in the bond. The hand in Marko's hair goes gentle, and the challenging glint in his eyes fades to something softer. The ice melts just a little, and Marko lets the cooling tide of their attention wash over him and start to pull him under again.

He relaxes against the leg again, and lets David toy with a lock of hair, his bare hand - the bad one - rest on his head.

The moments tick by, in breaths not taken, and time uncounted.

Marko closes his eyes again.

The blood on Paul's hands mixes with the dirt from the grave.

Dwayne watches as those fingers dig into the soft earth they'd just exhumed and then gently, lovingly, scooped back into place. Good, living soil, to hold him.

To heal him.

"He's there," Paul whispers into the utter silence of the cave.

Dwayne nods, just a little. "Yeah, he is."

David says nothing. David stands over the pair as they kneel by the hidden mound.

This night, Marko will not wake up.

But they will be here when he does.

#the lost boys #drabble #vampires #five times

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salemoleander · 7 months

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I am getting a sense from context clues on my dash that if my options for babysitter were ever an alligator or Charlie Slimecicle, picking the alligator might give it better odds

#i know it's his egg it's not babysitting. but like. that does not improve this situation #FIVE TIMES #are yall okay????#qsmp #salem tag

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pixiedane · 1 year

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We ended our relationship... for the fifth time.

Did you say "Five Times Beverly and Jean-Luc Split Up + One Time They Stay Together"? Because that's what I heard.

#picard x crusher #beverly crusher #jean luc picard #star trek picard #five times #5 + 1 fic #fic prompt #i hope we all write our own #i will read all of them

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spaceorphan18 · 1 year

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Five Times Kurt Talks About Sex and 1 Time He Doesn't (Part Five)

A/N: So, this was inspired the other day by a Nonny who was asking about how Kurt interacts with others on the topic of sex and this little idea popped in my head.

It’s a little mini-series, and I’ll post one part a day, then I’ll get it up on Ao3 after it’s complete.

It’s set in a post-canon-ish world when they’re all living in New York. The whole thing takes place over the course of a day.

****

Conversation Five : Santana

“We are doing it.”

“We are so not doing it.”

“C’mon, Hummel, I know how you like it.”

“I think you’re ridiculous and it’s not happening.”

“Because you’re afraid of losing.”

“I’m not afraid of losing.”

“Okay, then we’re doing it.”

Santana slams a shot glass in front of him on the kitchen counter, grinning wildly as she opens the bottle of Vodka she’s brought. Kurt arches his eyebrow high. He knows he shouldn’t have let her in the door. He had been having a nice, quiet evening with a book and a couple of episodes of a baking show queued up on his tv. With Blaine at his performance, he knew he’d get a chance to have the night to himself. And then Santana had burst through the door. It’s not his fault that Santana can’t entertain herself while Brittany is away.

“You couldn’t go crash Rachel and Jesse’s?” Kurt suggests. “I hear they’re looking for a third.”

They head to the kitchen table, then Santana pours them both a shot, cackling. “As much as I’m dying to get a look at Rachel Berry’s delicate flower,” she answers sarcastically, “they’re busy tonight. Besides, it’s been a while since you and I have had a little quality one on one time. And if I can’t get you to go out with me - because let’s face it, you are a seventy year old woman at heart - I thought I’d bring the party here.”

Kurt is not amused. “I am not getting drunk for your entertainment.”

Santana claps her hands together. “Well, then you better win the game. The game is ‘Never Have I Ever’ and it’s first to ten…”

“Ten?!”

“Yes, ten. If you’re going to do something, do it right! First to ten loses. And you better keep it dirty, Hummel, because that’s how I like it.” Santana wiggles her eyebrows.

“You’re certifiable. Also, I’m starting.”

“Of course, ladies always go first.”

Kurt picks up the shot, giving it a smell and nearly chokes on fumes alone. Thank god he’s at home. “Fine. Never have I ever… slept with a woman.”

“Ooh, starting easy, I see your game,” Santana says, throwing back the shot. “My turn,” she sings as she pours herself another one. “Never have I ever sucked a dick I actually liked.”

Kurt rolls his eyes as he throws back the shot. It’s been a while, and the alcohol stings a bit as it goes down. But he can do this. No way is he going to give Santana the satisfaction. “Alright… never have I ever had a threesome.”

“You know, you really should,” Santana knocks back the shot. “There’s nothing like getting yourself off to the sight of your partner being thoroughly serviced. Remind me to find you and Blaine the no-strings-attached hunk of your dreams to play around with for your anniversary next year.”

“Oh god…”

She snaps her fingers. “Okay, okay… never have I ever done it outside.”

Kurt grins, shaking his head.

“What?? Seriously, you’ve never even tried?” Santana’s aghast.

“Have you been outside?” Kurt argues. “I have no intention of getting literally dirty while having sex.”

“You are seriously the most boring human ever,” Santana groans.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to take a shot if it applies to you? Or are you going to claim you’ve never done anything outside even though you complained for weeks about doing it on the beach and getting sand up your butt.”

“Oh, fuck, right,” Santana takes a third shot. “I’ve got to be more astute in my questions.” She points a finger at him, eyeing him carefully.

Kurt’s grin grows wider. “Are you feeling it yet?”

“No,” Santana shoots back, a little too quickly. “But I am starving - we should have snacks.” She gets up to begin going through his pantry. “Fat free crackers? Low-sodium popcorn? You guys know that you’re in your twenties and not eighty, right? Oh, good, Cheetos. I’m guessing these are Blaine’s because he’s the one who knows how to have a good time.”

Kurt makes a grimace as Santana sits back down, shoveling the Cheetos into her mouth, orange, dusty crumbs getting everywhere. She offers him some of the bag but he declines, not sure that he’ll ever be able to look at Cheetos the same way again. He watches her for a moment as a question dawns on him. “Never have I ever eaten anything off my partner.”

“Anything?” Santana challenges.

He catches himself. “Spread chocolate syrup on myself and let my partner lick it up.”

“I should make you take a drink for that. What did Blaine eat off you? Whipped cream? Actual syrup? Ranch dressing?” She begins to laugh at her own suggestions. “Oh, wait, no, Blaine spread chocolate syrup on himself and you licked it up? He poured it on his dick, didn’t he?”

“Just take the shot, Santana,” Kurt nudges her the shot glass. “And no - Blaine’s dick tastes like candy without the help of chocolate.”

“You are the worst,” Santana says as she drinks. “How am I already losing this badly? Okay, okay…” She eats more of the Cheetos as she thinks. Then her eyes grow wide as an idea comes to her. “Never have I ever… done it in the same room as my friends without them knowing.”

Kurt eyes her sharply. He probably shouldn’t admit to it, but as boring as his sex life actually is to someone like Santana, it’s nice to tease that he isn’t completely an innocent. He takes the shot and toys with it a little, leaving her in suspense before throwing it back.

“What?!” Santana’s voice is loud and shrill; the four shots she’s had are definitely kicking in. “When? Was I there?? Was this in the loft??”

Kurt chuckles. “Yes and nope.”

“Fuck, really?”

“Yeah,” he replies, offering nothing else. “Are you going to say that you haven’t?” “If we did it in the same room, you’d totally know it,” Santana shoots back. “Britt and I are hot when we fuck.”

“Exobitionist.”

“Prude. It’s your turn..”

“Okay, uh… never have I ever made a sex tape.”

Santana slaps her hand loudly on the table as she takes the shot. “You just can’t stop going for the low hanging fruit, can you? Have a little imagination. Never have I ever moved the mirror so I could watch myself being fucked.”

Kurt grumbles taking the shot.. He’s beginning to feel it, though, and can’t quite stop himself from thinking out loud. “Have you seen Blaine’s ass though? I always just want a view of that ass, so why not look at it in the mirror?” Did he really just say that out loud? Santana lets out a cackle. “What, like you don’t have a mirror near your bed?”

“Oh, honey, we do it to our sex tape. C’mon.”

The room feels warm, and that light, buzzy feeling is taking him quicker than he thought. Usually he holds his liquor better. At least he had a big dinner, so most of it won’t come back up in a few hours. What are they at - five to three? Hopefully, they can wrap this up before Blaine gets home…

Santana stares him down, just waiting for his next statement, but admittedly, it’s getting harder to think of things. “Never have I ever done it in an airplane,” he says.

“Oh, I wish,” Santana cries out. She’s now loud enough that her voice carries throughout the apartment. “We tried, Hummel. We so tried. But then the bathroom smelled like vomit and some old guy kept wanting to get in and then the airplane hit turbulence. We haven’t tried since. Oh, which reminds me, speaking of methods of transportation -- Have I never…wait, I have never… wait, fuck…” She waves her arms in the air as she tries to make it come to her.

“Never have I ever…” he helps her, tightening up his lips, trying not to giggle at her drunkenness.

“Yes,” she points a finger at him, her eyes wide with delight. “Never have I ever been groped in the back of a Prius in the middle of the afternoon in a church parking lot.”

No longer being able to contain it, he bursts out laughing. It’s so oddly specific. And so oddly true. He has no regrets, and takes the shot. “Fair. Okay, so never have I spent a month on the island of Lesbos hoping to have some kind of female orgy and been disappointed when I found mostly tourists looking at old, Greek architecture.”

“Oh my god, I forgot about that trip.” Santana doubles over in laughter, making a mess as she takes her shot and pours another one. Normally, Kurt would be annoyed but he just throws a napkin at her, making them both laugh more.

“You are so drunk,” he tells her.

“And you’re getting there!” she pounds on the table. Her voice is now louder than normal, and quicker as she excitedly spits out the next one. “Okay, let’s get this going -- never have I sucked a dick twice my age.”

Kurt rolls his eyes at her - they’re never going to let him live down Walter. Shot. “Never have I done it for money.” He finds that his voice is growing louder, too. He can’t help it.

She scrunches her nose at him. “Hey, don’t judge, she was a fucking fine rich woman - how do you think we got around Lesbos?” She yells out. Shot. “Never have I had a sex dream that involved my spouse’s brother!”

Shit - when did he tell her that? Shot. “Never have I ever sent a full nude to my entire contact list.” He shoots back quickly - and loudly.

She takes the shot. “At least it was a good angle!”

“If you say so!”

“Never have I ever worn a cockring and hated it!!”

Shot.

“Never have I ever worn a strap on and loved it!!!”

Shot.

“NEVER HAVE I EVER BEEN SO INTO MY HUSBAND’S SUPERHERO-SLASH-BIRD FETISH THAT I REGULARLY MAKE HIM WEAR THAT CHEESY, HOMEMADE RIDICULOUS OUTFIT SO THAT I CAN GET OFF TO IT ANY CHANCE I GET.”

Kurt loses it. Just loses it, laughing so hard that he begins to cry. “Nightbird!” he quips, burying his head in his hands. “You don’t get it, Santana…” his voice is high and slurred and broken up with laughter. “He’s such a dapper Nightbird. And I am the endangered citizen he has to rescue from the Evil Dr. Skunkrat - it was originally Mr. Meerkat but I made it skunkier.”

“Wha…?” Santana’s laughing so hard she can hardly breathe. “Do you mean skankier?”

“Nooooo!” Kurt squeals. “Skunkier!” He takes the shot. “And after I’m rescued I thank him by playing with his gorgeous ass and sucking his delicious vanilla and caramel tasting cock!”

“Oh my god it’s caramel sauce not chocolate…” Santana throws herself back laughing so hard that she tumbles out of her chair.

Sober, he may have been more ashamed to say all of that out loud, but he’s so gone that he really doesn’t care. It’s not like Santana couldn’t have guessed anyway. Instead, he manages to get himself to the ground, and crawl around to Santana’s side to make sure she’s okay. She’s sitting and fine, wiping the tears from her eyes as she scoots towards the kitchen cupboards to lean against them. Oh god, what a night this is turning out to be. He comes to sit next to her, the both of them holding each other close as they laugh together. It does feel good to be this loose every once in a while.

Santana lets out a heavy sigh, placing her head against his. “Thank you for that,” she says. “No really, this is probably the best night I’ve had in a long while. And now I know how to blackmail you if I never need to.”

“Don’t make me regret my life choices in the morning,” he jokes.

“Honestly, Hummel…” her voice grows unusually low and sincere. “Never have I ever barged in on a friend's boring-ass evening because secretly I’m not a huge fan of being on my own.”

He gives her a smile, a bit of warmth spreading in his chest. It’s nice to know that deep down - she does care. “Well,” he offers. “Never have I ever indulged in a drinking game with a close friend because, honestly, I do like talking about sex.”

“Pervert.”

“Sentimentalist.”

“I think this calls for one final shot!” she says. After a moment of struggling, she manages to get up on her knees to reach the bottle and shot glasses, pouring a final shot for each of them. Settling next to him again on the floor, they make a toast and knock back the shot together.

“You know, Santana, that shot makes it ten to nine,” Kurt says, not able to contain a tinge of smugness. “I win.”

“Fuck you, Hummel.”

#s.o. writes things #five times #kurt hummel #kurt hummel fic #hopefully you guys have as much fun with this as I did! :)

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