Supernatural Preferences & Imagines

Sam Winchester Imagine

read the a/n at the end please. And this will be in your point of view. So the use of me, my, I will be used instead of you, your, you're.

He was bad for me.

Yet, he was so good.

The way his eyes devoured me after we meet up after a fight, the way his calloused fingers gripped my hips and pulled me close to his chest, the feeling of adrenaline as his lips capture mine and my legs wrapping around his waist with my hands entangled in his surprisingly soft hair.

He was like a drug, and I could never get enough of a dose of him.

"[Y/N]," he murmured in my ear, eliciting a spark on my skin as the pads of his fingers traced lightly on my exposed back. I closed my eyes and sunk into him, appreciating the feel of my body molded to his. Our legs were tangled together and his hand had stopped tracing to drape over the curve of my hips. "You're tense."

The after smell of sex lingered in the air, but it was faint. I rolled over in the bed, staring up at him and holding his stubbled jaw softly in my hand, trailing down to his chest and pulling away. He growled lightly, his hand resting on my hip and traveling up and down, shivers making me close my eyes once again. "Mmm, Dean," I bit my lip, fully knowing it was a turn on for him. What was a fun morning without a little sexual teasing?

His hand stopped and his captivating green eyes bore into my [E/C] eyes. "I have to go soon." My body dulled, the buzzing of it dying down. "Go?" I repeated dumbly, remembering that I couldn't be in his arms forever. He had places to be, he had other things to do. He had other places to be.

How could I forget that I wasn't his?

I rolled back around, ignoring the painful beating of my heart. "Oh." It was easier to say simple words, rather than explain what I felt. It'd hurt less than to be rejected flat-out. "Hey, what's wrong?"

I'm mad at myself for wishing I could stay in your arms longer for at least once. "Nothing, just still a bit weary." Dean flipped me back over, his hands holding onto my biceps. Not like I had much muscle. "Dean—" "Tell me."

My throats closed up, suddenly parched and dry as sandpaper. I darted my tongue out to lick my drying lips and avoided his eyes. "I would like to stay in your arms more..."I mumbled incoherently, not making eye contact in hopes he would misinterpret my words for something less embarrassing. "What? Don't mumble, I want to know." He said lowly, the deepened voice of his making me look at him again. "I want to stay like this. For longer." I said, more clearly and with a bit of confidence.

But that was sapped from me as soon as the words finished tumbling out of my mouth. He stared at me silently before turning me back over, away from him and worsening the pain in my chest. Then, he pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around me and his face burrowing in the crook of my neck. "I said soon, not now." He whispered against my neck, his lips ghosting over my skin before pressing a soft kiss to it.

Maybe he was better for me, rather than worse.

_____

"Why can't you just stay?" I shouted at him. His eyes were dark green, like a monster had embodied him suddenly. "Because I have other things to do." He snapped, his face contorting into one of disgust and anger.

"Who is it?" I said in a whisper, confusing him deeply at my sudden quietness. "What the hell do you mean?" "What else am I saying? There's obviously someone else!" Dean looked deadly. "What the fuck are you insinuating?!" I stared at him coldly.

"You actually know bigger words."

He snarled and turned around, storming to the door and opening it hard so it hit the wall with a bang. "I'm not staying here to fight with you, we're not together." My fight died out and I stared at his retreating back. He forgot to close the door, leaving me to stare after him. I didn't bother with closing the door, just sinking slowly to the floor and covering my face. "Why does it hurt so much to be with you?" I croaked, slumping against the wall and staring at the white wall in front of me.