Supernatural fluff

Sam x Reader (1)

"Yipe!"

The crack of thunder outside the window is so loud even Dean jumps a bit. You're the one who yelps, practically leaping off the bed and almost sending Sam's laptop tumbling to the floor. A moment before you'd been sitting with your head on his shoulder, trying to nose into whatever monster he thought you all were chasing down this week, but the storm had jolted you all the way to the other side of the bed. Rip. So much for playing it cool. Both of the boys are now staring at you, which doesn't really help the panic rising in your throat. You purse your lips.

"Hey," you say in a would-be-casual tone, clearing your throats awkwardly. Finger guns. Yes. You are the highest example of class.

"It just startled me, ok? Jesus Christ, you two leave me alone?" You say with a smirk. You pray your act is sufficient.

Dean snickers and shakes his head, turning back to that mess of a journal. You stick out your tongue at him when he turns his back. Sam smiles, but there's worry etched on his face. Thunder rumbles again and your shoulders tense up immediately. You return his smile a bit tightly, and he can tell.

"Hey Dean, are you sure you locked the car?" He asks, not looking away from you.

"What, you think I'm stupid or something? Of course I locked the damn car! Are you nuts?" He replies, looking up rather surprised. A smile twitches on your lips. Of all the things to get under his skin, that's the best one; his car. But what is Sam up to? You both know it's best not to get Dean riled up about his baby. Only leads to pain and suffering on all ends.

"Go double check. I'm not sure you did." Sam says easily. Dean makes a sound of protest.

"Dude, are you out of your mind or something?"

"Dean!" Sam's voice isn't so casual this time. It's urgent or something. Dean looks from Sam to you and seems to get the picture. From the lightning to your frightened eyes to his own not-so-soft exterior, he knows what Sam's getting at. You need a minute. But it doesn't stop him from grumbling all the way out the door. That man always has to make a goddamn scene, I swear.

The second the door is shut, Sam closes his laptop.

"Does it bother you? The storm?" He asks softly. You divert your eyes from his, playing with the sleeve of your sweater.

"Yeah.... Astraphobia." You say softly, allowing yourself to look up and sit back down on the bed. His eyes lock onto your and hold on tight. You can't help but soak it in, him looking at you like that. He's wonderful, inside and out. What a gem. What a gift from god. He isn't harsh or judgmental. Just soft and perfect and gentle. You allow a shy smile and a shrug of your shoulders, but it's replaced with rigid posture when thunder rings out again.

Sam frowns for about half a second and then places his laptop on the table beside the bed. You raise your eyebrows but you're helpless. He's too quick. Before you even know it he has lunged across the bed and tackled you, pinning you under his frame.

"What the he-" but your surprise is cut out by a fit of outrageous laughter as he forces you to endure the torment of tickling. You screech and laugh and holler until you're laughing so hard there are tears coming out of your eyes and you can't breathe.

"Sam! Sammy stop!" You gasp through a fit of giggles, and finally, he relents. You can't help but let out one last enormous snort at the man above you, hair disheveled and a grin on his face. Then the grin is replaced with soft concern.

"Better?"

You blink. You'd completely forgotten about the storm in the midst of his attack, and you beam. That's what he meant to do all along. What an angel oh my lord. Before you even really think about it, you place a shy kiss on the mooses nose.

"I love you," you tell him matter of factly. "Shit. Well I just said that out loud rip."

He doesn't even look surprised.

"Yeah, you're pretty fantastic too, ya know?" And he really kisses you, soft and warm and wonderful. He smells like laundry detergents from that stupid flannel and his stupid gorgeous hair brushes your cheek and his stupid smile against your lips practically melts you. You grin into the kiss just before you break apart.

You're still beaming when the kiss ends, and he flops off of you. He grabs his laptop from the table and you scoot back over to rest your head on his shoulder. His arm snaked around your waist, protection from the now distant rumble of the storm. You bury your nose in his shirt for a moment, taking in his scent and the feeling in your chest that's warmer than anything.

The door swings open and Dean's back again, drenched from head to toe. The tender moment is spoiled by the laughter that explodes from the bed, and Dean's scowl.

"If I didn't love you two so much I would kill you. The next time you want to have a make out session just tell me to go get a drink or something," he grumbles. "The next time I get sent out in the rain for the sake of fucking romance, I pack up the Impala and leave you two idiots behind."

But you and Sam are still laughing, you snorts muffled by the flannel you've buried your face in in your laughter.

~K