Fallen- Sam Winchester X Reader

Seven

     By the time you got out of the hospital, you had never been so relieved. You may not know much about being human, but you did know that you hated hospitals. The Winchesters took you back to the bunker, and you would not be left alone if they could help it. You understood their concern, you'd tried to kill yourself, who says it wouldn't happen again? So, you were moved into Sam's room. You weren't complaining about that, but it would be nice to at least get a little privacy. 

    "Then you shouldn't have tried to take your own life." Sam would say, and you'd groan but give in. You spent most of your time in the library, where one of the Winchesters would sit with you. Most of the time they didn't say anything, just read or did research. It was safe to say that you were beyond bored. You and Sam hadn't talked about your kiss, and you weren't sure where the two of you stood. 

    "Can I go get some food or do I have to have a chaperone for that, too?" You sassed to Dean, who was doing God knows what on Sam's laptop. He looked up, beer bottle halfway to his lips. Sighing, he waved you off. You got up, walking to the kitchen in a daze. You had not expected him to actually let you go alone. Maybe they were finally starting to trust that you could be alone again. 

     You made yourself some cereal, leaning against the counter as you ate. Your mind wandered, taking you back to when you were a powerful Angel instead of a depressed human. You couldn't help but think that you were better off human. You weren't a very good Angel. Hell, you weren't a good human either. 

   "Y/n? What are you doing in here?" Sam asked, walking into the kitchen. He was reading, which is what he always did because he didn't want to meet your eyes. You slept in the same bed every night, but he wouldn't look you in the eyes. 

   "Eating cereal." You replied, taking another scoop into your mouth. Sam nodded, walking past you to the fridge. He pulled out a bottle of water and was about to leave again when you spoke. 

   "Why won't you look at me?" You asked, and he froze. Sighing, Sam set the book and bottle of water down before turning to look at you. He actually met your eyes, but there was so much guilt in them when he did that you wished you hadn't said anything. 

     "Because I hate myself for being the reason you almost died." He said, his voice a broken whisper. Your breath hitched in your throat. He blamed himself?

    "Sam... it's not your fault. I chose to do that, it wasn't about you. It's my fault, and mine alone." You explained, walking closer to him. He kept his eyes on you, and you kept your eyes on him. 

    "No, it's my fault. I forced you to feel like you needed to leave. And when you did..." His voice broke on the next part, "You tried to kill yourself." He looked down as if he didn't want you to see that he was in pain. You needed to stop that right now. 

    "Sam. Look at me." He did. You rested your hand on his cheek, smiling up at him because you wanted to do anything that would keep him from feeling so bad. 

    "It is not your fault, okay? I love you, I would never put that guilt on you. It is not your fault." You told him, brushing your finger against his cheek. He looked at you, a smile tugging at his lips at those three words that meant so much. 

   "I love you, too." He breathed out, and you smiled. You stood on your tiptoes, pulling Sam down a bit so your lips would meet. It was a passionate kiss, but it soon turned into something else. Sam grabbed your legs, lifting you up so you could wrap them around his waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck, sliding your tongue along his bottom lip in a way that made him groan. 

       "Bedroom." You panted out, and he nodded before carrying you to his room. He laid you down on the bed, kicking the door closed with his foot before crawling on top of you. You wrapped your legs around his waist again, sliding your hands to his chest and working on the buttons of his shirt. He slid his hands down your sides, grabbing your hips as he moves his lips to your neck. You moaned as he sucked at the sensitive skin, and you knew you'd have a mark tomorrow. Not that you minded. 

       You yanked his shirt off, throwing it onto the floor before taking a moment to admire the gloriousness that was Sam. You brushed your fingers against his anti-possession tattoo, which made him shiver, before pressing your lips against his again. He pulled your shirt off, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your collarbone. 

     "You're so beautiful." He murmured against your skin, and you smiled as a blush crept up your cheeks. It makes you feel special when someone like Sam calls you beautiful. You grabbed his face, pulling him up so you could kiss him. He brushed his thumb against your neck, kissing back with such sweetness it hurt. Then he reached down and unbuttoned your pants, and the frickle frackle began.