I know you write a lot of dean fics but can I PLEASE get one of like drunk sam confessing his feelings or being overly fluffyđđ hes like super clingy,completely different from his normal self etc. (you got the restđ)
|| dial drunk (2.2k words)
sam x reader, drunk confessions, fluff, eventual smut
The door of the motel room swung open too hard, the door slapping loudly against the wall. You didnât need to turn around to see who it was; his mumbled âshit, sorry, sorryâ made it obvious it was Sam.
You stood, rounding the corner of the bed to face him. He was clearly drunk, his eyes soft and fragile while he swayed on his feet, just staring at you. Not to mention the bottle of beer dangling from his hand.
You knew Sam well enough to know that he only drank when something was upsetting him. So, tentatively, like approaching a startled deer, you spoke: âSam, where were you?â
He narrowed his eyes at you as if trying to look angry, but he only looked pouty. âUh, a bar. Duh.â
You couldnât help chuckling at his childish indignation, raising your hands in surrender. âRight. Dumb question. Iâm sorry.â
He shook his head, his face immediately falling back to that defenseless, heartbroken look. âNo, no, donât apologize.â Sam leaned sideways to set the beer bottle down on a small, round table near the door. He leaned heavily against it for support in his drunken stupor, pressing his other forearm to his face. âMâ sorry. For showinâ up like this. I just⌠couldnât think about this sober.â
âThink about what sober, Sammy?â you asked carefully, taking a small step towards him.
Sam dropped his arm back to his side, the limb swinging limply at his side as he stared at you with all the vulnerability and trust in the world. âI justâŚâ
âI love you.â
You had to stop yourself from gawking at him. The room seemed to quiet for a long moment, time stalling as if to let you process what had just left the lips you had admired since the first time you saw them, the person you had cared for for months but were too afraid to fully open up to. Of all the times youâd dealt with Sam drunk (which was very few, since he hardly drank), this took the cake as the most outrageous thing heâd ever said. Yet despite yourself, your stomach did that stupid little flip. You tried to shake it off, remind yourself that he was drunk, that he didnât know what he was saying, but his confession didnât stop there.
He stepped towards you, swaying on his feet. âI-I mean, when I first met you Iâ I mean, you were so beautifulâ are so beautiful, a-and I⌠youâre so smart, and strong too, a-and reliable and so, so amazing I couldnât stop myself, I was screwed from the start,â he rambled, those puppy-dog eyes wide and staring into yours. âI mean, I-I thought I couldnât for Jessica, a-and I still love her more than anything, but, you⌠with you, I feel like I could tell you anything, trust you with anything and⌠and you wouldnât leave, yâknow?â He let out an awkward chuckle, lifting his hands towards you, reaching out but too afraid to touch.
His rushed rant left you stunned. It took a minute for you to collect yourself enough to reply. âSam, you donât know what youâre saying,â you began, but he quickly waved his hands, shaking his head.
âNo, no⌠please, I justââ he let out a frustrated sigh, pressing his curled fists to his temples. âI need you. Okay? I canât go on anymore without⌠without knowing if you feel the same. Or if you feel anything at all.â He came closer, directly before you now, all six feet and four inches of him looming over you.
Your eyes softened, gazing into those deep, needy hazel pools. âOh, Sammy,â you whispered, reaching out to gently cup his cheek. He let out a near-whine, leaning his cheek into your palm practically desperately. You felt yourself swallow, a lump of so many different emotions that youâd fought to keep down for months trying to crawl out.
You reached out and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. âSam, lie down, alright?â you murmured, coaxing him towards the bed. He sat down with a solid thump, the springs squealing in protest.
âDonât leave,â he pleaded, his voice quiet and meek as he brought your still-clasped hand to his forehead.
âI wonât,â you promised. âLay down.â
Sam obeyed, reluctantly releasing your hand to lie on his side, facing you. You sat down on the edge of the bed next to him, bringing your hand to his arm to rub it comfortingly up and down. You watched his eyes, trained on you, slowly relax, then flutter in exhaustion, before closing completely.
Your gaze roamed his peaceful face, his lashes, soft lips, hair falling over his forehead. You gently brushed it back, a pained sigh leaving you as you stood up and walked to the other bed, lying down to sleep. You didnât trust yourself to stay beside him.
By the time you woke up in the morning, Sam was already hurling in the bathroom. You could hear him gagging and groaning in discomfort just out of view. With a weak moan, you sat up and stretched your arms over your head, your back arching slightly. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, carefully walking over to the bathroom door. You peeked inside, spotting Samâs hunched body kneeling over the toilet.
âToo much to drink, huh?â you mused lightheartedly. He only moaned in reply.
You got him a bottle of water and a Tylenol for his headache. He took them, swallowing them down greedily. âThank you,â he mumbled, his voice slightly raspy from the sting of vomit.
âDo you remember last night?â you asked him once he was able to pry himself from the toilet.
Sam shot you a wary look, his hands folding over his lap. â... yeah, I do.â
You sat down beside him, touching his arm. He flinched at the contact, those hazel eyes plagued with anxiety and doubt. âIâm real sorry. I shouldnâtâve said those things. Please, just forget about itââ
âWas it true?â
The question slipped out on its own. Sam blinked at your voice, eyes widening in surprise. He swallowed, the ball of his throat bobbing up and down. âWhat would you do if it was?â
âIâd want to hear it from you sober,â you replied calmly.
Sam was dead silent for a while, just staring at you. His eyes flickered between each of yours, unusually timid.
Finally, he spoke. âI, uh⌠I love you,â he started. His hands folded together, forefinger and thumb pinching the thin skin between his fingers absently. âI have for⌠well, months now. I just⌠was scared of losing you, I guess. If you didnât feel the same.â
You exhaled, an affectionate smile gracing your lips. His adorable vulnerability made your heart ache and your yearning strengthened nearly painfully. You reached out and took his hands in yours, your thumb brushing comfortingly over his knuckles. Kneeling face-to-face, your noses hardly an inch apart, youâd never felt so exposed in your life, yet an indescribable warmth flooded you when your eyes met his.âOh, Sammy. I wish you had told me sooner,â you breathed. âBecause I love you too.â
His eyes widened a fraction, his larger palms squeezing yours. Testing. Acknowledging that this was real, not a fantasy or a hallucination. âYou mean that?â he asked, his voice wavering with months of emotions finally coming to light.
âYes, Sam,â you reassured. One of your hands lifted to his face, cupping it just as you had the night before. And once again, he buried against it, tilting his head to brush his lips into your palm. A blush bloomed across your cheeks.
He breathed out your name, all tension and fear his body had held leaving with that breath. Like a long-held burden was finally gone from his shoulders. An almost disbelieving laugh left his lips, a smile slowly dawning on his face. Samâs hand slowly lifted to your cheek, his thumb swiping over it in a tender arc. âCan I kiss you?â he asked, his voice a barely audible whisper.
You laughed, a breathy chuckle that had you tipping your head forward. âPlease wash your mouth first, you were just puking.â
âOh-! Right, sorry,â Samâs face reddened with an embarrassed flush. He quickly stood up and hurried to the sink, grabbing the toothbrush he had left there and brushing his teeth as fast as he could. You couldnât help an amused smile from forming on your lips at his eagerness to kiss you. It was touching, too, to feel so desired. Especially by him.
He straightened up once he was done, hurrying back over to you. âNow?â he asked, and you nodded.
Both of his hands cupped your face this time, and he slowly leaned in, your lips coming together. The kiss was slow, warm, and everything you had ever hoped it would be. He kissed you with all the passion and devotion of a man who had been estranged from the one vice of his life. Samâs hand left your jaw, sliding around your waist to haul you close to him, your bodies pressed together as the kiss deepened. He tilted his head just so, parting his lips in an invitation you happily welcomed, your tongues dragging together in a languid dance you never wanted to stop.
His other hand left your cheek, both palms dragging down your sides and settling at the backs of your thighs. With a small crouch, he hooked his palms under your knees and hauled your legs around his waist. A faint gasp of surprise left your lips. Sam immediately separated from your lips, looking over your face for any hesitation. âIs this okay?â he asked.
You nodded, sliding your arms around his neck as he carried you from the bathroom to the bed. âMore than okay,â you breathed against his neck, nipping down on the skin of his throat and sucking a hickey into the pale flesh, earning a sigh from him. He gently laid you back onto the sheets, his fingers just barely ghosting beneath your shirt to touch your waist. You shivered at the contact, a warmth spreading in your lower stomach that you knew only he could satiate.
You reached for Samâs wrist. He willingly let you guide his hand to your shorts, his fingers curling into the waistband. His eyes searched yours once more, one last check that this was okay, that the desire he felt so strongly for you was mutual. âCâmon, Sammy. Donât leave a girl waiting,â you hummed. He needed no further convincing, dragging your shorts down your legs and tossing them away.
Samâs eyes raked over your form, the loose sleep shirt that hung to your hips, half covering the lace panties you had on beneath, and your bare legs spread on either side of him. A strangled groan left his throat, and you could practically see him twitching in his pants, his cock straining against his jeans.
Sam leaned back over you, kissing your cheek as he slotted his hips to yours, a whine breathed against your skin as he ground your bodies together. âShit⌠so beautifulâŚâ he whispered against you. Your hands gripped the back of his shirt, feeling the flex of his muscles every time his hips rocked forward. The friction against your clit was heavenly, just this having you already seeing stars. God, how long had it been since youâd been with someone? Months, at least. Not since you started having feelings for Sam. Then, no man seemed worth the time to chat up, take back to a motel, leave before morning. No one matched up to him.
âSam,â you crooned, your voice breaking on his name. You were already close. All just because of him.
He pressed his face into your shoulder, a broken moan escaping his mouth. âOh, god⌠Iâm not gonna last,â he admitted, beginning to rut against you quicker, hastey in his need. He groaned out your name, shuddering against you.
âDonât stop,â you breathed, your hand sliding from his back to fist his pretty hair, tugging weakly on the brunette locks. âOh my god, Sam,â you choked out, locking your legs around his waist to bring him impossibly closer.
With a few more rough bucks against you, the tight spring in your stomach snapped, a wanton moan leaving your lips as you came. Sam wasnât far behind, lightly biting your shoulder to muffle a pleasured cry as he finished.
You breathed together in the quiet of the motel, the only audible noise being your labored pants against each other. It was a few minutes before Sam slowly peeled his body off of yours, a red stained across his entire face, completely mortified at himself for coming just from dry humping against you. You felt a similar embarrassment, nibbling the tip of your finger and absently looking away. âI canât believe I justââ he breathed, shaking his head and hiding his face in his hand.
âItâs okay, Sam. I mean, I did too,â you awkwardly chuckled. Your finger hooked under his chin, guiding his face towards yours. âBut next time, let's try and make it all the way, okay?â
His eyes widened at the implication of your words. âNext timeâ? I-I mean, yeah, yes, of course. Iâd love to,â he stammered, tripping over his words.
You could only grin, shaking your head. So stupidly in love with this man, and happy to know he felt just the same.
|| note: why is writing smut so hard đ˘ anyway, thank you for the request, I hope the story is what you were hoping for! đŤś


















