#hunter!reader

You get along well enough with the men, and they don't ask prying questions, sensing you're closed off and giving you the Ghost treatment.

Or maybe it was the standoffish response you gave when Soap asked you about your weird tattoos. You didn't care. Either way, no one was prying.

And they seemed to genuinely like you. And if not like you, at least trust you enough to do the job.

You settled into the job, found yourself almost forgetting what you had come from.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Y/N said to herself as she grabbed her duffle bag. Y/N started to put her clothes into her bag. Y/N had to pause because of the tears that were filling her eyes and were clearing her vision. She took a deep breath as she wiped her tears away. Once Y/N finished she zipped up the bag and slung the strap over her shoulder. Right when Y/N opened the door there stood Dean. Dean’s eyes immediately went to her duffle bag. “What are you doing?” Dean asked her in a stern tone. “I’m leaving.” Y/N told him. She brushed past him but before she could walk away, he grabbed one of her wrists.

 “Let me go, Dean!” Y/N told him in a demanding tone. “You’re just going to leave me!” Dean snapped as he looked at her with a dark look in his green eyes. Y/N felt her heart drop as she looked at the darkness in his eyes. “Dean, please.” Y/N said in a soft voice. “You’re just going to fucking abandon me when I fucking need you the most!” Dean snapped as he squeezed her wrist which made her cry out in pain. “Dean, stop!” Y/N cried as tears started to stream down her face, but Dean’s grip only got tighter. “Dean, you’re hurting me!” Y/N snapped in pain. Dean quickly snapped out of it and let go of her wrist that was now red. He could see his handprint on her wrist. This is the first time he has ever physically hurt her. Y/N held her wrist and rubbed it.

 “Y/N I- “Dean started but she quickly cut him off. “Don’t!” Y/N hissed backing away from him. Dean kept quiet as he stared at her with sad eyes. “I’m done, Dean!” Y/N told him in a stern tone. “You’re breaking up with me?” Dean asked as tears started to form in his eyes. “Can you fucking blame me!” Y/N hissed as she glared at him. Dean just looked away from her. “Goodbye, Dean.” Y/N said wiping away her tears. She turned around and walked away.

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It’s been almost five months since Y/N broke up with Dean. Y/N completely ignored Dean. She ignored his calls and texts. He left her voicemails, and she knew he was drunk during every single one.

A couple of months ago Y/N got a phone call from Sam that Dean is now free of the Mark of Cain which relief flooded her. Her and Dean have spoken but it’s still not the way it was before the mark. Every time they saw each other in person Sam or Cas were in the room.

However, a case in New Castle, Indiana has been drawing attention, but Sam is down with the flu and Cas has something else going on, so Y/N was the only one available to do the case with Dean, which Sam didn’t want Dean to do by himself. On the way to the motel Y/N couldn’t help but feel nervous about being alone with Dean. She’s not afraid to be alone with Dean since he is back to who he is, but she can’t help but keep remembering the night she left.

All the hurtful words and him grabbing her wrist, it’s still there in the back of her mind. She just hoped all of that doesn’t affect taking care of this case. She wants to keep that night in the past as much as she can.

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Y/N arrived at the motel before Dean. She had already got her key to her room but decided to wait in the car till Dean showed up. She saw the Impala pull into the parking lot, so she got out and walked to the trunk of her car. She grabbed her duffle bag with her clothes out as Dean parked right beside her. Dean got out of the Impala.

“Hey.” Dean said, shutting the door and walked over to her. “Hi.” Y/N said in a soft voice as she shut her trunk. She avoided looking into his green eyes. “Thanks for doing this. Sammy really didn’t want me to do this by myself.” Dean told her. “It’s no problem.” Y/N said putting the strap of her duffle bag around her shoulder. “I already checked in so let me know when you are ready to head to the police station.” Y/N told him and walked around him to get to her motel room. Dean let out a sigh as he made his way to the office of the motel.

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Y/N and Dean started their interviews at the police station to talk to the sheriff and then split up to talk to any witnesses or the family of the victims. So far there have only been two victims. After she was done, she got a text from Dean asking if she wanted to meet at a bar not too far from the motel to exchange information about the case and Y/N texted back saying she’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. They sat at a booth together telling each other what they have learned so far. The only one who was drinking was Dean. Y/N was never comfortable about drinking during a hunt.

“I’m going to go grab another water.” Y/N told him as she stood up from the booth. She picked up her empty glass and made her way towards the bar. She waited patiently for someone. She was looking around the bar when she heard someone say something. When she looked in front of her, she saw a bartender with short brunette hair and brown eyes looking at her with a kind smile.

“What can I get you?” The bartender asked in a polite tone. Y/N knew he must’ve just started his shift. “Yes, can I get some more water.” Y/N asked as she slid her glass towards him. “Of course.” He said, taking her glass. “I’m Mason.” Mason said introducing himself as he filled the glass up with ice. “Y/N.” Y/N told him. “I don’t recognize you. Are you new in town?” Mason asked her as he filled the glass up with water. “Kinda. I’m actually just hear for work.” Y/N answered him. Before Mason could say anything else, Dean appeared with a glare in his green eyes.

“Shouldn’t you be waiting on other customers instead of flirting with my partner.” Dean said in a snappy tone. “Dean!” Y/N hissed looking at him with a glare. “I wasn’t flirting I was just having a conversation with her while I fixed her, her drink.” Mason told him completely taken aback by Dean’s behavior. “Sure, didn’t look like it from where I was sitting.” Dean snapped. Y/N shook her head as she walked away and out the door.

When she got to her car, she heard Dean calling her name. “What the fuck was that?” Y/N asked him in a demanding tone as she turned around to look at him. “I’m sorry, I got jealous.” Dean told her quickly regretting what he just did in the bar. “You’re not supposed to get jealous over me anymore.” Y/N told him in a stern tone. “What?” Dean asked in a confused tone. “I’m not yours anymore!” Y/N snapped which made Dean go completely numb. A silence fell between them. “I’m going back to the motel.” Y/N told him and got into her car. She started the car and backed out of the parking spot. Dean watched her speed out of the parking lot.

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Y/N was in her motel room getting ready for bed. When she got back to the motel she decided to read more articles about the case on her laptop. Y/N walked out of the bathroom wearing a t-shirt and pajama pants. She tossed her clothes down onto her duffle bag that was on top one of the comfy chairs when she heard a knock at the door. She groaned because she knew it must be Dean. She walked over to the door and opened it to see Dean standing there.

“There’s that sexy face.” Dean said in a flirty tone in his voice walking inside. Y/N knew he was drunk by the way he walked inside and the slur in his voice. She really doesn’t want to deal with a drunk Dean right now. “Dean, please tell me you didn’t drive drunk.” Y/N said with worry as she shut the door. “Don’t worry sexy, I left the bar sober, but I stopped by the liquor store for whiskey and drank it in my room. I needed something strong.” Dean told her which made her feel a bit relieved. “Were you worried about me, sweetheart?” Dean asked with a smirk. “Dean, you need to go back to your room and go lay down.” Y/N told him in a stern tone. She’s not in the mood to deal with this. She wishes Sam was here. “If I go lay down, will you lay down with me?” Dean asked as he walked closer to her. “No.” Y/N said backing up. She kept backing up till her back hit the door.

Y/N went to say something, but Dean cut her off by smashing his lips on top of hers. Y/N was going to push him away, but something made her return the kiss. The kiss wasn’t soft. It was hot and heavy. As they made out Y/N’s hands ran through Dean’s hair which made him groan in her mouth. When Dean’s hand traveled up her shirt that’s when she snapped out of it. Y/N took her hands out of his hair and pushed him away which took Dean by surprise. Y/N was surprised he didn’t fall. She couldn’t help but be mad at herself for letting him kiss her. She was mad at herself for falling right into his trap. She feels so stupid.

“You need to leave.” Y/N told him in a demanding tone. When she walked around him, he grabbed her wrist which made her heart drop. He grabbed the same wrist he grabbed that night she left him. The same wrist he hurt. She immediately thought back to that night where he made her wrist red. His dark eyes looking at her. She snapped out her thoughts when he said her name. She pushed him off her with her other hand.

“Get the fuck out, Dean!” Y/N snapped at him. He went to grab her again, but she slapped his hand away. “NOW!” Y/N yelled as anger flooded her veins. Surprisingly Dean listened to her. He walked out of the motel room slamming the door behind him. Y/N let out a heavy sigh as she ran both hands through her hair. “Calm down.” Y/N whispered to herself and took a deep breath. She could feel herself starting to have a panic attack. She grabbed a water bottle and drank almost the whole bottle.

Y/N has had many panic attacks before, and Dean has always been the one to calm her down but now he’s the one making her have a panic attack.

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Y/N was peacefully sleeping. It took her forever to fall asleep the night before. She kept tossing and turning trying to forget what happened between her and Dean. She finally fell asleep around three in the morning. She was awakened by her phone ringing. She sat up and grabbed her phone off the table. She saw the caller ID was the sheriff. She quickly answered it.

“Hello.” She said once she put the phone up to her ear. “Agent, Ivy.” She heard the sheriff say. “Yes, sir.” Y/N said wiping the sleep out of her eyes. “Is everything alright?” Y/N asked him. “I’m afraid not. We have another deceased victim.” She heard the sheriff say which quickly woke her out of her sleepy state. She couldn’t help but curse inside her head. “I’m at the morgue now and was wondering if you and your partner could meet me here so we can look at the body together.” She heard the sheriff tell her. “Yes, just text me the address.” Y/N told him. “Okay, see you soon.” The sheriff told her. “Yes, sir.” Y/N said and hung up the phone. Y/N looked at the clock and it read seven-thirty.

She was debating on waking Dean up, but she knew he was most likely still passed out and she knew he was going to have a massive hangover. She knew it would be best if she just went on her own.

When she got a text from the sheriff, the address she got out of bed and changed into a nice button-up dress shirt and black pencil skirt. She put on her favorite black shoes that are flats. She tried on heels once and almost fell ten times, so she just sticks with flats. She put on her dress coat and made sure her fake ID was in the pocket that was on the inside of the jacket. She grabbed her keys and walked out of the motel room.

She didn’t even glance over at Dean’s room. She just walked to her car.

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When Y/N got back to the motel she still hadn’t heard anything from Dean, and it was almost ten o’ clock. She knew he was most likely still sleeping so she changed into her regular clothes and went to go get some coffee for the both of them. It took her twenty minutes to get the coffee. When she got to Dean’s door, she could feel her nerves start to pace. She took a deep breath. It’s just Dean. Once she was calm, she knocked onto the door with her elbow since she was holding both coffees. It took a little while for Dean to answer the door. When the door swung open, she saw Dean standing there wearing a T-shirt and boxers. His hair was all messy and she saw the tiredness in his eyes. She wonders if he fell asleep right after he left her room or if he drank some more. “I figured you could use some coffee.” Y/N said holding out one of the coffees toward him. “Thanks.” Dean said taking the coffee. “I don’t deserve it though.” Dean said walking away from her. When he said that she knew right away that he remembered everything that happened last night.

Y/N walked inside the motel room and shut the door behind her. “I met up with the sheriff earlier. There was another body.” Y/N told him. “Fuck.” Dean hissed as he sat down on the edge of the messy bed. “He died the same way as the other two victims. His heart shrunk inside his body. The sheriff said they have never seen this happen before.” Y/N told him and took a sip of her coffee. “Was he also captain of his high school football team?” Dean asked her in a curious tone. Y/N gave him a nod. “Well shit.” Dean said and took a sip of his coffee.

“Any idea what we’re dealing with?” Dean asked her. “I was thinking vengeful spirt.” Y/N answered. “You think we should go to the library and do some research of the town?” Dean asked her. “I was actually going to do that by myself.” Y/N told him looking down at her coffee cup. “I figured your head really isn’t in mood for any reading.” Y/N added tracing over the lid. “Yeah, um you’re right.” Dean said in a soft tone. “I’ll call you if I find anything.” Y/N said looking back at him. Dean just gave her a nod. Y/N walked out of the motel room.

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Y/N found something. In the early 60’s a prom queen was cheated on by her boyfriend who was indeed the captain of the football team of their high school. The girl ended up dying a year later by an overdose of sleeping pills. She became very depressed over the breakup. The first death happened on the anniversary of her death. Then Y/N decided to do research on all three victims and turns out the victims weren’t all just captains of the football team but also all three cheated on their girlfriends in high school. They also all went to the same high school the prom queen went to so it all quickly made sense. Luckily, she was buried in the local cemetery so all they needed to do was dig up the grave and burn the bones.

Y/N and Dean decided to go the next night. They had a hard time finding the grave since the prom queen’s grave is unmarked, but they eventually found it since Y/N was able to get a map of the cemetery. Everything was going good till the ghost of the prom queen appeared and started attacking Dean. Y/N stopped digging but Dean told her to keep digging and to not worry about him.  Y/N continued to dig as fast as she could. When she got to the casket, she heard Dean yell out in pain. The ghost scratched Dean right below his left eye. “Dean!” Y/N said with worry. “Burn the bones, don’t worry about me.” Dean told her in a stern tone as he continued to fight the spirit.

Y/N used the shovel to crack open the casket. She quickly poured gasoline all over the bones. She lit a match and dropped it on the bones. The ghost of the prom queen screamed as she lit up on fire. She continued to burn and scream till she disappeared.

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It was the next morning and Y/N, and Dean were getting ready to head home. Dean would be heading back to the bunker and Y/N would be heading back to her aunt’s house. She’s been staying there since the breakup. Y/N put her duffle bag into her trunk when Dean came out of his room with his stuff. Y/N already returned her key to the desk. Y/N immediately noticed the scratch under his left eye. “Shit, she got you good.” Y/N said shutting her trunk and walked towards him. “It’s fine, obviously I’ve had worse.” Dean told her in a reassuring voice. “I know.” Y/N said and looked down at the ground.

“Listen, I’m really sorry about the other night.” Dean told her. She knew they would have to talk about it eventually. “I was acting like a total dick.” He said which made her nod. “I’m also sorry about all the stuff I said and what I put you through when I had the mark.” Dean added, which made her quickly look up at him. She wasn’t expecting him to say that. “Dean, all that was because of the mark. That wasn’t you.” Y/N told him in reassurance. “But you can’t look me in my eyes because I hurt your wrist.” Dean told her with a little frustration in his voice. “It’s going to take me some time to forget about that. You just need to give me some time.” Y/N told him. Dean knew that she was one hundred percent right. “You were right the other night.” Dean started. “You aren’t mine anymore and I promise to give you space. I’ll give you all the time you need as well.” Dean told her.

Y/N gave him a hug which took him by surprise. He dropped his duffle bag to the ground and hugged her back. “Thank you.” Y/N told him as she laid her head on his chest. “You’re welcome.” Dean told her. He wanted to give her a kiss on the head but knew that wouldn’t be the right thing to do right now so he just stuck to the hug.

“Then get to it. We don’t have much time.” Shuddering a breath, you glanced at the door behind him. On the other side of the wood, Garth’s holiday bash was in full swing. The Winchesters and Co had been invited to help decorate the Garth family tree along with several more of their friends. But you’d worn a secret under your festive top. And when you flashed it at Dean, he stole you away. Any minute now someone would come looking for you to hang the ornaments you brought.

Dean took his time kissing up and down your inner thighs, spreading your legs further apart. “We’ve got time.” Reaching up under your top, his fingers found the surprise. Flicking his thumb over it, he made the little bell jingle at the base of your holly-themed bellybutton ring. Rising on his knees, he nosed it, and canted into your body.

“Dean-“

“So impatient.” When his fingers finally curled through your slick, he chuckled. “I’m sorry, Baby. Didn’t realize you were so ready.” He squinted up at you from the floor. “Did you do this to yourself before we left?”

“Maybe.”

If he had opinions about your naughtiness, he kept them to himself. He gave your holly jingle bell one more flick, then mouthed over your mound. Thankfully the music rose outside, covering up his pleased humming as he did his best to taste every drop of your essence. You slapped a hand over your own mouth to muffle your groans. Your fingers dug into his hair. Your legs began to wobble again.

He tossed one of your thighs over his shoulder. It both gave you somewhere to rest your weight… and opened yourself up further for his feast.

A thought breezed through the back of your mind. It was a good thing he was clean-shaven. Or he’d be a glimmering mess with how much of you he was getting all over his face.

“I can feel you, sweetheart.” Dean curled his fingers, stroking your inner self. “Cum for me, please. Let me taste that sweet release.”

You did your best not to fall apart. If this orgasm was going to hit you as hard as you feared, the whole neighborhood might hear you.

“Please.” He suckled on your clit. His tongue flicked over the bud the same way he would tease the sweet spot on your neck. “Don’t worry about the party. I’ve got you.”

His palm tightened its grip on your thigh, tugging your sex closer to his face. While you shivered, his fingers held you open. His tongue lapped deeper into you. With his face so close, his nose pressed into your clit. Dean’s happy moaning and head tilts, shifting the angles of his movements in distracting ways, it finally was too much. You melted against the wall, held up entirely by Dean’s head between your thighs. The scream of his name you usually would have let out squeezed through your fingers as a high-pitched whine. Dean kept lapping up your release as you recovered.

While your gaze was still hazy, he tugged your clothes back into place. Like a child, he dragged his sleeve across his mouth. You frowned at him.

“What? Maybe I want to be able to remember this all night.”

With a huff, you did your best to make him look presentable instead of his current debauched. “And now anyone who gives you a hug will be able to guess what we were up to.” You tilted your head at him, laughing at yourself as you watched the sex-dazed cogs turning in his head.

He shrugged. “Oops.” Before you could re-enter the party, he pinned your front to the back of the door and kissed up the curve of your neck. “We’re not done you know. Because you’re wearing this all season, right?” He slid a hand over your stomach, flicking his thumb over where your piercing was.

“I bought it for keeps, dear. Of course we’re going to use it all season.” You gave him a quick, dazzling kiss, and then escaped out into the party before he could catch you again.

***

Masterlist

Happy Smutty Holidays - 2025

Other Holiday/Winter Fics:

Bound and Blinded Together: Castiel x Reader (S,A,F, Christmas Light Bondage)

A Party for Two: Bruce Wayne x Reader (S, Holiday Party)

The Kissing Thief: Dick Grayson x Reader (S, complete series)

Cake or Cookies: Bucky Barnes x Reader (S, food mention)

Yuletide Mischief: Loki x Reader (S)

Eight Miracles With You: MJF (AEW) x Reader (S, Hanukkah fic)

The hunt had been long, but the car ride back was even longer. 

You’d been hunting with Sam and Dean for some time, and over the last year or so you had become somewhat of a pretty good hunter yourself. You could handle yourself in a fight against almost anything, and both Sam and Dean knew it. 

The case had started out fairly normal, a run of the mill vampire nest in some midwestern highway town. Having been called in by a local hunter, it seemed like a short detour that wouldn’t take long to take care of. 

So why had this hunt been so different?

Maybe it was the numbers. You three against upwards of a dozen vampires was never going to be fair, but that had never stopped you before. Maybe it was the greasy diner food you’d eaten earlier that day, making you feel off your game. Maybe, by chance, you were slipping. Maybe you weren't as good a hunter as your ego had convinced you that you were.

However it might have happened, you had gotten hurt. 

Now you sat in the backseat of the Impala, rain pitter-pattering on the roof of the car while Sam and Dean sat up in the front. Rock music played softly from the cassette player in the car— Dean’s choice. Besides the music and the rain, the three of you were silent. 

You clutched your arm, the blood slowly seeping through the thin fabric of your overshirt. It wasn’t that bad of a wound, and not the worst you’d had in the last couple of years. Hell, the brothers shouldn’t have even been phased. You just needed to get back to the hotel room and stitch yourself up, and you would be good as new.

Your mind kept flashing back to the abandoned warehouse where the nest had been, and the moment it had happened. 

You were going up against one of the vamps, when the knife it carried had slashed through your upper arm. You had stumbled back, your weapon knocked from your hand. Sam had come up from behind with a machete and decapitated it a second later, but the damage had already been done.

The two of you had stood there for a few moments, adrenaline pumping, just staring at each other. Sam hesitated, his eyes darting to the blood starting to stain your shirt, but he didn't have time to look for long before the rest of the vampires needed taking care of and the hunt continued.

The walk back to the car had been filled with a nearly endless amount of questions from Sam, questions about if there was any chance their blood had mixed with yours, and every time, you refuted it. You were fine, it was just a gash. Not that it convinced Sam, of course.

Back in the Impala, the silence was palpable. Dean kept shifting his eyes back at you every couple of minutes and although he wouldn’t admit it, he was tense. Sam, on the other hand, had his worry written on his face. You tried not to look at him, turning your gaze out the window. In the dark you could see a couple lights speckled through the forested drive as the three of you pulled into town, and eventually into the motel parking lot. 

The sound of the engine slowing pulled you from your thoughts as the car doors opened. Dean walked to the trunk to pull the canvas duffel of wooden stakes and gear, hoisting it over his shoulder. With your free hand you began to open the car door, before Sam apparently beat you to it. He opened the door, his shaggy brown hair framing his face while he looked at you worriedly in the backseat.

”I’m okay, Sam. I can open the door for myself,” you said, with a slight smile audible in your voice.

Sam tilted his head and held eye contact. 

”Yeah…sorry,” he said, stepping back from the car. He waited for you to get out.

You hesitated, waiting for him to go on into the motel. 

“…You can go, Sam. Really, it’s okay. I’ll meet you there.”  

Once Sam gave in and hoisted his backpack over his shoulder, you stood up and got out of the Impala. Clutching your arm, you kicked the door closed with your foot as you turned to face the motel.

There was a flickering neon sign above the building, save for a couple letters that had been long since dead. One of the numbers on the door was crooked and hanging sideways, and you committed the room number to memory.

Stepping inside, you saw Sam and Dean on their feet, doing all their usual things after a hunt. Dean was pulling guns and stakes out from his bag and setting them down on the round table in the corner of the room, where Sam had sat down and was cleaning the shotguns out and sanding the stakes.

You came in and sat down on the bed, groaning. You wanted to get ahead of the wound before it had the chance to become infected.

”Sam?” you asked, eyeballing the first aid kit that sat on the table beside him.

He caught your eyes and followed them to the kit, which he grabbed. His chair pushed against the worn-down hardwood floors as he stood up, coming to sit down on the bed beside you, the squeaky mattress sinking under his weight. 

“I’m taking a shower, be out in 5.” Dean’s voice came from across the room, throwing a towel over his shoulder and shutting the bathroom door behind him with a thud. The tiredness was radiating off of him, and you couldn't be mad. A hot shower sounded like music to your ears, or warm water to your sore muscles. 

The sound of the water turning on could be heard through the thin walls and broke you from your thoughts and back into the room. With Sam. 

You shrugged your flannel overshirt off slowly, sleeve by sleeve. As you peeled it away from the gash, you winced as you saw it fully for the first time. Around the wound was some blood that had already dried, making it look worse than it was. Sam’s expression contorted in concern. 

There was a click of the first aid kit popping open, and you turned to see it opening in Sam’s hand. You opened your free hand and extended it to him. 

“Do we have any wet wipes left?” You asked. 

“I’ve got them,” Sam replied, turning to you and tearing open the packaging with his hands and pulling one out. You waited for him to hand it to you, but he spoke up again, brows furrowed.

”…Let me do this for you.” His voice was sad, and weighed down by guilt that you couldn't seem to place. “Please. It’s the least I can do.”

You looked confused. You were confused. Why was he so set on this? 

“Sam, I’ll be okay, really. You don’t need to coddle me.” You tried to reason with him, but when your gaze met his, your heart sank. His eyes were filled with such genuine concern and compassion towards you. 

“What’s up with you?” You questioned. There was something Sam wasn’t telling you. Something was clearly weighing on him, and to you, it looked a lot like guilt. 

Sam looked down at his hands, clearly thinking. Still holding onto the towelette, he brought his eyes back to yours. Watching his body language, the gears began to turn in your head as to what had brought this on. Before you could ask about it, Sam spoke again, lower and soft, as if he was afraid to scare you away.

”It’s my fault. It’s my fault that you got hurt, so please, let me help. Let me make it up to you.”

”Sam I— what are you talking about?” you asked, almost defensively. Why would this have been his fault? “I put myself in the line of danger, you saved me. If anything, I should be thanking you.” 

The words seemed to go in one of Sam’s ears and out the other, like he wouldn’t accept the truth, convinced he was still at fault. “I should have been there sooner. You could have gotten killed, or worse—“

”Turned? Yeah, right. I’m a capable hunter, you know that,” you assured him. “See? None of their blood even came close.”

While you wouldn’t admit it in the moment, it was in a way, sweet, to see him so worried for your wellbeing. Not that he hadn’t shown that he cared before, but this felt different. 

This felt…genuine. Personal. 

He didn’t want to help you so you could be back in good enough shape to move onto the next hunt, he wanted to help you because he felt like he had to. Like he owed it to you. Like it was the one thing in his power that he could do to mend the damage that he’d convinced himself that he’d done.

“…I’ll admit, my first aid skills are a little rusty,” you remarked after a beat, “so if you want to help me, I’m not going to turn the offer down.” 

Something subtle flashed behind Sam’s eyes as he listened. “…Yeah?”

You smiled softly, his eyes meeting yours again.

“Yeah,” you replied, watching as Sam wiped down your arm and began to dig around in the kit.

It hurt when the needle first pierced your skin, and it hurt after the next stitch, and the next. Sam applied stitches to your arm with great precision, in and out. The sting of your wound closing stitch by stitch should have felt more bothersome than it already did, but there was a comfort in knowing Sam was there and taking care of you. 

———————————————————

By the time he’d snipped the thread and tied it off twenty minutes later, Sam was wiping your arm with another disinfectant wipe to clean any remaining blood. You looked down at his work, admiring how clean the stitching was. You were grateful you’d let him help you.

”Does that feel okay?” Sam asked, checking in on you. His brows were furrowed in lasting concern, unconvinced he’d done enough to make it up to you.

You shook out your arm, the lasting pressure feeling uncomfortable, but expected. “Yeah, that’s a lot better, actually.” Pausing, you looked up from your arm and back towards Sam. “Thank you.”

The moment was melancholic, between the reality of the situation and the intimacy that it provoked. You and Sam sitting less than a foot away from each other on the creaky motel bed, his eyes trying to find something in yours while your blood was underneath his fingernails.

The sanctity was broken by the bathroom door slamming open as Dean stepped out of the bathroom, running a hand through his damp hair.

”The shower's open,” he called over his shoulder, not bothering to pay much attention to the two of you as he opened the mini motel fridge and pulled out a beer. 

“…I’m gonna go shower then,” Sam said, breaking eye contact with you, packing the first aid kit back up and standing.

You watched him longingly, the spot where he sat feeling colder next to you immediately after he left you. Your gaze didn’t leave Sam until he shut the bathroom door behind him.