Request: Night On The Town
Request: Hii!!! Can I get a SamxReader where Sam, Dean and the reader are in a bar and a lot of guys keep flirting with her and Sam goes in protective, jealous boyfriend. Fluffy please. Love your blog!!!!!
Word Count: 1,204
Thank you!!<3 Have a fab day guys, and lots of love<3
The bar thrums with energy, the Saturday night vibrations passing under your feet with each step that you take. The music is cranked to full volume and the smell of stale beer and sweat invades your nostrils each time that you breathe in. As Dean had so vehemently insisted, the night life of this small, but remarkable town is surely something to behold – it isn’t at all the elderly care home city that you’d come to expect.
Sam’s hand is braced across the small of your back, guiding you deftly through the crowds of people – Dean had called the two of you a few minutes ago, demanding that you let loose and come out tonight. Despite the interruption of your alone time, you don’t mind too much – it isn’t very often that you wrap a case up early enough to warrant taking a night or two for yourselves.
“He’s over there. I’ll go get drinks.” Your boyfriend’s words whisper against your ear, although his voice is raised to be heard above the music. You follow the direction that he points in, nod, and he presses a brief kiss to your temple before he lets you move away from him and into the throngs of people.
Dean is already three drinks deep, the easy smile on his face as he greets you only a marker of the fact.
“Y/N!” He grins, sitting back on his chair and crossing one leg over the other, “Sam went for drinks, or trouble in paradise?”
“He’s bringing your booze. No need to panic.” You reply, and he laughs as you sit down on the chair, glancing over at the bar. It’s busy, and a good few minutes pass before Sam manages to slip his way back through the crowd – well, perhaps slip isn’t the right word. His size must threaten people enough that they move well out of his way when they see him trying to come through, and you have to stifle a laugh as a man nearly falls off of his drunken feet in an attempt to divert himself from Sam’s path.
“Busy night,” Sam says as he sits down, moving his chair closer to yours. The first thing you noticed, after agreeing to make it official with the younger of the Winchester brothers, was how much he loves to be close to you. You’re reminded of it even more as his leg bumps against yours and his hand moves to rest on your thigh – not in a suggestive way at all, but more as a reminder that he’s there; that you’re not alone.
You shoot him a smile and pick up your drink, taking a long sip and watching as Dean cackles with glee at the way your nose crinkles at the strength of it. Sam’s thumb rubs absent circles into your leg and for just a few hours, everything is the way it should be.
“I got it,” You assure the two of them, carefully standing up. It takes Sam a few moments to move his hand from your leg, where it had gradually been creeping further up your thigh for the past hour or so, but eventually he nods, reciting his and Dean’s orders as if you didn’t already know them like a priest knows the bible.
“Don’t take too long.”
Straddling the line between sober and not, you only nod in response as you head over to the bar. The bartender is busy, but you don’t mind standing and waiting, watching as one of them pours a selection of brightly coloured drinks into small glasses, the gradient of them moving from red, through yellow, and into green before the shaker runs dry.
A cheer goes up from behind you, catching your attention, and when you look back from the failed attempt at a bar fight, there’s someone directly in your line of sight.
The guy smiles lazily, swaying side to side on his stool, twisting it this way and that. He makes no secret of the fact that he’s checking you out – he doesn’t look sleazy or anything like that. Just… a guy in a bar who needs to keep his hands to himself.
“Hey, there, sweetheart,” He speaks up in the lull between two songs and you offer him a polite smile and a dip of your head; barely half of a nod, “I’m Jackson.”
“Y/N.” You reply as the beat of a new song begins to start up.
“Pretty name for a pretty girl. Can I buy you a drink?” He asks. You offer him only a smile and a short shake of the head.
“I’m going to get back to my boyfriend in a minute. Sorry.” You reply, and the look on his face shifts for only a moment – if anything, he becomes even more determined.
“Oh, really? I’m sure he can wait ten minutes – or all night. After all…” He pauses, uncrossing his legs and leaning in a little closer to you, “A girl like you doesn’t come along every night.”
“Oh, she definitely comes every night.” Sam’s voice surprises you
almost as much as his hands, sliding around your waist and pulling you back into
him. He keeps a hold of you as he eyes the man up. You stifle a laugh, giving him a subtle elbow to the ribs - he ignores it, however, his eyes on Jackson.
“Hey, no need to be rude, buddy. We were just talking.” He’s obviously backtracking, and you can’t help but to find it amusing.
“Talking? Because from my point of view, you were trying to make a move on my girl.” His voice, though raised to compete with the thumping bass of a new song, is a low, threatening rumble, “You want to deny it?”
“You can hardly blame me.”
“You’re right. She’s gorgeous. And she’s mine. Talk to her again, we’re gonna have a problem.” His voice is even, and there’s something about it that sends a cool shiver down your spine. Jackson nods, grabbing his newly-poured drink off of the bar before getting the hell out of there, back to a group of guys who look like they could be his friends.
Only then do you turn to Sam, watching as he looks down at you with a small smile.
“You’re alright? He wasn’t bothering you?”
“Not at all. That was kind of overkill, don’t you think?” You raise an eyebrow at him, but he only laughs, leaning down and catching your lips in a brief kiss.
“Not at all,” He imitates you, his grasp on your waist tightening a little, “I get to call you mine, and I want the whole world to know it.” He dips down, kissing you once more before looking back to the now-free bartender to order your drinks. Though he lets one arm go, his other snakes around your waist a little further and keeps you pressed to his side – not to an uncomfortable degree, and he’d certainly let you go if you had even the slightest desire to be anywhere else.
“One more drink,” You suggest as you watch the drinks being poured, “Then how about you and I head back to the motel for an hour? Let Dean have some peace?”
His smile remains casual, but something sparks in his eyes, “I knew there was a reason I loved you.”