i tried to de smurf her as much as i could

By your side

Pairing: Reader x Sam Winchester.

Word count:1.1k (With lyrics)

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, childbirth complications (it could be considered trigger), tiny bit of angst.

A/N: This is my entry for @mrswhozeewhatsis Louden Swain Spn Writing Challenge

The song: ‘Carpool Lane’ (I always liked this song but it didn’t mean anything special to me ‘till a couple years back, when the lyrics started to make sense). Sorry it took so long, it was kinda hard to get it out.

Taggin: @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid for the aesthetics. (I saw the other artist but i love your work!)

Also, a special thanks to @its-my-perky-nipples for being my first Beta ever! You’re so kind!

And i’m gonna tag @nadiandreu7 @buckyready @captain-princess-rose (It’s a Sam x reader).

I hope you like it. Some feedback would be great!  :)

[Lyrics in italics bold]


Originally posted by samcentric-fics

It’s a fast change, in the carpool lane./Uh-huh./

He looked at her in the passenger seat, her jaw clenched, her eyes shut tightly, and she was holding her breath. Sam shifted gears and reached out for her, his hand landed on her knee.

“Babe!” He tried to get her attention.

Keep reading

Salted Caramel

I was having some serious insomnia. So, what did I do? I wrote an angst fic.

Warning: Angst

It was silent. Eerily so. You glanced out of the sheer curtain-covered window. The clouds were thick and formless, eclipsing the moon and stars. The night was quiet and dark. You curled up in your pool of blankets. You were left to your thoughts. It scared you.

            Today had been a wreck. You had tried your damn hardest to be okay, but nothing was working. Not even your trusted variety shows were working.  It had been so long since you had felt this way. As a result, the anxiety rumbling in the pit of your stomach had caught you off guard.

            In retrospect, you should have seen it coming. The past couple of days had brought you so much trouble when you tried to get out of bed. Today was just the climax. All day you had been fighting the urge to just break down in tears. You never cried. Ever. So you immediately knew that something was amiss.

            When the anxiety had you struggling to breathe, you had to rip your headphones out and kneeled face down into your bed. Who had told you that music would help?! It took everything you had to try to calm down. You could feel you heart still struggling to slow as you unfolded yourself.

            You thought of your mom who just couldn’t understand. She would ask why you couldn’t just snap out of it and unintentionally drive you deeper into despair. You thought of your best friend. As much as you loved her, she had been so judgmental lately. You were terrified of what she would think. You thought of your older sister who was busy enjoying her life in New York City. Your dad didn’t even cross your mind. He would have made it worse. And then it hit you like a brick to the head. Who did you have?

            You wrapped your arms around your knees as you lay under your sheets in fetal position. You looked back at the window. The night looked darker than ever.

            You didn’t sleep well. All night you had been plagued by your thoughts. However, you remained in bed for most of the day, unable to find the motivation to face anything. By the time you had gathered yourself enough to get some water, it was already early afternoon. Realizing the destructive cycle you setting yourself up for, you decided that you needed to get out of the house. Your empty apartment was just a breeding ground for negativity.

            You washed up and put your face on. You brushed your hair and clipped in a bow. You chose stylish but comfortable clothes. You finished the look with heeled boots and a thick scarf. Just because you felt broken didn’t mean that you couldn’t try to be cute. You pulled your purse over your shoulder and headed out the door.

            You stepped into the crisp autumn air with a clack. You made your way to the coffee shop three blocks away from your place. It was your usual spot. The ambiance was cozy, with its dark wood interior and ivory accents. The dim lighting only added to the laidback vibe. You frequented the store so often, that you had befriended the elderly owner. A cup of their house-roasted blend wouldn’t be able to fix you, but the warmth could help ease your soul a bit. The familiar atmosphere should also soothe the demons running free in your mind, even if it was just temporarily.

            The little discolored bell attached to the door rang as you entered the shop. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans wafted over you and the gentle heat of the shop’s air enveloped you. You glanced behind the counter, surprised to not see the aged owner steaming milk for lattes. Instead, a young handsome face greeted you. The man was tall and had hair that was some cross between auburn and chestnut. He had styled it off of his face in a textured side part, exposing his thick matching eyebrows. His wide eyes squinted bit when he smiled to welcome you. Dear lord, the boy had the cutest dimples you had ever seen.

            He was pouring a cup of coffee into a cardboard to-go cup as you approached the counter slowly. You were in awe of how broad his shoulders were and how well his cream knit sweater clung to him beneath his apron. As you admired his hands, the owner of the store came up behind the man. The gray-headed man noticed you standing awkwardly between the door and the counter and gave you a small smile.

            “_______.” He called to you as the pretty boy handed the customer in front of you their coffee. You cleared the rest of the way to the counter and leaned a little on the glass case of pastries. “Is your deadline soon?” The owner asked, knowing your habits all too well. You managed to upturn the corners of your lips. “Not yet. I just needed a pick-me-up.” You answered, hoping that he would brush off your stiff expression as tiredness.

            He nodded in understanding. “Are you staying?” He inquired, motioning at the notebook that peeked out of your purse. “Yes.” You replied, hoping that the conversation would end soon. You were running on empty and your ability to socialize was quickly waning.

            “I have just the thing for you.” He said. You responded with a nod, fully trusting the owner, and made for your nook. You had long ago designated the two-seater table in the back corner as yours. Not that you had much competition for it. It was blatantly separated from the other tables that sat behind the store-front window. As a result, it had to be illuminated by electric tea candles. But you didn’t mind one bit.

            You normally shied away from crowds and you only needed enough light to see the words you were writing. Today, your spot was even better. It isolated you from having to have any social interaction. You were already drained from trying to smile and converse with the owner.

            You had just finished laying out your notebook and pens when a wide white ceramic cup sitting on a matching saucer was placed on the table. It was filled to the brim with whipped cream and an intricate fleur de lis of caramel decorated it. “I will be your server today. My name is Hongbin.” The beautiful man from earlier introduced himself when you looked up. He towered over you when you were standing but now you were sure you were a smurf.

            When you made no move to speak, he questioned, “And your name is?” Slightly embarrassed, you softly gave him your name. He leaned down a bit and said, “That’s a pretty name.” The dimpled smile accompanying the statement only reinforced his sincerity. You felt yourself genuinely smile back. Upon realizing this, you shyly returned your gaze back to your steaming cup. The whipped cream had already begun to melt, threatening to overflow.

            Your smile quickly faded and you heard Hongbin turn to leave. “Wait!” You stopped him. He swiftly turned back, concern written on his face. “This is a caramel macchiato.” You say in a tone laced with panic. Hongbin furrowed his eyebrows a little in confusion. Recognizing how silly you sounded, you hastily added, “I don’t really like sweet things.”

            He gave you a cheeky smirk that had only one dimple showing itself. “Don’t worry. I made that based on my impression of you. Just taste it.” Your eyes fell back to the cup and when you looked up again, Hongbin’s back was already a few feet away from you.

            You returned your attention to back to your cup. You had expected the owner to make your drink. You grabbed the handle and lifted it. Some of the hot liquid sloshed over the side. You brought the cup up to your lips and gently blew. The whipped cream shifted a bit with your breath, exposing the mix of espresso and milk underneath. You took a tentative sip.

            You were taken aback by the flavor and the way it warmed your throat and body. The taste was mildly bitter and deep, with a hint of sweetness. The finishing touch was the fact that the caramel was salted. How did he know?

            Your eyebrows knit together as you watched Hongbin once again behind the counter. He suddenly made eye contact with you. He was expressionless as his eyes bore into yours. In that moment, you were sure he could see right through you.

            The taste was perfect. With that one sip, you thoughts had been silenced and the anxiety in your belly had been calmed. As if he knew, his eyes never strayed from yours.