Summary: loosely based off of Ashley Frangipane’s (Halsey’s) song ‘Borrowing’. You can find the song on youtube… it’s an unreleased song. Basically, Sam has a wife named Nicole who’s a pre-med student at a university in Kansas but he’s fallen in love with the reader, a huntress who moved into the bunker and hunts with him and Dean. This will definitely have a part 2. Pairings: Sam x reader Warnings: cheating, fluff Words: 1,432
A/N: Song lyrics are in bold italics. _______________________________
It was really late. And the hotel room was too dark to be reading this many words. They were beginning to blur together, probably from sleep deprivation, you thought.
It was hard to concentrate and you considered abandoning your efforts and trying again tomorrow but that wasn’t really and option. A week ago the three of you had caught word of some strange deaths in a middle-or-nowhere town in South Dakota and unfortunately it turned our to be a not so simple hunt like you thought it’d be. Without Bobby around to do the research for you, that task fell to you and when you didn’t come up with an answer quickly Dean had shouted at you and told you there were people dying out there (as if you didn’t already know that). So that immense guilt drove you two stay up two nights without sleep to get all the information you needed about this hunt.
An hour or so passed, or maybe it was two, before you let your hands and the lore book fall to your lap.
“You can stop whenever you want to,” Sam said from behind. You jumped, unaware there was another person in your room.
“I don’t want to stop.” You lied. “I’m just really”- you cleared your throat and fixed your hair before turning to face him- “tired.”
“I can take over research duty. You should get some sleep or I’m not letting you hold any weapons.” Sam smirked at you.
You smiled. You couldn’t not smile when Sam looked at you like that. “I’m a better shot than you even in my sleep,” you shot back.
That made him laugh.
When he walked closer to you, you noticed his face was flushed from the cold outside. He was wearing the usual Winchester attire - jeans, work boots, flannel and an army green jacket. You wondered if he and Dean shared the jacket. Sam got closer and pushed your shoulder lightly, “scoot over.” You did. Sam’s phone dinged with a new text message and he glanced at it before refocusing his attention on you.
“How’s Nicole?” You asked politely. It felt awkward to talk about her with Sam for some reason.
“Uh, good.” He cleared his throat in a way that made you think he felt awkward about it too. “She’s got some important test tomorrow for her chem class so I guess she’s kind of stressed.”
“How can she even focus on school at all when you’re out hunting deadly creatures?”
“Coping strategies.” He grinned lazily.
“Phone calls, texts every hour, drowning herself in pre-med school work…” He shrugged.
With Sam sitting so close (practically leaning on you, you were acutely aware of) to you, you felt comforted by the smells that were uniquely Sam. He smelled musky; a nice combination of the slightly dusty smell of old books, old spice, and coffee grounds. Sometimes he smelled like beer, but not tonight. Sometimes like pine needles.
“Do you love her?” Your voice was so quiet you weren’t sure he heard you. You hoped he didn’t, why would you ask him that? It felt way out of line.
At first, he didn’t say anything and you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes. You felt like that one question would break down the privacy in your head and let him read into your mind. Like now he knew how you felt about him and he’d think you were weird. You felt vulnerable and you wished he would just say something before your ‘what if’s?’ drove you into a full blown panic attack.
“I don’t know.” The answer surprised you. The way he spoke was full of doubt and uncertainty.
It was 1:30 am.
We both have so called responsibilities And others to answer to tomorrow But right now I’m begging you to be my safety The kind of love I can’t return, but I’m gonna borrow
You kept reading. Another thirty pages in and you weren’t sure when, but Sam’s arm found its way over your shoulder. He pulled you closer so your back was resting against his chest. You’d been fidgeting and shifting constantly, years of hunting didn’t do very good for your back, and Sam just reached behind you and pulled you into him. It was unexpectedly comforting.
Eventually his hand slipped down her back to rest on the couch and stayed there. That is, except for when he moved or stretched. When he would adjust his position on the couch his hand would reach back up to your shoulder to hold you against him while he shifted.
Your eyes meet mine The lights are playing shadows right down to your collar
The words became jumbled in your head at the feeling of his broad chest rising as he breathed beneath you. His breath tickled the back of your neck, your hair tied up in a messy ponytail. As his breathing slowed his chin would rest on the top of your head like he was going to fall asleep like that.
Again, you lost your place in the book and you dropped the book to your lap for a second, leaning your head back against his shoulder.
Sam’s head dropped close to your ear and he said in a soft, sleepy voice, “take a break,” and he took the book from your grip and placed it on the floor. He reached over you for a second to grab the bottle of water that sat on the bedside table, his body curving around you before settling back against the stiff hotel couch. He twisted the cap off and handed it to you. You took a sip, then set it back down. You tried not to squirm or move to much (you didn’t want him to think you didn’t like the current position you were in) but your back felt stiff and the muscles in your shoulders and neck were aching. Unable to help yourself, you arched your back to relieve the pressure.
“You alright?” He asked.
You nodded, too tired to answer but felt him moving beneath you again slowly, “Here…”
Sam slid his jacket off and scooted down the couch so he could rest on his side, then he tugged you so that you were lying on your back in front of him with his well-toned arm beneath your head like a pillow. Your body relaxed instantly, his warm flannel hugged up beside you like a blanket.
“Better?” He asked.
Sam’s arm curved around your shoulder when you just looked down and shifted towards him on your side without answering. He was warm and it was nice to be held like this. You hadn’t had someone to hold you this way since… well ever. And God knows you wanted to be held. To be able to let your guard down for a little while still feeling safe. And who could make you feel safer than Sam Winchester?
I’m sorry darling, I know he’s yours I know you make him breakfast and fit between his arms Tonight I’m borrowing a perfect man I’m borrowing your broken love I’m sorry darling, I know he’s yours I know you wear his class ring and I don’t mean you any harm Tonight I’m borrowing a perfect man I’m borrowing your broken love
Neither of you said anything for a long while. You just breathed. And enjoyed the feeling of having someone so close you could hear the others heart beating in their chest. By that time, your cheek was firmly resting against his flannel clad chest, feeling his ribs expanding while his lungs filled with air.
You wondered if there was any blood left in his arm. You wondered what would happen when you returned home. You didn’t move away from him. You’re eyes were tired. You were tired. Too tired.
Your eyes were half shut, and so were Sam’s. His lips were a pale pinkish color. He smelled like he just shaved but stubble was already beginning to grow back in around his mouth. You liked it. Even though the freezing weather caused his lips to crack, bleeding just barely on his lower lip, they still looked nice. They fit nicely on his face… perfectly Sam. Perfectly something.
He nudged your nose with his, and his lips fell sleepily against yours. Soft and open, slightly drowsy.
You wanted to look back up at him. Look at his pretty eyes, maybe kiss him again but you didn’t. Your eyes fluttered closed and you couldn’t stay awake. He couldn’t either.