supernatural imagines, one shots and preferences

Sam x Reader

Warning: Lots of feelings

Imagine... Sam comforting you during a panic attack.

Sam wasn't coming back, you though. He was probably dead, and it was your fault. He would blame you. Dean would hate you and you'd never see Cas again. As these awful thoughts filled my head, you herd the car door slam shut. The door opened a second later.

If he's dead, they'll hate you. He'll hate you.

Footsteps rang through the bunker. They were headed for your room.

You couldn't help it anymore. Tears and sobbing escaped from your mouth and eyes. Panic swelled up in your chest. The footsteps quickened up.

"[Y/n]?" Sam said, frantically shaking the door handle. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine!" You sobbed. You reached up and wiped your tears. You heaved to breathe. It became louder and louder.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm okay. Just focus on my voice." His voice softened but you could hear the franticness and panic. "Dean and Cas, their fine. Please open the door. I can help. Please?"

Pull it toghter, asshat! He's fine! You thought. You got up, unlocked the door and opened it. Sam stood on the other side. You couldn't control yourself. You practically jumped in his arms. You never wanted to let go. He smelled like blood, sweat and rain. He rocked you in his arms. You shoved your head in his shoulder.

He rubbed your back. "It's okay." He whispered in your ear.

No, it isn't. If you loose him to something you could kill, where would you be?

You finally pulled away and went to sit down. He followed. You studied his face. No noticeable cuts. His cheek had a black and blue mark but he'd live. He gave you his signature puppy dog eyes and grabbed your hand. He made circles with his thumb on your knuckles.

"Sam, I couldn't bare loose you. When you go on a hunt without me, I always think, he's gonna die, or worse and some other crap. I can't do this anymore. I love you, Sam. Please, promise."

"Promise what, [y/n]?" His voice was unusually quiet.

"I don't know." You looked at him but he was already staring. His eyes were sad in the bright light around the room. His shaggy hair hung around his head perfectly.

He brushed a stray lock of hair away from your face. He gently brought you closer to him. His strong arms wrapped around you in a protecting embrace. He kissed your cheek.

"I don't know who would worry about me if you didn't." I felt his smile in your shoulder.

"At your service, Sam Winchester."