Fic: be gentle with me
Title: be gentle with me
Fandom: Supernatural/One Tree Hill Crossover.
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Brooke. Brooke POV.
Rating: PG-13
Words: 988.
Summary: He’s like a giant, taller than Lucas, taller than anyone she has ever met, and has stupid messy hair that doesn’t know how to stay out of his eyes, but somehow when he smiles as he hands her back the books she dropped, her stomach flip-flops and the butterfly wings start to flutter hard against her stomach.
Notes: For lavendergaia, and her prompt for "Sam/Brooke; Nervous". Um, It kind of exploded, so this is only part one.
He’s like a giant, taller than Lucas, taller than anyone she has ever met, and has stupid messy hair that doesn’t know how to stay out of his eyes, but somehow when he smiles as he hands her back the books she dropped, her stomach flip-flops and the butterfly wings start to flutter hard against her stomach.
It was his fault that her stuff fell in the first place. If he wasn’t so damn tall, he’d be able to see when people pass in front of him, instead of looking right over their heads like they don’t exist. Then he had to go and smile at her, apologizing in a soft voice. She takes her things from him with a curt thank you, and walks away. She can feel his bewildered gaze follow her all the way down the hall, but she doesn’t stop. He seems like a nice guy, and she’s had enough of nice guys to last her a lifetime.
But fate’s a bigger bitch than she ever gave her credit for, and Sam Winchester ends up in more than half her classes. She almost groans as he walks into the gym, and he looks bemusedly at her as if he knows what she’s thinking. She glares at him, eyes narrowing and mouth tight. His laughter rings in her ears as he passes by her. Peyton gives her a pointed look and she shrugs with a roll of her eyes. It’s not her fault the new kid’s a freak.
Her eyes aren’t the only ones on him. Whitey looks like he struck gold. This kid was built to play basketball. And he had moves. Not that she was noticing. She was off relationships, and Sam looked like a relationship kind of guy. But she could see what Whitey was thinking; him and the Scott brothers could mean victory for the Ravens. She’s not sure if the sigh she lets out when she hears I’m sorry, sir, but I have to help my dad after school is relief or disappointment.
At the end of the day, the car he slides into is as hot as the brother that drives it. That much she can see from across the parking lot. Sleek lines and a leather jacket, and she knows he’s just her type of the moment; fast and hard, and gone the next day. But her body sees it differently, and quivers excitedly when Sam waves at her, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, as they drive past her on their way out.
The next day, his huge paw of hand encloses around hers and tugs her into the nearest janitor’s closet. As he closes the door, she whirls on him, fury growing in the pit of her stomach. This is not how it goes. She does the pushing into closets and dark corners, it’s her that makes that first move and waits naked in the back of his car, she’s supposed to corrupt him, and he’s supposed to turn around and break her heart. She tells him all of this, finger jabbing harder and harder into his chest, until she finishes with a final huff and heel clad stomp at the floor.
He stares agape at her for a few seconds, and she realizes what a schizoid she must look like. But he laughs, the sweetly amused kind that makes her almost smile, that causes a soothing warmth curl around her stomach. “I just wanted to know why you didn’t like me,” he says with a grin and eyes alight under the fringe of hair that suddenly doesn’t look so stupid on him. She grabs his hand and pulls him from the closet, and tows him along behind her to their first class.
Sam Winchester becomes her friend, of all things. She’s never been good at being friends with guys thing, Mouth not included. She thinks like them, she‘s wired like them, but they’re too busy trying to get into her pants and she’s letting them before they ever actually talk about anything. But Sam is her friend, even if that flutter-y feeling never really went away, and she’d rather not screw it up now.
They study together. Her grades have improved, and she doesn’t know how it’s possible when she spends most of the time laughing at his smart ass remarks, or staring at him when he concentrates so hard that it forces a crinkle in his forehead. And they watch movies. Sam isn’t embarrassed to admit he likes a good chick flick. Titanic makes him weep like a baby. He laughs when she puts in The Fast and The Furious and confesses she likes it, not for the attractive man candy, but for the hot cars and the fact stuff gets blown up and it‘s awesome.
And, sometimes, when he and his father have had another blistering fight and he can’t take his brother’s apologetic looks, he crawls through her window and sleeps on the floor of her room. She’s taken to leaving extra pillows and a blanket out for him. She isn’t surprised anymore when she wakes up in the morning, and he’s there. She feels safe when he’s around, safest when his arm is slung over her shoulder and she’s trapped against his side.
So when he tells her he’s leaving for good, her body surges up on it’s own accord, and her mouth presses hard against his. Those huge hands of his come up to cradle her face, and hold the back of her head when she sinks against him; hiding her face against his chest so he doesn’t see the hot tears flowing down her cheeks and whispers goodbye. She never sleeps with Sam Winchester, but she knows, with all the pieces of her heart, he is the one she would never have regretted; because he was the only boy who broke her heart without meaning to.
Go To Sam's POV: and i'll be gentle with you
Fandom: Supernatural/One Tree Hill Crossover.
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Brooke. Brooke POV.
Rating: PG-13
Words: 988.
Summary: He’s like a giant, taller than Lucas, taller than anyone she has ever met, and has stupid messy hair that doesn’t know how to stay out of his eyes, but somehow when he smiles as he hands her back the books she dropped, her stomach flip-flops and the butterfly wings start to flutter hard against her stomach.
Notes: For lavendergaia, and her prompt for "Sam/Brooke; Nervous". Um, It kind of exploded, so this is only part one.
He’s like a giant, taller than Lucas, taller than anyone she has ever met, and has stupid messy hair that doesn’t know how to stay out of his eyes, but somehow when he smiles as he hands her back the books she dropped, her stomach flip-flops and the butterfly wings start to flutter hard against her stomach.
It was his fault that her stuff fell in the first place. If he wasn’t so damn tall, he’d be able to see when people pass in front of him, instead of looking right over their heads like they don’t exist. Then he had to go and smile at her, apologizing in a soft voice. She takes her things from him with a curt thank you, and walks away. She can feel his bewildered gaze follow her all the way down the hall, but she doesn’t stop. He seems like a nice guy, and she’s had enough of nice guys to last her a lifetime.
But fate’s a bigger bitch than she ever gave her credit for, and Sam Winchester ends up in more than half her classes. She almost groans as he walks into the gym, and he looks bemusedly at her as if he knows what she’s thinking. She glares at him, eyes narrowing and mouth tight. His laughter rings in her ears as he passes by her. Peyton gives her a pointed look and she shrugs with a roll of her eyes. It’s not her fault the new kid’s a freak.
Her eyes aren’t the only ones on him. Whitey looks like he struck gold. This kid was built to play basketball. And he had moves. Not that she was noticing. She was off relationships, and Sam looked like a relationship kind of guy. But she could see what Whitey was thinking; him and the Scott brothers could mean victory for the Ravens. She’s not sure if the sigh she lets out when she hears I’m sorry, sir, but I have to help my dad after school is relief or disappointment.
At the end of the day, the car he slides into is as hot as the brother that drives it. That much she can see from across the parking lot. Sleek lines and a leather jacket, and she knows he’s just her type of the moment; fast and hard, and gone the next day. But her body sees it differently, and quivers excitedly when Sam waves at her, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, as they drive past her on their way out.
The next day, his huge paw of hand encloses around hers and tugs her into the nearest janitor’s closet. As he closes the door, she whirls on him, fury growing in the pit of her stomach. This is not how it goes. She does the pushing into closets and dark corners, it’s her that makes that first move and waits naked in the back of his car, she’s supposed to corrupt him, and he’s supposed to turn around and break her heart. She tells him all of this, finger jabbing harder and harder into his chest, until she finishes with a final huff and heel clad stomp at the floor.
He stares agape at her for a few seconds, and she realizes what a schizoid she must look like. But he laughs, the sweetly amused kind that makes her almost smile, that causes a soothing warmth curl around her stomach. “I just wanted to know why you didn’t like me,” he says with a grin and eyes alight under the fringe of hair that suddenly doesn’t look so stupid on him. She grabs his hand and pulls him from the closet, and tows him along behind her to their first class.
Sam Winchester becomes her friend, of all things. She’s never been good at being friends with guys thing, Mouth not included. She thinks like them, she‘s wired like them, but they’re too busy trying to get into her pants and she’s letting them before they ever actually talk about anything. But Sam is her friend, even if that flutter-y feeling never really went away, and she’d rather not screw it up now.
They study together. Her grades have improved, and she doesn’t know how it’s possible when she spends most of the time laughing at his smart ass remarks, or staring at him when he concentrates so hard that it forces a crinkle in his forehead. And they watch movies. Sam isn’t embarrassed to admit he likes a good chick flick. Titanic makes him weep like a baby. He laughs when she puts in The Fast and The Furious and confesses she likes it, not for the attractive man candy, but for the hot cars and the fact stuff gets blown up and it‘s awesome.
And, sometimes, when he and his father have had another blistering fight and he can’t take his brother’s apologetic looks, he crawls through her window and sleeps on the floor of her room. She’s taken to leaving extra pillows and a blanket out for him. She isn’t surprised anymore when she wakes up in the morning, and he’s there. She feels safe when he’s around, safest when his arm is slung over her shoulder and she’s trapped against his side.
So when he tells her he’s leaving for good, her body surges up on it’s own accord, and her mouth presses hard against his. Those huge hands of his come up to cradle her face, and hold the back of her head when she sinks against him; hiding her face against his chest so he doesn’t see the hot tears flowing down her cheeks and whispers goodbye. She never sleeps with Sam Winchester, but she knows, with all the pieces of her heart, he is the one she would never have regretted; because he was the only boy who broke her heart without meaning to.
Go To Sam's POV: and i'll be gentle with you