domestic sam

Family Visit--T.H

Last night had been exhausting. Tom had kept you up all night, showing you apartments that he saw suitable. In the end you had to tell him to just shush so you could go to sleep. You woke up to an empty bed, though when you reached over you discovered that the sheets were still warm to the touch. Climbing out of bed, whilst tripping over your clothes that were strewn across the floor, you walked over the open bedroom door.

Walking to the dark kitchen, you flicked on the light switch and started to pull eggs out the fridge. Just as you were placing the frying pan on the hob, Tom entered not so gracefully, walking with heavy feet. He approached you, leaning down to place a soft kiss against your temple, whilst squeezing your hip. He muttered in your ear “Good mornin’ love”

After replying a peppy good morning to him too, you reached over and cracked the eggs into he pan. Tom still had his head rested on your shoulder, both his hands now resting on your hips.

After a few seconds, Tom pulled away to put the coffee on. You sighed at the feeling of his warm hands leaving your hips, making you shiver. “I’ll put the heating on” Tom said monotonously, walking towards the keypad on the wall near the front door. You smiled to yourself, loving how Tom noticed your shivers. “You do remember we’re going to my parents today don’t you?” Tom asked as he re-entered the kitchen, turning you round by placing his hands on your waist. “Course” You replied with a small smile, leaning up to give Tom a loving kiss. When you pulled back you were met with a content smile, that you returned willingly.

A couple hours later and you were on the front steps of Tom’s family home. As you rang the doorbell, Tom placed his arm round your shoulders, pulling you into him to protect you from the fierce winter chill. You smiled up at him, then turned your head back to the front as the door opened.

You beamed at Tom’s mum, whilst Tom himself disconnected himself from you to wrap his arms round her in a bear hug. You were then both ushered in quickly from the cold, being told we’d catch a cold. We walked into the living room, after a quick catch up with Nikki, where Tom’s twin brothers, Sam and Harry, were sat watching Batman. Tom walked forward and wrapped the two in a brotherly hug, teasing them about not watching Spiderman. “Where’s Paddy?” You asked from the doorway, keen to talk to him. You and Paddy had become close after you met for the first time. Whenever you came round you would help him with his homework, give him advice and when he was younger you would play lego with him. Now you would often complete 300 piece puzzles in the living room together.

“He’s out at one of his friends house’s” Sam replied knowingly. Tom sauntered back up to you and wrapped his arms around you in a hug, “Don’t worry, you’ve got me, you’re favourite Holland!” Tom said in hopes of cheering you up. “Who said you’re my favourite?” You wittily replied. He playfully smacked you gently on the shoulder, then pulled you to the sofa to watch Batman.

You plonked onto the seat, squeezed next to Harry who was engrossed in the film, and wrapped your arm around Tom’s middle. He in turn placed his arms round your shoulders, effectively pulling you closer into him. He placed a kiss on your cheek, then you heard gagging from next to you.

Turning, you saw Sam and Harry turned towards you, pretending to be sick. You blushed, pulling away from Tom slightly and started to apologise “Sorry, we’ll try to be….” Before you could finish your apology, Tom pulled you flush onto his lap. You squealed, which caught the twins attention. “We’ll be as cute as we want to be thank you” He then gave you a sound kiss on your lips to seal what he had said. Your eyebrows shot up as Tom continued to kiss you slowly and languidly.

You seemed to blur out that you were in Tom’s childhood home, returning the kiss with equal passion. When you heard a cough from the door way, you whipped your head round to see Tom’s parents seemingly stood there with mixed expressions. You promptly pulled away, climbing of his lap, sitting just next to him instead. Tom stayed quiet, though he was now a deep red.

“keep it to the bedroom thanks kids. There’s young eyes present” Tom’s dad said, pointing to Paddy stood just next to him, biting his lower lip in an attempt to not burst out laughing at your joint embarrassment. You turned to Tom, who looked just as alarmed as you felt.

“Batman” He uttered then turned to watch the tv, now notably keeping his hands to himself.

Definitely don’t imagine a depowered, almost-human Gabriel, pretending to be fast asleep in the back seat of the Impala in the hopes that Sam will carry him into the Bunker.

Definitely don’t imagine Sam knowing that Gabriel isn’t really asleep, but carrying him in anyway.

Don’t imagine Sam cradling Gabriel to his chest and then laying him carefully down, smoothing the hair off his forehead tenderly.


If I didn't love you, you would be screwed.

Summary: Sometimes, Sam is a superhero, but most of the time he is just a dad.
Word counting: 582 words
Pairing: Sam Wilson x East-Asian!Reader
Warnings: Family fluff. Domestic Avengers.

Originally posted by dailyteamcap

“Are you sure you can do this?” You looked at Sam.

“Baby, it is just a diaper.” Your husband looked at you. “It is not like he dropped a bomb, it’s just poop.”

You gave him an unsure look. Your son - Joshua - was nine months old now, and Sam had only changed peed diapers during his short parenthood.

“Okay.” You sighed. “Okay, just…”

“Go finish your task.” He rolled his eyes. “I do it. And then I’ll feed Josh and put him to bed.”

You sighed, but complied, and he looked at the boy in his arms.

Joshua looked like a perfect mix of you too. With his dark skin tone and your East-Asian features, he was a sight to your eyes.

Steve was, of course, his godfather, and was deep in his role. If you needed anything or any help, he was right there. He always took care of the baby when you and Sam needed a night to yourselves.

“Now, champ.” He looked at the boy. “Let’s clean you.”

Sam considered himself as a good project of a dad. He had good intentions, but was far from perfect.

“Okay.” He said, putting the baby down. “This can’t be so hard, Y/N do this all the time.”

He looked around, finding the wipes and the powder and smiling openly.

Yep. It was easy.

“Now, boy.” He smiled. “Let’s clean you up.”

Keep reading

Domestic Destiel

Sam notices it. He notices the way that Cas’s eyes get just a little bigger when Dean walks into the room. He notices that when Dean wishes them goodnight, his hand stays on Cas’s shoulder just long enough to be more than a friendly pat. He notices the way that when Dean does leave, Cas’s eyes follow him all the way until he’s out of sight, and even then some. He notices the way that Cas starts smelling like the soap Dean uses. He notices when Dean is cooking in the morning that he begins to put chocolate chips in the pancakes, and he’s never done that before. He notices how Cas always volunteers to wake Dean up. How Dean gets into the habit of sleeping in since this started, never waking before Cas. He notices the way that the time between finishing a hunt and calling Cas to let him know they’re safe diminishes to nearly nothing. He notices the way that Dean stops going to bars and coming back in the morning covered in red lipstick kisses, instead dragging ‘the whole gang’ along when he wants a beer. He sees how the waitress hits on Cas, and the way Dean looks at her, almost a glare. He notices when Cas sits down right next to Dean, their thighs pushed against eachother despite the booth they share being big enough for both to have plenty of space. He sees the way that Dean doesn’t move away. He sees how Cas is always ready to hand a napkin or hot sauce to Dean, before he even asks. He notices how when Dean jokes with sam, he smiles more than usual. He notices the way that Dean doesn’t smack his hand away when he goes to turn the Metallica song down. The way that he drives with his right hand, the left one hanging down, hidden from sam’s view by the seat and the rest of Dean’s body. He takes note of the way that whenever he does this, Cas always seems to sit on the left side of the back, his hand hidden too. He notices the way that Dean hums love songs as he cleans. He notices the way that Cas gets them stuck in his head too, even though he’s never paid attention to the lyrics before or gone out of his way to hear it. He notices the way that Dean leaves his bedroom door open at night, 'in case there’s an emergency’. He sees it when Cas starts making the coffee extra black, instead of with lots of sugar the way he prefers it. He hears it late at night when Cas walks across the hall and into Deans room. He sees when he goes to bed, the two of them lying in deans bed, Castiel Curled up and looking small for the first time. He sees the way that Deans arms curl around him like a shield. He hears them snoring together, tangled together under the blanket Cas must have brought from his room. He notices in the morning when he finds Cas back in his own bed, with his own pillow. He notices the way neither mention it. He notices when Dean doesn’t complain when Cas steals his bathrobe, or when he uses his shirts without asking. Sam notices when Dean and Cas bump into eachother while making dinner, both crashing to the ground. He notices when Dean looks at him, and then back to Cas (who is still in his lap from the fall). He sees it when Dean grabs the angel’s hand. He notices it when Dean opens his mouth to tell him, and Sam just shakes his head and smiles. He notices when the two start holding hands in public. He notices when Cas sits down on Deans lap and smiles more than ever. He notices the sparkle in Dean’s eyes when he looks at Cas, always like he’s seeing him for the first time. Sam notices it. And Sam is happy with it, because truly he’s okay with anything if it makes his brother happy. And God above, he’d never seen his brother more happy or more in love than with Cas.

Just Like Daddy

Summary: Dean has a nice conversation with his “Princesses.”

Pairing: Domestic!DeanXReader

Warnings: talking about dragons and princesses and stuff (not sure if that’s a real warning but I’ll put it in case)

Word count: ~700


“Daddy, why is Uncle Sam taller than you?” a small voice asks, and it catches your attention almost immediately.

You look up at Dean and wait for his answer, wondering how he’ll try to explain this one.

“I’m not really sure, Princess,” he admits, and her little head cocks to the side in confusion. “He just is.”

“Will Sissy be taller than me?” she asks, setting down her watering can on the ground and looking over to where her younger sister was playing in some mud.

“Maybe, I’m not sure,” Dean answers, picking up the small shovel and rake she had set down earlier. “But it doesn’t matter if she is.”

“Because I’ll always be there for her,” your eldest daughter says with a nod. “Like you’re always there for Uncle Sam.”

He pauses for a second, her words making a smile grow on his lips. He looks over to you, as though trying to figure out where she would learn to say something like that, and you shake your head.

She figured it out all on her own, from watching her father interact with his brother.

“Daddy?” she asks, and he turns his attention to her once more.

“Yes, Princess?” he answers as she scoops up her watering can.

“I wanna be just like you when I grow up,” she says happily, trotting a few feet forward to water a small plant growing from the ground.

His heart constricts, and he smiles as he watches her trot forward a few more paces to water another plant.

“Why is that, Princess?” he prompts.

“Cause you plant flowers with me and have tea parties with me and cause you love Mama and Sissy a lot and because you’re so cool like Uncle Sam,” she explains, like it’s the most simple thing in the world. “And cause you love me.”

“Of course I love you,” he says in a thick voice, this conversation with his oldest daughter making his heart swell. “You’re my Princess.”

“Daddy! Wanna princess!” a smaller voice chimes, and he sees his younger daughter toddling toward him, her face, arms, torso, and legs covered in mud.

“You’re my Princess, too,” he presses a kiss to her forehead as she latches onto him. “You’re both my Princesses.”

“Mama you queen!” she chants, clapping excitedly, and he grins as mud splatters across her hot pink tutu that she had to wear to play outside.

“Yeah, Daddy! If we’re princesses, Mama has to be a queen,” his oldest proclaims, and he grins slightly.

“Is that so?” he directs the question toward you, where you lay tanning in the sun’s rays. You crack an eye open and look at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Damn right I’m a queen,” you mutter, sending him a knowing look.

“Mama queen!” your youngest chirps, and she races on chubby little feet toward you.

Dean watches as muddy handprints make their way to your clothes, a quiet groan leaving your lips at the mess.

“Daddy, I think Sissy isn’t a princess,” his oldest says, her nose crinkled slightly as she watches her younger sister. “She’s too muddy. Maybe she can be a dragon.”

“Princesses can get dirty,” he tells her, and she hums. She pauses for a moment, as though thinking about his words.

“No, Sissy is definitely not a princess,” she states once more, looking up to him sharply. “You can only have one princess and that’s me.”

“But what happened to always being there for her?” Dean asks, and she huffs as she picks up her remaining gardening tools.

“Well, I’ll always be there for her, even if she is a dragon and not a princess,” she says with ease.

“I think your Mama needs some help with the dragon, huh?” he asks, noticing how you were trying to keep your youngest entertained without getting too dirty.

“Yeah, Daddy,” she nods quickly. “You’re the knight, you have to save her from the dragon.”

“What will you do?” he asks as she gathers up her watering can and huffs.

“I’ve gotta try to turn the dragon into a princess again,” she says, and she hauls her watering can toward her sister, where she promptly dumps the water onto her sister.

And when his youngest starts to bawl at her sister’s actions, he knows that her idea of always being there for her was just slightly different than his idea of being there for Sam.

But it’s the thought that counts… Right?

Here’s some fluff for my Supernatural family, to make up for tonight’s episode. @daughter-of-the-rain-and-snow, @gneisscastiel, @jemariel, @magnificent-winged-beast, @bae-in-a-trenchcoat, @silvie111

Someone is watching him.

Even through a shroud of sleep, he can feel it – that vague tickle of awareness, prickling at the edge of his senses. Insistent. Urgent.

His hunter’s instincts are unparalleled. They’ve been honed over a lifetime of tight scrapes and desperate situations, and he’s learned to depend on them to keep him alive when everything else has gone to shit. It’s these instincts, right now, urging him towards awareness, dragging him towards wakefulness.

For several moments, he lies still, breathing deeply. He keeps his eyes closed and takes stock of his surroundings – the feeling of the blanket bunched around his waist, the softness of the memory foam mattress under him, the distinct realization that he’s not wearing any clothes, and - most conspicuous -  the soft drag of fingers up and down his arm, brushing over the crown of his shoulder before running back down. 

And, of course, that insistent feeling of being watched.

He turns his face into the pillow, grumbling sleepily.

“Cas. We’ve talked about the staring.”

The fingers pause, just for a second, before dipping into the crook of his elbow.


He can feel Cas’ stare like a physical sensation, almost like he’s standing in front of a window and turning his face into the sunlight, warm and bright against his cheeks. Even with his eyes closed, he can see it - their foreheads almost touching, Cas scooted as close to Dean as possible, body curved towards him like a soft smile, blue eyes roving slowly and unblinking over Dean’s face, as if trying to memorize every line and angle. It’s both flattering and unnerving, and Dean can see it perfectly because this isn’t the first time he’s woken up like this. Not by a long shot.

“Dude, take a picture,” he huffs, mouth twitching in a smile. “It’ll last longer.”

The bed shifts, Cas’ fingers withdrawing from Dean’s skin. Dean feels their absence keenly, but he feels the space between them even more acutely, like a chasm opening up, as Cas shifts and resettles in the bed, probably trying to get more comfortable. He’s on the verge of telling Cas to settle back down already when he hears the distinct, unmistakable sound of a camera shutter.

His eyes snap open. It takes a second for them to adjust, to focus on the cell-phone poised directly in front of his face.

“…Cas, you didn’t,” he accuses.

The phone drops, revealing Cas’ face with his hair spiked up in all directions - and a small thrill travels down Dean’s spine when he remembers why - and his eyebrows pinched together, blue eyes wide and confused.

“But you told me to.”

Dean snorts and stretches, rolling his shoulders back and twisting his neck from side to side, wincing when he hears it pop. “You know damn well it was an expression, Cas, don’t you pull that ‘naïve angel’ crap with me. Who taught you how to play poker? I know all your tells, babe.” He levers himself up onto an elbow and wiggles his fingers in a ‘gimme’ gesture. “All right then, let’s see it.”

Cas glances down at the phone screen. His eyes go impossibly tender, expression melting like butter, like he’s staring at a friggin’ kitten or something. Not a good sign. 

Cas turns the phone so Dean can see, and yup, Dean was right. Sometimes he hates when he’s right.

The picture is zoomed in on Dean’s face, lighting soft. His head is turned slightly into the pillow, eyes still closed, and his eyelashes are resting against his cheeks. There’s a faint, drowsy smile quirking up the corners of his lips. His hair is sleep-mussed, his face is open and relaxed - no tight lines at the corners of his eyes, no tension in his jaw. Dean never sees that face when he looks in the mirror.  

It’s a great picture, really. He looks content, and peaceful, and downright friggin’ sweet.

“Delete it,” he demands.

Cas looks affronted. “What? Why?”

“Because I’ve got a reputation to uphold, that’s why.”

Cas’ lips purse, just slightly, in a pout. “No one’s going to see it but me, Dean.”

“Uh huh,” Dean says, unconvinced. “That’s what you said about that panty picture, and what happened with that?”

“…Sam borrowed my phone,” Castiel mutters, avoiding his eyes.

“That’s right, Sam borrowed your phone and found the picture,” Dean corrects him sternly. “He hasn’t looked me in the eye in two weeks!”

“But I’ll be more careful this time,” Castiel insists.

“No. Delete it, Cas.”

“But Dean –“

Delete it, Cas.”

There’s a pause, a moment where Dean can clearly see Castiel deliberating, his expression torn and indecisive. Then Castiel’s face clears and he meets Dean’s eyes, mouth firming into a stubborn line.


“Cas,” Dean warns. “Delete it, or I will.”

Castiel’s eyes narrow, and Dean can see the challenge in them, clear as day: ‘I’d like to see you try.’

He snatches for the phone, but Cas, damn him, is just a little bit faster, putting those unfair angel reflexes to good use. He jerks the phone away and stretches his arm high above their heads, holding it out of Dean’s reach, but Dean kicks off the blanket and clambers on top of him, grasping for the phone.

“Give it to me!” he yells.

“No! Dean!” Castiel arches his back, trying to throw Dean off, and keeps the phone just out of reach of Dean’s fingertips. “Stop it!”

“Damn it, Cas! I mean it! Give…it…TO…ME!”


Just as Castiel manages to pull up a knee and wedge it between them, trying to push Dean back, he hears the unmistakable slap of giant, Godzilla-sized footsteps pounding down the hall towards their room. He freezes. Castiel’s meets his eyes, mirroring his own horror.

“Dean, Cas! What’s going o-aaaaAAH!”

The bedroom door slams shut just as quickly as it had swung open, flinging a brief waft of air across the room. Dean shivers automatically, goosebumps prickling across his bare skin - his totally bare naked nude fucking starkers skin  and oh, god, he’s basically straddling Cas with his bare ass presented to the world, and the blanket is all the way on the floor where he kicked it -

“You guys are the worst!” Sam yells through the door, voice ridiculously high. Dean would’ve laughed at it if he wasn’t too busy wanting to die. “I’m moving out!”

The footsteps stomp away, a little more forcefully than necessary (Dean’s pretty sure Sammy’s trying to make a point), and Dean sags against Cas’ leg. He rolls off and flops onto his back on the mattress, throwing an arm over his eyes and groaning. Here’s to another two weeks of not being able to look his brother in the eyes.

“Fine,” he mutters. “Keep the stupid picture. The damage is already done anyways, my reputation officially can’t get any worse.”

He feels Castiel roll towards him, mattress dipping, and a hand touches his arm and rubs warm lines up and down his skin. 

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Castiel soothes, tone innocent.

Dean lifts his arm just enough to crack an eye at Castiel and shoot him a withering glare. “I hate you.”

Castiel smiles, eyes crinkling in the way that makes Dean’s chest ache, and ducks his face close to Dean’s - so close, but not close enough, the barest inch between them. His breath washes sweetly over Dean’s lips. “No, you don’t.”

Surging up, Dean closes the distance and meets his lips. 

“No,” he agrees. “No, I don’t.”

It didn't happen at once ( a destiel short story)

It didn’t happen all at once. So one could never look back and say that, that moment was the turning point. In fact it happened slowly and gradually, the years of tension and unresolved questions and curious looks wrapped together, came forth and slowly uncoiled themselves. So it was never really a big surprise for anyone of them.

Sam was busy searching for some sort of solution for their current case. The trio had returned earlier that afternoon dirty and unsuccessful. Dean was annoyed, Castiel was frustraited and Sam was just tired.

The bunker was covered by a blanket of complete silence, when Sam got up from his seat to get some fresh air. These sort of cases where there wasn’t any sort of lead or the clues were jumbled up were the worse. They just involved days of untouched beds and bottles of alcohol.

Sam walked out the door, momentarily glancing at Dean and Cas who were with their own books in their laps, feet dangling off the couch. Sam couldn’t exactly pinpoint when he noticed the change in them, because, there had always been a certain type of closeness between them. Call it their time in hell together or the human-angel interspecies relationship or just the two them being them. But in the last couple of months, they had developed something new.

It’s when Sam started noticing these things that it made all the more sense.

How the touches had become frequent, the stares had become longer. How Dean just knew these little things about Cas, like how Cas developed a liking to take warm showers before bed (despite no need of having to take one) so Dean would make sure to make his showers were quicker so he wouldn’t finish all the hot water. Or how Cas liked his toast a little crispy from one side and soft from the other, so Dean would go through all the effort of grilling Cas’ toast on a frying pan to get them right. Or how after Cas commented about loving flowers as they passed by a woman’s garden during their hunt, so they would often find a new flower pot in the balcony of the bunker every two weeks. No one commented on these things, they just left them unsaid.

Though Cas returned all these gestures in his own way.

In the last few months Cas had figured out Dean’s taste in music and movies. So it was no surprise when they occasionally had a movie night (like an average domestic family) after a successful day of hunting (not like an average domestic family) and it would be Cas’ turn to chose the movie he would always pick one of Dean’s favourite movies. At first Sam thought that Cas did it entirely for Dean’s sake but then he realised that Cas actually enjoyed them. Cas would occasionally make references related to the movies or quote something sarcastic during the moments when he would be sassing Dean. Dean would stare, dumbstruck, while Sam would be laughing, clutching his stomach.

Cas had even started cooking a few things (learning simpler meals from his growing collection of cookbooks). But it was surprising for both of them the morning the two brothers came down to make breakfast and were greeted by the sweet smell of apple pie.

“You’re kidding” Dean had spoken, eyes wide and mouth agape.

Startled by the sudden presence Cas just held up the pan looking nervously at both of them “Pie?”

Dean had raced towards him, grabbing the hot pan, not even caring about it burning his fingers. Sam was sure he hadn’t seen Cas any more nervous in those few seconds Dean took to taste the pie.

“This is awesome” Dean had said before digging in for another bite. Dean wasn’t much for compliments but Sam had seen the pure delightful grin the comment had brought on Cas’ face.

Cas had started making pie every weekend from there on.

So it was safe to say that Sam wasn’t surprised when he came back an hour later and saw Castiel resting his head on Dean’s shoulder.

One of Dean’s arm was around Cas’ back and the other was in his lap holding the remote. The TV was turned on, one of the episode of whatever show they were catching up on. Sam didn’t miss the way Dean slowly turned his head and placed a gentle kiss on Cas’ head. He didn’t miss th way Cas laced his fingers with Dean in his lap, and he surely didn’t miss the content look on their faces as they tried to find happiness in what they could have in this life.

The End

(Please tell me how it is)

anyways i love how currently, at this very moment, sam is stealing a cookie off the baking tray where bucky left them to cool off and immediately burns his mouth but hides it because bucky walks in still wearing oven mitts to stall them out on a nicer plate to put them in the living room while telling sam to wait with eating the cookies because they’re still hot and sam nods like he doesn’t have the remains of a burning-hot chocolate chip cookie in his mouth

When you least expect it - Masterpost.

Pairing: SPN AU Mechanic!Dean x reader (lots of spn characters used)

Preview: Y/N Mills moves to a small town in Kansas with the help of her best friend from college Sam Winchester. She moves to get away from her controling, cheating ex boyfriend Lucifer but one day she mets Dean. Sometimes love happens When we least expect it.  

A/N: This story is an emotional rollercoaster. It gets pretty dark at some point but it is not just angsty. If is also fluffy and smutty. I hope you will like it. Bit’s of it is losely based on the *SPOILER ALERT* movie The disappearance of Eleanor Rigby but alot of it is also just out of my twisted imagination ;) Enjoy. 

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***


Part 1: Breaking Bad

Part 2: Better Than Yourself

Part 3: Whatever it is

Part 4: Wasted Light

Part 5: Falling Slowly 

Part 6: Family Matters 

Part 7 - No one like you

Part 8 - Perfect in your eyes 

Part 9 - Just one wish  

Part 10 - The love we shared (thanks to @blacktithe7 for betaing for me on this one!)

Part 11 - Wouldn’t it be nice  

Part 12 -  Better in time 

Part 13 - Before Sunset (again thanks to @blacktithe7 for helping me get Sammy right in this one!)

Part 14 - Let her go 

Part 15 - Something’s got to give 

Part 16 - Just give me a reason 

Part 17 - Bump in the road 

Part 18 - You and Me 

Part 19 - Wildflower 


“Thought you liked being carried?”  Sam chimed, grinning at his panicking brother.

Dean glared flustered at the ground, feeling entirely too weightless hefted up from the comfort of a solid flooring, “In theory, damn it - put me down!”  he hissed through grit teeth, because yeah, he might’ve said he’s turned on by the idea that Sam could maybe lift him - but he didn’t mean for the stupid little fuck of a brother to actually do it.

“Aw, Dean, you’re hurting my feelings,” Sam paused to pull puppy face number what the fuck ever, “You don’t trust me to keep you up?’  He ended with, and Dean clung tighter to Sam’s broad chest.

“I’m willing to admit that I trust no one to keep me up you over sized dick.”  Dean bit out, turning to glare at Sam and having his anger flush out to be replaced with pity because god damn was Sam good at the whole kicked puppy look.

“Dean…”  Sam said, soft, brow creased and his grip slackened, causing Dean to slip down a little and he glued himself to Sam’s body.

“Look, fine, I trust you al-fucking-right?”  Dean said, tone panicked and rushed and Sam’s grin brightened anew at that, his hold on Dean tightening and Dean blew a little sigh of relief.

After a moments pause, Dean stopped to stare at his bare feet, wiggling his toes with a terse look and realized that being picked up wasn’t so bad a thing, it was actually - well, freeing.  Especially for someone of his height.

Sam must have noticed some change on his face, because he leaned down a fraction and pressed a chaste kiss to Dean’s cheek, “Not so bad, right?”  Sam said, smile soft.

“Yeah,” Dean breathed, managing a half shrug from where he was posed, “Once I get over the whole fear factor, it’s kinda’ cool.”  And he was only half lying, because it was cool, but also really hot, and he wondered how long Sam could keep him suspended.

“Hey, Sam,” Dean began, looking to Sam who just now started to look a little tired from the effort of holding Dean up.


“Do ya’ think maybe you could,” Dean paused, bit his lip, continued, “carry me to the kitchen?  And the laundry room?  And the bedroom?  Actually - since you’re so cocky, carrying me all over shouldn’t be so hard, right?”  Dean asked, coy and grinning, and he could feel the tension running through Sam’s arms - big little brother was getting tired.

Sam looked taken back, a nervous look crossing his face before returning to the carefree grin, albeit accompanied by a small bead of sweat, “Well, yeah, uhm - of course.”  Sam answered.

“Cool,” Dean said, giving Sam an odd hug around the neck before leaning back, grinning when Sam grunted with the effort to keep him up and pat Sam’s tense shoulder, “Alright, lil’ bro, to the kitchen for some delicious in air action breakfast.”

Sam just chuffed a laugh in reply, before making the sure to be not-so-fun trek to the kitchen.


idk, some domestic!au fluff where dean let slip during the kanoodling that he gets off on the idea sam could carry him, so one morning when dean makes a prince charming joke bc of sams hair sam legit sweeps him off his feet, leaving dean to panic bc hey hes toll hold on his feet are meant to stay on solid ground kthnx

It was still jarring to see his brother like this. Calm and at peace, spread out on his stomach, curled underneath the sheets sound asleep.

Sam had gotten up a little over half and hour ago, untangling his body from Dean’s who was lightly snoring next to him and took his morning run. They needed this, this vacation where they turned off their phones and didn’t read the newspaper and allowed themselves to relax, unwind.

They found some resort along the beaches in Mexico, drove all day and all night to get there. That had been a week ago and Dean had taken to the lazy days and the domestic bliss almost as soon as his toes touched the sand.

Dean was still asleep by the time that Sam got back to the room and instead of heading straight to the shower, he stood in the doorway to the bedroom and watched his brother sleep.

Then Sam peeled his shirt from his body, wiping the sweat from his face before he quietly padded over to the bed, climbing upon it next to his brother.

Slowly he kissed up Dean’s back, along the freckled flesh and smirked when Dean stirred underneath him. Dean raised his head from the pillows and glanced over at Sam before burying his head back in the pillows.

“Sam, you’re sweaty.” Dean groaned, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Yeah? I just back from a run.” Sam answered, rolling closer to his brother, draping his body across his.

Dean scoffed. “We’re on vacation, Sam. You shouldn’t be running.” Another groan and Dean lifted his head to look at Sam again. He shifted under the weight of his brother. “Get of me. You stink.”

Sam chuckled, sucking a spot on the knob of his spine. “Maybe I’m trying to get you out of bed and into the shower with me.”

“I wanna sleep.” Dean retorted.

“You’ve been sleeping all morning, Dean.” Sam muttered as he dragged his lips back down Dean’s spine, pulling the blankets down with him to expose more and more naked, beautiful flesh. “C’mon, Dean.”

Dean lifted his head once more, turning to look at Sam and the playful glint in his eyes and the smirk on his lips and sighed before he kicked Sam off his body, pretending to look annoyed but Sam knew that the look of annoyance would quickly be replaced as soon as Sam got him underneath the spray of the shower and got down on his knees.

Mobile Masterlist

Ok, so my mobile masterlist decided to just stop properly working and messing up links and the likes. Updated it, but can’t reblog, so from now on this will be my mobile friendly masterlist.

You can find the desktop version here . (Not updated but will update soon)

Due to the length I’ve decided to put the masterlist below the “Keep Reading” since I got some complaints :)

Instead I’m just adding the amount of stories above for each part (not including every part of a multiparter so if there are five parts to a story it will still only count as one).

Story counts:

Dean x Reader: 54
Sam x Reader: 28
Cas x Reader: 17
Others x Reader: 22
Friendship and family fics: 21

Keep reading

The pan is already hot when he throws the bacon in. Using his left arm, not planning to lose his right to hot oil, he adds a chunk of butter and (a minute later) two eggs. Quickly, before it becomes solid, he sprinkles salt, pepper and parsley onto the omelet.

When Sam walks into the living room, it’s already on a plate and he can dive into his still steaming breakfast immediately. However, he stops himself and asks ‘Buck, did you even have breakfast?’

*flashback to Bucky shoving 5 crackers into his mouth at the same time while the bacon was cooking*



Sam Mikulak- Falling Down (in International Competition)

For @omgsamchap, and for the USAG selection committee who never learn