Could you do one where you’re dating Sam Winchester and he falls asleep on you while you’re reading and Dean comes in secretly thinking it’s adorable? tysm xxx
Stretching, I walked down the pavement of a small town, a bag of 5-hour energy bottles, beer, and miscellaneous snacks. The soles of my feet were nearly frigid from walking in the stale November chill, as the closest 7′11 was nearly a mile from the motel and Dean needed Baby to go around questioning suspects. The boys and I had started a hunt about two weeks ago when two teens had literally been turned inside out near a lake in Colorado and we had packed our bags and drove out into the impala as per usual. It wasn’t going well. The backwater town where the poor kids died was possibly the shadiest town I’ve ever seen. We didn’t know whether to investigate the ageing white supremacist, the crack addict who was addicted to the occult, the meth addict who was addicted to god, the eleven year old with a gun in her backpack, or even the old piano teacher who had a fridge filled with nothing but individual plastic containers of meat… We had no place to start.
So we decided to lay low for a bit and get some research done, but even that was exhausting. The town of Redmund, Colorado was so small and unknown that there weren’t any reliable websites dedicated to it online so Sam and I had to scour the library for the death certificates that would somehow match having your insides become your outsides. We found the certificates all right. Hundreds of them. And we had to go through each and every one to try and find somebody who matched the criteria.
Shaking my head, I fiddled with the keys before pushing open the door, expecting to find Sam sound asleep. Instead I saw him in the same place I saw him last, sitting in the chair, reading a certificate, with piles and piles of paper behind him.
“Jesus Christ, Sam,” I said, throwing the groceries on the bed, “did you get any sleep last night?” He scoffed, and I only then saw the shadowy bags under his eyes. “Does it look like I got any sleep, Y/N?”
I frowned, “Sam, you can’t keep pulling all nighters, it’s not healthy.”
“It’s fine, Y/N, I’m…” he paused his sentence to yawn, “…I’m fine.”
I snatched the certificate away from him, ignoring his protests, and quickly read it through.
Certificate No. 29485 Name of Deceased: Natalia Salchov Usual Residence: State: Colorado | Town: Redmund Single, Married, or Divorced: Single Date of Birth of Decedent: April 29th 1987 Age: yrs:____ mon:____ day:____ (If less than 1 day) hrs: 7 mins: 23
“Sam, you need to go to bed,” he shook his head, grabbing the paper from me and setting it back down on the pile next to his chair, “Sam, I’m serious-”
“-If I stop then what’s gonna stop this thing from killing again? Who’s it gonna be next? Is it going to be another teen? Another innocent kid with a life they could’ve lived? No, Y/N. I’ll sleep when this hunt is over and no sooner.”
I sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing with him at this point. Sam Winchester may be the world’s leading expert on the value of sleep but I knew he was dead set on it.
“Fine, then I’m helping too,” I smiled, pulling up in the chair beside him and taking a paper off the heap. Sam opened his mouth to complain but eventually kept quiet, and went back to work.
“Thanks… For helping me with this hunt…” He said slowly, a smile tugging at his split lips.
I grinned in return, “No problem, Sammy.”
As time went on and I read through more and more certificates I began to notice Sam’s eyes drooping steadily, head head nodding more and more, and for almost two minutes he didn’t move, until eventually he literally collapsed, turned over and fell on his side, crumbling into my shoulder. I swayed but didn’t move, thanking the stars that the hotel was too cheap to afford chairs with armrests. I had to hold in my laugh as Sam subconsciously shifted in his sleep, curling up beside me and wrapping his arms around my waist.
Sam looked so different when he slept. Normally he looked like a weary hunter desperate to finish a hunt but instead he looked more like a teenager studying for finals, living off ramen noodles and monster energy drinks. I brushed a stray strand of hair out of his eyes and tucked it behind his ear before going back to flipping through certificates.
After almost an hour of browsing through drownings, heart attacks, and old age, Dean walked in, a confident smile on his face.
“Hey guys, how’s it-” I cut him off instantly, shushing him quiet so he didn’t wake up Sam, who briefly stirred at the noise, but still held on to sleep.
Dean looked puzzled for a second before smiling, all jovial and happy, at the scene he walked into. “So, how late did he stay up this time?” He said again, only this time quieter.
“All night,” I replied fondly, smiling at the tickle his breathing left on my arm.
He shook his head, “Damn, no wonder he’s passed out on you like that,” Dean said with a sympathetic shine in his grass green eyes, “he’s been doing that a lot lately.”
“Yeah,” I murmured sadly, “I hope he snaps out of it soon.”
Dean’s smile was replaced with a smirk as he took out his phone, circling the two of us while snapping several pictures, “Oh, he is going to kill me for this later, he looks like a fucking bear.”
I glared daggers at the older brother, “You keep taking pictures, Winchester, and Sam will be the least of your problems.”
He laughed quietly and unknown to me, he secretly thought that it was sweet. The sight of Sam collapsed on my shoulder and snoozing quietly as I flipped through gruesome death certificates. It was about as perfect it could get for a hunter.
Okay this was actually really cute to write~ Thanks anon!
I’m gonna get started on that Helpless hamilton fic for Sam now. Geez, everybody loves Sammy, huh?
I’ll see y’all later and just remember, requests are ALWAYS open and I do ship requests too. This blog also isn’t just for SPN but that is it’s main focus but I’ll do mainly anything. Yuri on Ice, Attack on Titan, Doctor Who, Sherlock, hell I’m planning out a spideypool fic too so I’m down with anything!
Also, if you want a spot on the permanent tag list, just ask! I don’t have enough people on it -_-
One of Dean’s biggest weaknesses is having his hair touched. He loves feeling your fingers massaging his scalp. Not only does it send pleasant tingles down his spine, but it also helps him relax and eventually drift off into a much needed sleep.
Its not a secret that Sam loves having his luscious hair played with (after all, he keeps his hair long for a reason). After a long day, he can’t wait to have your hands run across his scalp and along his hazel locks.
Even though Cas doesn’t sleep, he admires the way you rest at night. Your face looks so peaceful and relaxed. He likes to move the hair out of your face and admire your sleeping features while gently massaging your head with his rough fingers.
Imagine: Returning from Hell with no idea how and the first thing you do is find Dean because he needs to know you’re alive.
Hell is not fun. Just so you know. So to keep yourself sane, you need something to hold onto. And you held onto the fact that you couldn’t go without seeing Dean one last time. But now you’re standing in front of what supposedly is where the Winchester brothers live. And you’re scared to go in because it’s been two years. Dean would have every right to move on, but you’re hoping he hasn’t.
“Here goes nothing,” you whisper entering the bunker. They really should lock up better.
“Hello,” you call out and seconds later you’re staring at a gun. You can hear his heavy breathing and you know he’s hurting.
“Put the gun down,” you whisper feeling your throat close up. Your eyes sting but you refuse to cry.
“Baby, put the gun down. It’s me,” you repeat knowing that he can’t take any chances. You might as well be a demon now, but you’re not.
“Remember that time when the storm cut off electricity and we filled the whole room with candles? And you fixed up a picnic inside. It was like we were the only two people alive,” you say and finally he lowers the gun.
“How’s this possible?” he asks in a shaky voice. A single tear escapes the corner of his eye, but he tries hard to not show his emotions.
“I don’t know. I have no idea why I’m not still in Hell, but I’m here now,” you say taking his hands in yours, “and I’ve missed you like crazy.” He chuckles softly pulling you in for a tight hug. For a long time you just stand there.
Why? Because they don't have costumes? Or popularity? Or double lives? Or superpowers? They don't need it. Two brothers defying destiny and saving the world by sacrificing what they care about most. And for me that's the only one real definition of a hero.
Warnings: Language, Kissing, Making Out, Dry Humping, Drinking, Fluff, Oral (Reader Receiving), Fingering, Masturbation (Female), Sex Dream, Use Of Sex Toys
Words (With Lyrics): 1,820+
Summary: You and Dean finally confessed your feelings for each other after years of denying them and pushing them away. Neither of you are good at this sort of thing but you’re willing to try for each other. So what comes next for the two of you?
A/N: I’ll be adding warnings and characters as the series progresses. If you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list please let me know. Feedback is -as always- highly welcomed and greatly appreciated! This series is inspired by Ed Sheeran’s - Shape Of You