title says it all. I am no longer taking requests, sorry! enjoy!!
**these are very old and totally suck forgive me for the really cliché ones this was my first book alright
instead of the normal story that's all set in one scenario, this is going to be bits and pieces of fluff that go through a day spent with Sam at the bunker between jobs. enjoy!
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6:30 "Good god Sam, I told you to turn the alarm down on days off! We don't have any work today, I want to sleep in!" you try to shout at Sam, but it's muffled by your sore and sleepy throat. He's already sitting up on the side of the bed, and you roll on your side so you can playfully punch his bare back now facing you.
"C'mon! You would've been woken up when I got up anyways! Practically had to crawl out of your grip on me," he shoots back, turning to face you and stopping your attack. He grasps onto your wrist to do so, and you can't help but smile at his familiar touch, and he does the same. Last night had been wild, and looking at him now, shirtless with messy hair and holding onto your wrist, you get a good feeling about how the day is going to go.
"Y'know, I was going to go for a run. But with you smiling like that, I'm thinking my energy might be best used on other activities," he yanks you closer by your arm, and you let out a yelp, but don't stop smirking at him as he leans over you now. "Would you agree?"
7:59 "We should get up," you whisper, tracing a finger along Sam's collarbone and tattoo that still have the shine of sweat lingering on them.
"We should very much not get up," he replies distantly, eyes blissfully closed as he lays on his back, letting you prop yourself up on his side.
"We should get up." you elicit a groan of frustration from him by repeating yourself, and he protestingly opens his eyes to look at you.
"What happened to sleeping in and not working?" he pleads, and you shrug.
"What can I say? You really woke me up," you giggle at him and he shakes his head with a small but prideful smile.
"Fine. We can get up. But you're making me breakfast."
9:23 "What is all the racket about in h. . . God, what is that smell? What did you kill?" Dean makes a sour face as he enters the kitchen, and you and Sam can't stop yourselves but to laugh even harder as he warily enters. While Dean tightens his robe around him in discomfort, you two continue to scrape the charred and dead remains of what had once been a waffle into the trash.
You had put the last bit of batter into the waffle iron and let it sit to cook while you ate with Sam, but got caught up and totally forgot about actually taking it out until it was already destined to be burnt to a crisp. Upon returning to the kitchen in a frantic manner to check on it, you and Sam both realized it was beyond salvation in a heartbeat, getting a strong whiff of the burning in the air. You quickly unplugged the waffle iron and held your breath as you carefully opened it up to see the still-sizzling black mess. Sam couldn't contain his giggles, and soon enough, the two of you were practically rolling on the floor.
