30+ Days of Team Free Will Imagines

Day Twenty-Six

Prompt: Imagine coming home on a rainy day and being all wet, and even after you come out of the shower being freezing and Sam offers to cuddle with you + Imagine having a cuddles urge and before you start crying because nobody loves you, Sam covers you with his arms and lets you sleep on his chest.

Tags: Female!Reader, Reader/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Castiel

......

It's raining.

Actually, "raining" really isn't the right word. It's dumping outside. You immediately regret not taking the Impala when you leave the Wendy's with your bags of food. You desperately stuff the bags inside your jacket and decide to make a run for it.

By the time you get back to the motel, you're pretty much soaked, but the food is dry. You burst into Dean and Cas' room- two beds, as if you don't know that only one is being slept in- and slam the door behind you.

"Raining, huh?" Dean says, watching with a lifted eyebrow as you toss the food onto the table and start stripping off your outer layers.

"Shut up," you say, throwing your jacket in the general direction of the coat hook. "I'm getting in the shower. One of those Baconators is mine."

The shower isn't as hot as you would like, due to the fact that this isn't the best motel in town.

You're still cold when you get out. You immediately see that Sam, being the thoughtful boyfriend he is, has laid your wet clothes over the ancient radiator in your room in an attempt to dry them fast. Sadly, they're still wet and that was your warmest outfit.

You skip over your duffel in favor of Sam's. He always packs at least one pair of sweats or pajama pants, as well as an extra flannel and boxers, because he knows you'll "borrow" them at some point. Tonight's outfit consists of bright blue fuzzy socks, a pair of Sam's boxers, black sweatpants that say "Stanford" down one leg in crimson letters, one of your t-shirts, and a dark red plaid flannel.

Once you're dressed, you head next door. The boys are already most of the way through their food. Dean passes you a bag and you join Sam on the couch to watch Gilligan's Island reruns. You lean against the arm of the couch and tuck your toes under Sam's thigh to warm them.

By the time the episode is over, your food is gone and you're still cold. The boys have moved on to research for the case- most likely a ghost. You desperately want to cuddle up next to your boyfriend, both to warm up and to be close to him. It's been so busy these last few weeks that your relationship has kind of been put on the back burner. You're going through some serious cuddle withdrawals, but Sam is busy and he needs his full focus to be on the case.

You help with research for a while, but you're too tired and cold to be of much use. Not to mention you feel like crap run over by a truck emotionally. You quietly excuse yourself and go back to the room you're sharing with Sam.

You crawl beneath the covers still fully dressed and curl up, dragging Sam's pillow over so you can bury your face in it. His familiar scent fills your nose. Usually it would be comforting, but tonight it just makes you feel worse. You shove the pillow away and roll so your back is to Sam's spot. You sniff softly and try not to cry.

X X X X X X

You've been off ever since you got out of the shower, but as soon as you excuse yourself from helping with research, Sam knows something is wrong.

He wraps up what he's doing and excuses himself as well. He shuts the door dividing the rooms quietly, in case you're already asleep, and strips off his over shirt and jeans. He brushes and flosses, and then slides into bed beside your still for.

At first he thinks you're sleep. Then he hears a soft sniffle and knows otherwise. He suddenly realizes you and him haven't had a whole lot of physical contact in the last few weeks, something he strives to avoid. You crave physical contact of every kind, soaking it up like sunlight, and he was a crappy boyfriend who let you go without.

Sam rolls and scoots closer, reaching one arm out to loop around your waist and pull you to him. You come willingly and even twist to lay your head on his chest. You're shivering a little and your eyes are wet, but no tears yet.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he murmurs, laying one giant hand on your head. "I neglected you. I promise, it won't happen again. There will be cuddling and hand-holding and kissing all day, every day. And to make this up to you, we're having a Lord of the Rings marathon when we get home. Just us."

"Okay," you sigh, already half asleep.

"Sleep well, darling. I love you."