Supernatural x Reader

4. Coffee

You wake up, turning around in your bed softly. You slowly open your eyes to the other side of your bed, which as usual, was empty. You notice that Dean isn't asleep on the couch like he was before. He was terribly drunk last night and you and Sam had to carry him inside, Sam doing most of the work. You sit up slowly, stretching your arms above your bed, yawning. You look over to your left and squeeze your eyes shut and open them again in disbelief.

Sam and Dean are...sleeping together? What the hell?

You watch them for a while. Sam's arm was around Dean and they were...sleeping. Together. You thought this momentous occasion needed to be recorded so you get your phone from your bedside table and take a picture. You rise up and out of your bed slowly in order to get a better shot and notice that Dean's bare arm was wrapped around Sam's waist as well. You fight back a laugh as Dean scoots closer to Sam, fixing his arm around his waist and laying it limp there once more. You assume that Dean had walked over to sleep with him the night before, still drunk, and Sam had just let him. You take another picture and put your phone in the pocket of your pajama pants. Sam stirs a little and relaxes against Dean, causing you to giggle softly. You bite your finger in attempt to stop this, but Dean stirs awake now. His eyes flutter open slowly, he looks at Sam and smiles, closing his eyes once more. He then realizes what's going on and jumps awake, startling Sam. His eyes are wide open and he pushes Sam away so violently and quickly that he falls out of bed, emitting a loud thump as he hits the ground. He scrambles to his feet and runs to the bathroom, probably because he has to throw up all the vodka he drank last night. Sam looks around, a confused expression plastered on his face. His eyes wander slowly up your body, stopping at your chest for a moment, and then meet your eyes. You then realize that he was staring because your tank top is obviously very see through. He smiles at you, and you fluster in embarrassment as he grins anxiously and turns his head slightly to the right, hand partially over his face, diverting his glance from you awkwardly. You practically rush over to your suitcase, taking out your clothes for today which consisted of some more professional clothes. The boys had picked these clothes for you so that you would look like a FBI agent because today you needed to investigate a girl that disappeared yesterday. You begin changing openly, facing away from Sam, who had gotten up and was walking around behind you to get changed as well. You pull your tank top over your head and slip your bra on, then your white button down shirt. Over that you put on your black coat and button it, then pull your skirt up over your pants before dropping them and kicking them off with your feet. You pull on your nylons and then place your feet in your black high heels. You could barely walk in them so you stumbled a bit while walking over to the kitchen, past Sam. You could hear Dean throwing up and cringe at his pain. You knew how rough his hangover is and you know that he will most definitely be in a mood today. You practically trip and fall over when you pass by Sam but he stabilizes you with his arm. He has his suit on and he looks so handsome all dressed up. You always looked forward to FBI investigations.

"You got it?" He asks, smiling adorably.

"Of course I do, I'm a professional," You say, and cat walk away from Sam and to the fridge. You're not usually hungry in the mornings so you settle on a leftover sandwich you had from last night, which was really good. You begin cooking up some eggs, extra greasy for Dean's hangover and throw some toast in the toaster. You usually cook for the boys since you had previously had training in the culinary arts. Eggs and toast were definitely not something you had practiced in school, but it was simple and you knew how to make it a little fancier with just a few herbs and spices. You dashed them in the pan, multi tasking as you had learned. In just under 5 minutes you had created amazing looking and tasting eggs and toast, with perfect presentation and laid elegantly on two plates. While you were cooking, you occasionally had taken a bite out of the other half of your sandwich and finished off the last bite as you turned to give Sam his plate, just the way he liked his eggs. Sam's eyes filled with happiness as you didn't make eggs as often as you used to. He grinned up at you while taking the plate.