SupernaturalxReader

Pajamas (Sam fluff)

this is a real freaking problem and you can't convince me otherwise. fyi, in this one, Sam is your boyfriend, but you could call it Winchester because it's a lot about the trio.

"No. No! No matter how many times I have slept in this car, how many times we have slept in this car - I won't do it. I will not. I will not wear jeans to sleep. Never," you crossed your arms, fighting Sam and Dean stubbornly as the three of you stood on the side of an old and empty dirt road, the boys leaning against the impala as you faced them. Sam and Dean looked at you disapprovingly, just as stubborn as you.

"(Y/n), please. Three of us in the car is already a tight fit with you and me together in the back. Please, just wear your pants. You know I'm not comfortable with..." Sam pleaded, trailing off to shoot a look at his brother, clearly meaning he didn't want Dean to see you in your underwear. You three had this problem every time you went on the road, but usually in motels with blankets it wasn't such a big deal. But for whatever reason, sleeping in the impala with you pantless caused them great pain.

"Cmon, Sammy, seriously? We've been over this. I'm not interested in looking at my little brother's partner. That's just gross. Thinking of you two..." Dean shivered, creeping himself out with some mental picture. You didn't care if he would be looking at you or not - you just weren't wearing jeans.

"Sorry, Sam, but still, it's a no! Jeans are incredibly uncomfortable to sleep in. You two are lucky I don't get on you for sleeping like that! Really! I know you wake up with imprints of the seems and shit on your legs. I know you do. Denim isn't sleepwear, it's just not," you stand your ground, still in disbelief that they can stand to sleep in their jeans.

"What do you two know, anyways? You freaking sleep with your shoes on sometimes. I don't care what kind of hunter life we live, there's no way in heaven or hell you will catch me wearing socks, let alone shoes, to bed. No. Way," you continue on, growing more and more irritated. Sam looks increasingly uncomfortable, afraid he's going to lose this battle again, and Dean looks just as annoyed as you feel.

"Fuck this. Fuck you two and your couple shit. Get back in the car. Both of you," Dean demands, sliding into the driver's seat himself and slamming the door behind him. You and Sam give each other surprised looks, but know you have no choice but to get in the car, so you both reluctantly scoot into the backseat.

"Uh, what are we doing, Dean?" Sam cautiously tries, but you can see in the rear view mirror that Dean's eyes are set dead ahead on the evening sky as the car starts up with a purr. Dean mumbled and grumbled to himself, but all you could make out were a couple profanities. Looking to Sam again, you both just sat back and went on being confused. Dean drove with a lead foot, and after the umpteenth sharp, jarring turn, you decide to take a stab at figuring out what's happening.

"Okay, Dean, care to share with the class? Where the hell are we going? And is it really this urgent, buddy?" you lean forward, but Dean just grips onto the wheel with white knuckles and doesn't slow down one bit.

"We," he says through gritted teeth, "are going to a clothing store. And we," there's another pause as he makes an even more aggressive turn, finally back on a main road, "are going to buy you some fucking pajamas. Happy now? You won't be in jeans, and little Sammy's insecurities will be at rest knowing his big brother can't steal you away. Not that your pants have anything to do with my ability to do that, but-"

"Dean!" Sam cuts off his still uptight older brother, and you're glad for it - you don't want to hear the end of that sentence. You sit back in your seat, shrugging at Sam. He gives you the same look, and you let Dean do his angry driving.

Finally entering the first thrift store you came across, Dean marches to find a section with pajama pants that would fit you. You and Sam stroll around a little, with him of course eventually gravitating to a rack of flannels. You can't help but laugh, resting year head against his shoulder, your arms wrapping around his waist from behind as he sorts through different shirts.

"Do we really need more of these, babe?" you chuckle again, and you feel him smiling too.

"Of course we do. We always need more. Bloodstains are one thing, you know, but we both know I suck at sewing shirts back together," you both laugh, pictures of his last attempt in your mind. He was right - he couldn't sew for shit, always churning out uneven and bulky stitches that could barely hold anything together at all.

"You'd think you'd be okay at it, considering all the cuts of ours you've stitched up. But no, you really... you really fucking suck, honey," you can't help but laugh even harder, and Sam swats and hits your arm.

"Hey! No fair, only I get to make fun of myself. You-" Sam doesn't get to finish as a wad of black fabric hits him in the face. Dean had catapulted a pair of sweatpants over the rack, which might've been impressive if your massive boyfriend wasn't such an easy target.

You let go of him as he bends down to pick them up, and stepping to his side, he presents them to you. You nod approvingly at the plain black and the softness of them. Taking them from Sam, you hold them up to your waist to check the fit, and despite seeming a little long, they look good.

"How exactly did you pick the perfect size for me, Dean?" You question as Dean comes to join you two. At your words, Sam suddenly gets a concerned look on his face as he studied how well the pants do appear to be matched to you.

"Witchcraft," is all he replies in a monotone voice. "Can we go now?" you giggle as Sam still just examines the pants when you hand them back to him, and you grab the biggest flannel you can see off the hanger for your moose.

"Cmon, Sammy. Let's go," you urge. Dean sighs in relief and turns towards checkout as you drag Sam with you. He trots along, still mumbling about how Dean did it as you continue to softly laugh at him.

That night, after you're changed into your new sweatpants and Dean almost instantly falls deeply asleep, Sam whispers something that pulls you out of your doze extremely quickly.

"You know, I think you're right. These jeans aren't very comfy. Take them off for me?"

-

if you sleep with jeans on, I just want you to know my mom is coming after you to scold you like crazy. watch out and get real pajamas kids

also, I'm not sure if anyone has noticed but I'm trying to punch out a lot of stories at once so I can establish this book. but honestly, I'm having a lot of fun. so as long as writers block doesn't hit me anytime soon, I will try to update a minimum of once a week once I get settled. but for now I'm just publishing as quickly as I can while still doing my best, so every once in a while that means multiple per day (like today). real talk: I really do enjoy what I do here. I won't lie, these are usually written tailored to what I find cute and what I want to read. they're xReader but also xWriter, you know? anyways, love you guys. see ya soon!