How Sam, Dean and Castiel feel about you being short....
Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester & Castiel x Short!GN!Reader
Summary: How Sam, Dean and Cas feel about you being short.
Warnings: short jokes, so, so many short jokes, Dean's annoying, Sam is lovesick and Cas is perfection, fluff, sweetness, suggestive
Word Count: 1.6k
Requested by @dontlistentodaisy
A/n: Honestly thinking about takin' on Pinterest lol bc apart from the height for this one, I try to keep my headers ambiguous on race, hair colour, weight, etc. but it was almost all white girls with long hair! I couldn't find anything else for the life of me so I made everything grayscale to give it a sense of ambiguity, sorry! There's no descriptions of reader apart from being short though, it's just the images I could find. It's meant to be gender neutral, so please let me know if it isn't in some way. And so sorry if anything here is wrong or annoying, I put my mooseself in Sam's shoes lol so we'll see how it goes! While writing this I had a 5'1!Reader in mind, if you'd like to read more with a reader this height, check out "Is that my hoodie?" - "…no?" with Sam, that's right @saltnburnbaby 5'1!Reader is back! If you like this and would like to see any other characters with a short reader or a tall version of this, please send in an ask! Enjoy reading!
·♥✧ Dean wears the biggest shit eating grin whenever you're real close and you have to crane your neck up to talk to him.
·♥✧ He's such a little shit about it, calls you "Short stack" or "Shorty" and anything in between. Your personal favourite has to be "Shortcake"
·♥✧ You'll throw your arms up around his neck to pull him down into a kiss, on your tip-toes as well, and he'll laugh, like a lot, smiling into the kiss if you ever get there.
·♥✧ When you're standing side by side, he rests his elbow on your head. He'll be so casual about it too. You'll be having a conversation with Sam and Cas and suddenly, you're a human arm rest. He very carefully placed a beer on your head once and grinned like he'd performed a magic trick when it stayed in place. The only thing he heard from you was a very controlled and low "Get it off, now" that scared the pants off him, more than any monster ever had.
·♥✧ He loves picking you up and putting you on bench tops. You're like his perfect little table ornament, though you're not particularly fond of that nickname. It happens more often than not when you're in the kitchen. You love watching him cook, getting little taste tests every now and then. The first time it happened, you were just a little bit in the way when he was looking for the pepper, so he picked you up and popped you onto the countertop. When he moved back, you tugged him close, standing between your legs. You gripped his shirt, pulling him down, kissing him fiercely. That night, while his soup boiled over, he found out that making out with you on the kitchen counter was one of his new famourite pass times.
And not one fo Sam's.
·♥✧ He messes up your hair too, scruffing his hand on the top of your head as if he were patting a dog. Once he did it right after you'd spent hours on your hair.
"Dean! I could leave you y'know!"
"Don't think your little legs could carry you far enough away"
Yeah, he ended up regretting that one.
·♥✧ The first time you came out wearing one of his flannels, it floored him. He was too stunned to speak. You looked perfect.
That sweetness soon wore off.
Since then, he makes fun of you, like always, but under it all he's amazed you want him, let alone the fact that you actively seek out his clothes so it feels like he's always around.
That being said, he tied you up in his shirt like a straight jacket once.
TO BE FAIR, it was an old, beaten, long sleeve. Long long sleeves actually. The material had stretched over time so now the sleeves even dragged out a little on him. but on you? Damn. They hung over your hands and when you had your back turned, deep in your conversation with Sam, Dean stalked towards you, pouncing like a tiger or a really annoying boyfriend. He grabbed the sleeves and held them tight as he tied them around your back. You squirmed the entire time, thrashing around in his hold. When he finally let you go, you spun around, staring him down like a wild animal. He immediately had an "oh shit" moment in his peanut sized brain, realizing his best course of action was to run. You tried to free your arms to no avail before you gestured to Sam behind your back "Please?" your tone was anything but sweet. "Sure, I've had a brother for long enough, go nuts" he replied, untying you and watching you chase after Dean.
·♥✧ Sam's used to looking down at people, granted, you're a little further down than most, but that doesn't change much.
·♥✧ He makes himself smaller. He always has but he does it more around you. He slumps down, shoulders pushed lower.
·♥✧ Whenever you're sad or you look a little off, he crouches down, even kneels sometimes so he's lower than you and you're forced to look into his eyes. He takes your face in his big hands and asks what's wrong. If you insist that it's nothing, he brings your face closer, peppering little kisses all over. Your forehead, nose, cheeks, eyelids, all until you're a giggling mess.
·♥✧ If you're being annoying on purpose, sometimes you do just to make him laugh, he picks you up. Once he held you up under the arms like a cat and you had the most adorably grumpy look on your face. Most of the time, he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, holding your flailing legs with one hand, the other place firmly on your ass, every now and then giving a warming squeeze when you squirm too much. Some days this leads to him throwing you down and you waste the night away with each other, some days you manage to turn around and sit very precariously on his shoulder like a parrot, it's a toss up. You slip off after a few seconds but it's funny for the moment, so much so that by the time Halloween rolls around, you may or may not have a big box of feathers dropped off at your door. But that's for another day.
·♥✧ Whenever you walk up to him and hug him, he always lets out a breath of a laugh. You've given up trying to reach up unless it's for a kiss, so you just wrap your arms around his torso, low enough that if he laughs a little too much, you can give his ass a little tap, which usually just results in more laughter.
·♥✧ When you do want a kiss, you just call him now most of the time. He wears his best big, lovesick grin and comes down to meet your patiently waiting lips. He smiles into the kiss 90% of the time, and you smile back.
·♥✧ He just about melts the first time you steal one of his hoodies. It's his best and oldest one of course, from Stanford. It engulfs you and he doesn't know whether to laugh or hold you close and never let go. He settles for both, chuckling and pulling you into his arms. He hoists you up so you're eye to eye and he kisses you, short and sweet, just like you.
·♥✧ Dear, sweet Castiel is just adorable. He doesn't really take much notice of it until the first time you hug him. He barely made it out of an angelic war of a fight and you wrapped your arms around his middle tight, burying your face into his trench coat. He placed a hand on your head, patting you like he'd seen some humans do before.
·♥✧ After that, whenever he could sense you wanted a hug (he rarely knew when but he tried) he would lower himself, bending down to hug you awkwardly but sweetly.
·♥✧ Cas is an Angel so no matter your size he could pick you up, though he does find your smaller packaging more convenient. He only ever picks you up when necessary, like if you're hurt, sleeping in the car, or ready to kill Dean for making another short joke.
·♥✧ You were staying up late in the library going over lore one night with Cas when you started to feel a bit sleepy. He had discarded his signature trench coat, even the blazer and tie too. After you got over oogling him - because without the whole get up, especially the coat, he did seem naked - you started to drift off. He noticed, he also noticed the slight tremble around your shoulders, so he left without a word, off to get you your favourite fuzzy socks and blanket. But when he returned, you had laid claim on the coat, swimming in tan. He smiled, seeing how sweet you looked tugging the coat up under your chin, nuzzling into the faint earthy scent he left behind. He always smelled like the Earth did just after it rained and that was one of your favourite things about him. He knew that humans were delicate creatures and that if you didn't sleep in a bed, your back would ache tomorrow, so he gently scooped you up in his arms, carrying you to your room. When he laid you down in your bed, he left the coat surrounding you, pressing a gentle kiss to the middle of your forehead, his voice soft and low.
"Sleep well, little love, I'll watch over you"
·♥✧ And if you're ever feeling insecure about your height, Cas provides the perfect comfort. He holds you close to his chest, usually sitting or laying down at the time, tucking your head under his chin. He reassures you, tone constant but gentle.
"You remind me of my Grace some days"
"Your Grace? Really? I'm Angel magic to you?"
"Not exactly" He lets out the slightest smile "My Grace is miniscule physically, only big enough to fill a small vial. But the power inside it is unparalelled by any human creations. Its vastness stretches beyond the cosmos, it just seems small on the outside. Like you. Inside, your feelings, your soul, who you are, it towers over all else"
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Author’s Note: I am a 5’1 human – I have thought about this I wanna share this thoughts with you I hope you don't mind
Warning: There is no warnings than mega fluffs in this
Credit: If there is someone made a similar post like this please don’t hesitate to message me and let me know so I can credit them
Post format credit to: @runningincircl3s
5’1!Reader is so small that Noah can just carry you in one swift move and run across the house and his friends laughing at how easy you are being carried of course you are slapping his back not hard just enough to tell him to put you down but you love it and you are laughing at it
5’1!Reader doing grocery shopping, Noah pushes the cart while you walk, look and once it was in the top shelf you look at Noah pouting and crossing your arms Noah chuckles and gets the thing you are reaching for
5’1!Reader is talking to Noah, you are looking up and Noah looks down at you while leaning on the counter table with his other hand on his hip just casually talking to you
5'1!Reader stands beside Noah and you are just on his hip level so you poke his hips and he rubs the part that you poke while saying "Stop" with a chuckle meaning he is liking it
5’1!Reader is small that Noah needs to crouch down to kiss your forehead or your lips
Summary: Sam and Dean are out on a hunt and on your search for laundry, you find something old but not forgotten.
Warnings: very mild angst, fluff, a bit suggestive, that's about it
Word Count: 1.1k
A/n: Sorry this took so long! I've been working on it for a while but as someone who is Sam's height, I really had to use my imagination lol.
Sam and Dean were out on another hunt. You hated being away from Sam for so long, especially given what he was doing and the danger he was getting into. Of course you cared about Dean too, but not in the same way you cared about Sam. Not in the same way you loved him. You'd been in love with him for a while, you weren't sure how long. You found yourself thinking about him all the time, looking for him when you entered a room, smiling like an idiot every time he looked at you.
The only thing you didn't do?
Notice him doing the exact same.
But Dean did.
Don't worry though, he gave Sam plenty of shit for it.
All the time.
Like, all the time.
So much so that Sam was afraid Dean would make a joke in front of you, outing his feelings for you and totally destroying your relationship. Which was exactly what Dean wanted to do, only he knew you felt the same.
Sam insisted you stay home. This time he actually did have a good excuse since you were still recovering from a Wendigo that got just a little too close. But most days? Most days he'd make up some crap about needing you to stay and research lore. He hated the idea of you getting hurt, he'd lost so many people already and he couldn't bear the thought of losing you too. So much so that from time to time he was a little over-protective. You knew that he cared about you, he wouldn't do all of this if he didn't, but it was frustrating as hell sometimes.
There was very little to do around the bunker when they didn't need you to figure out how to kill a Urayuli, some kind of Alaskan bigfoot with "no known way to kill it". They never ran into Winchesters before. Silver bullets, fire and a verse of Latin seemed to do the trick.
When they didn't need you for that, you spent most nights doing random things around the bunker to keep yourself busy. Like cleaning up after Dean in the kitchen, cleaning up after Dean in the library, cleaning up after Dean in his roo- Dean was messy, let's leave it at that.
You were roaming around the bunker picking up Dean's discarded flannels - seriously, how many flannels can one man own and why were they everywhere?! - when you noticed something. You were going through the boy's rooms for laundry, you had an armful of Dean's shirts when you noticed a worn out, old, red sleeve creeping out of one of Sam's drawers. You knew you shouldn't just go rifling through your best friend's drawers but it looked old, so it might be dirty - that sounds like a good enough lie, right?
You threw the mass of shirts onto the floor for a moment while you opened the drawer. You pulled out an at least ten year old hoodie, it was instantly recognizable. From that deep red to the large white lettering that read "Stanford". You could imagine a much younger Sam than the one you know now, spending late nights studying in his dorm room, in that hoodie. You could imagine those surprisingly cold for California winds whipping past him as he walked around the campus, forcing him to nuzzle further into the collar of it. You could imagine a version of Sam that was happier, calmer. A version that had to worry about essay finals, not the apocalypse, whichever one it was this week. You could imagine a version of Sam that felt safe and it broke your heart.
You weren't sure why but something compelled you to pull the hoodie on over your head. It just looked so warm and cozy and you couldn't help yourself, those bunker halls could get freezing cold.
You continued wandering around, doing whatever jobs you could find, until it started to get late. You made a simple, warm dinner and sat on the couch, flicking on whatever crappy reality TV show Cas left on last. You were barely able to make it through your dinner before you drifted off, cozy and comfy in the tent of a hoodie you wore.
Before you knew it, you heard the bunker door swing open and slam shut, two pairs of footsteps echoing down the stairs, mumbling about the dark, miserable weather. You sat up, ready to greet your friends when you glanced down, remembering that you still wore Sam's hoodie. You scrambled to get up, tripping over the blanket on your lap. You recovered - barely - and stood up just as they walked in. Dean greeted you briefly before throwing his blood-covered flannel somewhere near his room as he headed for the shower - so that's how they got everywhere.
Sam stood frozen in front of you for a moment, looking you up and down, looking at the hoodie. His hoodie. His hoodie that fell over you, engulfing you in a faded red. His hoodie with the too-long sleeves that more than covered your hands. His hoodie that was too long and nearly went past your knees. His hoodie that just looked too good on you.
He opened and closed his mouth, trying to say something "Is that my hoodie?"
"…no?" You offered meekly.
He took a few long strides until he was standing just inches from you "Really?" His fingers found the loose material around your wrist "Because it sure looks like one of mine"
"Uh, n-no. I um, I-" You exhaled "Okay fine, it's yours. I can't lie to those big stupid puppy eyes" You huffed.
His eyes raked over you again, something different in them this time, something more "Looks good on you"
"Really?"
"Yeah" He leaned in close, breath fanning hot across your skin "But I think it'd look better off"
You felt your heart beat in your ears.
"Y'mean that?" You asked, a little shaky.
"More than anything"
You leaned up, going up on your tip-toes to loop your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss. He fell into you, lips crashing against yours. His arms flew to your waist, pulling you up to meet him. His hands slipped around your thighs, lifting you off the ground with ease. With over a foot between you, it was the only logical option. Yep, totally logical, only that. Your legs locked around his waist as he carried you down the hall, lips never leaving each other.
Dean ducked out of his room after grabbing his towel, noticing the two of you, smirking and muttering to himself as he made his way to the bathroom.
