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"Come on, Sam," you laughed, wrapping an arm around his back and did your best to steady his towering frame.
"Where we going?" he asked, his words slurring together a little comically.
"You're going to bed. Come on," you said. "You had too much to drink at the bar." At that moment, you paused and thought about how unusual that was, for Sam to drink enough that he was thoroughly drunk. "Why did you drink so much tonight, anyway?" you asked, grabbing the room key out of his jacket pocket and quickly unlocking the door.
He stood still, his shoulders more slumped than usual, and gave you a long look as you held the door open for him. "Sam?" Your eyebrow quirked up in a question.
He smiled at you, a dopey drunk, sleepy smile. You grinned back. "You're beautiful," he said all of a sudden, wavering a little where he stood.
You blushed furiously and laughed it off, rushing over to steady him again and usher him inside. "You're drunk," you asserted. "Come on. Let's get you inside." He obeyed your shepherding and flopped down onto the bed on his back, his eyes closed and his legs sticking out over the side of the bed, boots still on,
"I am drunk," he mused. His eyes opened and he looked down at you as you tugged his shoes off. "And in the morning when I'm sober—" he sighed and watched you straighten up, looking down at him now with a curious expression. "—when I'm sober you'll still be beautiful. I jus' won't be brave enough to tell you..." His words were slurred and sleepy, and by the end his eyes had closed again and he shifted a little to make himself more comfortable on the mattress.
You were left staring at him, your heart fit to burst as it raced in your chest, wondering if it was possible you'd heard him right at all.
Some festive Mooseley art for @beingcouy ‘s new fluffy fic Merry Moose-Haps! ♥ In which Sam gets drunk, forgets which motel he’s staying at, and Crowley hauls him around half the day trying to figure out where to bring him back to (and they get into some holiday festive antics along the way!)
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A/N: Listened to some Demi on the way home from work and...sorry not sorry...
Getting a call from the boys to drive them home when they had a few too many wasn’t out of the ordinary. Getting a call from a drunk Sam was rarer, but still in the realm of normal. Sometimes you wanted a quiet night to yourself and getting them out of the house to drink without you was a secret pleasure of yours.
Whatever the hell was going on in your backseat tonight though was certainly the strangest, most hilarious state you’d ever found them in.
“Oh boys...” you said, pulling out your phone and sticking it on the dash with a smile. They’d gotten up to some mischief in the short ten minute ride more than once. Your floor mats had wound up on the side of the road before. The sweatshirt you kept back there had been stretched and ripped when one of the two giants tried to shove themselves in it. To this day, no one knew what happened to the middle lap belt and where it ended up.
Dean whined like he always did when you forced him in the back so he wouldn’t bother you while you drove, giggling by the time he was actually crawling in with some help. Sam was bouncing around like a sugar high toddler and you pulled out your phone on a whim, catching more than a few funny moments before, expecting more of the same tonight. The radio being on wasn’t what you thought would set them off.
“...It'd be nice of me to take it easy on ya...” screeched out Dean, Sam dancing in his seat.
“But naaaaaaaah,” sang Sam, smacking Dean in the chest.
“Baby I’m sorry! I’m not sorry!” both boys shouted at the top of their lungs, so off tune, so absolutely into it you burst out laughing, covering your mouth with a hand when you caught a glimpse of them rocking out in the backseat.
“I can’t wait to show this to your sober asses,” you mumbled, your cheeks hurting from the grin on your face as they sang along with no shame whatsoever.
“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!” said Sam, poking you in the arm. “Louder! Make it louder!”
“Talk that talk baby,” sang Dean, pointing a finger at you, smirking the whole damn time. You turned the radio up a smidge, Sam giving you a thumbs up, starting to play with your back window.
“Please be a Taylor Swift song after this, please...” you said, the boys focusing again on the song, bopping their heads along, getting their bodies involved as much as they could as they belted their little hearts out.
“Well, good morning boys...” you teased when you walked in the kitchen, both of them groaning. Sam had his head buried under a newspaper, Dean staring at a cup of black coffee, squinting up at you.
“What’d we do?” asked Dean, frowning at your smirk. “You taped us again, didn’t you.”
“Baby, I’m sorry,” you said, bursting out laughing, Dean’s eyes taking a moment to register what you’d said.
“Oh you little...” he said, your feet already taking off to hide your phone, Dean hot on your tail. “That didn’t happen! I did not sell out to some top 40 pop!”
“Look! You forgot all about your hangover at least!” you shouted back, knowing he was getting closer. An arm around your waist took you by surprise, pulling you back against his chest. You glanced up with a cheeky smile. “Hi.”
“Where’s your phone, baby,” he asked, glancing down with a smirk. You shrugged, Dean picking you up, tossing you over his shoulder. “What am I gonna do with you...”
“Sorry?” you teased, poking him in the ribs as he walked.
Gabriel finds Sam drunk in the Men of Letters bunker
So, this thing was supposed to be silly and stupid, but somehow it became a bit more serious. It gets a little smutty, but I’m not super sure of my smut writing skills yet, so read with caution.
~~~
Gabriel...please...need your...help!
In a cyclone of wind and flapping wings Gabriel appeared suddenly in the bunkers kitchen, ready for a fight.
"Sammy! What's wrong!"
"I... I need you to refill this." He calmly held out his hand to Gabriel, an empty bottle of rum clutched in his fingers.
"What?!"
"Fill it. 'T's empty." Sams words were drunkenly slurring together, and a quick peek around the Bunker told Gabriel that there wasn't any physical danger running loose.
“What the actual hell, Sam?” The adrenaline was coming down in his system, and Gabriel slumped into the chair across the table from Sam. "Is that why you called me here? To refill your bottle like a baby?"
"'M not a baby." Sam mumbled, still holding empty bottle towards Gabriel.
"Sure you aren't." Gabriel snapped his fingers and the bottle was sent to the garbage. "No more for you, yeah? I'm cutting you off from... whatever you were drinking." Gabriel eyed the table between them, and it was a mess.
Twisted, used up lime slices were strewn about, most of them landed in a tipped over bowl of sugar. Bottles of club soda were in various states of empty. Gabriel counted three, no, four steak knives. And it looked like Sam was slicing up herbs directly on the surface of the table.
"What happened here?" Gabriel asked. "What are you drinking?"
"Mosquitos."
"I'm sorry, what?" Gabriel's laughter was barely contained behind his hand.
His muffled giggling made Sam's face contort into a semblance of a scowl, but in his current state, Gabriel thought it was just coming off as cute.
"It's a mo..." Sams brows furrowed in concentration, "mosquito." Letting out a frustrated growl, Sam leaned in, both hands slapped onto the table. Enjoying this a little too much, Gabriel mimicked his actions, not even trying to hide his smirk. "Mo... Hi... To. Yes. Got it."
Gabriel's joyous laughter escaped him this time, and Sam smiled triumphantly as he leaned back into his chair.
"Good for you, Sammich." Gabriel said as he wiped the moisture from the corner of his eye. "I knew you'd get there."
Sam lifted his empty glass in a victory toast and brought it to his lips, expecting a drink.
"So, what deep seeded psychological trauma are we drinking to forget today?" Gabriel asked as the laughter died down.
"Nothing." Came the slurred reply as Sam set his glass on the table with a loud thud.
"Nothing? Then why all this?" He gestured to the mess on the table.
Sam leaned forward again, and with no joy in his eyes he answered "Fun."
"You don't look like your having fun." There was a touch of sadness in his voice. "Where's Dean?"
Sam flinched a little at his brothers name, looking anywhere but at Gabriel. He took a sharp inhale, steeling himself.
"Told you. We were drinking for fun. Then he," his eyes slowly made their way to meet Gabriels, "took his angel to bed."
Understanding took over in Gabriels mind. "Ah, I see. You're feeling..."
"Lonely." Sam was nervously picking at his nails, his eyes once again returning to gaze at the table. Gabriel could tell something was running through the hunters brain, but he made a promise to never read their minds unless it was an emergency. But the emotions rolling off of Sam were broadcasting loud and clear. And Gabriel needed to diffuse this situation quickly.
He let out a heavy sigh. "OK Samsquach, lets get you a glass of water and send you off to bed."
Instead of snapping one up for him, Gabriel took Sams empty glass and walked over to the steel sink, feeling Sams eyes boring into him as he stepped across the kitchen floor. He rinsed out the glass, removing the remnants of rum and lime wedges, but before he could fill it back up with water, a pair of strong hands snaked their way around his waist. Gabriels heart leapt into his throat as he felt Sams hands cross over his stomach, then slowly start the journey up his chest. The loud clatter of the glass dropping against the sink did nothing to stop the advancement of Sams fingers, and Gabriel wouldn't want them to.
He tilted his head back into the strong shoulder of the hunter behind him, eyes closing as he enjoyed the feeling of Sam exploring his body. As his hands were working some kind of magic, Sam brought his head down, placing gentle kisses on Gabriels neck and jaw. The exploring hands separated, one heading up to gently massage Gabriels neck and the other slid down his thigh.
Gabriel pushed his body back into Sam, and let out a breathy moan at the feeling of Sams hard shaft pressing into his lower back. Sam shifted his legs a little wider and ground down into Gabriels ass, his gigantic hands finally palming Gabriel hardening cock over the denim of his jeans.
"Ah...Sam" Gabriel reached a hand up to thread his fingers into Sams glorious hair. "You...ah...you shouldn't do this."
Sam answered him by thrusting into him harder, earning a sharp gasp from the archangel.
"Are you sure about that?"
"Sammy! Shit..." Gabriel was rocking his body, matching Sams heavy thrusting. "You're drunk. And your...fuck!...your emotions are... you don't really want this."
Suddenly, Sams frantic movements slowed. His hands were no longer clutching desperately to Gabriels body, but massaging him gently. The almost violent movement of Sams hips slowed, and Gabriel was lost in the sensuality of the motion.
"You don't know what I want." The warm breath wafting over Gabriels ear sent a vibration down through his whole body. "And I may be drunk, but I do know what I want."
Sam twisted Gabriel around quickly, their chests pressed together. Large hands ghosted their way up to frame Gabriel's face, thumbs caressing his cheeks. Sam ducked his head low, his lips so close to Gabriels.
"I want to kiss you," Sam whispered sweetly. "Can I kiss you?"
Gabriel didn't say a word, only pausing a moment before bringing their lips together. Whatever space that was open between them closed quickly as Sam surged forward in urgency to deepen the kiss.
What started gentle and tender quickly became a fight for dominance. Hips rutted against each other as fingers danced under shirts and across taut skin. The kitchen echoed with gasps and moans.
When Gabriels hands found their way behind Sams neck, the hunter seized the opportunity and reached down behind Gabriels thighs, hoisting the angel up as he gasped in surprise.
A few more thrusts against the sink had Gabriel groaning through gritted teeth in pleasure.
"Let's go. Why don't you show me some of your tricks, demigod."
Gabriels head rolled back in pleasure, and Sam eagerly nipped at the tender skin presented to him.
"Your room," was all Gabriel could spit out through the onslaught of pure bliss he was experiencing.
Sam growled against Gabriels neck, and left one last bite before hiking the angel up for a better grip under his thighs. The change in angles allowed Gabriel to lean in and attack Sams neck with searing kisses, his feet hooking together at Sams back.
Anon, we like the way you think. You didn’t specify gen or a pairing so here’s everything:
Head Rush by saintdogstreetPairing: Gen | Rating: PG-13 | Wordcount: 5,709 | Archive: ffnetFour months without Dean. Hell on Earth. One night in the life of Sam. Post NRFTW. Limp!Sam and BigBrother!Dean. Oneshot.
And You Don’t Care So Much by crazybeaglePairing: Gen | Rating: PG-13 | Wordcount: +4,000 | Archive: LJCoda to “Heart,” in which Dean desperately tries to fix something that can’t be fixed in the only ways he knows how–in this case, booze, Doritos, and a whole lot of concern.
Hanged, Drawn, and Quartered by foolscapperPairing: Gen | Rating: PG-13 | Wordcount: 8,410 | Archive: AO3“Bar fight. Don’t tell Dean. I don’t want to hear it. You just… You understand best. You get it best, y'know? You get me.” Death brings Sam back — sort of. A domestic, curtain-fic sort of piece that explores different sections of what makes Sam Winchester. An alternative to S07E01, where raising our boy’s soul doesn’t go exactly to plan.
Fade by inthecompanyofdragonsPairing: Gen | Rating: PG-13 | Wordcount: 17,377 | Archive: AO3Sam knows he has dreams outside of hunting… His escape is the acceptance letter in the bottom of his bag. But he can’t leave his family. His choice to stay leads to a whole new world of pain for the Winchester’s, leaving them to wonder of Sam should have left his family behind him.
Look The Other Way by candle_beckPairing: Wincest | Rating: (not listed) | Wordcount: +55,000 | Archive: LJDean is a cop and Sam is his no-good brother.
falling through by cautionbewarePairing: Wincest | Rating: R | Wordcount: +3,400 | Archive: LJSam is seventeen years and one day old when his world rapidly collapses in on itself.
Count The Months by albydarnedPairing: Wincest | Rating: R | Wordcount: +5,200 | Archive: LJ In the months following his father’s death, Sam struggles to find his place in a world that’s taken everything, even his brother, away from him.
I Get Lost In My Mind by dollyluxPairing: Wincest | Rating: PG-13 | Wordcount: 2,234 | Archive: AO3stars and the vastness of the night sky and of a lifetime of memories and a whole heart of gaping loneliness and where is my brother
Have more recs for us? Reply here or drop us an ask.
