Over-Work (Sam X Reader)

~A/N: Listen As You Read! www.youtube.com/watch?v=L8H4Y6…









    It had been the first time in a long time where he actually looked peaceful, with his bronze locks falling over his face and head nestled in between his crossed arms, it looked as if he didn't have the entire worlds fate resting on his shoulders. His expression remained relaxed, one of serenity as every so often his nose would twitch and his brows would furrow. He groaned softly in his slumber, tossing his head and pressing his cheek against his arm to make it more comfortable. It seemed as if he didn't even plan to fall asleep, seeing that all his papers and work was still beneath his arms, and his posture remained somewhat upright in the chair he was seated in. You weren't sure of the last time he got some well-deserved sleep after Kevin's death.

    You hated to have to wake him during one of the only peaceful moments he had to himself, but Dean had offered to wake him using an air-horn and you thought Sam would appreciate it if you woke him up gently instead of having a blast of noise in his ear. Gently bending down, you pressed your lips to his temple and brushed away a few strands of his hair. "Sam? Sam, wake up..." you hummed softly into his ear.

    He simply groaned and shifted, moving his head to the other side. As stubborn as a mule, one of the qualities you hated and loved about him.

    "Sam... Come on, wake up... If you want to sleep, go do it in your room, not all over the table where your papers and stuff is," you said, gingerly pressing your palms to his shoulders.

    He muttered in his sleep and burrowed his head in his arms.

    Time for a last resort.

    Conjuring up your best British accent, you cleared your throat and spoke clearly into his ear. "Come on Moose, wake up! We haven't got all day for your dilly-dallying!"

    He groaned and muttered, "Go away Crowley, I'm working."

    "Some work you're doing," you said in your normal voice with a laugh, kissing his cheek when he began raising himself out of his stupor. A small smile bedecked his lips at your gentle touches, and he responded by giving you a soft kiss. "Come on, go to your room to sleep before Dean comes in here with the air-horn."

    "No, I'm fine," Sam replied, shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair as he cleared his throat.

    "Are you sure?"

    "Yeah, don't worry about it."

    Seeing that you weren't going to push him any further in his decision, you simply pulled out a chair and sat beside him. Furrowing his brows and giving you a confused expression, he cleared his throat and murmured, "What're you doing?"

    "I'm sitting here with you. What, is that a crime?" you asked.

    After a moment he grinned, a soft breathy laugh emitting from his lips before he intertwined his fingers with yours beneath the table, picking up a pencil with his other hand. "Alright," he said, shrugging softly. "Just promise to wake me up if I fall asleep, before Dean gets the air-horn."