Demons (Supernatural Fan-fiction)

These are great! (Longer, very important chapter)

I woke up to hear Sam still snoring peacefully. I smiled, not opening my eyes just yet. Listening to Sam was peaceful and soothing. His snores grew softer, until he was breathing normally. He groaned slightly, rolling over in his spot.

I giggled quietly, seeing as I knew he was waking up, even though he didn't want to. He rolled over to face me again. I slowly opened my eyes.

Sam was laying there next to me, his eyes open a bit and a sleepy, goofy smile painted across his face.

"Good morning," I yawned. He smirked and pecked my lips. He sat up and stretched his arms widely. I stood up, rolling my shoulders and popping my back. I walked over to my bag and grabbed a quarter-sleeved, black and blue striped sweater and a pair of dark skinny jeans. I quickly changed and put on some light makeup like blush and mascara.

I turned, only to see Sam was gone. I peeked out into the hallway, but all was silent, except for Dean still snoring across the hall. I turned, shutting and locking the door again. Sam jumped out from behind me and grabbed me by the waist. I screamed a little, surprised by his sudden movement. He lifted me and I laughed, kicking playfully. We laughed and grinned like idiots.

"Put me down!" I giggled.

"No!" he laughed back. He put me closer to the ground, but didn't release me. I giggled again, leaning closer to him. It was now that I realized he was shirtless. I blushed like mad, my face growing hotter than the sun and redder than a tomato. Sam noticed my embarrassment and laughed again.

"Like what you see?" he asked, still chuckling. I flicked him on the nose. He hardly flinched. I flipped him off, annoyed but entertained with his childishness. He returned the gesture. I dropped my hand and placed it over my heart, pretending I was insulted.

"How rude!" I scoffed in a totally posh accent, trying to hold back laughter. Sam chuckled and kissed me on the lips again, lightly. I pulled away from him and giggled.

"What?" he smiled.

"Nothing," I mumbled, closing my eyes but still smiling. He released me and I walked over to the small suitcase he had with his clothes in it.

"Put on a shirt," I complained, giggling a bit. I picked up a grey t-shirt and a blue plaid quarter-sleeved shirt to go over it. I wadded them up into a tight ball and chucked them at him. I caught the shirts with ease, quickly slipping them on over his head.

When he was done getting dressed, which meant he put on his shirt(s) and was done, we walked back downstairs, smiling like idiots. We walked into the kitchen to see Bobby, flipping burnt pancakes and eggs. I face-palmed, seeing as the food was burnt to a crisp and most likely inedible.

"Hey, Bobby, you do realize that the food is burnt already, right?" I asked, smirking a bit. He turned to face us and shrugged.

"You wanna cook? Go ahead," he challenged, sticking out the spatula he was using. I quickly snatched it out of his hands and walked over to the oven, turning off the burners and dumping all the burnt food into the garbage can.

I quickly located all of y ingredients and made the batter for my pancakes. I heard Bobby and Sam chatting in the background, just small talk, like the weather and stuff.

I made two plate-sized circles of pancake batter in the hot pan. The dough began to sizzle and a sweet aroma hit my nose, making my mouth water a bit. I waited for the bubbles on the edges and flipped the pancakes, welcomed by the warm, light, golden-brown color. I flipped the other pancake, only for the same result.

I waited until the undersides were cooked before I picked up a plate, stacking them on it. I cooked about ten pancakes, which made two for each person, if they wanted it. I turned of the burner and moved the hot pan to the sink, washing it with cold water. I turned to Bobby and Sam, who were still chatting.