Sam Winchester Imagines

FIGHT

"(Y/n), this isn't going to end well for you," the shady guy said to you. You seriously had some questions as to how this creep knew your name. But he was being disrespectful, to just about everyone, and somebody had to take care of him. The rude guy in a bar is not a fun person to be around.
You feel yourself being lifted by the collar of your flannel, and then being pushed back against the thin bar-room wall.
You bring your knee up, hitting the pestilence in his crotch, and he barely has a reaction. He just winces and continues to press you against the wall even harder.
You blink and then notice that you're no longer in a bar.
"What the hell?" you bark, but the man just laughs.
"Change of scenery?" he smirks.
"Who are you?" you struggle against the hold that he has on you.
"Wrong question, my pretty," he laughs as the scenery changes once again.
Now it looks like you're in a field, that's traced with Willow Trees and purple roses. The sky is a baby blue, and there's a pond in the distance. The water looks crystal clear.
"Umm, are you the Wicked Witch of the West?" you ask sarcastically.
"Haha," he says pressing you even harder up against the tree that used to be a wall.
"What are you?" you ask slowly, rolling your eyes.
"Something that you couldn't understand," he hisses.
Your close your eyes, waiting for this guy to let up. You figure that someone just slipped something into your drink earlier.
"Hey!" you hear a deep, firm voice yell behind the man.
The man's grip on you lightly trembles, "Winchester?"
"Let the girl go!" he yells, his voice even firmer than before.
(A/N) OMG..... It's a defensive Sammy!!!
Following the guy's orders perfectly, the man holding you just disappears.
You fall down to the cold, hard asphalt, realizing that you are in some shady alleyway.  You don't know how you got here.  You only remember what happened just moments ago.  About a day or two is lost to your memory.
"(Y/n), are you okay?" you hear the once firm but now soft voice ask.
If you had the strength to talk, you would ask something in the manor or 'how the hell do you know my name?'
But, the o my thing that you can do is close your eyes and fall unconscious.
When you wake up, you're in a shabby looking room, and that one guy - the firm voiced one - is glancing at you.  He notices that you're awake and walks over to you.
"I'm Sam," he helps you sit up from the bed as you rub at a soar spot on your forehead.
"You already know my name," you try to sound okay with that - the guy did basically get you out of a sticky situation, after all.
"Are you okay?" he asks as you do the only that you can do, state at his smooth looking lips.
"Never better," you tug at him to come closer to you.
He does, clearly not knowing your motives.
Usually, you wouldn't be doing this sort of thing, but you must've hit your head pretty hard earlier.
You kiss him, and he doesn't kiss back.  Not at first anyway.
You trace a finger along the front of his shirt, him breath hitching.