Supernatural Imagines

Sam/ What Are You Doing In My Bed

Authors note: Hi everyone and welcome back to the second chapter.

Hope you enjoy:)

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There was a constant throbbing banging in your head, and you groaned quietly. Hungover was one way to describe it, but another would definitely be someone repeatedly smashing a hammer over to skull.

So, you'd had some drinks the past night, and the memories weren't coming back as fast as you'd hoped.

You shifted, feeling the sheets that were not yours on bare skin, and looked down a bit. Not only were you hungover, but you were naked, and in a different bed of the bunker.

Go figure.

There was a movement next to you, and you looked to your right to see that Sam was lying there with his back to you. Had you not been so disoriented, you would have probably bolted up in surprise at the situation. However, you were too groggy and still way too tired to care that much.

You lied there for a few passing seconds, contemplating whether or not you should wake him up before forcing yourself to to sit up with difficulty. Your head pulsed at the movement, but you just swallowed whatever bile was left in your mouth and tapped Sam on the shoulder.

"Hey," you said, changing to shaking him. "Wake up." Your voice was slightly hoarse.

It took a few tries, but eventually, Sam groaned lightly before turning to face you. He stared at you for a few long moments with his eyes squinting to try and block out the lamp that had been left on the entire night. "Y/N?"

"In the flesh."

His eyes briefly glanced downward at the sheets wrapped around your chest before realizing. "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?" he asked almost sarcastically.

"I was hoping that you'd be the one to tell me."

"How many-" he stopped to groan again as he sat up next to you. "Where-what did we drink last night? All I remember is you and Dean getting into a shots contest."

You nearly gagged at the memory, and you held a hand to your mouth. "Don't," you said, slowly shaking your head. "Not right now."

You both sat in silence, trying to figure out the events of the previous night when someone knocked on the door.

"Sammy? It's noon; I'm coming in."

"No, Dean, wai-"

Dean opened the door, but he didn't see you at first. He started to talk, realized what Sam looked like-hungover and, well, naked-before spotting you next to him. His eyebrows raised. "Y/N?"

You chuckled nervously. "Uh, boo?" Out of all the things, your "ghost" impression was the first thing that came out.

Sam sighed out of his nose and raked a hand through his hair while Dean laughed uncomfortably and said, "Yeah, yeah, I get it. It's springtime. Just keep it, you know, inthe room?" He closed the door behind him.

You cleared your throat. "Well, this is awkward."

"Uh, yeah," Sam answered, making a face.

"What do you think we should do about this?"

"First things first-turn off that lamp; it's terrible."