Supernatural Preferences & Imagines

Sam and Dean Winchester Imagine

It's all over, it's all over.

_

"Level up!" You shouted at your roommate, who was playing the wii with you. She sighed and bumped her shoulder into yours, a playful smile on her face. "Whatever. I'm still ahead by 1!" At that you stuck your tongue out at her. "Hey!" She accused and nudged me harder to throw you off track.

That made you scowl. "Cheater..." You muttered under your breath before winning again. "Ha! In your face!" You jumped up, throwing the remote on the couch, and cheering and dancing. "Come on, Carrie, celebrate with my victory!" Carrie giggled and shrugged before joining in with dancing with you.

After awhile of dancing, the game long forgotten, you both laughed and calmed down. "We should really go to bed," she laughed breathlessly. Her auburn hair was thrown up in a bun now, and her face was flustered. You nodded. "Work tomorrow, yep." Both of you said your good nights before going to bed, but you waited until she was gone and into her room before going into the kitchen.

There. The salt was untouched all night, waiting to be used like it had been for a long time. Precautions were mandatory after leaving a hunters life, and you didn't take it lightly. Shortly after Carrie had gone to bed, you went to your room to get a good nights sleep.

Salt lined every window, not a speck out of place, and extravagant Devils traps were placed strategically around—hidden—the house. Crickets chirped and the wind blew, not a single "bump" throughout the night.

_


The next morning you woke up to Carrie shouting. "Who the hell are you? Get out!" Your Hunter instincts took over and you were out of bed with a gun clutched dangerously in your hands. You looked down and put it back under your pillow, saving the silver bullets, and grabbed your knife.

Carefully, you had made it into the hallway without being heard. Carrie still sounded angry, but not in terror. "Look—" the voice made you pause entirely. No, no... You quickened your pace, vaguely aware of what you were doing. This isn't the best way to go fight, was the first thing after that popped into your head. Pajamas—a tank with black shorts—were not protection enough in a fight.

"I don't want to hear it! Get out of our house—hey!" You made it out, running across the room and, grabbing the first person you saw, held them against you with the knife to their throat. Carrie was gone, and then you only realized she had fled for work when you ran in. She knew the drill, Carrie knew you were an "ex–marine" and could protect you both.

She also knew that you were not one to be messed with. "Local Badass" was your name in the small town you lived in.

"Who are you—" your words got caught in your throat at who's face you saw. The one below you was rigid, and your bit your lip hard. "Sam..." He lowered his weapons to the ground, staring you in the eye. Your knife was pressed up against his neck, Sam looking at you with pleading eyes. In a quick, swift movement, you had pushed your hostage away.

"Sam and Dean..." You whispered, your grip on the knife loosening and clattering to the hard wood floor. "We saw the salt, last night, and how you checked under the rugs and in closets. [Y/N]—" you cut off Sam with a harsh voice. "No, I'm done. I'm done with hunting!" Dean looked at you, eyes pleading. A wave of nostalgia washed over you, your defenses slowly slipping away with your will to deny.

Sam and Dean were looking at you and then Sam did the unspeakable. He got his knees and clasped his big hands together, looking up at you with big eyes. "Please. We're on our knees begging you." Dean looked at his brother before grunting and getting down, grumbling about it but shutting up when he looked at you. "Please," you looked away, your hand instantaneously holding your abdomen and your eyes watering. "I don't have the skill."

Dean's eyes flickered and he shook. Oh, now he remembered? "[Y/N]—" you looked at him, still holding your healed abdomen. "No. I can't help you." And just like that, your walls were back up and your grip on rejecting them got a little bit stronger. You stomped to your room, hearing the start to follow after a minute. "[Y/N] wait!" Dean called and you blinked rapidly to dissolve the building pressure in your eyes. "Champ!" You froze and your hand shot out to support yourself on the wall. "No." Your voice was hoarse.

"Just leave me alone." A hand grabbed you and turned you around, enveloping you in a familiarly big hug. It warmed you and you relaxed, a small sob escaping you. "Shh," they calmed you, and you realized it was Sam. "I—I can't—" you hiccuped and wrapped your arms around Sam, gripping his shirt in your fists. "I know," his voice was solemn and sad, "it'll be all okay." Another hand rubbed your back soothingly. "Just consider it, okay?" Sam whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss to your head. He started to pull away but you didn't let him.

Sam tilted his head and asked, "What?" "Please don't leave me," you whispered. The next words you said made him hug you tighter and Dean hug you too.

"Please, I need you here."

_

sorry for not updating :(

And I'm also sorry for the shortness.

But, I have a new book out! *smiled pathetically and tries to get readers on it*

It's called "Plaid" and is mY BEST IDEA EVER

LIKE, PLEASE READ IT BECAUSE IM SO PROUD OF THE FIRST TWO CHAPTERS.

Gotta go, but I hope you enjoy "Plaid" of you read it! Feedback is welcomed and votes are appreciated!

Bye bye Mishamigos!

=(< • )
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^ that's a guy running, lmao