Supernatural Preferences and Imagines

Pieces- Sam

I've just tried something new with my LOTR/ TH book, and I'm going to try it here. This imagine is told in 'pieces' as there are multiple time skips.

When Sam opened the door he didn't expect to see his brother and a girl he had never met before. The girl was very attractive- not to mention she was holding Dean by the ear as she walked confidently into the motel.

"Take a picture, it lasts longer," she said, looking back and winking at Sam as she shoved Dean forwards.

"I- uh," Sam stuttered to her amusement. He collected himself. "Why is he bleeding?"

She sighed. "Because he's an idiot."

"I didn't know that idiocy caused people to just start spontaneously bleeding from the nose."

"I think it's a new phenomenon," she said slyly with a smirk. The girl wiped her bloodied knuckled onto her flannel. "I like you, Sam Winchester, but tell your brother to keep his nose out of where it doesn't belong."

The girl crossed the room and stood in front of the still-open door. "See you around, boys."

-.- One month later

"I got you boys a case," Bobby said gruffly. "Looks like some werewolves to me, a whole pack of 'em. I called a contact of mine. I'll reckon you'll need some help." He tossed some papers to the table; Cut-out headlines, victims, and a file.

"Who's Y/n?" Dean asked as he grabbed the file. "A suspect?"

"The contact I called-"

"It's her?" Dean threw the file down.

Sam frowned and grabbed the folder, flipping it open to reveal a black-and-white picture of the girl who had beat up Dean. She wasn't smiling in the photo but she was still insanely gorgeous. Y/n stood next to Jo in front of Ellen's Roadhouse. She had a machete strapped to her leg, a gun holster, and an anti-possession necklace.

"There's your picture, Sammy," Dean teased.

"Bitch." Sam put down the file.

"Jerk."

-.- Fifteen hours later

"Hello, Sam," you greeted, leaning against a brick wall.

"Hello to you too." Dean sighed deeply and fixed Y/n with a rough stare.

You rolled your eyes. "No hard feelings, Pretty Boy. Be thankful I didn't break your nose." You walked up to Sam, lips curling upwards in an attempt of a smile. "We have more important things to get through right now."

-.-Three months later

"Feet off the table, Y/n!" Bobby yelled from the kitchen.

"You can't even see me!" you shouted back. Sam let out a snort in attempts to hide his chuckles.

"Doesn't matter, I know." You and Sam shared a look, then you reluctantly put both feet on the ground. "Thank you!"

"No problem," you sighed. You glared at Sam, who had a hand over his mouth and eyes were crinkled with amusement. "What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing." He shrugged, casting his eyes upwards.

"The ceiling? You're laughing at the ceiling. I find that hard to believe."

"Ceilings are very amusing these days," Sam responded simply.

"Is that so?" you drawled. You dramatically made a point of looking up and letting out obnoxiously fake guffaws. However, the fake didn't last long as you and Sam both doubled over with real laughter. Tears streaming down your cheeks, one would look up again and then loose all composure.

"What the Hell?" Dean muttered as he walked in from a beer run. You and Sam looked up at him before laughing again, holding each other for support.

-.-Four days later

You could tell by the look on Sam's face that he was about to fall asleep on the table; How his eyelids would droop, his shoulders slumped, and his hand was the only thing propping his head up.

It was only when you heard light snoring did you decide to do something. Normally, you would have pranked him but seeing that he hadn't slept for two days...

So you got up from your spot and walked over to a Sam who had just woken up from his minute-long sleep.

"C'mere," you said, putting his arm around your shoulders. You stood up and hauled the moose to his feet. You walked as he stumbled to the spare bedroom- technically your room as the Winchesters normally slept in the living room- and pushed him onto the bed.

"What?" he mumbled.

"I didn't say anything you lump," you muttered while pushing his legs under the covers. "Goodnight, Sam." You walked over to the light and switched it off.

-.-One week later

You hadn't realized you've been screaming until Sam rushed into your room, shaking your shoulders to get you to wake up. Your first reflex was to punch whoever touched you in the face- which you quickly regretted.

"Jesus!" Sam half-shouted, though the shout was more surprise than pain. He stumbled away from the bed.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, trying to calm your beating heart.

"I heard you shouting and thought you need help," the Winchester admitted.

You nodded. "It was just a nightmare. I guess it happens to the best of us, huh? I'll- I'll be okay."

"Okay as Hell," Sam whispered and walked over to your bed. "Move over."

You frowned. "What?"

"Scooch." He walked over and lifted the covers, settling himself right next to you.

"Look at you," you said. "Don't you think we ought to get to know each other a little more before we start sleeping together?"

"I'm protecting you from the nightmares."

"You big sap!" you squealed. "However, I do recall beating the crap out of your brother- do I really need protecting? Your brother, Sam."

He smiled. "By all means, I can go back."

Your playful tone faded. "No, stay. Please."

"Okay," whispered Sam. You put your head on his chest and hand over his shoulder. His fingers slowly drifted through your hair, calming you down effectively. Soon your heartbeats and breathing were in time and you felt yourself nod off into a dreamless sleep.

That morning, Dean assumed that Sam was going on a 'run' or whatever he deemed so necessary to do at ungodly hours that he decided to pull a little prank on Y/n.

The classic: Whip cream + Feather

The poor victim would be fast asleep with their hand outstretched, the prankster would put whipping cream onto that very had then proceed to use the feather to tickle their nose. The victim would wake with a face full of cream.

Though forgiven for the nose-incident, Dean thought himself friends with Y/n, it was time for payback with a prank-war.

So, quiet as a mouse, Dean crept down the hallway to the slightly ajar door and peeked inside. However, he wasn't expecting to see his brother and Y/n cuddled up together sleeping soundly- and clothed, thank God.

He would save the prank for another day...

Or would he?