Supernatural Sister Imagines

Imagine #95: A Night On The Beach

yo this imagine was inspired by the fact that I'm on vacation and just took a walk on the beach at night with my aunt and I think it's my new aesthetic and I'm so touch-starved that the only thing I could think about was a fluffy walk with a lover or family member at night with all the seashells and quiet waves and shit so I decided to write it in an imagine hehe

Imagine: While staying at a motel, you and the boys go to the beach at like midnight.

Warnings: SO MUCH FLUFF

Age: 16

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You rolled back and forth in the bed next to Sam, constantly switching between being curled up in the crook of his body, one of his arms thrown over you idly, or hanging off the edge of the bed, clinging to whatever cold air sifted beneath the sheets as you soaked in your own sweat. Sam and Dean both slept peacefully, and for a moment you debated waking them or leaving them be, but eventually you couldn't take it anymore.

Rolling your eyes, you sat up and gingerly shook Sam's shoulder, whispering sweet nothings in his ear so he wouldn't wake angry or alarmed. "Sammy, Sammy wake up."

Eventually he gave a snort and rolled over, propped on one elbow as he rubbed his eyes and squinted at you in the dark. "Y/n? What's wrong?"

"Get up," You commanded quietly, "put on some clothes."

"What?" He protested with a whine, "Why?"

"Just do it," You almost snapped as you stood and moved away from him towards Dean's bed, glancing over your shoulder to make sure he'd obeyed you before tapping Dean, "Dean, wake up. Big brother, come on, wake up."

He gave a long groan as he pushed himself upright, glancing at the clock beside his bed. "Y/n, what the hell? It's not even midnight yet."

"We're going for a walk. I can't sleep." You said calmly, flicking on the light while he shied away from it with a whine.

"Then walk alone!" He protested, falling back into his pillow, his voice suddenly muffled, "I'm trying to sleep."

Sam pulled on a different shirt, smacking his brother's leg as he put on his jacket. "Dude, come on. Think about it. How often does she ask us to do stuff for her?"

"Never." Came the quiet reply.

"And how often does she do stuff for us?"

"..."

"Dean."