Supernatural Imagines

Out of Reach

Imagine: There's not enough room in the cupboards to put everything on your level, so you must rely on the taller of the two Winchesters to help you out. Little did you know, he was keeping a secret.

Today was baking day, and you had decided to make some baked goods for now, and some to freeze for later. Cookies, muffins and of course, pie. You knew this was going to take all day, so you decided to start early.

You had reached the point in your recipe where it called for cinnamon, so you walked over to the cabinet containing your spices. You were dismayed to see that the cinnamon had been moved to a higher shelf. Not only that, but it was pushed back from the edge, just out of your reach.

At that moment, Sam walked through the back door after his morning run. He saw you struggling to grab the cinnamon with the kitchen tongs, a bemused smile on his lips. "Do you need some help?" he asked with a chuckle.

You let out an exasperated sigh. "Good morning, Sam. Yes, I would like some help, please. Someone decided to rearrange my spices and without telling me. Also, they were moved way out of my reach! How am I supposed to get any cooking done when I can't reach anything? Not my fault I'm shorter than you guys," you muttered.

Sam sauntered up to the counter, plucked the spice from the shelf and dropped into your waiting hands. He leaned down and said softly, "All you have to do is ask, and I'll be happy to help you." His hazel eyes twinkled with amusement as he winked at you, then took a long pull on his bottle of water.

"Th-thank you, Sam," you stammered. After he left the room, you went back to your mixing bowl. You took a deep breath to steady your nerves from being so close to Sam. He was so gorgeous, you couldn't help but be flustered whenever you were around him. He was the more reserved of the two Winchesters, you thought. However, you had a feeling that there was a good deal of raw, passionate energy only barely contained within his 6'4" frame. 

Shaking your head, you returned your focus to making a batch of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. No raisins for these two, you thought. Only the best for my guys, and that means chocolate chips. You opened the bag and dumped in the chocolate chips, stealing a few for yourself first.

The kitchen seemed a little quiet, so you accessed your Classic Rock playlist from the music app on your phone. In that respect, you and Dean were in agreement, but you found you had more in common with Sam. Reading, movies or taking a walk in the woods behind the bunker was more your style.

You started getting into the music as you worked your way down the playlist, singing and dancing as you went. The oven timer sounded, so you put on the oven mitts and took out a tray of cookies. As you pivoted from the oven to the counter, you were surprised when you noticed that Sam was standing in the doorway. "Whoa, Sam! You nearly made me drop this tray of cookies, which would not have been good. How long have you been standing there, anyway?" you asked as you put the baking sheet on the counter.

"Only long enough to realize you are truly in the zone when you're in here," he answered, moving towards you. "Also to know you have a beautiful voice and some killer dance moves," he smirked as he leaned in, his breath hot on your ear.

Dammit, how is he doing this to me? you thought. Your heart hammered in your chest from the rumble of his voice so close to your ear. Recovering your sanity, you replied, "You have two choices. You can either scoot out of my kitchen and let me work, or you can stay. But, I guarantee, if you stay, I'm going to put you to work."

"I don't mind some work, as long as I get to partake of one or more of these delicious goodies when we're done," he bargained. "Deal," you said, his large hand engulfing your smaller one in sealing the agreement.