Supernatural Imagines

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Jul 8

Will you please do an imagine were the reader is super nice to everyone and sam treats her like dirt because he loves her?

Anonymous

Hey. I finally got round to writing this! I hope you like it.

~~~~~

You stumbled into the bunker, your hands laden down with bags of groceries. The Winchesters and you took it in turns to do the grocery shopping, and this week, it had been your turn. So you had set off for the nearest town and, two hours later, you were back at the bunker, having picked up everything on the list.

“I’m back!” you called out, dumping the bags on the kitchen counter. Straightening up, you stretched your back, which was aching from the strain of all the shopping. Upon hearing your call, Dean came into the room, and took a quite peek in the bag nearest to him.

“How’d it go?” he asked, his face lighting up as he drew a bag of peanut M&Ms from a shopping bag.

“Good. I got everything on the list,” you told him, smiling at his childlike enthusiasm. “Aaand, I got a little something else for you. You can have it for lunch.”

“No way.” Dean’s jaw dropped, and he threw down the M&Ms as you pulled a pie from a bag. “I love you, Y/N!” he exclaimed, grabbing the pie from your hands and pulling you in for a hug.

“Sam, I got you something, too,” you told him, grinning as he walked into the room to grab a drink from the fridge. He glanced at you for the briefest moment, before snatching the salad you offered him from your hand and stalking out of the room.

“Hey, Sammy, get back here,” Dean called. Sam turned back around, leaning against the doorframe with a bored expression.

“What?”

“Not ‘what,’” Dean answered, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he looked at Sam. “Y/N here went out of her way to do something for you, and the least you could do is thank her.”

“Dean, really, you don’t have to -”

“No, I do,” Dean interrupted, turning to look at you now. “You’re always doing nice things for us, things you don’t have to do, and Sam never acts grateful for it. It’s time he showed you some respect.”

“Fine. Thank you, Y/N,” Sam said to you. To Dean, he added, “Can I go now?”

“No. I want to know why you do it.”

“Dean, this is getting out of hand,” you told him. “I’m sure Sam has his reasons. He doesn’t need to prove anything to us.”

“Y/N, I appreciate that you want to avoid any conflict, but I’m going to have this discussion with Sam regardless. You are a good person, and you don’t deserve this treatment.” You fell silent, knowing that once Dean made his mind up, you wouldn’t be able to do anything to change it.

The truth was, you had noticed the way Sam treated you. And it really did bother you, considering you knew you had done nothing to deserve that kind treatment. But you kept quiet about it, not wanting to make things worse. You figured that if you said nothing, he would just ignore you. Because in theory, indifference was so much easier to deal with than anger. But in practice, it’s a whole lot worse.

“Do we have to do this?” By now, Sam had stopped leaning on the doorframe and now stood up straight, his body rigid with tension.

“Yes, Sam, we do,” Dean stated flatly. “Now spill.” Sam sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Every inch of him screamed reluctance, and when he finally opened his mouth to speak, it was as if he had to draw the words from deep down inside of him.

“Fine,” he exhaled. “Fine. How do I…? Alright. Y/N, are you…God, I can’t believe I’m asking this. Are you familiar with the Supernatural books?”

“The what?” you asked, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. What was he talking about? And where was he going with this?

“Basically, it was a series of books about our lives. Don’t look them up, though!” he added hastily, seeing your curious expression. “The point is…those books explain everything that has happened in our lives since we started hunting together. And…part of that story is my previous relationships. Which…haven’t gone so well.” Wait a minute. What? This conversation was in no way going the way you had predicted. You held your breath, waiting for Sam to continue.

But Sam seemed to have run out of steam, unsure of how to continue. Looking around, you noticed for the first time that Dean was no longer in the room. He must’ve slipped out while you were busy focussing on what Sam had to say. “Sam,” you said quietly. “What are you trying to say?”

“Y/N, I…I love you. And the reason I treat you like dirt is because I don’t want you to go the same way as everyone else I’ve liked before. I figured that if I pushed you away, I could keep you safe,” he finished quietly.

You stood frozen, not knowing how to react. What were you supposed to say? After months of thinking that Sam hated you, you were finally finding out that he loved you? “You have a really funny way of showing it, you know,” you said to him, your voice trembling with suppressed anger.

“I know,” Sam replied, picking up on this. “But I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Ironic, isn’t it, that the very way you go about protecting me turns out to be the reason I’m hurting in the first place.” Sam hung his head in shame, not able to look at you after realising just how he’d made you feel.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Folding your arms, you said, “Well, sorry doesn’t really go that far.”

“Then let me make it up to you,” he said earnestly, finally looking up at you again. “I’ll treat you properly, I won’t be a jerk to you any more. Can you give me another chance?” He looked so eager to please, his expression so hopeful, that you found you couldn’t turn him down.

“I guess it couldn’t hurt,” you answered.

~~~~~

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