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Imagine: Sam saving you from drowning. [x]

Y/N: Sam! Sam, help!
Sam: Y/N? Y/N?! *sees you struggling in the water* I’m coming, Y/N. *takes off his jacket, shoes, and plaid shirt*
Y/N: Sam! Please- I-I can’t swim!
Sam: *dives into water* *swims to you* I’ve got you, Y/N. Okay? I’m here- you’re okay. *holds you close to him*
Y/N: Sam… *holds onto him*
Sam: It’s all right- Y/N, you’re safe. *starts swimming out of the water with you with him* *lifts you out of the water* 
Y/N: T-thank you…
Sam: It’s okay. Now, let’s get some blankets for you, and a change of clothes for both of us. 

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2

Dean had been trying to explain to his brother what this case might have been, for once actually doing his job. He showed him the paper from that morning but Sam seemed to be distracted. Too distracted and that’s why Dean turned and looked. And that’s when he saw you.

A smile broke out across Dean’s face.

“She’s a pretty little thing isn’t she?” Dean said breaking the silence that had fallen over the two brothers due to Sam’s lack of concentration.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Go over there and get her number, dude,” Dean urged still glancing over at your smiling form.

Sam dropped the paper ever so slightly and looked up at his brother, nerves started to run through his body. “What? No…I can’t. I don’t…” he stumbled over his words trying to form a complete sentence, reminding Dean very much of when he was younger and he would try to talk to girls.

“Okay then, how ‘bout you go ask her about our victim? She looks like she knows a thing or two,” Dean suggested.

Sam dropped the paper and ran his sweaty palms on his jeans trying to dry them off.

“Yeah…okay,” he agreed.

The smile on Dean’s face only grew bigger. “Great! If you’re not back by ten tomorrow, I’ll call the cops.”

But Sam was already half way across the room.

“Yeah, go get ‘em tiger,” Dean said as he picked up his beer and watched as his brother tried to pick you up.

Supernatural Preferences~He Gets Jealous

Supernatural Preferences (Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, and Castiel)~ He Gets Jealous

Want to read my other preferences? >>Here<<

Dean Winchester:

Now, Dean didn’t really get jealous a lot. After all, he was in a committed, loving relationship with you, and he trusted you one hundred percent. …But, he didn’t trust scummy douche bags that came up to you in bars when you were drinking. The elder Winchester knew you could handle yourself, and he knew you wouldn’t flirt with them, so he had nothing to worry about. Or, at least that’s what he repeated to himself to try and control his anger as he saw the scene unfold…
         You sat quietly in a booth, sipping your beer occasionally. When Dean had gone off to the bathroom, you ordered drinks and picked a table. This one was away from the crowds, and loud drinkers. You were quite content in your silence, as you picked your note book out of your bag. The case notes soon followed. Before long, you were at work.
        Apparently, though some rowdy college students were not happy with silence. In fact, they were talking -well, more like yelling- away, in complete disregard for the quietness that had been in the bar before they had arrived. Your head rose, and you threw a glance over at them, a scowl soon following. You narrowed your eyes. Just as you were about to continue your note taking, one of the boys saw your eye contact as an invitation to walk over and talk to you.
       "Hey,“ he slurred, "I saw you eyeing me up from all the way over there.”
       He wore a cocky smile, that you so wanted to slap off of him.
       "Actually, I-“
       "You don’t have to explain, Baby,” he smirked, “Why don’t you join me and my friends for a drinking game? You seem like the type to enjoy-”
       You growled under your breath.
       "Actually, I’m fine. Leave. Please,“ you ground out, gritting your teeth.
       "But, Baby, we were only just getting to know each other.”
       You looked over his shoulder, and saw Dean emerge from the toilet door. Although you could probably beat this guy to a pulp- no, you could definitely beat this guy to a pulp, you really weren’t in the mood to deal with him. Right now, you just wanted to have a drink with Dean, and maybe taste a moment of normality. Just for once. Was that too much to ask for?
       Dean saw your eyes, and your silent ask to get rid of the frat boy trying -and failing- to chat you up. Your boyfriend glared at the boy in front of you as he walked to you. The elder Winchester’s fists clenched as the douche tried to lean closer to you.
       "I think you should listen to her: leave.“
       The guy was about to snort a reply, but once he saw Dean’s height and build, he soon cowered away. Although he covered it with a scoff, muttering under his breath something about how ‘wasn’t even worth it’, you could tell he was scared.
       "I have that drink you ordered,” you smiled, as Dean opposite you.
       "Thanks, Sweet Heart,“ Dean replied, his anger fading.
       "I should be saying thank you- that douche seriously couldn’t take a hint,” you smirked, shoving your case notes and note book back into your bag.
       "You could’ve taken him,“ Dean retorted.
       "Yeah, I could have. And there would’ve been blood,” you joked.
       "You’re amazing, you know that?“ he asked, reaching across the table to hold your hand, "Absolutely amazing.”
       "Since when did you become such a sap?“ you teased, holding his hand.
       His fingers gently brushed over the top of your knuckle. Dean wore a soft smile that he only reserved for very special occasions, and people. You were one of those few people. His eyes stared into your own, telling you more than Dean could ever tell you with his words. He wasn’t a very vocal guy; he wasn’t very good at expressing how he felt; he didn’t always have the words to say what he wanted to tell you, but you knew anyway. Whether it was how he acted, the silent things he did, or his beautiful green eyes, you knew.
       "Do you want to finish these beers and then go back to the bunker?” he asked tearing you from your thoughts.
       "I’d love to,“ you replied.
       So, ten minutes later, you left the bar, Dean’s body always close to yours. You clambered into the Impala and headed for the bunker, you headed for home. There was a peaceful silence settling between you and your boyfriend, but as you said before, you didn’t need words to understand what Dean meant. Quietly, classic rock hummed in the background as Dean drove you home. A small smile captured his lips, making them curve ever so slightly.
       Turns out, Dean had nothing to be worried about, just as his instinct had first told him. After all, the only person you were in love with was him.
       And, damn, for that he was one lucky guy.

Sam Winchester:

Sam didn’t like to get jealous. He hated the feeling; he hated how it consumed him; he hated how angry he would get. Honestly, he didn’t want to be angry, he didn’t want to be jealous, but sometimes… Sometimes, he just couldn’t help it. To him, you were absolutely perfect. In every way. And, it scared him partially, because there was always doubt in his mind. What if you realised he wasn’t perfect? What if you realised you deserved better? What if you really were too perfect for him? After all, how could someone actually forgive him for all the crap he had put you through?
         Demon Blood.
         Ruby.
         Dying.
         Soullessness.
         Generally, nothing scared Sam Winchester. He was fearless, almost. Ghosts? Fine. Demons? No problem. Angels? They were dicks, but he dealt with them. He dealt with anything thing that came his way, but he wasn’t completely fearless. He feared that you would leave. You would just up and leave; you would just stop loving him; you would just end it, and forget him. Truly, that’s what terrified him.
         In most situations he could control his jealous, but there were certain times when he simply couldn’t. And with doubt surfacing in his mind, making his thoughts churn, it didn’t help him hide his feelings. So, when he saw someone flirting with you, he couldn’t help but jealous. He didn’t want to interfere. …But, he had to do something- even just something small to calm his ever growing anger and jealousy.
         You, Sam, and Dean had just sat down in a small dinner, hungry and eager for breakfast, well whatever was on the breakfast menu here. Within a few minutes, a young, fairly attractive waiter came to serve you. As soon as he had appeared, his focus was on you. The way he looked at you was as if Sam and his brother weren’t even there. He flirted openly with you, although it was more like flirting at you, as you didn’t respond.
         "What can I get for a gorgeous lady like yourself?” he smirked.
         'Maybe he was just being nice,’ Sam thought, trying not to let jealous take over his senses, 'Maybe it was just a simple compliment…’ Of course, somewhere in the back of little Sammy’s head, he knew it not to be true. It looked, sounded, and was flirting. …But, he could handle it calmly, like an adult- and not a spoilt child.
         "Um,“ you pondered, "I think I’ll have the pancakes with [favourite/topping], please. Oh, and a medium coffee. Thanks,” you finished, glancing up at him from your menu.
         "Is there anything else?“ he asked, sending a flirty look your way.
         "Yeah, can I get-” Dean began, but he was interrupted.
         "Actually, I was still talking to…"
         "Y/N,“ you prompted.
         "Beautiful name,” he purred.
        Sam’s jaw clenched. There was no way he was just being kind now. No mistake about it, he was flirting with you- some jackass waiter was flirting with his girlfriend. Sam tensed, carefully watching the scene unfold. You, however, remained oblivious- and simply brushed off the waiter.
         "Thanks,“ you said innocently, not even recognising his flirtations.
         "You sure there’s nothing else I can get you, Gorgeous?” he pushed.
         "No,“ you replied, handing him your menu, "I’m good, but the boys still want to order something.”
         Dean shot the server a glare. Whereas, Sam had a permanent scowl on his face as the waiter talked. The waiter rolled his eyes before finally taking Dean’s order, and then Sam’s. He disappeared off into the kitchens, much to the relief of Sam.
         You shuffled round the booth and leaned on Sam’s side; you may have been oblivious to the waiter’s flirting, partly because you weren’t paying attention to him, but you knew your boyfriend- you knew when he was sad, when he was happy, and when he jealous. Sam looked down at you, but you simply smiled, and snuggled closer. Gently, you interlocked your fingers with his own. Before he could control it, Sam felt himself blush.
         The older Winchester fake gagged, “Adorable- I think I’m going to be sick.”
         "Oh hush,“ you scolded.
         "You’re ruining my appetite. Seriously.”
         "Nothing can ruin your appetite,“ you quipped, smirking when he feigned shock and hurt.
         "You okay, Sam?” you asked, sitting up slightly to look at him.
         "Yeah,“ he whispered.
         And that was the truth.
         You smiled and laid your head back onto his shoulder, re-assuming the position you were in seconds ago. Absent-mindedly, Sam held your hand a little tighter. It wasn’t too harsh, and it wasn’t too soft. It was just right.
         Sam stared down at you, love struck and in awe. All the doubt in his mind disappeared. When the waiter came back, it almost resurfaced, but your hand -holding tightly onto his own the whole while- reassured him. While you ate your food, you still held his hand. You ate your food in peace, and undisturbed by any flirty waiters, loud customers, or monster attacks. A warmth fluttered through Sam, unlike anything he had ever felt- with anyone.
        One thing was certain, Sam Winchester wasn’t getting jealous any time soon.

Castiel:

Castiel… Well, Castiel was an entirely different case. You’d never dated anybody like him before, and as he was still adjusting to emotions and how they felt, especially the more complex ones, you were never sure how he was going to react. Jealousy was a terrible emotion, but he was once an Angel of the Lord: surely, he could handle it. How bad could it really be? …Well, Cas had yet to find that out.
       Of course, Castiel knew what jealousy was, but he had never experienced it first-hand. It was something new to him. Something new and confusing to him. When he first felt it, it… it was indescribable. He knew he didn’t like it, though.
       Usually, when he was unsure of anything… human related, like emotions, he would go to either you or the Winchesters, but he didn’t feel comfortable talking to you or Sam and Dean about this. For one, you and the brothers were there when Castiel’s jealousy flared up. He was most of all confused by his new feeling- but he couldn’t ask, so he was left to suffer in silence, stewing as he watched you talk to a gang of hunters. He was near you, but he felt as though he was not part of the conversation. Cas stood solemnly beside you, his face blank and expressionless. To say the least, he wasn’t happy to be there. It didn’t help that angels weren’t exactly liked by hunters.
       Castiel stood just a few paces away from you, but kept his focus trained on you. Occasionally, it would wander to the other hunters, who were joking about with you, Sam and Dean, about some… hunter thing. Honestly, Castiel could care less about the trivial subject. For you though, he listened and remained there. When the topic changed slightly, the tone of the conversation becoming more playful -especially between yourself and an ex hunting partner- Castiel seemed to stand to attention. He went rigid, and his eyes narrowed.
      "So, Y/N, how’s life been going for you lately?” Daniel, your hunting partner from about three and a half years ago, asked, sending a smirk in your direction.
      “Well, you know, it’s been great. A little bloody, here and there, but I don’t mind it too much. And, you?”
      “Job’s not as fun since you left, but I get by.”
      “Now, you’re just flattering me,” you laughed.
      “So, what if I am?” he flirted.
      Cas’ eyes darkened. Even though he preferred to not use violence, he had the sudden urge to stab this arrogant ass butt with his angel blade. Your eyes flickered to your side, your gaze catching on Castiel. His face was tightened in anger and annoyance. Slowly, you returned your focus to Daniel, who was still smirking at you.
      “Well,” you began, completely ignoring the flirty tone in his voice, “I’d say you’re already my friend, so you don’t need to.”
      Daniel laughed it off, but you could tell he had still not given up on the idea of flirting with you, despite the fact you hadn’t really responded to any of his flirtations.
      Gradually, as you listened to the other hunters talk, you moved closer to Cas. He saw you shuffle towards him, but did not look your way until he felt your side pressed against his own. Castiel stared at you, confused for a moment, but you simply smiled. With one hand, you took Castiel’s palm, and placed it on your hip it so his arm was wrapped around your waist. You snuggled yourself into Castiel’s side. The angel blushed, but didn’t move his hand from the position you had put it in. For some reason, he was comforted by the action.
     As the afternoon faded slowly, you grew more tired. Time dragged on painfully, but you were content by Castiel’s side. You could tell he was bored so after a while you leaned up and whispered into his ear.
    “Why don’t we get out of here? I’m sure there’s a lot more interesting places you’d rather be… How about we got to that petting zoo we talked about?”
     He looked down at you with a shy grin.
     "That sounds like a great idea,“ he murmured back to you.
     "Well guys, I’m sorry to say that Cas and I are tired. It was great taking to you all again. Keep in touch this time, okay?” you spoke, saying good bye to them all before heading to your car.
      After telling the Winchesters where you were going, you left, speeding off to find that zoo you promised Cas you’d take him to. The whole time Castiel happily rambled on about the animals he would meet, offering surprising facts about each of them. You listened to each one, laughing along with Cas’ enjoyment.
      As your voices died down, Cas looked towards you.
      You.
      The person he could always count on.
      You’d been with him through thick and thin, and you’d stay with him until the end of time. And, even further. Castiel had all the faith in the world in you, and he trusted you more than anyone else. You knew each other better than anyone, and that’s why Castiel knew right then and there that the next time he got jealous, you would always be there to reassure him he didn’t need to be.
     To him, that was the best feeling in the world.

This was a request by Anon. I hope you enjoy it sweetie :)
You guys – HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND!!!!

Imagine having a nightmare about Sam dying.
When you finally wake up, he comforts you and you are able to go back to sleep.

There is blood all over your hands and you’re kneeling in a puddle of blood quickly increasing in size. The body lying in front of you is lifeless and growing colder by the second.

You are shaking and tears are clouding your eyes. You try to hold the body close to your chest but your hands won’t do what your head tells them to. The stench of iron reaches your nose and you breathe out heavily. Any second now the first sob will crawl out of your throat, unleashing a wave of emotion you won’t be able to control. A single tear slips out of your left eye. Slowly, it crawls alongside your nose down to your lips. Salty and bitter is all you register. Your head falls forward into the neck of the dead man in your arms. Even though the smell of blood, sweat, sulfur and - inevitably - death are overwhelming. You can still make out his smell, the smell of your boyfriend. It is something between coffee, ginger and early morning summer dew when it is about to become autumn again. You suddenly feel sick. You’ll never be able to feel the way you felt before tonight, before this hunt, before, before… oh God.

Suddenly, dark, cold hands grab your throat. A choked whimper erupts from your mouth. Your body is cruelly torn away from your boyfriend but you can’t do anything about it. A leaden numbness weighs down all of your limbs even though it looks like the hands pressing the air out of your lungs are elevating you higher and higher. Your eyes are fixed on your dead boyfriend, his hair is messy with all the blood but the only thing you can think of is how it feels to run your fingers through it.

„No!“, you suddenly scream and you finally start to struggle against the hard grip.

„No, no, let me go!“ you kick and scream. Tears are violently streaming down your face and a surge of adrenaline shoots through your body.

„Let. Me. Go!“ All you can think about is getting these hands off of you. You tear at them but they don’t move an inch. You know your boyfriend would’ve been able to help you. He would’ve gotten you out of anything, but now… Sam, you think. Oh no, Sam.

Sam was dead. Dead, dead, dead. From the top of your lungs you scream: „SAM!“ one more time. Then you wake up.

Your heart is pumping like crazy and your pajama tops are sticking to your sweaty skin. Somebody next to you is holding you up a little while rubbing your shoulders. First, you panic, the cold hands still rather present but then you realize who is next to you. Sam’s soft eyes are looking at you and your mouth falls open. You are so relieved to see him alive, all you can do is slap your hand over your mouth and gasp. Then, without a warning you fling yourself at Sam almost crushing him. He hugs you back and holds you tight. When Sam starts to talk, you finally are able to calm down. His soothing voice works a miracle on your strained nerves.

„Baby, it was just a nightmare,“ Sam whispers.

„I know, but still, Sam,“ you shutter and shake your head, „Sam it was, it was so terrible.“

Moving your legs around a little, you climb onto Sam’s lap. You feel like he can’t be close enough after what you just went through. Sam, who had a fair share of nightmares himself, can tell you don’t really feel like talking about it right now. Maybe best to try it in the morning, he reckons. So instead of forcing you into a conversation he pulls in the blankets and covers the both of you up. Thankful for the new coziness you snuggle yourself into his arm. Your head rests on Sam’s chest and his fingers caress your neck. His steady breathing, the familiar way his fingers feel on his skin, it gives you more comfort than anything else and soon drowsiness starts to take over your head. Your eyes keep falling shut but you try to hold on a little longer. You just need to feel Sam next to you for a bit more. He’s alive and safe, you tell yourself. Sam’s heart rhythmically beats in agreement and it’s the last thing you notice before you slip back into sleep. Though this time without any nightmares.