Supernatural imagines

Sam x Reader ~ two

Imagine: Sam finds out that you've never been ice-skating before, and insists on taking you to a lake nearby, that has frozen over in the winter.

After another gruelling hunt, you, Sam and Dean drove back to the motel you were staying in, to stitch yourselves up. You'd had a nasty run-in with a couple werewolves; you had all originally believed that it was just the one werewolf- a rogue- but the second one turned up and things got a bit more complicated. You had a deep gash in between your shoulder blades where the bigger of the werewolves had snagged you with its claws. Sam had a dislocated elbow from being flung at the wall, and Dean a few scratches and bruises on his face. He came off the better of you all. Once you got back to the motel, Sam unlocked the door and the three of you stumbled into the darkness. Dean flicked the lights on and sat down on one of the beds. There were only two single beds in the room, so you spent most nights on the couch, though, you didn't really mind. Sam often offered to give up his bed, but you didn't want him to be uncomfortable, so you always declined. You had a special place in your heart for Sam. As much as you loved Dean, he was more like a brother to you. Whereas, Sam... He was such a gentlemen, he always wanted to learn stuff about you and he was always very courteous. He made you feel like a princess. However, you never told him about your feelings for him, because you were scared he would reject you. It was obvious he didn't feel the same about you; whenever you went out, you would see him looking at other girls. And that made you feel like shit, but you never let down your guard, and you carried on with a smile.

What you didn't know, was that that very smile was one that made Sam's heart melt. From the moment he met you, two years ago, he thought you were the smartest, funniest, and kindest girl he'd ever known. You'd sometimes go to the library together and just sit and read. Not having to say anything. Or you'd sing and dance to music in the kitchen of the bunker. Those were the times he treasured. They were simple, peaceful, and well... They made him feel normal. You made him feel normal. But, like yourself, he didn't want to say anything, out of fear of jeopardising your friendship. So the two of you went about your days acting like best friends.

Retrieving a first aid kit from the cabinet, Sam sat beside you at the small table in the kitchen. He looked at you nervously. "Sam? What's wrong?" You frown, concerned. There was a terrfied look plastered onto his face. "Um..." He gulped and his cheeks reddened. "I... You... I need you to take off your shirt..." Your eyes widened with shock and then you realised that he meant- he needed you to take it off, in order for him to get to your wound. "Oh." You laughed awkwardly. "Right." You begin to lift your shirt up when you moved your right arm, and a burning sensation spread through your back and your shoulder. You gasped and immediately let your arm drop to your side. You gripped the edge of the table so hard your knuckles turned white. You bit your lip and let out a heavy sigh as you waited for the pain to pass. Sam laid his hand gently on your other shoulder, comfortingly. Worry shadowed his sharp features. You nodded, signalling to him that you were okay. "Here." Sam picked up a small pair of scissors from the first aid box and gestured for you to turn around. You did so and he carefully cut away the material that had been dyed a deep crimson colour with your blood. Examining the wound, Sam began working straight away. You trusted him, but you couldn't stop yourself from fidgeting. Dean wandered over and handed you his glass of whiskey. You drank it in one and he poured another for you, then left. The alcohol soon numbed the pain, and around half an hour later Sam announced that he was done. He took off his shirt and handed it to you so that you had something to cover you. Gratefully, you took it, and slipped it over your head. It was much too big for your small frame, but you liked it because it was comfy and smelled like him. You couldn't stop yourself from staring Sam's tanned torso and his strong, muscular arms.

You were about to head to the kitchen when you noticed Sam holding his lower arm and gritting his teeth. "Need some help?" You raised an eyebrow at him. "Uh... Yeah, actually. If you don't mind, could you help..." He trailed off and just sort of held his arm out to you. He gave you the eyes- as you and Dean called it. Whenever he wanted something, he would flash this look at the two of you. It reminded you of a puppy, his big brown eyes gazed up at you. You gently touched his shoulder and stood beside him. You knew what you were doing; you'd fixed dislocated shoulders and elbows and stuff before, it was apart of the job. But you still felt a bit nervous, you didn't want to hurt him. Gingerly, you took his hand in yours and placed your other hand behind his elbow. "I'll count to three, okay?" You warned him. "Okay." He nodded, bracing himself. "One..." You tightened you grip slightly. "Two..." You grimaced, readying yourself. "Three!" You jolted his elbow and heard a popping sound. He grunted at the pain and clutched his arm to his chest. Sam jumped up from his chair and shook his arm loosely. "Better?" You asked him. "Yeah..." He panted. "It's great. Thanks." Sam put an arm around you and pulled you close into a sweet hug. He kissed the top of your head and smiled into your hair. You were very short compared to Sam, but then again, who wasn't? You were the perfect height to rest your head on his chest. You listened to his heart beating fast, before stepping back and looking up at him. "Thanks." He said again. "Y'know, last time I dislocated something was when I was a kid. I remember I was ice-skating, and I slipped and my knee moved. It hurt like hell, but Dean fixed it." He reminisced about his childhood. You grinned at the silly story. Sam tilted his head and it reminded you of Cas. "Are you any good?" Sam questioned. You gave him a confused look. "At skating?" He elaborated. You avoid eye contact with him. You'd never told him much about your past. Not that it was much different to his, lots of moving around, always travelling. It's just, you never got to experience little things, such as ice-skating, and it made people think you were weird. You shook your head. "I wouldn't know. I've never tried." You shrugged. Sam stared at you with disbelief shining in his eyes. You shuffled, uncomfortable under his gaze. "Seriously? Never?" Sam urged. "No, never." You crossed your arms, getting annoyed. You disliked the attention. You didn't want to be at the center of his speculation, especially for something that made you different. "Can we leave it now?" You turned away from him. Sam noticed how hostile you had become. "Yeah. Sorry." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Hey! Why don't we go this weekend?" He proposed. You thought it over for a moment, the idea scared you. "Come on! I can teach you. There's a lake we drove past on the way up here, it's frozen over. Please, Y/N..." He begged. You rolled your eyes and huffed. "We don't even have any skates." You tried to use that as a reason not to go. "No, no! I have an old pair that you can use, and I'll use Dean's." He nodded happily to himself. Reluctantly, you agreed. "Fine." Sam picked you up and twirled you around excitedly. " It's gonna be great! Just the two of us, and we'll practice and we can take a picnic and stuff and..." He continued listing all the things you two would do, but you stopped listening. Instead, you admired the gleeful glint in his eyes and the cheerful smile on his lips. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad.