Another Supernatural Imagine Book

Hobbies ||Sam||

Hobbies

apparently I'm in a Sam mood lately

Please keep in mind I don't know shit about hacking. I'm just making stuff up that sounds smart.

"Why can't you just get into art?" Your best friend Meg sighs. She's lazily thrown herself into the couch across from you, fresh cup of coffee barely contained in its small mug.

"Why can't you just accept that I'm gonna keep doing this?" You sigh in return. You pat your laptop lovingly as it sits at its usual table in your favourite coffee shop.

"Because hacking people for fun is morally despicable."

"Yes, you are the perfect person to be educating me on moral despicable-ness." You retort. It's not like you actually stole people's identities or information or something. You just really enjoyed the challenge of getting into people's phones and laptops, and sometimes you saw some fun stuff.

Meg sighed and turned to whatever book she was reading. She knew your routine by now and didn't bother trying to talk to you once you got started. Even the best hacker needed to focus on their work.
You pull up your favourite program and peruse the selection of devices on the coffee shops network. It's a busy morning and a whole list of various options pop up, all with some basic name like "Ash's iphone" or "Kevin's laptop." One pops out at you, though. It's at the very bottom of the list and you almost don't notice it because it's... blank.

Your curiosity gets the best of you and you click on the barely noticeable name, expecting a very basic privacy wall that would take about five seconds to break through. You're shocked to be greeted with some kind of anti-hacker software. You've never seen anything like it before. Within seconds, it's starting to break into your own heavily guarded laptop.

"Where's the fire?" Meg asks, attention grabbed by the furious movements of your fingers on the keyboard.

"Someone's fucking hacking me." You say in disbelief. You barely manage to counteract whatever this software is before it wrecks your own privacy. You lean back in your chair and let out a breath you didn't know you were holding when an IM message pops up in the corner.

unknown: nice try.

You shoot forward in your chair. The software managed to get through your defenses a bit before you stopped it, and now this stranger had free access to your messages.

fuckoff97: who is this?

unknown: Yea like I'm gonna tell you that.

fuckoff97: that's fair. what the hell was that program?

unknown: Made it myself. You like?

fuckoff97: I can't say I'm a fan.

unknown: That was pretty impressive though, no ones ever disabled it before. Even if you weren't completely fast enough.

You scan the room with a glare, trying to find a culprit. Nothing catches your eye and you let out a frustrated groan.

unknown: You really should work on your poker face.

Your head snaps back up again. Whoever this was knew exactly who they were talking to and you didn't like that.

fuckoff97: Noted. Do I get any hints here?

unknown: Maybe. What the hell are you hacking for?

fuckoff97: Fun. What the hell are you guarding?

unknown: Sorry, thats on a need to know basis.

fuckoff97: What, are you government or something?

unknown: or something. blue flannel, back corner by the mug display.

Your eyes scan the back corner and settle on a broad man sitting in the very corner table. His arm is slung over the empty chair next to him and he stares at you with a smug grin. You stare back, unwilling to look away first. He looks back down to his computer and a few seconds later a chime comes from yours.

unknown: Come over here.

Why is it that by the end of all my imagines i'm sitting here like "what the fuck is this garbage."