Supernatural Imagines

Holiday Fun

Imagine: While the boys are out on a quick salt and burn, you decide to get the bunker ready for Christmas.

"We're getting ready to head out Y/N, you sure you don't wanna come with?" Dean asks you. You're sitting in the library part of the bunker reading up on some old lore when he walks in. He towers over you with his duffel bag sitting on his shoulder.
    You smile, "Yeah, I need to get some stuff done here. Holidays are coming up and all". He rolls his eyes and you just laugh in response as Sam walks in the room, his own bag on the opposite shoulder as Dean's.
    You know that the boys aren't super into the holidays, but every year that you set up a tree for Christmas and the New Year, there is joy and bits of happiness shown in their faces that even they couldn't hide. You already had bought a few gifts for each of them, but still needed to go get one final thing.
    "Alright, you ready Sammy?" Dean looks to Sam as he nods, "We'll be back in a few days, the case is only an hour away, don't be too crazy." They both smile big and you wave "goodbye" as they head out to the garage.
    The next day you wake up and immediately get to decorating. The first step is to put the tree up, which you had found earlier in the week. It was one of those trees that already had lights on it, but you had to put ornaments on yourself.
You find the tree in one of the many storage rooms in the bunker, with basically everything in the packed room labeled "Christmas". Turns out that even back in the day of the Men of Letters, someone decked out the bunker too. There are boxes upon boxes of lights that could glow up the entire place if anyone really wanted to take the time to set them all up. Imagine that electric bill.
    You lug the huge box into the entrance room in the front of the bunker and rip the duct tape holding the box together off. The tree comes in three pieces, and luckily the bottom piece is on top.
It takes a good 30-45 minutes to get the tree out, set up, and fluffed properly. During the span of the day you not only set up the tree, but also garlands with lights down all of the railings and around all of the columns. When the lights are plugged in, there are so many colors and directions that the lights are coming from, they surround you. There's a warmth that runs through you, making you feel happy, not only from the accomplishing feeling of all of this being your hard work, but also the rare feeling of holiday cheer. In the line of work that feeling doesn't come very often. You all usually get caught up in jobs specifically to help others have great Christmases and then the holiday is gone.
Deciding to take a break from all of your hard work, you put on a jacket and decide to go get Dean's final present. And probably some food, you're starving. Dean's last gift is a good bottle of Whiskey, but you don't really know the great brands very well. Dean usually gets the cheap brand that smells and tastes like rubbing alcohol.
It only takes about 10 minutes to get to the biggest liquor store in Lebanon, and as soon as you walk in, a worker greats you. "Can I help you find anything?" He says. Usually you don't ask for help, but you want only the best for Dean. He helps you pick out four different brands, which you buy two of each so that you can taste test, and also a few bottles of champagne for the New Year. After grabbing food and getting back, it's already 10pm.
You quickly get to work and set all of the bottles out and get shot glasses out for each of them as well. You open one of each, pour them, and then label them 1-4. #1 tastes like straight up rubbing alcohol, even worse than the kind that Dean gets. As soon as the liquor hits the back of your throat, it burns so bad. You grab a sticky note and write "First Aid" on it because it's THAT bad. The second one is a Jameson brand, which the guy at the store said was his favorite. It was really good, actually tasting like something other than shit. You take another taste for good measure, ignoring the inevitable burning in the back or your throat.
Number three was alright, the brand was Four Roses, and while it wasn't as good as the second, it still deserves to be mentioned. You take another taste of this one as well, still ignoring the burn. It doesn't bother you as much anymore. The fourth is the best, another Jameson brand, but this time Irish. By the time you take a second taste of this, you don't even realize that the burning in the back of your throat has basically diminished, leaving the drink to go down like water.
It isn't until you stand up that you realize how tipsy you actually are. The room spins a little bit, vision getting a little blurry, but it seemingly goes away slightly as you start walking. You grab two glasses from the cupboard, pouring some more Whiskey #4 in one glass, then filling the other with the champagne that you had picked up.
About an hour later, or what you thought was an hour, two more glasses of champagne and a good 6 shots of various Whiskeys later, you felt good. You had turned on some Christmas music earlier and were dancing around the bunker while fixing the lights and putting more decorations up. Your head swaying and a few stumbles, but you were by yourself, so you didn't care.
You go back to the storage room to find some more decorations and to the kitchen to grab another drink. When you head back to the main room with the Christmas tree to put up ornaments on the tree, you just stand and stare. You stand there in awe of the lights and decorations once again, swaying side to side on your feet. You start to get in your feelings. "What did I do to end up here? With amazing people like Sam and Dean?" You're pretty sure at one point you started tearing up thinking about life in general. Then a song comes on in the background, knocking you out of your thoughts.
"Carry on my Wayward Son" blasts through the speakers and you immediately start singing and dancing around the room again, champagne in one hand, ornaments to hang in the other. The tree starts to fill up with the ornaments when the door above you opens up, a loud noise coming from the door.
The sound scares the crap out of you, and all of the sudden your feet aren't under you. Instead, you lay on the ground looking up at the balcony where Sam and Dean are staring back down at you. "What the hell?" The boys drop their bags and run down the stairs, quickly helping you up, and quickly realizing that you're very drunk.
"How much did you have?" Sammy asks as he pulls a chair out from the table to sit you on. Sam pulls out a chair after himself and Dean walks away.
"Wait, Dean!" You shout and he peeks his head around the corner. "Don't go into the kitchen, okay?" He nods and continues to walk down one of the long hallways. "You guys are back so early." You say to Sam, and prop your head up on your hands, trying to stop the room from spinning.
"We're just that good, what can I say," Dean says as he enters the room once again, and Sam laughs.
"Holy shit Y/N, did you go through all of that tonight?" Sam asks. You turn to Dean as he holds up the multiple half gone bottles of Whiskey and champagne.
You start cracking up laughing as Dean joins you both at the table, setting the bottles down and pouring him and Sam a glass. "I was having fun! Get on my level!" You respond back to them. You can feel your eyelids getting heavier, and it's very clear that every time you speak, you're slurring your words.
"Alright Sammy, you heard her. Let's get on her level." Dean downs every ounce of Whiskey in his glass, only to pour double the amount back in.
"Cheers then" Sam lifts his glass to the middle of the table. You go to grab the glass that ended up on the floor after falling, and then fall out of your chair again trying to reach it.
All three of you had a moment that hasn't happened in so long. None of you care about anything other than each other. You're on the floor laughing so hard you thought you might throw up, the boys laughing so hard in their chairs that their stomach's start to hurt. Tears are brought to all three sets of eyes, but not from being sad. A truly happy moment that you live for, and you cherish it, because you never know when the last one will be.
Thirty minutes later three of the bottles of Whiskey are gone, and you finished off the champagne. "Hey," Dean starts in between laughing, "Thank you for this."
You just look at him for a second. His face shows a mixture of emotions. You can't point them all out, but you know that he's being genuine. You look over to Sam. He's wearing that sad smirk on his face, but his eyes tell you that he needed this too. You smile back, "I'll drink with you any time Dean Winchester."
He looks you in the eyes for a second longer, then gets up. "Alright, well we should probably finish this tree, huh?" You can tell that he's slurring his speech now, but he seems so much more relaxed.
"I'll get the top of the tree!" Sammy says, standing up, swaying a little bit. He's feeling the alcohol too. He reaches in the box filled with ornaments, grabbing the star and handing it to you. "You do the honors. Come here."
Normally the thought of someone picking you up, especially while drunk, would freak you out. But honestly, you felt safe with Sam as he lifted you off the ground a few feet, just high enough to reach the top of the tree.
Once you guys were done decorating the tree, you decided to stand back and admire your work. The boys stood on either side of you, drinks in hand. "I love you guys." You say quietly, but loud enough for them to hear. Sam grabs and squeezes your hand, whispering it back to you.
"Love you too, kiddo. Love you too." Dean says.
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A/N
Wow, it's been a while. I got a request and thought it was the cutest thing! So this is for you @theEArs I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for giving me the honor to write it :)
If you guys want to read more, I'm always open for requests! Please like, comment, share, and leave your requests either in the comments or message me!
Also, if you need anyone to talk about the finale with I'm here too. Ugh.
Thanks so much guys,
Lauryn